Young Writers Society

Chapter Ten…The shattered expedition

One traveling alone is certain death…

Gael never let go of Eleia’s hand as they forced their way through the brush. They could hear others running nearby, but they couldn’t see them between the darkness of the forest, the smoke, and the frenzy with which they moved. All they knew was they had to keep moving. They could still hear the dragons growling, snapping, and barking, their voices carrying like thunder, but it sounded like the rampage had stopped. However, the fire did not.

Gael’s chest burned, panting hard as they continued to run. He felt Eleia dragging behind him a little. Her breaths were loud and ragged. “Come on, keep going. We’re almost there!” he called back to her, giving her hand a squeeze.

The ground suddenly disappeared under his foot. He yelled as he lurched forward, a muddy bank greeting him. He tucked the satchel against his chest and shielded it with his other arm. His grip on her hand was broken as he fell down the slope and rolled. She shrieked, following him. They tumbled down the slope to a river bank, his arms and back scraped by thorns. He grunted and bounced on the sand at the bottom, and she landed beside him. She moaned. He felt her roll over beside him.

He heard something crashing through the brush near them, going down the slope in a similar direction. He wasn’t sure if it was someone or something. At this point, he was not going to take the chance. He stepped forward and felt cool water on his toes. They were at a river, but in the dark he could not see how wide or deep it was. He swallowed and clenched his fist. He closed his eyes and focused hard for a moment, and the gem on his wrist lit up. It glowed for a moment, flickering like a candle. He held his hand up, illuminating the river. It wasn’t very deep, but it was just wide enough to give them shelter from the fire. He reached for her hand again and pulled her into the cold water. As they crossed to the other side, the jungle continued to burn behind them.

They climbed the next bank and got up into a grove. Gael groaned softly and bent over, bracing his hands on his knees. He could feel blood on his arm and his wrist throbbed. He gently touched the sack with the eggs. They were still there, and they were solid and warm. He glanced at her. "Are you hurt?"

Eleia panted. "Small hurt… Are you hurt?"

He exhaled. "A little. Come. We need to make camp for the night."

"Gael?!" Felic's voice carried through the brush. "Gael, are you there?!"

Gael looked around. "Felic? Stay where you are! I'll come to you." He focused some of his energy into his crystal, causing it to glow again. It flickered with a warm yellow light, revealing a small trail through the brush. He walked a little deeper into the woods until he spotted Felic and Andrien. He walked a little closer and saw Hamon sitting on the ground, nursing his ankle. The three men looked up, blinking in the light. "Are you hurt?"

Felic swallowed. "Just sore. I think Hamon turned his ankle. The dragon got my leg a little."

Hamon waved him off. "Just a bruise. I'll be fine." He stood with a grunt.

Andrien nodded. "Not sure where we are. We ought to camp for the night. We can't do anything in this dark."

Gael sighed. "No, we can't. But we can’t stay here. Those dragons are still close.” They moved a little slower, starting to feel their aches and pains now, but they pressed further into the jungle, away from the smell of smoke and the glow of the fire.

By morning, they were out of range of the danger, but they also had no clue where they were. The jungle was thick here, with steep, rocky slopes and a winding, roaring river cutting between the mountains. Felic tried to ask Eleia if she knew where they were, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. Gael reminded them that her people were not nomadic, and they would have to find their way back the hard way.

Gael’s wrist and Hamon’s ankle both ended up swelling and growing stiff by the next morning. Eleia used a knife to strip vines down into string. They used smooth, straight sticks and the hand-made twine to brace the injured joints. Eleia and Felic sustained their own injuries in the panic, her cheek and elbow raked and bleeding and his calf mauled by the dragon’s claws. Hamon and Andrien helped clean their wounds with water from the river and wrap them in fern leaves and strips from their shirts. Gael checked on the eggs. They were still there, still hard and heavy with the unhatched babies shifting around inside.

Eleia glared at Felic as they watched Gael check the eggs. She huffed and muttered in her language. Gael glanced at her in quiet warning.

Felic bit his lip. “Now what do we do?”

Eleia puffed. “Take eggs back and pray to gods.”

Felic blinked. He shrank a little with her tone. “I didn’t do it…”

“You go with them! You saw him take them! You no stop it!” She stood. “We run from death! Dragon will kill us!”

“Eleia,” Gael called, tone firm but gentle.

“You get us killed, hunted and burned!” She started to lash out at him with an open palm.

Gael stood and caught her hand. He turned her hand down, standing between them. “Enough, Eleia! It’s not his fault. Gauvain took the eggs, not him.”

She jerked her hand away from him. Her eyes shimmered, and her brow was tight, pinched. Her lips quivered and her nostrils flared. “Bad magic comes from mad dragons! We will die here!”

