The Belirocean Chronicles Part 2

Prologue to Part Two of the War on Dragons
Rijon Moonshine sat dejectedly on his boat. Barasila was below deck, rowing with the rest of the crew. The two lovers were not on speaking terms with each other. A single, glistening tear dripped from Rijon’s cheek, and he brushed it away. He was the rebels’ leader. He couldn’t afford to be seen crying like a baby. The army didn’t care about what happened to his son. That was already very much apparent. When one year old Alasar had been left behind in the chaotic boarding of the ships, both Rijon and Barasila had wanted to return to land to save him. But the ships were under heavy fire, and there was no possible way of rescuing the young child. The helmsman had ignored Rijon’s order to go back, and Rijon had gone after the elf. As one, all of the other elves had risen to defend their crew member from both Rijon and Barasila. Rijon had reluctantly accepted their logic; to return now would be suicide. Barasila had seen Rijon give up, and she broke down.
Finally, to soothe their fears, Rijon had emptied a wine bottle, and slid two rolled up notes inside, before sending the bottle into the water close to land. He prayed that a soldier would find the child and give him the note when the boy grew older...
 

Chapter One
Thesaol Arcarin was unlike any elf his age. He was thin, tall, and as pale as the moon. He looked just as normal as the next elf, except for a single detail. Thesaol had the mark of the dragons’ pagan god, Ledar. Thesaol was set apart from all other elves by his toes. Six digits on each foot. At an early age, Thesaol was left out of things. If all of the elves at Te Arylo pei Zaliana were rewarded for good behavior with the sweet taste of a frosted cake, Thesaol was left out of the celebration.
Often at night, Thesaol would ask his father, “Why? Why am I frowned at? Why do people spit at me when I go with you to te ceta? Why do I have six toes when everyone else has five?”
Every time Thesaol questioned his father, the retired soldier would answer that Thesaol was special, and that it didn’t matter what other elves thought. He was special in his own way.
As Thesaol grew into his teenage years, he began to realize he was an adopted child. His father, Sarin, raised him as his own child, but no one can hide the changes of the teen years. Gradually, Thesaol’s appearance changed, much to the horror of his father. Sarin had done all that he could to hide the circumstances of Thesaol’s homecoming, but he knew that the child would be found eventually.
Thesaol’s problems grew as he did. He was emotionally just like the other teen boys. He felt like all guys feel in their teens. But physically, he was the devil’s child, and no girl would ever speak to him. Every year, on Te Nata pei Sokilu, the elves created an unofficial tradition. The guys would try to kiss a girl. If they were successful, the next year would bring good luck. Thesaol of course, always felt like the day was just to rip him to shreds mentally. And it worked too.
Thesaol was nothing like his father. Where Sarin was short and beefy, Thesaol was tall and thin. The soldier’s hair was light, and curly, but Thesaol’s hair was jet black, and as straight as a sword. Then, of course, there were the toes. Thesaol had twelve when he should only have ten. In addition, Sarin’s face was round, and wide, like a pig’s face, and Thesaol’s face was long and thin, like a horse’s.
Sarin had always known that by taking Thesaol in, he would forfeit his own life eventually. It all went back to that akaseral, Rijon Moonshine.  The soldier would never admit it, but he swore that Rijon had a baby twin, and had dumped it on that damned beach, where so many of Sarin’s comrades had fallen to a swarm of arrows. He had to admit, however, that the rebel leader had some guts. Rijon had broken out of the cell in which he was to die, and he had somehow vanished in the face of certain death. He had reappeared on the west coast, and had worked his way east, breaking open the most heavily guarded prisons on Belirocea as easily as one might crack a walnut. Then he had held off three huge armies for two years while he constructed a fleet of ships to ferry his army of convicts to a deserted island in the middle of the ocean. Secretly, Sarin admired Rijon’s skill at handling that army of prisoners. Of course the dragons were behind it all. But, Sarin had come to believe that the dragons weren’t evil, like the other elves said. They were just defending their homes. Such thoughts would be the death of the fiercest elf soldier, but that was already coming for Sarin, and he didn’t care.
