Micah charted a slow course northeast rather than east directly, in the hope of losing any possible pursuers. He continued to cast the fog spell at regular intervals to keep them hidden from above. The water was choppy, as expected in the late season, but navigable. He rowed all day while Charlotte and Cal kept a steady watch on the horizon. It proved a tense stretch of time after what they faced in barely getting away, especially for Charlotte, but as the hours passed, it seemed they might have truly escaped Carnel. But despite Cal’s optimistic suggestion he might be able to fly them across the rest of the way if they sat on the bureau, Micah wouldn’t take the chance. He didn’t have nearly enough knowledge of what existed in the skies at Carnel’s behest.

  In the late afternoon, Micah relented as heavy fatigue to his muscles set in. He figured they should be half-way across the strait. If pursuers hadn’t been spotted by now, there probably weren’t any. He was mentally weighing the risks of resorting to magic to propel the boat the rest of the way when Charlotte abruptly interrupted the quiet.

  “Look!” she said, pointing south. “Is that what I think it is?”

  They followed her arm and saw it immediately. What hadn’t been apparent before now became impossible to ignore. Through the fog, the silhouette of a colossal object rose so high, it dominated most of the view.

  “It has to be,” Cal said. “We’re in that area, and what else could be so big?”

  “Oh, Micah, can we see it?” Charlotte cast doe eyes at him. “Please?”

  He nodded his assent. “I think we’re safe now.”

  He produced an Element Stone and raised it. The green gem flashed a brilliant light, and a steady wind picked up, swirling to collect the clouds of fog and brush them west. Like rolling waves, the black clouds tumbled over each other. Sunlight poured over their boat, its welcome warmth seeping through damp clothes and wet fur. And from the regressing fog, the great statue appeared, basking in the light and clothed in splendor.

  Awe swept over the passengers, hushing them to silence, and even the waves seemed to quiet before the majesty of the Lord and Queen. Out of a mountain of rock, the two Heroes of the Final Word rose up to cast their commanding gaze east across the strait. Brought together in eternal embrace, the bearing of the two legends reflected all the mighty spirit for which they were celebrated.

  Lord Mobius of Orion stood tall and domineering, an old man with young strength and eyes that could take the heart of anyone he looked upon. One outstretched arm cast a sword over the waters that seemed capable of commanding the whole earth, while the other held his wife with the tenderness of a man still in love.

  Queen Aurora of Tanaerum found shelter in his embrace, but she exuded all the authority and dominance of her husband. If he was the embodiment of power, she was the soul of grace. Even at her age, her beauty was undeniable, a face marked by a full, happy life and a smile of contentment. She raised a crystal above their heads, a beacon of hope that seemed to cast a protective shield over the waters, barring enemies from access to the country they loved so much.

  Charlotte reclined her arms at the edge of the boat, head in hand and sighing dreamily. “I always wondered what it would be like to see this place,” she said. “Isn’t it just the most romantic thing you’ve ever seen?”

  Micah hummed, beginning to attend to the wound in his arm, which he had ignored to the best of his ability until now. “Idoneous.”

  Charlotte smiled uneasily, staring at the laceration in sympathy. “I’ll pretend that means you agree.”

  “Do you know why this is here?”

  “This is where the Lord and Queen died, right?”

  “Well… yes… but that’s not why this place is so revered.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes,” Micah and Cal said in unison.

  She sighed. “Tell me why it’s important, then.”

  “You would appreciate this tale, I think,” Micah said, using a needle and thread of catgut to begin sewing the deep gash. “It’s what many consider to be the ultimate love story.”

  “Oh?” She giggled and turned her body to face him. “Well, then I’m all ears.”

  He looked up at the colossal monument again. Something about their expressions said it all. The passion for their home. The sacrifice. It had been captured so perfectly in the smooth stone.

  “You know of the beginning of the Red Siege,” he began, resuming his stitching. “When Jask Troubadour infiltrated King Tasman’s stronghold and snatched his lover Astrid away. In response, Tasman accused Carnel of collective treachery and began a lifelong mission to unite the mindset of the seven River Nations against our land. That is, the nations through which the Sariandra River runs. Countries that once shared a border with Carnel.”

