Roots - Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen: Sweet Tears

Great arms wrapped around Aldon in a tight embrace, heat emanating from all sides. The pressure built on his head until he thought it would burst and end his pain. A stinging sensation grew across his face until tears welled up in his eyes only to dry up on his dehydrated flesh. He felt the fumbling around his head and tried to shove the hand away but couldn’t seem to find his own. The pulls and prods continued for what seemed days until all sensation in his face disappeared. His chest remained numb and cold, no surprise to Aldon in his comatose-like state and worried him fiercely.
A hand clasped his lower back and shoulder and with a lift, heaved Aldon from the couch he had been placed on, and placed him in a bed.
“Try not to move too much. Oh, and don’t sleep on your left side or stomach. It’s..important.” The rich thick voice whispered with a sense of urgency.
Aldon quickly felt the fetters of exhaustion weigh his limbs down like iron chains until he was fast asleep in restless dreams. Aldon felt the warm, sticky sheets clinging to his flesh, but his mind felt the swaying of the ocean upon a boat. A small sailor’s vessel being tossed in a tempest of Poseidon’s wrath sent Aldon’s knees buckling beneath the weight of the waves’ thrust. He flew against the captain’s quarters and banged his head. The jostling twisted him around and flung back out the door to the main deck. Instantly the typhoon rain passed him in sheets, a sudden wetness soaking him immediately. He slipped on the slick wood and slid to the fore as the entirety of the ship slanted downward upon a tidal wave. A panicked thought ran to Aldon’s mind as he plummeted through the air upon the ship front as it hurtled toward the roiling black sea below, furious and churning with poison-green foam and bubbling like a festering wound. The mast snapped and disappeared into the water in flames, scorching the rest of the deck in the acidic water and casting the inferno across the hull. The flames surrounded Aldon, holding him in place as the ship nose dived into the spiraling whirlpool of the black abyss.
He awoke with a start, a silent scream on his lips. And sweat stinging his wounds. He opened his eyes and jumped from his bed. He nearly collapsed as soon as his feet hit the floor but he caught himself. He steadied his shaking frame against the headboard before looking around the room. It was a small, dark room he had never seen before. Stacks of books littered the room on all sides in seemingly no order. The walls were a deep blue like the bottom of a well and were cracked like spider webs across their faces.
Where am I? Where is Muren? How did I get here? I—
Aldon placed his hand on his head and recoiled as fire spread through his skull. A cold terror replaced it soon after and left him paralyzed as the feel of the glowing blade flashed in his mind. Hands numb and cold, he reached up to his face. He couldn’t seem to find it until he realized, he had been touching it for several seconds.
“My..my face..it..it’s..” He dropped to his knees with a thud and cried out in anguish as the scabs across his chest split. Not a moment later he heard someone running to the door.
“Aldon are you okay?” A shrill voice called on the other side.
“What’s happened to my face? I remember my chest but—“ The door opened slowly and a short woman walked in. She had great lines on her face and wrinkles that hung like those on a sheet.
“After you passed out, my husband took you and carried you from Town. But we were ambushed. They followed us a long ways and we fought them at every turn,” She went silent for a moment then and sat on the corner of the bed. “We had made it to Muren’s farm—“
“So he is alive!” Aldon interrupted and leapt to his feet, a single glimmer of hope in a hell he called reality.
“Later.” She cooed quietly. “Anyway, we reached the front of the house when..” She choked and held back a sob. “The house, it..”
Aldon began to sink back into his depression like the ship in his dream. He tried to spit the words out and be brave but managed only a mumble: “The house.” She shook her head miserably and began to cry. A large man stepped into the room and placed his arm around her.
“Muren saw us coming and came to the door; he was hurt and couldn’t make it to the front porch fast enough.” His rich voice poured.
“What happened?” Aldon demanded in an expressionless voice as tears welled up in his eyes. His fist clenched the bed post until his veins protruded and turned white.
“The house exploded.”
Aldon’s head seemed to buzz with a world of thought not his own. He could see faces and hear voices but none he recognized. It was as if he had left his body and drifted away in the breeze.
“What?”
The man’s forehead creased and his age became apparent. His bald head turned downward then back to look Aldon in the eyes, mustache quivering slightly.
“The bandits had gotten there first and placed black powder kegs in the basement. Muren didn’t know and came to warn us he saw them about, but..his leg was weak from the fight.”
Aldon stumbled back against the wall and imagined he was back at the house, sitting by the fire with Muren whittling in his favorite chair. The smell of mahogany wafted in the air and reminded him of winter. He could hear Muren whistling a light tune and scraping the wood curls from his shirt. But the house he loved so much suddenly erupted into flames around him, and Muren seemed unaffected and continued whittling away at the plank as the smoke filled Aldon’s lungs. The house fell apart board by board until they were alone in a mound of smoldering ash and kindling. The floor swept out from beneath him and whirled back into the dark room he was standing in.
A single thought came to mind.
“The farm is gone.”
“Yes.”
“Muren is gone.”
“Yes.”
“And now I am truly alone, disfigured and the last of my race in perhaps the entire country.”
“You are not alone, you never were. We’re all here for you, Aldon.”
“All of us.” She piped in.
“Well I’m tired of crying and running. I will not leave Muren’s death unavenged and those responsible free to leave.”
“I am with you.” The man boomed. “Name’s Hondur, this is my wife, Alyce. We lost our shop and son in the raid so we know your pain. I see the flame in your soul and will not deny you your revenge. I would go myself but youth is no longer with me. But we have been gathering those left from Town to rebuild anew somewhere else, and to create a town guard. We shall keep them away and deal death to those who try, but it is up to you to seek out those directly responsible.”
“And so I shall once I have had my training.” Aldon said unwavering.
“Who shall have the honor?” He inquired.
“A man I met in the forest when I was away. His name is Briar and he was once a powerful warrior.”
“Briar the SoulBlade? I have heard of him long ago when I was younger. He was a good man, however he disappeared when the world was in great peril. I would be wary of his intentions once he has trained you his way.” The man said somberly, stroking his chin and frowning. “But now is not the time for such dark thoughts. We have chased the bandits from our homes and shall rise from the ashes. We shall be the Phoenix in a world of evil, ever to stand once more from the throes of death; undefeatable.”
“However you need to rest and heal. Your wounds are great. Please take the time for your body to repair itself before attempting anything strenuous.”
Aldon nodded and laid down upon the bed slowly, pushing his thoughts away. The door closed behind them, leaving him alone to his own devices. He pulled the covers close and stared at the ceiling as the weight of the world pressed down on his shoulders once again. A single tear slid down his cheek for his lost father whom he had never seen to apologize or tell him he was okay. His father whom he would never see again.
“I shall avenge you, father.”