Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Ackie's long ears twitched at the sound of boots reverberating across the floorboards above her. She sat, crossed-legged, in a small prison cell on the lower level of the High Court Hall with her eyes closed and hands placed on her knees, the room dark with the exception of a single ray of cold sunlight peering through a hole in the wall. The bright glare engulfed the young she-elf as she meditated silently in prayer.
My God, El Olam. I do not understand my circumstances, yet I trust that you hold the reigns for what comes next. As long as I continue to glorify you, I am content. Guard this quest. Rally your children. The light of the world will come. May we all do our parts to ensure that it happens according to your will. Amen.
The cell door croaked with the sudden arrival of a stranger.
"Speak, Taris Oakwood of Swaan Tull. It is foolish to lurk in the shadows," Ackie said, remaining poised. She exhaled while simultaneously turning her head to meet the gaze of a young man watching her through the brass bars. His short-cropped red hair shifted as he pressed his forehead against the metal.
Clank!
"How do you know my name?" he asked.
"There are many instruments in El Olam's war with Tysceras over the future of the Isles," Ackie replied. "This is only the beginning of a greater battle that threatens our world. A half-dragon and a dwarf rose to find Roxundam's promised saviour, and now, their devotion has led them here to an island on the verge of self-destruction. Yet, amidst the chaos, hope remains. A noble shipwright, desperate to help three strangers, begins a path that will alter the course of history. El Olam has called you to arms, Taris Oakwood. Become one of his Risen, and save what you love most."
Ackie stood and approached Taris while removing the black satchel from her waist.
"Take this," she said, tossing the satchel into his arms. "Inside, you will find a map of Balis Ignis and the route to Thiviscola. Guard it with your life until it can be safely returned to The Lillycove."
Taris looked bewildered. "I am getting you out of here. You do not understand the severity of your situation, Ackie, Oracle of the Southern Isles. You have been sentenced to death. There is no avenue for negations."
"You mistake my urgency for fear," Ackie said. "My path has changed course. I do not know where it leads, but I am confident Heran and Zonis will finish what we started. They must."
"A Serpentblood and a dwarf sailing to Balis Ignis alone?" Taris wondered. He shook his head. "It is suicide. They need you."
"They will not be alone. You will take my place."
Taris scoffed. "Me? What value could I possibly bring?"
"You have everything you need," Ackie stated. "All you have to do is act."
Thump. Thump. Thud.
A group of soldiers approached the cells, their armour clinking together to announce their impending arrival.
Ackie reached out and squeezed Taris's hands around the satchel. "Go now. Before they catch you."
Taris hesitated.
"Go!"
He ran off in the opposite direction without looking back.
Ackie sighed. She sat down, crossed her legs, and started to pray as the pitter-patter of boots grew closer and closer.
My God, El Olam. May your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Amen.
The marching feet came to a halt as the cell door opened. A hand grabbed her shoulder, and she was pulled to her feet with a brown sack forced over her head.
YOU ARE READING
RISEN | ONC 2024
FantasíaA boy born with Serpentblood. An exiled dwarf in pursuit of his destiny. A she-elf guided by a religious prophecy. Together, they must rise to find the coveted Light of the World, a saviour who promises to tip the scale of waging Spiritual War in t...