Sky Riders: The Rising Sun

Eliana awoke sweating and trembling. She kept her eyes closed tightly, wishing herself back into the comforts of the unconscious world, but sleep would not return. As she lay there, eyes closed but fully awake, she began to realize that something was out of place.

The bed she was on was stiffer than her own; the blanket on top of her was courser. And her face was burrowed against a solid form that was giving off heat of its own. Finally, she forced her eyes to open on the realities of consciousness, and she found herself staring at a torso of pale skin.

Her face was buried in a warm, solid chest, listening to the steady beat of a familiar heart. His arm was around her, pulling her close to him, trying to still the trembling of her body. She lifted her head slowly to look at his face. All of the lines of worry that had been there before were gone, and his brow was smooth and relaxed. For a moment, all of the horrors of what she had done disappeared as she looked at his face, relishing in his proximity.

Blood was dried on his forehead and on his left shoulder, where she could see a deep line from a sword. Cautiously, she touched the skin near the wound. He twitched slightly but didn’t wake. She ran her fingertips down from his shoulder, over his pale, bare chest. She had never been this close to him before, and she absorbed it with a racing heart.

Finally, the warmth became too much for her to bear. She slowly shifted, trying to push down the blanket that covered her, to let the cool, winter air relieve the heat that seemed to pulse from every inch of her skin. She kept her eyes on Caelum’s face, praying she wouldn’t wake him.

As she tried to gently remove his arm from around her, his eyes opened. She stopped, staring at him, hoping that he would simply go back to sleep. He lifted his arm and rubbed at his eyes with one fist. Then he looked down at her. When his eyes met hers, he leapt from the bed with amazing speed, looking embarrassed.

His surprise and embarrassment passed, and he smiled in relief. “You’re awake.”

She nodded and smiled back as she pushed down the blanket and sat up. Caelum ran a hand through his rumpled blonde hair, which stuck up at odd angles from sleep. Eliana glanced around her and realized she was in one of Amiscan’s huts—Caelum’s, no doubt. She looked up at him again, trying to puzzle out why she would be here, rather than in her own quarters.

Caelum’s smile slowly slipped off of his face as he quietly asked, “Do you remember what happened?”

She swallowed and nodded slowly, her eyes on her knees. Her breeches were stained red. “Yes,” she answered, her voice barely above a whisper. “The battle… There was a man with a bow. It was aimed at you. You didn’t see him. And I killed him.”

Caelum returned to sit beside her on the bed, putting his arms around her and pulling her close to his chest. “We’re in a war, Eliana,” he said quietly. “People get killed.”

“I know,” she said with a sigh. “I just… never killed anyone before. And… he asked me… he begged me not to. But I did it anyways. I- I don’t even know why. I was just… so angry. I never thought I’d be capable of such a thing. I feel like… I don’t even know who I am anymore…”

His arms tightened and she felt his lips touch the top of her head. “I know who you are, Eliana. You are a brave, strong, proud, remarkable girl. You fought like an experienced soldier to defend our people. And yes, you killed a man, but you did it to save my life.”

“I could have spared him,” she answered. “I spared so many others in the fight. I wounded them. I didn’t kill them.”

Caelum sighed, rocking her slightly as he held her. “War brings out the worst in everyone. Even those who are so inherently good.”

She didn’t reply, his words leaving her feeling cold and empty. How could she be inherently good? She felt as if there was nothing good inside of her. She had killed someone who was injured, weaponless, on his knees before her.

And then it struck her. “I know why I did it…” she said quietly.

Caelum looked down at her. “What?”

“Why I killed him… Because I knew that… that they would have done it to me…”

“They? Who? The soldiers?”

She shook her head. “No. The humans. The villagers, back in Vegrandis. They once beat me so badly that Otium thought I wouldn’t recover. I was thirteen. I was on my knees in front of them too… already injured and bleeding at their hands. I had no weapon. I begged them to leave me alone, to spare me. And they beat me. They beat me and left me for dead. And when I saw that man kneeling in front of me, begging as I had begged… I was… angry, hateful. I had not been spared, so why should I spare him? I hated him for being human… and so I killed him.”

Caelum was silent for a long moment, taking in her words.

