Maroz 11 - Water and Earth

Opening his eyes Willim took in a long deep breath as if to reassure himself that he really could. “Oh man, I thought that was the end for sure.” He spoke the words in a near whisper to himself.

“It likely would have been if I had not laid my pride aside and begged for your life.”

Turning his head, Willim was surprised to see the Lieutenant standing there in the doorway. “I kind of remember something like that before I blacked out. I owe you.”

Walking the rest of the way in, Lieutenant Cleese sat in a chair beside the door, his feet barely reaching the floor, as he ran his short fingers through his near black hair. “You don’t owe me anything lad. I did it for the good of the army not for you. Word reached me that two of our three elementals were killed in an ambush on patrol. If he had killed you I would have only had one left.”

Sitting up on the bed Willim once again took another deep breath. “So what is my punishment for insubordination? I mean I defied the Emperor to his face. That must come with some consequences.”

A worried look came over Cleese’s face. “Oh it will boy. You can bet on that! But he is a sly one Malok is. He will hit you where it hurts most when you least expect it. As of yet he has not issued any discipline.”

So for three weeks Willim worried about what the emperor would do to him and nothing happened. He trained with the others part of the time and trained with Tremores the rest of the time. After a long workout with his sword, Willim’s body was dripping with sweat and he grabbed a towel to wipe himself down as he studied the city down below. Even after all this time he still could not get used to watching a city from up above it. The practice yards were high up on the plateau with the palace and from his position he could see the whole eastern side of Maroth.

The sounds of boots stomping on the packed ground brought Willim around to find a middle-aged soldier wearing the corporal’s raven pinned to his collar walking up to him. Willim had never seen this man before and didn’t much care for him right from the start. Too skinny to have seen much exercise in recent years he had a hard look in his eyes that gave his face an insolent look. “You have orders soldier Pillar. You are to report to Jenks at the west wing of the palace. Remember, the west wing. If you are seen anywhere else you will be punished by death.”

Willim only nodded to the man and waited for him to make his way away from him before sliding his shirt back on. The west wing from what he understood was the janitorial wing. Supplies for construction, tools, anything dirty was kept in that wing to keep the rest of the palace clean. The walk was a long one as the practice yards were on the east side of the palace and he had to make his way around the outside to enter through the western entrance. Willim didn’t mind the walk though. It gave him time to think on what he might be heading into. Jenks? Who was Jenks and what rank was he? He had never heard the name before. What would they need him there for? Probably gonna give me the task of burning some trash! The waste was kept in the west wing as well and the thought of smelling old trash burning didn’t set well with him. Fire! I would have to have the ability to manipulate fire wouldn’t I? Why couldn’t it be something useless like spirit or something? You never hear too much about elementals who use spirit. Willim had never seen either of the guards who now stood outside of the western doors but they definitely knew him by the way they nodded as he passed them. Pushing through the doors, he walked along the silent halls listening to the sounds of his heels echoing away as he searched for anyone who could give him directions. He should have asked the guards but he still had a hard time dealing with the way other soldiers stared at him because he was an elemental. Since his run in with Malok, the looks were far worse.

“Took you long enough boy!” The voice was that of an older woman and Willim smiled as he turned to ask her where Jenks was. He had barely opened his mouth before the old woman cut him off. “Malok said you were a strong shouldered one and you will need to be for this job boy. Now throw on one of those aprons and come with me. You have some work to do.”

Grabbing an apron from a rack on the wall the old woman pointed at, Willim tied it on as he followed behind her. “I was supposed to report to Jenks ma’am. I am not sure what rank he is or what he looks like but…”

“I am Jenks boy. Garnera Jenks! I am definitely not a he and I have no rank, but you will be working for me this week!”

Willim followed her for another ten minutes in shocked silence. A week? Doing what? I am supposed to be a soldier not a cook’s helper. Not that I want to be a soldier but that doesn’t change that I am. On and on his thoughts whirled as he followed behind Garnera Jenks as they walked down hall after hall and descended a dark stairways. I sure don’t want to be a cook’s helper either! What kind of chore am I… The thought froze in his mind as they entered into a large room two levels lower than where he entered the palace. A walkway went from the door along one wall keeping them higher than the water that filled the floor of the room and the stench nearly made him toss the lunch he still hadn’t eaten. The sewage room!

“See those holes along the far wall?” Garnera asked as she pointed them out. “Those are gutter holes. Any rain we receive runs through piping and into this room to help wash the sewage out.” Pointing at a large tunnel in another wall that was blocked off by barred gates, she continued. “The water is supposed to wash it out through those tunnels and down to the bay!”

