“Do I expect immediate acceptance? No. But more than anything, I want to apologize for not listening all those times you tried to tell me. I was wrong.”
He was too rigid. Chronicles could feel the familiar leader stance settling in. It was also apparent in his son’s challenging gaze and posture. Something would have to give.
Slowly, he sunk to his knees with bowed head. Refusing eye contact, he only hoped his son accepted his submission. With closed eyes, he waited.
The faint crunch of leaves moved closer. In total submission, the leader forced his ears to lay flat, even when he felt his sword being pulled from its sheath.
Shy, you’re not... Chronicles picked up Katherine’s thoughts, but went ignored when he felt the blade slip beneath his throat.
“Twilight is dead.” Shy forced his father’s chin up to make eye contact. “Katherine nearly was killed herself, and all you can offer is an apology?” He pressed the blade into his father’s flesh, causing a wince of pain.
“Shy!” Katherine chirped, and dived to the ground to join the two in her true form. Strawberry hair flowed around her shoulders from the abrupt shift. “Killing him won’t bring Twilight back! It wasn’t even his doing. That thing did it!”
“He’s still responsible for the actions causing you two to leave home in the first place,” Shy said with a low growl. “If not for that, Twilight might still be us.”
“And he might not! That thing has been close to our home before, Shy. You know this. It nearly had you then. What was to prevent it from taking Twilight’s life somewhere else?”
“So you’d damn Twilight in his place?” Shy’s voice quivered in anger. Frustrated, he slammed the sword to the ground. “You don’t right someone’s wrong by flicking away a life!”
In relief, Chronicles sucked in a breath and rubbed around his sore skin.
Thank you, he mouthed silently to Katherine, who merely nodded.
“Shy…” Chronicles checked his fingers for signs of blood, but they came away clean. “She’s not flicking away anyone’s life.”
He grabbed his sword to sheath before pulling himself up. With a sigh, he brushed off his clothing. His son was busy brooding, pacing back and forth in the manner that Chronicles himself had done.
I’ve made him into the likes of myself. Now how to undo it..? He tried again. “When Windchester took over the clan, I’ll admit that I was a bit resentful at first. But I never meant to take it to this extreme – not until that creature showed up. If anything, be glad it didn’t do to you what it did to me.” When Shy glanced his way, Chronicles added, “I’m only sorry I’ve taught you hate all these years. If there was any way to undo it, I would.”
With crossed arms, the albino eyed his father in the expectant manner of fulfillment. It was still a challenging pose, but one that his father could accept, one that read, “So you’ve said your sorries, now live up to your word.”
A quick thought exchange with Katherine revealed her approval.
Chronicles waited, anxious for his son’s final verdict.
“Let’s start with helping Lexington,” Shy said. “Then we’ll go from there.”
*****
Chanté listened intently to his brother’s talk of the mage Jenario. He was surprised to learn that while it was Jenario who had offered the Black Wing a chance to look for his mother in the human realms, he was merely seeking a tool to spy on the Lo-asn’rel kind.
He puffed out his feathers in disgust. Everest also showed disapproval. With no facial feathers, her smooth skin crinkled upon her brow like that of a dark-skinned human. Only by a series of tattoo-like markings along her cheeks and under the eyes was she identifiable as a once proud ‘Keyarx.
She said something to Corrigan, who merely grunted before replying in a deep, throated growl. The Black Wing tongue, as the young harpy quickly noticed, was not something typically heard or even imitated by any other Wing. For him to witness the two interacting in their own native language was a treat, though he had no idea how to interpret the various throaty sounds. Even afterwards, their speech still retained some of the accent.
“All jenario did was use people to get what he wanted,” Chanté said. “Shame he had to turn everyone against each other.”
Corrigan sneered. “He got what he deserved. Absolute power did little to spare him.”
“So maybe now things can return to normal?” Chanté sounded hopeful.
