Tales of Fire and Ruin - Chapter 5: Chapter 5

In the afternoon, on our third day of travel, I saw the bright sparkling of sunlight reflecting on waves in the distance. The briny sea air of the Thundercoast stung my nose. I was home.
The wilderness had its downsides, like brigands, bears, and other beasts that wanted to make my innards become outards. Being at the Thundercoast, however, brought on an abundance of other problems that couldn't be solved with a bow and arrow. I supposed nothing stopped me from letting thunder rain down on the debt collectors and unmannerly townsfolk, but I best not take uncle Harold's route of 'handling the situation.' We had all seen where that led.
Endris wanted to take a detour to the coast and see the ocean, and I happily obliged. Frankly, I'd agree to anything that slowed our journey so it would take longer to deliver the bad news about the dragon hunt.
Resting on the beach was no punishment, either. The ocean was the thunder god's domain, and I felt at peace in the golden sand, listening to the crashing of waves rolling inland and the fizzling of foam. Rocky bits and shells were scattered all across the shoreline. While Endris and Oleander took off their shoes and waded in the salty water, I looked for seashells and picked up the prettiest ones. Then I chose a nice spot near the water, crouched, and aligned the seashells in a branch shape. Artistic endeavours didn't come naturally to me, so it took a while and plenty of rearranging before I was satisfied.
A shadow casting overhead made me look over my shoulder. Oleander stood behind me, craning his neck to see my work of art in the sand. It surprised me the elf would even come near me. Oleander had taken my warning to heart. Ever since our talk in the grass, he hadn't spoken to me much. He rode with Endris and stayed out of my way. Now, he smiled at me like I had never snapped at him at all.
"Why are you drawing a Y in the sand?"
I smirked. "Why do you think?"
"Oh..." Oleander blinked. His smile lingered on his lips. I didn't know if he actually caught my wordplay or kept smiling because he didn't know how to respond. I supposed it didn't matter.
"Whenever I'm at the beach, I recreate the thunder god's mark to thank them for blessing me with a touch of their power," I explained.
I stood and tugged on the collar of my shirt, revealing a small part of the mark etched into my skin, chest to hip. It looked like a lighting scar, but was not quite a scar. The lines were a dark shade of greenish brown like a tattoo, but it wasn't a tattoo either.
The thunder god had visited me when I was five. My sisters and I were playing robbers in the woods. One moment I was running through a clearing, the next there were whispers filling my mind and a hot searing pain flaring up from my abdomen to my chest. I blacked out. When I came by, the mark was carved into my flesh and storms obeyed me. My parents had wept tears of joy, hugged me tight, and threw a feast at our mansion.
I'd been a simple child, happy with the hugs and the attention and not realising how much had changed. I stuffed my face with cake at the banquet while my parents bumped me, the nondescript middle child, to the top of the inheritance line. I'd played tag with the girls visiting our estate, unaware their parents were discussing arranged marriages with my parents.
Oleander studied the shells in the sand, then my chest. I could almost feel his eyes caressing the mark, and my skin felt hot. I let go of my shirt so the fabric sprung back up and hid my chest.
Oleander's gaze shifted to my face. "Are you going to make the entire mark in the sand?"
I groaned. "No. Look, I know it's tradition, but it's not fair, alright? I got a whole damn lightning bolt, branches and all, covering my entire upper body, while some people only get a small mark."
"The markings continue much further down then?" Oleander's gaze slowly travelled from my chest down to my belt.
A flush crept up my neck. Endris stepped beside Oleander and shot me a stern look, warning me to not joke inappropriately. He needn't be concerned. I might've taken this remark as flirting had it been coming from anyone other than the elf. Oleander didn't seem capable of innuendos. If I wasn't allowed to joke, however, all I had to offer was awkward bumbling.
"Yes, it continues further down," I pressed out of my throat.
Oleander nodded, a twinkle in his eye. "The thunder god sounds benevolent for sharing their power. I am certain it's your intent that matters to them, not how elaborate the gesture is."
I shrugged. "Hey, if they wanted grand gestures, they should've chosen an artist."
