Daegan (The Age of Alandria: A Companion Novella)

by Wylie, Morgan

  Daegan looked on her with glimmering eyes full of sadness and simultaneous awe. He moved from sitting to a partial kneeling position. It was obvious he was in the presence of a rare greatness. She slowly knelt in front of him.

  “You have done more here today than you could have possibly known,” she spoke. Her voice was smooth and ethereal with the glittering sounds of chimes, as she lifted his chin with her long fingers.

  “They were torturing you.”

  “Yes, a mere tree... or perhaps not.” She raised an eyebrow with a twinkle in her eye. “But a lesser man would have kept to his path, perhaps even some greater ones too.” Daegan watched her as he could see the anger begin to grow within her eyes. “Now they torture you. I had to restrain you. I understand your anger, but your men are replaceable.” He frowned, obviously unsure he agreed. She finished in a much flatter tone, “Never again will that happen. They should not have been able to find me.”

  “Who are you?” Daegan rasped out.

  She extended her hand to pull him up along with herself. “I am Andreinna. Some call me the Priestess of the Forests. It is a name, one of many.”

  Daegan’s mouth was open, his eyes wide at hearing her name. He had heard it before, but only in stories.

  “We must not tarry. I owe you a boon—one not given lightly. The Ancients of this forest would not survive long without their keeper.”

  Daegan bowed his head to her. Stepping forward, she kissed the crown of his head. Lifting his chin once more, she looked intently into his eyes. Her eyebrows rose and a smirk lit upon her smile. “We shall meet again, you and I. You too, are a rarity, young Daegan.” She paused and looked around at the surrounding trees, her trees, then continued, “With the protection and favor of this forest, return to your mission.”

  He nodded. She walked backwards as if she glided on air, morphing her appearance once more into her true self, then stepped back into the tree, becoming one with it.

  That was something he would never forget and neither did she.

  ✠✠✠

  Back to the present, the squad currently with him continued to trek silently through the path that Daegan led them on. He could feel their trepidation not helped by the trees deciding to take action against their fellow warrior, Fromíl. Daegan had no idea what the trees did with their victims but he also did not want to know. The trees were not evil, but they remained neutral in Alandria and the war between darkness and light. They remained unto themselves and protected their own. Daegan was fortunate not to have had any incidents personally with them as many times as he had brought others through this part of the forest, but he also knew they were grateful and respected him to whatever end that they did.

  “Master Daegan?” Kâlin quietly stepped up beside Daegan.

  Inclining his ear, Daegan looked to the leader of the squad.

  “The men are reluctant to ask, but when will we arrive at the border?”

  “We are nearly there. The path is granted us, as long as there is no threat from us.” Daegan did not get into how he knew that, and to his credit Kâlin did not ask.

  Without further incident, the trees began to thin as they made their way closer to the edge of the Forest of Lumei. The light of day began to wane into the early evening sky. The men audibly exhaled with relief.

  Kâlin spoke as he rode up to Daegan. “Thank you, sir, we would not have made it without you.”

  “You would not be here in the first place if it had not been for me. Save your thanks,” Daegan said solemnly as he patted down Mayfair and prepped her to ride into the town of Anise, just outside of the city of Adettlyn. The men did as he did and mounted their horses with spirits a bit higher.

  As the men with him breathed the sweet open air, Daegan was grateful this did not end as that other journey had.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “Master Daegan?”

  “Kâlin, you do not need to address me as such when we are simply traveling on a journey,” Daegan replied wearily.

  He nodded, but Kâlin did not ultimately answer to Daegan. “Master Daegan, can you tell us more about the trees in the forest? I get the feeling that you have had dealings with them before.”

  Daegan sighed internally. “They are what you have heard of in the stories. Some of them are of the clan of Dryads here in Alandria, a neutral race, but highly sensitive and protective of their own.”

  “I do not know what language that was you used with them, but they seemed to listen to you. Why is that?”

  “I will not go into the details, but I have had dealings with them before. They are usually quite dormant, but darkness has been stirring again in Alandria and so have they. We have come to a mutual respect, but they do not listen to me. I think they simply tolerate me.” Daegan spurred his horse ahead of Kâlin, not to have to entertain his questions any further. Kâlin seemed to understand.

  Turning to address the men, “We still have hours of light yet. There is time to arrive and meet with the king in Adettlyn, so we will not need to take shelter here in Anise.”

  Grumbling ensued from the men. “We had hoped to get refreshed by The Drunken Boar before heading back.” Daegan could appreciate that, as he too liked to rest at the local pub that had a cozy environment and welcomed all races. It was hidden away and the waitresses always knew what he wanted. They always gave him special attention, especially when Hal was with him—not that he wanted the attention, but the atmosphere was comforting.

  “Business first, then if there is time, we will stop in.”

  The trek from Anise into the heart of Adettlyn was not far. Daegan used to love to come into the main city. Looking around, he could not help notice how the city was furthering into ruin. Many had left and it felt desolate and ill, almost like it was dying—perhaps it was. After all he had seen these last few days, he would keep his eyes and his highly attuned senses open to this place as well. He had the feeling that he had been kept blind to many things.

