The Forgotten Land of Myria

ROY

“Land at sight! Land at sight!” Jardious’ cries hammered my ears. There was a lot of commotion on the main platform. Everyone was up and running. On the mast, Jardious was waving his hand wildly, while Leof and Sky hauled up the Golden Wing’s sail--a black sail with a wing sewn in gold (so original). I dragged myself up, still a bit dizzy, and made my way to the platform to see what it was all about.

A large piece of land popped up on the horizon. From far off, a bird flew in and perched on Eleazar’s arm with a note tied to its foot. It was a carrier pigeon. A pigeon--literally, like flying rat, a pigeon. Eleazar sent me a sly wink. Livia had mentioned that they were from Myria--I still hadn’t gotten used to it.

After a full six days of sailing, we had reached our first stop. Thank God. This sea had a sickly green color and if I stared at it long enough I could feel that giant tentacle wrapping around my calf and pulling me under...Yeah, land is good.

I had just finished packing my things as we hit land. In front of us was an old stacked rock wall with a heavy wooden gate and two tall Boniquippan guards planted in front of it. Eleazar hopped off the ship first, with Banebee “whooing” over his shoulder, and approached the guards. They said a few words, exchanged nods, and Eleazar turned and gestured for us to follow.

I picked up the broadsword that the Chairmen had left in my crate. It was pretty bonzer. The hilt was woven like a small basket covering the handle, like the swords that pirates had. Back home, Alfie had a huge chest filled with these very realistic toy swords--as kids, Jenna and I would sometimes even bribe him to let us play with them. I’m not as embarrassed as I should be to say that, up until a few years ago, the three of us would have the sickest late night sword fights.

I smiled to myself.

If they could see me now, I thought. I slid the sword down its scabbard and flung the spear over my shoulder. I had to keep them close at all times.

One of the guards raised his hand and the gates creaked open. “Welcome to Winmore,” he said, “the City of the First Ruins.”

“Is this a native dwelling?” Angus asked, before we walked in.

“Of the Boniquippa, yes,” Eleazar responded. “However, it was obliterated, left uninhabitable by the First Invasion. Later, when the Matahi Chairmen needed a baitpost to be built in these parts, an agreement was made with the Boniquippa.”

“A baitpost...” Angus muttered, “what kind of bait do we need?”

Eleazar hunched down and sniffed the air. “We need gorklebait.” he exclaimed, snapping into his storyteller character. Immediately back to his old self, he rolled his eyes.

“The city itself is bait,” Livia stepped in. “The point is, the people of Winmore are not here because they want to be, but because they must. If it gets attacked we’ll know Theon’s on the move. It’s a strategic point, albeit a suicidal one, so the population of Winmore is rotated annually through a random draft selection.”

“The only one who is really happy about being here is Lord Tash,” Eleazar said. “So don’t expect anyone other than him to be friendly.”

“I didn’t expect anyone to be friendly,” I muttered, noticing the guards glaring at me with a mean look. There was no better name to describe Winmore, once we were inside. The city really was ruined. The air was dry and hot, and the muffled sounds of metal clanking and men grunting filled the open space. There were clusters of makeshift shacks--more like tents--surrounded by mounds of gravel and stacked crates. The Boarhound would’ve loved to have put me to work in this place. To top it off, there was sand all over the place; on the ground, on the roofs and even some of it floating on thin air. For all the noise, there was no sign of life anywhere. No people, no animals, no movement--well, except for the sand.

“You know, bait’s supposed to attract,” Angus said. “Who would bother attacking this place when it’s already destroyed?”

“Who would bother asking a question when they already know the answer?” Eleazar snapped back.

“Okay...Theon, of course--but why?”

Ada conked Angus in the head with her staff. “Because Myrrh doesn’t work here. See?” She pointed to the now unlit tip of the staff. Angus had just fallen to pieces. Poor guy--shaking, blushing, twitching...he finally managed to squeak out a “Thank you.”

I couldn’t help myself.

“No, really Ada” I said. “Thank you.”

“And how about puttin’ your back in’o it next time, eh?” Jardious added, cackling as I burst into laughter; even Leof managed to crack a smile.

“Let’s keep it moving. We’re almost there,” Sky said, just as Angus fell into a coughing fit. Before I could make another joke about him, I began to feel a burning sensation in my throat and Sky put his arm around my shoulder.

“It’s the toxicity,” he said. “You’re okay, but we have to get inside the castle.”

I wheezed. “What castle?”

I leaned on Sky and we began to double-step. The sand slowly cleared and two large marble pillars took shape, around 10 meters in front of us. There was a small crowd waiting at the entrance. They kept their eyes fixed as we walked by and two of them, a man and a woman, offered to take us to the “main hall”. It was a wide pavilion bordered with rocks that were covered in neatly cut tendrils--that was just Eleazar’s description of it, I had no idea. There was a long wooden table that stretched out all the way across the pavilion. At the end of the table sat a man with thick grubby arms resting heavily on the table. He looked like he’d been sitting there for a hundred years and not even his shaggy red beard could hide the double-chin that slouched under it. He wasn’t a native. More like a big, fat, retired viking. His dark eyes, however, seemed to light up in excitement. The man and woman who had taken us there quickly scurried over to help him up--he obviously couldn’t do it himself.

“Greetings, fellow heroes!” he bellowed across the table. I think I felt it shake a bit. “I am Lord Tash, keeper of Winmore, for those who haven’t yet met me. And for those who have,” he turned towards Sky, “well, greetings again!”

He signaled to his assistants. “Sky completed his service to Winmore a few years back!”

The two pressed their fists against their chests and bowed.

“Thank you!” they said.

We then took turns bowing, nodding, and exchanging names.

