In A Time Of Darkness

by Gregory James Knoll

  * * * * *

  “Grahamas…” Lornya pulled close to the Champion to whisper so only he could hear. “Are you sure this is a good idea? If Carsis is to turn, he may reveal to her what we’re seeking… It could be devastating.”

  “Agreed, but as much as I wish we could make this journey alone, I have left Elryia and the group in the hands of darkness before and I will not make the same mistake. I feel better knowing he’s where I can watch him.” But Lor still looked skeptical and slightly worried. “Only you, Elryia, and I know what we seek. Perhaps it’s best that we do not tell them anything,” Grahamas quieted and thought for a moment. “No, that is something I cannot do. I have always tried to be honest. Perhaps if I were to talk to Carsis…”

  “No, Grahamas. Do you remember that you are the one who hid your identity for over a year in order to protect them? If you tell him now, or any of the others, who knows what kind of repercussions it will have. You risk pushing him further.”

  “Then what do you suggest?”

  “I…” Lornya sighed, shaking her head. “I am not entirely certain. Just be aware and treat him normally, as though you know not what his future may hold. Be his friend.”

  Grahamas considered this and cranked back to look. Behind him Merial, Carsis, Gort, Lanyan, Elryia, and Gnert were all riding side-by-side. The Dwarf, as usual, seemed overzealous about something: waving his arms with his face red from hollering rather than breathing. The Champion did as all the others and simply chuckled at his antics. “Perhaps it is his other friends that have kept him from falling,” he whispered back to Lornya.

  “Then maybe it will save him.”

  Grahamas held; he knew the silent, loyal Carsis—the helpful, resolved man. The man he saw on the surface, the one he was determined to save—the façade. The image that the real Carsis had created in order to hide his true self. The man who used any measure necessary to get what he wanted; the one who had lied, stolen, threatened, and bullied since he was young. And no one knew, not Merial, not Lanyan, and certainly not Grahamas. If he had known, perhaps the Champion would not be so eager to save him and more likely apt to destroy him. “We should each do our part,” Lornya couldn’t help but avert to Ristalln.

  “Aye, we will.”

  With a nod the Champion slowed his horse and drew back to the group as Lornya sped to catch up with the Knight. Each of the other companions locked eyes and watched him work his way back to join them. Elryia excited, but the others only looked curious. Even Gort stopped his rambling and all were quiet as they waited for him to speak.

  At that moment, Grahamas realized that they still only saw him as a leader as opposed to a friend. He had spent so much time regaining Hope and riding ahead that he had not taken much time to get to know the people who were fighting alongside him. Now, with at least three days to ride, he could begin to do so. “Don’t stop simply because of me. I just wish to learn more of everyone.”

  Merial smiled, Gnert blinked, and the rest remained inquisitive.

  After a long awkward silence, Elryia finally cleared her throat. “Gort was just…expressing his um…opinion why everyone should have beards… Even women.”

  Graham ran a hand up to his stubbled face, looking rather disappointed in himself. “Beards?” Grahamas said loud enough for all to hear. “Is this what they usually discuss?” he whispered.

  “It’s what he usually discusses, aye. Beards…hammers…drinking. That’s about it.”

  Grahamas chuckled and cocked his head with a shrug, “Sounds like as good a topic as any. I’m curious about what you have to say Gort.”

  Lanyan looked up at the Champion and muttered, “You’re going to regret that.”

  But Gort wasn’t paying him any attention. He’d already started talking. “…They keep yer face warm and they make ya look good. It takes inner strength ta grow one…”

  The Elf erupted in laughter, “It takes age Gort, nothing more.”

  Instantly the Dwarf looked insulted, then he poked his face towards Lanyan and squinted examining the Elf’s chin “How old ye be again? Where’s yer beard?”

  Lanyan pulled back from the examination, “I’m an elf. We don’t grow facial hair.”

  “Ha! No inner strength. Ye see?”

  “Inner strength? It takes that to hold a bow steady when a boar’s violently running towards you.”

  “It takes more ta hold a hammer steady…and grow a beard!”

  “Maybe it takes laziness to stop shaving your face!”

