Chapter 1, The Beginning
A soft, salty breeze flew through the open windows of the carriage as it rattled on the cobbled streets. Tendrils of early morning fog swept out of the way as it moved forward. Inside the carriage sat men and women half-sleeping, tired after a nights work. They were dressed in simple brown clothing, as they looked out of the windows they filled with satisfaction. The clean streets proof of their hard work. They didn’t pay attention to the young man slipping inside his home, clothes wet from morning dew.
The small room was cold and dark. No fire was burning in the hearth and the boards blocked the pale light of dawn. With fingers stiff from cold Eléen freed himself from the damp robes. The pearls in his brown hair rattled as he moved around. He hadn’t been able to sleep again last night. In the end he had roamed the streets all night, hoping to find solace in the silence of the sleeping city. To no avail. Ever since the new of his father he hadn’t been able to sleep properly. The bay of the great city protected against hard weather and the mountains hampered any storm. Yet his father’s ship had sunken, taking crew and passengers down into the deep.
Outside he could hear the sounds of the city waking up. Feet against ground, subdued talking and the rattling of carriages carrying people to their work. Freed from the robes he let them fall to the floor and flopped down on his bed. Pulling the blanket over his shoulder he stared blankly at the wall. His sister had called him the day before, asking him to meet her in the noon. He scratched at his beard. With all likelihood she would complain about his beard again, being aghast at his clothing and complain about his laziness. Nothing new. It wasn’t that she didn’t respect people wearing robes and growing beards, their father had loved both, she just couldn’t stand seeing it on him. The noise from the streets lulled him and made him slowly drift toward sleep.
***
He woke to the noon-bell towing loudly over the city. Half-dazed he almost tripped out of bed and steadied himself before falling to the floor. Ignoring his rumbling stomach he rushed to the bowl, filled it with water and quickly washed his face. He ran through his hair with wet hands, forcing it to lay flat. His favourite robes was properly folded on top of a chair, the soft fabric whispered as he wrapped it around himself. A soft peachy colour that shifted in the light. His sandals were still damp from the nights walking so he slipped into his slippers and hurried through the door. The street were busy and filled with bustling people. Running the best he could, he hurried toward the carriage sitting outside the bakery’s door.
Just as the carriage started moving he grabbed one handle and heaved himself on board. Inside sat three other. He seated himself at the corner closest to the door. No one paid any attention to him. While not many men clothed themselves like him, it wasn’t unusual either. The women seated opposite to him wore loose trousers in a brown colour and the man in the other corner had a simple white shirt on. Eléen touched the beads in his hair. Normally they would have been woven into his beard but his father had complied when he wanted it different.
The carriage travelled slowly through the packed street towards the centre. Eléen looked out the window and as always marvelled at the beauty of the city. Alcan was the capital city of the country of Alcande, land of freedom and prosperity. Its wealth coming mostly from trade, merchants from all over the world gathered in the wharfs of Alcande. Ruled by the council which was led by the Seer. A ruler chosen by the people to rule for five years. The council itself consisting of men and women from the different guilds within the city, all chosen by their members. Eléen stared with awe at the tall towers and fluted buildings that lined the road. Every house in the city was built of the same white stone, making the city shine brightly during the day. Large building were common and their architecture magnificent. Despite being born and raised in the city, Eléen could still appreciate the beauty of it.
The crowed thinned as they moved closer to the centre, the other passengers dropped off and left him alone. At last the carriage stopped in front of a great, round tower piercing the sky. He jumped down from the carriage and began walking the marble steps, still ignoring the rumblings of his empty stomach.
Tall windows lit up the white stone corridor, finely woven tapestries hung on the walls, depicting scenes from everyday life. The floor was naked, some of the stones had symbols engraved to them. Eléen counted them carefully as he made his way toward the study. The doors were deceivingly alike without anything to distinguish them. Just as he counted the fourteenth tile he noticed the study-door standing slightly open. He pushed it open a bit further and slipped through silently.
A women were standing in front of an open window, looking out, not yet noticing him. Taller than most men and slender, the woman was striking. High cheekbones accented the soft lines that made her face. Deep blue eyes shaped as an almond was frames by hair so brown it almost looked black. From her ears hung dyed feathers in small chains, making the feathers rest slightly against her shoulders. She wore the latest of fashion among women. The dress was sleeveless and hung loosely around her neck, layers of finest silk falling to the floor. The top layers was attached to rings worn on the middle finger, lifting it from the floor and making the lower layers more visible. She was a true beauty, his sister, and just sometimes he envied her.
