IRON TIDE - CHAPTER 15

Sarth could feel the waves of the Sunless Sea as if they were splashing over his own skin. His senses had encompassed the schooner as it cut through the dark waters, surrounded by a weak glow that let them navigate. His friends were back manning the oars as were most of the sailors. Their ship was taking on water and while a few of Rhommas’ crew were trying to seal the cracks the decision was to try and make it through the nearest portal back to the surface waters. The unpleasant goblin, Peck as the crew called him, had been fished out of whatever hiding spot he had found during the battle and sent back up the mast and flying through the air like a misfiring gnomish rocket. After Peck had found a portal Rhommas and Isyluela had taken up positions on either side of him, trying to teach him the ways of navigating the Sunless Sea.
Isyluela had taken on the attitude of a professor like the kind she studied under at the Great Library. She would talk about the fundamental theories and guidelines of psychic navigation. Rhommas on the other hand had a much more practical approach to things, pressing them forward lest the ship sink or break apart before they reach their destination. Sarth tried to listen to them and follow their advice but the thrill of navigating was an all too attractive siren’s call and he found himself shutting them out completely and becoming the ship itself as it cut through the waters. In comparison he was slow and weak compared to what had piloted the ship before but he hadn’t realized just how fast even a slow navigator could go. He could feel the ship skirting in and out of the Astral Plane, how the ship would seem to speed ahead and then slow down as it bounced back and forth between movement by thought and willpower and movement by mundane forces of wind and waves.
Getting to the surface was only part of their problems, he thought. The damage first the ship of the dead and then then the sea monster’s tentacles had caused were like open wounds on his own body. He could feel the cracks in the hull like broken ribs, the cuts to the decking like scrapes on his own skin and yet despite the pain he felt more alive and free than he had ever before. He had been practically paralyzed with fear about being trapped in a tiny backwater like Mendo, of living a small life trapped at the edge of civilization but here and now he had discovered his freedom, his path to a new life. He didn’t know much about Navigators but from the way Isyleuela and Rhommas were talking about it they were rare and in high demand. He could helm a boat and travel along the edge of the Astral plane to anywhere in the world. He just needed to get them to dry land before the hull cracked apart.
He withdrew from the boat to drop back into his body to hear Isyleula and Rhommas arguing back and forth. “What about one of the ports? We could head to Noir-De-Mare?” Isyleula had grown nervous after seeing how much water was coming in below deck and they were still a ways away from a surface portal. Rhommas shook his head, “No, we can’t head to any ports. Too much traffic. If anyone comes upon us we’re not outrunning them again and we’re a fat prize limping along with a skeleton crew. Don’t you have any spells or anything to help?” This time it was the half-elven wizard’s turn to shake her head. “No, sorry. Nothing that will make a difference. I wasn’t very far in my studies before they kicked me out.”
Rhommas nodded and pointed at the glowing line stretching out barely a hundred feet in front of their ship. “Then we focus on the portal. We get to the surface and hope we land somewhere safe.” The captain turned to Sarth and put his black hands on the young man’s shoulders. They had seated him in the navigator’s chair positioned in the middle of the ship near the broken central mast. Here he was closest to the middle of the ship, the essence that made the ship.
“Alright, Sarth was it? Relax your mind, focus your mind. You envision a destination and the seas will propel the ship forward to your destination. It doesn’t matter the distance, it matters how clear your mind is so focus on the portal and get us out of here.”
Sarth pulled his mind further back from the ship and the water glow receded, barely stretching past the front of the ship. Sailors all began nervously looking back afraid they were once again lost. Sarth looked up at Rhommas and shook his head, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to envision. What does a portal even look like?”
Fear crossed Rhommas’ eyes but he kept his voice calm and steady, like a parent talking their child away from a dangerous edge. “Imagine an archway made of stone, but not smooth stone. Rough and sharp like the rocks you see poking out of the ground. Inside the archway the air and water shimmer like a mirage. Have you ever seen dark rocks left out in the sun on a hot summer day? How the air quivers above it? That is what the portals look like but you need to see past the portal to find the right one. This one leads to the Northlands. That’s what Peck said at least. Have you ever been there? No?”