"Are elves ever storm-touched?" Endris asked Oleander.
Oleander hummed. "Roaring, uh, I mean storm-touched exists, yes. Elves also sing or bleed."
I froze, and so did Endris. We exchanged a glance.
"Bleed?" Endris repeated stiffly.
"Yes. Bleeders take a knife and draw extraordinary power from the lifeblood of themselves or others."
"Yeah," I said, elongating the word. "Don't mention lifeblood magic in town. It's sensitive, we shall say." I dragged a hand up my forehead. "What are we even doing, bringing an elven man to the Thundercoast?"
Oleander's eyes grew wide. "I'm sorry!" he stammered. "I promise I won't speak of magic."
Endris glared at me, then turned to Oleander. "Laurence is not saying this to be cruel. Human towns and rules make little sense if you didn't grow up there."
I snorted. "They make little sense if you did grow up there. Anyway, come to me or Endris with questions. Nobody else."
"For once, I agree with you," Endris said. He lowered himself to the ground and started brushing sand off of his feet to put his shoes back on.
The elf hung his head and followed Endris' example. I couldn't help feeling a pang of sympathy. Oleander was a hated stranger here. It wasn't his fault he didn't know the customs and rules, but I couldn't make it my problem either. I already had telling my parents and siblings I'd failed them to look forward to. A lump formed in my throat at the thought of facing them within the next hour.
Soon, we'd reach the village. If I squinted, I already saw the weather-worn Montbow mansion sitting quietly on the highest cliff. Once a beacon of hope, the building was now reduced to a crumbling, mildew-ridden, and overgrown ruin. Scarred by sieges, stripped by vultures.
I thought we'd at least have a peaceful ride along the shore before we arrived, but then I spotted movement up ahead. We weren't alone on the beach; there were a few figures on horseback. I counted three horses.
At first I simply thought they were townsfolk out fishing. The fishermen dragged giant nets behind them, catching shrimp while on horseback. As we rode closer, however, Endris suddenly raised his hand.
I halted my horse, and so did Endris.
"They are moving our way," Endris curtly informed me.
I shrugged. "But they're just townsfolk, aren't they?"
"We shouldn't take risks."
I grimaced. "Point taken."
Overseas, there was a new meaning to the word Montbow: traitor. People there spat on our flag. If these fishers weren't townsfolk, but sailors from the port of Richris overseas, they wouldn't show me any mercy.
I breathed in and out deeply a few times. "If they're enemies, leave and find a way to the mansion to warn my family," I told Endris.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Oleander digging his nails into the leather saddle, while Endris nodded. "...Understood."
I drew my bow and charged an arrowhead with thunder. Soon, however, it was proven unnecessary for me to draw my weapon. The figure at the front rode a spotted horse with a yellow saddle pad—the colour of my family—and I recognised her as my mother. The other two figures were my sister Valda, and my brother Conrad. My relief about not having to fight enemies was short-lived, however.
"Shit," I swore. "Can we never just arrive somewhere inconspicuously as planned? This is worse than Richris sailors."
The elf needed to stay quiet. If he already complimented me, he would absolutely try to compliment Valda and Conrad.
Conrad towered over pretty much everyone, and made for a striking man with two different coloured eyes - dark brown and amber - light brown skin, and a stoic mentality. Valda's biggest appeal was in her dimpled smile, cleverness, and infectious laughter. Traits she'd inherited from my mother, though mother was not smiling a lot lately. My sole selling point was storm-touched powers. I had wondered if the thunder god had chosen me because he took pity on me for being surrounded by near flawless siblings.
"Speak as little as you can," I warned Oleander.
Oleander bit his lip. "I understand."
There was a tremor in his voice. Oleander had calmed down around me and Endris the past few days, but now he reminded me of the cowering, tearful mess he'd been when we first met. Granted, I had pointed a knife at him.
"They don't know who you are. They will not hurt you," Endris tried to soothe Oleander while I dismounted.
My sister Valda was the first to call out, "Laurence!" Waving enthusiastically, she jumped off her horse and ran towards me.