  Charlotte nodded. “Yes, I was born in Rypsy, one of the seven,” she said.

  “Now, Tasman’s resources were great, and a potent army answered his command, but he knew it was no match for the ancient powers harbored by the three tribes of Carnel. To foreign nations, Carnel was viewed as a holy land, blessed by God. And during that time, it was enjoying a golden era, for its leaders were mighty and peace dawned under the rule of the Drifting Queen after years of fierce hostilities between the tribes.

  “So, Tasman gathered support. For many decades, he slowly stoked the flames of war against Carnel, making many accusations against the tribes and assassinating political figures from the other River Nations only to frame Carnelians, among other similar deeds. It was hatred unrivaled. A boy had taken a prized possession from his own stronghold, and he was determined to mete out revenge on Carnel for the humiliation he suffered. Eventually, his efforts bore fruit. It took many years, but the River Nations united, giving Tasman the sheer strength he needed to contest Carnel. However, he still had one major problem, a problem that existed from the very first day.”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “What was that?” Charlotte asked.

  Micah pointed skyward. “Them.”

  Charlotte and Cal looked back up at the towering effigies.

  “Lord Mobius and Queen Aurora,” Micah said. “Their power was unequaled, and they protected Carnel at all costs. It was the most important thing, a mission that rivaled nothing save for the love they had for each other.”

  “The River Nations were afraid to attack just because of them?” Charlotte asked.

  Micah shook his head. “It wasn’t just fear. It was sheer terror. The ancient annals suggest the six other kings of the united front never even intended to invade Carnel. Rather, Tasman persuaded them to join the coalition merely to create a force for Carnel to respect. It seemed a good idea, and they had no idea what the Red King was planning.”

  “He took over?”

  “Yes. The details are many, so I will only tell you that through a devious scheme, the Red King assumed command of all the armies and immediately declared war on Carnel.”

  Micah used his teeth to tear the thread from the needle he was using. His wound now closed, he stood up in the boat and turned to face the open waters. Awe and respect filled his heart as he looked out over the blue expanse, wondering what the scene must have been like that terrible day. To face such a thing all on their own… simply because they loved their country.

  “Micah?” Charlotte ventured. She stood up, steadying herself.

  “This is where it happened,” he replied, stretching his arm across the horizon.

  “Where what happened?”

  “The Battle of the Final Word. Once… a long time ago, this all used to be land. A dry stretch of terrain with little water to be found. And at the culmination of the Red Siege, Tasman’s armies collected here. An army never before seen in history extending for twenty miles in each direction. A force of over two hundred thousand soldiers with the singular purpose to conquer Carnel.”

  Charlotte and Cal both turned in a slow circle. Water in every direction. Only the island could be seen. “It’s unbelievable,” Cal whispered.

  “Indeed.”

  “But how did this happen?” she asked.

  Micah turned to the island. “The Lord and Queen looked out over Tasman’s charging army all alone on that small mount, while Carnel’s force retreated back to Roobo. And when they were assured that only they remained to face Tasman, that’s when they uttered… the word.”

  “The word?”

  He looked back at Charlotte and lifted a finger. “The Final Word. A single magical utterance they chanted at the same time. Out of one word, magic, and the world broke.” Micah cast his arm across the sea, exhilaration filling him. “From the northern shores of the Peskitoll Sea to the southernmost peak of the Mosaic Mountains, the land was crushed! Carnel split from the domain of the River Seven, and the oceans closed in, consuming the hordes in one roaring, otherworldly collapse. All drowned! In an hour, Carnel became an island, and the armies of the decrepit Red King were laid waste before Mobius and Aurora, the Heroes of the Final Word!”

  Micah realized he was nearly shouting in his excitement. His heart thumped like a drum, and his hands were shaking. He’d always known the story of the Lord and Queen, but telling it… and being here… emotions he never realized welled up within him. I see it now, John Halifax. I understand what you were trying to tell me… if only a small part. What it means to be…

  A hero.