Sarth shook his head. Rhommas just nodded, his eyes darting around as he mentally shifted tracks.
“Alright the Northlands are full of rolling hills and fast moving waters that cut through the land. Steep cliffs and waterfalls as it pours down from the Thunderpeaks and heads out to sea. It is cold so the trees are tall and thin with tiny pointy needles instead of proper leaves. In between the hills are deep valleys, green as can be. That is where the towns are, nestled in the valleys protected from the snow and storms. Imagine being in a town and seeing hills all around, maybe with a little bit of snow at the tops of them. A fast-moving stream cuts through the hills and right next to your town. They’ve got a whole series of waterwheels hooked up to take advantage of it and…”
Isyleula looked over raised a hand as if she was still in her school days. Rhommas looked at her, confused but then nodded at her. “Uh, Captain. Don’t we need to be specific? Aren’t there dozens of portals to the Northlands down here?”
Rhommas waves his hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. He just has to be thinking about the Northlands and that should get us to the closest portal. If not…well there isn’t much we can do about it anyway. We make it…or we don’t.”
He turned to Sarth and patted him on the shoulder. “Remember boy, rolling hills, icy cold in the winter with those tall skinny trees covered in frost and ice but warm summers with kids tumbling down the hills for fun. Think of waterfalls and cool streams and a crisp wind always nipping at your skin.”
Sarth took a breath and let his mind sink back into the wooden frame of the ship. He could sense the glow push forward again and he focused on what he imagined the Northlands had been. He had never left Mendo but he understood the pieces that we described. He knew about cliffs and snow but once you left the cliffs the Grainlands were very flat. He thought about the waves of the sea rising up and down and imagined grass forming that same shape, a whole area rising and falling. He pictured how puddles formed in the depression of boot prints during the rain and thought that was the towns that Rhommas was talking about, filling in the troughs between the waves. He had never seen a waterfall but he remembered when his mother first became sick she collapsed, knocking over a water pitcher. The water had cascaded down over the side of the table and splashed against the dirt floor of their shack. He tried to imagine that on a larger scale. It was difficult and the different pictures didn’t really fit together very well. Grass waves, puddle cities, surrounded by cliffs and water spilling down but as he brought these different images together, he could sense something in the difference. An archway, one cut from rough stone and through which he couldn’t really see but could somehow sense and feel that his land of grassy waves lay on the other side.
With a rush of excitement, he locked onto this destination and felt himself compelling the ship to move faster. The glow brightened and he could feel it pushing out further and further. One hundred feet, then a hundred yards. The ship was closing the gap in no time and while he couldn’t hear with his ears he could feel the footsteps on the decking around him moving about with swift purpose. The portal grew closer and he pushed his mind to increase the speed. He could feel the water pouring through crudely repaired holes in his body and he felt like he was slowly drowning. He didn’t know how long he could keep above the surface but he realized that time was not on his side and he pushed himself even faster. The glow was getting brighter and the footsteps running all around. Back and forth he could only imagine what the crew was doing to prepare for the transition.
The portal was right in front of him and he could feel the rowers pushing and pulling the oars to position him in line with the portal. His excitement grew and he could only imagine what the transition would be like. It was far more horrible than he could ever imagine. As soon as the bow hit the portal it was like his body began going numb. He panicked, trying to stop but they had too much momentum and in an instant the boat was carried through and his mind along with it. It was like someone had snuffed out a candle in his mind. Almost instantly he was struck blind and with his whole body numb he was trapped in a dark pocket of oblivion. He couldn’t tell if he was falling or floating and he wondered if this was what death felt like. He felt a jolt in his arm and then with sudden joy he realized that he could feel an arm. Another jolt went through his arm and this time he could feel a little bit more, part of his torso and part of his leg. Another jolt of electricity and his senses began to come back to him. He had arms and legs, he had ears that were picking up faint sounds and eyelids that were closed. He snapped his eyes open and saw a dark sky above him but this time the stars were not moving on their own. Instead they were stationary and the giant silver discs of the moons of Eldath were hanging in the sky. While he couldn’t find any familiar constellations the moons he could recognize instantly. They were on the surface. That noise he was hearing came back to him as cheering as the whole crew, sailors and rowers, were dancing around hugging one another and whooping for joy. They had made it back to the surface, far from the undead legions or giant monsters of the Sunless Sea.