“Ha!” Corrigan stretched out a wing to preen. “What’s more normal about it? Just work to clean up after what he did.”
Everest let her wings stretch in a mesmerizing, gold-knobbed display. They had let their discussions run late into the evening. Now, with the sun gone for the day, her knobs caught the glow of lamplight coming from the mansion.
“I’m sure once things settle can we begin to enjoy a lasting peace.” A heavy accent coated Everest’s words. “As for you, Chanté,” she drew a comforting wing around the young harpy to draw him closer, “I am sorry to hear about Rusha. It will be difficult to take his place, but know that I am here for you now.”
Her feathery embrace was comforting to Chanté, though something still troubled him. Having never known his own mother, he was curious if Everest somehow fit the vacant slot.
“Am I your son too? Or just Corrigan’s half-brother?”
A light chuckle as she folded her wings in a fade. “So I see Rusha kept more than one secret.”
Chanté sighed in relief. “Then it’s good to know I still have family. But there’s one secret I no longer want hidden.” He turned to his brother. “Father kept your family heritage from the others, and that’s what caused you to leave. If he had only told them the truth.”
“That would only have stirred things up even more,” Corrigan said in a solemn tone. “A scandal in the family is not something the clan will tolerate.”
Chanté, however, puffed out his chest feathers in defense. “They will accept you as a part of the family because you are a hero in this war. You helped stop Chronicles from using our people, and you stalled the war long enough for our true enemy to show itself. What’s not to consider about that...brother?”
A rumbling coo started up from Corrigan’s throat, equivalent to a purr. Content in his brother’s words, the Black Wing gave his younger sibling a teasing grin.
“I’ll have your head if you’re wrong.”
CHAPTER 7
It was raining. All around, tents lined Lexington’s grounds for people to gather out of the wet weather. It seemed fitting, for the mood of those present were set to mourn. Thus, the sky mourned with them.
These were the survivors, a handful of men, women and children who could bare a return in honor of fallen family members. Among them stood Healers and ‘Keyarx. It had taken quite a bit of work from the chaplain to convince his nervous assembly that they were only here to help. Sent from Luxor, as Lexington’s chapels had claimed all those who scrambled inside for coverage, he was at last able to gather everyone around to witness the massive graveside service.
Wisdom, taking up a spot in the back with hands folded together in front of him, stood quietly with head bowed, reflecting. He could smell the freshly dug dirt raked smooth over the burial. In lieu of flowers, most people preferred a marker on their new outer city wall to remember the tragedy.
So many lives had been lost. The entire field would have been covered had everyone their own tombstone. Instead, guards, commoners and thieves alike were buried together. No one person held special attention, for there was no money to give it – not anymore.
This was where the Realm of Trully answered the peoples’ needs. As Wisdom listened to the sermon, his mind wandered back home. The realm had a multitude of undeveloped land to offer. While farming took up the realm’s perimeters, the way into town and along the waterfront held suitable locations still in need of work. Thus far, the prince had only focused on updating the small town. However, survivors were arriving on a daily basis. Already, construction on hous
ing had begun with the help of the Schevolsky family’s carpentry skills.
Yet they were not alone. With new work came jobs, and the jobs brought in business for all shopkeepers. Animals were needed to haul lumber. This kept the smithy and lumberyard constantly thriving. The demand for food kept fishermen busy at their trade, and farmers supplied fresh vegetables from their overflowing fields – a courtesy from the prince before leaving for Lexington.
The touch of Glory’s hand on his arm brought his thoughts back to the present. Keeping his voice a whisper, he leaned close.
“I’m surprised you wanted to come with me,” he said. “It’s not too soon for you, is it? Having experienced...” He cut himself off, reluctant to bring back memories since she had witnessed her father’s death.
Roland had not been buried with the masses. Instead, Glory’s mother insisted he remain at Central Valley Clan. An engraved tombstone, polished to a reflective sheen, marked his final resting place in the gardens.