The door closed behind him and she turned. Despite her enjoyment of fashion she was a sharp and intelligent woman. Many had been deceived by her looks and thought her less of thought. They never did so twice. Karla was the leader of the council and chosen by the people as the Seer. She had already ruled Alcande for two years and most people assumed she would be re-elected. Now she smiled at his and gestured that he would step in further. Eléen did so cautiously.
“You are late”, she said. “It’s already past noon.”
“It’s not, the second noon bell haven’t even towed yet”, he said defiantly. Karla raised a brow but didn’t say anything. “What do you want?”
“Are you doing alright, Eléen?” she asked. “You look pale and I bet you haven’t eaten.”
“I’m fine! Just tell me why you summoned me already!”
She sighed. “Very well. I want to ask you, on the behalf of the council, to become an ambassador for Alcande.”
He stared at her, his mouth slowly opening, not believing his ears. “What are you saying? Me? An ambassador? No way would that work.”
“Easy, Eléen. Listen to me before you refuse”, he folded his arms and waited. “Alcande and the kingdom of Ilsa have had diplomatic contact for quite a while now but we have yet to send a representative to each other. Ilsa have a great culture and rich mines but they lack trade paths.”
“What have that to do with me?”
“Patience, Eléen. As you know Alcande is the nave of the continents trading but little of it actually stays here. Ilsa want to improve their trade routes and we want more of the merchandise to be traded with the people of Alcande, as well as encouraging our people to engage in trade themselves.”
Eléen looked at the floor, here the stone were covered with dark wood. He hardly listened to her. No matter the reason, he probably wouldn’t be able to actually refuse. If their father had still been alive it might have been different. Because he was the younger brother of the Seer it was expected of him to aid her in her work. He had assisted a few times before, usually with paperwork. Even if he went, he would probably only be the figurehead. Some clerks would do the real work and he would be pleasant while buttering up the other party.
Karla had stopped speaking and was looking at him intensely. She already knew his answer, he was sure of it. Just waiting for him to say it.
“Fine, I do it”, he sighed. “When do I leave?”
“In about a week”, she answered. “We need to ready the ship and make proper preparations.”
“Ship? I will go by boat?”
“Unless you want to try to climb the mountains?” her tone conveyed how ridiculous she thought it was. True, the bay was usually safe from storms and few ships had sunken. Usually. Just a few weeks before, their father’s ship had for some reason disappeared. There were no signs of it or anyone on it. Surely she hadn’t forgotten that?
“It will be fine, at most you will be on the sea for four days, probably less”, she said reassuringly. So, no other choice then. Eléen sighed and shifted were he stood. “One other thing.”
“What?” he asked, tired and hungry.
“Shave off your beard before the ship set sails.”
He felt heat rush to his face. “Why?” he demanded. “Why are you so against this? These clothes are traditional, they’ve been worn for generations.”
“Calm down, Eléen. I asked you to shave your beard, not take of or change your clothes. Your clothes is fine.”
“Why?” he demanded again. “Why should I do that?”
“Because it doesn’t suits you”, she answered simply. “You have inherited mother’s looks even more strongly than I have. That you chose to hide it beneath that beard is such a shame. I just want you to look your best when they receive you in Ilsa.”
“But…the tradition…”
“Doesn’t include having a beard. Your robes are lovely, Eléen, but your beard isn’t.”
***
She watched him from the windows as he walked down the stairs to the streets. To her relief he walked over to a nearby street vendor and bought something. The rumblings of his stomach had been loud enough that she had heard them. Soon he had climbed inside a carriage that disappeared down the street. The carriages had been her idea when she just had joined the council. The others would be happy to know that her brother had agreed to sail to Ilsa. He didn’t understand why it was so important that he would go. Then, she had another reason why she wanted him to go. He thought she didn’t know.
It had hit them both very hard to suddenly lose their father. He had been a centre in their lives, guiding and helping them. To Eléen it had been devastating. He wasn’t the kind of person to make it on his own and she wasn’t the kind to abandon her own goals in order to help someone else. She couldn’t help him, because she didn’t know how.