Next to Sarth, Isyleula was chanting out loud, moving her fingers in intricate patterns. Suddenly electricity shot from her fingertips and into Sarth’s arm. He jolted upright, cursing as the brilliant fire of pain went through his body. Isyleula gave a shriek of joy and dropped down to her knees to hug Sarth, and to keep his body from falling back and knocking his head against the deck.
Over him Rhommas was looking down with worried eyes. “Sorry about that lad, I should have told you not to be Navigating when we hit the portal. You can’t navigate on the surface. All that psychic stuff doesn’t work up here because you’re too far from the Astral plane. Too much interference or something. I heard tell that it’s pretty rough…yeah, I should have warned you. Sorry. Next time, right?”
He gave Sarth a half-grin before tapping Isyleula to let Sarth go and offered the boy his hand to help him to his feet. “You did it lad, here we are in the Northlands safe and sound.”
“The Northlands? How far is that from the Eisweld? That’s where I need to go.”
Rhommas nearly choked and shook his head. “You’re basically on the opposite end of the world. Thousands of miles. Maybe tens of thousands of miles. Not a journey I’d make on the surface realm so it’s either a Flux Gate if you can afford it or another trip through the Sunless Sea. Or…well maybe you’ll find another way.” Rhommas gave Sarth another pat before turning to direct his men to bring the ship to shore. Sarth didn’t see any traces of civilization but Rhommas hopeful they could patch the hull enough so that they could just drift down the river until they reached a port somewhere to put in for proper repairs.
“Although I don’t know how well they’ll be able to repair a ship like ours. Plus…” he pointed upwards at the night’s sky. “It is fine during the night but most of the crew will need to take shelter during the day. Too bright, your surface land. Oh well, one problem at a time, right?” He flashed his pearly white grin through parted black lips at Sarth and gave him another clap on the shoulder. “You did good, man. Real good. We should be dead, no? I guess not today.” He gave out a laugh and then left Sarth to focus on directing the rest of the crew. Sarth was given a pass as the transition had taken almost all the energy out of him. He could barely stand let alone haul ropes or patch holes but his friends, along with Zarissa and Isyleula, were all drafted to work. They would stop by occasionally when their work allowed them.
Eventually fatigue got the best of them all and Rhommas found an alcove along the river that the shallow-bottomed boat could be moored to. The crew departed and began setting up camp and soon a large bonfire was lit. The survivors were going to sleep on the ship but for now they enjoyed the warmth of the fire and the solid surface of dry land.
Sharn and the Luckies quickly found him sitting by the fire’s edge and sat down exchanging their stories. The thrill of surviving had them wrapped up and one could barely finish before the next one jumped on. Sarth and his new-found navigation ability was the main focus of everyone’s attention and his friends listened intently as he finally shared with them the dreams he had been having with the golden dwarf.
“I think I know who that is…” came a soft voice from the edge of their little circle. Isyleula was there eating a stew by herself but had apparently been eavesdropping the whole time. When the others didn’t object she came over and joined the four in their little cluster of conversation.
“Do you know what a Gold Dwarf is?” When the Mendo four shook their heads Isyleula straightened up and put on her academic lecture tone. “Do you know about any of the high races?” Again the four shook their heads. “Okay among the non-humans there is the story of creation. The first god split himself into four parts, each part encompassing some fundamental force of the universe: law, chaos, good, and evil. Each of these gods then created servants to help build Eldath and everything within it. These servants became the high races. You have Blood Orcs, High Elves, Flux Gnomes, and Gold Dwarves. Do you see what I’m getting at now? I don’t think this was a dream, I think you were visited by a messenger from a god.”
