Light of Epertase 01: Legends Reborn (10 page)

Her green eyes blurred with tears. She quickly swiped her hand across her eyes, first one and then the other. With a deep breath, she seemed to ignore his question.

“I brought something else for you. I want you to think about what I say and consider my offer.” She removed a dark knitted hat, a pair of laced leather shoes, and a bag of gold and silver coins. “I want you to come back to Thasula. I want you to wear this hat and cover your straps with your furs. I will help hide you until I can convince my fath …”

Rasi pulled away, shaking his head.
I cannot come back. I will not hide in a kingdom where the people turned their backs on me. No, I will return on my own one day when I am welcomed. Or be carried when I am dead.

He could tell his words made her sad because she hesitated and stared at the ground. She searched for comfort. “Well,” she said. “I am leaving this here in case you change your mind. I can only hope that the gold and silver will aid you in some way one day.”

Rasi nodded his appreciation.
Are you hungry?
he asked.

“No. Are you?”

His stomach’s rumble answered for him even as he shook his head that he wasn’t.

“Please, do not let me stand in your way.”

He backed out of the cave and onto the path. The rain was slowing and the suns were nearly gone but he could see his prize – his cotee. It was being dragged into the brush by a lucky scavenger or two.

He walked back into the cave.
I wasn’t much hungry anyway,
he told her.

She smiled the same smile he had replayed in his head a thousand times since their first meeting. She said, “I see you have berries over there.”

Yes.

“I would love to share some with you.”

Rasi hurried to them, grabbed a bushel, and hurried back. He scanned the floor until he found his eating rock. A quick swipe of his hand cleared the dust away and he piled the berries onto it before sliding it over to her.

“Here,” she said with a fork outstretched.

Rasi smiled.

Together, the new friends talked while eating with their forks as the moon sailed across the sky. He told her about his wife and her death. She listened with the same warmness he remembered from Edonea. It was obvious that her own loss helped her understand his pain in ways most people could not. She told him about the pressures of royalty and about how much she loved her father even when he was a bit harsh. He mentally gritted his teeth at the mention of Elijah.

While they talked, his straps lay sleeping along the floor. They were as exhausted as he, though he would forego sleep for days if it meant hearing her stories for even a moment longer. He gorged on her every elegant word, only replying when necessary to keep the conversation going. But mostly he just listened. He had no more interest in telling his own stories or troubles as every word he spoke meant fewer words he could hear her say.

Before the suns broke the horizon, she whispered that she had best head back to the kingdom. He knew she was right but hated that it was true.

Her last words to him were, “I will come back, I promise.”

He wanted to tell her that she couldn’t, to protect her, to protect him, but he couldn’t bear the thought of her not returning. She brushed her hand across his arm and he closed his eyes. Her touch, however brief, was almost more than his senses could handle. She stood up. He stood next to her. He wanted to grab her arm, tell her to never leave, but he knew better. She caressed his cheek, turned and disappeared.

With Alina gone and his brutal pit of emptiness swallowing him, his stomach reminded him of its torture. It seemed the berries he ate had hardly done the trick and he laughed at how little he cared as he gathered his fishing supplies.

Maybe he should follow her. Out of sight, of course.

And that is what he did.

Today,
he thought with a smile as he climbed onto Salient’s back.
Today is a good day.

Four lonely years passed for Rasi.

The year was Matthew one thousand and twenty-four.

Four-year-old Jarret raced through the vast fields of the Great Plains, his classmates trailing behind. The ankle-high blades of now-bright-blue grass were like millions of tiny, squirmy fingers as they reached out and tugged at his feet and tickled his bare toes.

“Jarret, don’t run too far,” Alina hollered from behind. “You need to wait for the rest of the class.” But her pleas drove him faster.

“Miss Alina,” pant, pant, “I’m hunting the colorfuls,” he yelled as he peeked over his shoulder. She was getting close, which made him squeal. With his focus on his pursuer, he tripped on the uneven ground. The animated blades of grass caught him with the softness of a pillow. The grass caressed his cheeks as he giggled and rolled to his back.

Alina stood above him. He whispered, “Hi,” with an innocence only a child could possess.

“Jarret, you are clumsy,” she said and dropped to her knees beside him. She tickled his belly and ribs and he squirmed away from her.

“Miss Alina,” he said between gasps. “Stop it.”

“Not until you understand that there are no more colorfuls. They only exist in legends.”

“No, no. I can find them if I dig in the dirt,” he said. “I saw them yesterday.”

Alina tapped him on his nose with her index finger. “Sure you did,” she said. He scrunched his face like he had a deep tickle and pulled away. “I very much doubt that you found any yesterday. Or the day before. They have not been seen for many generations.”

He shook his head. “Miss Alina, why is the grass now blue? And why does it grab my toes and tickle my feet?”

“I do not know, Jarret. I have never seen the plains like this before.”

The other teachers and children plopped down around them, winded from their jog. The children rolled through the lively blades, laughing with unbridled excitement.

Miss Sarah, one of the class teachers, told everyone to gather into a circle. “Our guest today, Princess Alina,” she said, “is going to tell us a story.”

All of the children cheered.