Felic stammered, his tone elevating. Gael held his ground. “No one is going to die! Not here! Not while I’m around. But we have to work together. We will keep each other alive, as long as we don’t panic and fight!” He looked between them.

Andrien nodded. “Agreed. Our priority should be returning to the expedition. I’m sure we suffered losses, and we’ll need to regroup as soon as we can.”

Hamon nodded. “If those pompous asses from Astredine still want to proceed with all this. None of us expected to actually see a damn dragon, much less fight one off!”

Felic swallowed. “Gael warned us at the beginning. He showed us the pictures they made on their first trek–”

“Portraits can be forged in any parlor,” Hamon chided. He offered a hand to Gael and added, “No offense.”

“None taken.” Gael glanced at Eleia. She was still tense, her chest and shoulders heaving with the force of her short breaths. He touched her arm just above her elbow, squeezing gently. “We’ll be okay. I promise, on my life. We will all get out of here and get back to the city.” And Eduoard was not going to get his fame and fortune. That thought brought him a flicker of satisfaction. “Eleia, help me make weapons. We need anything. Everything.”

Eleia swallowed, hard, and nodded stiffly. She let go of her breath and shot Felic one last look. The group settled in. Hamon, Andrien, and Felic worked together, and Gael took Eleia with him to the river. He tried to keep her calm by working on stone and bone with her. By evening, they all possessed a tool of some kind and settled down to rest around a fire. Miles away, the dragon-fire finally died down, although the smoke carried through the sky for days.

Separated from the wagons and horses, the sheer expanse and wildness of the jungle was clear to them. On the far side of the river, the trees were broad, some as big around as houses in Pagetonya and Astredine. Gael, Eleia, Felic, Hamon, and Andrien stayed close to each other. They walked in a single file, Gael taking the front and using his blade to cut their way through the brush. It let them traverse it easier. He used the sun to guide them, trying to return east and get back to the original trail their expedition had carved.

There was beauty in the land, too. They were in the foothills, and every day they passed a cascading waterfall. Rivers ran clear and shallow, and they were lined with rocks of a million shades and hues. It was also summer, so the trees and shrubs were in full bloom and boasted hundreds of flowers on every branch. Gael took the chance to pluck a branch that was overloaded with flowers and give it to Eleia as they hiked, and at night, they set their coals against a rock or weathered trunk and rested in the shelter of the massive boughs. Hamon and Andrien caught him in the act of giving her flowers once, and they teased him over it for the rest of the afternoon. It felt good to laugh, even as they kept climbing through the dense brush. But the summer brought rain with it, and rain started to fall more regularly on the fourth day of their hike. By the fifth day, they managed to work their way back to the river that had saved them, though upstream. The river was deeper here and cut a deep gorge into the surface. Gael frowned, observing the rapids for a moment.

Felic chewed on his lip. “Can we use these vines to swing across?”

Gael grimaced. “It’s not the best idea. We have no way to know how far up they reach.”

Hamon exhaled. “I’d rather hike up a little more and try to find a crossing. There’s always a shallow path somewhere on these. What do you think, Eleia?”

Eleia bit her lip. “We can find shallow. It will be safe there. This… This is… sharp?”

“Steep,” Gael automatically, gently, corrected her. “Very well. We keep going.”

They found a place to cross the river just before dark. Gael was tired, and his wrist was throbbing. He grimaced and winced softly, putting the blade down and touching his bandaged hand. Andrien and Hamon were trying to start a fire for them, and Felic was down by the water, trying to use his spear to catch a fish or two. Eleia joined Gael. She touched his hand gently. “Let me see,” she whispered. He held still for her. She was gentle as she unwrapped the makeshift brace and freed his wrist. It was a little discolored and swollen under his thumb, extending into his forearm. He flexed his fingers and found that it was stiff and sore. He winced softly when he bent his hand a little.

“I don’t think it’s broken,” he muttered to her.

She shook her head. “I do not think a break here. But this is good for you, for now.” She started to wrap his wrist again.

Behind them, Felic yelled. Something crashed, thrashing leaves and scattering gravel from the riverbank. Felic yelled again, and something roared. “Gael! Help!” The boy screamed a third time, louder, before Gael could register what was happening.

Gael spun, grabbing his brush blade. He set the bag of eggs down and charged, racing toward the river’s edge. Andrien was on his heels, faster than the bulkier man. They broke through the brush and found a large cat with brindle stripes of brown and gray on top of Felic. The boy was struggling, trying to punch his way free. The feline’s fangs were buried in his forearm, and claws raked the boy’s chest, ripping cloth and flesh both. Gael gasped. “Felic!”

