Page 24 of From the Myths of Kings

With one last look toward the darkening ocean, Rook followed Sune and Aurelia, hoping whoever had limped into the jungle was still alive.

Their small group ventured into the thick treeline, following the blood-stained tracks in the sand. Once they were fully enveloped by the jungle, a cacophony of sounds assaulted Rook: the hum of a thousand insects, the cawing of colorful birds, and the bending and snapping of branches in the breeze. Humidity draped over the forest like a veil, sticky and cloying. Unlike the dry heat of the Shujaa Desert, the islands’s humidity combined with tropical heat felt suffocating.

Sune blazed ahead, cutting through thick, ropey vines coiled around tree limbs that hung in their path, Aurelia keeping pace with his long strides. The tracks wedged deeper into the earth, dragging through the loam as though whoever had left them was losing strength, and each step a battle to keep moving.

The solid jungle floor gradually gave way to a flooded coastal marshland. The pockets of water were small at first, but every step brought them closer to large portions of land entirely saturated with saltwater. The water climbed up Rook’s calves as they sloshed forward through the murk. The tips of his wings dragged behind. Knobby cypress trees clambered out of the swamp, outgrowths of the trees’ roots tangling above the surface like netting. Rook didn’t even want to think of the animals that might be lurking in the deeper pools, hidden under moss-riddled logs and rotting leaves that floated on the gloomy water’s surface. He swatted at a loud gnat that hummed next to his ear. Sweat beaded on his skin.

“Hel’s teeth,” came Sune’s voice up ahead. “We’ve lost them.” He stood in knee-high swamp water. A crease formed between his dark brows as he scanned the marshy terrain. The tracks were long gone.

The rest of their rescue party caught up with him, squelching boots and splashing steps permeating the humid quiet.

Aurelia sidled over to Sune, bright eyes surveying the ancient cypress trees that loomed above them. “Wait, do you hear that?”

Rook held his breath as their group listened. Over the gentle gurgle of the swamp, a whimpering sound just barely reached his ears.

“Hello?” Aurelia called to the mysterious victim. “We’re here to help you! I am Captain Eleni of the Torqen gaurd. You’re safe now.”

“Over there!” One of the Tellusun Healers pointed to a root-growth that jutted out from the water. The huddled forms of at least three Merfolk poked out from between the angular knobs, half hidden in the water and coated in moss.

As Sune and Aurelia sprinted over to the tree, the water level climbed to their waists and left behind tendrils of filmy green as the sloshing waves splashed up their shining plates of armor. Together, they reached into the tangle of roots and pulled out each slumped form. In total, there were four Mer: two small children and two adults.

Sune and Aurelia held the feeble children in their arms and waded back over to the shallows. Rook lurched forward to assist with one of the adult Mer who staggered toward them, tucking his shoulder under the man’s arm. If the Mer was surprised an Auran was helping him wade through the swamp, he didn’t show it. Another volunteer from Terradrin caught the other Mer?a woman with tangled ochre hair?just before her legs gave out.

Rook grimaced when he saw the blood. A long slice was carved down the man’s thigh. Shredded flesh and mangled scales peaked through his torn trousers. Rook averted his eyes from the gore, shifting his focus instead to the man’s face. The Mer’s gaunt face was daubed with smears of mud, obscuring the purple-tinged scales that fanned out over his hollow cheekbones. Wheat-colored hair was plastered against his skull, appearing a dull yellow against the reflections of the sallow green swamp. Despite his ragged exhales, the Mer was breathing the air without issue, indicating they had titansblood in their possession.

After several arduous minutes, they finally found a semi-dry glade slightly elevated from the marshes. Rook followed Sune and Aurelia’s lead as they set the children down, gently helping the male Mer to the ground beside them. His stab wound throbbed with the effort, and he clenched his teeth as a jab of pain rippled out through the rest of his body.

