The Belirocean Chronicles Part 2 Chap. 3

Chapter Three

Three hours after leaving the house, the group reached the river. It was just around mid-morning, and they were planning on taking a half hour break after crossing the river. The mood of the group was festive as a ferry slowly slid towards the bank.
Suddenly, Lesina gasped and her hands sped into words.
“Kasil! The soldiers are checking for a boy with six toes!” Anara cried.
Kasil sprang into action.
“Thesaol, go hide in the bushes with Lesina!” He said, shoving the two children into the bushes.
Five minutes later, the soldiers stepped off of the ferry, and walked straight for Kasil, swords swinging ominously at their sides.
“Sir, we must ask you to remove your shoes please,” One said.
“If you’re in need of shoes-” Kasil began, but the soldier cut him off.
“No. Remove your shoes or I will remove them from your dead body,” he said, drawing his sword.
In the bushes, Thesaol went to his own blade. Lesina slapped his arm down.
If you attack them, then you’ll also die, she signed.
Back on the road, Kasil shrugged, and kicked off his shoes. Ten toes wiggled in the open air.
The soldier scowled, and snarled, “You can go on your way.”
“Thank you sir,” Kasil said.
A minute later, Kasil waved Thesaol over to them. They crossed the river, and kept going, instead of stopping like they had planned.
For two weeks, they continued without trouble. The only notable incident was an accident. Lesina had gone to a small creek next to the camp. Thesaol didn’t know she was bathing. He walked to the creek to fill some jugs with fresh water. While filling the bottles, he saw Lesina.
Immediately, Thesaol turned away, and finished filling the jugs, before running back to the camp.
For the longest time, the creek problem was not mentioned, and Thesaol forgot about it.
Finally, Thesaol reached Ar-Eglano. They camped for the last time outside of the great city. The city gates opened in the early morning with a tremendous racket: the daily blaring of the enormous golden horn. At night, the smaller silver horn was blown, and the gates closed.
Three hours after the horns were blown, Thesaol followed his friends as they started on the last five miles of their journey.
But, only three miles in, another problem showed its face. Soldiers were guarding the city gates. They were most likely checking toes, as well. Kasil immediately drove the group into the trees alongside the road.
“Here’s the problem. Those fools by the gates are obviously looking for you Thesaol. There is another entrance, about a day’s walk west, but it is probably filled with soldiers as well,” Kasil explained.
“Can’t we just go to Tacael, and explain the situation to him?”
“He’s a wanted man, same as you Thesaol,” Kasil exclaimed.
“Well, what if we disguise you?” Anara prodded.
“How? By cutting off a few toes? Be realistic Anara,” Kasil blew out.
“I am. No blood. Dresses or skirts. He can go in as a woman,” Anara brought to light this suggestion as Lesina made it known.
“That will work I think,” Thesaol voiced.
“Well then, let’s try it,” Kasil agreed.
An hour the group set out again. They went straight to the gates, and the guards stopped them.
“State your business here!” The leader snapped.
“I’m just passing through with my wife, and my two daughters sir,” Kasil imparted dishonestly.
“Two daughters? That’s unusual. Most families have at least one male child,” The soldier said suspiciously. “What are your names?”
“They’re mute sir,” Kasil fibbed.
“Both of them? That is extremely strange. Two daughters, and both are mute?” The soldier probed.
“My wife’s late mother was born mute as well. We think it is hereditary,” Kasil uttered, holding his breath.
“Well, I’ll need you to remove your shoes sir.”
“Why would you need me to do that?!” Kasil exclaimed.
“There’s a traitor spreading rumors around the Empire. We don’t know much about him except that he has six toes on each foot. However, you don’t seem to be him. You and your family may proceed. No trouble making though,” The soldier said.
“Thank you sir, and may God bless you and your family,” Anara said gently.
“Why would he? My family’s dead. They all fell to that murderous dog, Rijon Moonshine.”
“I’m sorry to bring up such a sour subject,” Anara quickly apologized.
The group moved on, and Thesaol breathed a sigh of relief.
“Excuse me, but do you know where I can find a Mr. Tanelo?” Kasil asked a passing couple.
“Tanelo? Of course! He’s the shipbuilder! He’s due to sail any day now! Keep straight down Main, and turn left. He should be the third door in the warehouses. Man practically lives there.”
“Thanks,” Kasil said, continuing to walk.
The group went for another hour, before finally reaching the docks.
Kasil knocked on the door, and a man’s voice called out, “Who’s there?”
“It’s a friend with a friend, my friend!” Kasil called.
The door was opened, and the group was ushered into the building.
“Kasil! I told you not to come without the boy! It’s too dangerous!” A man cried out angrily.
“Tacael?” Thesaol asked. “Tacael Kuraska?”
The man jumped at Thesaol’s voice.
“Thesaol Madalve?” He inquired breathlessly.
“My father told me to give you this letter,” Thesaol told the man, handing the paper to the man.
“What’s with the dress? You aren’t-“
“No. We ran into soldiers on the way here,” Kasil laughed.
“Oh! I see!” Tacael exclaimed with a sigh of relief. “Well, the bathroom is just down the hall. Why don’t you go change, while I read this note?”