She turned her face into his shoulder. “Perhaps I am a monster,” she breathed into his neck.

He pulled back, holding her out from him so that he could looked down into her eyes. “No,” he said firmly. “Eliana, what happened to you… It left its mark. It would leave its mark on anyone.”

“But that man—.”

“He was innocent,” he finished for her. “I know that. I am not trying to say he was not. He was a soldier, following orders, just like any elf here. But what you did, you did in the heat of battle. Perhaps there was another way. Perhaps you did act with anger in your heart. But that doesn’t define who you are, Eliana.” He put a hand on her cheek. “I believe that you are good in your heart. You have shown that to me again and again. One act of hatred, no matter whether you believe it was inexcusable or not, does not erase all of the goodness in your heart.”

A tear slid down Eliana’s dirt-smeared cheek, and Caelum gently brushed it aside. He saw more in her than she could ever believe was there. But she wanted it to be true. She wanted to be everything he believed her to be. She wanted to be worthy of the words he spoke. But how? How could she end a war that was fueled by hate when she was so full of hate herself?

He sighed and shook his head. “I hate seeing you like this, Eliana. I can’t help but think that… if you had just stayed in the cave…” She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off. “I know what you’re going to say, and you’re right. I was wrong to try to keep you away from the battle. Your presence likely saved many elves’ lives, including my own, and you proved that you are more than capable of defending yourself.”

She managed a small smile in reply, and he returned the expression as his thumb grazed her cheek.

“Don’t think that means I’m going to stop protecting you,” he added. “I’m going to keep doing everything it takes to keep you safe.”

“Just don’t lock me in a cave again.”

He nodded. “Agreed.”

Eliana glanced around her again, trying to force her thoughts about the human soldier aside. “Why am I here and not in my own quarters?” she asked.

He shook his head slowly. “You had a fever, and you were trembling badly. Everyone was too tired to reopen the hillside for me to carry you to your quarters, and I didn’t think it would be safe for you to try to fly back in on Oriens. He gave me permission to bring you here, so that I could watch over you.”

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Several hours.” He glanced out of the hut’s small window. “The sun is setting.”

She sighed and returned her gaze to his bloodied shoulder and forehead. “You should probably clean yourself up,” she remarked.

Caelum looked down at his shoulder. “I’d forgotten about that.”

She watched him as he went to the washbasin and drew water from the hot springs far below. He dipped a cloth into the steaming water and wiped the blood from his shoulder and forehead. Then, placing his hand over each of the wounds, he Healed himself, and his skin was once again perfectly smooth.

He rinsed the blood from the cloth, then wetted it again, wringing it slightly before turning towards where she sat on the edge of the bed. “You still have blood on you,” he said quietly.

Eliana slowly raised her hand to her neck and touched the dry, cracking blood there—the blood of the man she’d killed. She felt her stomach turn slightly and she felt the urge to vomit again. But then Caelum was gently removing her Rider’s jacket, distracting her.

She looked up into his blue eyes as he carefully pushed the tunic off her shoulder, exposing her bloodstained skin. He appeared very intent on his work, and she watched as the warm, wet cloth slowly removed the stains of her sins.

She breathed slowly and closed her eyes as his hand touched her cheek, making her tilt her head to the side so that he could clean the blood from her neck. She pressed her cheek into his palm. Everything will be okay, she told herself. I can make it okay…

Caelum’s hands left her skin, and she opened her eyes. He’d turned his back towards her, washing the cloth out in the basin. His task was finished.

“Someone should have opened the hillside now,” he said. “You should go see Oriens. I’m sure he’s worried about you.”

It was a clear and simple dismissal. Eliana stared at him for a moment, wondering again at his sudden shift from tenderness to indifference. Then she stood, straightening her tunic, and pulled on her black jacket. Without a word to his bare back, she stepped out of the hut and into the winter’s chill. Figures moved solemnly around her, cleaning up after the battle. Prone bodies were being lifted from the ground and carried away in silence.

She looked away from the bodies to the ground at her feet. The snow was stained red with blood. There was no indication of whether it was the blood of elf or human. We all bleed red… she thought to herself. All of this hate, this anger, this killing, but in the end, all of the blood that was spilled was the same dark red. The blood she had spilt would not look any different than her own.