He knew the fate of all who opposed the elves. They were slowly starved to death in a prison. That was what was coming for Sarin. He knew that from reading one of the notes in the bottle he found on that beach. It had proved that the baby’s father was on his way to the haven in the middle of the ocean. By order of the new elven laws, that baby’s life did not exist anymore.
But Sarin took the child in. He named the kid Thesaol, instead of using a name starting with the letter ‘A’. That letter adorned the child’s blankets, and Sarin wanted to keep the boy away from all affiliation with Rijon’s band of prisoners. So, he treated the renegade child like he would treat his own son, if Sarin had one to raise. Thesaol learned that dragons were evil, even if they seemed nicer than the jerks he was around every day.
For thirteen years, the family was safe. Thesaol reached the age where Sarin would allow him to go to the market on his own. Thesaol learned to ignore the other elves, and thus he learned to endure. In all, the two were okay with their lives and lies. And why wouldn’t they be? They were much better off now than if Sarin told the truth about Thesaol.
But nothing can last forever.
Thesaol was walking to the market on a cold clear morning at the start of winter. The first snow had fallen less than five days ago, and, although the white was gone again, it had left it’s mark in the slush of the muddy gras lining the roads.
Thesaol saw a band of soldiers marching towards him. Respectful of the new laws of superiority, Thesaol stepped off the dirt road, and into the soaking wet grass.
The lead soldier turned his head to the sound of a weight pressing into the sand. He barked out an order to halt, and turned to face Thesaol.
“So Rijon Moonshine, you’ve finally decided to crawl out of your wormhole,” He spat.
Thesaol was confused. He hadn’t seen any other elf on the side of the road. Still, he moved aside so the soldier could talk to whomever was there.
I’ll have to ask Dad who this Rijon Moonshine is, he thought.
“Don’t move away! You’re trapped for good this time you dog! Deral, go check our friend here for a weapon,” The soldier ordered.
Another elf walked up to Thesaol, and grabbed him.
“Wait!” Thesaol cried. “I’m not who ever you’re looking for!”
“Shut up!” The soldier yelled.
Thesaol gulped as the soldier placed an arrow to his bow.
Sarin jogged after Thesaol. He knew Thesaol would be upset if he saw his father guarding him, but Sarin didn’t care. Thesaol could think he was alone. It was better than him actually walking the 18 miles to the market in Daradlis. As much as he’d like to really let Thesaol go alone, Sarin knew that sooner or later, the boy would be in grave danger. He just didn’t expect it to happen so soon.
Sarin rounded a corner, and saw Thesaol standing on the side of the road, with his hands tied behind his back. The boy had been stripped to his underwear, and he was shaking violently. Sarin saw the warnings of severe frostbite in the shakes. But he also saw the telltale signs of a severe diet coming soon. Standing around the boy were several elves, armed with the typical broad sword that was issued to the elven armies.
“What the hell are you doing?” Sarin roared.
“Stay out of this if you value your life,” The commander of the soldiers hissed.
“That is my son you damned akaseral!” Sarin screamed.
“You dog! Be silent or you shall share this rebel’s fate!”
Sarin reached for a sword he kept hidden in his pants leg. Drawing the blade, he snarled, “By order of the commander of the Fifth White Hand legion, I order you to release my son immediately!”
The soldiers’ leader paled, looking whiter than Thesaol did.
“Y-yes sir! Right away sir!” He stammered before turning back to his captive. “Release him!” He ordered. “Give back his things and fall back into formation!”
The soldiers scampered around like frightened rabbits. They lined up on the road, and the group marched off impressively. Their efforts were wasted. The former commander of the Fifth White Hand legion had eyes for his son only.
“Get dressed Thesaol. We’re going home. I will go to the market myself, once you are safely inside. You will pack a bag of food for a journey. Then, when I return, we’ll talk about what needs to happen,” Sarin declared.
