Dreamer: The Eighth Key book 1

Weaving Roads

Here Diraimeir was now.  Riding in between this man’s arms with his own crossed over his chest, a sour look plastered on his face. This Fai... Personally, he had never met any of the elves of the ash lands until now. It had always been Diraimeir’s understanding that they were an untamed, unmanageable lot. Fai were not known to be the kind of people to have come up so far north either. So how then did this Fai know who and where he was? Was this the man that his Haun sent to meet him, or were there darker forces at work? Either way, Diraimeir had no choice but to go with the hunter through the low mid-morning light.

“Who are you again?” Diraimeir asked, trying to pry information from tightly sealed lips.

The Fai paused to look down at the kid. Answering in a grunt, the man just shook his head, smiling faintly as Diraimeir pouted.

“I don’t even know your name. Who sent you?” Diraimeir tried again. He was disappointed with the lack of an answer. All he received was a skeptical look that replaced the smile for the moment, almost like the Fai expected him to know already. And really, he should have. They had met once before when Diraimeir had been very young. Maybe too young for him to remember.

 The terrain was no longer muddied snow and rock covered hills. Now they were wandering through gently rolling forestlands that offered thick, hardy grass meadows. Diraimeir seems pleased at this change. Visibility had also significantly improved. Plantlife overtook the white, with only the slightest of snow flurries to hinder their sight. More ancient pine rose tall, like sentries along the road, dense and fresh. The path itself had turned to slick dark mud—a sure sign of the spring thaw.

This was the warmest climate Diraimeir had ever been in. For the ice Nymph, it was growing close to uncomfortably warm. Promises of it getting warmer were looming over him as well. His destination, Cree, was a lush temperate heaven, but he supposed he would get used to it the more he allowed himself to adjust to nature.

The forest around the path thinned as fine tan and copper rock abruptly pierced through the soil. Dirameir stooped over to pick up a piece of it to inspect, finding that the stone crumbled and flaked away in his fingertips. A gentle new breeze brought the smell of the sea about them once more, along with other scents of civilization—food and flame for one. Smoke, full of the promise of tender meats, wafted about him as if it called to the lad’s stomach. He felt it growl low in protest. How long had it been since he had eaten anything remotely sustainable? He couldn’t remember anything but overly dried foods for the last few days. Hell, he had even tried to eat a pinecone earlier that morning.

The sight of people, The Cidridian, became more frequent. Diraimeir had at least seen a few of these types of people back home before. Isaich came into view as they moved along. It was a pretty little settlement that was perched up upon a bridge of rock, looking out over the east sea. Isaich once had been a small fortress, a waypoint with great purpose. He remembered that Chet said it was built to withstand time as a solitary sentry though eventually, it developed into something much more than that. The town was a bustling place, and Diraimeir had to stay directly behind the Fai to get through the crowds.

Nowadays, Isaich served as an excellent home for a fair number of Cidridian. Actually, Isaich housed the largest group of people in the entire kingdom of Cidraedell. Smaller cabins sprung up along the natural bridge leading up to its gates in a tidy row, permanently making the main street. The Fai appeared to know his way around better than Diraimeir would have expected him to.

At some point, it dawned on him that they had never intended to linger in Isaich too long. The Fai led him into a deep culvert behind an old, rotting stable building that was so frail; it’s only use now was to store fallen wood and dried hay. Dark, narrow corridors took them into almost tangible darkness. Impenetrable and stiflingly warm. Diraimeir could only see maybe a foot and a half in front of him.

Simply put, he was having trouble keeping his footing. Why then was he so compelled to follow along after the Fai like a lost pup? The very thought made Diraimeir frustrated.

Diraimeir could tell they were descending; the way was making it harder to keep his wits about him. Not to mention Ch’nuino’s. Only the tight walls, which Diraimeir was holding on to, kept them from fumbling down the path to who knows what end. As the air thinned and grew fouler, the road they were following leveled out.

A hand grasped the front of Diraimeir’s tunic and pulled him to the side roughly. He could only assume, or hope, this was the work of his Fai companion. Another wider path branched off from that waypoint, but Diraimeir was too out of sorts to be able to tell. He almost kept following it without noticing the new one. He relaxed somewhat, thankful that he had not been snatched up by a stranger.

