Highwater and Glass

The Passage of Crows, Chapter 4 - Oran

Navinia LeMorae was true to her word, providing supplies, food, tents, ten horses, a horseman to wrangle them, two porters, a medic, and her personal handmaiden, Salmi. Despite the traveling accommodations, Horus opted to take the snail shell, either as his personal preference or out of silent protest for Navinia's involvement.

They traveled by ferry from Port Shorishal's docks to Fel's Breath, a sleepy town in southeast Ravenshade with tall black towers poking through whirling sea mist. They presented their traveling documents and were waived through border security without so much as a search. Navinia's status as a traveling diplomat was beneficial to say the least.

It was Oran's the first time in the kingdom of Ravenshade and he found the foreign sights and sounds wonderous to behold. Many of the dark stone buildings were topped with cage-like chateaus. They were unreachable by stairs, only accessible by flight. They were exclusive homes to free sylphs who darted occasionally on feathered wings from tower to tower. He had only seen a free sylph once before. They were tall and slender with snow white skin and feathers. They had faces angular and slight with clawed hands and feet. Their backs were decorated with two pairs of wings. Their eyes were black with flecks of gold.

"Why are they called free sylphs?" Eloise asked, staring up in wonder. "What exactly are they free from?"

"A lot of things," explained Navinia. "The bonds of death, the ground, the masters they used to serve. Legend tells us that the free sylphs were created by powerful wizards up north. As sylphs they served their masters blindly, until one day they developed migratory patterns, like birds. When they traveled to this Isle of Einalia, they gained consciousness and free will. The people of Ravenshade welcomed them and have been allies ever since."

"What do you mean, they are free from the bonds of death?"

"As creatures of magic, they're blessed with youth and life eternal."

"Unless destroyed in battle," clarified Magister Goodfellow. "They don't return from that."

Navinia pretended not to hear him.

They stopped on the hillside overlooking the Shorishal River Delta at the end of their first travel day. The porters unloaded and set up tents while Salmi prepared meat and vegetables to be roasted by the fire. Horus, naturally, provided the flames.

The horseman, Garrick, was surprisingly a skillful lute player and entertained during mealtime with songs about the whistling spirits of The Sacred Crossing. He was a slender man with thinning ash blonde hair and a gravely baritone. When Oran closed his eyes, he could almost see the distant southern plains and the wafting, restless spirits in Garrick's lyrics.

"Do you know any songs from Hedgment?" The horseman asked Eloise after finishing his tune.

Eloise raised her eyebrows, surprised to be put on the spot.

"A few," she said. "Just one that's been on my mind."

"Can we hear it?" asked Salmi. She was a sweet girl of only sixteen. Oran had discovered her insatiable desire for stories of adventure during the ferry ride. She had a genuine thirst for knowledge. He couldn't help but wonder if she had carried the capacity for magic at one time.

Oran watched Eloise shrug off the embarrassment. Two cups of wine agreed with her.

"Do not fear, my daughter," she sang. "Tomorrow is your day. Your family stands beside you, your future's your feet. The scarlet sky is here tonight to gather all your prayers. Follow the lion, follow the lion, follow the lion, and tomorrow will be here."

Eloise bowed slightly from her seat and the others around the fire applauded. Oran knew all too well why the song was on her mind. Her sister's wedding, the hope for a better tomorrow. The more Oran got to know Eloise, the more he noticed the ways that they were not alike. Eloise wore her heart on her sleeve. Her feelings were apparent on her face and she would share them honestly simply by being asked. He admired how open she was, even as the world shut her out. She had a discernible desire to love and be loved. Sometimes, Oran couldn't decide if he wanted that for himself. He desired companionship, mutual respect, perhaps even adoration. But love was elusive and wild; breathtaking from a distance, dangerous up close. Love was a lion.