As Garnera was still explaining, darkened water fell from a hole in the ceiling to splash loudly into the flooded room. Looking closer, Willim realized there were several of the holes throughout the ceiling of the large room. “The water doesn’t seem to be moving to me.”

Garnera gave him a sarcastic look as she continued to speak. “You are to clear the tunnel of debris so the water can flow out. Once the water is out you are to wash the debris out as well.”

Holding a set of keys out she waited patiently for him to take them before continuing on. “There are gates every one hundred feet to keep out intruders. Be sure to lock them up again when you are through each day. I will send Claire to bring you food at lunch. Boy, I don’t know what you did to deserve this, but Malok sure has it out for you.”

Watching the woman walking away and laughing, Willim gave her a stare of death, though in truth he knew it was not her fault. She doesn’t have to laugh at it though! Along the wall were a few sets of wide boots that would come up near the length of his legs and he slipped them on before grabbing the long rake, which leaned against the wall next to the boots. Of all the chores he could have been given, Malok made sure he had gotten the one he could not use his ability with fire. Of course Malok did not know he had no desire to twist any elements anyway so it was all for the better.

Minutes turned to hours as Willim lost himself in the work as much as he could. For five days he worked deep into the tunnels pushing waste further along and more than once had the pleasure of some more refuse falling on him while cleaning the debris from the room. The odor that was so horrible at first became nearly unbearable as time went on.

On the fifth day he had finished locking all of the gates and was cleaning waste out of his hair where the fresh water rushed in when the door opened admitting the old woman again. “Looks like you are about done here and not a minute too soon either. There is another job for you. It seems you have let birds and squirrels in through the tunnels and now you will have to comb the west wing for them and get them out.”

“You are kidding me right?” Willim drew himself up to his full height and tried to look down at the woman with authority as he spoke. “You know very well I did no such thing Garnera. Now if you don’t have anything of any real importance for me to do I think I will be going.”

Placing her fist on her hips the old woman gave him a hard eyed look as she spoke; her gray bun almost falling out did nothing to take away from her demeanor. “First off, I am Jenks to you. Nobody calls me by my first name! Secondly, you will be doing no such thing! And don’t even try taking that stance with me lad it won’t be working here. Now dry off and get to work!”

Willim opened his mouth to argue but shut it again as the woman walked away from him. It would do him no good to argue with her back and he was already sure the woman would not turn around if he shouted at the top of his lungs. “Set right from one demeaning task to an even more meaningless task!” Stepping outside of the room he turned and shut the door tight when he saw something in the corner of his eye. A large net with a long handle leaned against the wall next to the door.

The next three weeks were much the same. As soon as he finished one senseless task he was set on another until one day he had just finished cleaning the glass of his thirty-seventh oil lamp. Setting the glass back in place he turned and walked right past the rest of the dirty ones and went to find Jenks. After only twenty minutes of walking and back tracking and following bad directions from others he met, he found her in a large library sitting and reading. The sight of her lounging around while he worked his butt off only added fuel to his already boiling anger. He had lost weeks of sword practice that he could never get back now.

When Jenks saw him she stood up and put her fist to her hips again. “What are you doing here boy? You are supposed to be…”

“I am supposed to be doing the endless task of cleaning the lamps that any of the rest of the help could do!” The whole time Willim had been walking he had been ready to shout at her but seeing her kicking her feet up changed that. His temper went from boiling to a cold fury and his words came out calm and as cold as he felt. “I am supposed to be learning how to be a soldier not hired help for the palace. If you want the lamps cleaned you will have to find someone else to order around or clean them yourself. I am finished here.” Turning around he walked away, ignoring every word the old woman shouted at his back.

“Where have you been Willim?”

Stopping and looking around, Willim was surprised to find he had already made his way out to the soldier’s grounds. “Oh, hey Ramos, I have been busy in the palace. Malok has found it amusing to have me set to senseless deeds these days.”

Ramos ran his fingers through his blonde hair and chuckled as he stepped along side of his friend. “Yeah I heard about that story of you and Malok. You are sure popular with the other recruits and even some of the soldiers. So what happened? He get bored with the game and send you back here?”
“Nah, I just got fed up with it and walked out.”

Willim had walked another half a dozen steps before realizing his friend had stopped. Ramos just stood there for a moment before letting out a long low whistle while running his fingers through his long blonde hair. “You do like to dance with a dragon don’t you?”

