4 | The Shadows of Corallina Part 1

Eryndor's gaze drifted, lost in thoughts, as he stood on the windswept beach, the salty air whipping his hair into a frenzy, fluttering in the air. He dismounted his horse and stood watching for a moment, his eyes following the soaring form of his loyal companion eagle as it rode the updrafts high above the beach.

His steps were heavy but relaxed as he walked towards the shore, the cries of seagulls, diverted his attention,  filling the air. His mind reflected on his last accomplishments in the woods, and his eyes narrowed, focusing on the plume of smoke rising from a mountain in the distance - the rugged silhouette of Corallina Island beckoned him, set against the vast expanse of sea water.

Eryndor discovered that the valley was called Corallina. "How can I reach Corallina?" Eryndor wondered and helpless. As he gazed across the beach, he was captivated by its breathtaking picturesque grandeur, nestled among towering dense trees, babbling and running brooks, and serene sea surroundings. An ideal landscape, a food for a sore eye.

Running up and down, finnally, made him succeed to stuble upon a worn-out skiff, partially hidden in the long beach grass. Despite its age, the boat looked sturdy, with a single pair of oars laid across its seats.

Soon Eryndor found himself into the turbulent sea after launching the skill to the water's edge. The torrent of tides was strong, and the wind blew furiously from north to south to discourge him, but he persevered, rowing with all his might for an hour. In a flash of light he reflected: "Quiter never win, and winners never quit." After facing the hard torrent of tides, he reached the shores of Corallina, exhausted but triumphant.

As soon as Eryndor set foot on the island, two sturdy guards, who had been watching him from the shore as he launched his skiff into the sea, seized him and dragged him before their master, Lord Arinthal. Eryndor's resistance was met with violence as the guards tried to beat him into submission altogether.

With his wrists bound by a rope, Eryndor stood before Lord Arinthal, who had been waiting for him with growing impatience. The two strudy men locked eyes, their silence stretching out for moments. Then, Lord Arinthal began to laugh, his sneers bursting into mocking peals of laughter in a shaby hall.

Lord Arinthal was not satisfied, he eyed Eryndor suspiciously, convinced he was an agent of some secret service, member of the rescuers.

"What brings you to Corallina, gentleman?" Arinthal asked gruffly.

Eryndor replied confidently, "Nothing particular, just to enjoy the beautiful scenery around here."

Lord Arinthal's expression turned polite, but his tone remained skeptical and sarcastic. 

"Welcome, gentleman. What's your name?"

"Eryndor Maxwell," he replied. Arinthal raised an eyebrow.

"You've come without any luggage or gadgets. How... surprising! What do you expect to see here?" His tone dripped with sarcasm, but Eryndor remained resilient, his expression unwavering.

Eryndor was in bit trouble, his gaze swept all around the room, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a mixture of curiosity and caution, searching for something that might reveal a clue or satisfy his growing unease. 

"Move!", Lord Arinthal's subtle gesture made his guards walk into prompt action. They grasped Eryndor's arms, their grip firm, and led him away. Constant sound of clanging metal and creaking wood was echoing through the corridors as they descended into pitch darkness.

Eryndor stumbled, his eyes darting wildly around, as he was pushed forward, his shoulders scraping against the cold stone walls. The screech of the door aired as it was slammed shut behind him. The air grew thick with shadows, the darkness seeming to swallow him whole, its presence so palpable he could feel it.

A faint rustling sound came from the corner, followed by the clatter of a tray on the stone floor. The dim light from the corridor cast a faint glow on the meager meal and water skin. But that was enough for him. Eryndor's stomach growled in response. He felt weakness with pang of hunger.

As his eyes fixed, he saw the cells lining the corridor, each one packed with gaunt figures huddled in the wavering shadows. The stench of sweat, mould, and despair hung heavy in the air. Eryndor's eyes clouded with sorrow as he swept the cells, his jaw clenched in anguish and despair.

The occupants of the nearby cells eyed him warily, their whispers barely audible. Their sunken eyes and hollow cheeks made them almost unrecognizable. Eryndor's presence sparked a mixture of curiosity and resignation, but their filthy faces remained blank, showing no glimmer of hope. The whispers grew louder, "New laborer...", "Looks like another one..." The voices kept him awake at night.