“But-”
“Don’t argue with me Thesaol! Just do as I say!”
“Yes Dad,” Thesaol sighed.


An hour later, Sarin rushed into his bedroom. He wrote a letter, and signed it, before reaching underneath his mattress, and pulling out a sheathed sword. Breathing deeply, he walked out to where Thesaol was sketching a picture of a tall beautiful woman. Thesaol’s way of dealing with his emotions.
“Thesaol, come here,” Sarin said.
The boy stood up, and nervously walked up to his father.
“Thesaol, I want you to keep this blade on you at all times. It will save your life one day,” Sarin said, handing Thesaol the sword.
“Dad, I-”
“No Thesaol. Don’t try to hold off what is happening. I have already tried for 13 years. And they were the best years off my life. Now listen to me. As soon as I step outside, lock up the house. Lock all doors, the windows, everything. When I return, unlock the door after making sure it really is me. If it isn’t me, hide in the cellar until I get home. And above all, keep that sword with you.”
With that, Sarin stepped out of the house, and Thesaol began making his rounds. He went around the house slowly, shoving the sword out of his mind. Why should he have a sword? They were for the wealthy, and for those who were going into the army. Thesaol was neither of the two.
But eventually, Thesaol couldn’t hold it off any longer. He went back to where he had dropped the sword. The sword belt was hopelessly confusing, full of loops and buckles. Thesaol ignored it. Carefully, Thesaol slowly slid the blade out of the scabbard. He gasped at the sight of the hilt. It was made from gold, and had several small rubies embedded in the shape of an ‘A’ in the gold. To think that his father had bought this sword for him was incredible. And to have kept it hidden while several days saw them with no food!
The sword was beautifully made. It was shorter than most elven blades, at about two and a half feet long, and it was incredibly light in Thesaol’s palm. The hilt was large enough to place two hands on it, yet the whole weapon could be used with just one hand, due to its lightness, and its length. Thesaol ran a finger across the blade experimentally, and hissed in pain. The blade easily cut open his fingertip. Glaring at the blade in disgust, Thesaol sheathed the sword again, suddenly feeling tired. He laid down on the couch, and quickly fell to sleep.


Thesaol was laying in a tent, screaming. A huge pale skinned elf and another, slightly smaller tan elf were holding each other as they watched Thesaol.
“Isn’t he the just the most perfect child Rijon?” The smaller elf smiled.
“He is the most handsome of all of the elves,” The huge man named Rijon replied.
The world around Thesaol blurred, and when everything cleared, He was still in the tent, but with a different giant over him.
“You poor little child,” The man sighed.
Then, Thesaol fell into darkness.


Thesaol was awakened by a loud tapping on the front door. He looked out of the covered window, and saw his dad pounding on the wooden wall blocking the entrance.
Thesaol ran to the door, and pulled it open.
“Finally! I’ve been knocking on that door for the last five minutes!” Sarin exclaimed, stepping inside the house. “And where’s the sword? I told you to keep it on you!”
“Dad, what’s going on?” Thesaol asked, grabbing a large chunk of bread from the man.
“Answer my question first!” Sarin demanded. “Why don’t you have the sword on?”
“I don’t know how to put it on,” Thesaol sighed.
“It's easy! Watch!”
Sarin put it on himself within three minutes. Then he took it off, and handed it to Thesaol.
“Now you try,” He said.
It took Thesaol an hour to get the belt on. Finally, though, he succeeded in hooking it up.
“Good,” Sarin said approvingly. “Now listen, because you don’t have much time now before they start searching for you. I recently gained an apprenticeship for you with a man named Tacael. He lives in the city of Ar-Eglano, a coastal city on the south coast.You are to travel there as fast as possible, and as quietly as possible, and give this letter to Tacael. Have you packed yet?”
“Yes Dad,” Thesaol said.
“Take this map to guide you on your trip. Travel away from the main roads whenever possible, and travel only at night.”
“But you’re coming with me, right?” Thesaol cried out suddenly.