“We are pleased to take you in. Tonight, you are our guests. Let the feasting begin!”

On cue, men, women, and children flooded the pavilion. Some carried instruments, others carried bowls of wine or silver platters of food. Everything you could imagine, from full roasted poultry, to sweet potato cream, and fruit pies, large beef fillets--good enough to feed a family of five--and the sweetest fruit punch drinks. Seriously, what did these people want us to think, showing us all this amazing stuff after we’d seen the toxic shithole outside the castle?

The feast went on for hours, and eventually Sky explained that everyone had to live inside the castle because the local stone that was quarried here gave it a natural protection from the toxicity. Nobody seemed to get tired and we were forced to stay until the end, since we were the guests. Apparently, that was “good manners”. When it all finally died out, we were taken to our rooms. We had our own separate rooms, each with a small bird perched on the window sill, that, according to them, was trained to chirp at the given hour.

Other than that, the room had a nice bed with curtains draped around it and a steaming silver bathtub which I sat in for a long while--long enough for six days of crud to wash off. I didn’t even bother cleaning or folding my clothes. I just wrapped myself in a robe and as soon as my head hit the pillow, I fell asleep.

Although it felt like I could sleep forever, it was still dark out when the bird chirped. I knew if I closed my eyes again I’d fall back asleep, so I jumped out of bed. I grabbed my clothes from the floor, dirty as they were, and threw them on, gathered my sword and spear--that I had kept at an arm’s length--chewed a few seepwillow mints, and barged out the door.

Seepwillow mints were the natural toothbrushes in Myria. By putting a handful in your mouth, your teeth were perfectly cleaned, and your breath was fresh. I still suspected that Jardious hadn’t heard about them yet. I was one of the first ones to arrive at the entrance hall, only behind Safira, Livia, Angus, and Ada. The sun wasn’t planning on rising anytime soon and the darkness sent chills up my back. This time, no one was there to see us off.

No crowd.

“You think this is unnerving,” a voice muttered behind me, like he was reading my thoughts. “Wait till you get a load of the Trenches.”

Lord Tash stood slumped over, struggling to hold himself upright (I didn’t even know he could stand on his own). He didn’t look nearly as lively and laid-back as he did the night before. In fact, he looked like he’d aged overnight. His eyes were gloomy and his expression--hungover? After everyone had arrived, Lord Tash spoke.

“Well, my fellow heroes, hosting you has been a pleasure. However, we have yet to honor you with our endowments.”

He waved his hand and eleven men walked in leading the largest horses I’d ever seen. They were all extremely fit, yet still graceful. Their coats were of a dark, slick, silver tone, with white manes almost glittering under the dim night light.

“These are moonlight stallions,” Tash stated. “They are known for their incredible size and strength, but also for their swift movements. They are what we call nightshaders, for their stealth and lack of a shadow make them almost invisible during the night.”

Lord Tash’s expression grew even darker, and his face went pale as his voice faltered.

“The Trenches are a dangerous place,” he whispered. “They may not seem like it, but they are. You won’t bump heads with Theon’s soldiers in there, but you sure might encounter some of his pets. The shadows of the Trenches are swarming with cave dwellers, savages, and other nasty creatures.” I took a step back, and tried to keep myself calm. “If they don’t get to you, the freezing air will. That’s why you will need stallions like these to pull you through.”

“We are sincerely thankful,” Sky said with a bow, and we all nodded.

“Very well,” Tash responded. “Then you are off.” The men led the way, pulling the horses by their ropes. There were eleven, since, according to Lord Tash, one of them was to carry the thirteen-day stock of food and supplies that they’d given us. We walked in silence all the way back to the wooden door, where we had entered the city. There wasn’t a single person out, and we didn’t hear any voices. It was almost like they were scared for us.

Outside, the men saddled each horse with a white saddle that blended in perfectly with the stallions’ color. The reigns fell lightly over their shoulders, and when they were all done, one of the men turned to us.

“The moonlight stallion chooses its rider,” he said. “You are to approach them with caution and the destined one will come to you. Once it has been mounted by you, no other rider can mount it.”

Wow I thought. First the weapons, now the horses. These Myrians really don’t like sharing, do they?”

Like always, we took turns, starting with Eleazar. I’m not sure if it was a coincidence that he got the largest and strongest one there was. It definitely stood out next to the others.

When my turn came, all the remaining stallions backed up, and moved restlessly like they were bothered by my presence. Then, one of them stepped forward. It glared straight at me, bowed its head, and I got the message. Without hesitation, I mounted it.

“You can give it the name of your choice,” the man said.

At that moment, Paewyn’s words echoed in my ears. “Be brave, young one. Be brave.”

“Brave,” I whispered. “His name is Brave.”

I had ridden horses before, but it was nothing like this one. It adjusted perfectly to me, and I didn’t even have to command it. It basically knew just what I wanted. Finally, everyone was set, including the supply horse. The other guard then turned to all of us.

“You are to ride down the outside of the city walls, until you see the small hill overlooking a plain,” he said. “There will be a clear entrance waiting for you there.”

The two guards bowed and proceeded back inside the city walls, quickly closing the gates behind them like they were trying to hide from something. We did just as they said, riding along the entire city from the outside.

I didn’t like the whole feeling of it. How no one was there to wish us luck when we left, how the city seemed completely deserted, and how the guards quickly hid after telling us what to do. A gut-wrenching feeling invaded my stomach. It felt like we were being followed. Before the thought could grow, I quickly shook my head and looked up at the starlit sky, trying to concentrate on the path ahead of us. As we rode I started to feel a bit more relaxed.

Soon, the only sound being made in the dark night was the soft galloping of the moonlight stallions.