Lying on the matted floor, Eryndor's suspicions about illegal mining on Corallina Island grew stronger. "It would devastate the environment and exploit local helpless workers." Despite government regulations and international agreements like the Kimberley Process, corrupt officials and smugglers might have continued to profit from gemstone resources, displacing communities and perpetuating violence on the island. His suspicions were confirmed: the truth was far more sinister than he had imagined before landing on this island.

Before the mighty sun rose over the dense green forest of pine trees, the slaves were dragged mercilessly to the mines, promised breakfast in exchange for their labour. Their empty bellies tempted them to comply them silently, despite the cruel treatment of the children. The slaves felt helpless, awaiting divine intervention. Meanwhile, Eryndor contemplated Arinthal's strength and the powerful hold he had over these victims.

As Eryndor passed by her cell, Lirien Mira, a young girl of eighteen or so, caught his eye with a glance that hinted at a piece of secret she longed to share. Though she passed by without a word, Eryndor instinctively sensed her urgency. Later, he created a commotion, feigning anger, and the guards, distracted, led him to the labour site where the victims were toiling.

The cacophony of sounds - cracking timber, rockfall, pickaxe strikes, and the high-pitched whine of drills piercing through rock, accompanied by the rumble of machinery - confirmed his suspicion. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, dust, and desperation.

Amidst the chaos, Eryndor scanned the crowd, searching for Lirien. He spotted her, his eyes locking onto hers, and began to make his way towards her, careful to avoid the guards' watchful gaze.

The sturdy guards were quick to pull the trigger, their guns at the ready to silence any dissent. The victims' steady gaze spoke volumes about the brutality they had been facing. The unspoken rule was clear: labour with obedience and silence was the only guarantee of their survival. No one dared to speak out, fearing the swift and merciless retribution that would prevail.

Eryndor realized that stopping Arinthal's illigel operation was just the beginning. He would need to expose an organized issue and corruption to bring about lasting change and restore the land's vitality at any rate. With unwavering conviction, Eryndor faced the dire challenge ahead.

Arinthal's destructive plan had already diverted water sources, leaving nearby villages to wither and dry. The air and water were poisoned by the chemicals and heavy machinery used in the illegal operation, a stark reminder of the devastating cost of their lust and greed. 

As Eryndor gazed upon the ravaged landscape, he was met with a sight that shook him to his core. The soil, once teeming with life, now lay dormant and lifeless, a stark testament to the devastating impact of Arinthal's  activities on the ecosystem.

The contrast between the island's former vibrancy and its current desolation was a harsh reminder of the irreparable damage that was being done by him. Nearby, the brooks, once babbling and full of life, now presented themselves like a dead snake - limp, lifeless, and eerily still.

"Will Corallina's beauty and vitality be forever lost?" Eryndor exclaimed, his words cutting like steel.

Finally, Eryndor found an opportunity to speak with Lirien, but their conversation was abruptly cut short by a burly guard, who barked that talking was quite forbidden during work hours.

Undeterred, Eryndor relied on gestures to convey his message, reassuring her that he was there to rescue them and imploring her to let him find a way to help. The girl's eyes sparkled with understanding, and she subtly caught the moments and nodded her agreement.

Lirien signaled that she would be willing to communicate further during breakfast, and Eryndor's heart swelled with hope and curosity.

The soil, once teeming with life, was now scarred and barren. Water sources were diverted, leaving nearby villages dry and parched. The miners' chemicals and heavy machinery polluted the air and water, poisoning the very earth they sought to exploit.

Government-regulated mining operations prioritized production over environmental protection, ravaging the ecosystem with heavy machinery and chemicals despite touted safety protocols.

Compounding the issue, corrupt government officials, swayed by Arinthal's influence, either ignored the environmental degradation or actively aided his operations; perpetuating the devastation, entangling the issue in a web of corruption and complexity.

Eryndor was there to observe all this alone. Eryndor's plightness among the cruel mob was a sore of sight to behold. His anguish was a palpable pang, a heavy mist that clung to him like a shroud.

Eryndor sensed that shutting down Arinthal's operation was merely the first step. To truly restore the land's vitality, he needed to expose the deep-seated corruption and systemic issues that had allowed the devastation to occur.

Lirien's willingness to use Eryndor as a decoy showcased her unwavering urge and resourcefulness, while Eryndor's willingness to go along demonstrated his adaptability and loyalty to his shared cause. With Eryndor's life now potentially in danger and Lirien's goals hanging in the balance, the stakes had never been higher.

To be continued....