Ten minutes later, Thesaol walked back into the room in his own clothes. His sword, as usual, was hidden under his pants.
“Thesaol, I apologize, but Kasil insists on having me look at your sword. May I see it?” Tacael asked.
“Sure,” Thesaol shrugged. He drew the blade, and Tacael took it gently from his hands.
“See? There it is! I remember that ruby! Barasila herself asked that be put in the hilt! Anara combined it with a spell that would keep the ruby in Alasar’s possession!” Kasil cried excitedly.
“It proves nothing Kasil. If I learn otherwise, I shall tell you with all haste. For now, I think you should go home,” Tacael prodded.
Kasil scowled, and left the building.
“As for you,” Tacael continued, “Follow me. I need to show you something.”
Thesaol followed Tacael into a room full of wooden carvings.
“It’s how I pass the time,” Tacael explained off-hand.
Thesaol lifted a dusty dragon off of a shelf, and blew on it.
“It’s really good workmanship,” He stated, replacing the dragon.
Tacael pulled an ancient bottle from another shelf.
“This is the bottle Sarin found on the beach that he found you on.”
Thesaol took the bottle from Tacael, and pulled a roll of paper out of it cautiously. The paper was yellowed and crackled with old age. Thesaol gently unrolled it, and began reading:
My dearest Alasar,
I hope this letter finds you with a happy life behind you, for now your life is probably in grave danger. My name is Rijon Moonshine. I am your father, and the exquisite Lady Barasila is your mother. I hope you will find your way to us, if you live to read this. I want you to know that I never meant to leave you on that beach. The chaos of thousands of elves rushing around confused me. We were always afraid for you, and Barasila insisted on getting Kasil Serande to forge a golden hilted sword for you. We always kept it in your cradle. I hope you will come. I can’t bear to think of you all alone on that beach forgotten by all but the great goddess Ledar.
Rijon Moonshine
Your father
Thesaol looked up.
“Alasar… They named me Alasar… Sarin wanted to protect me, and he named me Thesaol… Kasil was right about the sword. It names him in the letter…”
“Alasar Moonshine…” Tacael breathed.
Alasar shook his head wildly in a sudden chilling breeze. To Tacael, it seemed that the boy was shaking off his old life.
“They said the sword was really mine. It’s the first thing I have ever had that was mine, except my pictures.”
“The sword is what the other letter was about. Sarin wants you to learn how to use it, while we sail for Ledarnia,” Tacael said. “Unfortunately, my next voyage is nowhere near Ledarnia. After this trip, we can sail for Ledarnia. Will you join my crew?”
“Of course I will!” Alasar cried.
“Great. But for the whole journey, you are my friend’s son, and we’ll keep the name Thesaol. I will be Tanelo, okay?”
“Yes,” Alasar replied
“Let’s go.”
They both left the warehouse. It was the last time Tacael ever saw his home.
They stepped into the early afternoon light, and Tacael led Alasar to a large cargo ship.
“Hey! Tanelo! Who’s the snack?” Someone called.
“This is my friend’s son, Thesaol. We have to babysit him while his dad is away on business,” Tacael called back.
“Well, everything’s ready when you are,” The sailor called.
Alasar followed Tacael up the gangplank, which was then stowed neatly on the ship. Alasar wobbled on the deck, as the ship bobbed around in the harbor. He tripped over a rope, and Tacael hauled him to his feet.
“Find your sea legs boy!” He yelled, sending Alasar down below deck, with the rowers.
Alasar sat on a wooden bench, and grabbed an oar.
“Pull!” Someone yelled.
Alasar immediately pulled at the oar, as the ship lurched sickeningly under his feet.
“Pull!” The man roared again.
For the next five minutes, Alasar wore himself out rowing. But suddenly, Alasar felt the weight of the oar lessen. He glanced over, and saw another elf rowing next to him.
“You’re wanted topside boy,” The elf grunted, straining at the oar.
Alasar leaped for the aisle between the benches. He tripped over the elf’s feet, and the ship swung to the right, as the elf missed the pull.
“Watch it you idiot!” The elf hissed, as Alasar stood up again.
Alasar sprang clumsily towards the stairs leading into the sunlight. He rammed his face into the top step, and cried out in pain.
“Quit your whining and get moving! You are needed in the air!” A sailor bawled.
The loudness of the man’s voice caused Alasar to jump in shock. Bleeding slightly from his nose, Alasar scurried up the main mast of the ship. He straightened up to find himself on a narrow ledge thirty feet above the deck. The rowers kept going, and the resulting swaying from their efforts was intensified a hundred times by the height Alasar found himself at. And it didn’t help that Alasar was terrified of heights.
“Hey! New boy! Get over here!” Someone called.
Alasar threw his arms around the mast, and tried to maintain his balance. He looked around, and saw the sailor, who called him again. Alasar dropped to his knees, and began inching across the mast arm.
“This is what they give me to work with?” The man said in disgust. “Stand up straight boy, and walk over here! Don’t come crawling to me like a baby!”