Karla turned from the open window and sat down by her desk, setting the pen to the paper but didn’t write. Few of Alcande ever left the country, those who did were usually merchants or sailors. The kind of people to respect tradition but not following it themselves. Eléen on the other hand tried to preserve them, honour them. The traditional robes did suit him. How the people of Ilsa would react to him was another matter completely. If she truly thought of her country, she would have sent someone else. She did however have another reason to send her brother. She wanted him to get away from everything. Give him a chance to think of other things, meet new people and maybe even falling in love. Of course the council would send some people afterwards to handle the more practical parts of the deal. For now, he would be on his own.
***
He sat down heavily on the bed, the blanket were still thrown to the side after the abrupt wakening in the noon. Eléen sighed. He already regretted agreeing to his sisters plans. Travel to an unknown kingdom, meeting who knew what kind of people. Not that staying was any easier. He lifted his hands, turning them slowly. His father had called it an ancient gift. Pointing at the empty hearth he concentrated on heat. As on demand small flame shot up, flickered feebly and then died. It scared him. What he could do. Not even his sister knew and he feared to find out that his gift was the limits of Alcande’s tolerance.
He lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Maybe leaving wasn’t such a bad thing. That way, no one would ever find out. If he could stop using his gift he would, he had tried. With no avail. The sweet, surging sensation that he felt every time he used it was to addicting.
His father had tried to help him. He had spent days buried in the old records in the library, searching for ways to help his son use his gift. By now, Eléen knew the old teachings by heart. To use his gift was easy but controlling it was not. What if he went overboard? Every time things had gone badly in the past his father had been there to help him. Not so anymore.
Tears trickled down his cheeks and a sob escaped his lips. He was so tired. So tired that even sleep didn’t help anymore. A wreck. That what was he had become.
Outside the evening bell towed.
***
Windweaver was a rather large ship, three tall masts stretched towards the sky. The gunwale was high and hull massive. To Daren Shera it was the most beautiful ship to sail the seas. She was his pride and joy. At the moment wares and supplies were carried on-board, they would sail with the next tide. Two of his sailors carried aboard a large ornament chest. Which meant their passenger was on his way. He had been asked by the local council to deliver the passenger to the kingdom of Ilsa. They had paid handsomely so he hadn’t protested. Of course, if it had been a woman he would refused. Sailors on sea shouldn’t sea women, it would make them stupid.
At that moment a figure dressed in pale blue stepped on to the deck. It took Daren a few seconds to realize the person in question were actually a man. Light brown hair with pearls and beads plaited into it, brown eyes and a face with soft, gentle lines. The young man looked around and saw Daren standing to the side, idle. He approached timidly. What Daren had first thought of as a dress seemed to be robes in soft linen. Leaving the arm bare it reached down towards the ground, only just not touching his feet.
“Captain?” the young man’s voice was pleasant and he spoke softly. “Um…I look forward to traveling with you.”
Daren looked closely at the young man’s face and noticed signs of strain, perhaps even fear. At once he felt compassionate towards the youngling. He had seen it before, the fear born from losing someone to the sea. There wasn’t really a way to reassure him either. You could never be certain when traveling, that you wouldn’t be next.
“What’s your name, laddie?” he asked, making his voice cheerful.
“Eléen”, answered the youngling, looking at the largest mast.
“Heh, a fancy name for one such as you.”
“One such as me?” Eléen turned to him raising an eyebrow.
“You know, men that wants to be women.”
“This is a traditional robe originally worn by both men and women”, the youngling said icily. “Besides, in Alcande, we think people are allowed to live any way the desire.”
Daren shook his head slightly. He had already sailed the seas for two decades, young ones would always be the most prideful. Still, curiosity still tended to get the best of him so he couldn’t help but ask. “So you don’t want to be a woman than?”
“I’m perfectly happy being a man”, said Eléen, showing annoyance. “I would like to be showed to my cabin now.”
***
The roof of the cabin jumped at his eyes as he woke up with a start. He was breathing heavily, his hand was shaking hard and his heart pumped painfully in his chest. Eléen tried to shake of the nightmare that still threatened to swallow his mind. He tried to sit up when his bed lurched and he was pressed down. Confused he looked around, suddenly remembering that he was on a ship and not at home. He was lying in a hammock that rocked gently as the ship weaved through the waves.
