Raulin's Oath

Present Day

Arietta woke from her nap with a fit of coughing. Tears welled in her eyes, which were burning, and her face felt flushed. Smoke filled her nostrils and she reached to wipe the tears streaming down her face. She lunged out of her recliner, and when her feet touched the floor, a sharp pain exploded from her hip, both taking her breath and causing her to collapse. She tried to lie perfectly still, hoping the pain would subside. Arietta brought her hand to her head causing something to brush across the floor. A handful of grain stalks topped with feathery seeds littered her family room floor.

Arietta let out a moan as her body was wracked with another explosion of pain from her hip. Falling had definitely not helped her situation. She needed to focus and decided that she would worry about how she brought grasses back from her dream later.

The kitchen counter. Cooper barked at her, licking her face. He was incredibly concerned. She tried to move her legs, tried to stand, but she could not. She pulled herself across the rug that covered the wood floors and onto the cream tile of her kitchen. She was lucky it hadn’t been farther.

She whined, arm pawing at the counter, and knocked off the phone onto the floor. How had she let it get this bad? When had it gotten this bad? First it was her hip; nothing impossible to deal with, she just would pop a couple aspirins and go to sleep. When her other extremities began to ache, she blamed it on the transition from the milder summer to a hot and arid, unforgiving heat that the land had been experiencing.

She punched in the buttons, each taking too much effort. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her hands. She mentally criticized herself for the reaction; she’d been through much worse, after all.

“911, what is your emergency?” a polite woman asked on the other end of the line.

“I’m in excruciating pain.” Her voice was uneven, but who would blame her?

“Okay, it’s going to be alright. Now, where are you?” Arietta told the kind lady her address. “Help is on the way. What’s your name, ma’am?”

“Arietta,” she replied, trying not to make the fact that she was crying evident.

“Okay, Arietta, everything will be alright. My name is Sarah. Will you tell me what happened?” Arietta pictured the woman with a neat, professional bob, but with kind eyes.

“I’ve had pain in my hip for a few months now. It progressively got— it got worse. I just ignored it, though, gave myself a couple aspirin and would walk it off. Soon, the pain was everywhere. I thought that it would go away; had I known it would get like this, I would’ve made an appointment much earlier.”

“I’m sure,” the lady said comfortingly.

“I woke up and could barely move, barely breathe. It--it feels how it felt as a girl. I had juvenile arthritis. This isn’t quite as severe, as for the most part when I was a girl I had been nearly paralyzed with the pain, but this is up there,” she groaned.

“They’ll be there in twenty minutes tops,” the lady said politely, and Arietta wanted to cry at this. Twenty whole minutes until anyone would help her. She wondered if she would pass out from it before they arrived. “So, Arietta, tell me about… tell me about your family.” Arietta grimaced, but obliged. Anything to distract herself. Cooper lay next to her, both sprawled out on the tile.

“Well, my husband’s name is Joe… was Joe,” she corrected herself, something she still wasn’t used to. “Joey was a good man. I miss him with all of my heart. He passed away a few years ago; no need for apologies though. I was lucky to have him. He was the love of my life. We had two kids, two little boys. They are all grown up with families of their own. Grayson and Levi. Love them to death, wish they would call more. Of course, my third baby is Cooper, he’s my dog.” She caught herself rambling and interrupted her thoughts. “What about you, Sarah? You have a family?”

“I have a husband and a little girl. Tom is a wonderful man, and Maggie is my world.” Sarah kept it short and simple. “How about hobbies, you have any of those?”

“I write. It’s not really a hobby, since it’s my way of making a living, but--”

Sarah interrupted her. “You aren’t the Arietta, are you? You wrote all the fantasy and horror novels?”

Arietta smiled through her pain at this. “Yes, that would be me,” she forced out, trying to move as little as possible.

“Wow, I--I can’t--”

Arietta heard a hushed whisper across the line, informing a nearby coworker that she was on the line with her favorite author.

“Sorry. Anywho, tell me about your other hobbies and about your writing,” she offered.

“I mostly just write. I have a little flower garden outside as well. Writing takes up the majority of the day, but I like movies too, and of course I love to read as well.”

Sarah sighed dreamily at this, but Arietta did not hear. The ambulance arrived early, red lights flashing and casting eerie shadows through her house. “Oh, they’re here.”