She tore her eyes away from the ground and ran, sprinting towards the hill at the center of the village. The cave had been reopened, and she ran down the long corridor to the room beneath the mountain. Oriens was already in her mind, humming happily at her consciousness, but not speaking.

When she reached the room, he was there, lying with his head towards the corridor, clearly waiting for her. She ran straight to him and pressed herself against the rumbling warmth of his chest. He bent his neck and pressed his head to her back, returning her embrace.

“Little one,” he sighed in her mind. “Are you alright?”

She nodded. “I will be, now that I am with you again. What about you? Are you injured?”

He gave a slight shrug with one shoulder. “A few bumps and scratches from that fall the sorcerer gave me, but other than that, I am entirely unharmed. No soldier managed to touch me,” he said proudly.

She smiled at him. “What a clever dragon you are.”

He gave a little snort, ruffling her hair with the air. “I do not need to be patronized by such a small creature.”

A small laugh escaped her, despite her generally somber mind. Then, with a sigh, she asked him what she really wished to know. “What have you heard about the battle? Do we know yet how many are dead?”

Oriens shook his golden head sadly. “I’ve been here since it ended. Once you slept, it was all I could do to return here before sleeping myself. You are quite an exhausting person to be bonded to.”

She chuckled quietly before saying, “We should probably go see what we can do to help, try to find out how many were lost.”

Oriens nodded. “I think that is wise.”

She had no desire to face any more death, but she needed to know what the extent of the damage had been. Oriens rose to his feet and followed her back down the hall, his neck stretched forward to avoid brushing his head on the ceiling. They stepped out into the dim light of late evening, the sun reflecting off of the snow in numerous shades of red and orange.

A few nearby elves glanced up as Oriens emerged. They dipped their heads respectfully, then returned to their respective tasks. Eliana’s eyes skimmed over the scene around her, never lingering on one thing for too long. The village was solemn and silent. The momentary thrill of victory was gone.

In the red dusk, elves bent over prone forms on the snow and carried limp bodies between them or over their shoulders. She quickly looked away. How many had died because of her? She had brought their enemies to their gates, and they had fought, believing they needed to defend her.

She lifted her eyes again and scanned the faces of the living around her. She needed to find someone who would tell her what had happened. She knew she couldn’t ask Caelum. He would dilute the truth, soften the cold reality for her. She needed someone who didn’t think she was made of porcelain. She needed Iocus.

Eliana trudged towards the outskirts of the village, Oriens plodding along behind her, glancing around for the elf’s child-like face. The sun had set, and the moon hung in the sky. It looked brittle somehow, as if a single touch would shatter it and send it hurtling down to the earth.

When at last she reached the practice fields on the eastern edge of Amiscan, she tasted bile in her throat. Rows of bodies in elven uniform stretched out before her, their tunics stained with blood. She fought to keep her body from trembling as she walked between the rows, looking down at the dead. She recognized a few faces, but knew none of their names.

She continued down the rows, guilt rising inside of her as she gazed at each of the men and women who had given their lives because of her. She halted abruptly, looking down at four large, male elves. They rested shoulder to shoulder, and she recognized their faces. They were the four soldiers that Caelum had assigned to guard her quarters, and they had died in the attempt.

A hand on her shoulder made her jump, and she spun around with a gasp. It was Iocus. He was not the carefree, cheerful elf she had known. His youthful face was solemn and smeared in blood.

“Sorry,” he said, taking a small step backwards. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, it’s okay,” Eliana answered breathlessly, smoothing a hand over her hair and trying to settle her pounding heart. “You elves just always move so quietly. I didn’t hear you behind me. But I was looking for you anyways.”

A small smile touched his lips and he raised a hand gently to her cheek. “You were?”

“Be careful, Eliana,” Oriens warned from where he stood a few feet away.

Gently, Eliana removed his hand from her face and returned it to his side. “Yes. I need to know what happened. I know Caelum won’t tell me the truth—at least, not all of it. He tries too hard to shelter me. What are the numbers?” It seemed like a hard, calloused way to ask the question—as if the soldiers who had fallen were only numbers—but it was the easiest way to keep herself from trembling.