Eléen swallowed and struggled to get out of the hammock. With a low thud did he manage to fall to the floor. His hands and knees ached slightly from the impact. He felt blind. There were no light and the darkness compact. He could make out shapes in the dark but not much else. Staggering he made for the cabin door and onto the deck. Sweat ran from his forehead down to his chin, making him shiver in the cold night air. Only a few sailors were up on deck. They travelled slowly in the light wind, staying on course using the stars. Eléen had read stories about sailors navigating on the seas even through storms. He didn’t really believe them. One sailor saw him but shrugged and ignored him.
Eléen began walking along the gunwale, almost tripping every time the ship dipped. Desperately he tried to clear his head of the dreams. As always they were jumbled together and impossible to interpretive even a little. Consisting mostly of sounds and flashing, distorted, images. Usually a long walk could ward of the dreams but on a confined space like the ship it was impossible. So he simply sat down at the bow and looked out on the dark waters. Every wave had a slight silver lining when the moon shone on them. It was a waning moon, the light weak. The stars glittered above his head. Determined to not fall asleep he focused his eyes on the point where the starry sky was swallowed by the dark sea.
Slowly a calm settled over him. Despite the chill he felt surprisingly satisfied. High above a star twinkled at him.
***
He was still sitting at the bow when the captain found him. The first light of dawn was already staining the water red. Seabirds flew in formation amongst the clouds. Eléen wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing and could feel the captain halt and stare at him. The startled expression of the captain almost made him laugh. Instead he faked a cough and turned around, pretending he had heard the older man approaching.
“So it is you after all”, the captain breathed. “I couldn’t recognize you. Where’s your robes?”
“I don’t usually sleep in my robes”, Eléen replied softly, distracted by the rising sun.
“Sleep in…” the captain’s mouth slowly dropped, forming a circle. “You have been awake all night?”
The incredulous voice of the elderly man made Eléen stop gazing at the scenery and stand up. He shrugged, now that the dawn had arrived he felt really tired. “I had nightmares”, he answered simply walking past the captain towards his cabin. “I will sleep now.”
The captain followed him with his gaze, noting that the youngling didn’t stagger or trip as he made his way down the ship. Only the day before had the young man struggled to walk on deck. How he suddenly moved better than most sailors was a mystery.
Eléen was almost sleepwalking by the time he reached his cabin. He looked tiredly at the hammock, took the pillow and the blankets, placed them on the floor and lay down. Soon exhaustion swept him away towards deep, dreamless sleep.
***
A week later he was eating his breakfast in his usual place at the bow. The sailors paid him no mind, they were used to him spending most of his time in silent contemplation. Some of them had even started to assume he was some sort of monk due to his never ending robes. He had been told they would arrive at port of Sirrela later the same day so he had done his favourite robes in soft peach.
He didn’t think about the port city or the kingdom of Ilsa at that moment. Instead his thoughts were deep under the sea. The quiet depth with a wide variety of fish swimming around, the light from the sun reaching down to the shallow reefs. To his mind, it looked beautiful. Footsteps awoke him from his deep thoughts. The captain were approaching him with a gentle smile on his face.
“We will arrive at Sirrela in about an hour”, the older man said. “You can already see the lighthouse on top of the cliff.” Eléen followed the pointed finger and saw a tall tower in the distance.
“What is its purpose?” he asked.
“It is to guide ships so they may not run onto a reef during dark and stormy nights.” The captain smiled. “We called it ‘The Sailor’s Friend’. The citizens of Sirrela calls it The Tower of Archella. No matter the name, it still does the same thing.”
Eléen squinted, trying to see more of the tall tower but it was too far away. The captain patted his shoulder and suggested he would start packing so they could unload his luggage the moment they arrived at the wharf. Eléen took his advice and went to put away his things.
***
A group of people was waiting as the ship came to a halt. The messenger that had brought the news about Alcande’s new ambassador clearly intended to return on the very same ship said ambassador had just arrived in. Sailors started carrying a couple of large chests from the deck to the wharf. A young man followed, the wind making the light cloth of his robes flutter in the wind. The messenger didn’t take any notice of the youngling’s appearance. While becoming an increasingly rare sight he had still seen enough men in similar clothing to think it was strange.
Not so for the various noblemen assembled at the harbour. They had never seen a man in such strange clothes before. Together with a soft face and gentle brown eyes the young man could easily be mistaken for a women. Even the way he moved had an elegance to it that seemed beyond human. The noblemen quickly schooled their faces and greeted the young ambassador with grace and warmth. Secretly hoping that he would carry word to their honourable ruler about their curtesy and welcoming so that they may receive good tidings from the capital. Perhaps even an invitation to join the royal court.
