Chapter 35 #2
“I don’t know, Cress,” Trace replied, sounding irritated with his own lack of answers. “I haven’t seen what defenses await them at the Cambrian shore, and I don’t know whether we should be more concerned about the fliers on our ship or the portalers on theirs.
As I felt the warmth of the sun on my skin, the true gravity of the situation struck me.
“The fog is clearing fully.” I looked around frantically, gauging what remained of it.
“I told you it would,” he replied, not understanding the threat at hand.
“Trace! Once they can see the shores, they can portal. We have to stop them.”
At the far northern end of the coast, the fog had begun to fade.
At this angle, only the passengers aboard our ships could see what it had unveiled.
All along the Cambrian beach were rows and rows of scattered male and female citizens alike.
Not nearly as organized as a true military formation, but there were numbers, nonetheless.
The fog slowly peeled away, further revealing the disappointment of what Saryn had been able to amass.
A small show of force from the Riverlands, greatly outnumbered by the army aboard these ships.
From what I could see, they had managed to place a handful of catapults a few hundred feet apart on the beach.
Archers stood in rows with bows and arrows at the ready.
Tears began to swell, clouding my vision as I witnessed youths running along the beaches carrying supplies at the behest of their elders.
“…Children,” I said.
Trace’s reply was plain and cold, but the weight of it was not lost on me.
“They will defend their homeland the same as anyone else—any way they can.”
There were no battlements, no impenetrable walls.
No Kingsguard or armies to support them.
A handful of cavalries lined up behind the archers.
This was a quickly strewn-together local militia of Riverland folk, at best. Saryn had emphatically urged the locals to take up arms before carrying on to Erisas Bay and Tinsilor in search of aid.
Their enemies greatly outnumbered them. That was more than clear.
And as I watched the fog continue to disappear—faster and faster—I felt panic seeking to corrupt any ounce of a logical thought from my head.
What can I do, I kept asking myself over and over.
I felt my hands sweat, and my shaking got worse, as no solutions presented themselves to me.
Whenever I confided a problem to my father, no matter how mad or complex, he would tell me that calm waters were clearest. Lost in the emotion of my situation, I had dismissed his advice more than once.
But now, I heeded it. I closed my eyes and fought to suppress the panic.
I took in a deep breath through my nose, letting the scent of the sea air engulf me.
I focused on slowing my heartbeat and thought of the comforting sparkle of the ocean on the horizon line.
My skin felt cold despite the strengthening sun, and though its light did not warm me, it illuminated the shadowed corners of my mind.
From its recesses, a memory from Basdie crystallized, clear and magnificent. Varro’s silky voice saying, “She had to have been a mirage, but I could not bring myself to stop sailing toward it.”
I flung my head back as my eyes opened wide toward the sky, then I lowered my chin, staring at what little remained of the fog, my purpose suddenly fixed.
“They can’t portal to what they can’t see,” I said to Trace in revelation.
I spent no time explaining. No time pondering if it would work. It had to. There was barely time to instruct the others. Via the bond, I quickly relayed to Varro, “Get back to your ship with Cairis, stop the fliers at all costs. I love you.”
Before he could respond, I did my best to shut out the noise of any reply he’d send and turned my attention to Trace. “Don’t stop me. Whatever happens. Just stop the fliers. I know what to do.”
The worry on Trace’s face turned to resolve as he placed his hand on the hilt of his blade and nodded at me with confidence. As Trace walked away toward those receiving weapons, I turned my attention back to the shoreline.
I had only ever used the power of dark wielding for destruction.
Volatile and violent in nature. What I was about to attempt, I had never done before.
The idea was speculative, at best, only loosely grounded in what I’d read in all my hours of studying magic.
Failure meant the Cambrian troops would surely suffer a resounding and utter defeat.
I would use the darkness to make an ally of the light. It had to work.
I studied the waves upon the sea, noting their chaotic movements.
I closed my eyes and felt the sea breeze brush tendrils of my hair gently across my skin.
I absorbed the energy of the sun’s comforting rays, settling the goosebumps along my chilled skin.
I had to know these elements like they were all one in the same.
I needed to allow these elements to become a part of my being, incorporating their essence until I could impart my influence upon them.
But harnessing them would not be enough to wield them so quickly, so immensely.
Only the might of memory could forge such masterful magic.
Remembrances, sweetly layered with nostalgia, swirled in my mind in a storm of emotion.
I navigated the memories of my past, remembering my father’s hand on my shoulder as we both looked out at my first sunrise on the water.