"Valda!" I laughed and caught my sister in a hug. I lifted her and spun her around, while Conrad and mother also got down from their horse.
Mother greeted me after Valda with a kiss on my cheek. It would forever be strange to see my noble-born mother wearing worker's pants. While mother had never done rough handwork a day in her life, she'd immediately started learning how to fish, hunt, and fight with a sword when it became necessary for the survival of our family. I'd always believed Etta Montbow would endure hardship longer than any of us. The walls of our mansion would crumble before she would.
Conrad didn't greet me as warmly as Valda and my mother. He stayed at an arm's length and only offered me a brief handshake with lips pressed to a thin line. In order for me to become the heir of the Montbow family, Conrad, as the eldest, lost his title. I was used to our exchanges feeling like being submerged in a cold bath, but it still stung every time.
Warm greeting or cold greeting, all three of my family members looked at my neck, searching for a dragon's tooth on the necklace Gisela, my other sister, had made for me. But the necklace I'd purposefully hidden below my shirt lacked any hunting trophies.
A stone settled in my stomach, and I stalled for a little while longer. I gestured at Endris and Oleander, who were waiting behind me. "You already know Endris, and this is Oleander. Oleander, this is my mother, Lady Montbow, my sister Valda, and my brother Conrad."
Oleander only smiled nervously, because I had told him not to speak. When Endris bowed, Oleander also made an awkward bow. Valda beamed. She was melting into a puddle at the sight of Oleander trying to be courteous, and I couldn't blame her.
"A pleasure," my mother spoke, but she wouldn't let herself get distracted by my ruse of pleasantries. She focused on me and asked that one dreadful question: "How did the hunt go?"
I didn't need to answer; everyone could read my silence. Conrad didn't visibly react. Valda's eyebrows squished together, and my mother tried to keep her composure, but I saw the flash of panic in her expression before she could conceal it.
"It's alright, Laurence," she said, brushing her fingers through my hair. "I'd rather have you home alive than buried on that mountain."
Mother's voice said: it's alright. Her body language said: what will we do if the debt collectors come back and we don't have the source of coin we promised them? What if they send mercenaries to rough us up again, and another one of us loses use of our sword arm or worse in the scuffle like your father?
I breathed in and out deeply. "The dragon escaped in a landslide. But Endris here offered a second hunt for free within a month's time."
Endris dipped his head. "If you would allow me, I'll bring Oleander to the Starcross woods where he lives, and then I would stay at the Montbow mansion until it's time for Lord Laurence's second attempt at the dragon hunt. Lord Laurence bravely rescued Oleander's life, and I would also like to repay the Montbow family by offering my services for free for two months."
"That's very generous, Endris. We gladly accept," Mother replied.
Valda could no longer contain herself and went over to Oleander. "Hello, my name is Valda," she introduced herself again. "Oleander, you simply must tell me: what do you use to make your hair silky like that?"
"My hair? Oh, I use a blend of herbal oils," Oleander replied softly.
"Splendid! Can I touch it?"
Oleander tensed like a cornered prey animal. "Uh, yes," he said, because nobody said no to Valda.
With a giggle, Valda stroked Oleander's long, silvery ponytail. I flinched with every touch and I was sure Endris did as well. After a few nerve-wrecking moments, I grabbed my sister's arm and gave it a little tug to make her stop touching Oleander's hair.
"That's quite enough. Oleander's not a doll, and he's fragile. He lost his memory."
Valda gaped at me. "He lost his memory?"
"We found him in the valley, Lady Montbow," Endris explained. "He would have died, but Lord Laurence saved him."
"Let's not let that gift go to waste then," Mother said. "We'll talk further in the mansi—"
"Oh no, I really don't think that's a good idea," I hastily interjected. "Endris and Oleander can stay in town at the inn."
Mother raised a brow. "You said Endris will work for our family. That means he stays at the mansion. His friend can too, if he can earn his keep." Her eyes shifted to Oleander. "And I do have a small job in mind that will earn you a night at the mansion and supplies for the road, Oleander."