  “Amazing,” Charlotte finally said. She appeared unable to muster any other kind of response.

  Micah lowered his arms, realizing he had raised them. “The cost for the magic was their lives,” he said. “But in exchange for their sacrifice, not one Carnelian died that day. You may ask: Why was this statue erected? Why does every citizen of Carnel know the names of Mobius and Aurora? And why do we revere them so? Now you know the answer. Because they loved Carnel… and saved it with their dying final word.”

  For several minutes, Micah, Charlotte, and Cal stood gazing up at the stone monolith that now seemed even more magnificent. Evening drew the darkness of a setting sun, and the stone figures cast an endless shadow across the strait.

  “The Lord and Queen were buried in accordance with the Avalon spirit contract,” Micah resumed. “But their weapons remained. The sole witness to all these things was their firstborn son, who recorded everything. He took up Flying Birds as well as Scepter, the royal sword of men, and became the new king of West Carnel, but he left Lord Mobius’s great sword behind as a reminder of what happened. The blade called Shroud is still there to this day, lodged in the rock somewhere on that island.”

  “I see it!” Charlotte shouted happily. She pointed to the statues. “There at the base near his right foot! It doesn’t look seven hundred years old at all. In fact, it looks brand new!”

  Micah saw her right iris was fully ablaze with magenta fire. He smiled. Only with Foresight could someone possibly see that far. He sat back down in the boat, and she did likewise.

  “What a great story,” she said.

  “Indubitably.” He took up the oars and began rowing again. “Absolutely everything we know and love about Carnel is due to their sacrifice. And now, we are crossing the Strait of the Final Word in a boat instead of walking across land. After that battle, security measures were put into place so that another army could never invade. And that was why we faced such an ordeal to get away.”

  “You know what, though?” she said. “I think there’s another lesson to be learned from them.”

  “What’s that?” Cal asked.

  “They saved Carnel together. It makes you wonder if they could have done it on their own. I’d like to think they couldn’t. It was their devotion to each other that made it possible.”

  The Murr chuckled. “You would think that.” She laughed with him. “But I tend to agree with you this time,” he said.

  Micah took one last look at the majestic statue of those ancient heroes.

  He agreed as well.

  It took significantly more time and many more breaks for Micah to finish rowing across the strait. The sun of a new day dawned just as they reached the shores of Elyas, the smallest of the River Nations. A heavy mist not of Micah’s doing blanketed the surface of the water, disturbed only by the boat in its quiet course.

  Micah jumped into the water and hauled the boat onto a short beach lined with palm trees before collapsing in the sand, gasping for air. Charlotte disembarked, going to him while Cal lifted the bureau out of the boat.

  Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she frowned. “You poor thing, are you okay?”

  He nodded, closing his eyes. “I’ll… be fine. I’m just… tired…”

  She turned to look back out over the strait. “I can imagine. I mean look at this.”

  He lifted his head, but saw nothing. “What?”

  “We made it. Because of your strength, we actually escaped Carnel. Micah… you saved my life. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for your kindness. You endured such a heavy burden for my sake, asking for nothing in return.” She smiled at him. “I think you deserve a rest.”

  He slowly got up as Cal rejoined them, hovering above their heads.

  Charlotte laughed to herself in a semi-depressed way, looking up and down the secluded coast. “Well, now what do we do?”

  Micah hummed. “You said it yourself. We need a rest.”

  “And you two need a bath,” Cal said.

  Charlotte sniffed the air. “I’ll second that. But where can we go? I don’t know Elyas at all. Do you?”

  The Murr shook his head.

  “Then we shall rely on the advice Master Coral gave me in my first year of training,” Micah said. “‘When there’s no place to go, go to God.’”

  Cal lit up. “Ah, the church. An excellent idea.”

  Charlotte smiled again, and Micah offered his hand. “What do you say?”

  She took it, squeezing tight. “Sage advice if I ever heard it.”