Joyous Fifteenth Joyous Day of Gilbetron to All!
It was impossible to cross the rocks by the time they reached the head, a shelf of stone plunging out into the sea, claiming a part of the ocean that the water seemed determined to take back. The waves crashed against Land’s End ceaselessly, a constant battering that should have weakened the land’s tenuous grip over time, and yet Land’s End held its ground.
A tiny harbour was nestled into the northern crevices where a series of long outcropping provided just enough shelter to moor boats. At one point, a road had led to the harbour, but all that was left of that trail now was a bear patch of rock that had had all traces of plantlife wiped away from the frequent treading of feet. Just getting a ship in was a somewhat hopeless feat, the sharp rocks rendering the old shipping lane nearly impassable. Indeed, if Land’s End had ever been a busy harbour, it was a long time ago, possibly as old as Serylla’s Ruins themselves.
Despite all that, a boat was in the water.
“It’s them!” Leve shouted.
Breathlessly, Gilbetron hurried past the last twist in the path. He looked down at the ship, which seemed to be preparing to leave berth.
“We made it,” he said determinedly. “We have to get down there. We don’t have much time!”
He began scrambling down the rocks, slipping in places by loose stones beneath the soles of his boots, but he always kept his balance, his fingers whitening on sharp ledges that cut deep sending slim rivulets of red blood down his palms and onto his wrists. He hardly noticed, his eyes fastened on the boat.
It was an old style ship, probably once in the Lystrian Navy before it had been wiped out in the Siege of Romyna Bay. It was said no vessels had survived Bobolonious’s ruthless onslaught, but Gilbetron could now see the fate of the fleet had been slightly exaggerated.
Telematrice was on the deck, along with six other women, all seemingly identical. Yet Gilbetron recognized her, at least he thought he did. He inability to tell the difference had gotten them all into this mess in the first place, but with the crystal the differences now seemed as obvious as night and day. His wife stood near the bow, radiant despite her grey cloak and chained wrists. The shackles caused blood to rush to his face. Filled with rage, he moved quicker than ever, descending as fast as gravity could safely pull him.
“Look out!”
The voice had come from above — he thought it was Nieka — but he had no time to react before a cloud of arrows filled the sky in front of him, their steel points racing toward him. One of the blades sunk deeply into his shin, causing him to slip. He fell the rest of the way, crashing into a blunt rock. For a moment, he forgot where he was, until water from the incoming tide lapped at his face.
Telematrice…
He heaved himself up, ready to continue toward the dock at any cost. But when he turned to look behind him, to check on the others, his eyes fell on a limp body hurled over a ledge at an unnatural angle.
“Nieka,” he whispered, momentarily ignoring the boat to race to the woman’s side. Blood was pulsing through an open wound on her side, dripping off the ledge and mingling with a pool of seawater. Her left arm was badly mangled, broken in at least three spots, with the elbow protruding backward at a right angle. He wiped a streak of blood off his cheek and hopped over to her.
“Gilbetron!” a voice shouted. It was Telematrice’s voice. He closed his eyes, trying to remember the last time he’d heard it. He couldn’t remember.
He twisted his neck around to watch the boat pulling out into open water. If he dove in, he could swim to it. It wasn’t too late. He could catch up.
But Nieka… Her chest suddenly lifted, breath sounds rattling in her throat. Could it be that she had survived the fall? One eye cracked open, just barely, and he could see her pupil darting beneath, searching for something —
Searching for him.
“Gilbetron!” Telematrice called again.
A single tear streaked down his cheek as he stood perfectly still, ready to either dive into the water or carry Nieka to safety.
“The healing rock cures all ailments with a single touch, save death,” Kesprit had said. Was it possible?
He looked out to sea, where the boat was passing beyond the outer rocks. Telematrice had stopped shouting, her arms dropped resignedly to her sides.
He blinked away another tear and made his decision. Thrusting his arms under Nieka to steady her, he raised her up. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Leve scrambling toward them, already ripping off a strip of cloth to use as a tourniquet.
“Gilbetron!”
But he knew it was too late.
-from The Gilbetron Tales.
Some resources:
The Joyous Days: An Orientation
The Gilbetron Tales: A Complete Archive
At last, we come to the end. It’s not exactly an end, of course, since there is always more to come. But it an end… for now. I hope you enjoyed this year’s collection of stories.
Anyway, and now for the photo we’ve been leading up to, a pivotal piece of this year’s story: Land’s End.
Taken: Month of Netylia, 32nd Day, 985 AG
Land’s End West comprises a narrow finger of land that protrudes from the mainland via the westernmost extension of the Geldstrof Range. It is the further point of land to the west and is completely uninhabited today, though it is known to have had some mysterious archaeological significance in the distant past. This location shouldn’t be confused with Land’s End East, which is the most distant point of land on the opposite shore of Gilbetronia.
Oh, and… Merry Christmas.