A little farther from where they turned, a faint flicker of light could be seen. The trail became smooth with all the properties of worn tile. Mainly the type of tile one could find in other old ruins dotting the country, still glossy with delicately colored glaze even after hundreds of years of use. That fact was confirmed since Diraimeir could see them gleam the closer they came to the light source. And finally, the Fai spoke to him; his voice was rich like soft toffee. “Welcome to the Undercroft, one of the entrances into the Everdark. Here.” An old lantern was thrust into the boy’s hands before the elf carefully lit it.  Doing so filled the room in a soft, warm glow that painted a most magnificent scene before Diraimeir’s eyes. Coaxing an astonished gasp from his parted lips as he stared up above him. The Fai lit another lantern that he had to detach from Ch’nuino’s side shortly after, taking that one up for himself.

Like a cathedral, bold pillars of rock-lined the ever-widening corridor like skyscrapers. Each one of them still held unbridled details that time had yet to erode away. Hand-crafted in the fashion of magnificent birds, it must have taken several years to complete each one. Diraimeir counted dozens of them that sat matched in pairs down the lit walk. To his left and right were high waterfalls, the mouths of which were massive carvings of the bows of two ships, pooling the length of the walkway. Any place destined to be tread upon had been adorned in the same smooth and colorful tile Diraimeir had assumed of the path earlier. It glinted as it caught the light over the water like thousands of little fish. “What is this place?” He asked in awe, voice echoing in the vast deep.

“I already told you that.”

“That’s not what I meant. I mean, why is it all the way down here?”

“You mean, you don’t know? I thought little dreamers like you were supposed to have studied everything related to the Goddess and her peoples. Chet must be slacking off.” The Fai mused, wagging his finger teasingly at Diraimeir. “It was built long ago before Gya’a blessed the world with her magic. By the Oashim-rinich, you know.” He paused, noting the confusion on Diraimeir’s face. “The ancient dwarven nation that disappeared from Sharn’s shores an era ago. This hall used to be a place of worship worthy of pilgrimage. Or if you believe all the wives’ tales, it’s where men from across the vast ocean carried the Goddess to hide from her advisories. Maybe they even helped her escape tragedy in the making. Stories say all it did was prolong her life a few decades since that tragedy was inescapable and also caused her death.

The Oashim-rinich agreed to shelter her and were thanked by sickness. See these paths?” The Fai stopped them to point out several lesser halls with different fading symbols crafted into each entrance to Diraimeir. “They say these follow lay lines that connected her to all of the settlements, cities, and camps in Cidraedell. There is a path that leads to below each of them. Even where you came from. The Oashim-rinich knew how to harness her blessing along these lines. I believe all the cities were purposefully built with the entrances to the Everdark in mind. I thought all of your people knew these sorts of tales.”

Diraimeir blushed faintly, his cheeks touching with lavender. Says who? To be honest, that was the very sort of thing he should have known. He was… not so keen on his studies as other pupils of Haun Chet’s. There was already a lot that had previously been expected of him as it was. “Oh…”

The Fai chuckled a little bit. “It’s an older story anyways. I don’t think people talk about the Oashim-rinich much anymore, so there is no way to really tell if it has any truth to it. But it’s the easiest and safest road to Shale this time of year. Right now, that’s about as much luck as we are going to get. Come. We will make camp here for tonight. You didn’t sleep well on the roadside.”

Well, duh! Who could get any sleep with some strange man skulking about! Speaking of which… The nymph still did not even know who this man was. “Don’t give me that look, Diraimeir. Your Haun sent me to look after you, and I shall do just that. You can call me Tathlyn.”

The two of them made camp up into a small alcove in the far corner of the temple room. It was pitched on a shelve a few feet off the natural floor that was wide enough for three grown men of considerable length to lay side by side. And it was just tall enough for the larger of the two of them to sit up with a few centimeters to spare. Tathlyn boosted Diraimeir up into it along with a hand full of travel wears. “Don’t wander off. I guarantee we are not the only two down here. The roads carved into the earth down here lead to many places. Not everyone we could come across will have the best of intentions, either.” He warned as Diraimeir helped him get up. “It’s better we stay quiet and put the light out.”

“What about Ch’nuino?” He asked, peering down at where she was under the ledge. Tathlyn had led her into a divot in the wall that had ample enough space for her to lay. It was hard to spot from the path they were on at current but still. Was it actually all that safe?

“Don’t worry. She will be alright. She’s a smart, fine beast.”