enemy, the only things standing between us and freedom. In my heart I knew that Cirrosa would not hold true to his word, but we had no choice. We would have all surely died if it had not been for you, and for that we are grateful. Those who died attacking you died with honor, and we begrudge you not for it.”
Whill did not know what to say, though he knew the man was sincere and he understood that he and Abram had had no choice in what they’d done. Still, he felt a deep guilt that he was sure he would never really be washed clean of. He himself had never known his father, and now he had killed the fathers of many children. They had been good men, forced to fight. The thought of it all made Whill sick to his stomach. Hoping not to be thought rude, he excused himself from the eating circle and joined Tarren at the wheel.
“Hello, Master Whill, did dinner do you some good?” He wore the same wide smile with which he always regarded Whill.
“I’m no longer hungry, but I couldn’t feel worse.” He looked solemnly out over the waters. “Tarren, what do you remember of what happened on that ship? I mean, when I…when I helped you?”
Tarren’s face scrunched up in thought. “I remember pain, and falling. Then I saw nothing but blackness. Then your voice-you were angry-and a blue light.” His eyes were wide, and a new excitement entered his voice and demeanor.
“And then I felt the strangest thing I’ve ever felt in my life, or call me a liar. It was like when you know it’s your birthday soon and you can’t wait, or when you’ve eaten way too much candy. Inside you feel like you might explode. It was like being in the center of a screaming crowd, but all of their excitement is inside your body. I felt no pain, and before I knew what had happened, your friend picked me up and told me to hide below.” He looked upon Whill with puzzlement and wonder. “How did you do it, Whill?
He put a hand atop the boy’s head. “I don’t know, Tarren. I don’t know.”
CHAPTER TEN
The night was cool, the ocean calm. The stars shone brightly in the heavens, untouchable diamonds of the night. To Whill it seemed that the ocean mocked the night sky, reflecting the stars with the same brilliance, but also making them dance and shimmer in a way that the sky never could. He stood at the bow, entranced, hands on the rail, mind drifting with the midnight sea. He was tired but not hungry. He needed rest but could not sleep, not among those he felt he had wronged. Though he had been aboard the ship for three days now, he felt as though he had walked for weeks. His legs, back, arms, and even his mind ached. He knew he had not fully recovered, and was not sure how soon he would. Yet contemplating the length of time it would have taken Tarren to heal from his broken bones, Whill wondered how he himself had recovered so soon. Had the elf woman been real? Had she helped him along with some kind of magic, an energy healing of her own? Surely that was absurd, for they were hundreds of miles from Elladrindellia. She had been a dream figure and nothing more. But the more Whill thought of her, the more real she seemed. The way her hair hung low, her beautiful smile, her eyes….
Whill jumped back, startled, as Abram put his hand upon his shoulder, jerking him back to reality and the cool night air.
“Sorry, Whill, I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you alright?”
Whill let out a deep breath and gave Abram a weak smile. “I’m fine. I was just thinking.”
Abram gave him a pitying look. “Thinking of the Eldonian men? Whill, don’t beat yourself up, we had no choice in the-”
“No. Not about that. I was thinking of the elf woman I dreamed about last night.”
Abram looked puzzled. “What elf woman?”
Whill told him all about the dream in detail as Abram listened keenly. At the end of the story, Abram gave him a slight frown of puzzlement. “What was it she said to you?”
Whill thought for a moment. “
Abram regarded him, straight-faced. “It very well could have been real, Whill.”
Whill’s face lit up. To hear it from Abram gave the idea substance; made it seem like a real possibility.
“Elves have many powers that people do not and will never understand,” Abram said. “It is quite possible that what you experienced was indeed real. She may have helped you to heal in much the way you helped Tarren. If nothing else, your fast recovery may be proof of it.”
Whill was baffled. “But I know her not. I have never even met an elf. Who was she, and why would she help me?”
Abram looked at him the same way he always did when Whill asked this kind of question-Whill knew he held the answers, and also knew that he would not tell him. He looked at Abram with disappointment. “Let me guess: in the mountain.”
Abram sighed. “I am as tired of these secrets as you are. From your description I can only guess that she was one of Queen Araveal’s daughters. Which one I do not know, for they are all similar in appearance.”
Whill was not shocked to hear this; more so he was relieved to hear an explanation at all. “So this woman- princess-she knows me?”
“She does, as does the queen. Why she does is part of a tale I wish to tell you elsewhere. It will be less than a week before we reach Dy’Kore. Be patient, my friend.”
Whill laughed a tired laugh. “I’ve waited nineteen years what’s another few days?”
Tarren sounded a small bell mounted above the wheel. “The island, I see it!”
Abram took over the wheel as the Eldonians hurried onto the deck from below. Whill watched as the island drew closer. Even now, at night, he could see the vast beach and forest beyond. Abram steered them into the Eldon Pass, a waterway between the island and Eldalon. They sailed with the island to starboard for more than an hour and well into dawn. As the sun began to rise, the city of Do’Adore became visible. As they approached a large dock, where there was a fleet of small fishing boats, a great horn sounded from the trees, answered by another from within the city. Abram masterfully steered the ship gently to the dock, and an Eldonian man secured a line.
The city was not like any Whill had ever seen. It had no great buildings, and no barrier separating it from the surrounding land. It consisted of thousands of large huts, each with smoke coming from small chimneys. The huts were identical, though some were larger than others. This, Whill had learned while listening to the Eldonian men speak of their village, was only due to the size of each family living within. Social status was not reflected in the size of one’s home, or in the things one might own. Each person had a purpose, and each purpose was vital to the survival of the people. Whill wondered why more people didn’t live in this manner. While others fought viciously over things they did not need and in the end brought them no lasting joy, the Eldonians lived in harmony with their surroundings and each other, celebrating and sharing in good fortune, and mourning each other’s losses.
As the former slaves went down the ramp and onto the beaches, they were greeted by their kin. Sobbing and laughing jubilantly, they hugged, kissed, and held their families and friends who had thought them lost at sea.
Whill was reluctant to leave the ship, his guilt still weighing heavily on his heart. Abram came over to him. “Look, Whill, at the joy we have brought to so many people. If not for our actions, these people would never have returned. They would have died along with those other men. Don’t you see the good that has come from something so terrible? Those men would have died anyway, or been worked to death by Cirrosa and his men. If you would not have won that tournament, Cirrosa wouldn’t have pursued us. And these people would not have had a second chance at the life they love so. Everything happens for a reason, Whill. Take comfort in the joy you see before you.”
Whill knew Abram was right, and he told him so. Together with Tarren, they made their way onto the beach and were introduced by the Eldonians as the great saviors of the sea. Blushing and feeling very uncomfortable,
