by CK Dawn
Without another word, the Master of Fire slumped to a heap in the sand, never to rise again.
Elaina sighed. Physically she might have been fine, but emotionally she was exhausted. Fighting against her own kin was heartbreaking.
Turning her back on the destruction littering the beach, Elaina went in search of her beloved Marcus.
Twelve
Three of the remaining Council of Five watched in awe as Elaina Stormborn dispatched Falinor and his minions. Waldern was the first to speak: “You were right, Vintar. Now we may have only one problem, but I think we can all agree that it is a considerable one.”
“Falinor was painful, to be sure,” replied Winara. “But a rogue Guardian who will not submit to our authority poses an even greater risk. If word of this reaches the Allfather, his response will be devastating. When Tolan rebelled against him it almost cost our people everything. If he were to think for a moment that Elaina's actions represented the will of the Astarii, we might lose everything.”
“Indeed, Winara,” Waldern agreed. “That is why we must carry word to him ourselves, before he discovers it. If we go on our own, he will at least know we are not complicit in her actions.”
“You want to tell him yourself—are you mad?!” Winara replied in an instant. “Not only would we be telling him one of our own has subverted his mandate, but we would be admitting that we are incapable of dealing with it.”
“I don't dispute that it carries risk,” Vintar said at last in support of Waldern’s proposal. “But it is certainly better than him discovering it for himself. Our only other option is to attempt to deal with her ourselves, and, well . . . you saw how that turned out for Falinor. Would either of you like to volunteer?”
Silence hung heavily in the air of the Council chambers. Vintar let it be for several moments before continuing: “No I thought not. Best to throw ourselves at the feet of the Allfather and make it clear that Elaina's actions do not represent our will. We remain as ever his loyal servants.”
“So you will go then, Vintar?” Waldern asked hopefully.
“Oh, I think it is only fair that we draw lots,” Vintar replied. “Let fate decide who among us will go.”
“I don't think so,” Waldern answered. “You set this plan in motion without warning us. I feel it's only fitting that you see it through to its conclusion.”
“I agree,” Winara added quickly. “Next time run your scheme by us before it gets us all killed.”
Vintar looked at his fellow Council members and nodded. “Very well. Two votes against one. I will go, as you wish.”
The Master of Arcana rose and departed the chamber, across the hallway he pulled aside an ornate curtain and entered the inner sanctum of the Temple of the Elements.
In the chamber before him lay a large golden dish resting in a frame balanced on five pillars that represented the Council's respective domains. Inside the dish the Sacred Flame of the Astarii burned brightly. It had burned without ceasing since the Temple's construction, its existence symbolic of the Allfather—as long as the flames flickered the Council could rest assured that the Allfather's gaze was drawn to his people. As the Astarii watched over Creation, so too were they being watched over by the Allfather.
The flames also served as a means for the Five to commune with the Allfather. Waving a hand above the Sacred Flame, Vintar chanted, and the flames leapt and changed color in response. Instead of flickering orange tongues they burned a brilliant blue. Satisfied, Vintar sat before them, crossed his legs slowly and began to meditate, hoping to ease his racing heart.
To enter the Celestial City without the Allfather's permission was tantamount to suicide. It had not always been so. Once upon a time the Astarii walked the Celestial city freely as they went about the Allfather's business. All that had changed the day Tolan, an Astarii of great power, rose up against the Allfather. Tolan had fought boldly in the Allfather's cause and rose swiftly through the ranks. In time he had been appointed command of the Warhost of Creation. For centuries he led the Warhost to victory after victory, enlarging the borders of Creation and growing the Allfather’s domain, but in time Tolan became frustrated. With every hard-won victory the Allfather's domains expanded, but his own title and grandeur remained unchanged. Far from the Celestial City he fought ceaselessly, but he began to tire of building another's kingdom.
The furtive seeds of rebellion found root in Tolan’s heart and he turned against the Allfather, plunging Creation into a civil war that reached the very gates of the Celestial City itself. The Allfather answered Tolan's defiance and the insurrection was crushed. Despite his victory, the Allfather never forgot the betrayal of his chosen servant. Ever since that day the Astarii had continued in the service of the Allfather but were held at a distance, and not permitted the same freedoms and favor they had once enjoyed. Of all the races in creation they stood apart in power and privilege, but their privileges still rested on the Allfather’s goodwill. A commodity that had diminished of late.
Vintar wondered how the news of another rogue Astarii would be received. He had considered that his plan might come to this, but he saw no help for it and could not judge how the Allfather would react to such news.
A rushing wind filled the inner sanctum and Vintar looked up to see the flames now burning bright gold, like the burnished dish they rested in. Vintar knew the meaning well—he was being summoned to the Celestial Court.
“I guess we will soon see,” Vintar murmured. He had hoped Waldern would volunteer for the task—the Master of Earth was a talented diplomat and would have been well suited to the challenge. But Waldern's unfortunate lack of ambition served him well and he had happily let the dangerous task fall on Vintar's shoulders.
With a sigh Vintar raised his hands and opened a portal that would span the stars and carry him to the Celestial Court.