Iocus frowned, his face looking much less childish without its usual cheery demeanor. “We did a lot more damage than we received. Last count I heard, we had gathered over three hundred human bodies. I was just counting our losses. We’ve found seventy-four bodies so far. But we haven’t done roll call yet, so we don’t know who’s missing. There could be bodies we haven’t found, our elves taken prisoner. I know of at least one…”

“What?” Eliana asked, her heart jumping. “Someone’s been captured? Who?”

“Ater.”

The face of the frightened sixteen-year-old elf flashed through her mind. “Ater?” she repeated quietly, hoping she had misunderstood him.

“Yes,” he answered.

“How?”

Iocus shook his head with a sigh, then relayed his story to her. “He was in the second line with me. It was obvious he was nervous. I tried to reassure him that everything would be alright, but he didn’t even seem to hear me. When the battle reached us, he didn’t hesitate. He went into it just as eagerly as everyone else.

“He’s an incredible fighter for someone his age. I don’t know how he could have been taken so quickly. He killed six men and then… this group just descended on him. One man knocked him unconscious and the group carried him into the woods. I tried to follow but… soldiers just kept getting in my way.

“Once we’d cleared the area, I took a few men with me to search for him. We followed the trail a ways but then it just… vanished. It was like they disappeared into thin air.”

In her mind, Eliana remembered the black cloak, swirling, swallowing the sorcerer, making him vanish without a trace.

“It’s not possible…” she thought to Oriens.

“It would explain why the sorcerer was absent from the battle for a time,” the dragon replied.

Eliana had not considered it. She’d heard the sorcerer’s magic at the beginning of the battle, then faced him near the end, but he had not been present as she’d fought with the second line—Ater’s line—between the trees.

“But why? What could they want with him? What could have happened between them?”

“Perhaps…”

She sensed the direction of Oriens’ thoughts. “I felt his fear, Oriens,” she said stubbornly. “I felt his pain. I was in his mind when he remembered meeting that man. There was no sense of alliance.”

“Dark magic can change a person’s mind completely, Eliana. Perhaps, though Ater feared the sorcerer, he is still in alliance with him.”

“What are you thinking about?”

Eliana looked up at Iocus’s curious face, staring at her as she had her silent conversation with her dragon. She’d almost forgotten he was there. She shook her head.

“Just… talking to Oriens about Ater. Wondering why he, of everyone, was captured.”

Iocus sighed and shrugged. “Who knows?”

She decided to change the subject; she would try to figure out Ater’s situation later. “Where are the human bodies?” she asked.

The elf raised a slender finger and pointed. She turned her head in the direction he indicated and found a sight that sickened her, bringing her own guilt to the surface. On the very edge of the cliff, hundreds of human bodies were haphazardly stacked, thrown atop one another like manure on a dung heap. They were all clad in the red and black of Vereor’s army.

She froze, staring at the human bodies. They were the enemies. What had she expected? She had killed one of them herself, with a heart full of hatred. But now, anger and determination flared up inside of Eliana. It would end now. She turned and sprinted towards the elves who were throwing more bodies on the pile. “Stop!” she screamed. “Stop!”

They turned to her with confused expressions, watching her dashing towards them, her dragon galloping alongside her. She drew to a halt in front of them, her face contorted with fury.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

The elven soldiers exchanged looks, then the one closer to her answered hesitantly, “We’re… stacking the bodies, Rider. So we can burn them. Then we’ll push the ashes into the sea.”

“And will you do the same to them?” she asked, pointing over her shoulder at the elven dead, so reverently laid out on the grass.

“No…” the elf answered slowly, still quite obviously confused by the Rider’s anger. “We return our dead to the earth.”

“Then why do these men not get the same treatment?” she asked sharply. “Why are they to be burnt and pushed from a cliff?”

“They’re… the enemy, my lady…”

“No!” she snapped, clenching her trembling hands. “They are men! They are men who followed orders, just as you did! They are men who had homes and families, like you!”

Her torrent of anger had attracted attention, and many of the soldiers were now drawing closer, trying to see what had angered their Rider. She turned towards the crowd at large and raised her voice louder, tears brimming in her eyes. She had to convince them—to convince herself—that this was not the way.