None of the assembled noblemen paid any attention to the fact that their high-class guest during the whole spectacle did in fact not utter a single word.
The small room was cold and dark. No fire was burning in the hearth and the boards blocked the pale light of dawn. With fingers stiff from cold Eléen freed himself from the damp robes. The pearls in his brown hair rattled as he moved around. He hadn’t been able to sleep again last night. In the end he had roamed the streets all night, hoping to find solace in the silence of the sleeping city. To no avail. Ever since the new of his father he hadn’t been able to sleep properly. The bay of the great city protected against hard weather and the mountains hampered any storm. Yet his father’s ship had sunken, taking crew and passengers down into the deep.
Outside he could hear the sounds of the city waking up. Feet against ground, subdued talking and the rattling of carriages carrying people to their work. Freed from the robes he let them fall to the floor and flopped down on his bed. Pulling the blanket over his shoulder he stared blankly at the wall. His sister had called him the day before, asking him to meet her in the noon. He scratched at his beard. With all likelihood she would complain about his beard again, being aghast at his clothing and complain about his laziness. Nothing new. It wasn’t that she didn’t respect people wearing robes and growing beards, their father had loved both, she just couldn’t stand seeing it on him. The noise from the streets lulled him and made him slowly drift toward sleep.
***
He woke to the noon-bell towing loudly over the city. Half-dazed he almost tripped out of bed and steadied himself before falling to the floor. Ignoring his rumbling stomach he rushed to the bowl, filled it with water and quickly washed his face. He ran through his hair with wet hands, forcing it to lay flat. His favourite robes was properly folded on top of a chair, the soft fabric whispered as he wrapped it around himself. A soft peachy colour that shifted in the light. His sandals were still damp from the nights walking so he slipped into his slippers and hurried through the door. The street were busy and filled with bustling people. Running the best he could, he hurried toward the carriage sitting outside the bakery’s door.
Just as the carriage started moving he grabbed one handle and heaved himself on board. Inside sat three other. He seated himself at the corner closest to the door. No one paid any attention to him. While not many men clothed themselves like him, it wasn’t unusual either. The women seated opposite to him wore loose trousers in a brown colour and the man in the other corner had a simple white shirt on. Eléen touched the beads in his hair. Normally they would have been woven into his beard but his father had complied when he wanted it different.
The carriage travelled slowly through the packed street towards the centre. Eléen looked out the window and as always marvelled at the beauty of the city. Alcan was the capital city of the country of Alcande, land of freedom and prosperity. Its wealth coming mostly from trade, merchants from all over the world gathered in the wharfs of Alcande. Ruled by the council which was led by the Seer. A ruler chosen by the people to rule for five years. The council itself consisting of men and women from the different guilds within the city, all chosen by their members. Eléen stared with awe at the tall towers and fluted buildings that lined the road. Every house in the city was built of the same white stone, making the city shine brightly during the day. Large building were common and their architecture magnificent. Despite being born and raised in the city, Eléen could still appreciate the beauty of it.
The crowed thinned as they moved closer to the centre, the other passengers dropped off and left him alone. At last the carriage stopped in front of a great, round tower piercing the sky. He jumped down from the carriage and began walking the marble steps, still ignoring the rumblings of his empty stomach.
Tall windows lit up the white stone corridor, finely woven tapestries hung on the walls, depicting scenes from everyday life. The floor was naked, some of the stones had symbols engraved to them. Eléen counted them carefully as he made his way toward the study. The doors were deceivingly alike without anything to distinguish them. Just as he counted the fourteenth tile he noticed the study-door standing slightly open. He pushed it open a bit further and slipped through silently.
A women were standing in front of an open window, looking out, not yet noticing him. Taller than most men and slender, the woman was striking. High cheekbones accented the soft lines that made her face. Deep blue eyes shaped as an almond was frames by hair so brown it almost looked black. From her ears hung dyed feathers in small chains, making the feathers rest slightly against her shoulders. She wore the latest of fashion among women. The dress was sleeveless and hung loosely around her neck, layers of finest silk falling to the floor. The top layers was attached to rings worn on the middle finger, lifting it from the floor and making the lower layers more visible. She was a true beauty, his sister, and just sometimes he envied her.