  “Lazy, am I?!”

  Elryia giggled and then rolled her eyes, “They’re at it again…”

  “Again? They do this often…?” Grahamas asked of Elryia as he bent to look at the two.

  “Oh… Every day.”

  The Champion waited patiently for them to finish, and waited…and then continued to wait. “Are they going to stop soon?”

  “No. They would still be on their first argument if no one ever interrupted them.”

  “…Should I?”

  “Unless you want to listen to this until the sun goes down.” She paused for a moment and then winked, “If you don’t, I will.”

  Grahamas bowed and leaned forward to speak and then halted, instead placing his attention back on Elryia, “El?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Where’s Jeralyle?”

  “Oh, behind you. He’s had his mind on that parchment since we left. I believe he’s writing something important.”

  Smiling, Grahamas glanced at the Mage. He remained deep in thought as the Champion watched him. It was only when Elryia cleared her throat that he looked back at her and then at the two arguing. “Oh…right.” He turned first towards Lanyan, speaking over them, “So, Lan. Tell me, why did you start on this quest?”

  Lanyan tackled the opportunity. “Initially it was simply to help a friend, but as the year has progressed I’ve discovered more reasons for continuing… Mainly my people’s freedom.”

  “A friend?” Grahamas pondered. “Gort?”

  Elryia almost burst into laughter, but held back as she didn’t know if he was being serious.

  “Carsis actually, we’ve been friends since…Well, since he was young at least,” Lan chuckled.

  Grahamas glanced at the other man, “You must have been close for him to join you on such a dangerous journey.”

  “Aye,” replied Carsis, “Lanyan’s been a good friend.”

  “So what inspired you to fight, then?”

  “I came to support Merial, any way that I could. This was her decision.”

  Grahamas quirked towards the woman, who looked a bit bashful, hanging her brunette head down when he asked, “Does this story I’m looking for end with you?”

  Merial giggled and bounced her face up and down, “It does.”

  With a cordial bow given, the Champion leaned a bit closer, waiting for Merial to begin.

  Ahead of them, Ristalln leaned back to catch only bits of the conversation. Not trying to pry, but curiosity had gotten the best of him. As secretive as Lornya and Graham had been as of late, he couldn’t resist. But it was simply Grahamas learning more about the group. He thought about joining them, until the red-haired Goddess flashed him another grin. That was all it took to keep him where he was.

  “Are you listening to me?” Lornya narrowed her eyes, seemingly already knowing the answer.

  “I am, yes.”

  “What did I ask you?”

  “You asked me…” both his eyebrows rose as he stared, trying to buy time, “If I was listening to you.”

  She laughed, too amused to be upset that he actually wasn’t. “I asked if you’ve been married.”

  “Married? No.”

  “Never?”

  “Never. You?”

  “Not me, in my former life or after.” The Knight only sighed, remembering their earlier conversation. “Not even close.” She whispered.

  “I haven’t been close either.”

  “Truly? A handsome man like you… Why is t
hat? The same reason as Graham—too duty bound?”

  This time it was Ristalln’s turn to laugh, “Duty? Not hardly, I assure you…” His laughter softened, showing his discomfort as he wondered if he wanted to tell her this, “I’m brave, but even that scared me.”

  “The thought of being with one woman for the rest of your life?”

  “No. The thought of living my life without the one person I devoted it to.” The Knight gave a weak smile, followed by a hard sigh. “Or forcing them to live without me. The kind of life I endured, I didn’t want to ever risk that. If something were to happen to me on the battlefield…what if Savados’ spell didn’t work? Or there was no one to cast it? All too many variables I couldn’t get around to be close to someone.”

  “I can understand that,” a slow, devious smile pried at her lips, “Perhaps what you need is to find someone like yourself… Someone who doesn’t age and cannot be killed easily.”

  Ristalln knew that she was teasing him—playing with him—so he retaliated in turn, “I’m sure a woman like that would be…impossible to find. I’m not even sure one exists.”

  The Goddess looked confused before she realized that he was on to her game, “I’m sure there’s at least one, you just have to know where to look.”