Wisdom felt her body fidget in a sigh.
“Lexington has always been my home,” she whispered in between the chaplain’s speech. “I remember when my father was still building the city. I would often hide down unfinished alleys to see if he could find me.”
“Did he?”
“He knew the layout well.” She flashed him a warm smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
As the service drew to a close, Wisdom checked the sky. Rain lessened by the minute until it had nearly stopped by the time people left the tents. A few greetings passed around in soft-spoken tones, as though afraid their voices might disturb the deceased.
There were several the prince knew among the gathered and was overjoyed to spot Lancheshire in the mix. Alone, the lanky thief had just stepped out from under a side flap when he caught sight of the prince. Instant recognition brought a wide grin, and his knee-high, black boots slapped at puddles of standing water in a rush to meet him.
“Mindful of the lady, Lanc.” Wisdom chuckled, receiving a back-slapping hug.
“Ain’t known if ye survived, or what!” Lancheshire released his friend to take a good look at Glory. “She yers, eh?” At a nod, he took her hand in a sweeping bow and kissed it. “Charmed.”
Wisdom glanced around the area, but did not see any other guild members.
“Just you? What of the rest?”
The thief’s smile faded.
“The guild?” Concern edged its way into the prince’s voice.
Lancheshire just shook his head. “Saved what we could.” He slightly bowed his head. “Blackavar...er...’ee didn’t make it.”
Wisdom held his breath, his gaze losing focus while memories flashed before him of the Master Thief. His expression must have been one of deep sadness, as it drew Glory closer for comfort. With bowed head, Wisdom closed his eyes at the loss of a temporary father figure during his younger years.
“The two of you were close, weren’t you?” Glory asked softly.
“He was there for me when no one else was.” Wisdom blinked several times to hold in his emotions. “So much for being Master Mage.” He looked up at Lancheshire. “I couldn’t even be here to help. I’m not like Medallion.”
“Aye. Heard of ‘im. Was grand, they say.” The thief scratched under his chin a moment in thought. “But...ye couldn’t have known for sure. Ye’ve a lady now. Family’s a priority. Ol’ Blackavar went in to save his own when we aint...” His voice trailed off, slightly quivering at his own fond memories.
“Where are the others?”
“Oh, around!” Lancheshire’s smile soon returned. “We’ll be needing a new home now, and I doubt new construction will consider another underground Thieves’ Guild.” A wink.
“Perhaps I can assist,” a new voice entered the group, and the three looked over to see a chestnut haired Lo-ans’rel striding their way.
“Good to see you again, Windchester,” Wisdom greeted his grandfather. “May I present the Lady Elite and Lancheshire.”
“A pleasure to you both.” The Healer dipped his head to them. “Did I hear something about ‘underground’?”
“Yer ears ain’t lyin’,” Lanceshire said.
“Then perhaps I can offer a location soon to be vacant.”
“You’re leaving the tunnels?” Wisdom inquired.
“Your father has opened Crystal Valley to all. Half-breed or no.”
“Well, that’s wonderful news!” Glory squeezed her fiance’s arm. “Your entire family will be together now.”
“So it seems,” Wisdom said. “Chronicles must truly regret what he’s done to act this quickly.”
His grandfather nodded. “Indeed. We look forward to the change.” Then, to Lancheshire, “I’m sure your people will make use of the underground falls. It’s unlike anything you would have had under a city.”
“Ye’ve runnin’ water?” Thrilled, Lancheshire could barely keep himself composed. “Wait ‘til the others hear this!”
“Complete with its own forest,” Wisdom added. “Everything you need will be right there.”
“And it’s within range of the city,” Windchester said.
“Ain’t being picky at this point. We’ll take what we can get!” Lancheshire gave the prince a friendly smack on the back. “Oh, and uh...don’t ye worry ‘bout the Master Mage thing. Ye’re family no matta’ what!”
