OathBlade (Wattys2015)

3. Her Father's Ghost*

The patter of rain striking the tightly-woven leaves of their shelter greeted them before they had a chance to open their eyes. Elery crawled from the shelter and looked up, watching lightning race across the clouds. "Come, Cylphi. We should hurry. The first bridge is close."

Cylphi crawled from the shelter moments later, then pulled her pack out after her. "Do you think the Duke will actually allow us into the Dark Forest?"

"You assume I'm leaving him a choice," she answered.

"We can't just make enemies of everyone. You must think of your position. What is the use of retaliating against one enemy if we end up making another?"

Elery walked to the two steeds and untied their reins. The molners shook rain from their feathers. "I know that. I don't intend on making an enemy of the Duke." She paused, then added, "Intentionally."

"There are other pacts," Cylphi said. "Why do you want this one?"

"Because he is the strongest." She checked the pack strapped to Ishthemir's side to make sure water didn't soil the goods inside, then tied it again. "Father said when he was in his presence, he held physical form on his own. He spoke of him as he spoke of the homeland gods."

"Why did he let your father live? I-If you don't mind my asking?"

"I wish I knew. But I intend to follow in his footsteps. Only when I leave the forest, Isandel is coming with me." Elery climbed into her saddle and wrapped the reins around her hands.

Ishthemir pawed at the ground impatiently. The moment Cylphi got into her own saddle and Elery flicked the braided Delk-skin leather reins, he bolted off as if struck in the rear with a whip.

Delk and gerlins roamed the fields in herds, grazing on patches of silvery tangle hops and fiery red prancing duscle. The delk, muscular beasts with succulent meat, cleared out of the way as they drew close. Though horned, the delk were not adept at protecting themselves. Their thick legs carried them with surprising speed, and as one turned its blunt head toward them, it bleated a low cry and staggered back with its horns brought low.

The gerlins were different. They were lean with thin legs made for leaping. All six of them. They were small, able to vanish in the taller grass. Their meat, while prized, was much harder to get. Hunting them required skill only the most experienced hunters possessed.

Elery watched the little creatures hop away into tall clumps of mound brush, and briefly considered stopping to bag a few.

"Let's not stop," Cylphi said. "They're wily, it would take too much time to bag one."

"It was just a passing fancy," Elery said as she watched the few still visible. Their lean bodies and rounded heads poked above the grass while their legs remained hidden. "It would make a nice gift for the Duke, though."

"Elery."

"Fine, fine. We'll continue." She flicked the reins to urge her steed faster, comforted by the weight of her father's sword at her side. Gradually the land narrowed. The grassy plains turned to sand as they reached the shore, and upon reaching the first bridge, they stopped.

Lyewryn lay as the heart of a great ocean, cut off from the rest of Leria. To reach Andethayn, a massive bridge was built long ago that spanned the distance between their island and the natural land-bridge jutting from the main landmass.

Elery approached the bridge, catching the eye of a nearby guard who immediately stepped in her path and held up his hand.

"The bridge is closed—" He paused. "Lady Elery. Forgive me." He took a step back as quickly as he'd moved before her.

"Why is the bridge closed?" she asked as she stopped.

"Bethgardel soldiers slaughtered the last station guards as they made their escape across the bridge. We believe this is the route they used to attack Lyewryn. Since your mother and father..." He looked away. "Since we had no orders, we felt it prudent to close the bridge until you sent word."

"A good instinct. Keep the bridge closed unless it is to allow official business to or from Lyewryn. I will ask the Duke of Andethayn to send aid."

He held his fist to his chest. "Safe travels, Lady Elery."

"Safety to you, too." She and Cylphi returned the salute before easing the molner onto the bridge.

The wooden structure spanned as far as she could see and knew it extended further still. She snapped the reins and once again Ishthemir took off, his hooves pounding against the dark wood.

"Will we reach the waypoint before night?" Cylphi called over the raucous hoofbeats of their steeds.

"If we do, it will be just narrowly. We'll stay at the inn and start out again in the morning," Elery called back. "Unless you'd like to ride all night?"

"I'd rather not."

Elery nodded and fell silent. The sun flew through the sky at its leisurely pace, arching high overhead before bowing out to make way for her nocturnal sisters. As the moons slid over the horizon, greeting Leria to end yet another day, they spotted the small inn growing closer in the distance.

Both steeds collapsed beside the water trough, dunking their mouths in the crystalline water to gulp the liquid down. Cylphi knelt beside them and gently petted them both on the neck. "We really pushed them."

"They're tough, they can handle it. By morning they'll be rested and ready to go again." Elery touched Ishthemir's head before walking to the inn beside the short road leading to the second bridge. The building took up a generous portion of the island. The spit of land was so tiny Elery could see shoreline in each direction she looked.

The innkeeper, a gruff looking seryn, chewed at something as he sat reading a paper. He looked up, then raised a thick eyebrow at Elery.

"Haven't seen you since you were a youngster," he said.

She tilted her head. "Do...I know you?"

"Doubtful you'd remember." He turned from his desk to pick up a thin crystal pane from the shelf behind him. Pictures flitted within its shimmering surface. Imprinted memories, kept as mementos. As she watched, images of her father, the innkeeper, and her younger self moved across the surface like liquid.

She was in her father's arms, smiling with mud streaked down her face. She was a tiny thing. Barely four summers, if she had to guess. The innkeeper had his arm around her father's shoulders, a smile spread over his sun-tanned face.

Elery took the crystal and gently touched her father's image. It ripped and dissipated for a moment before taking shape again.

Her eyes stung and she set it on the desk. "I would like a room, sir," she said, willing the quiver from her voice.

"Aye," he said, taking the crystal and carefully setting it on the shelf once more. "My apologies, Lady Elery."

She shook her head. "No. You didn't..." She clenched her throat, took a moment, then lifted her head. "It is an honor to know my father was such a well known and respected man." She gulped, trying to choke back her tears.

Cylphi walked in with their belongings. She hurried to stand beside Elery. "I'm fairly certain if I threw a rock from one shoreline I would hit the opposite one," she said with a laugh. She looked at Elery and her humor fled. "Are you—"

The innkeeper held out a room key and Elery took it. She bit the inside of her cheek a few times before speaking. "Thank you, sir. Though I don't remember you well, it is wonderful to see that you are still doing well. If there's ever anything you need, don't hesitate to call on Lyewryn." She turned, a bit too abruptly for her liking, and hurried to the stairs. As calmly as she tried to climb them, she took the last few steps in a run, found her room, and fell onto the bed.

With her father's smiling face burned fresh in her mind, Elery curled into a tight ball on her side and let herself cry.