His pride at me standing by his side was evident, the heir to all he had built.
I remembered the roughness of the rope in my hands as he taught me to tie knots properly.
I remembered when the captain stepped aside and father let me put my hands on the giant wheel, basking in the immense power I felt from steering the ship.
Power that came from controlling something bigger than myself, rather than being controlled by it.
I anchored into that control so deeply that when my eyes opened again, I saw the patterns of the wind; I saw the rays and speckles of sunlight for what they were.
Nothing more than paint awaiting its canvas.
I stretched out my hands in front of me, keeping them low and unnoticeable.
I knew Trace would end anyone who tried to distract me, and so I drowned out the shouts of the commoners-turned-soldiers surrounding me so that only the song of the rolling sea accompanied my painting.
The moment that the fog lifted completely, I could see the sandy beach ahead, the very land that those seeking to portal to would set their sights on any minute now.
The sun above it heating the sand. A cool breeze would distort the scene properly.
I gathered all my power, pushing the chilled, ocean air directly inland, creating the refraction that distorted the coastline.
I held my hands there, steadying myself as I continued to keep a flow of moisture-filled air pulsing into the beach, until finally, silver, mirror-like sparkles rippled all along it.
I held it steady, for fear of the distortion not holding long enough.
In the distance, I heard the yelling of orders and rustling of soldiers’ wings unfurling.
I had to hold the mirage for as long as it took.
Long enough to send as many of them as possible into the oblivion of their misguided portals.
Small batches of soldiers began to take flight, conjuring their cloudlike circles before them; eyes set on Cambria’s shores for the first time ever.
A calamity of battle cries surrounded me.
Commoners looked on as their armored peers began the siege.
I shoved aside their distractions, praying and willing all my energy into this veil I had pulled over the shores of my homeland and its people.
I prayed to the Gods that this shining blanket of deception would be enough to thwart my enemies’ attempts.
One by one, their small groups entered their portals, and I held my breath waiting to see if any actually arrived on the shores of the Riverlands.
Moments passed by and not a single soldier arrived on the beaches.
I felt my chest tighten, constricting with the joy that it was somehow working, but also the anxiety that sustaining this was becoming practically unbearable.
After a few more waves of soldiers attempted to portal ashore, I could hear the sounds of chaos erupting.
Leaders aboard our ships ordered the passengers to fly ashore.
I had no idea where Trace, Cairis, or even Varro was while I ignored every plea he sent through the bond for a response.
I could spare not a single ounce of energy for him or anything else.
I had to keep this mirage from dwindling.
Angry Fae took to the skies, and I hoped the forces of Cambria, plus the Imperi would be enough to quell them.
The boom of cannon fire thundered in the background, and catapults sprang into action in the distance.
Cambria hurled all the artillery it could muster in the direction of the Artumian fliers.
Inexperienced at evasive flight maneuvers, bodies crashed into the sea all around the ship.
Just because these Fae had wings, it didn’t mean they had been trained correctly on how to use them.
They’d become complacent since the last war, just like our own people.
Zarif had sent more than half his fighters into their portals, and not a one had made landfall yet.
I had no idea where I’d sent them. The great unknown of portaling missteps could have resulted in them landing somewhere else entirely, or leaving their bodies and consciousness mangled in between space and time.
Either way, they weren’t at their destination, and that brought me peace as I struggled to keep the mirage intact.
I felt the elements slipping from my grasp, pulling away from me, and yet I sank my mental talons in deeper, clinging to them as best I could.
Every second I held on only exasperated me further.
How long until Zarif conceded that his army could not successfully portal ashore?
Maybe enough of them had been lost in the attempt that the remainder would simply take flight?
I clung to the idea that every one of them I managed to send to oblivion with this golden facade was one less for my people to fight.
I fought as hard as I possibly could, but my fingertips had gone numb and my legs felt heavy, like they could no longer hold up the weight of my own body.
My skin burned as if stricken by fever, and I began to sweat profusely.
The memories that nourished my power began to dim, suddenly a blurry mess despite my efforts to call upon them.
Like a novice artist who mixed too much water with her paint, the colors merged and lost all definition.
There were no longer clear pictures of my family’s faces.
No recollections of my youth. It was a torrent of chaos, swirling violently until the energy was drained wholly from my body, reducing my power to a fraction of what it once was.
Yet I continued, eyes fixed on my creation, releasing all that I could until my eyes began to flicker. And when the darkness took me, I fell to the ground, overcome by the feeling that there was nothing left to give.