Gabriella tossed and turned in her sleep as the sun rose in the distance. Mel brought up her book and placed it on her knees. She hadn’t been able to finish it last night, and she had waited all morning for the sun to come up. To shine in through her window and cast a meager ray of sunlight on her bed.
She waited patiently for the sun to reach her and kept staring down at the dark pages, thinking about where the story had ended last night. Alexander Etrope, the mage smith, had just finished his studies at Falden. He had been sent on a mission out into the wastelands to search through the ruins beyond the walls of Aldrion. People believed things could have been hidden there, forgotten from the world, and some believed it was worth risking the lives of elemental warriors and now a mage smith.
This book, his memoir, had turned out to be so much more than Mel had expected. It had intrigue, politics, and adventure written into the pages. She had thought the book was going to be filled with dusty notes from some old guy, explaining how some obscure piece of smithing worked. But oh no, she had been wrong. Alexander Etrope had been a hero.
The morning's first rays found their way in through her window and one single piece of light reached the page of her book. Mel angled her body to grab as much light as she could and continued reading where she had left off.
It was a tale unlike any she had ever heard before. Alexander had kept a diary of his travels in the wasteland and some of it he had included in the memoir. The lines felt hasty and like he hadn’t wanted to waste a single word. They were short but detailed.
Day 2: They are hostile toward me, toward us. But I saw them last night. They snuck out under the cover of darkness. Out from the village. They kneeled in front of the black sky, eyes up toward the heavens, but their God isn’t up there. Mine is. They covered their faces in blood. From where it came, I do not know.
Day 5: It was in dirt and water we found him. A blackened boy with ash in his mouth, he wasn’t young but neither old. We thought he came from the village, but the people in the village cursed him. Said he was evil, he was destruction. I couldn’t leave him, not alone out there. I asked him for secrets. He told me one.
Day 8: We’re returning now. I do not want to speak about what happened after I found the boy. About the dead I leave behind, my brothers, my sisters, the others. Do you hate me now?
Home: The beasts are coming, the shadows lurk. There is a tremble in the stone, dust in the wind and a storm brewing in the east. The boy is with me now, my companion and friend. I cannot send him back, but his secret burns a hole in my heart. Did he bring destruction with him? Were the village people right? Have I cursed us all?
It ended there, the chapter about his travels. This was his big adventure, the one of Alexander Etrope’s life. The last chapter was more of an epilogue, something he had written in old age. No longer a youth. The last passage made Mel stumble on the words. It made her rewind and read it all again.
The dragon forge burns in the night. An ember glow from the top of the mountain. I look out over the wastelands. I see the army gathering in the east. The shadow and darkness are coming. It’s coming for us. My students hammer away, day and night, creating weapons to keep us alive. Imbuing magic into metal, like the old taught us.
He is here, my friend, my most promising student. He bangs his hammer against metal like his ancestors once did. He is my brightest, the one who could change it all. But his dreams are not those. It’s with a heavy heart that I tell this story, the story of my life. Next to me, Rowad Hellius’ story begins.
#
In class, Mel felt sort of dazed, looking out through the window and not watching Professor Monroe. She was writing something on the blackboard in colored chalk, as always, but Mel felt far away. She was thinking of Alexander Etrope and of Rowad Hellius, her great grandfather. She was thinking about her father and the fact that she hadn’t written to him or anyone else in Windbrook since she came here.
Should she write?
Mel didn’t know. She didn’t want to lie in a letter to them, saying that everything was going splendidly. That she had passed her test because she was just that good. That she had made friends with everyone in her class. It wasn’t true. Only Gabs and maybe Austin, on his good days, could be considered Mel’s friends.
And also she didn’t want to write and tell them how far behind she was, about her cheating on the test and about how lonely she sometimes felt. About how a book from a man who was already dead had stoked her loneliness away. But that it had ended too quickly and left her with questions she didn’t want to consider.
“The church of the sun is widely known, but today we are going to discuss the other minority religions, at least some of them,” Professor Monroe said. “I know many of you will sigh and ask; why do we have to learn about religion in history class? And I know it won’t be a big section of the test, but it is one of my favorite topics and I want to instill some of that passion in you. So please, humor me.”
Mel turned her gaze away from the window and regarded Professor Monroe with a faraway gaze. The professor paced the classroom and licked her lips.
“Let’s start with the wastes. Who can tell me what religion is dominant among the people of the wasteland?”
A couple of hands rose in the air, and Professor Monroe pointed to someone to speak.
“Dean,” he said. “It’s some strange religion that prays to the darkness. They are allied with the beasts and the void. They are traitors.”
“Yes,” Professor Monroe said. “That is one speculation. Do we have any other?”
Hands were lowered around the classroom, but a few remained, and Mel felt herself perk up.
