They were under water. They both experienced a moment of disorientation and used all of their focus and will power not to gasp in lungfuls of water. It was also very dark.
Fighting his panic, Laromendis realized they were not too deep, as he had learnt to judge water pressure while diving for shellfish as a youth. He blew out a small breath and felt the bubbles rise up his face. In the gloom he knew which way as up. He grabbed his brother’s arm and pulled, and they both swam furiously to the surface.
They had been less than ten feet below the surface, but it had felt like one hundred. They broke above rolling combers and spat out mouthfuls of seawater.
Gasping for air, Gulamendis said, ‘We aren’t dead…Yet.’
Looking around, his brother said, ‘We have time. I have no idea where we are.’
Gulamendis said, ‘This isn’t Home.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Demons. I can sense them.’
‘How many?’
‘A lot.’
The chop of the sea water would have been called relatively mild by a sailor, but that judgment was made from a boat. The peak to trough was roughly six feet, so they tried to time their exploration, looking in circles each time they crested the rising water.
‘Lights!’ said Laromendis.
‘Where?’ asked his brother as he slid into a trough and began to rise again.
‘That way,’ said Laromendis.
‘I can’t see where you’re pointing. It’s as dark as a cave.’
‘You’re right.’ He swam closer to his brother and could barely make out his face. But it was faintly illuminated and Gulamendis turned to look for the light’s source.
A single moon had risen high in the night sky, a slivered crescent obscured by a heavy curtain. ‘Fog,’ said Laromendis.
‘Then we’d better make for those lights before they are obscured,’ said Gulamendis. He felt his brother’s hand on his shoulder and felt himself moving. He didn’t need any more convincing and began to swim.
The brothers were not particularly powerful, but their people had greater strength and endurance than humans or even the lesser elves of Home. And both had spent years living close to an ocean, so could swim well. They had been forced to rely on what they could bring in from the sea more times than they cared to remember.
‘Listen,’ said Gulamendis as he paused.
‘What?’
‘I hear breakers.’
‘Good. I’m starting to go numb and was desperately hoping we saw lights on land and not a passing ship.’
Saying nothing more, they set out towards the sound of breakers.
Minutes later the two exhausted, chilled elves heaved themselves out of the surf and trudged ashore in the dark. The beach was broad and welcoming, which they both counted as fortunate. A sudden crash into jagged rocks would have almost ended this escape.
‘Where do you think we are?’ asked Laromendis.
‘I have no idea, but with a little luck I might be able to find out. Even if this is one of the worlds taken by the Demon Legion, we might be able to come up with another means of reaching home.’
‘You always were the one able to look on the bright side of things; it’s ironic that you ended up spending so much time in dark caves as a child.’
His brother tried to chuckle, but couldn’t quite find the energy. ‘There!’ he said suddenly, pointing to light dotting the side of the hill above them, before they were again consumed by the mist.
‘Torches, I think,’ whispered Laromendis. Without another word they started moving up the beach, moving cautiously in the darkness. Like all of their race, they possessed good night-vision, but they still needed some light with which to see, and the sliver of moon provided very little. The land was shrouded in a murky haze as they worked their way carefully along a path, possibly a game trail, that led away from the beach; movement was slow as it was littered with rocks and bramble.
Gulamendis kept his voice low and said, ‘There are a lot of demons nearby.’
His brother whispered, ‘We need to get further away from the beach. If there are demons around, we need to find a place to hide until we can work out what to do next. You were the one who told me some of those flyers can see in the dark.’
‘Thanks for reminding me,’ the Demon Master whispered in return. ‘But not many of them are able to, and none of them like to fly in fog, it would be too easy to fly into something.’
They reached a sharp bend in the path and continued up the hillside. As they climbed higher, the fog thinned and a few minutes later they broke clear of it. The sky on the other side of the cliff was aglow, and they crouched instinctively fearful of being spotted by sentries.