The Belirocean chronicles chapter 5

The Project
I must report a break in the parameters of the experiment here. Ledar has already used her single interference with the punishment of the universe. Now, in direct violation of the third rule she was given, she has appeared to a person, and is conversing with him. May the Head show mercy on her when this is all over... 

Chapter Five
Rijon spun around, and froze at the sight of a huge elf. The being was at least twenty feet tall. As Rijon watched, the elf began to shrink. There was no runoff of any kind, nor was there a loud explosion or anything spectacular about the process.
“Rijon Moonshine. You have served me well,” the being said.
“H-h-how do you know my name?” Rijon squeaked, cowering at the presence of this person.
“I know everyone’s name. I created you. I created the dragons. The world around you was formed in my hands. Beyond the world you live on, I made hundreds of other creatures, which populate dozens of worlds. I am the one the dragons pray to. I am the great goddess Ledar.”
Rijon almost fainted. Almost, but not quite.
“Where am I?” He whispered. “What happened to me? Am I dead?”
“Fortunately for you, no. I transported you out of harm’s way.”
“Why would you do that?” Rijon asked.
“I have need for you, Rijon Moonshine. The dragons have been punished enough. And yet the elves are still attacking. To cap it all off, the more moderate elves who do believe the wars should end are on severe diets at the moment, which will be hard to get off of. You and Barasila are the only hope I have of restoring the dragons to the title of the guardians of Alesranet.”
“Why not send some race from another world to scare the elves into peace?”
“Because that race might just act like the elves. And because all of my living creations, yes including elves and dragons, they are all millennia from being able to transport themselves to another planet.”
“What can two elves do against the whole army? I can’t rely on the dragons for help; I’ve hurt too many of them!”
“You will not be alone. You shall travel to the south east, and set sail for the island of Ledarnia. There you will gain in numbers, and you will gain in skill. Centuries from now, your country will fight the elves on the mainland. With the help of the dragons they were raised with, your descendants shall free the mainland, and they will guard the dragons from all threats,” Ledar said.
“You’re saying that Barasila and I will-”
“No Rijon. I know what you’re thinking. You will travel from the ocean the elves came from, and you will raise a small army. With this army, you will storm several prisons, and free those inside. Those men and women will follow you, and they will build a fleet of boats to sail on. In your exodus from Belirocea, you will collect many dragon eggs. From these eggs, a new population of dragons will arise, to help you in your task. Now go to the beach west of Te Sila pei Lardeio.”

Rijon suddenly found himself breathing in tons of saltwater. He swam desperately to the dark sand on the dry land, coughing up seaweed and salt.
“Rijon!” Barasila called weakly.
Rijon heard the sound of someone retching, and he struggled to his feet.
“Barasila?” He called. “Barasila, where are you?”
Rijon caught sight of her on the black sand. He sprinted towards Barasila, scared out of his wits. The elf’s eyes were closed , and Rijon was sure Barasila was gone.
“Barasila! Barasila! Ledar sailvi tes su! Answer me!” he roared.
“Rijon... You don’t need to curse...”
The voice came from all around him, and at the same time, it seemed to come from nowhere at all. And now, oh how Rijon hated that voice. The goddess had taken the woman he loved. As the tears raced out of his eyes, Rijon vowed that he wouldn’t rest until Ledar-.
“Rijon?”
A warm soft hand brushed Rijon’s tear flooded cheek.
“Rijon, you’re crying! What’s wrong?”
“Barasila, I love you so much!” Rijon cried, plastering the elf’s face with kisses.
Barasila sat up slowly.
“Rijon, what happened? Where are we?” She inquired, shaking her head in shock.
“It doesn’t matter where we are Barasila,” Rijon whispered. “All that matters is that we are together...”


Masia stood guard over her companions, a lone sentry in a sleeping camp. She sighed, a long deep whisper of air. The dragon had been waiting for three months for Rijon and Barasila to meet her at the rendezvous. When the two elves had finally remembered her, they appeared with 400 other elves, all armed with swords, and most of them barely more than bones. The deadly diets had taken their toll on the opposition to the war. Already, half of Rijon’s followers were falling behind, in a disorganized mob stretching almost half a mile.
There had been no pitched all out battles, although several elves had fallen in the prison riots. The losses were to be expected, and the pain brushed away easily. Yet Rijon had talked to Masia the night before, and he had admitted that he couldn’t go on much longer with all this death. It was understandable; no one wants to watch helpless people fall dead. But, as Masia pointed out, this was the only way the deaths would stop.
Masia wasn’t too thrilled about the fighting. Young Barasila fought alongside Rijon now. The elf was Masia’s only real outlet for her pain over Wyrsalin. Some things never change much. Before Rijon, Masia helped Barasila get over her grief over the death of her family, and helped her realize it wasn’t anyone’s fault. But now, Barasila was helping Masia conquer her grief over losing Wyrsalin. In war, everything is always changing, except the pointless killing and endless suffering.
Sighing again, Masia lowered herself and lay on the warm hard rocks on the ground.