Thirteen
Vintar emerged from the portal into the Celestial Court, grand beyond measure, surpassing any edifice made by the hands of mortal men. The entire room seemed to glow with an inner light as every exquisite detail of the burnished gold fittings and motifs reflected the light of the torches that rested in golden brackets along its walls. Everywhere the symbol of the Allfather was present—a golden sun bearing the features of a human face smiling on those before it, reassuring and unsettling at the same time.
In one sense it was reassuring to think that, like the sun, the Allfather gave life to all about him. Then there was the smile—something about it had always bothered Vintar. It seemed like the grin you might see on a vagabond right after he stabbed you in the back. Possessed of a sound and calculating mind, he seldom had to feel the nagging worry of uncertainty. Today he felt the conflicting emotions weighing heavily on his shoulders.
Vintar turned toward the Throne where the Allfather sat—and startled. The elaborate high-backed throne was set into a hemisphere of solid gold polished to resemble the surface of the sun itself. But the Throne before him sat empty.
“Why have you come, Vintar?” The sonorous voice echoed through the chamber and Vintar spun and half fell, half knelt to the Allfather standing beside him—his majesty demanded it.
The Allfather stood over seven feet tall. His golden hair billowed down to his shoulders, where it met his ornate breastplate. He was dressed head to toe in elaborate white and gold plate armor of the finest craftsmanship, the image of the smiling sun shining brightly on the polished breastplate.
As always, Vintar was in awe of the being before him. He's glorious, Vintar thought as he beheld the Allfather, whose countenance seemed to glow with an inner light. Unsure that he should even be looking upon the being before him, Vintar averted his gaze.
“That is enough of your obeisance,” the Allfather said. “You are of the Five—there is no need to kneel in my presence. Stand and answer my question.”
Vintar slowly stood. “Allfather, I am sorry to intrude. I bring word concerning a matter of great import.” He searched the Allfather's face for any indication o
f his mood or knowledge.
The Allfather stared back, his countenance completely unreadable.
“Speak, Vintar. I wish to know what would cause you such great anxiety.”
Vintar nodded. “There is an issue with one of our Guardians. She has deviated from her mandate and neglected her duties. She grows increasingly bold in her interference with the affairs of her world. Most recently she destroyed a fleet of ships, killing thousands, in order to save a handful of souls she has developed sympathies for.”
“Why bring this to me, Vintar? Surely the Five are capable of dealing with such a matter themselves.”
“Indeed, we tried. We dispatched Falinor, the Master of Fire, with two of his Acolytes to deal with her. I regret to say they all perished in his attempt to carry out the Council's will. It appears the Guardian has grown in power, and that her abilities now surpass our understanding.”
“So you have failed and now you are here. Why, Vintar?” The Allfather’s voice rose and his questions shook the chamber. “What is it you want from me? Has it fallen to me to carry out the mandate I gave your Council?”
Vintar glanced about, afraid that his answers might anger the Allfather further. In his own realm he reigned supreme, but before the might of the Allfather he trembled as a wayward child waiting to be chastened.
“The Council wished for me to bring her rebellion to your attention, so that you would know her actions are those of an individual, actions that are condemned by our people, who remain as always your faithful servants.”
“So it is fear that brought you here?” The Allfather asked.
“No, your eminence. It was loyalty that brought me here. If it is your will that we continue our efforts to subdue her, we will do so. We merely sought to inform you of our discovery and ensure our actions are in accord with your divine will.”
“Then consider your duties complete. You may return to the Temple and attend to the duties of the Council.”
“What of the Guardian?”
“Forget her. I will deal with her myself. You may go.”
“Don't you want to know which world she watches over?” Vintar asked, a little perplexed.
“It's Meldinar, is it not?” The Allfather’s question was more a statement than a question. “Elaina the Stormborn is its Guardian, is she not?”
“Yes,” Vintar replied, surprised.
“Do you think you are the only one capable of scrying a distant world, Vintar? Do not ever believe me ignorant of what transpires in my domain.”
Vintar nodded his understanding hastily.
“Forgive my presumption, Allfather—what of Meldinar? Do you require anything of the Council?”
The Allfather smiled, the same unnerving smile worn by the sun emblazoned on his breastplate. “Appoint another Guardian—one that will do their duty.”
“And Elaina?” Vintar asked.
“As I said earlier, I will attend to her. Take no further action against her—am I clear?”
“As crystal,” Vintar replied, nodding and bowing before the Allfather.
The Allfather raised a hand and a golden gateway materialized before Vintar. The Temple of the Five Elements was visible in the gateway’s shimmering surface. “Go now, Vintar. See that you don't disappoint me again.”
Vintar nodded once more and hastened through the portal, eager to be out from under the Allfather's watchful gaze.
Fourteen
On reaching the Manor, Marcus had ordered the militia to stand down. After speaking with Balan, he dispatched a troop to scour the beach and countryside for survivors. Marcus had shown her to the guest quarters and left her in peace as she had requested.
