Jewel of the Surf Read online

  Dytin’s Stones:

  Jewel of the Surf

  B.C. Johnson

  Cover Art by Oliviaprodesign

  https://www.fiverr.com/oliviaprodesign

  Map art done by Karol of Parnasium

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  The contents of this story are the sole property of the writer. Any and all characters are fictitious and any and all similarities to real life individuals, alive or dead, are purely coincidence.

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  For my early readers

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  to accomplish this lifelong dream when I had given up at times.

  Thank you, truly

  Chapter 1

  Green & Black

  Hunger was everywhere. It lingered in the air, like a specter, hanging over the city with its vulture eyes. It sapped the people’s strengths, their energies. They clustered in groups, trying to stay warm, hoping their combined mass could stave off the icy winds. People were getting sick, unable to fight off infections and injuries with empty bellies. For the healers at the Cathedral for the Light, every day was chaos. Everywhere inside the hospital’s walls were the bodies of patients, huddled masses of family members, grieving widows clinging to their hollow-faced children. Desperation was everywhere. Hopelessness was everywhere. Hunger was everywhere.

  Marie Carer was balancing a tray of various salves and medicines, trying her best to weave through the throngs of people in the Cathedral’s hallways. “Nurse!” A voice cried out from a nearby room. “I need you in here!”

  Marie sighed, moving through the doorway and placing her tray down. “Yes priestess?” She responded half-heartedly, moving to the body in the bed.

  The healer, a woman named Karen Goystah, stood with her arms crossed. “This man’s bandages are saturated… when was the last time they were changed?”

  Marie bit her tongue. Goystah had a reputation for being focused more on her own accomplishments than her patient’s welfare. “I’m not sure, priestess. I’m assigned to another hall and I was just…”

  The man in the bed gargled loudly and his body shook. Karen rolled her eyes. “Great… just what I needed…”

  The healer placed her hand on the man’s arm and her pupils disappeared. Her brow furrowed and she blinked until her eyes returned to normal. “He’s going into septic shock. Start compressions! I won’t have another one dying on me today.”

  Marie began pushing on the man’s chest, pumping his heart for him while Priestess Karen rang a loud bell on the wall and then went to the other side of the bed. She sat and started praying softly, her hands glowing gentle hues of yellow light. A cavalcade of other health workers burst into the room and started assisting with various tasks, drawing medications into syringes, trading off with Marie on compressions, even a large male priest came in and tried his hand at helping Karen with the spells. In the end, it was all for naught. After over an hour of high intensity effort, the priests sat back in exasperation, the male shaking his head towards his colleague.

  As the helpers left the room in silence, Marie drew a bedsheet over the man’s face as Karen angrily stomped her foot. “You did this!” She spat.

  “Excuse me?!” Marie said through grit teeth.

  “Had you done your job, this wouldn’t have happened! The priests can’t be everywhere, and your complacency has undone all the work we did in healing his wounds,” Karen yelled, “Every time I’m close to discharging another patient, one of you nurses come in and muck it up. By the Light, if I had my way, every last one of you would be thrown out on the street!”

  “Then we should be thankful that it is not up to you,” An elderly voice resonated from the doorway.

  The two women turned towards the sound, immediately bowing their heads. “Grand Cleric!” Marie squeaked.

  Grand Cleric Emma Berthold, garbed in common priestess robes and covered in blood was glaring at the Priestess. Ayawamat, the Cathedral’s Chipowi Guard Captain, towered behind the petite older woman. “Priestess Goystah, give Nurse Carer and I the room, please.”

  Karen’s mouth dropped, “Grand Cleric, I was simply pointing out that…”

  “You are dismissed!” Emma snapped.

  Karen bowed her head, retreating from the room as fast as her feet could carry her. Emma’s scornful eyes followed her until the priestess was well out of earshot. When her face turned back to Marie, her features lightened and she signaled to her Chipowi protector. “Could you give us a minute, Aya? I think I will linger here awhile.”

  Ayawamat bowed respectfully. “Of course, I think I will check on the perimeter.”

  The towering man worked his way down the crowded hall and Emma moved into the room and closed the door. She picked up a chair and placed it beside the bed. She sat, patting the vacant seat next to her. “Please sit, Nurse Carer.”

  Marie smoothed the back of her skirt and sat down beside the Grand Cleric. She was sweating from the rush of activity, her hair was a mess, and she did her best to make herself look presentable. “My dear, relax,” Emma smiled, holding up her blood-stained hands, “Does it look like I am in any position to scrutinize your appearance?”

  Marie allowed herself to smile. “No, my lady.”

  “Those who do what we do, tend not to look their best while doing it,” Emma winked.

  Marie nodded, her eyes casting back across the body in the bed before them. A sigh escaped her, though she couldn’t decide if it was from pity, sadness, or just exhaustion. Maybe it was a little of all three. “Do not fret over him, my dear,” Emma stated, “He was crushed by a produce cart two days ago. To be honest, I am surprised he lasted this long.”

  Marie’s eyes widened at the Grand Cleric’s information. “Had the Priestess paid more attention to her patients than her ego, she wouldn’t have made such a fuss over it.”