“Aw give in Ramos. Malok only wants to harass me and I won’t play that game with anyone even if he is an emperor. You know very well you wouldn’t either. I’m sick of how everyone hates Malok but nobody will stand up to him. Anyway, what is he going to do? He won’t kill me because I am too valuable now remember? Come on; let’s go practice some sword work. I haven’t practiced in too long.”

As he turned towards the practice yard, Ramos followed along shaking his head. “I’m not so sure if you have a lot of brains Willim but you got courage, that’s for sure.”

For two hours they worked out when Tremores showed up at the yard calling them to hold up. “You did it this time Willim. I just heard orders come in to Captain Hanier to have you shackled and put in a dungeon. Malok is livid with you for some reason.”

Willim and Ramos shared a long knowing look before Willim turned back to Tremores. “Nobody is shackling me! I will die first! I can’t stay here anymore. There is no way I am going in a cell and nobody will stop me from leaving!” Remembering that Tremores was an elemental and a much more experienced one, Willim looked at the man and asked. “What about you Tremores? Will you let me leave or am I gonna have to fight you?”

Tremores grimaced as he shook his head. “I don’t want to fight you Willim, not any more than I think you want to fight me. But if they send me after you I will be forced to keep my orders. I’m sorry! But I will do this for you. I will tell them I haven’t seen you and they will search for you in the camp first. That will give you a couple of hours, head start.”

It only took Willim ten minutes to pack his bag and say good-bye to his friends before riding out on the best horse he could find. The sun was setting as he rode out of the main gates of Maroth and headed east. He knew some of the lay of the land to the east and had less of a chance of being cornered. The last thing he wanted to do was fight anyone.

After riding the night through, the sun was just climbing over the horizon when the wind picked up a bit bringing the sounds of horses from behind him. Stopping at the top of a slope he watched his back trail until he saw them. At least five hundred men had been sent after him and they had ridden the night through as well. “I hope you are not with them Ramos. You to Tremores.” Turning his horse he kicked it into a trot and stayed to as much grass as possible to keep the noise down. It wasn’t enough!

From behind him he could hear the horses coming hard and he dug his heels in, laying low against the horse’s neck. Stealing a look back over his shoulder he was surprised to see the soldiers falling behind as his horse stretched out for speed, yet somehow he knew his horse still had another gear if it needed it. “They will never catch me on this horse! The thought was barely into his head when the front right leg of his horse went into a rabbit hole with a sickening snap, sending them both into a tumble. Head over heels Willim fell before coming to a stop on his back, looking up into the dusk sky.

Rolling over, Willim got to his hands and knees and scrambled to where his horse lay, still struggling to get up on a leg that was broken in half. Grabbing his bag from the saddle he drew his belt knife. “Sorry horse. I never even had a chance to name you.” Running the edge of his knife along the horse’s throat, Willim scrambled back from the blood that flowed out. It all only took a moment but Willim could hear the soldiers getting close so he got up and ran to a small stand of trees. In the distance was his objective, a large hill of rocks and large boulders he might lose himself in, but without his horse he would not get there. As he ran past the first tree he heard the soldiers shout that they had seen where he went.

“Let’s just see how willing they are to come closer to an elemental.” Placing his hands against each other out in front of him he spread them wide apart. A large flame sprouted up from the ground half way between him and his pursuers and fanned out to make a long wall of fire the soldiers could not cross. “That should hold them for a few.”

Snatching up his bag, he ran again towards the hill of rocks, the sounds of soldiers shouting orders and horses whinnying from beyond the fire filled his ears. Pain began to pound in his sides as he ran with each breath becoming a labor to draw in. Placing a hand to his ribs he realized he must have cracked a rib in the fall.. Still he ran with one arm pressed against his side until at the base of the rocks he could hear the pounding of hooves behind him. Turning to look back, he stretched out one hand toward the oncoming soldiers, spraying hundreds of small spheres of flame toward them. The soldiers who were struck fell off their horses in a panic as they tried to frantically put out the fire while others horses reared and turned. By the time they got their mounts under control again, Willim had made his way into the safety of the rocks.

Scrambling up the rocks, Willim had to stop and catch his breath from time to time and it was at one of those times he turned and let his back press against a tall flat rock to rest. As soon as his weight went against it, the rock fell over to slam hard against another boulder. Catching his balance, Willim found himself staring at a cave that had been closed off by the upright boulder. A small spray of fire was enough to light up the inside of the cave and Willim was shocked to see there was a set of steps that led down from the opening. Makes one wonder who was hiding this cave? Then another thought hit him. Or what they were hiding! Looking around him, Willim made a decision then. With the darkening sky, the soldiers would have a hard time finding this cave, yet it would provide a good place to hide while they looked. If they do find it, they will see what fire can do in closed quarters!

