The Last Ritual

by S K Smith

‘You’re coming?’ Elle squealed, running up to Theo.

  ‘I promised we’d protect you, and even though we’re not much use right now, the jobs not done.’ Niall laughed. Ayda fought back the urge to hold him. Even now, against all the odds and all the struggles, he was steadfast. Something must have shown in Ayda’s eye because Niall’s face softened as he walked closer to her.

  ‘How is she? The Old Knight seems to think there are healers at the Temple?’ He said softly, peering in to check Syren.

  ‘Yes, that is where we must go.’ Ayda replied. Niall nodded in understanding.

  ‘Thank you for saving her, and for... well everything.’ Ayda added, blushing slightly.

  ‘You’re going soft,’ Niall replied, Ayda could see he was secretly pleased, it had taken her too long.

  ‘Do you think Sir Rakel remembers you?’

  ‘What? From when? Eh?’ Niall seemed shocked as he stumbled over his words.

  ‘From across the bridge, you know when we were children.’ Ayda replied, wondering why he reacted so worriedly. Ayda grew suspicious, it wasn’t like him, was he hiding something? Had something happened between them? Had Sir Rakel gone back to the town for revenge?

  ‘Oh, I dunno,’ Niall said, seemingly relieved, ‘You don’t trust him.’

  ‘You think I should?’

  ‘Since when have you cared what I thought?’ Niall laughed shyly. Ayda became very aware that they were alone with sleeping Syren. Elle had been whisked away by Karl and Theo.

  ‘I hate him for leaving Father.’

  ‘Yet, if he’s telling the truth, then he saved your Mother,’ Niall shrugged.

  ‘He could have taken Elle with him.’

  ‘Your Father was a Mage, they probably believed he was more likely to succeed in protecting your Sister,’ Niall countered. When Ayda opened her mouth to argue Niall raised his hand.

  ‘You are wise not to readily trust but be careful not to push the few friends you have away.’

  ‘Are we going?’ Sir Rakel appeared with the others, each had mounted a horse waiting for them. Ayda and Niall climbed onto their mounts and followed Sir Rakel north. Ayda hoped she had made the right decision, her mind seemed so clouded, and everything was out of her control. She thought on what Niall had said and knew he was right. She found herself trusting him, and his comrades, they were still with her after all, when so many of her Elven friends were now her enemies. Syren’s cart prattled behind them, lead on by Karl and Theo. She hoped it would not take long to get to the Temple, she prayed Syren would make it.

  Days passed without event. The snow had melted as they moved on. Fertile green lands adorned with everlasting trees and endless rolling hills made way for the smooth glass river, flowing fluently through the lips of land. They had reached the Myr River within a day and were now following it steadily north as instructed. Syren had not weakened as much as they feared, even though she spent much of her time sleeping. The sound of rushing water had soothed Ayda, the peaceful tranquillity of water had poured through her and seemingly washed many of her concerns away. Unfortunately, the river had not washed Sir Rakel away, she thought. She wanted to trust him, she really did. He had been a close companion of her Father since they were boys and like an Uncle to her and Elle. But how could she trust him after he abandoned them? To Elle, it was like he had never been missing. She still loved him and respected him. Ayda knew Elle considered him a hero after bringing Ayda home safely all those years ago, even though Elle had not been around, she had heard stories. Having never travelled this far north, the group marvelled at the river and the surroundings. Birds of the brightest blues and yellows nestled in the trees that lined the river, wild flowers towered over the grass, as though reaching for the sun. There were no paths to speak of, this part of their world was untouched and untamed. Sir Rakel explained that they were growing close to the border of the Wastes. People rarely ventured this far north, as there was nothing to visit. No villages, no business and no land for farming.

  ‘Do many travel this way to reach the Temple?’ Theo asked once.

  ‘No, for only very few people know the whereabouts of the Temple, only those who have access to Royal Maps. I have never seen it. Your Father told me we would find the Temple at the Source of the River.’ Sir Rakel explained.

  ‘Did you not escort Father to the Temple when he was younger?’ Ayda asked.

  ‘Good heavens no, he met with a Scholar who took him in, I believe him to be the last to have seen it.’

