Roses on Fire ~ The Tale of Roses and Thorns 2.
Chapter 22~Shadowfort

After weeks of walking they reached a waste, sandy land. For a long time they’d been walking through huge, centuries old forests, which were replaced by steppes and later by deserts. Now no matter where they were looking, the only thing they saw was the infinite ocean of sand. Here, the night was frosty, and the days were hot.

For Ivelle it was inexplicable, how could there be that huge differences between lands in the same zone.

“Magic.” she had to remind herself every once in a while.

From what she knew, this once beautifully forested land was destroyed by the first war. She was sure that the fairies and elves used their magic against the beautiful land.

And then again, the question was given: Who’s the good guy in this story? And who’s the bad guy?

Are the elves and fairies the good guys? Those who’d made sure that people forgot the Forgotten Lands and the first war? Those who destroyed this beautiful kingdom? Did it make them good guys that now they are on the good side? Are there even sides? And what about the other kingdoms?

The dragons, for example. They could’ve remind the people of what happened here. But seemingly they didn’t. Why not?

Was Adrastos and the dark elves of Nendawin the bad guys? Or had they been just playing the role others had given to them?

Ivelle had so many questions, and still, she got so few answers.

She sighed and looked at the starry sky, and from the sky to Adrastos. He was looking into the distance at a huge rock. Ivelle knew although she couldn’t see it, that Fülöp was standing there talking to a guard of Prigon, trying to convince him to let them in. She was also sure, that Adrastos could see them.

“What were you thinking about?” asked the man next to her, not taking his eyes off the huge rock.

“Hm? Oh, nothing.” she said with a light smile and followed his gaze. Adrastos just raised an eyebrow but said nothing. One thing Ivelle liked about Adrastos was that he knew when to leave Ivelle alone and when not to push a subject any further.

“He’s coming back.” he said and picked up their stuff from the sandy ground.

When Fülöp reached them, he had a smile on his face.

“They let us in.” he said simply.

"That went too easy.” thought Ivelle but didn’t mention it to any of the men. Instead, she followed Fülöp to the rock.

“By the way,” started Fülöp on his usual cheery voice “I told him, that Ivelle’s sick and that’s why we’re looking for their famous healer.”

“You told him what?” asked Ivelle indignantly, stopping in her track.

“What?” asked Fülöp innocently “I had to tell him something.”

Ivelle wanted to retort, but Adrastos was quicker.

“It doesn’t matter now.” he said calmly “You’ll have to pretend, Ivelle.” he said and took a step closer. Ivelle just nodded and hid her face as much as she could. For the first time in her life she was grateful for her pale skin. She gave her bag to Adrastos and leaned against him, pretending to be weak, trying to walk as unsteadily as she could. As they got closer to the guard, she coughed a few times, hoping that she’ll convince the man.

When they reached the rock, the armoured man stood in front of her, and looked her up cautiously. After a few, tense moments, he walked up to the rock, put his hand on it, and revealed a small door.

They followed the man into the barely lit tunnel without any word. The tunnel was chilly and clossish, and after a while Ivelle started to feel claustrophobic. Fortunately as they got further into the tunnel, it became more and more spacious.

They soon reached a cave filled with shabbily dressed people. They had tired face, and their eyes were telling about long unhappy lives, that their mouth couldn’t speak of.

“Welcome to the city of Shadowfort.” said the guard on a sarcastic voice and showed around. “I can’t go any further with you. Have luck with finding the healer.”

“Thank you.” said Fülöp to the guard as he walked away. Ivelle coughed one last, and when the guard was out of earshot she straightened.

“Where should we begin?” she asked looking at Adrastos.

“I don’t know.” he said honestly and ran a hand through his hair “Let’s ask around. Someone must know where the healer is.” he said and started his way through the mass of people.

Seemingly, no one knew anything. They walked around for hours, asking and listening to people, but no one said a thing.

Ivelle leaned against the stone wall, wiping her face and blowing out her breath.

“It’s hopeless.” she said “We’ll never find him.”

Adrastos took a deep breath but said nothing. He closed his eyes but opened it immediately. He cautiously looked around.

Ivelle followed his gaze, and after a moment she saw it. Some of the people were enclosing them, and under their rags, armours were glinting.

The soldiers reached under their rags slowly, probably for their swords. Adrastos did the same, but it was hopeless: they were outnumbered.

“I see the missy’s getting better.” said the familiar voice of the guard behind them. “How lucky.”

Adrastos turned around.

“We mean no harm.”

“The fairy-kind always means harm.” he said and drew out his sword. Adrastos, Ivelle and Fülöp did the same. The tension was rising, and civilians were gathering around them.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” said Adrastos to the guard.

“You’re outnumbered.” he grinned and attacked Adrastos.

Yes, they were outnumbered, but they had something the soldier’s didn’t. Adrastos. He was a well-trained elf warrior, who could use magic and sword at the same time.

Ivelle didn’t have much time to watch Adrastos fight, as the other soldiers attacked her and Fülöp too.

She kicked a man on his knee, making him fall. She cut the face of another. From the corner of her eyes she saw Fülöp fall to the ground, she quickly turned to Adrastos, who was still fighting the guard who led them here.

Ivelle was scared from the sight of Adrastos. His eyes were filled with anger and hatred and killed one soldier after the other. His leather coat was bloody. Ivelle froze. That’s not the man she got to know.

Suddenly she felt something hard hitting the back of her neck, and the world darkened around her.

She woke up to the throbbing pain in her head. She slowly opened her eyes, and blinked a few times, letting her eyes adjust to the light. She reached to her neck and rubbed it. She sat up slowly and grunted.

She was in a dark cell. As she looked around, she saw a dark figure on the other end of the cell. she squinted her eyes and managed to take out the form in the dim light of the cell. It was Adrastos. He was laying on his side with his back to Ivelle.

Next to her someone groaned.

“My head.” she smiled as she looked at Fülöp. Everyone was alive.

Thanks God she thought.

“Where are we?” asked Fülöp sitting up.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” she said and stood up slowly.

She went to Adrastos and turned him on his back. His jacket was still bloody and there were some scratches and cuts on his face, but otherwise he seemed to be alright.

As Ivelle touched his face to have a better look at his cut, she felt that Adrastos’s skin was hot. Too hot. He put a hand on his forehead and frowned.

“What?” asked Fülöp, who managed to sit up in the meanwhile.

“He has fever.” she said worriedly.

“What?” asked Fülöp, quickly standing up, and walking up to them “Is he injured?”

“Apart from a few cuts and scratches no.” Now it was Fülöp’s turn to frown.

Suddenly they heard footsteps and voices from the distance. Ivelle hurried up to the door.

“Hey!” she yelled “Hey! Is anyone there? We need help!” at first there was no answer, then they heard the footsteps getting closer and closer.

A young soldier appeared from the infinite darkness of the tunnel. He stopped in front of the bars and looked at Ivelle.

“What?” he asked on an indifferent voice.

“My friend is ill. He needs treatment.” she said turning her head towards Adrastos.

“Of course he’s ill. He’s been cut with a poisoned blade.” said the man shaking his shoulders.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“And that’s it? You’ll just let him suffer?” asked Ivelle indignantly.

“If he’s lucky he’ll survive. If not, he’ll die.” said the man and walked away.

“Wait!” shouted Ivelle, but the man didn’t turn back “Douchebag.” she murmured and went back to Adrastos.

“You have to get better. You hear me? You have to get better!” she whispered in his ears and wiped away the tears in her eyes. She couldn’t be weak, not now, not here.

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