“But why me? Why would the god of law…”
“Vultin. That’s the name of the god of law and the progenitor of the dwarves.”
Sarth felt a flash of annoyance at being interrupted. This was going to be a long conversation if she had to interrupt every time he got something a little wrong or omitted something.
“Okay fine, Vultin. Why would Vultin send a messenger to me and not to one of his dwarves?”
Isyleula’s shoulders slumped and the confidence drained from her voice. “I…I don’t know. That’s a good point. Maybe it’s some sort of destiny? Maybe it has something to do with your navigator powers? It isn’t common for human men to be navigators. You’re not the first but they are quite rare, I think. At least the elves seem to think so.”
Sharna and the Luckies looked back and forth with quizzical looks on their face and Sarth suddenly realized that they hadn’t been introduced yet. Isyleula had been his rowing partner, not theres.
“Guys, this is Isyleula. She’s some kind of scholar of the elves.”
“Well, not quite. I was an apprentice at the Great Library of Salarenthiel. I was being trained to become a wizard and scholar in the elven tradition before…well before the elves decided that non-elves no longer needed to be instructed.”
“So how did you end up on our boat then, girly?”
Sarth rolled his eyes and pointed to the speaker. “These are my friends from home. That one is Lomas. His brother there is Lucin. Twins aren’t common and these two always seem to be able to get in and out of trouble easily so collectively they’re known as the Luckies.”
Isyleula smiled at them and nodded but Lucin was putting up mock protest. “Hey, just so you know we resent you constantly treating us like we’re a singular person.” “Yeah,” agreed Lomas, “We get in far too much trouble to be just one man.” The two grinned, the fire causing shadows to dance across their face turning them into mischievous imps.
“Over there is Sharna. She came along to keep the rest of us out of trouble.”
“Yeah about that, I have a complaint. Me and me brother don’t think you’ve been doing a mighty fine job of that, Sharna. First we get drugged by bandits then enslaved on a ship, then we’re fighting undead and sea monsters and then there was the whole sinking into the depths of the abyss. Now we’re what, a million miles from Mendo? Tsk tsk, I’ll be having a complaint with your master, young missy.”
Sharna didn’t respond to the Luckies ribbing verbally, instead opting to throw punches at the two of them until they stopped mocking her and started complaining about the bruises and welts forming on their shoulders. When Sharna had cowed the Luckies into submission she turned to Isyleula and smiled.
“I saw that it was your electricity spell that caused the tentacles to let us go. You have our thanks for that. You saved our lives.”
Isyleula blushed a little bit and showed off her blackened fingertips. “I…thanks. I mean I didn’t think I could do it but I had to try. I shouldn’t have been able to do it. The elves never told me you could literally burn yourself by channeling too much magic.” Her voice drifted softer as she looked down at her charred fingers. “I just hope they grow back. I mean they should, right? Nobody wrote that you could blast your hands off so it must not be a big deal, right?”
The Mendo four just shrugged. Magic was far above and beyond their worldy experiences. Lomas scratched his chin before changing the subject.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Anyway you never answered how you ended up on that boat. Were you captured too? A slave to the crew and all that?”
Isyleula shook her head. “Oh me? No. No of course not. I was booking passage to Noir-De-Mare. It’s the largest pirate port in the Sunless Sea. Its name is a rough conversion from the dark elf phrase “By the Black Sea.” Kind of. I mean that is probably what they intended it to be but after thousands of…oh yeah. Sorry. I tend to ramble on sometimes. Sorry.”
The others were just staring at her. Sarth had grown used to her love of knowledge but he figured it would take the others a bit of time to appreciate having a walking encyclopedia accompanying them.
