A Forge of Valor

Alec stood on the deck, gripping the rail of the sleek black ship, and watched the sea, as he had been for days. He watched the giant waves roll in and out, lifting their small sailing ship, and watched the foam break below the hold as they cut through water with a speed unlike anything he had ever experienced. Their ship leaned as the sails were stiff with wind, the gales strong and steady. Alec studied it with a craftsman’s eyes, wondering what this ship was made of; clearly it was crafted of an unusual, sleek material, one he had never encountered before, and it had allowed them to maintain speed all day and night, and to maneuver in the dark past the Pandesian fleet, out of the Sea of Sorrow, and into the Sea of Tears.

As Alec reflected, he recalled what a harrowing journey it had been, a journey through days and nights, the sails never lowering, the long nights on the black sea filled with hostile sounds, of the ship’s creaking, and of exotic creatures jumping and flapping. More than once he had awakened to see a glowing snake trying to board the boat, only to watch the man he was sailing with kick it off with his boot.

Most mysterious of all, more so than any of the exotic sea life, was Sovos, the man at the helm of the ship. This man who had sought Alec out at the forge, who had brought him on this ship, who was taking him to some remote place, a man Alec wondered if he were crazy to trust. Thus far, at least, Sovos had already saved Alec’s life. Alec recalled looking back at the city of Ur as they were far out at sea, feeling agony, feeling helpless, as he witnessed the Pandesian fleet closing in. From the horizon, he had seen the cannonballs crack through the air, had heard the distant rumble, had seen the toppling of the great buildings, buildings which he himself had been inside but hours before. He had tried to get off the ship, to help them all, but by then, they had been too far away. He had insisted that Sovos turn around, but his pleas had fallen on deaf ears.

Alec teared up at the thought of all his friends back there, especially Marco and Dierdre. He closed his eyes and tried, to no avail, to shake away the memory. His chest tightened as he felt he had let them all down.

The only thing keeping Alec going, that shook him from his despondency, was the sense that he was needed elsewhere, as Sovos had insisted; that he had a certain destiny, that he could use it to help destroy the Pandesians somewhere else. After all, as Sovos  had said, his dying back there with the rest of them would not have helped anyone. Still, he hoped and prayed that Marco and Dierdre had survived, and that he could still return in time to reunite with them.

So curious to know where they were going, Alec had peppered Sovos with questions, yet he had remained stubbornly silent, always at the helm night and day, his back to Alec. He never, as far as Alec could tell, even slept or ate. He just stood there watching the sea in his tall leather boots and black leather coat, his scarlet silks draped over his shoulder, wearing a cape with its curious insignia. With his short, brown beard and flashing green eyes that stared at the waves as if they were one with them, the mystery around him only deepened.

Alec stared out at the unusual Sea of Tears, with its light aqua color, and he felt overcome with an urgency to know where he was being taken. Unable to stand the silence any longer, he turned to Sovos, desperate for answers.

“Why me?” Alec asked, breaking the silence, trying yet again, determined this time for an answer. “Why choose me from that entire city? Why was I the one meant to survive? You could have saved a hundred people more important than me.”

Alec waited, but Sovos remained silent, his back to him, studying the sea.

Alec decided to try another route.

“Where are we going?” Alec asked yet again. “And how is this ship able to sail so fast? What is it made of?”

Alec watched the man’s back. Minutes passed.

Finally, the man shook his head, his back still turned.

“You are going where you are meant to go, where you are meant to be. I chose you because we need you, and no other.”

Alec wondered.

“Need me for what?” Alec pressed.

“To destroy Pandesia.”

“Why me?” Alec asked. “How can I possibly help?”

“All will be clear once we arrive,” Sovos replied.

“Arrive where?” Alec pressed, frustrated. “My friends are in Escalon. People I love. A girl.”

“I am sorry,” Sovos sighed, “but no one is left back there. All that you once knew and loved is gone.”

There came a long silence, and amidst the whistling of the wind, Alec prayed he was wrong—yet deep down he felt he was right. How could life change so quickly? he wondered.

“Yet you are alive,” Sovos continued, “and that is a very precious gift. Do not squander it. You can help many others, if you pass the test.”

Alec furrowed his brow.

“What test?” he asked.

Sovos finally turned and looked at him, his eyes piercing.

“If you are the one,” he said, “our cause will fall on your shoulders; if not, we shall have no use for you.”

Alec tried to understand.

“We’ve been sailing for days now and have gotten nowhere,” Alec observed. “Just deeper into the sea. I can’t even see Escalon anymore.”

The man smirked.

“And where do you think we’re going?” he asked.

Alec shrugged.

“It appears we sail northeast. Perhaps somewhere toward Marda.”

Alec studied the horizon, exasperated.

Finally, Sovos replied.

“How wrong you are, young one,” he replied. “How wrong indeed.”

Sovos turned back to the helm as a strong gust of wind rose up, the boat riding into the whitecaps of the ocean. Alec look beyond him, and as he did, for the first time, he was startled to spot a shape on the horizon.

He hurried forward, filled with excitement as he gripped the rail.

In the distance there slowly emerged a landmass, just beginning to take shape. The land seemed to sparkle, as if made of diamonds. Alec raised a hand to his eyes, peering, wondering what it could possibly be. What island could exist out here in the middle of nowhere? He wracked his brain, but could remember no land on the maps. Was it some country he had never heard of?

“What is it?” Alec asked in a rush, staring out in anticipation.

Sovos turned, and for the first time since Alec had met him, he smiled wide.

“Welcome, my friend,” he said, “to the Lost Isles.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Aidan stood bound to a post, unable to move, while he watched his father, kneeling a few feet before him, flanked by Pandesian soldiers. They stood, swords raised, holding them over his head.

“NO!” Aidan shrieked.

He tried to break free, to rush forward and spare his father, yet no matter how hard he tried, he could not budge, the ropes digging into his wrists and ankles. He was forced to watch as his father knelt there, eyes filled with tears, looking to him for help.

“Aidan!” his father called, reaching a hand out for him.

“Father!” Aidan called back.

The blades came down, and a moment later, Aidan’s face was splattered in blood as they chopped off his father’s head.

“NO!” Aidan shrieked, feeling his own life collapse within him, feeling himself sinking into a black hole.