  “Such a woman surely would not be interested in a rogue like me.”

  “Probably not.”

  His face had turned towards the sky when she said that and the moment her sentence ended, shock jerked his head back down and widened his eyes, “I beg your pardon?!”

  The Goddess laughed so hard she nearly fell of her horse, then charged away without an answer. For a long time, she remained ahead of the Knight, and he could only glare. He watched her silently as her arm, and then her finger rose to point to a far off willow tree.

  “What is she pointing at?” Ristalln whispered to himself, thinking that her action was meant for him. But it was for another, a tiny blue sparrow rushing from the tree and landing on her finger. There, she brought it to her mouth and whispered to it before setting it free. Determined, it flew back to the Knight and stationed on the front of his saddle to stare up at him. It blinked and then hopped onto his knee before flying up to perch on the edge of his shoulder. The Knight watched it as long as he could, but the bird moved up to his neck and out of his line of sight. He let out a slight chuckle when he felt its head brush against his neck, and then a yelp when it pecked his jaw line.

  Knowing her powers, Ristalln leered towards the Goddess with sharp eyes while the bird returned back to its home. The Knight closed the gap, “What was that for?” he asked once he finally caught up to her.

  “I asked it to kiss you for me… Is that not what it did?”

  “It pecked me!”

  “Hmm… Birds don’t have lips, I apologize Sir Ristalln. I did not think of the potential hazards.”

  The Knight rubbed his chin, “I believe you did that on purpose.”

  With eyes bright and still laughing as she replied, “I may have.”

  “Next time, kiss me yourself,” said mixed with a soft growl.

  “Next time, I will.”

  Both bowed to each other in agreement before becoming attentive to the group that was riding behind them, hoping that they weren’t listening to the conversation.

  Most, couldn’t hear them. Only Lanyan and Grahamas could. Merial’s story had since finished and they sought something else to pass the time, so all eyes locked on the increasing romance between Lornya and Ristalln.

  “What happened? What did he say?” Gort barked, leaning forward so far he almost fell off Pony.

  Lanyan chuckled, pointing in their direction, “He said… Well, he’s flirting with her.”

  Elryia giggled and looked to Graham for answer, “Yes, but what did he say?”

  “You don’t want to know,” The Champion answered, shaking his head.

  Elryia blushed and shied away, prompting Grahamas to grin. Every other member of the group was peeking up, both watching and hanging on the words of Lanyan and Grahamas. All except Merial, who instead was analyzing a reserved, quiet Jeralyle. “I shall return,” she said to Carsis who was compassionate while she was looking and snarled when she turned her back.

  The woman approached, rather loudly, but still he failed to acknowledge her, just continued scratching the pen on his paper. Merial could not help herself as she snuck up, intent on startling him, “Whatcha doin’ Gorgeous?”

  The Mage idly focused. Once he found Merial, his entire body jumped as he scrambled to hide his parchment. “Merial… Hi. I didn’t see you. I… How are you?”

  Wearing a coy look, she peeked over at his lap where his papers were now tucked, “…Fine. What do you have there?”

  “Just…finishing something I’ve been working on.”

  She looked skeptical for a moment, but her narrowed eyes softened, “Are you doing well?”

  “Aye.”

  “Good. I know you avoided everyone earlier because of your encounter with Carsis. I just wanted to make sure nothing else has happened since then.”

  The Mage shook his head quietly as his face lit up, “Actually, no. An idea came to me last night and I’ve simply been desperate to get it done.”

  “Promise?”

  “I give you my word.”

  “Will you tell me what the idea is?”

  “It’s almost finished. I promise tonight if we stop, you will be the first one I show. Deal?” He held out his hand as a guarantee.

  Slightly giddy, she leaned over and shook, still trying to get a gander at what he had. Jeralyle quickly covered it up. “Deal,” she pouted, letting her hand linger in his, “I’ll let you finish then.”

  Jeralyle looked up one final time from his parchment to dip his head in acknowledgment. After which Merial then made her way back to mix within the group.

  “Is everything well?” Grahamas questioned Merial once she found her place between Elryia and Carsis.