Alasar slowly stood up. He held out his arms to either side, and shuffled precariously over to the sailor.
“Good. Now, do you see these knots here?” The elf demanded.
“Yes...” Alasar whispered faintly.
“What did you say? Speak up boy!”
“Yes,” He said again, a little louder this time.
“Good,” The elf growled. “Now, I want you to untie this knot, and hold onto the sail. Don’t you dare drop it, or you will be falling after it in a second.”
Fingers trembling uncontrollably, Alasar worked away at the knot in the rope. He was constantly pressured to work faster by the sailor. The threats coming from behind him only made Alasar’s fingers dance even more nervously. But, finally, the knot slipped loose into his hands, and Alasar clamped his shaky fingers around it. The sail fluttered gently in his hands, and Alasar felt a wave of triumphant exhaustion sweep over him. He turned to look for some sign of approval, and suddenly felt the sail being wrenched from his grasp.
Instantly, Alasar leaned forward to catch the fabric.
“Kid! Stop! Don’t lean!” The sailor yelled.
But Alasar had already leaned too far. He only heard the roar of the wind rushing past his ears, as he fell off the ledge. Alasar didn’t even scream as he dropped off.
Suddenly, an arm wrapped itself around Alasar’s ankles. His plunge miraculously stopped.
“Kid! Grab my arm!” The sailor called from above.
“I-I ca-can’t,” Alasar whined in horror, staring at the deck 25 feet below him. It might as well have been 25 miles from his vantage point.
“Give me that rope!” The sailor bellowed at someone.
The rope thumped into Alasar’s side.
“Grab the rope boy!” the man yelled.
Alasar swiped at the rope, and his hands clung to it. His feet were released, and Alasar screamed in terror as he swung into the rope.
“I am going to lower you slowly! Do not let go of the rope!”
Alasar wanted so desperately to prove he wasn’t scared stiff, and say “No, really?”, but he couldn’t even move his lips to whimper, let alone speak.
The rope began falling towards the deck. It stopped seven feet short of the wood, and Alasar stayed on it.
“Thesaol, let go of the rope,” Tacael said from behind him.
“No!” Alasar choked out in fear.
“I won’t let you fall Thesaol.”
Two arms encircled Alasar’s calves, and pulled him away from the rope. He was set gently on his feet. The deck suddenly pitched and heaved under his feet, and Alasar fell onto the wood in a faint.

“I love you Alasar,” The woman whispered, cradling the crying baby in her arms. “I will never let anything hurt you. I swear it in Ledar’s blessed name. You will be safe once we land on the island.”
“We won’t let anything hurt you,” The man standing next to her broke in. “You will grow up safely, away from wars, and far away from death.”
A messenger suddenly burst into the room. “Sir! The army is upon us!” He cried out.
The woman cried out in horror. She fell to her knees next to a large cradle, and placed Alasar inside of it. The woman began heaving at the bulky carrier, but she couldn’t lift it.
“Barasila! Get to the ship!” The man yelled.
“Not without Alasar!” The woman screamed.
“I’ll get him Barasila! Go! Put everyone on board! I’ll bring him with me!”
“No! Mom! Take me with you! I don’t need the sword! Just take me with you! Mom!”
“Thesaol!”
“No!”
“Thesaol! Wake up! Get up!”
Alasar bolted into a sit. He wasn’t in a tent, he was in a ship. For a wild second, he thought that the past had been changed, until he saw Tacael. Tacael was standing over him, and several sailors were surrounding the bunk.
“Thesaol! What happened?” Tacael cried.
“I can’t talk about it,” Alasar gasped, trying to stand up.
“It’s okay Thesaol. They are friends of mine,” Tacael said, waving towards the sailors.
“Sh-She tried to take the cradle... It was too heavy... He promised to get me, and then he forgot...”
“Tacael, what is he talking about?”
“Nothing that concerns any of you. Now scoot. Go light the deck up.”
The sailors left the room, and Alasar noticed a stack of paper in the corner of the room.
Tacael followed his gaze, and said, “It’s my personal memoir of my life. I’m nowhere near finished; most of it is just journal entries. I’m looking for an illustrator, but-”
“Illustrator?” Alasar perked up instantly.
“Do you know one?”
“I can draw really well,” Alasar offered.
“Well then, you can draw whenever you want to,” Tacael said, delighted. “But now, back to our real business tonight. Sarin wants that sword to be useful for you. That means that tonight, I’ll be beating you up, much to the night crew’s enjoyment, and tomorrow night, Laris will take over for me.”
“Night crew?” Alasar asked.
“Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you. I sail with two crews on every voyage. The day crew is the sailors forced upon me by the Empire, while the night crew is my hired help. The day crew does most of the hard work, while the night crew usually stays on standby, in case of whole scale slaughter during the day. But, let’s not keep the crew waiting much longer,” Kasil said, heading out of the cabin.
That was how the new schedule was broke to Alasar. Every night, he sparred with either Tacael, or Laris, and after learning something new with his blade, he would work on illustrating Tacael’s book. Then, Alasar would sleep for the daylight hours, and the schedule would repeat.
