Chronicles of Efia: Dawn of the Desert King

Chapter Thirteen

Fulbright's sore and overworked muscles were exacerbated by the sweltering heat the following morning. After a small breakfast, the ship set sail to its first trading post. Fulbright was assigned to repair the fractured mast caused during the ship's encounter with the Oknaan. With the sails lowered while he worked, travel was considerably slower and Fulbright felt the urgency to finish it as quickly as possible. He climbed the reed-like ladder attached to the top of the main mast and harnessed himself once he had reached the damaged area. The breeze was refreshing, and Fulbright wished he could dawdle with the repairs. However, the damage was minor and Fulbright was eager to get to Jarra along with the rest of the crew. By mid morning, the dark crimson sail stretched out into the wind like a dragon's wing.

The sun hung to the west as they reached their first trading post. There, Umar did the negotiating while the others stayed on board. Despite the lymokai his crew hunted the day before, Umar was still in need of more. Lymokai were rare in Parsha, and in high demand throughout the province. The first trader made the best lymokai jerky, which took up less space on a junk, but could be rehydrated by boiling in water. In exchange, Umar gave him sun balm to protect his skin in the blistering sun for six moon cycles and five crates of spiced apple wine from the orchards in Ackerley.

With no more repairs to be made over the next two days, Fulbright learned quite a deal from Rahnka and the other crewmen when they were not on duty as Wind Keepers. Rahnka taught him Peorian vocabulary and Parshan sword fighting which was more like a skillful dance that Fulbright did not have the feet for. Shiou told him many stories of Peor, its history as well as its geography. By dusk on the second day, a serenely lit Jarra could be seen from ten miles away.

The temperature dropped slightly as they sailed into the shadow of the Kuragh-hetyth with only a glimmer of the setting sun outlining the silhouette of the mountains. Other merchant ships slowly floated above the outskirts of the province from the north and south sides of the ridge like tiny mauve and umber clouds. The ports became visible and the ship slowly began its descent toward it as the province and the buildings grew larger. The Wind Keepers gently decreased their power from underneath the sails and docked the junk, while other crewmen lassoed rope around the dock posts.

Nightfall was fast approaching and time was not wasted in unloading the ship and moving cargo to a storage space that Umar had purchased. After everything had been packed away safely and locked up, the crew made their way to one of many inns that laced the docking areas around Jarra and each bought a room to turn in for the night. Before heading to his room, Umar pulled Fulbright aside.

"I was able to procure some items at some of the trading posts that I want you to have," Umar whispered as he handed Fulbright a small cage. Fulbright peeked under its covering to see a beautifully feathered bird sleeping peacefully. Umar reached into his belongings, pulled out a large, flat wooden box, and gave it to Fulbright. The box contained blank paper and a quill pen. Umar interpreted the curiosity in Fulbright's eyes. "The paper will only show its writing to whom you address it to, and this rare bird is known as a Khamelia. It is a messenger bird, but it cannot be seen until it reaches its destination. I take it you have probably left some of your closest friends behind."

Overcome by the thoughtfulness of the gift, Fulbright lunged forward and gave Umar a great, big hug. The bird stirred and squawked. "Thank you!" he exclaimed. "I do not know how I can ever repay you, Umar."

Umar patted him on the back and smiled. "You fixed my ship. What more could you do for me?" Umar made his way to his room and then turned around to look back at Fulbright. "Oh and Fai-sahl? Welcome to Jarra."

Fulbright smiled as he watched Umar retreat into his room and shut the door. The Khamelia squawked softly, breaking his trance. He turned and walked down the dimly lit hallway of cold, hard mud until he found an open door to the right of him. He peeked in and found Shiou standing over a water basin in between two single beds, washing his sand blasted face. Fulbright entered calmly, careful not to wake the bird. He set his gifts at the foot of his bed and threw his leather satchel onto the bed.

The flap fell ajar, and a few of his contents spilled out onto the woven bed sheet of midnight blue and silver stars speckled in a repeating pattern. He sighed as he sank onto his bed and began to gather his wineskin, coins, and the bundled up candle that Malay had given him already three days ago. Fulbright stared at the dark green fabric that embraced the candle with multiple folds, secured with a large knot.

Light green thread trailed the outer edges of the cloth with images of embroidered meadow foliage, a motif commonly seen on textiles and wardrobes in Smyrna where Malay's father was from. Fulbright tugged at the knot, peeling back the fabric until something inside of it caught a bit of the light of the oil lamp in the room. He gasped. Shiou, his eyes tightly shut while water dripped down from his wet hair, reached for a towel quickly and rubbed his face dry. He peered over at Fulbright, whose back was facing him.

"What's the matter?" he asked curiously.

Fulbright slowly turned around to face Shiou, his hands pulling the cloth entirely off of the candle as he held it against the light. The candle was not made out of ordinary wax, or even wax at all, but out of a jagged prism with wick protruding from the top. Distorted shapes in rainbow hues danced and flitted across the ceiling with each turn that Fulbright made.

Shiou's eyes widened to the shape of a quarter moon as the glass-like candlestick glimmered in the dimly lit room. Fulbright sat the candle on a nightstand that was nestled between the two beds as Shiou removed the basin and pitcher from its surface. Fulbright picked up the small oil lamp that rested on the window sill and brought the flame close to the wick of the candle.

"No!" Shiou whispered harshly.

Fulbright jumped before exhaling in agitation. "What? I was going to light it. Its an-"

"Alodian candle, I know," Shiou replied.

"So then you know what it does," Fulbright answered, trying to hide his ignorance about the candle.

Shiou nodded. "I also know that an extraordinary candle such as this cannot be lit by an ordinary flame."

"Well, how are we supposed to light it?" Fulbright asked, placing the lamp next to the candle.

Shiou answered Fulbright with a wild grin, so wide that his eyes hid in the folds of his cheeks. The nightstand was positioned underneath a window with heavy tapestry drawn over it to keep out any light. Shiou pulled the tapestry to one side, revealing a pair of wooden shutters which he pushed out until they slapped against the outer wall of the inn. Then, Shiou blew out the lamp, plunging Fulbright's confused expression into darkness. In a moment, remnants of Amaris' moonbeams permeated the window with a soft, delicate light, allowing Fulbright to catch Shiou's silhouette backing away from the window. They both stared at the candle, its polygonal sides now faintly illuminated with blue moonshine. A small beam of light stretched down toward the stiff wick, and rested its light over the candlestick.The wick began to smoke and sputter in the light. Fulbright and Shiou took a step away from the candle without taking their eyes away from the candlelight.

The sputtering stopped as a white flame instantaneously appeared. Silvery white flares churned around the heat of the flame. Blurred figures shifted in the irregular shape of the vessel with fragmented movements. Fulbright approached the light slowly, the flame unphased by his movement through space. Familiar faces, distorted in size in some areas, were stitched together like a quilt of memories of incongruent patches. The flame grew brighter with a fuzzy, almost haunting sound accompanying it.

"Do you hear that?" Fulbright asked as he clasped his hands over his ears.