  “Aye. Jer seems entangled by something very important.”

  El smiled and cast her gaze back, “He is a wizard. We do that sometimes.”

  “I’m just glad he’s not worried or depressed,” Carsis interjected. He sounded sincere, but Merial had to turn quickly so she didn’t snarl at him.

  With a nod, the Champion turned eyes forward, first to Ristalln and Lornya, then beyond them. The sun blared, forcing the sky to take on a soft gray hue. The valley beyond them flat, each side of the road stained red, purple green and gold. A mix of wild flowers and unkempt grass, stretching well beyond their vision. Miles could be taken in, even then Sayassa was not to be seen. Grahamas could not help but wonder if it would only be three days. “So I know everyone’s story now, all except yours Gort.”

  Lanyan cast on the Dwarf, as did the rest, and he bowed his head. “He has not told anyone Grahamas,” the Elf said with an empty look.

  “No one?”

  “Just me,” Elryia began, “but he has asked that I do not repeat it.”

  “Then I will not pry.”

  “No… Pry,” the Dwarf said, oddly humble, “Perhaps it is time anyway.”

  “Only if you wish to…”

  “I don’t. Not entirely, but if yer asking, I suppose I owe it ta ya.” The Champion could only nod and listen as the Dwarf continued, “I was married once…”

  Grahamas didn’t know the Dwarf as well as the others. To him it seemed normal; to the rest—aside from El—it was shocking. “Married?” Lanyan asked, still not quite believing it.

  “Aye,” Gort heard a light chuckle come from the Elf, “Be treading lightly until ya hear the story Lanyan.”

  “I’m sorry… Go on.” Lanyan had waited almost a year to hear this story. He had seen the Dwarf with a serious look on his face before, but never like this, so he held his tongue for now.

  “I was married,’” he started over. “Ta a beautiful lass named Almri. Long, flowing black hair and dark gray eyes that could melt the very rocks of the caves we worked in
. She was a kind-hearted soul and worked twice as hard as she loved. We grew up together, our families were friends and we both had similar goals and a desire for a simple life spent only in Forgas.” Gort stopped his description abruptly. To all it was obvious this story was far more painful than he had expected. He didn’t want to get caught off guard and show emotion. “But things changed, we had only been married about three years when it happened.”

  “What happened?” Lanyan couldn’t help but interrupt.

  “We were…recruited by the King.”

  “How so?”

  Gort didn’t answer, only turned to Grahamas and wondered if he knew what he spoke of. Eventually, Lanyan looked to him as well. “Unlike Sharia, Forgas is open,” the Champion began, “and there are many more mining opportunities to be had in Eldonia aside from Forgas. For as long as Idimus has been King, he’s believed the world to be his, and he’s alleged everything in it there for his taking. He had no qualms about kidnapping dwarves and using them in the other mines until they died or grew too old to work.”

  Gort let out a grumbling sigh as he tried to muster up the courage to go on. “They took us both. We had seen it before and we had come ta accept it. If we went along willingly, they would be lenient on Javal and they would leave Forgas intact. But had I known what was in store for us, I would have fought them until tha bitter end. They carted us in a cramped, tiny cage, all tha way past Kaldus and Roane, to a far off mountain range. We couldn’t move and we could barely even breathe. And when our weary bodies were finally allowed out, they shoved us right inta tha tunnels and forced us ta start working.” All noticed the Dwarf’s grip tightening on the reins. “There were thirty, maybe forty, of us going single file through tha tunnels, mining for onyx, rubies, and anything else we could get our hands on. If we didn’t dig anything out, they would work us harder until we did. If we did find something, they would work us harder until we found more. It was relentless. For six months with one or two hours of sleep and barely being fed, we endured. I probably could have kept going for another six, but Almri couldn’t. She didn’t. After half a year she got sick. She could barely keep anything down and she lost all of her beautiful muscle…” Gort sniffed and shook his head, contracting his face as best he could. He wouldn’t look at any of the companions; his gaze remaining forward as he continued.