“Listen to me! All of you! This hatred of the humans—this division between us and them—must end! It is this kind of barbarism, this kind of callousness, that keeps us fighting one another, that keeps us shedding each other’s blood so thoughtlessly! Do you want this war to end?”

The elves stared at her, blinking.

“I asked you all a question!” she roared.

There were murmurs of assent.

“As long as you do this—as long as you view a human as something different from you, as something less than you—then it will never end.” She paused and drew a trembling breath, remembering the human blood that was on her own hands. She forced herself to continue. “I am half human. I share the same blood as these men you so willingly discard! These are my people, just as you are my people.” Her voice quieted a little, beginning to shake.

“Now, I ask you, as your Rider and your friend, to please… show my brothers the respect that warriors deserve. Take them from that pile. Lay them out beside our elven brothers, and put them to rest—together. It is the only way our land can be changed.”

Eliana looked up at her dragon, feeling herself beginning to tremble. “Oriens, please get me out of here.”

He crouched and she quickly pulled herself into the saddle, leaving the elves staring after her in stunned silence as Oriens swept them up into the sky.

“Where are we going?” he asked calmly.

“I don’t care. Anywhere. I just can’t be here anymore. Not now.”

“As you wish, little one.”

Without another word, the dragon turned towards the ridge of the mountains. They rose to its peak and settled on a cliff that was just wide enough for Oriens. Eliana leaned forward in the saddle and pressed her flushed face against the cool golden scales, thinking of what she had said to the elves. She knew that the words she spoke were true, but anger still lingered in her heart. Everyone was looking to her to unite the two races, but bitterness towards the humans who had tormented her tainted her against them all.

“Give it time, Eliana,” Oriens said soothingly. “Forgiveness does not come easily.”

“I did not even know I needed to forgive…” she replied, her mind weary. “Until I killed that man, I did not even realize how much hatred I have inside of me.”

“Just remember who you are, Eliana. Remember that human and elven blood are both in your veins. You have been taught to believe that you are neither, but you are both. You must embrace that. And you know that not all humans are cruel. Think of your father. Think of your friend Otium. They are human. Do you hate them as well?”

“No,” she sighed.

“Then hold to that, and the hatred will leave.”

She drew a slow breath and tried to push her thoughts aside. But her mind was spinning with a million different thoughts and images. The pile of bodies… The dark sorcerer… The man she had killed… Ater…

Her mind dwelt on this last thought. Even in distant villages like Vegrandis, there were rumors of Emperor Corpanis’s cruelty—executions, tortures, public whippings. He was someone who was more feared by his subjects than respected. His reign over the humans of Paerolia had been a hard one for the past half century. And now his son, Prince Nocens, was taking over in his father’s old age, and it was rumored that he was twice as cruel. People even occasionally whispered about the idea of a rebellion against the emperor and his son, but that was all it ever amounted to—whisperings and ideas.

There was no doubt in Eliana’s mind that the dark sorcerer was under the emperor’s control. And, if Ater was not aligned with them, she knew he would be tortured in the dungeons beneath Vereor’s palace. The young elf had already been broken by them once before. They would do it to him again.

“And if he is aligned with them,” Oriens said, adding to her thoughts, “then he has all of the information they could ever wish to gain about the elven army and nation.”

Eliana mulled this over as she lay on Oriens’ back, the brittle moon washing her in pale light. A plan began to piece together between their two minds as the snow began to fall again. If she could get into the palace, she could find the dungeons and Ater. Whether he was prisoner or conspirator, she could return him to Iterum where he belonged.

She sensed Oriens’ approval of the plan and she sat up, feeling suddenly determined. The sense of direction, the sense of purpose, was a relief in contrast to the hopeless wandering she felt she’d been doing over the past few months—just marking time until something important happened. Now, she was no longer waiting. She had a plan, and she was going to see it through.

“Okay,” she said to Oriens. “I’m ready to go back now.”

The dragon spread his wings, dropping a thin blanket of white snow to the rock below, then soared towards Amiscan. The tasks of the soldiers had been completed. There were no more bodies visible in the village, and the fresh snow had covered the red stains on the ground. The earth was white once again.