One night, ten days after leaving Ar-Eglano, Tacael called a sailor into his cabin while Alasar was sparring with Laris.
“Jacole, I have a dangerous job for you,”Tacael said quietly. “It’s concerns Thesaol.”
“He’s an amazing kid. Laris keeps beating him up, and Thesaol just keeps bouncing back for more. You’d think that after the third or fourth cut arm-”
“Jacole, I need you to take a message to Rijon Moonshine. Now, what I am about to tell you will be shocking, but I don’t know how else to handle this. First of all, Thesaol isn’t his name. It’s Alasar. Second, Rijon told me to help the boy find his way home. You know I can’t do that with the devil’s agents on my ship, so I will need Rijon to come and take Alasar as if he was going to raid us.”
“WHAT?! You must be-” Jacole started to say.
Tacael covered the sailor’s mouth with his hand. “Please be quiet,” He hissed. “Rijon will attack the ship, and ‘kidnap’ Alasar. Then Alasar will be on his way home, and we can go on our way with a very interesting story.”
“How-”
“You’ll have to find one of his warships, and ask to be taken to the island. Say that you have news of Alasar Moonshine. They’ll know who that is.”
“But why?!” Jacole cried.
“Alasar is Rijon’s son. His adopted father found him on the beach where the last battle took place. Now the child is going home. You will be cast off tonight as soon as the ship is ready. Now go, and remember, no one can know about this!”
The sailor left the room, and Alasar barged in a minute later. He was bleeding badly from a cut on his cheek, and the blood was dripping onto the floor of the cabin.
“I can’t do this any more!” Alasar cried. “Every night it’s the same! Let’s face it Tacael. I will never be able to fight with a sword!”
“That’s ridiculous! You did better than I expected the first night!”
“I don’t like sword fighting. It’s too brutal. Why can’t I just learn how to use magic and be done with blades?”
“Alasar, battles are won by steel,” Tacael said.
Alasar glared at the captain.
Tacael sighed. “Oh well. I will be testing you again tomorrow. For now, just do whatever you want.”
Two days passed, and Tacael tested Alasar’s progress with the sword. They stood on opposite sides of the deck.
“3...2...1... Draw!” A sailor called out.
Alasar glanced at his side, and pulled the blade out. He looked back up, and just barely blocked a slash.
“Didn’t I tell you on the first night to always watch your enemy?” Tacael cried.
Alasar struck back at the man, and missed, leaving his left side wide open. Tacael sliced down Alasar’s ribcage, and blood began flowing freely.
Alasar fell to his knees, and the world around him went dark.
“Sir! Tacael wanted to wait until the day crew was lost!” Jacole cried.
Alasar was standing motionless against a wall. From where he stood, Alasar could see he was in a room about 20 feet across and 15 feet wide. A map was lying on a table in the middle of the room. Alasar stared at the map for a second, before someone nearby yelled out, “Do you think I care about what Tacael wants?”
Rijon Moonshine stepped towards Alasar.
“Tell the helmsman to take this course!” He snapped, handing Alasar a different map.
“Yes sir!” Alasar found himself saying.
Suddenly, the world around him blurred, and Alasar found himself in a blinding light.
“Alasar, it is not time for you to rest. Rijon is coming. You must warn Tacael, for he is about to come home to me,” An elf said softly.
“Who are you? Why are you torturing me?” Alasar screamed tearfully.
“All questions will be answered in another day. Now you must go.”
Alasar woke up with a start. He was lying in his bunk below the top deck. Alasar leaped out of bed, and tried to run up the stairs. He gasped in pain as the barely clogged wound in his side reopened.
Fighting light-headiness, Alasar pulled himself up to the top of the ship. He stumbled to the cabin, and burst into the room.
“A-Thesaol! What are you doing here?” Tacael cried.
“I need to talk to you,” Alasar gasped out.
Tacael nodded at the sailors in the room, and the cabin emptied until the two were alone.
“What is it Alasar?”
“Rijon Moonshine is coming!” Alasar coughed, clutching his side. “He’s upset over something, but I don’t know why! We need to try to avoid him! Someone is going to die in a battle!”
“Alasar-”
“Ship approaching from the southeast!” An elf yelled.
“Alasar, get below deck, and no matter what happens, stay hidden!” Tacael hissed, pushing Alasar outside.
Alasar ran awkwardly towards the lower decks. He buckled his sword on, and sped back towards the deck. Alasar reached it just as a swarm of black arrows fell on the sailors.
A rope pulled the two ships close together, and several elves leaped onto the ship Alasar was on.
Alasar drew his sword, and backed down the stairs as the sounds of dying men reached his ears. He fell backwards as a body fell next to him. Then, in the crowd of elves, Alasar saw him.
Rijon Moonshine was terrible to behold in battle. With every swing of his sword, Alasar’s father dealt death to many others. He stood tall, and his face was deathly pale, and harder than a vampire’s skin.
Alasar watched in horror, as Rijon met Tacael in battle. The fight was quick, and Rijon’s blade served him well. A deft twist of his wrist slit Tacael’s wrist, and in the next breath, Rijon stabbed Tacael in the gut.
“No!!!” Alasar screamed.
