Chapter XX - The Light on Empty Streets
The Scouts : Flowers of the Tempest
Larman opened his eyes and saw his sister staring down at him with a look of innocent curiosity on her face. He did not know where he was at first, but after he glanced around a bit, he saw the docks around him, empty and still. He sat up and the grey glinting sea met his eyes. If his head didn’t hurt so much he would have immediately started wondering at the quietness, for there wasn’t a creaking ship to be seen, nor a breath of voice in the streets. He stared blankly as a few gulls soared by, but even these were silent. He was bewildered, because he had no recollection of how he came to be lying on the dock in the middle of the day, so he asked his sister about it.
“Why am I here?” he said.
Lilien blinked ponderously before replying, “You fell down and went to sleep. You must have been very tired.”
“I do feel quite tired, and I have a headache, but I’ve never heard of anyone just dropping to sleep wherever. What was I doing before then?”
“We were running and then trying to get through a lot of people. You grabbed my hand so we wouldn’t lose each other, then you went to sleep.”
Larman began to get a vague idea of what might have happened, even though he remembered nothing beyond falling asleep in his bed the previous day. He turned to look back towards the town and saw it was completely deserted—at least from what he could see. It was then that he remembered the fear that struck the town over the arrival of the Tellibites.
“Where is Mum and Pop?” he asked, fighting a spell of dizziness.
Lilien directed his gaze back towards the sea with her hand and said, “They went on a boat. I don’t think they saw you fall asleep.”
Larman almost fainted. He couldn’t make up his mind as to whether or not he was in a bad dream. It was odd like a dream, and yet it made too much sense to be a dream. He felt helpless, and that is what made him afraid.
“I, uh, why were we running?”
“I don’t know. Pop said we needed to leave quickly because—”
“Because they’re coming!” Larman yelped, finally connecting the dots to a sufficient level. He scrambled to his feet saying, “And now we’re trapped here all alone! What are we going to do!”
But his sister responded to his fearful statements very calmly and asked, “Who’s they?”
Larman didn’t know why her ignorance angered him, and without thinking a moment about what he was doing, he slapped her in the face. A look of betrayal flashed through his sister’s eyes, and it would have been no different if cold water had been dumped on his head. He saw a red mark where he had hit her and she started to cry. He tried to apologize over the noise of her sobbing, but she ran away from him before he could fully say anything, and disappeared around the corner of a house. Larman was so shocked at himself that he did not pursue her; he was overwhelmed with guilt. He glanced back out over the sea, expecting to see a fleet of ships approaching, but all there was was the calm rippling of waves and the soaring of birds.
“They’ll be here any minute,” he said to himself. “I must go find her.” He turned around and hurried into the labyrinth of empty streets. The grey light of the day rested on the pavement as he repeatedly called to his sister, “Lilien! Lilien! I’m sorry! Please we can’t be separated now!”
But there was only the thumping of his feet as he ran long and hard, like his whole existence had become nothing but running. There was no past. That was far behind him with parents across the sea. What might the future be?
This question rose up before him like a great dark wall and he collided with it headlong. The grimness of it burnt his heart and his legs betrayed him to the ground. He eventually collapsed beneath the Founding Stone, too exhausted and hopeless to make another desperate call. As he lay on his face, panting on the uncomfortable stones, he became angry with himself for not being strong enough. He must be strong. All weaklings were crushed and destroyed. That was the magical truth the Eara had brought to his people long ago, which had allowed them to rule the world. He must not fall short of what it meant to be a Daugian.
He tried to gather enough strength to stand back up again, but the more he tried, the weaker he felt and the more he feared. All he could manage was to roll over onto his back so that he could stare up into the slate sky. But he found the sky wasn’t empty like the streets were, for it held the shadowy wings of a soaring vulture. He squirmed as a thought of death burst into his mind. What was his life now? He wasn’t a hero, or anyone that would be remembered. Begrudgingly, he recalled how he used to laugh at his people’s stories about the afterlife—the moments when the weakling soul would be banished by the Eara before the silver doors of Klarøn. He had laughed with such little regard for those poor banished souls, thinking it served them right for not being able to prove their honor and strength. But now that he was one of them, he saw how unempathetic he had been. Accepting his fate somehow gave him the strength to get back up again, and when he was back on his feet, he looked around at the empty streets. He had no-one now.