Rijon yawned loudly. He stood up, and Barasila groaned softly. Rijon gently pulled the blanket they were sleeping under back over the elf. Then, Rijon went outside to think about what would happen today.
Masia was snoring gently at the guard post. Smiling grimly, Rijon let the dragon sleep. She had been on guard duty for the past three months without rest. She would need the sleep. Rijon walked past her, relishing the solitary of the darkness of an hour before the first light of the sun, and woke up the sentries of the morning.
An hour after sunrise, two guard escorted one of the most miserable elves Rijon had ever seen into his command tent. The elf was roughly thrown to the ground, and one of the guards kicked the elf as he said, “This dog was caught stealing food from the store!”
Rijon stood up in front of the whimpering elf.
“Please don’t kill me! I have a wife who’s eating for two! She’s been eating my rations, and I needed the food!”
“That’s a lie you filthy akaseral!” One of the guards yelled, pulling his foot back for another kick.
“Siate!” Rijon snapped.
The foot froze halfway to its target. The guard scowled angrily.
“I think we need to hear this man’s full story regarding the theft,” Rijon announced. “You do admit that you stole food right?”
“Yes! I did! It was for my wife!”
“I believe you,” Rijon said gently. He reached for the elf, and the man cringed, trying to back away. “I’m not going to hurt you. I want you to stand up and tell me what happened,” Rijon soothed.
“Sir! You can’t possibly be expecting this akaseral to tell the truth!” One of the guards yelled in outrage.
“I would thank you if you kept from cursing near me,” Rijon said calmly. “And, if you won’t give this man a chance to tell his side of the story, then I think you should leave us now.”
The guards both turned, and stormed out of the tent.
“Now, tell me how you got into this mess. But first, what is your name?” Rijon asked, talking to the trembling elf. “And while you’re at it, why don’t you try to satisfy your hunger with some of my rations.”
Rijon listened to Kasil Serande’s story, and he decided that the general population was probably also this starved. He decided to launch a series of raids against the elf stores along Te Arylo pei Zaliana, to gather more food. They needed to go southeast anyways, and, for the most part, the river was a southeasterly river.


Three days later, Rijon was once again in the dark confines of a prison. He and about 100 other elves were clearing the place room by room, and cell by cell. Occasionally, the sound of a buzzing arrow could be heard, followed by a thud and sometimes a faint cry of pain.
Rijon held up his hand, and the army of renegades halted right outside a door. Cautiously, Rijon turned the doorknob, and he suddenly flung the wooden barricade wide open.
Several arrows poured through the door, and Rijon bellowed, “Get down!”
The elves threw themselves to the floor, and most of the arrows whizzed over their heads. But at least ten elves sank silently to the floor, arrows stuck in their heads.
Rijon swore, and sent a spell through the doorway. He heard a thump as a guard fell dead with a snapped neck.
“Fire one arrow into that room from all of you!” Rijon yelled.
Arrows began humming through the air.
Inside the room, hidden just beyond the entrance, a young guard gripped his sword. 90 arrows shot past him, massacring all of his comrades.
“Now let’s see what we need to clean up!” The guard heard someone yell.
Several elves began swarming the room. The young elf waited until the captain stepped into the room. Silently, he swung his blade from the gloom.
Rijon caught the blade with his bare hands. He snapped the sword with a single word, and the guard fainted.


Five months after breaking free from the prison, Barasila came to Rijon with what would have been wonderful news at any time other than now.
They were setting up camp at Te Arylo Carasa, and Barasila was positive of the news she brought. All day long, she had worried about what Rijon was going to say about the gift she bore, and now she decided that, no matter what might happen, Rijon would be told that night.
So, Barasila searched out her beloved, and found him bent over a large map of Belirocea. The commander of the rebel mob was busy plotting the safest course to the ocean, but he stopped when Barasila stepped inside.
“Barasila!” Rijon said happily, standing up to embrace his wife. “What’s on your mind?”
“Rijon, I’m-” Barasila began.
A scout came barreling into the shelter. “My lord!” He spluttered. “My lord! Two Armies are approaching from the north and west! They’ll be on us by midnight!”
“Go! Tell the men to prepare for the fight of their lives! And set about 30 soldiers aside to escort the women and the children to the delta of Te Arylo Carasa!” Rijon cried.
For the next 30 minutes, Barasila stood in a discreet corner of the tent as scouts flew in and out of the command center. Occasionally, she was jostled by elves who were running to relay the commander’s orders to their superiors around the camp.
Finally, Rijon remembered Barasila. During a lull in the chaos, he said, ”Barasila, what were you saying?”
“I don’t want to distract you during your playtime,” Barasila said coldly. “Any other person would have held off the news that a battle might happen in six hours. Not you.”
“Barasila! I have to protect these men to the best of my abilities! Some of them have wives! Some of them have children! I don’t want to be the cause of those children’s’ grief! I don’t know about you but if I had a child, I would-”
“But you do have a child Rijon!” Barasila cried, tears coursing down her cheeks. “You have a wife and a child, and you need to take care of them!”
“What?” Rijon breathed. “What do you mean I have a child?”
“I’m pregnant Rijon!” Barasila sobbed.
Rijon was quiet. Finally, after a minute of deathly silence, he spoke.
“Barasila, I am so sorry,” He whispered, reaching for her.
Barasila pulled away.
“Oh sure. You’re sorry to hear that you’ll be deprived of a seasoned warrior for the next year, right?” She snarled, stepping away from Rijon. She spun on her heels and ran out of the tent.
“Barasila!” Rijon yelled. “Barasila, wait! That wasn’t what I said!”
He ran after her, bowling over a messenger from the other armies.
The messenger stood up, brushed himself off, and calmly went back towards the elves who had sent him. It didn’t matter. Whatever the outcome of the parlay had been, the rebels would have died. Either from the sword, or from the rope.

End of Part One