“Gabriella. I heard the people of the wastes worship ore. They find some reverence in metal and smithing, and seem to think it’s divine.”
“Interesting,” Professor Monroe said. “It is one of the more rare interpretations of their religion. But one that is fascinating. More?”
“Austin. We don’t know what the people of the wastes worship. It has been speculated and guessed at for centuries. But the fact is that we have lost that knowledge and the people of the wastes do not want to enlighten us in this.”
Professor Monroe sat down on top of her desk and stared for a moment at Austin. So did the rest of the class, and Mel stared at his face as well. It was stony and cold, very matter of fact.
“Yes, Austin, that is true,” Professor Monroe said. “The only thing we have, sadly, are speculations. The people of the wastes don’t like us and don't want to tell us. We can only guess.”
Professor Monroe walked around the desk and back to the blackboard.
“But what we have concluded over the years of speculation is that there must be several beliefs and religions in the wastes. We know that once there were cities out there. Once there were thousands of people living in the lands beyond the mountains. They must have had several religions, believed by different people.”
She turned toward the class.
“The closest ruin to Aldrion is the city of Bahlan. A dangerous place that always seems to be haunted by shadows. From the expeditions there, we know the people of Bahlan believed in something resembling what Gabriella said. They worshiped ore and metal. They were smiths and we believe they were one of the wealthiest cities beyond the mountain. There are probably many secrets still hidden down there and across the rest of the wastelands. But sadly, we will not recover them. It is deemed too dangerous now to traverse the wastes looking for history. The last expeditions out there ended a long time ago. Now only elemental warriors and soldiers head out beyond the wall.”
“But from what we have gathered from the expeditions, the wasteland is vast. Beyond the wall many people still live, roaming the land as nomads mostly. The once great cities like Bahlan, Doredaai and Krazaa are uninhabited for reasons we do not know. It is speculated though to have with the void not wanting the people of the wastes to congregate in large numbers. But it hasn’t been confirmed.”
A frown spread over Professor Monroe’s face, and she cleared her throat.
“Well, we do have other minority religions in the lands, some that we know more about. For example, the dragon cult.”
Mel’s back stiffened, and she felt her heart pumping inside her chest.
“Melissa, why don’t you tell us a little about your religion? We rarely have the opportunity to hear from someone who is a part of the dragon cult.”
The class turned to Mel and their eyes dug into her skin. She took a deep breath and sighed, helplessly.
“Well, you know, it’s not much to tell. We believe in the dragons and hope they will come back and save the world. You know, the usual.”
Professor Monroe lifted one eyebrow at Mel. “Yes, please tell us more.”
Mel sunk back into her chair and glanced over at Austin. He was watching her, expecting her to tell him, just like the rest of the class.
“Unlike the church of the sun, we believe the dragons were, in fact, scaly flying creatures who saved the day. We believe they will come back to us and destroy the beasts and the void or whatever is out there in the wastes. Each and everyone in the dragon cult receives a destiny during their sixteenth birthday, one they have to fulfill during their lifetime. It’s sort of the center of our religion.”
“Oh, and we have sermons in the chapel, just like the one we went to yesterday in the church of the sun. But we don’t drink from a cup or anything. Just sit and listen to the High Priest speak for a while and try not to fall asleep. We also have festivals, like when we light a bonfire on Spring Equinox or when someone departs with a great destiny, we have a fire ritual. Yup, that’s pretty much it. Nothing special.”
“Wow, that sounds fascinating,” Professor Monroe said. “I truly wish I could join one of your festivals in the future. Perhaps I will get to travel to the valley and visit sometime. But please, tell us, did you get a fire ritual when you left Windbrook? And what is your destiny, Melissa?”
Mel swallowed hard. She had said too much. Now they knew she had a destiny, that she was important.
Austin kept staring at her, and so did the rest of the class and Professor Monroe. All expecting her to tell them the truth, but Mel didn’t want that. She didn’t want them to know.
“Yeah, sure,” Mel said. “There was a fire ritual, the lighting of some candles, nothing too special or anything. And you know, my destiny is just to go here to Aldrion and… find some things.”
“Find some things?” Professor Monroe asked. “Is there anything we can help you find?”
“Oh no,” Mel said. “Thanks, but I really need to do it on my own. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be the one who fulfills my destiny.”
She smiled wide, too wide. The professor scratched her forehead and then turned back to the blackboard. Mel released a deep sigh from her lips and the rest of the class seemed to leave her alone now. They went back to whispering or staring into the distance, like normal teenagers would do during class. All except for Austin. He kept staring at her, and Mel felt like he could see through her armor. See the real her underneath it all.
Maybe because he could understand her wanting to hide who she was. How important she was. He had said he had wanted to do the same. Hide his last name from Mel, so she wouldn’t know he was a Taveck.
