1217-09-01
Gold Haoai:
"I hate September," Helm says.
We continue sailing. The temperature does not change much, which is good. Helm seems worried we would not be used to the heat or something of the sort.
"Why is that?" I ask while feeding Norah.
The rest of the crew sleeps, adjusting to the warmth. In truth, we could have arrived here a few days earlier, but now the edge of Sha'tar comes into view.
We made it.
I would be lying if I said I trusted Helm the entire way.
"When I worked for the king, I made a mistake I wish I could take back," Helm admits quietly. "That month is my reminder of it."
"You do not open up often. What did you do under Milton?"
"He sent me to attack and kill Addo of Ghar."
Helm nods.
"Why did he want you to?"
"I did not end up killing him, but when I was freed. I stayed to ensure the plan continued. His generals wanted him to kill me to show Ghar was not afraid, but he did not. Because he did not, they betrayed him, dividing his land. Land disputes never end well."
"In Csolis we were always taught that Ghar restarted the conflict when Addo died. That Addo died of natural causes." I say.
"The other tribe leaders attacked themselves. If we had not attacked first, Addo would still be alive. At the time, I wondered why Milton wanted me to."
"It is not your fault," I tell him. "You were following orders."
"It is not like I can say I was unsure. I knew what I was doing. I did not think a small attack would snowball into such a large conflict. Millions of Ghars have died. For what?"
"I am sure they will reunite eventually."
"I am not so sure," Helm replies. "If they were to reunite, it would require someone more powerful than Ghar has ever seen."
"The tribes lost more than unity that day. The savana lost more than unity that day. They lost their ruler."
We fall silent, thinking about how our countries' actions ripple outward.
"When we were allied with Khiz, we pushed them into war. Look how far that has taken them. We call them allies but do nothing for them. They continue to fight year after year. Even the short break they had did not last. If the world is going to improve, the next generation must be stronger than us. The age of soldiers needs to end if peace is ever to come."
"They already are." Helm says.
"I'm happy you think so."
"I have seen many battles and countless conflicts, and I know for certain that we keep changing. Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse."
I thought to myself, though to be honest, I don't want to see Norah forced to fight. I don't want the future to be constant battles for power, people threatening to end the world, or rulers grasping for complete control. I want peace.
"What are you thinking about?" he says with a laugh. "I am too old to keep secrets."
It is easy to forget how old some of them are. White hair is not always a sign of age here. It is common now.
"These powers that have been discovered," I murmur, "Lion's Armor in Pallas, Spirit perfected in Tobe, edicts and old power from the Hundred Year War, dragon pacts and training…"
"The world is changing," Helm agrees. "When I was in the palace, Milton often spoke about the end of the age of soldiers. He believes the strongest people will be those who embrace these powers. He wants to stand at the pinnacle when this happens. That is why he does what he does."
"His spirit is already powerful," I say. "Being able to see other souls, their powers, and more importantly what they will become. That is dangerous."
Helm leans back, his face lit by the lantern. "We need people like that too. Whether through pacts or something else."
"No matter what path Norah chooses, I will be by her side."
We make it to the outer circle of Sha'tar. The sun hangs high in the sky. I shield my eyes. I am used to brightness. Not like this. It is different from the blinding white of snow. This light feels alive.
The shadows are sharp, the grass glowing beneath them. It is a feeling I have missed.
I slip off the crude sandals. I had been given them during my time in prison. I press my bare feet to the ground. I let the grass brush against my skin. I sank into it.
FLAP.
The air feels warm, warmer than it had even a few hundred meters out at sea. Warmer than anything I've ever felt in Marano, warmer than anything in Kiz, warmer than anything in Nor.
Is this the power of the dragon, Horus? I smile at the thought.
I hold Norah close. Her silver hair glimmers in the sunlight. I notice her eyes have changed into a pure white.
FLAP.
A dragon descends before us. Its scales shimmer the color of sand, deep and golden, different from the lush green lands surrounding us.
The seven of us gather on the shore as the dragon lands. A rider slides down from its back.
Helm bows before the soldiers waiting there.
The rider removes his helmet. His skin is brown. His black hair cropped short.
Helm bows again to the man, and the rest of us follow.
I tightened my grip on my cloak. I try not to let the nervous energy crawl up my spine. Helm's calm presence at my side helped. He couldn't entirely hide the tension in the air.
Leader stepped forward. His shoulders are straight.
"We request an audience with the Queen," he said. His voice is firm.
The soldier stepped in front of us. His armor glinted in the harsh sunlight. He frowned, eyes scanning each of us.
"You can't just walk in like that," he said. "We don't allow strangers. There could be assassins, spies, anyone pretending to be who they're not. You could be anyone."
I feel irritated though I understand. "We only seek the Queen. Nothing more."
Books, standing stiffly beside me, crossed her arms. Her gray eyes were steady, unreadable.
"We mean no harm," she added. "We've come a long way."
The soldier's gaze shifted. His eyes finally landed on Norah. My chest tightened as I realized he was staring at her. The small, pale girl with her silver hair gleaming in the sunlight. His expression changed.
Suspicion to curiosity.
"Where are you from?" he asked. His voice softened slightly. He looked at our icy skin.
The cold seemed to cling to us even in the warmth of the sun.
"Eleanor," Dara answered. Her voice is quiet.
I caught a flicker in the soldier's eyes. The world seemed to shrink down to the small group of us. We stood under the sun, waiting for his next move.
Another figure arrived. A general this time. Tall, imposing, eyes sharp and assessing. He looked at us. He scanned each face in silence. He stopped at Norah.
His gaze lingered on her hair. I felt a protectiveness.
"What happened to your hair?" the general finally asked. "Why is it white?"
White, I thought. I'd call it silver. Silver, the color of our hair, is nothing like snow. Snow is cold, biting, a frozen blanket we see every day. Snow is white. Those unaccustomed might call it white, but it is different. Only Norah's eyes had a hint of change, turning almost white. She is truly special.
"An effect of the cold climate," Dara said quietly.
"We need to speak with the Queen," I added. "Maranona intends to kill and slaughter my people. We need protection. We can offer what assistance you might need."
The general nodded slowly. "Show me."
Helm pulled something from his pocket while Leader stepped toward the boat. The soldier beside them stopped, studying the item carefully.
"The blue is different from ours," he said.
"How much of this do you have?" the general asked.
"We wish to speak with the Queen," Books reiterated.
The general's eyes widened slightly. He stepped back, a silent acknowledgment passing between him and the soldiers.
"Follow me. I'll take you to a place where you can sleep. You'll be safe there tonight."
Helm nodded respectfully. Leader inclined his head. I felt a wave of relief wash over me.
I looked at Norah. Her white hair danced in the wind. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the sunlight. I held her lightly. The warmth of her body against mine grounding me.
We each mounted a dragon. I could feel the general's eyes on us. They lingering for a moment before he turns and walks away.
I swallowed and tightened my grip on Norah.
The soldiers below murmured among themselves, their gazes lingering on the strange group with hair like frost.
I didn't care.