Sarah told her goodbye and that she hoped she felt better soon. The slight disappointment shone in the woman’s tone at ending the conversation so soon.

She was loaded into the ambulance and whisked away into the night. Cooper was left in a dark house, confused and afraid.

***

1972

Jerry, while feeling better, was still a little shaky. He was grateful for their arrival in the city. The captain was currently docking the ship into one of the ports. The city was far less bustling than what he had expected, and the air was tainted with an oppressive taste. The streets that could be seen by the boat were empty, and in Waterhaven everything had seemed to be in motion. How was this dreary place supposed to be more alluring and energetic than Waterhaven? How was this supposed to be the largest trading center in the world? This place was pathetic. A sickness weighed down the streets, a beast unseen but lurking within the city’s heart.

Gustoff was disturbed as well, to say the very least. He knew this center like the back of his hand, and there was something deeply wrong here. His wrinkle-creased face twisted into a look of concern, grasping Arietta’s hand protectively. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her this time. The solid ground felt wonderful to stand on, and while something might have seemed off, Gustoff still allowed himself to relax. They were so close to escaping and getting back to Earth. He smiled at the seashells and pearls embedded into the walking paths that sparkled in the sunshine. To his left, a child with emerald green eyes was watching the trio, then snapped the blinds of the cottage windows shut. She would feed tonight.

Gustoff led the trio to the nearest inn to get a bite to eat. Navigating through the winding streets, Arietta’s grip on her grandfather’s hand tightened. “This place is off; I don’t trust it.” Gustoff nodded to her and pointed to the next street corner.

“The Fishermen’s Port is down Ocean’s Passage. We should be able to get some information there.” Daylight was fading as the sun gently settled into the horizon. Gustoff was ravenous, so he knew that the children would be very hungry as well. Once they ate, he would be able to get the information that he needed. Finding Arkas was his number one priority, but he would also inquire as to why Belamoris looked like a ghost town. Gustoff pointed out the sign with a picture of a large ship with the words Fishermen’s Port written in large white letters.

As they entered the inn, a wonderful smell permeated the air and Arietta’s stomach roared in anticipation. She didn’t realize how hungry she was. The great room was mostly empty, with only a few tables seated with patrons. A hush fell over the room as the three entered. A plump lady with thick brown hair tied in a bun scurried from behind the counter to welcome them. Stray strands escaped her bun and outlined her rosy cheeks as she introduced herself to the travelers. “Hi, welcome to the Fishermen’s Port. I’ll be taking care of you today.” Her voice was pleasant enough but seemed weary.

The three were seated and brought potatoes and eggs. As they devoured their meal, Gustoff signaled the tired woman over to the table. “I couldn’t help but notice that the city seems rather empty. The last time that I was here, the streets were full, as was the Fisherman.”

Her eyes fell as she spoke in a hushed tone. “Some say that a curse has fallen over Belamoris. I fear that it is some sort of plague. Many have fallen ill and stay in bed through the working hours. The city feels like a ghost town. Some shipments have remained in the docks for two or three days, as we don’t have enough able-bodied workers to unload them. Some of the younger families have packed up and left for fear that they will fall ill.”

Gustoff sat in a pensive silence, and he swallowed thickly before he spoke. “How long has it been like this?”

The kind waitress answered, “Not long, maybe a week. I have never seen an illness sweep through the city this fast. I fear that there is dark magic at its roots. I would leave myself, but all I have is here.”

“Do you know an old man named Arkas? I would visit him in my younger years.”

The woman tilted her head to the side in thought for a moment. Her eyes sparkled at the old man’s name. “Are you referring to the Wizard of the Wharf?”

“Aye, that is ole’ Arkas. Do you know where I can find him?”

“He has a small shop on the north side of town. I can’t remember the name, but it is the only shop that sells potions in all of Belamoris. If you take Ocean’s Passage to the next street and turn north, it should put you in the vicinity of his shop. I think that the street is called the Northern Way. We are not very imaginative with our street names,” she said with a wink.

Gustoff thanked her and paid for their meals. The three left the Fisherman and headed up Northern Way. The sun had completely sunk into the horizon as dusk had fallen over the city. An uneasy feeling sent a shiver down Gustoff’s spine. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he stopped the group. Gustoff whispered under his breath, “By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.”

“Is that… Is your grandpa quoting Shakespeare?” Jerry asked.