Gabriella tossed and turned in her sleep as the sun rose in the distance. Mel brought up her book and placed it on her knees. She hadn’t been able to finish it last night, and she had waited all morning for the sun to come up. To shine in through her window and cast a meager ray of sunlight on her bed.
She waited patiently for the sun to reach her and kept staring down at the dark pages, thinking about where the story had ended last night. Alexander Etrope, the mage smith, had just finished his studies at Falden. He had been sent on a mission out into the wastelands to search through the ruins beyond the walls of Aldrion. People believed things could have been hidden there, forgotten from the world, and some believed it was worth risking the lives of elemental warriors and now a mage smith.
This book, his memoir, had turned out to be so much more than Mel had expected. It had intrigue, politics, and adventure written into the pages. She had thought the book was going to be filled with dusty notes from some old guy, explaining how some obscure piece of smithing worked. But oh no, she had been wrong. Alexander Etrope had been a hero.
The morning's first rays found their way in through her window and one single piece of light reached the page of her book. Mel angled her body to grab as much light as she could and continued reading where she had left off.
It was a tale unlike any she had ever heard before. Alexander had kept a diary of his travels in the wasteland and some of it he had included in the memoir. The lines felt hasty and like he hadn’t wanted to waste a single word. They were short but detailed.
Day 2: They are hostile toward me, toward us. But I saw them last night. They snuck out under the cover of darkness. Out from the village. They kneeled in front of the black sky, eyes up toward the heavens, but their God isn’t up there. Mine is. They covered their faces in blood. From where it came, I do not know.
Day 5: It was in dirt and water we found him. A blackened boy with ash in his mouth, he wasn’t young but neither old. We thought he came from the village, but the people in the village cursed him. Said he was evil, he was destruction. I couldn’t leave him, not alone out there. I asked him for secrets. He told me one.
Day 8: We’re returning now. I do not want to speak about what happened after I found the boy. About the dead I leave behind, my brothers, my sisters, the others. Do you hate me now?
Home: The beasts are coming, the shadows lurk. There is a tremble in the stone, dust in the wind and a storm brewing in the east. The boy is with me now, my companion and friend. I cannot send him back, but his secret burns a hole in my heart. Did he bring destruction with him? Were the village people right? Have I cursed us all?
It ended there, the chapter about his travels. This was his big adventure, the one of Alexander Etrope’s life. The last chapter was more of an epilogue, something he had written in old age. No longer a youth. The last passage made Mel stumble on the words. It made her rewind and read it all again.
The dragon forge burns in the night. An ember glow from the top of the mountain. I look out over the wastelands. I see the army gathering in the east. The shadow and darkness are coming. It’s coming for us. My students hammer away, day and night, creating weapons to keep us alive. Imbuing magic into metal, like the old taught us.
He is here, my friend, my most promising student. He bangs his hammer against metal like his ancestors once did. He is my brightest, the one who could change it all. But his dreams are not those. It’s with a heavy heart that I tell this story, the story of my life. Next to me, Rowad Hellius’ story begins.
#
In class, Mel felt sort of dazed, looking out through the window and not watching Professor Monroe. She was writing something on the blackboard in colored chalk, as always, but Mel felt far away. She was thinking of Alexander Etrope and of Rowad Hellius, her great grandfather. She was thinking about her father and the fact that she hadn’t written to him or anyone else in Windbrook since she came here.
Should she write?
Mel didn’t know. She didn’t want to lie in a letter to them, saying that everything was going splendidly. That she had passed her test because she was just that good. That she had made friends with everyone in her class. It wasn’t true. Only Gabs and maybe Austin, on his good days, could be considered Mel’s friends.
And also she didn’t want to write and tell them how far behind she was, about her cheating on the test and about how lonely she sometimes felt. About how a book from a man who was already dead had stoked her loneliness away. But that it had ended too quickly and left her with questions she didn’t want to consider.
“The church of the sun is widely known, but today we are going to discuss the other minority religions, at least some of them,” Professor Monroe said. “I know many of you will sigh and ask; why do we have to learn about religion in history class? And I know it won’t be a big section of the test, but it is one of my favorite topics and I want to instill some of that passion in you. So please, humor me.”
Mel turned her gaze away from the window and regarded Professor Monroe with a faraway gaze. The professor paced the classroom and licked her lips.
“Let’s start with the wastes. Who can tell me what religion is dominant among the people of the wasteland?”
A couple of hands rose in the air, and Professor Monroe pointed to someone to speak.
“Dean,” he said. “It’s some strange religion that prays to the darkness. They are allied with the beasts and the void. They are traitors.”
“Yes,” Professor Monroe said. “That is one speculation. Do we have any other?”
Hands were lowered around the classroom, but a few remained, and Mel felt herself perk up.