  There was a sadness and a lack of life as they approached closer to the city center. Similar to Elnye in Feraánmar, Adettlyn was not only the main city in Lumari but it was also where the castle was. The castle here was much larger than the one he lived in, but it was in greater ruin. Looking up at the castle even from a distance, one could see it was quite impressive, with turrets and spires. The most unique and beautiful thing about the structure was its actual build; large stones gave structure to it as most castles did, but it was fused together with branches and vines snaking throughout the castle walls. It had been heading to its demise for many years now; however, it seemed to have fallen into greater ruin in the last several years, infecting the life of the territory itself.

  Even the water near the very banks of Lake Ary’th that they passed on their way to the castle gates took on a brownish, sickly hue—contrasted with its usual vibrant turquoise. He could not understand why, since the water was fresh from the River Rancier straight off the mountains near L’nalrinia, one of his neighboring cities. The water that touched the other areas throughout Alandria did not seem to be affected as the water here had been.

  Something was not right here. Daegan could feel it in the very soil of this land, but he could not distinguish the emotion of the tremors of energy radiating out of the land, the trees, and even the animals, few though they were. There seemed to be confusion and chaos coupled with fear and anger.

  “Tread cautiously, men,” he warned, “I am not certain of how we are to be received here.”

  They made their way through the gates that adjoined the surrounding stone wall that rose an intimidating twelve feet from the ground. Guards, all Elves, stood like statues, armed, approximately every twenty feet atop the wall that ran as thick as a walkway wide enough for a warrior to be comfortable. Two guards stood outside the gates and another two stood on the inside of the iron bars.

  Daegan approached the first guard. The Elves were all armed, but concealed their weapons, unlike at Elnye. They wore long green cloaks and the only guards s
een with weapons were the archers along the wall and a few that carried spears. All the Elves bore a similar look, with pointed ears, fair skin, and sharp facial features. Individuality remained, however, with hair color in various subdued tones: blonde, white, black, silver-ish blue.

  “We bring a message from the Paladin at Elnye to your king. He is anticipating us,” Daegan delivered.

  “Give us your message and we will pass it on to the king,” the guard replied.

  “No.”

  “You do not trust us?” The other guard stepped forward.

  “I question no one’s loyalty. I must simply follow the order I was given. The message I deliver is for the king alone.” Daegan stood in place, staring at each of the guards with silent resolve. The discomfort coming off of not only his men, but also the guards was palpable until finally the first guard broke.

  “The king will see you,” he spoke with tension as he opened the gates and stood aside for the men to pass.

  Daegan barely even acknowledged the man as he passed, but Kâlin gave the man an appreciative nod.

  “Be wary of who you give your acknowledgments to,” Daegan chastised with such a low and gentle tone that his man thought it more instruction.

  The outside entry to the castle was unlike the one at his home. Whereas the entry at Elnye was open and full of greenery splattered with blooming explosions of color, the entry of Adettlyn was enclosed with a decorative but purposeful tunnel made of some kind of iron, now rusted and overgrown with the decay of once floral beauty. The dried grasses and the withering climbs of ivy spoke of the condition of the territory of the Elves and perhaps the people. Seeing up close the lack of care and natural devastation that had been inflicted upon the area pulled at something deep within Daegan.

  Entering the castle, they were greeted silently by several more guards even more armed than the number outside. Daegan had been here once before as a small child, barely able to ensure his memory’s accuracy, during the reign of the previous king. He thought he had not met the previous king before, but something triggered a long lost memory. There had been so much life and vibrancy. He remembered thinking it a beautiful place then—comfortable and welcoming. He did not remember much, but they—his parents and grandmother included—had been ushered quickly through the halls into a quiet room to speak with the king. Just as quickly as they had entered, they had fled after only a short visit. Unable to remember why they had been there, but just that they had, he could not even recall the face of the king. Keeping his eyes open, he looked in vain for something to trigger his memory further.

  The grand foyer was elegant with everything done in what was once bright whites and soft creams, but currently looked like used bandages. The branches and vines fused together with the stones holding everything in place could be seen from the inside of the castle as well. The towering ceiling of the entry skyrocketed many stories high. The walls were mostly curved. As they were ushered down one hallway after another through the maze that seemed to make up this castle, Daegan noticed through several large wooden doorways the rooms that lay beyond. Within each room that he could see, the common decor of structure seemed to be a tree that anchored the room by joining two of the walls. It was quite a sight, even though the trees were browning, not fully alive but not yet dead. Roots broke through the ceiling from the trees on the floor above, weaving between the branches and vines, stitching the castle walls together.

  Trepidation mixed with awe occasionally hit Daegan’s senses. Soon, they arrived at what seemed to be an additional entry into a larger room.

  “Wait here,” a guard that led them commanded before he pushed open one of the heavy wooden doors that were easily twice Daegan’s height.

  Whispering to his men, he looked them each in the eye. “You do not speak. I deliver the message, we leave.” They inclined their heads to his not so subtle command.