Healers swarmed the group, pulling out poultices, fresh bandages, bottles of salves and balms, and various instruments needed for stitching up skin. Rook had seen brutal injuries and experienced vicious wounds himself but seeing the children covered with cuts, their hollow eyes filled with fear, sent a bolt of nausea through his stomach. This was the world they were hurtling toward if Selussa seized control of Revelore.

“Hello, my name is Joya,” said a soft-spoken Healer. The woman bent down to Mer children’s level, knees digging into the damp earth as she leaned forward. Her dark curly hair was cropped at her shoulders and her skin was a warm shade of brown. She smiled at the two children?siblings judging by the identical flaxen hue of their hair?and tucked her curls behind her ears.

The two gangly children stared at Joya with cautious curiosity. They’d never seen someone from the desert kingdom of Tellusun before, Rook realized. In fact, they’d probably never seen anyone from Terradrin or Aurandel for that matter. The thought needled through him like a blade. They’d drifted so far from the Four Kinsmen’s dream of a united Revelore. For decades, erratic nobility like his own family fell prey to greed and petty rivalry, sparing no thought for the common folk of the land and how their political games might affect their lives.

They were no better than Selussa.

“What’s your name?” Joya asked, sensing their trepidation. The small boy no older than five looked to his big sister for permission, though she couldn’t have been much older than him. She gave a curt nod and squeezed his tiny hand. Rook’s heart clenched at the sight. How many times had his own older sister protected him just like that?

“Murial,” came his wavering voice. He looked shyly at Joya, the corners of his mouth upturning.

“And yours?”

The older girl blinked slowly, deliberating. She squeezed her little brother’s hand again. “Ebba,” she finally whispered.

“Pleased to meet you both. My hands are about to start glowing,” Joya warned them. “Don’t worry, it’s just healing magic. It will tickle a little bit.” She scrunched up her nose at the word tickle, which made the children giggle.

Children are so resilient, Rook thought. Even after all they’d been through, these little ones found the strength to laugh with a stranger. Perhaps even more commendable, the children took the presence of foreigners in stride, choosing to trust their intentions despite all of the lies they’d doubtless been told of rival kingdoms. The intertwined histories of their people were complicated and nuanced, but these children proved the future didn’t have to be.

This is what he’d present to Raven when they met, he decided. It was a truth his sister couldn’t ignore.

True to her word, golden light began to thread like veins under Joya’s forearms, collecting in her palms. Though Rook had seen Hasana’s magic numerous times over the last few weeks, he was still astonished to see the glowing magic flowing through Joya’s hands like liquid sunlight. Not every Healer of Tellusun possessed magic that could mend wounds with just a touch of their hand. Many who trained in the Healing arts exhibited no signs of any magical touch at all. But even without magic, the Healers were sorcerers in their own right, able to mix ingredients and compounds like veritable alchemists.

The Mer children’s red-rimmed eyes widened as Joya’s power grew brighter. The golden glow caught on the near-translucent scales dusting their skin. Joya placed gentle hands on the children’s wounds, infusing magic with each touch. Little by little, their cuts mended and their bruised flesh healed. The little girl, Ebba, ran a finger over the now-smooth skin with an expression of awe. The light faded from Joya’s eyes as she finished, golden luminance receding into her skin like a tide.

While Joya healed the children, additional Healers surrounded the Mer adults and carried out similar evaluations. Sune and Aurelia stood shoulder to shoulder, concern etched on their faces as they watched the Healers’ methodical work. A Terradrin soldier uncorked a small barrel of titansblood and filled a cup, passing it around to each member of the Mer family.

“Thank you,” the male Mer rasped as he gulped down the bitter potion. “We had to ration our titansblood when we came ashore. Before the assault on Delphine, we were able to grab a small supply. The swamp gave us a measure of reprieve, but we were on our last dregs.”

The male winced as a Healer sewed up the gash in his thigh with glowing light. The color slowly returned to his face as his injuries mended, but the sheen of horror gleaming in his eyes remained steadfast. Lying against the soft earth beside him, the Mer woman endured more healing ministrations. A large laceration that snaked up her arm gradually fused back together, the seam of her torn flesh glowing like molten metal.

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