Their conversations carried on into late evening. Wisdom was glad his father had turned things around for the better. Having pure and half-breeds together was how Windchester had begun his leadership, and was overjoyed to see the clan reunited. The thieves had a new guild and new future to look forward to, which Lancheshire promised to lead in Blackavar’s stead. The updates on the city’s progress was also good news, as Wisdom’s people had offered their magical talents to help with the construction and lessen wait time for its occupants.
“Pardon, friends.” A brief interruption from the chaplain stalled their conversation. “May I see you a moment, please?” Motioning to the prince, he was acknowledged with a nod before being followed to the nearest tent. “Lord Gracie said you’d be here.”
Wisdom chuckled. “He doesn’t usually miss much. How’s he been?”
“Business as usual. But he did send this.” The chaplain pulled out a small box from a pouch and handed it to him.
A flip of the latch unlocked the top, and when the prince opened the lid his eyes danced in delight. A perfectly round pearl nestled along a set of tiny diamonds. The purest white, it rivaled his own pallid curls.
“It was created from someone you know, apparently,” the chaplain continued, “but Lord Gracie saw that it came with me in case we met.”
A slither of parchment slightly protruded from under the velvet cushion. After pulling it out, Wisdom grinned when he recognized his grandfather’s handwriting.
“Providence...” He returned the paper and closed the lid. “This will be helpful.”
The chaplain nodded toward his fiancée still conversing with the others. “For your engagement, no doubt.”
After thanking him, Wisdom returned to the group to say his farewells.
“I’ll drop by sometime after everyone’s settled in the new guild.”
“Holdin’ ye to it!” Lancheshire said before leaving alongside Windchester, still discussing details for the location.
“Was everything all right?” Glory asked once the two were alone among those still mingling in their own groups.
“Lord Gracie sends his blessings.”
“And that had to be told in secret?” Glory eyed him with a slight smirk.
“And...that if we don’t hurry over to your mother’s place, she’ll begin to wonder if we’ve forgotten about our respect to your father’s site.”
“I supposed we should keep our word, shouldn’t we?” Glory took his arm as they started toward Central Valley Clan.
The week’s visit flew by before the two found themselves back home in Trully. With Lady Pena’s affairs in order and money in place
to cover Lexington’s rebuilding costs, Wisdom and his fiancée were able to relax for a short period.
The downtime was quite suitable to fix up Glory’s ring, and he had just finished when a knock rapped at his bedroom door. Judging by the footfalls, he knew it was Ashpin and answered, “Come in.”
The boy pushed the door open enough to poke his head around. When he saw the ring held between the prince’s fingers, he quickly came in and shut it behind him.
“You finished it!”
“Think she’ll like it?”
“Trick question?” A chuckle. “She’ll love it!”
The prince turned the ring so it shimmered in the light coming from his opened balcony doors. He recalled the moment he had first met Glory at Luxor and had acquired the ring by chance when it had slipped from her finger.
“Yes, her mother insisted I do things the traditional way – by human standards.”
“So Healers don’t propose?” Ashpin teased.
“Ha! That part tends to be more simpler.” Wisdom tucked the ring back in its velvety box. Arranged alongside it was his mother’s pearl necklace. The two together made for a perfect engagement gift. He closed the lid.
Standing in a stretch, the prince slid his chair up to the desk. “When we find someone we care deeply about, we just stay together. No proposal needed. Simple, right?”
Ashpin looked skeptical as he followed Wisdom out to the balcony. Below, a few servants tended to their chores. “I’m assuming there’s some status involved, because how would you know the one you cared for hasn’t been claimed by another?”
Wisdom just laughed. “I suppose there can be some competition. Keep in mind, I was only with them three years. That isn’t nearly enough time to understand how complex our ways can be, not to mention our role in the balance of Nature.” His gaze trailed off in the distance. “I’ve only just begun to figure out that part.”
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