The door closed behind him and she turned. Despite her enjoyment of fashion she was a sharp and intelligent woman. Many had been deceived by her looks and thought her less of thought. They never did so twice. Karla was the leader of the council and chosen by the people as the Seer. She had already ruled Alcande for two years and most people assumed she would be re-elected. Now she smiled at his and gestured that he would step in further. Eléen did so cautiously.
“You are late”, she said. “It’s already past noon.”
“It’s not, the second noon bell haven’t even towed yet”, he said defiantly. Karla raised a brow but didn’t say anything. “What do you want?”
“Are you doing alright, Eléen?” she asked. “You look pale and I bet you haven’t eaten.”
“I’m fine! Just tell me why you summoned me already!”
She sighed. “Very well. I want to ask you, on the behalf of the council, to become an ambassador for Alcande.”
He stared at her, his mouth slowly opening, not believing his ears. “What are you saying? Me? An ambassador? No way would that work.”
“Easy, Eléen. Listen to me before you refuse”, he folded his arms and waited. “Alcande and the kingdom of Ilsa have had diplomatic contact for quite a while now but we have yet to send a representative to each other. Ilsa have a great culture and rich mines but they lack trade paths.”
“What have that to do with me?”
“Patience, Eléen. As you know Alcande is the nave of the continents trading but little of it actually stays here. Ilsa want to improve their trade routes and we want more of the merchandise to be traded with the people of Alcande, as well as encouraging our people to engage in trade themselves.”
Eléen looked at the floor, here the stone were covered with dark wood. He hardly listened to her. No matter the reason, he probably wouldn’t be able to actually refuse. If their father had still been alive it might have been different. Because he was the younger brother of the Seer it was expected of him to aid her in her work. He had assisted a few times before, usually with paperwork. Even if he went, he would probably only be the figurehead. Some clerks would do the real work and he would be pleasant while buttering up the other party.
Karla had stopped speaking and was looking at him intensely. She already knew his answer, he was sure of it. Just waiting for him to say it.
“Fine, I do it”, he sighed. “When do I leave?”
“In about a week”, she answered. “We need to ready the ship and make proper preparations.”
“Ship? I will go by boat?”
“Unless you want to try to climb the mountains?” her tone conveyed how ridiculous she thought it was. True, the bay was usually safe from storms and few ships had sunken. Usually. Just a few weeks before, their father’s ship had for some reason disappeared. There were no signs of it or anyone on it. Surely she hadn’t forgotten that?
“It will be fine, at most you will be on the sea for four days, probably less”, she said reassuringly. So, no other choice then. Eléen sighed and shifted were he stood. “One other thing.”
“What?” he asked, tired and hungry.
“Shave off your beard before the ship set sails.”
He felt heat rush to his face. “Why?” he demanded. “Why are you so against this? These clothes are traditional, they’ve been worn for generations.”
“Calm down, Eléen. I asked you to shave your beard, not take of or change your clothes. Your clothes is fine.”
“Why?” he demanded again. “Why should I do that?”
“Because it doesn’t suits you”, she answered simply. “You have inherited mother’s looks even more strongly than I have. That you chose to hide it beneath that beard is such a shame. I just want you to look your best when they receive you in Ilsa.”
“But…the tradition…”
“Doesn’t include having a beard. Your robes are lovely, Eléen, but your beard isn’t.”
***
She watched him from the windows as he walked down the stairs to the streets. To her relief he walked over to a nearby street vendor and bought something. The rumblings of his stomach had been loud enough that she had heard them. Soon he had climbed inside a carriage that disappeared down the street. The carriages had been her idea when she just had joined the council. The others would be happy to know that her brother had agreed to sail to Ilsa. He didn’t understand why it was so important that he would go. Then, she had another reason why she wanted him to go. He thought she didn’t know.
It had hit them both very hard to suddenly lose their father. He had been a centre in their lives, guiding and helping them. To Eléen it had been devastating. He wasn’t the kind of person to make it on his own and she wasn’t the kind to abandon her own goals in order to help someone else. She couldn’t help him, because she didn’t know how.
Karla turned from the open window and sat down by her desk, setting the pen to the paper but didn’t write. Few of Alcande ever left the country, those who did were usually merchants or sailors. The kind of people to respect tradition but not following it themselves. Eléen on the other hand tried to preserve them, honour them. The traditional robes did suit him. How the people of Ilsa would react to him was another matter completely. If she truly thought of her country, she would have sent someone else. She did however have another reason to send her brother. She wanted him to get away from everything. Give him a chance to think of other things, meet new people and maybe even falling in love. Of course the council would send some people afterwards to handle the more practical parts of the deal. For now, he would be on his own.