  ‘The Temple is a library of records and knowledge,’ Ayda recalled, ‘The Elders pass down knowledge to the Scholars, who record it and study it. It is forbidden for any Scholar to share this information with anyone outside of the Temple. It is punishable by death.’

  ‘Yes indeed.’ Sir Rakel nodded,

  ‘So why did one of them take my Father in, if the Elders forbid magic?’

  ‘I believe you will have to ask him that, as I will not pretend to know everything, I know my duty, that is all.’ Sir Rakel bowed his head.

  ‘It will be heavily guarded then,’ Niall contributed, ‘How do you plan on getting us in?’

  ‘I have been told to escort you to the Temple where we will be met by the Scholar.’ Sir Rakel blushed slightly.

  ‘So, there is no plan. We just wait for the mystery Scholar who is breaking his most sacred rule. Sounds brilliant.’ Niall replied sarcastically, shooting an exasperated look at Ayda. Ayda was pleased to see the old Knight shift uncomfortably. This whole plan seemed foolish to her. Firstly, they were following and taking advice from a Protector who had betrayed them, trusting that his information and intentions were good. Secondly, they were waiting for an old man who had broken his oath to smuggle them in - and that was if the whole plan was not a fabrication to lure them into the hands of the Legion. Ayda saw defeat in both outcomes. Either Sir Rakel was lying and leading them to their enemy, or he was telling the truth, and the lameness of his plan lead them to their enemy. Ayda hated the whole plan. Elle, however, had complete and unwavering confidence in Sir Rakel. To her he was the Knight in her childhood story books. Ayda had promised to protect Elle, which meant following her into danger. By her side she would stay. They had grown tired and sore from riding and were now on foot, leading their horses along the meandering skirts of the river. Ayda’s leather boots were filthy, where they were once black on polished, they were now brown, but she was used to it. Trousers, armour, swords and dirt were common place when on Patrol and in the Barracks, she had called home. She felt comfortable in her tunic and ‘men’s clothes’ as Brielle and her Mother had once jibed. To her credit, Elle had not once complained about her attire. Ayda remembered the pale-pink lace dress she had last seen her little sister in. She closed her eyes and remembered the last time her family had been together. It felt so long ago. Brielle had been overjoyed with the feast, with the dancing and the dresses. She had bloomed in a carefree and childish way and revelled in the entertainment. Her Mother and Father had been flying so high and were so loved by everyone around them. Ayda felt the low sun warm her face as her emotions caught in her chest when she remembered how everyone had applauded and congratulated the family on Elle’s summons. The summons that had led to the end of life as they knew it. She caught her Father’s laughter in her mind and felt it heavy and painful but also beautiful and pure, it was too much to hold on to, she let it go. His laughter faded. Her heart was full of love for her family. She recollected her Father’s last words to her, the words she had thought so strange at the time, ‘she has every right to be scared… she will need her sister to guide her and protect her.’ Ayda realised that maybe her Father had known something was going to happen. Which meant that Sir Rakel could be telling the truth.

  ‘Ayda, are you ok?’ Elle had appeared at her side, she had not realised she had fallen so far behind the group, Ayda had enjoyed swimming in the safe serenity of memory. Trying to retain the swelling in her heart she looked at her sister. Her strong, wonderful sister. Putting her
arm around her she smiled.

  ‘I’m fine, Elle, just remembering our Father.’ Ayda smiled.

  ‘You don’t smile anymore,’ Elle pointed out, ‘It must be a good memory?’

  ‘I don’t think I have any bad memories of Father,’ Ayda scrunched up her face trying to think.

  ‘Well you’re lucky, I remember him emptying my chambers of dolls when I was small,’ Elle said cheerfully. Ayda knew she was joking, it warmed her heart. After everything, Elle was still able to encourage happiness. She was so much stronger than she appeared.

  ‘To make room for new ones I remember!’ Ayda laughed, squeezing her treasure.

  ‘Yes, it’s funny isn’t it?’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘To be so afraid that you have lost everything, to then realise you were always blessed with so much more.’ Elle said peacefully. Her little sister had grown into such a special young elf. She had always known Elle to be kind and sensitive, but she was now so much more than that. Her troubles and her pains had made Elle stronger, smarter and had opened her mind to potential. She had overcome so much that her confidence had enlightened her. Ayda saw her now, less as a child and more as a leader, a Princess who would one day make for the wisest of Queens. Theo called out to Elle and joyfully she ran to him. He had found something, it was cupped in his hand and when revealed, Elle had cried out in glee.