The steps were covered in years of dust and dirt blown in through small openings around the boulder. Holding a small ball of fire ahead of him, Willim descended to the bottom to where it opened up into a large room. Adding to the ball of fire he lit the room up to see what he thought he never would. The room had a large oak table in the middle that was big enough to sit eleven men of who ten were still sitting in their high backed chairs. At least their bones were. Each, skeleton ass slumping either over the side of the chair or over the table and had a pewter cup in front of him with one large pitcher in the table that Willim could only imagine had held wine. Next to the pitcher was a smaller vile lying on its side. It was enough to tell him that they must have been poisoned. At the far end of the room was a large round platform with ten stone blocks set in a tight circle; each block having a thin rectangular slot cut through it in an angle upwards so that the openings on the inside of the circle was higher than those on the outside. The far wall held a mural of a man standing naked inside of those same stone structures with men standing at each of the blocks. The men on the outside of the blocks were thrusting swords through the slots and into the man in the center. Must be some kind of sacrificial ceremony! Suddenly Willim’s eyes were attracted to the two sidewalls, which held the most exquisite swords he had ever seen.

On one wall there were five while on the other there were only three swords, though he could see the mounts for two more. What had happened to the other two swords?

Striding over to one of the walls he lifted a sword from its mounts and looked it over in awe. The handle was wrapped in black leather and the blade was long, slender and as black as the handle with gold etching along the blade in some foreign language. Holding the blade out he tried a few of the forms he had been taught in his short stint as a soldier. Though he was far from an expert swordsman, he knew immediately the balance on this sword was perfect.

The sound of rock falling drew his attention and replacing the sword he hurried up the steps to see where his pursuers were. Only fifty paces away from him were a half dozen soldiers climbing straight at him. He had to do something he knew for if he let it go they would climb right into the cave. He could probably defeat them if they all tried rushing down the stairs but he had no desire to torch men alive unless he had to. What do I do? I have to do something. I have to! If only I was strong enough to move this boulder back in place! What am I to do? I don’t want to kill anyone!

A small scraping sound drew his attention and he looked down at the bottom of the boulder. Dirt had furrowed from it when it had moved a couple of inches. For a long time Willim just stared at the boulder. I felt it! I felt something when that moved! Concentrating on the boulder he willed it to move again and it did. Again he focused and this time the boulder slid across the opening. I did it!

For nearly a half an hour Willim stood staring at the boulder in front of him while listening to the soldiers coming closer. I can manipulate two elements! Soon the soldiers were searching just on the other side of the stone barrier from him. Two! As the soldiers went on past him, a tired depression seemed to set over him. I never wanted one and now I can control two! I will be more famous than ever if this gets out. Another hour crawled by as he sat there on the steps in the dark considering his options before he finally made up his mind. Complaining about set backs wouldn’t get him anywhere. Learn to accept them and move on and do the best you can. Nobody can ask for more. Willim’s mother used to quote that to him more often than he liked. Now it seemed the advice made sense though he was sure she would claim he was just growing up finally. The more he thought on it the more he realized the abilities would likely save him at times in the future. Until then it was not as if he had to tell anyone he could control even one much less two elements.

Descending back down the steps he created another ball of fire and looked over the room again. The soldiers would likely spend another day looking for him and he had nothing better to do until they left. At one corner of the room there stood a small writing table with a bottle of ink, a pen, paper, a large book and a lamp. Using his first ability, Willim lit the lamp before he even reached the table then sat down to look at the book. Turning over the cover the first thing he found was a single sheet of loose paper and he turned it over to read the writing.

I am sorry! I just do not believe I am the one they thought I was. I could not go through with the sacrifice for I do not want to die. The plague may be the darkness in the prophecy but I am not He! I can only control four, spirit being the one I am without and three of the four are nearly weak enough that I may as well have no ability at all. Yet they insisted the spirit must be there and we just cannot see it. Forgive me for putting the safety of the world at risk out of fear of dying. Forgive me for what I did to my friends.

Willim read it again then turned to look at the table with the ten skeletons. “Explains what happened to the missing two swords.” Then thinking on it, another thought hit him. “You were right about the sacrifice friend. You were not him! The plague has passed a long time ago, but it doesn’t excuse you from killing your friends. Then again if they were going to kill you, you had every right.”

