Freyja's Fire - Chapter 6 - A'mara Books

6

( Fenjaday, cont.)

Erion Sands

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The air stank of sulfur, hurting her eyes and nose. Rachel held a handkerchief to her nose as she investigated the smoldering pieces of the mountain which lay before her, like some giant skulls perched on a lookout over the sea. Except, there shouldn’t be sea… not where she was standing. The mountain had been incinerated by some huge supernatural force. Except that she didn’t remember such a thing happening – and she did at the same time.

As she neared the huge pieces of tuff, the heat still radiated from them. In her mind’s eye, she could see the red cloud that had flowed from Vendar in the early stages of its eruption. But rather than a single eruption, Vendar kept erupting, kept spewing it innards out onto the land.

The results crunched beneath Rachel’s feet, fine rocks and ash, some of it still warm under her leather slippers. She wasn’t sure how she could walk on it, when she thought about it. It should have been burning through the thin leather.

Some of the residents of the island had taken to ships, the few that hadn’t been destroyed by the tsunami following the initial warnings of the impending eruption. Those residents wished they had left with the Velantians when the aliens expelled the indigenous people with their strange gifts, their flaming swords and mind-reading capabilities. At least, they had been able to take their possessions with them.

The ones who left on the second sailing left just in time… as Vendar continued to belch and blow. Crops, houses, livestock… everything got left behind - just enough space in the ships for people and food. They didn’t know how far away land would be, after all. Though surrounded by water, the Velantians had never been sea-faring – except to fish and trade. There had never been a need.

Rachel’s own descendants had left on those earliest ships, far too gifted for the tastes of the dominating aliens. So, why was she here, now? Why dressed in her finest red gown, which trailed behind her, snagging on bits of lava and tephra.

In Rachel’s mind, the eruption reminded her of ones she’d read in history books – in England. About places like Mt. Mazama and Krakatoa – and sensationalist warnings she’d heard about Yellowstone. She wondered whether anything could survive such devastation! Looking around her now, she couldn’t see any sign that they had.

But she could.

Large birds circled over the remains of the island, diving to the ground here and there to gorge themselves on the dead and rotting – anything that hadn’t been cremated by the explosion.

In her mind, she saw the final explosion, the final cloud – as Vendar’s vomiting reached the very pits of itself. The water poured into what was left creating a violent, catastrophic explosion when the water superheated far beneath the mountain’s guts. When the cloud lifted, Vendar itself was gone, replaced by a deep water-filled caldera.

Velantia was no more. Just as Stella had once warned, Vendar had given life to Velantia, and the day had passed when he took it away again.

How could she still be in Velantia? There was nothing left.

How could she be alive? Nothing else had survived.

The beautiful land she and Katja had stumbled upon, quite by accident after a walk in England… The land Katja had ruled with Adrick, the land Rachel healed with Breyind… It was all gone.

“How can I be here?” Rachel asked.

< This has not happened yet,> the voice replied inside her. <But it is the fate of Velantia – just as Stella told you.>

“That must be centuries into the future. I do not have to worry about it.”

< It is. But you do. You will die when Vendar destroys Velantia.>

“You speak in riddles! I will be dead long before this happens! Aliens? Flaming swords? These things are make-believe!”

< How old is Stella?>

“In earth years, she’s nearly 600 years old, but that’s unusual. I can’t hope – or want – to achieve that!”

< But you can… and you must… if you are to protect your descendants from suffering the fate of those left behind on the day Vendar destroys.>

“How?”

< Ask Stella and return to the Sisters of Vasana in the Fire Swamps. You and your daughters must learn their secrets if you are to fulfill the prophesies.>

“Which prophesies?” she asked, but the vision had faded.

Instead of the radiant red gown, she was in a warm bed. The small body of her daughter snuggled between her and Breyind. She felt a kick from inside the swell of her tummy. It wouldn’t be long before their first son was born. She reached across Bridget and felt the strong arm of her husband – her bona fide prince.

She tried to fall back asleep, but she couldn’t. Neither could she justify pestering Doc to use his radio to contact Stella at this hour – not that either would refuse her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do that either. It wasn’t an emergency. But what would Stella say when she knew that Rachel had seen the destruction of Velantia!

“It’s okay, Mummy. I will survive. I will be in A’mara!”

Rachel heard Bridget’s small voice, but the child was still asleep. Besides, she wasn’t even two yet – far too young to utter such a complete thought! And where was A’mara?

Somehow, that knowledge made Rachel trust the words even more. She allowed the warmth of her daughter to lull her back to a more restful sleep.

Except for the shouting outside.

“A ship!” was all she could hear.

“What’s going on?” Breyind asked.

“Not sure,” Rachel replied.

“I will go find out. You need your rest.”

“Be safe!” she demanded.

“Of course!” he said, reaching over Bridget. His lips met Rachel’s.

“I want you!” Rachel whispered, not wanting to let him go.

“I want you too!” he reassured, then pulled on his clothes and left the tent.

Rachel lay quietly, listening to the increasing commotion outside. The only words she’d heard clearly was something about a ship. But ships came into port all the time, though rarely in the night. Something must have been different about this ship!