  ‘She is an amazing little Elf.’ A voice said weakly. Ayda had been walking closer to the litter and realised she had heard some of the conversation with Elle.

  ‘There was a moment when I was afraid of her.’ Ayda admitted painfully, walking up to the litter. Syren was doing well, she could not walk and was still very weak, but she was still with them and was still fighting, Ayda marvelled at her will. She hoped her friend would make the journey.

  ‘I think we all were and still should be.’ Syren said. Ayda looked at her friend questioningly.

  ‘She is young, and although wise and pure, she still lacks control.’ Syren explained, wincing slightly as she tried to move to a more comfortable position.

  ‘She will master it.’ Ayda replied confidently.

  ‘She spent a lot of time apologizing to me,’ Syren continued, ‘She felt guilty for hurting me, but she was also proud she was able to save you. She has become less afraid of herself I believe.’

  Ayda had noticed the change in her sister. Since the attack at the village, Elle had become more confident and was not as scared as she had been before. She had done what Ayda could not, she had grown with her trials, like ivy that spreads persistently higher, through weather and decay. Ayda could not help but feel angry with herself. She had been slightly older than Elle when she had ventured to Oaktown. The events there had changed her, crushed her, she knew that. Before that dreadful incident, she had been proud to be heir, and was excited at the prospect of being Queen. But since, all passion for leadership had died. She did not trust anyone, and worse, she no longer trusted herself. She had explained to her parents her plan to reject her claim to the throne. It had come as a shock, as they had had to, before, remind her that she was not yet Queen as she ran around barking commands as a child. Ayda had sworn to protect her loved ones and strengthen herself, so she would never fail as a friend again. No one had ever heard from her lips why she planned to give up her title, but most had guessed. Ayda had drowned in the guilt of leaving her friend behind, and even after so many years, still wallowed in it’s deep, dark waters. Reeds had wrapped around her ankles, tying her to remorse, never forgiving herself and never moving on. She couldn’t even say his name anymore and refused to remember his face. Ayda had believed this was the reason she was not worthy of the summons. She would not fail again. Growing up she had kept her circle of friends small, only ever playing with Brielle and training daily with Syren. They were all she needed, they were all she trusted. Anyone else would be shackles around her wrists, she feared love and she feared loss, after all she had endured. Regret must have greyed her face, as when Syren next spoke, it was to voice Ayda’s deepest fear.

  ‘I think a time will come, when the world needs Elle, more than she needs us.’ Syren said quietly.

  ‘I think that time is nearly upon us,’ Ayda nodded. She believed this deep down in her heart. Even worse, she believed that time was closer than they realised. Ayda had spent her life, mastering the art of combat so she could see of danger for her family. If her sister was to become a powerful mage, then what purpose did Ayda serve? Her whole life had been leading up to her becoming nothing, not even able to defend her family. And what of her sister? She had already exhibited signs of a great ruler. She was kind, she was smart, she inspired love and loyalty, even from humans! Ayda knew that Elle had a big part to play. Elle had magic. Ayda still had not fully grasped that magic had been dead to the world for centuries, the only known Mages were the Elders, and now suddenly, both the King and Elle had magic? Worse, the Elders had never sent the Legion Captains out to hunt a solitary Elf before. She had heard stories of the Legion supressing rebellion against their own authority, but that was rare. Something big was happening, Ayda was sure of it, and one day they would find the answers.