He leaped out from the lower decks, all thoughts of self-preservation gone. Alasar hacked at Rijon, and his father calmly warded off the blow.
“I think someone has a thing for you Tacael,” he laughed at the dying man. “Just so you know, this one is for Barasila’s brother.”
With those words, Rijon stabbed Tacael in the chest, before ducking under another slash. He backed away, and stared at his new victim. It was a boy, not even 15 yet. In fact, he looked just like the description Rijon was given of...
No. Rijon couldn’t afford to think about the boy right now. But still, the words of a messenger who was long dead kept reading out in his mind.
‘Alasar is with Tacael...’
“Alasar?” Rijon breathed in amazement.
The boy snarled, and ran at Rijon.
“Siate! Blariake!” Rijon cried.
Alasar froze, and Rijon stepped towards his long-lost son. His eyes took in the sword in Alasar’s hand, and rijon whispered, “Where did you get that sword?”
“Let me go!” Alasar screamed, frothing at the mouth.
“Okay,” Rijon sighed. “Siate.”
Suddenly, Alasar wasn’t being held up in mid-air. He fell forward, and landed on his face. Rijon stepped on the sword as it slid, and he picked it up. Alasar lunged at his father’s ankle, snapping at it. Rijon easily dodged it, and he brought his knee up until it connected with Alasar’s chest. Alasar fell backwards, wheezing.
“Take the boy to the holds, and keep him there until I arrive. Do not harm him, and make sure he can’t injure anyone either,” Rijon ordered.
Two soldiers grabbed Alasar by the armpits, and he began fighting wildly. The struggling wasn’t for his immediate freedom; Alasar knew he was no match for the soldiers the way he felt right now. Instead, he was just trying to get a dagger from a fallen body without anyone noticing the weapon. He stashed it into his pants, and went limp.
Three hours passed before Rijon finally went to see Alasar. Alasar heard the footsteps, and he slipped into the shadows within the cell.
“Alasar, I just want to tell you that I am so sorry. Battles get confusing,” Rijon said, coming into the hold.
“Really? It seemed to me like you wanted to kill Tacael. No confusion about it.”
“Alasar! I was trying to save you! Tacael got in the way!” Rijon cried.
“Well, no matter what happened, I will never forgive you for his death Rijon,” Alasar spat.
The words slapped Rijon in the face. “Alasar-”
“Forget about it. Nothing you say will help,” Alasar said.
“Fine! You can just stay in there until you give up your hatred of me!” Rijon fumed, storming out of the area.
Night fell, and the ship grew quiet. Alasar made his move then. Breathlessly, Alasar inserted the dagger into the lock on the door, and he slowly turned the knife. The lock clanged open, and Alasar winced at the sound.
After a minute of silence, Alasar carefully pushed the unlocked door open, and went to the cabin. He slipped Tacael’s story into a small box, and added a small figurine into the bag as well. Then, Alasar slipped back to his bunk, figuring that he could at least sleep comfortably while he was free.
Rijon noiselessly followed Alasar down below the deck. He watched for an hour before he was certain Alasar was asleep. Then, Alasar’s father slipped over to Alasar’s side. He took a blanket from under his arms, and placed it gently over Alasar’s sleeping body. Rijon took a sheathed sword out, and put the weapon on a small table next to Alasar’s bed.
The next morning, Alasar slept in late. He finally woke up at the sound of multiple feet trooping across the rowing deck. There was only one explanation for the noise. They were approaching Ledarnia.
Alasar stood up groggily, and a blanket fell off of his body.
‘That’s weird,’ he thought. ‘I didn’t have a blanket last night.’
Then, Alasar saw his sword lying next to the bed. He understood at once. Rijon had known he had the dagger hidden on him after the battle. Alasar had been allowed to escape.
Alasar took his sword, and went above the sleeping quarters. He went to the cabin, and pulled out a sheet of paper with a woman on it. If Rijon had seen it, he would have sworn the picture was of Barasila. And he’d be right, for Tacael was the elf who had arrested Barasila’s brother for treason when Barasila was just a young child. The story Alasar was illustrating was the story of Tacael’s time as a soldier in the service of the Empire. The picture was an exact copy of Barasila, yet Alasar stared at it, and ripped it in half in frustration. The portrait wasn’t good enough for him.
Sighing, Alasar left the room. The ship was sidling up to a dock. Turning around, Alasar came face to face with his father.
“Alasar, stay close to me when we land,” Rijon said firmly. It was obvious that he was expecting Alasar to struggle with him.
“Where are the dragons? I’ve never seen one,” Alasar asked.
“What?” Rijon blustered, taken by surprise. “I- uh... I don’t know where they are right now. There’s around 200 dragons on Ledarnia at this moment, and they pretty much mind their own business.”
The ship bumped gently against the walkway, and the gangplank was placed onto the docks. Alasar scampered down the wood. Despite his hatred of the man who called himself Alasar’s father, Alasar couldn’t help looking around eagerly at his new surroundings. He held the box with Tacael’s story close to his body, as a wild herd of elves stampeded the docks next to the newcomers.