Larman walked slowly along, feeling meaningless, until Lural’s words at their first meeting floated before him.
On the day you find the streets empty, and all the people who gave you meaning are gone, you will know what I meant.
He knew what she meant now—or at least he thought he knew. The shock of being part of a prophesy made him stop in his tracks, and hope sparked up within him. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to triumph. He could fix this somehow. His determination to find his sister was rekindled, and he resumed his efforts. But as he scoured the bones of his dear town, he came to discover that he wasn’t alone.
Rounding a corner near an old bakery, he was startled to see a strange man standing in the middle of the street and looking out over the sea. He wasn’t Daugian, or Tellibite, or anyone he could recognize, but he didn’t look nefarious. The man did not seem to notice him, so Larman asked, “Were you left behind too?”
The man turned towards him with sadness on his face and replied, “Yes, and it has happened many times before.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. My Pop knew someone who could never catch a boat either—most of the time. He’s dead now. But I’m glad that I’m not alone here. What’s your name?”
“Is that Mr. Sert you were referring to?”
“Yeah. You knew him?”
“I know him.”
“You mean knew? I told you he’s dead now.” Larman was uncomfortable with how dour he sounded when he said this.
The man looked at him oddly and then replied, “Let’s go find your sister.”
Larman was surprised. “How do you know about her?” he asked.
“I’ve been watching you for a while. Come, let’s find her.”
Larman hesitated to follow as the man began heading down a street to the docks. He was afraid that he might have seen him slap Lilien, and he felt embarrassed. He ran to catch up and followed him to an old tackle shack near the sea. It was a sad looking building covered in ivy, but the owner had always been kind and especially loved to paint in his spare time. Just outside the building, were many huge rolls of nets woven with drying sea weed and there was a musty smell when he approached them.
Larman hung back and watched as the man walked up to one of the rolls and called Lilien’s name. In no time at all, there she was, beaming and leaping into the man’s arms like he was her own father. Larman was relieved to see his sister, but he didn’t know how he would apologize to her. He sat down on a roll of rope a little ways out of sight and rested his head in his hands. He heard talking and Lilien giggling, as he thought about what he should say. But before he could craft a full speech, a small hand grabbed him by the arm and a familiar voice whispered, “It’s ok Larm. I forgive you. Come and see Vaer.”
Larman’s heart began to flutter nervously, and he whispered back, “That’s not Vaer. It can’t be.”
“Why not?”
“Because the Eara cast him out at the dawn of time to wander forever in the—”
“No they didn’t. Don’t you remember what Mr. Sert said? He’s always been the real ruler, and the Eara just want to do bad stuff as long as they can.”
“Well, if that’s true, he’s doing a bad job of managing crime then.” Larman’s conscience gave him a kick after he had said this, because he remembered several wrong things he had done. Slapping his sister wasn’t the first.
“No, I can’t come,” Larman stuttered.
“Why?”
“He’s been cast out. Those kinds of people usually have bad intentions. He wants something, Lilien. We need to get away from here and hide before the Tellibites come.”
“But Larm, he said he could help us. Didn’t he help you find me?”
Larman sighed and nodded, and Lilien started tugging at his arm.
“So come, please,” she said. “He wants to talk to you.”
An ant crawled up onto Larman’s knee, and he brushed it away. Not wanting to disappoint her, he agreed, and allowed his thrilled sister to pull him out of the shadows. Vaer was waiting for them.
“What’s the matter, Larman?” Vaer asked. Larman looked down at his feet for several seconds, which gave his sister the perfect opportunity to answer for him.
“He thinks you’re bad,” she said.
“What! No. I mean, I’m just being careful of strangers,” Larman corrected her.
“So you didn’t believe Mr. Sert?” Vaer asked.
Larman thought for a minute, then answered, “No, but I do wish I could tell him I’m sorry for it. I didn’t think he was lying, I just thought he was confused.” A tear welled up in his eye, and he wiped it away.
“Larman, you were born a creature that loves the darkness. You must deny your desires for it. You can’t do it alone or by your own power.”