Turning the pages in the book, Willim skimmed through until he came to a page with a title at the top. Prophecy! His attention being thoroughly trapped he read on.

Death will come, riding on a black horse to swallow the world in his shadow. They and He of the five will bind together and the sixth will defeat the darkness.
The ten will take up swords and his blood on the blades will reveal. Each must speak the words for his fate those words will seal.
Death he will face twice. Once to avoid and once to fight. His faith in the sixth will defeat the shadow.

It made sense to Willim why they had thought the plague would be the ‘darkness’. He had heard that nearly one fifth of the population died from the plague so they must have believed Death truly was covering the world in its shadow. Reading on he became engrossed in the book as it went on to explain the ceremony and the sacrifice along with different philosophers explanations as to why there must be a sacrifice and such. A long jaw-cracking yawn forced him to pull his eyes away and he realized he must have been reading for hours. A little sleep would not hurt right then. Yet sleep would not come for a long time as he leaned back in his chair staring at the dead ten, the stone pedestals for the ceremony, the mural as well. Why would they build this one room under ground?

Startling awake, Willim was surprised he had fallen asleep. The room still stood the same way around him as when he fell asleep, the glow of the lamp giving it a warm and cozy illusion. How long have I been sleeping? Making his way drowsily up the long stone stairs he paused at the boulder blocking the opening. After a long moment waiting he was about to move the giant rock aside when a boot crunching in the dirt near by froze him. How could they still be looking for me?

“I’m telling you ‘Chapes’, he is nowhere to be found. We have been combing this hill all of last night and now most of the day and he just isn’t here.” A small crevice near the bottom of the boulder allowed Willim to peak out with a very limited view. Neither the speaker nor Chapes was in view.

“Well the ground is flat for miles around this hill Sokoris. He has to be here somewhere!”

The top of a helmet appeared in Willim’s view as someone else climbed upwards towards the other two soldiers. When the head came in view, Willim was surprised to see it was Ramos. The shock of seeing his friend in armor was enough to give him just enough of a pause before pulling away from the opening and Ramos’s eyes met his. He wouldn’t give me away would he? Immediately he felt shame for even allowing the question to make its way into his thoughts. Ramos had been his best friend for years. There was nobody he would trust sooner. The two stood staring at each other for a long moment.

“I’m talking to you soldier! Any signs of him?”

The rough voice of Chapes snapped Ramos’s eyes away. “I’m sorry sir. I was just lost in thought. No sir, I haven’t seen hide or hair of him. I don’t think we will either. Willim is good in the hills sir. He is also a very fast runner. As far as we know he may well have crossed that distance to those trees while we climbed up this hill.”

“Well if he got away then he got away soldier,” Chapes was saying, “but if he is hiding we will find him. Keep looking.”

Another day passed by and the soldiers still searched the hill while Willim sat in silence wishing they would leave. His mouth was feeling like it was filled with cotton and sand and with every minute the pitcher of poisoned wine on the table became more tempting. If there was any wine in it! He had never looked inside of it. With the hot sun beating on the rocks above, the room grew hot as well throughout the day and his sweat dripped from his brow as he dreamt of drinking water. Oh how sweet a little rainwater would taste right then.

The day turned to night then back to day again and he lay on the steps considering giving himself up if they would give him some water. Why don’t they just give up already? Yet they didn’t give up and he laid there thinking he would die from his parched throat before he gave himself back to Malok. Rain! I just need it to rain, is all! Just a little rain!

The air in the room suddenly began to grow humid causing him to desire the rain all the more. Then a loud crack sounded from outside and he could hear the sound of rain spattering off of the hard ground. The rain fell heavier with every minute until soon it began to puddle up near the crevice at the bottom of the boulder. A small river poured in down the steps and Willim could only stare at it for a long time before scooping some up to drink. As soon as the water went into his mouth he spit it out for it had so much dirt mixed in with it. Running down the steps he grabbed an empty mug from in front of one of the skeletons and ran back up the steps two at a time. Manipulating earth to move the boulder aside just enough Willim reached the cup out and rinsed it out several times before finally letting it fill to drink. Cleaning out three more cups he let them fill with rainwater as well before the rain stopped. Making his way back down he sat in the chair and closed his eyes. Water! He had felt himself draw the rain clouds to him. Fire, Earth and now Water! Three elements! This time it did not upset him so much as he gratefully sipped the fresh water in the mug.

Continue to .... Maroz 12 - A City Lost