“Gabriella. I heard the people of the wastes worship ore. They find some reverence in metal and smithing, and seem to think it’s divine.”
“Interesting,” Professor Monroe said. “It is one of the more rare interpretations of their religion. But one that is fascinating. More?”
“Austin. We don’t know what the people of the wastes worship. It has been speculated and guessed at for centuries. But the fact is that we have lost that knowledge and the people of the wastes do not want to enlighten us in this.”
Professor Monroe sat down on top of her desk and stared for a moment at Austin. So did the rest of the class, and Mel stared at his face as well. It was stony and cold, very matter of fact.
“Yes, Austin, that is true,” Professor Monroe said. “The only thing we have, sadly, are speculations. The people of the wastes don’t like us and don't want to tell us. We can only guess.”
Professor Monroe walked around the desk and back to the blackboard.
“But what we have concluded over the years of speculation is that there must be several beliefs and religions in the wastes. We know that once there were cities out there. Once there were thousands of people living in the lands beyond the mountains. They must have had several religions, believed by different people.”
She turned toward the class.
“The closest ruin to Aldrion is the city of Bahlan. A dangerous place that always seems to be haunted by shadows. From the expeditions there, we know the people of Bahlan believed in something resembling what Gabriella said. They worshiped ore and metal. They were smiths and we believe they were one of the wealthiest cities beyond the mountain. There are probably many secrets still hidden down there and across the rest of the wastelands. But sadly, we will not recover them. It is deemed too dangerous now to traverse the wastes looking for history. The last expeditions out there ended a long time ago. Now only elemental warriors and soldiers head out beyond the wall.”
“But from what we have gathered from the expeditions, the wasteland is vast. Beyond the wall many people still live, roaming the land as nomads mostly. The once great cities like Bahlan, Doredaai and Krazaa are uninhabited for reasons we do not know. It is speculated though to have with the void not wanting the people of the wastes to congregate in large numbers. But it hasn’t been confirmed.”
A frown spread over Professor Monroe’s face, and she cleared her throat.
“Well, we do have other minority religions in the lands, some that we know more about. For example, the dragon cult.”
Mel’s back stiffened, and she felt her heart pumping inside her chest.
“Melissa, why don’t you tell us a little about your religion? We rarely have the opportunity to hear from someone who is a part of the dragon cult.”
The class turned to Mel and their eyes dug into her skin. She took a deep breath and sighed, helplessly.
“Well, you know, it’s not much to tell. We believe in the dragons and hope they will come back and save the world. You know, the usual.”
Professor Monroe lifted one eyebrow at Mel. “Yes, please tell us more.”
Mel sunk back into her chair and glanced over at Austin. He was watching her, expecting her to tell him, just like the rest of the class.
“Unlike the church of the sun, we believe the dragons were, in fact, scaly flying creatures who saved the day. We believe they will come back to us and destroy the beasts and the void or whatever is out there in the wastes. Each and everyone in the dragon cult receives a destiny during their sixteenth birthday, one they have to fulfill during their lifetime. It’s sort of the center of our religion.”
“Oh, and we have sermons in the chapel, just like the one we went to yesterday in the church of the sun. But we don’t drink from a cup or anything. Just sit and listen to the High Priest speak for a while and try not to fall asleep. We also have festivals, like when we light a bonfire on Spring Equinox or when someone departs with a great destiny, we have a fire ritual. Yup, that’s pretty much it. Nothing special.”
“Wow, that sounds fascinating,” Professor Monroe said. “I truly wish I could join one of your festivals in the future. Perhaps I will get to travel to the valley and visit sometime. But please, tell us, did you get a fire ritual when you left Windbrook? And what is your destiny, Melissa?”
Mel swallowed hard. She had said too much. Now they knew she had a destiny, that she was important.
Austin kept staring at her, and so did the rest of the class and Professor Monroe. All expecting her to tell them the truth, but Mel didn’t want that. She didn’t want them to know.
“Yeah, sure,” Mel said. “There was a fire ritual, the lighting of some candles, nothing too special or anything. And you know, my destiny is just to go here to Aldrion and… find some things.”
“Find some things?” Professor Monroe asked. “Is there anything we can help you find?”
“Oh no,” Mel said. “Thanks, but I really need to do it on my own. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be the one who fulfills my destiny.”
She smiled wide, too wide. The professor scratched her forehead and then turned back to the blackboard. Mel released a deep sigh from her lips and the rest of the class seemed to leave her alone now. They went back to whispering or staring into the distance, like normal teenagers would do during class. All except for Austin. He kept staring at her, and Mel felt like he could see through her armor. See the real her underneath it all.
Maybe because he could understand her wanting to hide who she was. How important she was. He had said he had wanted to do the same. Hide his last name from Mel, so she wouldn’t know he was a Taveck.
