The Forgotten Land of Myria

ANGUS

It felt like I had been asleep for a decade. I rubbed my eyes without a clue as to how long I had been sleeping. My hands felt like cardboard. I looked around. Everything was white. The drapes, the sheets, my clothes. My mouth felt pasty and my tongue was dry.

I felt a disturbing itch in my chest and when I tried to reach it, my arm throbbed like it had just been yanked off and I muffled a scream. Someone must have heard it because a second later the white curtains that surrounded me opened. A slim woman with a long face and round cheeks walked in. Her hair was tied in a bun.

“I see you woke up,” she said.

“Who are you?”

“I’ve been taking care of you for the past week.” I frowned. “A whole week?”

She nodded.

“Well, that answers a few questions,” I chuckled. As I spoke, she grabbed my face and pressed it together awkwardly. Her eyes were quite globular, disproportionate to her rosy cheeks. She dropped my head back.

“I’m sorry--What’s your name?” I asked.

“Ardelia St. Germaine.”

“St. Germaine. As in--Paris?”

The woman chuckled. Of course. She had no idea.

“Maybe,” she then responded, and winked at me. Then a clearer question came into mind: Where the bloody hell was I?

To my relief, a familiar face peered playfully through the curtains--Eleazar.

“He lives!” he said lazily, throwing his hands in the air. I smiled.

“Kupa!” Banebee peered over Eleazar’s shoulder.

“How is everyone?” I asked petting Banebee who had leapt onto my bed, sending a sharp pain through my arm, though I didn’t mind. It was good to see that fury face again. “Did they all make it back?”

I wanted to know everything about the outcome of the Quest, but Eleazar was reluctant to tell me. When I insisted, his expression darkened.

“Eleazar, I have the right to know,” I protested. He opened his mouth but shut it again, just as quickly. Then Ardelia walked back in the room with a jar of dried leaves.

“I’m going to have to spread these on your arm,” she said, crushing a handful of the leaves in her hand. When she pulled back the silk robe wrapped around my arm I shivered. My entire arm was swollen purple and withered like it was about to disintegrate.

“Why am I not healing? Did I react to the Myrrh? I had numerous allergies in the Commonland. What kind of leaves are these?”

Ardelia blanched.

“This isn’t something myrrh can handle. Not alone, anyway.

On my arm was a large wound bulging with pus and open flesh.

“If myrrh can be used to bend elements, why can’t it heal a simple...”

It was a sword wound--then it all fell into place. I flinched as the images came alive before my eyes and in a second my entire body felt dead.

The image was clear--me holding up a sword...

“Eleazar” I croaked, horrified. “I--killed Eulisses.”

There was a second of stunned silence, and Eleazar said, as calmly as he could. “It wasn’t you--”

“Then what happened to me?” My knees shook in devastation as I pleaded. “Please.”

Eleazar sighed, shut his eyes, and explained.

“Theon--attempted to possess you, upon facing defeat. He took possession of your body--he attacked everyone else. He did all those things. There was nothing you could do.”

Then I thought for a moment.

“Back in the beginning of our journey--didn’t Paewyn say Theon could only possess someone if that someone left an opening?”

“Yes, but--”

“Then I did do it,” I said, feeling a two-hundred-pound block of guilt drop on me. “It was my fault--I left Theon an opening. I invited him in.”

Eleazar was ready to argue, but he knew I wouldn’t be easily persuaded. Instead, he leaned closer--with a fierce, look in his eyes--and said: “If you still think you’re the one responsible for that incident, then you haven’t learned a single thing from it.”

I felt my non-burnt hand make a fist, but before I could say anything else, Ardelia cleared her throat. The last bit of dignity in me flushed away, realizing that she was still there-that someone else had heard that I’d killed a fellow hero.

“You have other visitors,” she said sharply, marching over to the curtains. Roy, who was waiting on the other side, trudged in nervously. He scratched his arm and kept his head down as if looking for something to say.

“How are you?” he said, avoiding eye contact. I showed him my burnt arm.

“What about you?” I answered, just as coldly. He shrugged in response.

“Well, at least you managed to stay awake through the whole thing this time,” I said. My attempt to lighten the mood, for my own sake, didn’t work either. He chuckled nervously, still refusing to make eye-contact. Silence.

“Thank you,” I mumbled. As Roy slowly lifted his eyes, a second face peered curiously in through the curtains, and I instantly recognized the short figure, the spectacle-enlarged eyes.

“Godfrey!”

He rushed in to greet me, and the mood automatically lit up. The four of us talked for a while--mostly Eleazar and Godfrey, really, Roy and I simply watched them argue about which one was the most skilled fighter, with smirks on our faces. After a while, Roy excused himself, having been summoned by the Matahi Chairmen.

“That reminds me,” Godfrey said excitedly, as Roy closed the curtains behind him. “We will be having another Holutu Night tonight, where we will present the Legion of Heroes once again, along with three of our newest Myrians.”

“Three?”

“Alice, that is if she wakes up--she been on and off since you all got back--and Tanya and Zeff,” Eleazar said. “Oh, and Isabelle’s fine by the way,” Godfrey winked. A surge of excitement rolled through me.

“And the twins--Myrians?”

“Well, they are in good hands,” Eleazar said, as he pointed a subtle finger to himself. A grin slid over my face.

“I’m sure they are,” I said chuckling.

“Well, we’d better be off,” Godfrey snapped as he and Eleazar got up to leave. “The healers will be here soon for a final checkup before you prepare for the feast. You’ll have to avoid doing anything with that arm, and I mean anything. We’ll see you soon, then?”

I nodded. As the white curtains closed once more, I tilted my head back, resting in my thoughts.

As I prepared for the Holutu Night later that evening, I rejoiced in a warm feeling that I had felt only once before--the day I first arrived in Myria.

However, the guilt and the shame were also strong lingering feelings. So strong that they overshadowed my eagerness to see everyone again. To even show up to the Holutu Night at all. Grief weighed on me again, pushing me to slump back on the bed, half-dressed.

It didn’t matter what people said--a person had died by my hand. I took a person’s life. And not just any life. A friend.

I clenched my teeth. I wasn’t going to survive this. I knew what I had to do--and I had already made up my mind.