***
He sat down heavily on the bed, the blanket were still thrown to the side after the abrupt wakening in the noon. Eléen sighed. He already regretted agreeing to his sisters plans. Travel to an unknown kingdom, meeting who knew what kind of people. Not that staying was any easier. He lifted his hands, turning them slowly. His father had called it an ancient gift. Pointing at the empty hearth he concentrated on heat. As on demand small flame shot up, flickered feebly and then died. It scared him. What he could do. Not even his sister knew and he feared to find out that his gift was the limits of Alcande’s tolerance.
He lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Maybe leaving wasn’t such a bad thing. That way, no one would ever find out. If he could stop using his gift he would, he had tried. With no avail. The sweet, surging sensation that he felt every time he used it was to addicting.
His father had tried to help him. He had spent days buried in the old records in the library, searching for ways to help his son use his gift. By now, Eléen knew the old teachings by heart. To use his gift was easy but controlling it was not. What if he went overboard? Every time things had gone badly in the past his father had been there to help him. Not so anymore.
Tears trickled down his cheeks and a sob escaped his lips. He was so tired. So tired that even sleep didn’t help anymore. A wreck. That what was he had become.
Outside the evening bell towed.
***
Windweaver was a rather large ship, three tall masts stretched towards the sky. The gunwale was high and hull massive. To Daren Shera it was the most beautiful ship to sail the seas. She was his pride and joy. At the moment wares and supplies were carried on-board, they would sail with the next tide. Two of his sailors carried aboard a large ornament chest. Which meant their passenger was on his way. He had been asked by the local council to deliver the passenger to the kingdom of Ilsa. They had paid handsomely so he hadn’t protested. Of course, if it had been a woman he would refused. Sailors on sea shouldn’t sea women, it would make them stupid.
At that moment a figure dressed in pale blue stepped on to the deck. It took Daren a few seconds to realize the person in question were actually a man. Light brown hair with pearls and beads plaited into it, brown eyes and a face with soft, gentle lines. The young man looked around and saw Daren standing to the side, idle. He approached timidly. What Daren had first thought of as a dress seemed to be robes in soft linen. Leaving the arm bare it reached down towards the ground, only just not touching his feet.
“Captain?” the young man’s voice was pleasant and he spoke softly. “Um…I look forward to traveling with you.”
Daren looked closely at the young man’s face and noticed signs of strain, perhaps even fear. At once he felt compassionate towards the youngling. He had seen it before, the fear born from losing someone to the sea. There wasn’t really a way to reassure him either. You could never be certain when traveling, that you wouldn’t be next.
“What’s your name, laddie?” he asked, making his voice cheerful.
“Eléen”, answered the youngling, looking at the largest mast.
“Heh, a fancy name for one such as you.”
“One such as me?” Eléen turned to him raising an eyebrow.
“You know, men that wants to be women.”
“This is a traditional robe originally worn by both men and women”, the youngling said icily. “Besides, in Alcande, we think people are allowed to live any way the desire.”
Daren shook his head slightly. He had already sailed the seas for two decades, young ones would always be the most prideful. Still, curiosity still tended to get the best of him so he couldn’t help but ask. “So you don’t want to be a woman than?”
“I’m perfectly happy being a man”, said Eléen, showing annoyance. “I would like to be showed to my cabin now.”
***
The roof of the cabin jumped at his eyes as he woke up with a start. He was breathing heavily, his hand was shaking hard and his heart pumped painfully in his chest. Eléen tried to shake of the nightmare that still threatened to swallow his mind. He tried to sit up when his bed lurched and he was pressed down. Confused he looked around, suddenly remembering that he was on a ship and not at home. He was lying in a hammock that rocked gently as the ship weaved through the waves.
Eléen swallowed and struggled to get out of the hammock. With a low thud did he manage to fall to the floor. His hands and knees ached slightly from the impact. He felt blind. There were no light and the darkness compact. He could make out shapes in the dark but not much else. Staggering he made for the cabin door and onto the deck. Sweat ran from his forehead down to his chin, making him shiver in the cold night air. Only a few sailors were up on deck. They travelled slowly in the light wind, staying on course using the stars. Eléen had read stories about sailors navigating on the seas even through storms. He didn’t really believe them. One sailor saw him but shrugged and ignored him.
