“You have to explain what you were doing with a Resistance cloak, dokka.”
The official, who turned out to be elven, had pronounced the pejorative name dokka with such disdain. His tone reflected his somber opinion of her kin.
Ahna searched his brown eyes. All she could see were his large pointy ears.
“You can make this hard for yourself, or you can...” Before he could finish his sentence, she interrupted him with one single word.
Kairen.
The man flinched.
“Kairen Aquil, she knows me.”
“A dark elf? With silver hair?” Captain Aquil questioned one of the rangers who came to fetch her.
As he nodded, she continued with her stern tone. “Where?”
He was surprised at best by Kairen’s reaction to his whole capture story. “The forest, close to the mines,” he stuttered.
The red-haired woman turned to Senris, captain of the Fae. “Did she attack your men? Did she even look threatening? Is that what we do at the Resistance?” Kairen’s tone was more severe than before.
The Fae were the wood elves of Bravoure, and those who fought for the Resistance had become the rangers and archers of the Antlers. The two young wood elves next to their captain looked disoriented, first at each other, then down in shame.
“Kairen, she hurt one of our own. We don’t know her, she’s dokkalfar, and she wore a Resistance cloak.” Senris attempted to lower Kairen’s temper.
“That’s my cloak, I gave it to her! And she acted in self-defense, judging by what your men told me!” she scolded. “Where’s Cedric?” she then asked, irritated by the situation.
Senris shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s probably back with the shrikes, I really don’t know.”
Kairen, annoyed and aggravated, shoved Senris to the side and headed toward the left hallway. Passing the different halls, she made her way to the spiral staircase that led down, to the lower levels of the barracks. At the third floor below ground was a series of barricaded cells they called the dungeon. It did not serve many purposes, they rarely even made any use of it. Though they kept it for situations like these, when they would take someone prisoner and for further interrogation.
“Get back, Big Guy,” Kairen ordered the guard to move. She did not even let him greet her.
“Yes, Captain!” the jailor heeded and stepped to the side.
Kairen opened the door, and there she was, her dear sister Ahna, wounded on a crude wooden bench. Kairen ran to her and wrapped her arms around her. Ahna flinched a little from the force of her friend’s embrace.
“I can’t believe you came!” Kairen held the elf’s face gently in her hands. She then turned to the guard. “Get me her belongings, at once.”
“You at least had the decency to get a medic to heal her wounds, I’ll give you that.” Kairen turned to Cedric. “Don’t you think using the bow was a tad bit too much?”
They were meeting in the foyer at the entrance hall by the gates. The place they stood had once been part of the mines, where the miners would collect all the gold together, right before purification. Captain Senris was close to the north wall, adjacent to a secluded chapel the miners would use for prayers. The hallway right of the entrance led to the lower levels. At both sides, there was a collection of rooms of different sizes, one being the Resistance Council’s meeting chamber. There was a grand dining hall, a kitchen, a library, the pantry and larders for storing provisions. By the coiled stairway leading below, there was a large room converted to an infirmary. The upper levels, accessible by the stairs north of the entrance hall, right of the chapel, mostly consisted of dorms and officer quarters. The first floor below the barracks was where the old miners had built the irrigation systems, connected to a series of baths and lavatories underneath the main hall. Various medical supplies were also kept there. The level below there was used to store armor and weapons. Lastly, there was the third floor below ground, where the dungeon was.
Cedric sighed. He looked at Kairen with an intense glare of disapproval. “That you don’t mention the fact that you are close with her, fine. But it is over my dead body that we’ll have a stranger dokkalfar in our territory.”
Kairen, angered by his words, raised her voice. “Don’t be so foolish, Cedric. We have dark elves working for us. Hell, some of your assassins are dark elves! Our web of spies is partially dokkalfar.”
He shook his head. “This is not the same. The dokkalfar on our side have been with us since we started building this mess. This one just barged into our forest”—he pointed at Senris – “and wounded one of his men. The truth is, Kairen, we know nothing about her real intentions.”