“So, you mentioned you were captured by bandits, right?” Isyleula said, changing the subject to cover her embarrassment. The Luckies shifted their heads, locking eyes on where Zarissa was eating and laughing with the other crew. They might have fought side-by-side with her and her men but now that the threat of undead and drowning were gone the pair were more than willing to bring their grudges to the forefront. Sarth took the lead, hoping to keep things civil. There was no point in surviving all that they had gone through only to get shivved in a camp fight.
“Yeah, that woman there captured us. A dwarven stoneship crashed on our shore and we were taking the weapons and armor to the local capital to trade for supplies for our village. And I was going to take a Flux Gate to the Eisweld to deliver a message to the dwarves down there.”
Isyleula perked up again at mention of the dwarves. “Oh really? I’ve never been to Eisweld but I always wanted to go. The elves don’t actually have a lot to say about the dwarves so I was hoping to get an eyewitness account of things. Do you mind if I join you? I have no where else to be at the moment. I was supposed to be sent home but there is nothing left for me there. If I can’t learn about the world from the Great Library the next best thing would be to at least see some of it. And…I don’t know, maybe I can find a place for myself. I might not be a full wizard but I can make myself useful enough.”
To prove a point she raised her hands and the began to weave a spell. An orb of fire pulled itself up into the air from the camp and began to hover over their heads, darting this way and that like an oversized lightning bug. With a wave of her hands the orb winked out and the Mendo four politely clapped at the display.
“What was the message?” Isyleula inquired. Sarth’s hands reached for his pockets but then he remembered that he had been stripped of everything. “I had a badge of some sort. Hang on…”
Sarth turned to Rhommas who was a few people down talking to some of his own crew.
“Hey Rhommas. I want our stuff back. The dwarven equipment.” Rhommas looked at him and grinned, shaking a finger. “Now, now, I need something to pay for repairs with and that dwarven gear of yours will go a long way.”
Zarissa looked up with a fury in her eyes as they were negotiating away the gear she had rightfully stolen, in her mind at least, but said nothing. She had no support anymore and after navigating them to safety Sarth was viewed highly by the sailors and other survivors, so she was forced to sit and listen.
Rhommas stood up, walking around the fire to stand in front of Sarth. With the fire at his back and his dark skin blending in he looked like a living shadow giving him an intimidating demeanor, if not for the constant smile he flashed.
“I know why you were on my ship and what had happened. You saved us all and I am not ungrateful fo that however I am also a business man so let me instead propose to you a trade.”
He reached for one of the chains around his neck and pulled it up revealing that there was an ornate brass key on the other end with the shape of a cog on the handle. Next to Sarth, Isyleula gasped when she saw it glittering in the firelight.
“This is one of my most prized possessions. I need a lot of money for a new crew and repairs and you need to get to the Eisweld. I’ve been to the Exchange once before and I know they will be able to help you out some way. This is my proposal, I’ll give you the key and you leave all of your dwarven gear with me.”
The campfire had grown silent as everyone watched the key dangle from Rhommas’ neck. Half those seated, including the Mendo four, had no idea what the key meant but from the reaction of the other half it was clear he was offering a king’s fortune.
Sarth opened his mouth to respond but Isyleula spoke up before him. “He’ll take it. Done.” Sarth, Sharna, and the Luckies flashed her surprised and irritated looks. Sarth began to protest but Isyleula looked him dead in the eyes and shook her head. “Take it, Sarth. The Exchange can do whatever you need. You need to get to Eisweld, they’ll have a way.”
The Luckies were able to get in a word edgewise. “Hey it’s not just about that. We’re supposed to help out our village. Sarth needs medicine for his sick mother and Sharna was going to get some books and stuff.”
Isyleula looked like she was trying to talk to a pair of children. “Take. The. Key. The Exchange can do all that, and more.”
This time Sharna spoke up, “What even is this exchange? Exchanging what?”
Isyleula’s eyes lit up, practically sparkling in the firelight. “Magic. They trade in magic and that key is a free pass to everything that they have to offer.”
Previous Chapter: IRON TIDE - CHAPTER 14 Next Chapter: IRON TIDE - CHAPTER 16