Jarret yelled, too excited to control his volume, “Your cheeks are red like apples,” and he giggled until he feared he’d wet his drawers. The other children burst into laughter, emboldening him. He yelled, “Your face looks like a …” he paused and thought for a moment. Then with the greatest joke he’d ever conceived, blurted, “An apple tree.” He looked to the kids for approval. Now they were hysterical.

“That is enough, Jarret,” one of the teachers said. “Listening ears.”

Alina winked at him, which made him happy. She began her impromptu tale. “Well, children, today’s story is about …” She first looked into the air and then peeked at Jarret. “Colorfuls,” she blurted and he showed her his dimples.

“Can we dig for them?” he asked.

She shook her head. “We are not digging for colorfuls, Jarret. This is just a story.”

Miss Sarah tugged at the back of Jarret’s shirt and shushed him.

Alina continued, “Once upon a time there was a little boy named … Jarret.”

Jarret giggled again and puffed out his puny chest.

“Jarret lived on a farm far away. And on his magical farm, thousands of beautiful worms grew from the ground like flowers. They were spectacular worms of all the colors of a rainbow. And they were gentle. The farmer gave them to all the children in town. When they slithered on the arms of little boys and girls, they were warm and they tickled, like the grass now does. When Jarret was given his worm, he loved it greatly and took very good care of it. The Elder Three gave them a name. Colorfuls, they said.”

Jarret interrupted again, unable to control himself. “They live in the ground. We have to dig.”

He felt another pestering tug on his shirt and again heard, “Shhhhhh,” from behind.

Alina continued, “But then the Kingdom was very sad. King Thadius was angry and the people became afraid.”

Jarret’s friend Gabriel asked, “Why was King Fadus angry?”

“Well, Gabriel, no one really knows why King Thadius was angry. But Thadius had a special son who brought hope to the people. One day a great fire filled the air. And when the fire passed, the young prince was the new king and everyone was happy. That’s the day the colorfuls disappeared and haven’t been seen since.” She surveyed the children and Jarret wondered who she was looking for. “Does anyone know how we celebrate that special day?”

One of the other children shouted, “Matthew Day.”

“That’s right, the Day of Matthew the Peaceful. Do you all know what day is approaching?”

Jarret nodded, even though he really didn’t. The other kids bobbed their heads with blank stares as well. Gabriel blurted out, “Is the festival today?”

“No, Gabriel, not today, but soon.”

The story was interrupted by a rhythmic whooshing sound. The children leaned to look south past Alina and the teachers.

Miss Sarah hopped to her feet, clapping her hands. “Alright children, up, up, up. Everyone line up quickly.”

She rang a bell. Jarret hurried to line up behind her. He was always first in line and took great pride in being so. The whooshes grew louder.

Jarret hollered, “What’s that noise?”

Miss Sarah answered, “It is a pollinator, Jarret. Now hush up, we need to get moving.”

Jarret looked over his shoulder.

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.

Jarret yelled, “It’s a dragon. Run.”

Miss Sarah’s calm voice stopped the panic before it could start. “No, Jarret, it isn’t a dragon. It is a winter pollinator like we’ve talked about in class.”

As the flying creature dove toward the far edge of the Great Plains, Miss Sarah hustled the children away from its approach. While running, Jarret kept his head turned and his eyes fixed on the low-flying creature. Its clear wings were at least as large as a dragon’s, Jarret imagined.

“Keep moving, children. We don’t want you to get covered with pollen.”

“Why?” Gabriel asked.

“Because you’ll be taking mud baths for several moons just to rid the stickiness. Your parents wouldn’t be too happy with me if I let that happen, would they?”

Though she wasn’t talking to Jarret, he shook his head anyway.

As the creature glided over the grass, the whooshes were replaced by a steady rush of air like from a heavy wind. Jarret heard one of his classmates crying and turned his attention to him. Miss Sarah stopped and scooped the boy into her arms. “Don’t be scared,” she said. “They won’t hurt us.”

The class reached the edge of the plains. Everyone turned to watch.

Gabriel shouted that the creature looked like a giant mosquito. Jarret was skeptical but squinted and then agreed. The “mosquito” outstretched twelve thin, long legs that reached as far as Jarret’s house, or so it seemed.

One of the children, whose name Jarret couldn’t remember, asked, “What’s a pollfinter?”

“Pollinator,” Alina answered. “They preserve the grass so they have food during the winter.”

“They eat the grass?”

“Yes. And when the winter ends, the pollen makes the grass grow again.”

Jarret looked back at the creature, satisfied with her answer. Thick, white pus sprayed from along the undersides of its legs, coating the field in its wake.

The pollinator soared into the air again and dove for another pass. Farther down, more of the giant bugs mimicked the first until the entire field was covered as if there had been a snow. While Jarret and the other children stared, the pus soaked into the grass and then vanished, leaving not a trace.

With their work completed, the gentle beasts flew toward the clouds and then zipped out of sight. Jarret waved goodbye to them, wondering whether they waved back.

Jarret asked, “Can we play some more?”

Alina said, “You could,” and grinned. “If it wasn’t time to go back to class.”

Rasi woke from his light sleep. Like so many nights before, Alina thrashed beneath his blanketing straps. She seemed to have more night terrors as of late than ever before and not being able to help saddened him. Her sleeping voice panicked. “No, no,” she moaned. “Help! Grandma … Grandpa … No. Please … don’t be dead.”