“Sir! Let me help you with that box!” Someone said, reaching for the box in Alasar’s arms.
“No, thank you,” Alasar said nervously, clutching the box even closer to his chest.
“Sir, I insist!”
“No. I can carry it myself,” Alasar persisted.
Rijon laughed quietly next to him.
“Great Ledar, you’re stubborn boy,” He chuckled.
“I guess I got that from my dad’s side,” Alasar shot back.
A group of elves nearby bowed at the sight of Alasar and Rijon. Alasar’s face reddened in embarrassment at the sight.
“You’ll get used to this,” Rijon assured him.
“I don’t think I want to get used to this,” Alasar retorted.
Rijon just shrugged, and continued walking.
Alasar stared at everything he could set his eyes on. Stalls were lining the streets already, at only an hour after sunrise. Fish competed with bright colored clothing for the money of the unwary passerby. The roads were clogged with wandering elves, and the noise was appalling. At least the streets were clean. Alasar had lived all his life walking down streets full of human waste, and he had gotten desensitized to the smell. But here, there was no manure in the roads. The air was a breath of heaven to Alasar. He kept inhaling deeply, savoring each passing scent. There was definitely a metal smith nearby. Alasar could smell the heated fumes from the sparks.
“You’re ridiculous Alasar. I can’t believe you can just sniff the air like that,” Rijon said.
“Where I come from, there’s no such thing as a good smell.”
“The geomancers did all of this. They created tunnels under the city, and the tunnels take away all of the garbage and dump it in the ocean,” Rijon explained.
“Geomancers? What are those?”
“Elves who can move the earth with their magic,” Rijon said, pleased at the change in his son’s behavior.
They were out of the main part of the city now, and were climbing up a steep hill. As they approached a huge house at the top of the gradient, Alasar became more nervous. What if his mother didn’t want to see him? What if he brought back painful memories to her? But it was too late to turn back, for Alasar was inside the house now.
He gaped at the precious gemstones that adorned the walls of the building. Alasar had never even dreamt of so much wealth in the world, let alone in a single room!
“Rijon? Is that you?” A woman called.
The owner of the voice stepped into the room, and all of Alasar’s misgiving were shed off in that second. For the face that belonged to the voice was the face he had dreamed of his whole life.
“Mom!” Alasar screamed, running into Barasila’s arms.
“Alasar?” Barasila breathed, scarcely daring to believe her eyes. And really, who could blame her? Barasila had lost her son fourteen years ago, and suddenly, she was being squeezed to death by a teenager who was crying that he was that child.
“Well, that never happened to me,” Rijon snorted, trying to act as if he didn’t care. But Barasila could see the sorrow and the pain in his eyes.
Barasila pulled herself away from Alasar. She stared at him, trying to think straight.
“Could you please give me a moment to be with my son?” She asked of the room.
Several servants that had been watching the reunion sighed, and left the room. Only Rijon remained.
“Rijon,” Barasila pressed.
Scowling visibly, Rijon left the room as well.
“Alasar... You’re all grown up... I guess that means I missed most of your life,” Barasila laughed softly.
“It wasn’t your fault Mom. I know you tried that day. And maybe it’s a good thing I was left on that beach. Maybe, if I had grown up here, I would be a jerk to everyone. Don’t feel bad about what happened,” Alasar said.
“I loved you Alasar. I swore I would keep you from all harm, even as I couldn’t save Ryan, or Wyrsalin, or Masia. Especially Masia. She fell trying to give us a chance to sail away from the last camp. I still blame her death on myself.”
“Don’t blame yourself for anything Mom. I’m sure that would have been how she’d want to go,” Alasar soothed, although he had no idea who Masia was.
“Yeah... She’s with Wyrsalin again now.”
They began walking out of the room. Alasar followed his mother up a flight of stairs. Barasila floated along as if she was dreaming. She still couldn’t believe Alasar was home again.
They walked in silence to a room in a narrow hall.
“This is your room Alasar,” Barasila said.
Alasar could only stare in wonder. He entered the room, and saw a walk-in closet next to a bathroom. There was a huge bed set against the far wall.
“All mine?” Alasar whispered in amazement.
“Yes. It’s all yours Alasar,” Barasila answered. “The land will rejoice now because you are home again.”
 

Chapter Four
Barasila left her son, telling him to go explore his new home a bit. Alasar went out of the house, and walked through a large garden. On the other side of the gardens, he found himself in a huge arena. Elves were sparring with each other on one side of the arena, while on the other side, archers were shooting at targets.
Alasar stepped further into the sparring grounds. An elf jogged up to him, his sword in his hands already.
“Hello! Will you spar with me?” The elf inquired energetically.
“I’m not good with a sword,” Alasar said cautiously.
“I’ll teach you!” The teen laughed.
Reluctantly, Alasar drew his own sword.
At the sight of the golden hilt, the elf snapped to attention.
“Sir!” He barked.
“Watch your mouth. That word is highly offensive to me,” Alasar rebuked. “My name is Alasar, not sir. That’s strange.”
“What?”
“Only two weeks ago, I would have said my name was Thesaol, not Alasar,” Alasar explained, laughing.
