The Lost Eight by Duron Crejaro (read me a book .TXT) 📕

“Dearn wait.” It was the only thing he could think to say as he watched Dearn run off. He had angrily told Dearn all the things he needed to know, but that by the same token he did not want him to know. What would he do now he wondered to himself as he watched his brother’s figure fade into the crowds.

***

A prince? A king? Kaelina thought to herself as she shadowed Dearn. And she thought her life was complicated, she smiled to herself at the thought of it. Could it be true though? Why would he say it if it weren’t? And who is this Belladria, and the mysterious gray eyed man from her vision, how was he mixed up in all this. She was positively giddy with excitement. She of course knew little of the details, and had little true notion of how Dearn’s world had just been floored. One thing she was sure of, was that her dream had been right. The gray eyed man, they called Elris, was here in Thyrinn, just as she had predicted. That meant something, she had to tell Dearn, make him listen, even if he did not want to.

She caught him in the courtyard before the Temple of Siladia. The weather seemed to her as enraged as Dearn looked. A brisk chill wind had set in, brusquely nipping at her, causing her cheeks and ears to brighten to a blood red, almost like a blush, her tangled mass of crimson locks danced in it, long singular strands which made up her bangs whipping about wildly. “Confound it Dearn.” She yelled out high pitched and exasperated as she attempted to stop him.

Dearn turned, giving her a quick once over. His face contorted in a hundred different emotions all vying for dominance in his mind. “I’ve not got the time presently Kaelina. Other more pressing matters have been brought to bare.”

“Like your brother miraculously showing up alive. With that strange looking lizard man.” Her voice nearly shrill with insolence, he would hear what she had to say.

He paused at this, only a moment. His eyes narrowed, “Spying on me were you?”

“Not that you really left me much choice. Traipsing about, ignoring me, avoiding me for the last few days.” Her defense came out as an indignant huff. “Now I won’t claim to know exactly what is going on, because my spying as you call it only gives me half the story. I do know there is a lot of talk of war coming for us all, and I don’t exactly know what all that was back there, but I had to tell you. My dream I told you about a few weeks ago. About the gray eyed man coming to Thyrinn. Well he is here. It is your brother’s friend. The one you call Elris, as soon as I saw him, I knew it was him. This, all of this that is happening means something, something immense.” Her ranting ended, she felt she had gotten her point across as best she could, so she stormed off.

Dearn was dumbfounded, finding himself chastised by the lithe nothing ragamuffin of a girl who had just left him standing in the open courtyard. He did agree thinking on it, this old myth of the War of Eight and their artifacts. Elris showing up with Creolis and Desoil, the strangely colored lizard man and his Crown, supposed of Elia. He figured she was right, He could not in good conscience allow them to go running off into the wilderness alone, at least not without finding out the whole story.

Surprisingly he found them readying their gear to horseback, preparing apparently to depart forthwith without pomp or ceremony. “Really? You drop an angry rant like that on me. How I’m the heir of some far off kingdom, and not really your brother. That Elris spirited me away as a child, and then you’re all just going to up and leave?”

“Of course not,” Elris said with a large smile. “We’ve got a horse for you as well. Creolis said you would be back to hear the whole story. So get ready and saddle up, It’s a tale worth hearing, but you’ll have to hear it en route.”

“So you really mean to go to Dalsor?” Dearn did seem a bit concerned by this.

“Of course, it will be fine. There are a right many things you need to know.” A coy smile began to play across his face.

Dearn was silent in his saddle. Elris had lain out the story for him as they began their journey. Leaving out only his confession of Belladria, and of course the secret he refused to give anyone, who the other heir was. He did not press the issue, his mind having trouble enough absorbing what he had learned. A stolen heir to some kingdom halfway across the world, hidden away with the Kynra family, though to his credit Creolis acted no differently. Still, his supposed ability to control the Lost Eight’s magnificent power, Desoil’s strange appearance and Elris evidently over two thousand years old and Renad’s Tempest no less, all grand and outlandish ideas.

It had been decided soon after their rushed departure that it would unwise to try to make it straight away to Dalsor with what little provisions they had brought, not to mention horses simply were not made for a trip through the Desolation. A hardier better-suited animal would be needed if an incursion into that blasted wasteland. So, they headed to the northwest of Thyrinn, making for a small town, little more than a trading post of a village situated on the edge of Lake Tril, known simply as Bemo.