“I can’t come with you Thesaol,” Sarin said sadly. “I will just slow you down. With luck, I might be able to give you some extra time.”
Someone started pounding on the door.
“Open up in there!” A voice bellowed.
“Go now Thesaol!” Sarin wept. He drew his sword as the soldiers outside tried to break down the door. “Run and hide in the forest tonight!”
“Dad! I won’t leave you!” Thesaol screamed.
“Run away or you’ll be killed!”
“Check around the house for a back door,” A soldier ordered.
Thesaol tore his eyes away from his father, and started running towards the back. He flew from the door, and threw himself into the safety of the trees just as a band of soldiers appeared around the corner. The elves shattered the door, and rushed into the small hut Thesaol had called home.
Ten minutes passed, and Sarin suddenly stumbled out of the back door. Thesaol started towards him, and froze as his father was joined by thirty other soldiers. They shoved Sarin against a tree stump, and the man put his head across the stump. A hooded elf raised its sword, and swung, slicing Sarin’s head off.
Thesaol’s mouth opened in a silent shriek. He stood up, and staggered deeper into the dark trees, tears streaming from his eyes.
 


Chapter Two
Thesaol stumbled up a steep hill, exhausted. He stared out down the road, and saw a huge expanse of water. Te Arylo Pasina. The Southern River. It flowed east to west for 500 miles, winding around towns, and separating some by two miles of water.
“Beautiful, ain’t it?” Someone said behind Thesaol.
Thesaol spun around, reaching for the sword hidden in his pants leg. While walking, he wanted to have the advantage of surprise if someone tried to attack.
The man behind him didn’t seem to be the attacking type. Cautiously, Thesaol relaxed his left arm, choosing to speak instead. The days in the forest still scarred him, even after a month.
“Excuse me sir, but do you know how far it is to Ar-Eglano?” Thesaol asked, trying to deepen his voice.
“What would you be needing in Ar-Eglano?” The man laughed loudly.
“I am supposed to meet a Mr. Tacael-”
“Dead,” The man said flatly. “Been dead since the dragons retook the city in the Third War. Bless the elven army. They sent twenty legions to the town to avenge the deaths. Built a memorial in the center of town. It’s well worth looking at if you get the chance.”
“I would like to see that,” Thesaol said.
“Well, it’s a bit too late to cross the river. That thing is ten miles away, and the ferry closes in an hour. I think you should spend the night with me, and tomorrow morning, you can cross the river,” The man said.
“Tomorrow, you can start on the journey. It’s about 15 days.”
“Well then, I’ll get as far as possible today,” Thesaol said.
“Kid, it’s too dangerous. You should really come with me.”
“I don't think I should-”
“Come with me,” the man said, suddenly grabbing Thesaol’s left arm. Thesaol’s sword thumped uselessly against his right leg.
“My name is Kasil, by the way,” The man said, dragging Thesaol along behind him.
Thesaol stumbled along in stony silence. He mentally cursed himself for talking to the man.
Ten minutes later, Kasil stopped in front of the building. He pulled out a key, and unlocked the door. Then he pulled Thesaol into the dark building, and locked the door behind him.
“Now we can talk freely,” Kasil declared.
“Huh?” Thesaol sounded.
“Kasil? Is that you?” Someone yelled.
A large woman came thundering down the stairs.
“My wife,” Kasil said, stepping towards the woman. They embraced, and Thesaol saw a girl, about his age, standing in a hallway.
They stared at each other, as if sizing up the other elf. Thesaol’s mind was going crazy. The girl was the most beautiful person he had ever seen, and she was staring at him!
“Anara, Lesina, this is Thesaol. He’s the one Tacael was waiting for,” Kasil announced.
“How do you know my name?” Thesaol gasped in shock.
“Sit down kid. We have a lot to talk about”, Kasil said.
Thesaol walked cautiously to a chair. He didn’t trust these people at all. But, he had no chance of escaping the house. The bullish man had the keys in his pocket. So, he sat down, keeping his right leg straight out in front of him.