  “I was watching her waste away and they didn’t do anything. Didn’t care. We had already lost a few that had come with us, for tha same reason. But when one faded, they replaced them with another. We were all just…faces ta them. But Almri wasn’t ta me. And I was not going ta let that happen ta her, no matter what it cost me. I knew if I fought, it would come back on Javal and even more dwarves would be killed. That I didn’t want. Almri…” He chuckled dryly, “She was a lot smarter than I was and she devised a way for me ta sneak her away in one of tha many, many, carts of rubble we were taking out. We spoke ta the others and they agreed that they would help us escape, as long as I promised ta tell Javal what was truly going on.”

  “Only a day later, with nearly ten of my brothers blocking tha view of the tunnel, I put Almri in a cart and then found tha lightest, least jagged rocks I could, and laid them on top of her. She was sick, but she was brave. When I had covered her properly, I wheeled her out and down the mountain trail that was set for us to dispose of the rubble. We had one guard following us, but he never saw it coming. I killed him, first time I’d ever done that ta anyone, and I put him in the cart and pushed it off a cliff. We took the long way around the mountain and Almri did fine. We were halfway back to Forgas…” Gort quieted again, and this time he held for what seemed forever until he was able to continue. “I went ta Forgas alone, let’s put it that way. And I kept my vow to my brothers and I told my King what they were doing, but there were so many that Idimus had not taken and Javal worried he may retaliate.”

  “So that’s what you meant when you said he’s been planning since the day you left,” Lanyan whispered.

  “Aye. Just because he didn’t show it as Rasonius did, he had his people’s best interest in mind. Javal didn’t want ta fight. I did. And I left Forgas and went from town to town combating every soldier, every grunt, and every tax collector I could get my hands on. I hated Idimus. I still do. I despised every soldier that forced my Almri ta work, every order given. I broke. I went on a rampage and I’m surprised I didn’t get myself killed. Almost did, though. In that same town we found Jeralyle, I was there in Tarnel picking a fight with one too many soldiers when…”

  The Dwarf directed to Elryia, “I saw a small-framed, blonde girl who looked like she couldn’t beat a nail with a hammer, scorching soldiers like they were nothing. When it was all over, I thanked her and saw fit ta go on my way. She stopped me and asked me why I fought tha soldiers, wondering if it was simply a misunderstanding. When I told her I was intentionally hunting every one of them, I thought she was going ta run but she grew even more interested. Talked for a while. Not there, of course. We headed east together… It all just sort of fell in ta place from there.”

  “I remember that day,” Grahamas said, looking between Elryia and Gort.

  “You were there?”

  “Aye. We had just arrived in Tarnel ourselves and were on our way to Davaina when we saw you.” The Champion chuckled for a moment, “You know, it’s coincidental. Only weeks before, we toyed with the idea of finding men and women from different races, before we spoke with their respective councils. It would have looked better for us. And there you were. It was almost like fate.”

  “So… I started all of this?”

  Grahamas found Elryia for a moment. Their journey and their battle had begun nearly a year before, but the soft smile and subtle wink from her told him how he should answer. “I suppose in essence, it began with you, yes.”

  During his recollection, Gort had shown an emotion few of them had ever seen from him: a quiet, somber emptiness that was very unlike him. But when Grahamas answered his question, he slowly began to resemble himself. Gave a hint of a smile to Graham and Elryia before turning a brighter, brasher grin to Lanyan.

  For the first time, Lanyan simply took it and didn’t argue or let the competitive streak of his personality show. And though it wasn’t evident on his face, he had a newfound respect for the Dwarf. It had been reiterated to him that things aren’t always as they seem. The earlier discussion of Javal and how he had been preparing since the day Gort left wafted back into his head, but this time he actually understood what Gort meant when he said it. He still would not agree that Gort’s king handled it better than his own, yet he now gave Javal more credit than he had originally—as well as Gort himself.

  All remained quiet long after. Merial occasionally cast a curious, eager glance back to Jeralyle. Lanyan often looked towards Ristalln and Lornya when one of them laughed loud enough for all to hear, and the Champion could not seemingly draw his attention off one thing he had not yet asked the Dwarf.