Oh yes I can! Larman thought, He thinks I’d trust a stranger over the wisdom of my people? Pop wouldn’t budge an inch. Larman would have made up his mind about Vaer that moment if the kind, contented, face of Mr. Sert didn’t come to his memory. How many times had he been jealous of Mr. Sert’s peace? Then, almost as though in answer to his thoughts, he heard Vaer speak again.
“Mr. Sert is safe with me. He’s safe from the Eara and this rogue world. I can bring you to that place if you’ll trust me. I died for you just as Mr. Sert told you.”
Larman struggled with himself for a minute. He was so afraid. He was afraid of the Eara but even more so of Vaer. If he couldn’t make it himself, what twisted ruin would he become? Would the Maker of Everything welcome him to a better place, if he presented the cheap gift of his own efforts? He now saw it wouldn’t be so, and answered, “I’m so sorry for everything. I don’t want to follow the Eara anymore or their magic. Could you ever forgive me?”
There was silence for a moment, then like rain in the desert he heard, “Yes, I do.”
Shyly, Larman thanked Vaer, trying to hide his happiness. He had not felt so since he had had his accident with the hatchet. Lilien was oddly silent, and he turned to her to see why. She was looking up at him and smiling. He could still see the red mark on her face.
“Lilien, I’m sorry for hitting you. I—I was really scared, and I shouldn’t have done that,” Larman said.
“That’s okay. Don’t worry, you’ll always be my big brother,” she answered.
Then she rushed forward and hugged him. Larman looked back at Vaer but found he was gone.
“Where did you go?” Larman called with longing in his heart.
“Don’t worry, I’m still here,” he heard Vaer’s voice say. “If you are wondering what to do, go up to the Scout Hall and wait there.”
“The Scout Hall?” Larman asked. “Why? There is no-one there.”
There was no reply, and Lilien whispered to him, “I think he knows that, or maybe there is someone there. Come on, let’s go see.”
A thought that Lural might be there flashed through Larman’s head, and he resisted his sister who began pulling him.
“Lilien, stop pulling me all the time,” he gasped.
She let go of him.
“Well, why aren’t you coming then?” she asked, a little frustrated. He wrestled with her question, not quite coming to a conclusion. Only when Lilien started fidgeting with impatience, did he decide to go.
Everything was different when they began their journey up the familiar trail to the bluff. The trees were all bare, so they could see the sea much better than they ever could in summer. They passed the glade they had eaten breakfast in with their father, using only their fingers for lack of silverware. Then a bit farther was where the man and his dog had been fishing. There was still an empty fire pit beside the trail where his camp had been, and here is where Larman made a discovery. He happened to look over at the sea, and there, framed between tree trunks, was the thing of dread, the Tellibite fleet. There were over thirty ships coming into the cove, and half of them were Daugian galleys, apparently stolen. This scared Larman so much that he grabbed his sister by the arm and started running for his life up the bluff. But his ardor quickly exhausted them both. By the time they reached the real incline to the top, they were panting and gasping their way along. Finally, after Larman thought he would faint from fatigue, the Scout Hall came into view, still unkempt, still intimidating. They teetered past the wild landscaping and up to the great silent doors. Larman knocked a few times, only to find there was no-one there as he had suspected. He blew a lock of his hair from his eyes, and then sat down with his back against the door. Lilien joined him.
They were so tired, they didn’t feel like speaking. They simply waited there quietly, not certain for whom or what they waited. So quietly, in fact, that a flock of blue jays came and played in the nearby trees without noticing them at all. These squeaked and whistled while jumping from branch to branch like flashes of blue flame. Some even cast fiery sap to the ground when they landed in the high branches. The clouds began to part and the sunlight warmed Lilien and Larman as they sat and waited.
They couldn’t see Sgilt from where they were, but it was certain that the Tellibites were already there. Larman wondered if they would break in and loot his house. Perhaps they would burn the whole town down like they had over a millennia ago. He began to feel restless. He wondered how long it would be before the Tellibites came here. The idea that perhaps they were sitting and waiting to be captured kept pestering him, and he thought about where there might be a good hiding spot away from the door. But the crying of the jays distracted him, for they began warning each other and flying away to the right. Someone was coming, and it sounded like it was someone on horseback.