Kairen scoffed and dismissed Cedric with a motion of the hand. The door leading to the upper stairs opened and Ahna, guided by one of the caretakers, stepped into the main hall. She wore one of Kairen’s black reinforced leather corsets, one that had always been a little too small for the red-haired woman. As Ahna was slightly shorter than her friend, this one was a perfect fit. She had those mysterious linen bands wrapped around her wrists again. Her silver curls were loose, and she carried no weapon. When Kairen noticed her, she immediately hopped to her.
“Ahna, are you well-rested?”
The elf nodded, and her eyes then explored the large hall, decorated by ancient frescoes of a distant golden age. “This was built by dwarves, wasn’t it?”
A proud smile drew on Kairen’s face. “Yes! Apparently, this used to be where gold was grown, or so to speak.”
Cedric crossed his arms, glaring at the two. When his eyes met Ahna’s, she froze instantly. The warpaint on his face had faded, but she still recognized him.
“The marksman...” the elf murmured silently.
The wood elf that had been standing there all along approached them. He had this serious look on his face, but he was slightly more welcoming than his human peer.
“Kyær’ da,” he greeted Ahna.
“You speak Dokkalfari?” Ahna promptly asked, surprised.
“One has to, these days. And it’s not like it’s much different from my language.” His passive-aggressive tone proved he resented the fact he even knew these words. And who could blame him, really?
A short moment passed and Ahna spent some time examining her surroundings. Different people walked around. Men, women, elves, all seemed to have a well-defined task they had to perform. Some looked like soldiers, some like medics or caretakers, others like humble civilians. A few children graced the hall with their presence. All these people had found refuge within this well-built dwarven structure.
Kairen noticed Ahna’s searching gaze. “Welcome to Orgna!” She smiled as she gushed these warm words. “This is our main base. It’s where we store our main supplies and tend to the refugees.” Kairen signed her friend to follow her. “Don’t mind Cedric. He’s a broken man, after all.”
Kairen took Ahna to the hallway left of them that led to the dining hall, the place where the fighters would gather to feast and celebrate. A few happy soldiers were sitting at the wooden tables, enjoying a jar of old-fashion ale they had illegally shipped from a neighboring county.
“We even have dwarven ale!” Kairen smirked as she boastfully said these words. “We have weapons, armor, food supplies. The squadrons deployed here come to train the new recruits. We’ve built quite an army! This place is the heart of the rebellion.”
After a moment spent watching the happy soldiers, a question jumped into Ahna’s mind. “Isn’t it dangerous to be here, as you are so close to the capital?”
Kairen shook her head, a didactic finger pointed upwards. “Well, the mines are abandoned. Lord Sharr has nothing to seek here. He still believes we’re somewhere high in Gurdal, like during the Uprising, while in reality, we are much, much closer.”
The two women strolled toward the stairway, which led directly down to the training areas. As Ahna took in all this new information, the image of Bark sprang into her mind.
“You didn’t happen to fi
nd my horse by any chance?” she asked, worried about her brown steed.
Kairen looked uncertain. “I’m not sure, but the Council will be here soon. I promise you will be accepted here. And we will find your horse.”
Ahna nodded mechanically, unsure of what was to come.
“Come on,” Kairen encouraged. “I’ll show you around while we wait.”
Above the Bravan plains, beyond the green hills, a wide valley narrowed into a short yet beautiful canyon. By a high cliff of solid clay were the old dwarven mines. The tunnels stretched deep underneath the mountains of Gurdal. They extended their reach to the high ridges and peaks. The quarry, directly carved into the gorge’s cliffs, had once been a bustling place of labour.
When Lord Sharr had established his reign, Bravoure had abandoned the mines. The first troops of insurgents from the war that gathered in the city’s underground then built a collection of settlements, mostly in high Gurdal. After the failed Uprising, they had found refuge in this lower, secluded valley and converted the deserted miners’ quarters into the main base of the Resistance. It had become the birthplace of today’s rebellion. The newly restored barracks took the name of the renowned commander who had led the Uprising, the rebel base of Beatrix Orgna. The barracks had become their home, where they recruited and trained soldiers for the next uprising.