“I got the cat! Get the boy!” Andrien picked up Felic’s spear and shoved it into the corner of the cat’s mouth, trying to force it to let go of him. It yowled, the sharp edge drawing blood from its cheek. It released the boy and swat at Andrien.

Gael grabbed Felic by the back of his shirt and lifted him away from the water’s edge. “Eleia! Help Felic!”

The cat lashed out at Andrien. Up close, they saw how big the beast was. Its shoulder reached Andrien’s waist, and its paws were wide enough to cover a man’s face. Its jaws each bore a pair of extremely long fangs, slightly longer than a man’s finger. But its eyes were dull and its muzzle and down into its neck was speckled with white. Its hide was covered in faded, patchy scars. Eleia and Hamon grabbed the boy and pulled him to safety. She yelled at Gael, but he didn’t hear the words. He charged into the fray to help Andrien as the cat tried to bear down on him next.

Andrien used the spear as a sort of shield, keeping the shaft between him and the cat. It swung and batted at him, forcing him backwards and leaving notches in the wood. It hissed and started to leap at him. Gael threw one of the stone knives Eleia had made. It sank into its side. It yowled and curled on itself, biting at the wooden hilt. Andrien and Gael worked together, one striking at its chest with the spear and the other bringing the curved steel blade down on the back of its neck. Blood ran from the wounds they inflicted, and the cat cried. It thrashed despite the mortal injuries, managing to knock Gael and Andrien both off their feet. It was already staggering as it retreated back into the brush.

Gael panted. He looked at Andrien. “Give me that spear,” he ordered. “Go help with Felic.” He grit his teeth. He hoped they weren’t too late to save the boy.

Andrien nodded. “Finish that old bastard. You saw his eyes?”

“I did. Go on. I’ll handle it.”

The cat didn’t go far. Gael found it collapsed only twenty paces into the woods. It wasn’t able to lift its head, and its paw movements were sloppy and erratic. Gael watched it for a moment. He swallowed and approached it quietly, gripping the spear firmly. He leveled it, aimed, and plunged it one last time into the beast’s heart. The cat grunted and grew quiet, laying still. Gael knelt next to it and watched it for a moment. He pet the large head, and it made his hand look small. “I’m sorry, old friend,” he whispered. “It was your time… You lived a great life, but I couldn’t let you take my friend’s life. He’s got a girl waiting for him…”

He swallowed. He hoped the boy would live.

Gael shook his head. He thanked the cat for its role in the jungle and he quickly got started on its skin. He stripped the pelt from its neck to its haunch and draped it to the side. He prodded the exposed meat with his finger, but it was hard and mildly discolored from the lack of nutrition. He judged that the cat was beginning to starve, since it didn’t have much meat on its ribs or shoulders. He left it there, letting the jungle reclaim its body.

He returned to their camp by the river, finding Eleia and Hamon both kneeling beside Felic. The boy was on his back and whimpering. Hamon was pressing a shirt against his chest. Eleia was rubbing some leaves together in her hands. Her eyes were tight and her teeth were clenched.

Gael walked over. He looked down at the boy. His chest was covered in blood, and his hand was limp below the bloody bite. There were more spots of blood on his opposite hip and side. He was breathing shallow, teeth clenched and eyes closed. Eleia glanced up at him. She saw the pelt on his shoulder and blinked. “You killed…?”

Andrien watched, brow tight. “Will he live?” he asked Eleia.

Eleia glanced at him. “I will try. Lots of blood. The bite is deep.”

Gael exhaled. “Let me get there. Give me that plant.”

Hamon frowned, looking up at him. “What are you gonna do? There’s not much we can do right now, not without a hot iron.”

“I know. I’ll do what I can.”

Andrien blinked. “What are you talking about?”

Eleia shifted to the side. She held out the crumpled plant to him. “Will you try magic?”

Hamon puffed. “Magic?! Men can’t do magic.”

Gael grimaced and looked down. He took a deep breath and focused on the boy. He held the plant in his left hand, the same side where he wore his crystal, and he placed his right hand over the bite wound on Felic’s arm. He closed his eyes and whispered, “Please let this work…” He imagined sending his own strength and energy into the boy’s wound. The fibers of his flesh merging. The blood ceasing its outward flow. The wounds shrinking and sealing. He panted softly as he focused, feeling his fingertips tingling where they touched Felic’s arm. The crystal flickered and glowed. A bead of sweat formed on his brow. He heard Andrien gasp and Hamon swear. Felic’s breathing slowed down and his whimpers turned into weary moans.

Gael groaned, lifting his hand and opening his eyes when he felt someone touch his arm. Eleia squeezed his arm slightly. “The blood is slow. You helped.” Gael watched Felic. The boy was relaxing, going limp where they had laid him. But he was still breathing, shallow but steady.