  “She was just frustrated over losing a patient, my lady,” Marie was surprised at her own words. Why was she giving that witch so much credit?

  Emma chuckled. “You are kind, even to those who mistreat you. Regardless, had I gotten here sooner, I would have advised Karen to let the man go into the Beyond. There was no need for all of this.”

  “Shouldn’t we try to save everyone, my lady?” Marie asked.

  The Grand Cleric smiled warmly and gripped Marie’s hand with a tender squeeze. “If only it were that easy. In desperate times such as these, we must look at the long term. Some very difficult decisions will have to be made soon. The populace is only going to grow weaker with the famine. Resources will become scarce, and trying to save everyone is a goal we won’t be able to realistically meet.”

  Marie’s shoulders sank. She hated when priests spoke this way about patients. More and more often, healers lectured her in pessimistic, cold assertions. So rare was it to meet one who truly cared for others. A healer who would never give up, never stop trying to bring people back from the brink. Dedicate everything they were to their patient’s needs. Marie could remember only one, a few years ago. She had been young, with golden hair and a perpetually sunny disposition, with a black Labrador retriever forever at her side. She had been the daughter of a Senator, studied at the Cathedral from an early age. Marie had always loved working with her. The Grand Cleric stood, patting Marie’s shoulder reassuringly. “We would not be able to function without you and your peers, Nurse Carer. Do
n’t let Karen’s words weigh on your heart. Maybe when this is all over, the Priestess and I will have a longer conversation about her future here.”

  “All over?” Marie asked. “Has the King found a source of food?”

  “No,” Emma shook her head. “But we mustn’t lose faith my dear. Remember our founder’s tale. Even when times were most dire, the Divine came to them and revealed Hope’s healing touch. When times seem darkest, that is when the Light shine’s brightest.”

  Emma smiled once more at Marie and left through the door. The nurse cleaned the room from their resuscitation attempt and then moved to the door. She leaned up against the frame, taking in a breath and closing her eyes. For a moment, it felt like her shoes were cemented to the floor. Every muscle in her body ached, every nerve ending screaming. She looked over at the man’s body, partially jealous that he now was in a place where he no longer felt any pain, any sorrow, anything. A voice echoed from down the hall, the male Priest that had come in to help earlier. “Nurse?”

  Marie took in a heavy sigh and willed herself to move. “Coming!”

  ***

  All Sam could see was endless white. The group had taken refuge in an old bear cave when the storm had hit without much warning. Now, with freshly fallen snow as far as the eye could see, Sam was utterly lost on the open plains of Lochkary’s central province. He stared at the magical map Dytin had bestowed him, the one that look like nothing but a blank piece of parchment to anyone else, and sighed. “We’ll have to wait out until the road is clear, if we can even find the road again.”

  Poikaer, standing at the young Guardian’s side, nodded in agreement. “The horses would have a tough time treading through such thick snow. If you think waiting things out will improve our situation, then that is what we will do.”

  In truth, Sam had no idea if staying would help or hurt them. He was afraid to admit it to anyone else, but he was making things up as he went along. Leadership did not come easy to him. Crippling self-doubt, second guessing every idea that came into his mind. Blind loyalty with lives counting on him. It was pressure Sam wasn’t used to. Every step he felt like his companions were judging him, scrutinizing every decision. He was feeling more and more like he was acting like a total idiot.

  “He’s acting like a total idiot,” Nathaniel grumbled.

  “Watch your tongue, soldier boy,” April snapped. “Before I cut it out.”

  “Peace, both of you,” David cautioned. “We’re all just exhausted. None of us have any idea where we are, how can we expect Sam to know?”

  The group was standing in the snowbank at the mouth of the bear cave; cold, drained, and irritable. Nathaniel had not let the topic of Sam’s “meeting” with Dytin alone for a month. The blond haired soldier could not bring himself to believe the event had even happened, let alone accept the idea that Sam had been charged by the Architect to fulfill some epic quest. It just wasn’t practical. Nathaniel, a devout Follower of the Light, did not put much credit into Dytin to begin with. Nathan had seen Sam accomplish some incredible things, but this, this was just too fantastic to be real. “He stares at that paper like it will speak to him. April, no one respects the Guardian more than me, but he is acting like a crazy person.”

  April glared at Nathan. “We have met Sprites, Lycan, and even Dragons, yet meeting with a god is where you draw the line? Maybe Sam isn’t crazy, maybe you’re just a fool.”

  Nathaniel snorted, the misty air bursting out of his nostrils like a bull. April, content she had pushed enough buttons, sent a snide wink and began to walk away. David sighed and turned back to the Captain. “You will not get her to say anything against Sam. She’s much too loyal for that.”

  “At least you can see reason in my argument?” Nathan asked.

  David slumped his shoulders. “I… am keeping an open mind.”

  “Are you serious?!” Nathan blurted.

  “An agnostic stance is the most logical position to take on this. Maybe he met with him, maybe he didn’t, who am I to say for certain? The only one who knows what happened on that mountain is Samuel. What reason does he have to lie to us?” David explained.