  “Why hammers Gort?”

  Almost in unison, the entire group let out a groan and Elryia turned distraught eyes upon him, “You should not have asked that Grahamas.” Darkness cast over her emotions, fearing it was already too late.

  “Gort, no. The Champion knows why. He was not serious,” Lanyan argued, trying to block the Dwarf’s view, but he bobbed back and forth trying to look Grahamas in the eye.

  “What?” Grahamas’ confused expression went between the Dwarf and El.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,’” she giggled.

  Though Lanyan continued, Gort persisted, “Tha man asked me a question and by tha beards of my brothers I’m going ta answer it!” The Elf sighed first, soon followed by Elryia. Neither could still him, so they simply sat back and tried their best to drown him out. “I chose hammers, first off, ‘cause they hurt…”

  As the Dwarf rambled and trailed off, Grahamas slowly began to realize he should have listened to everyone’s warnings. He sat, his head hung low, perhaps in shame as Gort reiterated ho
w badly hammers hurt. Without cause, his head jerked up a sternness storied on his face as he turned his ears towards the road behind them.

  “What Graham?” Elryia questioned, following his gaze, “What is it?”

  “Something…very Large, far behind us.”

  Lanyan looked confused for a moment, “Behind us? I don’t…” Gort had stopped as well, breaking the barricade between Grahamas and the Elf’s line of sight when he leaned back to see if he could hear it. Before Lan could finish his sentence, the Champion flicked a wink and nodded nonchalantly to Gort. It took a moment for Lanyan to catch on and even less time to cover his tracks, “…know what it sounds like…another dragon, Graham?”

  “Hard to tell. I’m unsure even if it’s coming towards us or away it’s so far. What do you think?”

  “Nor I. It sounds as though it’s fading…”

  “Perhaps we should remain quiet just in case. Agreed?”

  The companions nodded slowly, each with their own worried look. But one by one—be it by a gesture, a wink, or a whisper—they were assured that no danger lay behind them.

  All except Gort, though he did as was asked of him and remained silent, every now and then he would glance back, waiting for what he thought Grahamas had heard. And more often than not, he jerked his hand towards his waist, ready to wrench a hammer free.

  A long time passed, and once Grahamas was assured that Gort had forgotten his question, he gave one to Lanyan. “Do you know how to use a blade?”

  The Elf shook his head slowly, “Not well, no. Why do you ask?”

  “I was watching you in the forest. How you had to draw back to fire another bolt, but only one of your hands is necessary to use it. It’s a wonderful weapon, however not in close combat. If you could use both hands—one for close range, one for long—you would be quite formidable.”

  “I imagine. Unfortunately, very few elves are skilled with a blade. Most are simply archers. With all the time I spent in Sharia, I was unable to find anyone who could teach me.”

  “That’s why I asked. I would like to.”

  “Truly?”

  “Aye. If you’re willing to learn.”

  Lanyan raised his hand, moving it towards Grahamas as a sign of a deal, and the Champion shook. “Certainly.”

  “Good. The rest of you as well, if you wish.” Grahamas almost held back from making the offer to Carsis, but he knew singling him out wouldn’t benefit him either. So each nodded in response. “Before I teach you to use an actual sword, there are a few basics that I would like you to learn first.” Each member tilted their head and eventually so did Grahamas. “So…” he trailed off, biting his bottom lip as he searched his surroundings. For what though no one knew. “One moment, “ he said quickly and then charged Feiron ahead to Lornya and Ristalln, speaking with them both and then directly towards Lornya, leaning over and whispering to her.

  “What’s he saying?” Gort grunted at Lanyan.

  “I can’t hear him. I think he’s doing it on purpose.”

  When Lornya visibly agreed, Grahamas looked back, they both stopped and turned towards the side of the road. They rode to a small patch of trees that sat several yards from the road.

  “What are they doing?” Carsis asked, eyes on the forest.

  “Not sure,” Lanyan replied, his gaze locked on the same place.

  The two exited moments later and Lornya returned to her spot next to Ristalln, while Grahamas made way back to the group.