The valley itself birthed the life of many different species of flora and fauna. Where a river had once slithered, there was a grass greener than a Resistance cloak. Many species of herbivores, like deers, chamois, steinbocks or other bovidae, often visited the valley during winter, in search of food. At the blooming of spring, the animals retreated to higher in the mountains. Sadly, there were no more emerald wyverns to graze the valley floor.
2
Welcome to Orgna
The Council gathered in their meeting chamber and Ahna stood by her sister and friend, facing the round stone table at the center of the room and the five Resistance leaders.
“As Kairen has told you, I was in Bravoure long before the reign of Sharr. I fled the Dwellunder with my family a lifetime ago in search of a peaceful life. We had arranged our escape and were granted refugee status. When the Dark Lord overtook the city, I fled to the north. I’ve lived in Miggdra ever since.”
The five members of the Council listened attentively, each seated at their assigned place at the large stone table. To her surprise, they did not look at her like the enemy her kin was. Instead, they were humble and calm, and they let her speak freely without prejudice.
“I have nothing to do with Sharr’s horde,” Ahna continued. Her interlocutors remained silent. “I’m sorry I threw a dagger at the ranger. I was under attack, and I didn’t know what to do. I was trained to fight, and I want to help the Resistance.”
The leader, High Commander Joshua Sand, waited patiently for Ahna to complete her introduction. His bright grey eyes that had seen many battles remained fixed on the elf. His black beard stopped at the top of his chest, and his hair was carefully combed and fell behind his shoulders. His mane, originally as black as night, was adorned with the silver filaments of a proud, ageing man.
Seated in the furthest chair, Joshua wore the military garments of Bravan officers from before the war. A dark green tunic crossed at the center of his chest and secured with a black leather belt, with golden epaulettes fixed to his shoulders. Ahna recognized the outfit from distant memories. Attached to his belt was the white scabbard of the royal claymore. The white, leather-strapped hilt of the blade that almost touched the ground surged beside the high commander’s waist. The greatsword had been passed from general to general of the Bravan King. After the war, the first Resistance leader had picked up the sword and pledged her life to serve the blade.
Joshua Sand whispered a few inaudible words to his associates and turned back to Ahna. “There is one thing you must understand. Secrecy is paramount to our survival. Our predecessors have made sure they left a framework for us to operate in the dark, away from Sharr’s prying eye. In these desperate times, unity is our ultimate weapon.”
To Joshua’s right sat Jade Lark, who had infiltrated Sharr’s command a decade ago. She wore a tunic of a color that matched her name. Jade’s short, golden-brown hair gathered at the nape of her neck in a thin knot. Her complexion was pale like white sheets of linen, and her face was very angular for a human. Perhaps there was a drop of elven blood that flowed through her veins.
Jade adopted Commander Sand’s reluctance. “We cannot tolerate error. If we suspect you of being”—Jade carefully chose her next term—“unstable, you will be eliminated.”
Then, to Joshua’s left, Councilor Myria Fel of the high elves of Bravoure, picked up on their words. “You wounded one of our own, Ahna. A respected ranger high in the ranks of the Fae. Now, we understand you were defending yourself, and we see that you are not of Sharr’s army. But you must understand why the doubt in your case could ever be so strong.”
The ljosalfar woman, with her elegant visage and pearl skin, was at least a hundred Sols older than Ahna. She had the amber eyes of high elf nobility, the hazel gems with golden flickers. Her ears pointed gracefully to the council room’s ceiling. She wore a long elven gown made of grey linen, with a white corset to support her slim figure. Her melodic voice had chanted like music in the council room.