As the sun set over the western horizon Elaina collapsed onto the bed in the chamber Marcus had ordered be prepared for her. Alone for the first time since she had saved him, Elaina was drained and struggling to come to terms with all she had done. Her intentions had been to spare the Listarii from their fate, but she had acted in haste. Now thousands of slavers were dead. Elaina felt little pity for them—Meldinar could do without their kind—but in her haste she had not considered the innocents who might have been aboard their vessels. Slaves taken against their will, still aboard their vessels when Elaina had torn the fleet apart, had perished with the attackers. Guilt was an unfamiliar sensation to the Guardian.
Then there was the matter of Falinor and his Acolytes. Taking the life of another Astarii was unthinkable, but to kill one of the Five was a crime so heinous it had never been committed by an Astarii. Guilt wracked her conscience for this, too. She had acted in self-defense but the actions were her own choice.
Now in quiet reflection, Elaina wondered if it could have been otherwise. The ride back to Listarii Manor had passed in silence. If Marcus had questions about what he had witnessed he had kept them to himself.
Elaina lay on the bed staring at the smooth plaster ceiling, her body fatigued but her mind racing. From the day she had first laid eyes on Marcus her world had been turned inside out. She loved him. Of that she had no doubt. In the days since they had left King's Court they had only grown closer. Now that she was at odds with her own people, her presence posed a threat to him and Elaina was re-considering her choices.
Her head told her to run, for Marcus's safety. Her heart told her what she already knew—she couldn't bear the pain of leaving him.
As her thoughts played across the smooth ceiling, a golden light appeared in the air before the bed. The light expanded in both size and shape until a golden doorway stood before her.
Elaina rolled off the bed and backed up against the wall, prepared to meet whatever threat emerged from the shining portal. She had expected retaliation from the Five in response to Falinor's death, but she had also expected his death to give them pause. Elaina needed time to plan a course of action. The portal before her told her that time was a dream that would never be realized.
The portal solidified and the image before her pierced Elaina to her core. An enormous warrior in white and gold armor stepped through the portal and into the small room. He radiated power, and his stance was steady, confident, and uncompromising. Elaina had never laid eyes on such a being before.
“Elaina Stormborn, do you know who I am?”
Elaina's eyes played across the golden image of the smiling sun on his breastplate. “Y-you are the Allfather.”
“Indeed I am. You can relax, Elaina. If I were here to harm you, that shield you are summoning as we speak would do you little good.”
Elaina relaxed, allowing the arcane energy to dissipate.
The Allfather continued. “Elaina, you have strayed far from your duties—the death of Falinor today has sealed your fate.”
Elaina's protestations were immediate. “I gave him a chance to walk away—I didn't want to kill him or his Acolytes. I just wanted to be left in peace, to have the people of Meldinar left in peace. To hell with the Five and their Guardians. I just want my life back—I want to live as I please.”
The Allfather studied the woman before him. Her unyielding defiance should have angered him, but instead it stirred old memories of another woman, memories he'd sought to suppress for centuries. The spirited Astarii reminded him of his own mother, Chandra. Their similarities in both appearance and temperament were uncanny. Perhaps that is what had drawn his attention in the first instance.
The Allfather had watched as the well-meaning guardian had slowly subverted the worship of the inhabitants of Meldinar. Through her steady intervention she had unintentionally interposed herself between them and him. Their prayers strengthened Elaina more than she knew. Already she had surpassed the Five in power—if she were to continue on her course she would eventually realize the source of her increased power. She had taken the first tentative steps on the path of ascension—to godhood and the Allfather’s Throne—albeit unknowingly.
Had he any indication of hostile intent, the Allfather would not hesitate to crush the life from her frail frame. Strong though she might be, her power
paled compared to the might and dominion he wielded. He was strengthened by the prayers of the faithful on a thousand worlds, and there was none in Creation to rival him, nor would he allow such to rise under his watchful eye. Such carelessness had been his father's downfall.
“If I were my father, Elaina, you would already be dead. Fortunately, I am not, and I have another fate in store for you.”
“Your father? What father?” Elaina asked. In Astarii lore the Allfather was supreme. The notion that he might have had his own parents, while logical, was difficult for her to fathom the implications of.
“You needn't worry—he is dead, and has been since before Creation was formed.” Changing tactics, the Allfather probed for answers: “Elaina, you must sense that your very nature has changed. Your power has magnified beyond your birthright. You realize that, I know, for I heard the words you spoke to Falinor before his death. You are closer to a Demigod than you are to your own kind, and yet you want to stay here, in this hovel? I find your choices difficult to fathom.”
“What is that power worth without someone to share it with?” Elaina answered. “I would trade it all to remain here with Marcus. Free of the Five, free of duty and free of the burdens that come with Guardianship. Have you never felt that way?”
“I understand more than you will ever know, Elaina,” the Allfather replied, turning to stare out the window and into the distance.
“If you understand how I feel, why are you here?” she asked. “What do you want with me?”
“I have come to grant you your desires, Elaina, but mark my words—they come at a price. For while you wish to forsake your duties and Creation, you remain a part of it. Your fate and its are linked. Try as you might, there will be no avoiding what is to come. The storm gathers and we must prepare to play our parts.”