  12 – ELLE

  It was a relief to see Ayda smile again. Ayda had not been happy for as long as Elle could remember, she was always busying herself at the Barracks and never cared much for socialising, but she had never seen her so clouded. It had been a fine moment when Elle had noticed her sister and Niall progress, it seemed that Ayda had let go of whatever it was that had barricaded her into solitude. Elle knew there was more to that story. Ayda and Niall seemed so different around each other. Niall was usually cocky and playful when with her, Theo and Karl, yet with Ayda he was careful and nervous. Ayda also seemed more on edge and more prone to outbursts around him. She wondered on their story. Theo had made several comments over the course of the journey, about a potential history or deeper meaning and she was desperate to know more. What was it between them? She doubted it was love. Ayda simply could not bear to look at him before, she seemed to loathe him. She had been trying more recently though, Elle had guessed that might be because of what he had done for her and Syren. She was happy to see it, Ayda was certainly more approachable now. Elle was proud of her sister. Ayda had ran to her aid during the attack knowing full well that she stood no chance against a Captain of the Legion. The way Ayda was handling Syren’s injuries was encouraging too, her sister simply refused to believe Syren would leave her, and Syren seemed much stronger because of it. Syren. Her biggest regret. Wracked with guilt at the injuries her magic had caused, Elle had apologised repeatedly. Syren had instantly forgiven her and soothed her, explaining that it was necessary for the good of the team. How she wished she had shouted out to Syren not to strike him. But she couldn’t, if she had the Captain might have guessed her plan, and she was almost out of magic, so she couldn’t take the risk. The Princesses would never forget Syren’s sacrifice. She remembered the boy arriving to tell them of the attack on the village, and Brielle had wasted no time fighting Theo off, who had tried to stand in her way. She was never going to leave her sister to die. Surprising herself, she had arrived at the village, furious, but focussed. Her mind had been angry but clear, she was there to defend Ayda. Feeling strength in the knowledge that she could control magic, she felt more stable, and happier to be around her friends. She was less of a burden to them now, she thought. How much life had changed! Seeing Sir Rakel arrive on Trojan his huge black stallion had reignited a raging inferno through her blood. She had thought her family lost, but with his arrival she suddenly had her Knight in shining armour and her Mother returned to her. All was not lost! There was hope! The others did not trust him, she knew, she understood. But she did not let that dampen her elation, she had so few friends, but she cherished each of them and delighted in an ally returning to her. Sir Rakel had answered all her prayers, Mother was alive, Syren would be healed and she would learn how to be a Mage. How could she not trust him after he brought them such mar
vellous hope! She felt buoyed by the change in situation, she felt stronger, more powerful. She was a swan gliding over the beautiful hilltops, sun in the sky, and soon she would be flying home. It was bliss. Hope was the magic her soul had been starved of.

  ‘How much longer?’ She asked the old Knight excitedly.

  ‘I’m not sure Princess,’ Sir Rakel responded gently, ‘It is beginning to grow dark, we should stop soon.’ Elle was impatient to reach the Temple, she did not want to rest, she wanted to keep walking. The prospect of learning to control her magic enthused her. Then she would be able to return to her Mother with Ayda and protect them. It was all she desired. Sir Rakel was excellent company, Brielle found. He would tell her wonderful stories of his past, from when he was a child playing in the Castle with the young Prince, or when he was on an adventure with his comrades. He was wise, experienced and a legendary swordsman, which was how he became her Father’s Chief Protector. Elle often caught the suspicious glances thrown at him from her troop, whilst they pricked at her they could not puncture her joy. Let them distrust him, she thought, he would prove to be true. She knew it. Eventually they stopped, the team began to ready camp. Theo disappeared again, most likely to hunt which he seemed to excel at. Ayda set about the task of preparing Elle with somewhere comfy to sleep as she always did. Karl was readying a fire whilst Niall and Rakel aided Syren out of the litter and placed her gently next to the new born fire, wrapping her up in spare blankets. Elle believed Syren grew stronger every day, but the exchanges between her friends were never positive. Syren had not stood, or done much on her own since the accident, she had explained the night before that she could move her limbs, but it just pained her to do so, she could manage to slowly feed herself and drink, so that was a relief. Elle got the impression that Syren had put a middle finger up to death for now, and was clinging on with everything she had, digging her nails in to life. She hoped there wasn’t too much pain and prayed that the Scholar could fix her. When everyone was finished, they settled down, Theo returned with a fresh kill and began roasting it on the fire. Elle began to beg Sir Rakel for another story. She always enjoyed his stories. Tonight, he had promised her the story she had been waiting for. The story that gave rise to the Elders and destroyed Elven lands, known as the Wastes. Sir Rakel cleared his throat and began;