Wraiths Revenge

How long was I asleep. Cara thought silently as she moved her legs away from the sea, the waves lapping at her feet and lay back in the sand stretching her stiff muscles. When she had come to the beach just to escape the bustle of the celebrations back at the village it had not long gone midday. Now the setting sun threw it’s red glow over the island behind her as it seemed to sink beneath the swell of the ocean. Struggling to shake off her sleepiness she stood brushing the sand from her shorts. A quick splash in the cold waters soon woke her fully and she turned heading down the beach. Around her crabs scuttled into their holes and gulls swooped down into the trees as the wildlife prepared itself for another night. Reaching the outskirts of the village she stopped at the gates and as she did every year on this day she turned aside and headed up the small almost overgrown path that led to the cliffs. Once there she laid her hand on the rock that stood at the top, the engraving circling the rim had faded with time but she did not have to look to see what it said. “Here lies Diana and Taim swept away before their time.” A single tear trickled down her cheek as she heard a rustle in the bushes next to her. “I thought I’d find you here. Samar sent me to find you.” The speaker stepped out of the bushes a small mousey haired boy not yet eighteen years old. He fiddled nervously with the bush behind his back as he stood watching her. Cara stood wiping the tear from her cheek as she turned from the rock, she had been friends with Dirk for her whole life, she was only a year older than him, but still she didn’t want him to see her cry. “It’s not right the way the village celebrates, none of them think of you.” Cara looked at Dirk then sadly looked back to the stone. “They have a right to be happy Dirk, it’s been nearly twenty years now since the last big storm and supposedly the village would have been destroyed if it had continued much longer. Our survival is something to celebrate.” She stared at the inscription the names running around her mind, Diana and Taim. Her mother and father. She had no memories of them they had died when she was not even one but her father had been patriarch of the village and many of the villagers had told her stories of them over the years. Old Liza who had brought Cara up after their deaths used to say that she was the mirror image of her mother with her red hair and tanned skin. They even dressed the same so she said. Lizas’ favorite joke was saying she would die of shock the day she got Cara to ever wear a dress. Realising Dirk was still there Cara reluctantly dragged her mind back to the present. “What does Samar want to see me for,” she asked more to change the subject than out of any real curiousity. Dirk shrugged. “I don’t know but him and Milark have been up in the tower all afternoon then they suddenly came down and sent me off saying I had to find you,” He looked around guiltily. “In fact it sounded urgent so perhaps we should hurry back.” A real curiosity now rising in her Cara bowed her head to her parents grave once more then turned to follow Dirk down the path towards the village proper. “You say Milark was with him, when did he get back?” She asked as they trotted down the path. Dirk nodded. “Supposedly he just turned up just after the festival got going, he grabbed Samar right out of the patriarchs chair and dragged him to the tower without even explaining.” Cara blinked in surprise. Milark was the village scout, all the villages on the island had one and between the five of them they were tasked with keeping the island safe. She twitched her wrist gently in order to feel the knife she had secreted up there. Most of the islanders viewed carrying a weapon as strange if they didn’t show outright disapproval but Milark carried a sword for his travels around the island and he had taught Cara a bit about using the knife when she had pressed him some years back. She had always been a favorite of Milark, from a young age he had taken her into the surrounding forests and shown her caves and lakes that she was sure the other villagers knew nothing of, her excitement built as they passed under the gates allowing access into Grast village. Now that he was back perhaps he could take her out again, it had been months since she had last seen him. Wherever he had been it was unusual for him to be gone this long. In her excitement she barely took any notice of the festival going on around her, people in brightly decorated cloaks and feathered garments danced around to the drumbeat and villagers played the flute, or the harp. Indeed it seemed every instrument in the village was being played while the dancers twirled around. Ignoring it all she rushed up the steps to the tower barely pausing to nod to Sulin the patriarchs assistant, before she opened the door and headed up the steps two at a time. Reaching the top of the winding staircase she pushed open the heavy oak door and entered into Milarks familiar dwelling. The tower had been built as a home for Milark and had four balconies all facing different directions. The only decoration was twelve portraits that hung on the walls. As a child she had often feared the depicted gods and their associated pets, the Djukta as they were known. Milark and old Liza had told her stories of old where the gods walked the earth and had ruled with an iron fist, any who stood against them met the wrath of the Djukta. Looking at them now she idly wondered in the back of her mind how she had ever believed the fanciful tales of magic creatures and their masters. As she took in the rest of the room she stopped her breath coming in short gasps as the run up the stairs caught up with her. Always before when she had come here it had just been her and Milark or sometimes Samar came to hear Milarks latest report. Now four new men stood in the room crouched around something that she couldn’t quite make