“What the hell was that?” Hamon blurted.

Gael met his gaze. The man’s eyes were wide and shimmering, lips parted. Gael took a second to regain his breath better. He licked his lip and sighed softly. “I haven’t been completely honest with you. With anyone from the expedition.” He swallowed and lifted his braids, revealing the subtle point to his ears.

“Elf,” Andrien muttered. His tone was kinder.

Gael lowered the braids again. “Half. My father was Genver. My mother was what your people call wildling. I am capable of some magic. Not much, as I was never trained properly, but I can do enough when the need arises.”

Andriend smirked. “So that’s how you saved her from Mauger. When he staggered. It was you.”

Gael nodded. He bit his lip, chewing on it hard. He let go of a shaky breath. “The others cannot know. For any reason. Especially Eduoard –”

“Bah! I don’t have to tell that dumb bastard anything. And as far as I’m concerned, I reckon you’ve saved more lives than he’s killed. Your actions speak for you.”

Hamon was quiet. He swallowed. Gael looked at him. It was harder to read him, but the man was still tense and wide-eyed. He finally swallowed and nodded. “You definitely fooled me. I never would have picked you for an elf. Well… a half elf.”

Gael nodded. “As far as I care, I’m wild, and since the expedition hails from Astredine… that’s all anyone needs to know.”

“And you’re honorable,” Andrien added.

Hamon nodded. “That’s all that matters.”

They settled down to camp. Eleia used strips from the men’s shirts, sinew, and more crushed herbs to bandage the remnants of Felic’s wounds. He rested quietly, not responding to much around him, so they elected to stay where they were for a time. Although Gael’s magic had healed the worst of his wounds, the boy was still weak and could succumb without proper rest or care. They built a shelter around him and got a fire going, the heat of the flames and the cat’s pelt keeping him warm and comfortable.

Eleia stepped out of the shelter. “He sleeps good,” she told the men. She sat down next to Gael, and her eyes twinkled. “You are brave. Both of you are brave. Not many men kill sad’uwe.”

Andrien chuckled softly. “Well, we weren’t going to let that thing kill Felic. He’s got his whole life to live.”

Eleia smiled. She nodded. “You are saya now. You can be… chief.”

Andrien laughed softly and rubbed his head. “I don’t know about that, now. A chief, you say?”

Gael smiled thinly. “It’s no different than being named captain or commander. One more step, and you’re the main man.”

Eleia nodded. “Sad’uwe is the man-killer. When man kills him, it is… very good.” Her eyes danced a little. Her thoughts brushed his. You keep his skin. That is good too.

Gael nodded. “Well, maybe his skin will give Felic some strength.”

Eleia nodded. The group sat in silence for a few minutes. The sky was almost dark. Andrien sighed. “Well… I’m going to lay down. I’ve had enough adventure for one day.”

Hamon huffed softly. “I’ll see what I can catch us to eat for the morning.”

The two men left them alone by the fire. Andrien laid down inside the shelter, near the boy, and Hamon busied himself with a trap in the brush. Eleia smiled at Gael and held out her hand to him. Gael looked at her hand and blinked, cocking a brow at her. She scoffed a laugh. “Give me your hand! You did not fix it! You fight without it!”

Gael groaned at that, rolling his eyes. They all laughed softly.

That night, she kept watch over Felic. She checked his wounds, satisfied that they were no longer bleeding. But his cheeks were pale, and he breathed slowly and shallowly. He was quiet though, and rested peacefully. Eleia shed a tear as she watched him. Gael heard her sniffle and peeked in at her. She was whispering to the boy and fixing the fur coat so it was around his shoulders, completely covering him. Gael heard the word Fleur. He sighed softly and entered the shelter. It was getting cramped with all of them in there. He sat next to her and laid his hand on her shoulder.

“You were not wrong to be angry,” he whispered to her. “What we went through… was terrifying. I’m sure many died or were injured. And he’s a kind boy. I know he forgives you.”

Eleia sniffled. She released a soft shudder of a breath. “Fleur loves him. She needs him. And I was wrong to him…”

Gael wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Hey, hush now. He’s going to be okay. He’s young but he’s strong. He has a lot to live for. And if there’s anyone here who can help him… it’s you.” He touched her cheek and made her look up at him. “You know more about this land than I do. I’ve seen you help him before, when he cut his hand. You know what to do, and you have the power to do it. Okay?” He wiped the tears off her cheek with his thumb. “He’s going to live. I believe it, because I believe in you.”

Eleia sniffled. She cried softly and sank into his chest. She curled up against him. He had refused to stay by her when she cried last time. He held her this time, letting her cry against him. He rocked her gently and stroked her back and hair, shushing her gently until they both fell asleep.