  Just then both doors opened inward, revealing a throne room large enough to house its rival in Elnye and more. It was in much the same decor as the rest of the castle, but with pure white curved walls creating a large sphere, and smooth reflective cream marble floors. Seven trees larger than most anchored around the room at specific intervals. Their branches grew in and out of the walls themselves and their canopies fused with the wood beams that somehow created a dome with openings to let in the light of day and that of the night as well—the source of the Elves’ magic.

  They had apparently entered the room from the side in accordance to the location of the three large thrones that were quite solidly made from smooth, white wood. The white walls climbed with differing ivy and other thicker, stronger climbing foliage. Placed above and behind the thrones was a large greenish flag hung proudly bearing the marking of the Elves—a hollow eight-pointed sun with the crescent of the moon sitting on the inside of the circle.

  Just below that stood an Elf, his hands braced on the back of the tallest throne, eyeing Daegan and his men suspiciously. His hair was a polished, glistening white that waved down to his shoulders. His face suggested mid-fifties in age and the lines around his eyes and mouth suggested roughly that, but the sharpness in his eyes reflected an age that was older... much older. Garbed in a long green robe, he carried himself regally.

  “Please enter,” he welcomed as he gestured in front of the thrones.

  Though his tone and his words were welcoming, there was something false about his tone that caught Daegan’s ear. As Daegan entered, something alerted his senses and he reached out to place his hand gently upon the tree that was mere feet from where he stood. He only grazed a finger before the king cleared his throat too roughly.

  “Please! Do not touch the trees. They are sensitive,” he warned.

  “My apologies, your highness.” Daegan barely inclined his head. The feeling he got from the tree was most disturbing. It was as if the tree were suspended in life. It was not dead, but its energy was... stuck. However, it gave Daegan’s senses the extra jolt they needed to realize that what he was seeing in the room was nothing more than a glamour to magically disguise that the decay in this room was no different than the rest of the castle. It was a devastating sight to see, brief though it was—the trees barren of their leaves, the vines nothing more than dried branches, the flag barely still hanging on the wall, and the walls dirty and peeling. He did not understand why this room was concealed in glamour, when the rest of the castle obviously was not.

  The king stood motionless, staring at the men as they made their way for an audience. Daegan did not intend to anger the king, but he also refused to back down or be intimidated by the man before him. There was something not right about not only the castle, but the king himself.

  The king was the original king’s brother, who had taken the throne when it was clear that King Ryek was not returning. It had not been the same since. This, however, was not the time for Daegan to try to discover what was going on, but to complete his mission and return home.

  “Welcome to Adettlyn.” The king extended his arms wide, showing off his impressive domain. Daegan’s men bowed while Daegan once again gave a subtle bow with his head.

  “My guards informed me you have come with a message from Elnye. I have not spoken with your Paladin in quite some time. What message could they have for me that you had to bring it personally, Daegan Waethní servant of Elnye?” Something akin to a challenge rose in the king’s eyes, but Daegan ignored it.

  “Sire, my Lady Maleina hand wrote her message and sealed it herself for your eyes alone.” He pulled out a small folded parchment with a seal of red wax upon the opening from the inside pocket of his traveling jacket. Extending it to the king, he held it on his open palm. The king took it and examined it.

  “She trusts you.” It was a statement, but also carried with it a question. Upon careful inspection, the king found it unopened.

  “If that is all, Your Majesty, we have instructions to make our return journey tonight,” Daegan spoke as he bowed while beginning to back out of the king’s presence
.

  “Wait, if you will, in case a reply is needed.” The king proceeded to open the letter, reading it quite quickly. The king looked up from the letter, studying Daegan briefly, then the other men with him. “Inform your lady the message was received. Now take your leave as I have matters to attend to.” The king turned to sit in his throne, taking no further notice of the men still standing there. In his haste, he flashed the parchment to the side allowing a glimpse for Daegan to see what was written: It is beginning.

  Not wanting to linger any longer, Daegan turned and strode out of the room, his men practically on his heels. Something heavy weighed deep in his stomach. Those three simple words, and the fact they rode for a day to hand deliver them, sent unease up and down his spine.

  Once out of the castle, they stood on the banks of the lake. Multiple docks protruded from the shore with small, narrow primitive wooden boats tied to them.

  “Master Daegan? Did you feel... strange in the castle?” one of his men asked.

  “There is something going on here that I do not yet understand, but I feel it is of importance that we return to Elnye as swiftly as we can.” Untying the ropes, he could feel the slight disappointment radiating off a couple of the warriors.

  “We had hoped to head back by way of Anise to stop in at the Boar,” another offered.

  “Another time, men, let us take our leave.” Daegan jumped into one of the boats.

  “We may take two boats. Two in each. The currents will send us down river back to Elnye faster than returning through the forest. Unless you wanted to camp for the night within the shelter of the Forest of Lumei?” he asked rhetorically as his boat rocked mere seconds later. The men jumped into each boat quickly with no further question or comment.

  They arrived back at the banks by the bridge of Lumei just outside the forest and within the borders of Feraánmar right as dawn was about to break the following morning. It was late and they had traveled throughout the night, but they arrived in decent time and with no events to speak of.