Eléen began walking along the gunwale, almost tripping every time the ship dipped. Desperately he tried to clear his head of the dreams. As always they were jumbled together and impossible to interpretive even a little. Consisting mostly of sounds and flashing, distorted, images. Usually a long walk could ward of the dreams but on a confined space like the ship it was impossible. So he simply sat down at the bow and looked out on the dark waters. Every wave had a slight silver lining when the moon shone on them. It was a waning moon, the light weak. The stars glittered above his head. Determined to not fall asleep he focused his eyes on the point where the starry sky was swallowed by the dark sea.
Slowly a calm settled over him. Despite the chill he felt surprisingly satisfied. High above a star twinkled at him.
***
He was still sitting at the bow when the captain found him. The first light of dawn was already staining the water red. Seabirds flew in formation amongst the clouds. Eléen wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing and could feel the captain halt and stare at him. The startled expression of the captain almost made him laugh. Instead he faked a cough and turned around, pretending he had heard the older man approaching.
“So it is you after all”, the captain breathed. “I couldn’t recognize you. Where’s your robes?”
“I don’t usually sleep in my robes”, Eléen replied softly, distracted by the rising sun.
“Sleep in…” the captain’s mouth slowly dropped, forming a circle. “You have been awake all night?”
The incredulous voice of the elderly man made Eléen stop gazing at the scenery and stand up. He shrugged, now that the dawn had arrived he felt really tired. “I had nightmares”, he answered simply walking past the captain towards his cabin. “I will sleep now.”
The captain followed him with his gaze, noting that the youngling didn’t stagger or trip as he made his way down the ship. Only the day before had the young man struggled to walk on deck. How he suddenly moved better than most sailors was a mystery.
Eléen was almost sleepwalking by the time he reached his cabin. He looked tiredly at the hammock, took the pillow and the blankets, placed them on the floor and lay down. Soon exhaustion swept him away towards deep, dreamless sleep.
***
A week later he was eating his breakfast in his usual place at the bow. The sailors paid him no mind, they were used to him spending most of his time in silent contemplation. Some of them had even started to assume he was some sort of monk due to his never ending robes. He had been told they would arrive at port of Sirrela later the same day so he had done his favourite robes in soft peach.
He didn’t think about the port city or the kingdom of Ilsa at that moment. Instead his thoughts were deep under the sea. The quiet depth with a wide variety of fish swimming around, the light from the sun reaching down to the shallow reefs. To his mind, it looked beautiful. Footsteps awoke him from his deep thoughts. The captain were approaching him with a gentle smile on his face.
“We will arrive at Sirrela in about an hour”, the older man said. “You can already see the lighthouse on top of the cliff.” Eléen followed the pointed finger and saw a tall tower in the distance.
“What is its purpose?” he asked.
“It is to guide ships so they may not run onto a reef during dark and stormy nights.” The captain smiled. “We called it ‘The Sailor’s Friend’. The citizens of Sirrela calls it The Tower of Archella. No matter the name, it still does the same thing.”
Eléen squinted, trying to see more of the tall tower but it was too far away. The captain patted his shoulder and suggested he would start packing so they could unload his luggage the moment they arrived at the wharf. Eléen took his advice and went to put away his things.
***
A group of people was waiting as the ship came to a halt. The messenger that had brought the news about Alcande’s new ambassador clearly intended to return on the very same ship said ambassador had just arrived in. Sailors started carrying a couple of large chests from the deck to the wharf. A young man followed, the wind making the light cloth of his robes flutter in the wind. The messenger didn’t take any notice of the youngling’s appearance. While becoming an increasingly rare sight he had still seen enough men in similar clothing to think it was strange.
Not so for the various noblemen assembled at the harbour. They had never seen a man in such strange clothes before. Together with a soft face and gentle brown eyes the young man could easily be mistaken for a women. Even the way he moved had an elegance to it that seemed beyond human. The noblemen quickly schooled their faces and greeted the young ambassador with grace and warmth. Secretly hoping that he would carry word to their honourable ruler about their curtesy and welcoming so that they may receive good tidings from the capital. Perhaps even an invitation to join the royal court.
None of the assembled noblemen paid any attention to the fact that their high-class guest during the whole spectacle did in fact not utter a single word.