Larman scrambled up and pulled his sister to her feet just in time to see a grey dappled horse approach. The rider was wearing a faded indigo cloak. It was Lural. She rode up to the door like thunder and practically fell off her horse right in front of them. As she struggled a few steps with her balance, Larman thought she looked even more insane than ever before. He flinched when she noticed them and pinned them in her usual strong gaze. He had the courage to look into her eyes though, and when he did, he didn’t see madness, he saw clarity.
“Lilien, Larman, what are you doing here?” Lural asked fearfully and out of breath.
“We missed the ships fleeing town. But what are you doing here?” said Larman.
Lural looked quickly over her shoulder and mumbled out, “ecomen—er—eh.” She shivered as she said this.
Before Larman could even think about this nonsense, she pushed them both aside, unlocked the doors, and pulled them into the Scout hall. She closed and bolted the doors securely and then turned around and said, “Follow me, quickly!” They did follow her, but struggled to keep up as she raced across the hall and into the corridor. Larman remembered this place well, and he was surprised when Lural turned and entered the strange room with the marble floor. As she passed the desk there, she grabbed the stones that Lilien had discovered would stick together. She went down on her knees in the center of the floor and appeared to be looking for something there. She separated the stones and placed one on a specific vein in the marble. To Larman’s astonishment, she pulled up an entire square of the floor that stuck to the stone, revealing a pitch black opening with a ladder going down.
“You must hide down here for a while, until my brother leaves. I told my horse to flee, and you can call him by yelling his name, Sadard. Remember that,” Lural explained.
Larman was hardly listening to her and blurted, “What? Remember what?”
“You must hide, and then take my horse Sadard to Vagulent in Epicenta. Take this!”
Lural took something off of her cloak and gave it to Larman. It was a medal shaped just like one of the symbols he had seen on the big tapestry in the main hall. It was her symbol.
“Give this to Vagulent,” she said. “Now you must go.”
Larman, who was still not processing the moment, watched as Lilien made her descent into the dark hole. He followed after her reluctantly. Just as his climb brought his head below floor level, he saw Lural about to seal the opening over them.
“No wait!” he said, “Aren’t you coming?”
Lural stopped and narrowed her gaze at him.
She spoke very slowly and calmly, “Remember, my horse, Sadard, go to Epicenta, see my brother Vagulent. There is paper down there for you to write that down, so you won’t forget.” She smiled at Larman and added, “May Vaer protect you.”
After these words, Larman’s world was plunged into darkness as the opening was sealed over his head.
Now at that very moment, Orn stood silently outside the Scout Hall with fear and yearning battling in his heart. He remembered once being welcome here, in the old peaceful days when he was young, but that was like a faded dream to him, now that he was nothing but a stranger and an enemy before its great doors. He found it to be beyond chance that he would find his sister still in Sgilt. He thought she was reasonable, and had fled with the townspeople to a secure location. The surprise of her sudden appearance in Sgilt, and the long chase after her up the bluff, forced him to think differently.
Because he found it to be beyond chance, he thanked his god—which was his own sword—before bringing out an old golden key. It glinted as he used it to unlock the doors and slip quickly into the hall for the first time in almost half a century. His Scouts followed quietly behind him, all gathering together around a table in the center of the room. They glanced at each other as they listened intently. Neither Orn nor anyone else heard a sound in that massive hall. There was only a quiet hissing complaint from Loz-da-von which Orn immediately rebuked.
“Must you pain me even in silence?” Orn said softly, eyeing him across the table.
Loz-da-von was still angry from an earlier argument and whispered as loudly as he dared, “You act like the Daugian that you are! You do not even have the courage to burn that cursed town to the ground? I told you it’s not acceptable to leave standing what our fathers have turned to ashes! Don’t you understand?”
“I will not tell you again why I spared it,” Orn said dismissively. “Stop chattering like a freezing bear. Or do you need my help to stop?”
Loz-da-von glared at him viciously as several of the other Scouts chuckled, and Orn turned away to face the great tapestry at the end of the hall. At first Orn looked at it shallowly, but then he came to understand its imagery. A flower in the teeth of an orn encircled by seven symbols caught his attention, and he was filled with guilt. For he was looking at a memorial to what was referred to among the Scouts as “The Stalemate”. He remembered well that frozen battle in the ruins of Doka, Scout against Scout, brother against brother. It had been his idea to settle disputes between Tellibie and Daugia, but now he regretted it deeply, not because no-one won, but because he had almost destroyed with his own hands the last two people he still cared about, Lural and Vagulent.