  “Where did ye go?” Gort asked, seemingly the most eager of the bunch.

  “To get your first lesson,” the Champion behind himself, rummaging through his saddlebag. “When I was young, the man who trained me—Tallvas—gave me my first task. I later gave it to Ristalln and countless others that I have taught.” Grahamas pulled one plum and then another from his bag. “Though we used eggs then, the principle is the same. This is to teach you to be comfortable with your grip.” Grahamas held a plum up over the road, “if your grip is too strong…” he demonstrated, crushing the fruit in his grasp, causing a clear liquid to seep out from his fingers and then onto the dirt. “Don’t squeeze hard enough…” he loosened his fingers and it fell to the ground and bounced. “The same goes for a blade. If your grip is too tight you lose mobility, if it’s not strong enough, the whole sword goes,” the Champion reached into his bag and one-by-one tossed each companion a plum. “If you can go the rest of the way without crushing or dropping it, we’ll begin lesson two.”

  Lanyan didn’t waiver, seeming at ease with the task, as did Merial. Carsis and Gort, with their large, gruff hands, appeared to have a much harder time, both giving more focus to their challenge.

  “Graham?” Lanyan was actually able to look away from his hand. “How long did it take you to master a sword?”

  “I don’t think you ever truly master it, as there’s always something more to learn. But it took me three years to surpass Tallvas, who at that time was the greatest swordsman.”

  “Three years… Do you think I’ll be a good swordsman?”

  The Champion considered for a moment, “In watching your speed, intuitiveness, and resourcefulness, I think you’ll be one of the greatest of your race…or any.”

  The Elf tried not to let his head swell at the compliment, “And Gort?”

  Both the Champion and Elryia faced the Dwarf, holding his plum directly in front of his face, eyes narrowed with concentration. “He may take…a bit more work,” Elryia giggled and then the rest laughed, the Dwarf never even looked up, unaware they were talking about him.

  With a smile, Grahamas turned his gaze towards the sky, simply enjoying the ride, drawing himself back, with Elryia following. When the group had carried enough distance as not to overhear—even Lanyan—Graham reached out, taking Elryia’s hand and with it, her attention.

  “I meant what I said.”

  That same playful, taunting expression she often carried surfaced as she turned. “About Gort taking time?”

  And the same soft glare from Graham. “No. About the day we met Gort, and it all beginning there.”

  “But it didn’t.” El’s eyes sharpened on him. “We established a plan almost a year before that.”

  “Aye. But that day, was when it truly began.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Graham squeezed her hand a little tighter. “Until that day, I had worried about a lot of things. Worried what would happen to you, if anything were to happen to me. Worried I was putting you in danger. About your safety. A number of other scenarios…” His head leaned to the sky as his words trailed off. “It all changed when I saw you.”

  Elryia fought back the blush. “How so?”

  “I’ve never…” Grahamas tumbled in his own mind, trying to find the words that the astonishment was keeping back. “Never encountered something like that. With the soldiers…you were unrelenting. Fierce. Lionhearted. Nothing would stop you. You wouldn’t let it. The moment it ended, and you dealt with Gort it was as if someone else had taken over. You were compassionate, focused and caring. Concerned only with bringing peace to Gort, and helping bring peace to all the others.” Graham looked her straight on. “It was then I was certain you would be an outstanding leader. You were able to be serene when it was needed. Yet when it was required, you were War.” Upon his final words, Grahamas took in a sharp breath, his eyes locked even harder on El. Deep in his mind, far beyond where he could fully reach, a memory flickered from that single word. Carried a much deeper meaning than he originally intended. And though no full clarity would come, his connection to her burned stronger than it ever had.

  Across from him icy blue orbs sharpened, the same distant memory burned even greater in her. Clouded, fleeting, but it was enough to race her heart. Drive her ambition.

  “El…” Squeezing her hand again, his gaze softened. “I kept you away because you didn’t need this war. I asked you to stay, because the people need you. Know that you’ve always been free to walk out, even now.”


  The stone stare remained, she squeezed back with a strength he never knew she had, and she spoke with an assertiveness that surprised even her. “Never.”