out on the table. Milark stood talking to Samar who sat in the chair a blanket over his legs, he had weak legs and the walk to the top of the tower must have been a bit much for him, but they turned as she entered a broad smile flashing across Milarks weather beaten face. “Hey Cara,” he gave her a hug as she crossed the room to him. Now she could see the table better she saw that the men were frowning over a map but it was like no map she had seen before. White lights shone from the paper and as she watched she could swear that they seemed to be moving slightly on the paper. Looking up one of the men saw her and glowering moved his body cutting her view of the map. Cara looked up at Milark bursting with questions to ask but with a glance for the men at the table she composed herself and took a step back. “So, who-why did you want to see me?” A flush crept up her cheeks slowly, she had wanted to ask who the men were but she wouldn’t let them hear she was curious about them. Milark chuckled as he looked towards the table too, the blush rose higher in her cheeks. “I called you here because Samar here tells me that you are asking about how to become a scout.” Cara squealed all dignity gone as she jumped on Samar hugging him. Chuckling he pushed her away gently. “I said I would ask Cara and I have, Milark still gets the choice of whether or not he will train you.” Turning to Milark Cara put her hands together. “Please Milark please please.” Milark turned his head away mock indecision across his face. “I don’t know Cara, it’s a dangerous job and what’s more I would have to put up with you everyday while I trained you. I just don’t know if it would be worth it.” Cara smiled as he paced the room, she already knew he would agree. Her mind bulged with the new possibilities, she would be allowed to leave the surrounding village now, she could finally go and see the rest of the island meet with the other villagers. “But I suppose if you’re sure then I’ll have to say yes.” Milark finally finished with a smile. Cara swelled with happiness but the men at the table seemed less than pleased. They turned as one glaring at Milark and to her shock one of them even spat at the floor where he stood. “How much more will you break tradition Milark, you know she cannot be a scout. Without sensing the veil she’ll be dead in days out there.” Milark turned the smile fading from his face as his eyes turned hard. “I am still the scout of Grast village Valnar, I will choose my successor, the veil is disappearing perhaps will soon be gone altogether. That map on the table shows this more clearer than I have ever seen. Perhaps some new blood in the scouts will give us a chance against the coming storm.” The man, Valnar snarled at Milark his hand clenching as if he would go for a weapon but one of the other men grabbed his arm talking to him in hushed tones until with a grunt Valnar pushed past Cara to the stairs. As his foot touched the top step Milark spoke. “And Valnar, a warning for you. Though I have to work with you to protect the villages if you show me such disrespect again you will die where you stand.” He pushed his travelling cloak aside to reveal the short sword that hung at his waist. “Do you understand?” Without a word Valnar turned, his footsteps fading as he made his way to the bottom of the tower. Slowly the other men stood and nodding to Milark and Samar they also left none of them so much looking at Cara. Exhaling slowly she shut the door as the last one left, that was the first time she had seen the scouts from the other villages but she had never expected this. “I’d best go see they cause no trouble on the way out of the village,” Samar grunted as he put a hand on Milarks shoulder to help himself up. “If you could help me down the stairs Milark I’d be grateful, whatever possessed you to have such a high home.” Nodding silently Milark slipped Samars arm over his shoulders and the two made their way down the stairs. “Really Milark, I accept that you don’t like Valnar but threatening to kill him, do you know how this is going to…” The voices faded as they got further away leaving Cara alone in the room. Her emotions raging inside her she stood awkwardly, she had never been up here alone before, Milark was always a private person and she had never seen more of the tower than this room. Noticing that the map still lay on the table she went to take a closer look. To her surprise she had been right, dotted around the parchment were tiny lights hundreds of them scattered across it. Leaning in closer she saw that instead of being a map of the island which she had supposed it was it showed the great sea to the East and the Tranchent sea to the west even going so far as the mainland. A cough at the door span her round the blush once again rising in her cheeks. She hadn’t expected Milark to come straight back upstairs. “The map,” she spoke quickly trying to control her face, “no one has left the island in generations, how can we have maps that show the surrounding sea and mainland? Are these accurate?” Even as she spoke she realized it was a dumb question, how would he know if they were accurate, but to her shock he nodded. “As far as we have been able to find out this map is accurate,” he held a hand up forestalling anymore questions. “I can tell you no more now, the rest must wait until you have completed your training, some things are best known only to a select few people.” His words pushed all thoughts of the map out of her head, she had completely forgotten he had said he would train her. Her excitement won out over her curiosity as he told her to meet him back at the tower at daybreak the next day. As she ran down the stairs to tell Dirk she heard a distant rumbling in the distance. Was that thunder. She mentally shook herself as the sound faded away. It must be the drums, she thought to herself There had been no thunder in the island for nearly twenty years. Why would there be now?