Gustoff completely ignored the boy, ensnared in a trance.

“He’s a reader, so probably,” Arietta said warily, and though Jerry’s voice held amusement, she couldn’t muster such courage. Gustoff scanned the street, then began looking at the buildings lining the walkways. Shadows danced in his peripheral vision, yet when he turned, there was nothing.

“We need to get moving.” At Gustoff’s words, Arietta could’ve sworn his flowing beard transformed whiter than before.

A coldness embraced Arietta, and an ominous feeling pressed into her core. Movement flitted in the corner of her eyes, but the streets were empty; they were quiet as death. Something was out there, watching them. They picked up their pace from a brisk walk to a jog. A growl rumbled from the south, and Arietta’s heart dropped. Frantically, they searched for the potion shop, the “Wizard of the Wharf,” moving like shadows in the night. That was when everything went horribly wrong.

As they ran, Jerry’s eyes kept searching for the movement that he was missing. He held Arietta’s hand as they sprinted north. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Time slowed, and when he opened his eyes, he could see into the shadows. From windows in the dark alleys, perversions of the city dwellers crawled toward the ground, spilling and falling as though they had no sense of self preservation. They were everywhere.

Emerald green eyes glowed hauntingly in the night, gathering and waiting for something… something to consume. Hungry eyes that watched the three running, preparing to strike. Their nostrils flared, inhaling the raw power that distinguished the group. A great darkness swelled over the town; suddenly the milky glow of the moon was missing, as if the night had been swallowed into a great void. None of the twinkling stars, no moonlit streets, only darkness. Arietta raised her eyes to the heavens, seeing a great, deep purple dragon swooping, its mouth opening in an eardrum-shattering roar. A great light from the depths within the dragon swelled, fire spurting forth and pouring from beneath its dagger-like fangs.

Buildings on both sides of the street erupted in flames. She could see their eyes glowing emerald green with fury. This had been planned carefully, Gustoff realized; for as the buildings burned, those who were left unturned flocked straight to the danger of the Shadow Walkers, the horrible creatures of darkness. Fire and blood, blood and fire was all to be seen--that was all Arietta could register, anyway. It made her head dizzy, made her feel as though the world beneath her strayed. She was screaming, choking on the smoke, and her feet and legs were splattered in blood. Was this hell? Was this what bad guys feared for their afterlife? An eternity of blood and fire? Jerry was her tether to reality, though; he held her hand, tugged her from her mind, from the fire and blood, and brought her to the streets. One foot in front of the next, picking them up and putting them down. “You’re okay.” He said the words like a prayer, and she wasn’t sure if they were targeted at her or himself. Either way, she drew strength from them.

The raining fire lit up the ebony sky, and Arietta could just make out two figures flying high in the darkness. The city was a torch in the night; the dragon flames spread quickly and wildly, like an intrusive weed. Arietta feared that if they found Arkas, his shop would be burned to a crisp. She needed to do something to give them more time. As she ran, she focused her thoughts and began to sing. “Rain in my heart, wash away my pain. Rhythm coursing round me, let it drown, let it surround me, let it pour.” The sky opened up with a torrential downpour. The once-bright flames began to smolder as the fire subsided. The song was ethereal, weaving magic through the nightmarish cityscape.

Lucius roared in dismay as a violent rain pounded the streets. The skies were clear only moments ago. The rain smelled of magic! The Chosen had arrived in Belamoris. No matter, this town was his anyway. The city had fallen, and his army would slaughter whoever remained, including the Chosen. Lucius was a two-birds-with-one-stone type of guy.

Hestia felt whole again as she continued doing what she did best. She had engulfed the entire south end of the island in flame and was making her way to the north when it had begun to rain. No matter, the rain will only slow the burning. She smiled as Lucius’s army swept into the streets as her flame destroyed the buildings. There would be no survivors. The rage that had built over her years of captivity finally had an outlet. Satisfaction that could only be attained through vengeance coursed through her veins. The people of Palidonaya would feel her wrath. The debt owed to her for being caged would be paid in full. They would all burn.

The rain meant nothing to her. Her fire quickly turned the water to steam and buildings to dust. She flew with a purpose. The city would be turned to ash, then rebuilt in the image of Draconis. A great rebirth. Her terrible roar filled the night as she laid waste to Belamoris.