“Dook, Loz-da-von,” said Orn after a long reflection. “Go and find my sister, and bring her to me unharmed. I know she’s here.”
“Am I your slave?” Loz-da-von retorted.
“No, all I ask is that you obey me like I am your father.”
“Ah! And you think you are a worthy comparison to him? At least we will be the proper distance from each other for a little while.”
At that, Loz-da-von stomped into the corridor fuming and Dook followed him anxiously. Loz-da-von didn’t know Orn was being literal when he said, “obey me like I am your father.” Orn had never told him the truth.
Thoroughly, Dook and Loz-da-von checked every room and even pondered carefully the purpose of the empty room where Lilien and Larman were hiding, but they did not discover its secret. They found no-one, until they came to the balcony. And there they found Lural, hunched over the railing and facing the grey sea. When she turned to face them she looked ill.
“Aru shlelt here?” she asked, then pointed crazily at them both.
“A what? Are you mad?” Loz-da-von snapped.
Immediately, Lural unsheathed her sword and held it high above her head. There was battle in her eyes, and Loz-da-von and Dook prepared themselves for it. But she did not rush at them. Rather, she cast her weapon over the balcony and it tumbled hundreds of feet before clattering onto the stony beach below.
“Now, take me to this brother of mine,” she said. “I know he wants to see me.”
Loz-da-von and Dook backed away as she came towards them. She was shivering as though it were severely cold. Her eyes seemed to be looking at things that weren’t there. With trepidation, they escorted her down the hall and into the presence of Orn, who was reclining in a chair.
“How old you look, Lural,” Orn said with a smile when he first saw her.
Lural didn’t say a word. She only stared at him with a kind of look that needed no words.
“I am curious as to why you are still here when the rest of the town has fled. Why do you submit to capture?” he asked.
She still didn’t speak, and Orn started to feel embarrassed by how intently she kept her gaze on him. He yelled, “Have you gone deaf? I asked you a question!”
Lural held up her hand to silence him and shook her head. Then she spoke.
“How guilty you look,” she answered. Orn’s face almost turned the same color as his cloak.
“You’re hiding something. Tell me what it is!” Orn demanded.
Lural remained calm and said, “Vaer told me to be here.”
At the mention of Vaer, Orn smiled to himself, and started chuckling.
“Ah yes, Vaer has indeed brought us together,” he said. “This is obviously beyond coincidence, and I am thrilled that you are now his subject just as I am.”
Lural didn’t seem to know what to make of this, and Orn laughed at her apparent confusion.
“Oh, Lural,” he said. “Do we speak of two different things? I now see what you are doing. You are hiding someone here aren’t you?”
Lural shivered and remained silent. Orn could feel he was gaining the upper edge and added, “You gave away your Scout symbol to someone. You believe I will kill you?”
Yet Lural shot back at him confidently saying, “You practically did already. You think I will tell you the secret of what it means to be a real Scout?”
Orn sighed, frustrated by her resistance. “Being a real Scout means preserving yourself. Power pieces can’t be sacrificed without losing the match. Are you hiding someone worth such a thing, or are you losing your mind?” he said.
“I am not in control of the fate of the world. All I can do is love Vaer and the people who cross my path. That is all I have, brother.”
Orn sat silently for a long while after Lural said this, knowing she was speaking of a Vaer different than the one he knew. He was angry with her, but he also desperately wanted to mend their relationship. He couldn’t stand to look at her any longer, and ordered his Scouts to take her away.
Many hours later, when silence fell upon the Scout hall, Lilien and Larman came out of hiding. The sky was golden with evening light, and the sea sparkled just as they had seen it a thousand times before—yet things were now different. The world had changed, and the past was fading into a dream of awe and woe. They would have to face the future by themselves for the time being. Larman was afraid when he looked over the vastness of the sea, and Lilien was hopeful when she saw the golden sunlight in the clouds. Vaer would be with them, whatever came, and would not abandon them.
Lopëu
THE END