The ball was in Ahna’s field now. “I know how dokkalfar think. I can help—”
Joshua interrupted the elf midsentence. “We have dokkalfar who know how dokkalfar operate.” He leaned back in his chair at the stone table before he pursued. “We’ve built an army here. We’re preparing the next uprising as we speak, which is why discovery would pose…a slight problem.” He then inhaled deeply. “Kairen, what guarantee do we have that she won’t be a liability?”
Next to Jade Lark sat Commander David Falco, Kairen’s husband who Ahna was finally able to meet. The commander was a man with rich ebony skin similar to Bravoure’s strongest of oaks. He was very handsome, and his brown eyes shimmered with a righteous light.
To Myria’s left was Luk Ma, a sindur with Ailuran origins, the isle where the men-lynx came from. Ahna had not seen a sindur in a long, long time. He had thick red fur, like most sindurs, in the shades of autumn. There were the faint shapes of a spotted coat on his arms, the dots had faded with age.
The Council was the organ of a joint leadership. Joshua, albeit head of the committee, always relied on the opinion of his peers. Kairen cleared her throat to finally respond to the man with the white scabbard. “She raised me, High Commander. She’s the one who insisted I joined the Resistance.”
Joshua brought his hand to his bearded face. His chin rested between his thumb and index fingers, as a pensive mind would do during a moment of reflection.
“Why didn’t she join the Resistance herself? From her words, she was in Bravoure at the time. She could have done something. Where was she when the Uprising failed?” High Commander Sand pointed out.
Ahna remained silent, hesitant to say anything else that would make her case worse.
Kairen’s determined voice echoed in the council room. “High Commander, I swear. I will take full responsibility for Ahna if she joins the fight,” the red-haired woman promised.
The Council ordered a recess. The members exited to a small antechamber at the back of the meeting chamber, and Ahna was requested to wait in the main hall. She sat on one of the wooden benches in the silent foyer. Kairen joined her shortly after, and she smiled at her friend.
“David sees this through,” Kairen affirmed. “I hope he can convince the others.”
Veering slightly off-subject, Ahna smiled back and winked at Kairen. “He seems like an honorable man. I remember when you used to write about him.”
Kairen blushed and chuckled. “Well, he was able to convince me to marry him!”
They laughed together for a minute and let the stillness embrace the hall again.
“What made you change your mind, Ahna?” Kairen eventually asked
, curious of why her friend had finally decided to join the cause.
Ahna remained silent for a long while. She pondered on her reasons. Why, days after Kairen had left back to the south, had she saddled Bark and headed to the barracks of Orgna? The calling that had consumed her heart after her determined friend’s last visit. At this precise moment, she knew what she had to do.
When the Council reconvened, Ahna and Kairen were asked to return. The members of the Council sat back around the stone table, and as Joshua was about to speak, the dark elf took a step forward and a deep breath.
“My true name is Meriel Arkamai, I was an archmage at the Magi Academy of Bravoure.”
The members of the Council fell silent. Their eyes rounded. One of them gasped in surprise. Those who knew a little about the Academy’s history thought they recognized her name, from the wartales their parents had told, or from the books of a prewar time.
“After the cleansing order, Lord Sharr killed everyone I held dear. So I ran. I ran and never looked back. Benevolent souls helped me vanish, and I have been in hiding ever since. No one knows I am still alive, and no one expects me to be. I had renounced every commitment I had to the city long ago. Until you came”—the honest elf turned to Kairen—“Your fiery soul showed me there was hope. I encouraged her to join the Resistance because I felt I couldn’t. My cowardice held me down, and the guilt for abandoning the city, my refuge, tormented me each day. Kairen convinced me I may still have a chance to redeem myself.” Ahna smiled at her sister and friend. “I ran from the past twice in my life. It’s about time I came home.”
The delicate frescoes in the main hall of Orgna told the story of the ancient dwarven civilization that had built the gold mines. They had been preserved to this day, as they were part of the old history of Bravoure. Over the centuries, as tensions had risen in the kingdom, the dwarves retreated to below the ground. They had gone underneath the Terran earth, never to be seen again.
Tempest of Bravoure: Kingdom Ascent Page 2