“Wait a sec. Why don’t you go take the sword off Thesaol? I have to say, though, that is one of the most interesting hiding spots for a sword,” Kasil laughed. “The bathroom is just down the hall.”
“My father told me to keep it on at all times,” Thesaol said defiantly. They would not disarm him that easily. Hadn’t his father’s last wish been that he’d keep the belt on?
“Thesaol, I’m sorry to tell you this, but he wasn’t your father,” Anara said gently.
“I know. My real father didn’t want me. He abandoned me on a beach somewhere. But Sarin took me in, at the cost of his own life. He raised me like his own child, which is more than my real dad ever did.”
“Your real parents. That’s where the problem lies,” Kasil sighed. “Tacael was supposed to tell you this, but-”
“So let him tell the boy!” Anara cried.
“Wait...” Thesaol said. “Didn’t you say Tacael was dead?”
“Yes. I had to. It would mean the end of many lives if the wrong people knew he was still alive. You see, Tacael is supposed to be in prison. He was busted out 15 years ago by Rijon.”
“So he’s alive,” Thesaol concluded.
“Yes. Now, about the belt. You can keep it with you, but there is no point in keeping it on. As far as I know, you’re safe here.”
So, Thesaol took off his sword belt. He carried it out with him, and Kasil gasped in shock at the sight of the golden hilt.
“Thesaol, let me see that sword,” Kasil asked quietly.
Thesaol showed it to him, and Kasil suddenly unsheathed the blade.
“Hey!” Thesaol cried.
“Ki Tesa Ledar!” Kasil breathed, staring at the ruby A.
“Kasil, is that really...” Anara whispered.
“‘A’. Alasar. After all these years... Barasila said it would stay with Alasar. It was one of the spells she had me cast into its blade...”
Thesaol stared at the two people. This was getting weird. Magic swords, and a name Thesaol was sure he had heard before.
“Wait a minute. Alasar. I’ve heard that name before. Wasn’t he the son of Rijon?” Thesaol asked.
“Ala-Thesaol, Anara is right. This is something for Tacael to talk to you about,” Kasil said. “This is a very nice blade.”
“It’s yours, isn’t it?” Thesaol sighed. “I knew it was too good to last.”
He handed the sword belt to Kasil.
“What are you doing?” Kasil asked, bewildered.
“This is your sword, isn’t it?”
“No. The sword belongs to you Thesaol. But now we need to get ready for tomorrow. Lesina, please show Thesaol to his room.”
That night, Thesaol slept peacefully for the first time since leaving home. He slowly woke up the next morning to the smell of cooking bacon.
“Good morning Thesaol,” Kasil said, as Thesaol slipped into the room.
“Morning,” he answered.
“We need to eat quickly,” Anara said, placing four plates on the table.
“Yeah, and you should keep that sword hidden where you had it yesterday,” Kasil continued.
Thesaol gulped in horror. He couldn’t remember how to put the belt on.
“I- um... I-” he tried to say.
Suddenly Lesina burst into silent laughter. Her hands flew through the air, and Kasil gasped.
“Oh! You don’t know how to put it on! That has to change. I will help you after breakfast.”
Thesaol had seen Lesina’s hands.
“That was freaky,” he said. “What’s wrong with her?”
The room suddenly went silent. Lesina ran to Anara, and buried her head in her mother’s lap. Anara glared at Thesaol murderously.
“Thesaol, Lesina was born with the gift to understand people’s thoughts. But she also payed the price of such knowledge, and was born mute. She never liked to be around the other elves because she knew they thought she was a devil’s child,” Kasil said softly.
“I am such an akaseral!” Thesaol swore.
“It’s fine Thesaol. Just know that Lesina is a regular child, and she’s special in her own way.”
Lesina laughed suddenly, and her hands flew again.
“Just like you, you six-toed wonder,” he laughed.
An hour later, Thesaol rebuttoned his pants while Kasil called the girls back into the room.
“Okay. Let’s go,” Kasil said, and the family stepped out of the house. The journey had begun.