“Well, my only name has been, is, and always will be Tanelo Kuraska,” The elf said, joining in with the laughter.
“Wait! Tanelo?” Alasar asked. “Are you related in any way to a Tacael Kuraska?”
“Why? I was asked that by the ruler when I first joined. I said no because he didn’t seem to like Tacael.”
“He was a friend of mine. He helped me get home again,” Alasar said.
“He’s also my grandfather,” Tanelo revealed. “He lives in a dangerous land, and he uses my name for safety.”
“Tanelo, he’s dead,” Alasar exposed.
“What?!”
“My father killed him. I don’t know why, and I will always hate him for killing the man who saved my life.”
Suddenly, a sword swung at Alasar. He fell to the ground, and the blade fell with him. Alasar frantically rolled out of the sword’s path, and leaped back to his feet.
“You lie! You probably encouraged that eralson to kill him!” Tanelo yelled.
Alasar struggled to ward off the blows from the enraged elf.
“If I encouraged him, I would have killed you the moment you said who you were!” He protested.
The two swords met in an explosion of noise. Tanelo threw himself under Alasar’s outstretched arm, and scored a hit on his opponent’s side. Alasar winced at the sudden pain in his ribs. He backed off, and pressed his right hand to the wound, for his left hand was occupied with his blade.
‘Aim for his right armpit.’
The voice entered Alasar’s mind without invitation. He took the advice anyways, figuring that it couldn’t really hurt more than now if he did.
Alasar’s sword pierced Tanelo’s side, and the other elf fell to his knees, gasping in pain, and in shock. Alasar backed up, and ran into a pillar.
“What the-?!” He gasped. The pillar was standing in the middle of the open air, holding up nothing.
Tanelo rushed at Alasar, blood spraying from his side. Alasar blocked the wild blow, and sent his foot into the elf’s gut.
Tanelo fell again, and Alasar turned and ran.
Alasar slammed his door shut, and locked it. He fell onto his bed, gasping for air. Suddenly, Alasar glimpsed a white object out of the corner of his eye. Still breathing hard, Alasar stood up on wobbly feet, and stumbled towards it.
‘Alasar, once you start, there can be no turning back...’ the voice warned.
But Alasar had already touched the object in amazement.
Instantly, Alasar fell back onto his bed, unconscious.
“where am I?” Alasar asked out loud.
“The sun,” A voice answered.
Alasar spun around, and saw the elf who had warned him about Rijon’s coming while he was with Tacael.
“You!” He cried in shock.
“Now we can talk Alasar Moonshine. No one is in any danger at the moment. First of all, you wanted my name. I am Ledar, Goddess of Alesranet. Next, we are in the sun. I find that this place is my only way to stay sane. If I get too close to the other galaxies, near the middle of the universe, I get such a headache! I come out here to recover in the silence of the dragons. They are the perfect creation. They almost never call upon me to assist them. Even when the elves came on, they still refused to cry out for help. Now I know that I can come here for a decade or two if I get too exhausted from the other creatures I’ve created.”
“There’s other lands?” Alasar gasped in amazement.
“Of course!” Ledar exclaimed. “In fact, you live on just a tiny portion of Alesranet! The whole planet is actually close to 75,000 miles wide!”
“But what-”
“We need to start the training Alasar Infant-rider,” Ledar interrupted.
“What?”
“You are the universe’s first Dragon Rider,” Ledar said. “There are four stages to a Rider’s life. The Infant-rider is still seen as normal. No one notices his changes, because at this point they’re all mental. Three stages make up this portion of your life. All Riders will be able to converse mentally, and hear the thoughts of most others. This will make up a single stage. The Young-rider is born when an Infant-rider’s dragon hatches. They will be a Young-rider until they have mastered their chosen branch of elven magic. Then their title is Dragon-rider. A Dragon-rider is at her or his prime. But eventually age will steal their energy. An old Dragon-rider is called an Elderider.”
“But why me?” Alasar cried.
“Because your partner wills it to be so. And because of a long ago promise I made to Rijon Moonshine,” Ledar revealed.
“Great. I’m being punished even more because of my father,” Alasar groaned.
“No Alasar. Not punished. Blessed. To be a Rider is a blessing my child. For many centuries, it will seem like a curse. There will be three separate branches of the Riders of Alesranet. You will found the Riders of Belirocea. Tanelo Kuraska will create the Riders of the Free States of Ledarnia. And Kasil’s long lost son will begin the line of Riders of the Ledarnian Empire.”
“You just said it will seem like a curse!” Alasar cried.
“And so will it seem until Tacael’s great-grandson take the throne of Belirocea. Even then, there will be only 30 years of peace for the Riders. Then Xealiun Kuraska will turn against the Riders, after he loses his best friend. There will be thirty other Riders who will assist him in hunting down the other Riders who have incurred the Emperor’s wrath. For 500 years after the crowning of Tacael’s child, the Riders will become all but extinct. But time is short. The major thing you must know is that the process of Initiating a Rider is more painful than anything you have ever felt. But an Infant-rider must not make any noise or thoughts during the stages, or the dragon inside the egg will be addled, and come out strange. And even the Rider might not escape intact, even if all goes well during Initiation.”
