He was right — this area was very different from our map and the information we had, both of which were two centuries out of date. The stagnant river had changed its course and completely swallowed up the forest that used to be here.
The river banks were now sopping wetlands, and I couldn’t see a single place where it would be easy to land our boat. On top of that, this place was home to many dangerous creatures, like those water serpents. It provided a stark reminder why these were dark regions that mankind hadn’t ventured into for the past two hundred years.
“Ghelreis, do you see anything you recognize here?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “This is all just too…”
“Oh!” Al suddenly exclaimed. “What about those, Ghelreis?”
Everyone looked in the direction Al was pointing: down at the water made clear by the Prayer of Purification. I looked down, and under the shimmering surface I could see the remnants of a line of buildings.
“Hmm.” Ghelreis looked at those ruins and started to think.
“What do you think?” Al prompted after a pause.
“The architecture of these buildings…” Ghelreis said slowly. “They’re of elven construction. I’m sure of it.”
“Ohh, nice, brother!”
“Good eye.”
“Yeah. Good going, Al.”
“I really didn’t do anything,” Al said with some embarrassment as we all praised him.
“Which would that be on the map, then?”
“Probably this…”
While allowing our boat to drift slowly away from the serpent carcasses, we all investigated the map together. Once we’d pinned down our rough location, we started moving again.
However, because this whole area was polluted by the Taboo Word, steering with the spell Tailwind wasn’t working out very well. Even if I used the Prayer of Purification to clean the air and water surrounding us, it wasn’t as if that would immediately do something about the weakened fae. Some improvement could be expected if I factored in Menel’s skills as an elementalist and his power as a future Lord of the Woods; however, Reystov correctly pointed out that if we made large changes, there was a chance that the demons would notice.
Because of that, we decided to turn to more primitive methods. We stopped relying on the sail and decided to drop oars and row. Menel stood at the boat’s stern, gripping the tiller and calling out to us. We fell into rhythm with his voice and rowed forward as two teams on the port and starboard sides.
The water was dark and stagnant. There were lines of trees withered white, all large and hundreds of years old, and they made me think of the corridors of columns called stoas within ancient temples. It was a forest where even sound had died, except for the occasional unsettling noise from aquatic creatures. At some point a thin white haze had covered the area. We could only see a vague outline of the Rust Mountains.
The boat continued forward amid the sounds of oars creaking and pushing through the water. There was some conversation at first, but even that lessened as time went on. Around the time that the dismal atmosphere of our surroundings finally caused us all to go silent, I sensed something in the water to starboard.
When I looked, I saw bubbles forming, and then several hands appeared, followed by horribly pale arms, extending out of the stagnated water. Some had rotted, while others were all bone. The arms began to struggle and cling to the boat. The vessel groaned.
As our boat wobbled, Reystov and Ghelreis each brought out their weapons.
They were magical weapons, newly acquired in the city of the dead, and would probably work well against undead.
“Enemies?” Menel was especially cool-headed. He took the time to ask me, even as he stood ready to draw his weapon.
“No.” I shook my head. “They’re just suffering.” I extended my hand to one of the arms grasping the boat. The arm had become bloated with water and stank of a raw, fishy smell. As I took its hand, I heard Al’s breath catch. “It’s okay,” I said, hoping that my intent would get through to the undead. “It’s okay now.”
You don’t have to suffer anymore. You don’t have to keep resenting. You don’t have to keep trying.
“You won’t wish misfortune on anyone anymore. You won’t curse them, and you won’t make them suffer.” I felt the strength leaving the arm I was holding onto and all the other arms around the boat. “I’ll handle everything somehow.”
It’ll be okay now, even if you don’t keep on trying.
It’ll be okay, even if you don’t keep on protecting.
It’ll be okay, even if you don’t fight.
It’ll be okay, even if you don’t bear the burden.
You can let it go. So—
“Please, rest long and easy.” I spoke each word slowly and prayed.
“Gracefeel, god of the flame. Repose and guidance.”
Divine Torch lit up in the cloudy sky. The miraculous floating flame began to guide the wandering souls back to the eternal cycle. Several pale-blue specters appeared, fading softly into vision. They had beautiful braided hair, pointed ears that reminded one of bamboo leaves, and handsome features.
“——”
They faced us in silence and gave us a proud and elegant bow.
“Ohh…” Ghelreis’s voice trembled. This must have been exactly what the elves of Remmirath Branch had looked like in bygone days.
“——”
They tried to speak; perhaps they had something they wanted to tell us. But it wasn’t to be. Their slumber at the bottom of the river had stolen the language from their throats. It was a hard sight to witness, but they were graceful in spite of this. They gave a beautiful shrug, then pointed in a direction with a slender finger. Spinning the finger in a circle — perhaps that meant “as fast as you can?”
“We should go that way? As swiftly as possible?”
A nod came back. Then, the one standing at the front raised two fingers, made a fist, and held it in front of his heart. The motion was seamless.
“Will, that’s…”
“Don’t worry, I know what it means.” I returned them the same gesture. It was a friendly gesture of parting. “May the blessing of the flame be with you,” I said. Then, with gentle smiles, the ancient elves of Remmirath faded and disappeared.
As Al, Ghelreis, and Reystov stood in silence, Menel spoke suddenly. “Let’s go. Full speed in that direction. Now. Hurry!”
“Huh?”
“Don’t trust an elf’s sense of time!” Sounding slightly panicked, Menel called to the elementals with a quite forceful tone and used the Tailwind spell once more. Then, as he applied the Waterwalk technique on himself extra thoroughly, he shouted, “You know those stories you hear? About when elves say, ‘Wait a bit,’ it means, ‘In a year or so’? Those are true!” The boat rocketed forward at incredible speed, cutting through the stagnant water and advancing through the mist. “Those guys with their chill sense of time just told you ‘as fast as possible,’ brother! You better—”
A scream reached us from somewhere deep in the mist.
“I feckin’ knew it!” Menel cursed, and then yelling loudly, he sprinted into the mist with the quickness of a skipping stone.
Menel didn’t normally speak when he was fighting. Shouting a war cry brought out your power and helped to negate fear, but that was a warrior’s way of fighting, not a hunter’s. Menel moved in silence and killed in silence. There were probably two reasons he was raising his voice now despite that: to communicate his presence to the screamer and to allow us to follow him without losing track of where he was. Leaving his voice as our guide, he led the way farther and farther into the mist.