Elfborn

Chapter 4: Across the Straits

Brighton: Known as the City of Mists, Brighton was the only freeport on the southeast coast of Hybernia. Founded by a group of renegade pagans called the Asean shortly before the fall of the Romis Empire, Brighton had been built over the ruins of an ancient city, its artificial breakwaters the largest in the known world outside of the direct reach of dead Romis. Those breakwaters formed the basin of Brighton's Wind Harbor, a deep cove that was as rich in sea life as it was in human trade, its steely blue waters often the playground for porpoise, seals, and birds.

It was also said that the ghosts of its former inhabitants haunted the city, specters often sighted on nights with full moons and the like. Most dismissed it as superstitious nonsense. But there were those who still clung to the ways of the ancient Asean, including many in positions of power. Positions that were strong enough to prevent the Jebusin from planting the seeds of the religion of the One God in the city. To this day there wasn't a single Ristusian church to be found within the boundaries of the freeport.

These self-same people said that more than specters walked the ancient causeway that connected the port itself to the well-preserved fortress that sat at the harbor's entrance where it served both as protection and as a lighthouse to guide ships in during storms. According to them the ancient inhabitants of the place, those that had built the city beneath Brighton, came back during high times of the year, like Spring Equinox, to lament the fall of their mighty place.

Of course, nobody outside the Asean circles saw these visitors, but the city folk insisted they were there. Despite this and the old ways clung to by the Asean cults, Brighton welcomed all peoples of Hybernia and Eire, from the rainy highlands of Ekoss in the north to the coves and harbors of Wessix in the south, the rocky western shores of Kerrie in Eire to the West, and to the bluffs of East Anglon in the East. Because of that, the port city was a hub of activity all year round, the greatest point of entry into Hybernia from the Straits.

The fortress at the harbor mouth that guarded the harbor entrance, like Brighton, was a place of mystery and wonder. In comparison to those made by Men, it was a slender, almost delicate construction, the stones fitted so closely together that it appeared as if the walls were cast of one solid piece. Graceful and slender towers rose from inside the sturdy walls, the stone of their construction almost glowing when the sun's light struck it, colors rippling up and down their walls as reflected sunlight danced off the waves to paint the towers in the colors of the rainbow.

This was the Solitare, a name the Asean gave to the fortress that was old before even they had arrived, a name that reflected its isolated strength and endurance. It had never fallen into enemy hands in known memory, which included the most recent Border Wars, the greatest turmoil in the modern history of Humanity on Hybernia. It was said that even the Romis, great builders and engineers in their own right, had been so impressed by the structure when they first saw it that they wanted to tear it down and rebuild it at the mouth of the harbor of Romis, the capital, but were unable to penetrate the wall's strength.

The city's outer walls too were made from the same stone as was the beautiful and wondrous harbor-mouth fortress, and were said to shimmer in the early morning and late evening light, just when the sun was about to either exit or enter the horizon. But on this day neither the outer walls, nor the distant splendor of the Solitare was visible. For Autumn had truly descended onto Hybernia and, in typical Hybernian fashion, it was announced by rain. Lots, and lots of rain.

Lash huddled miserably in the bottom of the wagon box, trying to peer through the thick curtain of rain and fog that had been pounding them non-stop for the last five days. Of course, any shelter that was provided by the wagon was taken by the guards, leaving the young captives to sit out in the downpour, day and night. Already several of them had caught a chill. Even over the constant hiss of the rain all around them, Lash could hear them coughing and sneezing, both making them even more miserable than they had been before. They weren't even allowed to huddle together for warmth. But they held on. It was the only thing they could do.