“What?! I am being punished!” Alasar lamented.
The brightness of Alasar’s surroundings began dimming, and suddenly vanished.
Alasar was lying on his bed again, and his body felt like it was on fire. He screwed up his face, and sucked in his breath in an attempt to keep himself from screaming in pain. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the fire was ended.
“Alasar?” Someone said uncertainly.
Alasar looked up, and saw Barasila standing in the doorway. She fell back a step at the sight of Alasar’s flushed face.
“Alasar, are you okay?” She asked, entering the room. She crossed the floor, and placed her palm on her son’s forehead.
“You’re burning up!” Barasila exclaimed in horror. “What happened?!”
“I don’t know Mom,” Alasar answered truthfully.
“I just came up to tell you that dinner is ready, but I think it would be better if you stayed in he-.”
“No Mom. I can eat with you and Rijon,” Alasar interrupted quickly.
Barasila sucked in her own breath at Rijon’s name, as if the sound of it was like so many sharp knives.
“Alasar, why are you insistent that your father is bad?” She inquired.
“He murdered the man who saved me from the blade of Belirocea.”
“Who?”
“A kind man named Tacael Kuraska,” Alasar revealed.
Barasila gasped and shrank back in terror.
‘No! It’s not possible! He assured me that Tacael would die in Ar-Eglano!’
“What do you mean Tacael would die in Eglano?” Alasar asked, not realizing that Barasila hadn’t spoken out loud.
“Nothing Alasar. Look, let’s just forget about Tacael, you and I both. Come on. I’m getting hungry,” Barasila uttered, confused. Had she really said that out loud?
They walked into a large dining hall together, both thinking furiously. For Alasar, he was in awe. Rijon had meant to kill Tacael on that ship! And his own mother was behind Tacael’s death! That obviously wasn’t something she wanted Alasar knowing.
‘Remember what I said my child.’
Ledar’s voice whispering into Alasar’s ear was enough for the boy to realize what was going on. He got an idea.
‘You said Riders can converse mentally?’ He thought.
‘Smart boy’
Ledar’s voice sounded smug. Alasar suddenly burst out in laughter.
“What?” Barasila asked, staring at Alasar.
“Nothing!” Alasar gasped out, holding his side. He had just thought of a young girl who had read so many of his embarrassing thoughts in Belirocea. Now he and Lesina would be on the same foot!
Alasar sat at a long table. Three servants walked out of the kitchen, carrying large silver platters that were heaped with steaming food. The three elves simultaneously placed the platters in front of the family, and Alasar reached forward.
“Not yet Alasar!” Rijon barked.
Alasar pulled his hand back from his food.
Tanelo stood guard at the dining hall’s door. He glanced at the family inside, and saw the three servers tasting the food.
Cearas! Oh well! At least they can’t trace the poison back to me!
Alasar heard the words in his mind just as the servers swallowed.
“No! Wait!” He cried out in horror.
He lunged towards the server closest to him, as the elf began gagging from the effects of the poison.
“Barasila! Get him out of here!” Rijon roared.
Barasila grabbed Alasar’s arm, and tried to drag him away from the table. She struggled to pull him towards the door guarded by Tanelo.
I can still take him out at least! A slip, or a dropped sword...
“Guards! Help me!” Rijon called out.
Tanelo cursed under his breath, and ran towards his commander. As he ran, Tanelo mentally calculated the chances of a flying sword accidentally stabbing Alasar as he tried to revive the dead elf. Or Rijon for that matter. Rijon would be a better target. Alasar could wait for another day.
Alasar heard the thoughts pouring out from Tanelo’s head. He took a breath to warn his father, and another voice entered his head.
Alasar! Rijon will be fine! Do not try to turn Tanelo from his course! He is acting as he should right now! His course will bring him to me to be trained!
‘How? By murdering my father?!’ Alasar snapped.
Tanelo was nearing Rijon by now. Alasar couldn’t just stand by as the knowledge that Tanelo would kill his family was left unused.
“Dad!” He screamed.
Rijon turned towards Alasar, and he saw the sword leave Tanelo’s hands. He sidestepped the blade, and the sword clattered on the floor.
“Careful soldier!” He snapped, handing Tanelo’s sword back to the boy. “Someone poisoned our food. we need to find out who it was. I’m putting you in charge of the investigation. Go!”
Tanelo stared for a moment, mentally screaming in rage. Then he turned, and stormed from the hall.
Barasila helped Alasar walk back to his room. Alasar was shaking like a wet dog from the prolonged effects of terror.
“Honey, it’s okay. We’re safe. No one can hurt you in here. Your father already has someone looking for the poisoner. Everything is fine,” Barasila whispered, rubbing the back of Alasar’s head.
“No... Mom, it’s not fine... Those elves are dead... It should have been me... I should have died... Their families will never-”
“Alasar, they knew what might happen to them. They agreed to put their lives on the line to keep us safe. Their families know that they were in a dangerous line of work.”
Barasila held her son as Alasar cried over the elves Tanelo had murdered trying to kill himself and his father.