  “To keep us hooked on his every word? He knows that as soon as we reach the city, our paths will split. He’s scared, alone, unable or unwilling to raise his siblings and has no home to retreat to. We are all he has, so he will do everything he can to keep us surrounding him,” Nathan crossed his arms.

  “By the Sprites, Nathan, do you even hear yourself? That Necromancer ordeal really did a number on your ability to trust others.”

  “I’m the son of a Senator. I learned a long time ago how easily people lie to get what they want,” Nathan grumbled.

  David shook his head. “Sam has been through a lot in the last few months, we all have. He’s charging forward, in a position he barely understands. I don’t know if Dytin himself charged him with collecting these stones, or he’s making it up to find some sort of purpose. In the end, what does it matter? We’ve already found three of these pieces…”

  “And lost one…” Nathan interrupted.

  “…we already recovered some,” David corrected. “And if he wants to collect more of them in order to keep them out of Cain’s hands, then I say he has good intentions.”

  Nathan sighed. David smiled gently. “You said it yourself, we’re all he’s got. If we start turning against him, then where will that leave us? Meeting with Dytin or not, Sam’s still the Guardian of the Wind. He’s still supposed to be the Champion of Humanity. If we don’t stand with him, how will others?”

  “You’re aggravating when you’re right, you know that?” Nathaniel consented.

  “Yeah, it’s the price I pay for being a genius,” David smirked.

  “Humble too,” Nathan chuckled.

  David began to laugh, when a white snowball flew through the air suddenly and slammed into Nathaniel’s shoulder. The men looked over and saw April, standing on a mound of snow, her hands on her hips in mock victory. “Ha! Come now, soldier boy! Where are those warrior instincts?”

  Nathan smiled and rolled up some snow into his hands, but before he could throw it, another projectile of the white powder slammed into the side of his head. The man looked at David, utter betrayal expressed across his face. “Traitor!”

  Poikaer looked down from the top of the cave as she heard laughter coming from below. “At least everyone’s spirits are high.”

  Sam shared her vigil of the snowball fight erupting below them. The Aidyn twins squared off against the Whitespell siblings and the other travelers in the group began taking sides in the playful dispute. Nathanial and Haven pelted David with snowballs as April fired back with both hands. Ahtash, David’s soulbound dragon companion, was trying desperately to assist the young magic user but was unable to. It seemed the Stone of Fire imbedded into the dragon’s shoulder was heating her body so much that she couldn’t keep a snowball from melting before she had a chance to throw it. Every attempt only resulted in Ahtash hurling globs of slush that couldn’t travel more than a few feet.

  The Whitespells ambushed their advisories, the group’s cries of laughter echoing through the still morning while Haven’s black Labrador, Daisy, barked around them enthusiastically. Ashtock shook his head, scooping up a massive amount of snow in his bulging arms and dropping it upon all six of them. As they each managed to claw their way out of the surprise avalanche and look up at the eight-foot-tall Chipowi, the mahogany skinned warrior smirked and crossed his arms triumphantly. “I win,” He stated.

  Laughter burst from the group again as they clambered their way out of the snow drift and brushed the white fluff from their clothes, Daisy drenching them a second time as she shook her fur dry. David seethed and clutched his wrist in pain. Haven couldn’t help but notice. “Oh, David. Are you hurt?”

  “Uh…no, not really,” David responded uneasily. “Just bent it weird when the snow fell on me.”

  Haven knelt by the young mage’s side and began healing his arm in
a golden hue of light. David felt a rush of relief surge through his arm and he couldn’t help but stare at Haven and smile deeply. Ahtash, a few paces away, stared at the two of them with wide eyes, her face becoming flushed and red. Haven finished and smiled at David, helping him stand. “Good as new, Sparkles,” She said with a grin.

  David shook his head and chuckled. “No getting rid of that name is there? Thank you.”

  “You better get inside, those hands of yours are freezing.”

  David nodded and started towards the cave entrance, Ahtash following behind him.

  Dinaer walked up the snow covered hillside where his sister and the young Guardian of the Wind were perched. “We should keep moving,” Dinaer stated gruffly.

  “To where?” Sam argued. “We don’t even know where we are.”

  “Irrelevant,” Dinaer retorted with a snort. “Cain’s forces track us.”

  Poikaer and Sam looked at him bewildered. “You’re sure?” The elf woman asked, wide eyed.

  Dinaer’s hooded head nodded. Sam sighed. “How many?”

  “Not sure, but even if it is merely scouts, we must move on.”

  Poikaer placed her pack over her shoulder. “Then it is decided?”

  Sam shook his head, gritting his teeth. “We’ve been running for a month. I’m done.”

  The elves looked at the young man perplexed. “Guardian, while your courage is admirable, we are too exposed here. We cannot create a productive defensive position,” Poikaer interjected.

  “Perhaps not, but we can mount an ambush. These winter storms are the perfect cover,” Sam thought allowed.

  The elves looked at each other, as if they were having a silent discussion amongst themselves. Dinaer lowered his head. “Then I suggest we take cover in the cave.”

  Sam nodded. “Agreed. We’ll stage some of our belongings as bait at the base of the hill. We can watch over them from the cave and catch our pursuers while they ransack the ‘camp’.”