It was extremely late in the evening the second night of the three-day trip to Bemo. Three of the companions were fast asleep, and the fire was burning low. Only Elris was awake, his turn on the evening watch. He sat relatively absentminded before the fire poking at it with a large stick. None of them really expected any trouble, though the danger was there, it was small. That of course would change as they moved closer to The Desolation. Reaching over he grabbed a medium sized chunk of wood they had gathered as they made camp earlier in the evening, tossing it into the dying fire. Winter was beginning to come to a close, but a strong chill still held its grip on the land, especially this late at night. Elris sighed a little to himself reflectively. Having to talk about his past, even in as limited a way as he had was hard on him, but necessary he felt as the search for The Lost Eight had began in earnest and the race to prevent another apocalyptic war was on. The sound of rustling in a nearby bush snapped Elris back to reality. He perked up slightly, figuring it to be just some local vermin nocturnally rummaging about, but was taking no chance. Slowly he got up from where he sat and began strolling about the campsite in a random fashion. As he neared the brush where the sound had emanated from, he suddenly leapt into action, dashing over into it with practiced grace. Hiding in the brush he grabbed a small lithe form that he could not make out in the darkness. He pulled the small struggling figure up from its hiding place into the firelight; he found himself staring into terrified wide pale green eyes and he could not help but gasp as he roared uncontrollably, “You!”

His outburst roused the camp instantly, as he brought a slightly struggling mass of tangled red hair to rest by the fire. Dearn rubbed his eyes blurrily, looking at the figure Elris had just deposited fireside, then jumped up astonished, “Kaelina, what in Renad’s name are you doing here?”

“What is going on? Who is this girl Dearn?” Creolis asked perplexed.

“She’s my friend from Thyrinn. One of the cities orphan’s.” Dearn offered as way of explanation. “Why did you follow us from the city Kaelina?” Dearn said

“I was curious. With everything going on, I couldn’t just sit in Thyrinn and wonder.”

“Well that’s exactly what you’re going to do.” Added Elris. “Cause as soon it’s morning we’re taking you back.”

This of course caused protest from her. She started shivering from the cold as well as her nervousness at the idea of being sent back. Dearn quickly offered her a warm fur-lined cloak, asking if she was hungry. Of course she was, cold and hungry, tired as well from having to rush on foot to keep pace with them. They fed her, and she ate silently as they discussed her fate. Finally, it was decided that she would accompany them, and they would drop her back in Thyrinn on the return trip. All of this of course was much to Elris’ protestation. Kaelina sighed with relief, both from the decision and having a full stomach, and the knowledge that she would no longer have to run to keep up with them, as Dearn had volunteered to allow her to ride with him.

The next day they hit the trail again, heading quickly for Bemo. Kaelina sat happily astride Dearn’s horse as they rode. Creolis looked over at her as they rode, inspecting her in the daylight. He thought she looked rather a mess and voiced his opinion. “You look like you could use a wash, a brush, and maybe a dress.” He said with a laugh as she gave him a horrified look.

They arrived in Bemo in the early afternoon. The town, if you could call it that, was quite small, consisting of only ten or so buildings, including a large, if worn down inn. It was here that they stopped for the day, to gather the supplies they would need for the treacherous foray into The Desolation. The innkeeper, a man who introduced himself as Joria, and his wife Maria, greeted them warmly as they entered. Then Maria saw the young girl traveling with them and became all flustered at the general disarray of her appearance. She hustled the young girl away. Elris took Desoil to the traders post, they figured to buy a few Danu, and possibly hire an experienced guide to join them on the dangerous trek. Creolis, and Dearn went to buy supplies for the journey, also as Dearn suggested, more suitable clothes for Kaelina. They could not very well have her journeying with them looking like a common city beggar.

Dearn and Creolis quickly procured what was needed, paying in advance and assuring the proprietor that they would be by in the morning to pick everything up. All except the clothing for Kaelina. Creolis in mirth at first suggested they actually get her a dress, but in the end, they settled for clothes more suitable to traveling, trousers and a simple blouse. They then left to join the other two. They found them nearby, having just agreed on a price for five Danu. They