by Jake Adler
With the tension finally broken between them, they arrived at the city’s palace. Its walls were white and atop it stood a plethora of silver turrets that sparkled brightly in the noon day sun. They had little time to admire its splendor though as Vimaltan swiftly led them towards the main hall. A middle aged woman stood inside it near to one of its main side windows. Her long chestnut brown hair fell forwards as she bent forwards to smell the petals of a yellow rose that bloomed inside an enormous golden pot.
“Lady Cillina, may I present Ellaminva and Vank.” Vimaltan bowed deeply.
She turned then smiled at them faintly, “May I offer you both a warm welcome. I have heard from Vimaltan why you are here.” Her grey eyes glittered with intelligence as she studied Ellaminva’s face closely, “I know of the kidnappers of which you speak. They were Orcs.”
Ellaminva’s face flushed with embarrassment, “I’m sorry Lady Cillina. I have already apologised to Vimaltan about that,” she blinked, “what do you mean that you already know of them?”
Lady Cillina gestured them towards a large oak table and set of chairs, “My people intercepted them three days ago. They foolishly entered our forests thinking that they could use it to cover their tracks. We found stolen loot from their bodies that was emblazoned with the insignia of Fort Mavak.”
“What of the High Dragon?” Ellaminva asked with her voice tightening.
Lady Cillina visibly winced at the question. After a short pause she brought forth a small obsidian carving. Ellaminva frowned as she was handed the item. It looked to be carved out of rock but possessed such a fine level of detail that was unnerving. A small whine emanated from the back of Vank’s throat and it was then that Ellaminva realised what she was holding. The item was not a carving but the High Dragon himself.
Lady Cillina studied their faces wordlessly for a moment, “I see that you realise what has happened.” She stood up from her chair and moved towards one of the golden flower pots festooned around the room. Her fingers reached instinctively towards one of her beloved blooms then halted.
She turned around to face Ellaminva as hot tears now splashed across her cheeks, “Know this daughter of the Elven. My people have been ostracised by your kind for far too long. We have been denied attendance at the Grand Council of the Tuatha Dé Dannan because your people deem us to be impure half-breeds. I will attend the Grand Council. I will lead our attempts to reverse the spell that has entombed the High Dragon and I will not rest until the heritage and status of my people are acknowledged.”
Ellaminva felt a deep sense of shame. For as long as she could remember, she had been told that the Hesparind were a solitary and primitive people. Everything that she had seen for herself had shown this to be untrue. Their city was thriving and vibrant and she had seen both humans and Dwarves amongst the populace. She had not come across any Elves during her time within the city, which was not surprising given the mass prejudice and ignorance of her own people.
Ellaminva shook her head ruefully, “My people are fools. All my life I have been told falsehoods. Having seen the truth, the friendliness and open nature of your people, I realise that my people know nothing. I will travel with you to the Grand Council meeting and I will speak in favor of your people receiving the recognition and status that they deserve.”
Lady Cillina raised her eyebrows in surprise at the unabridged apology offered by Ellaminva. She wiped her face upon one of her crisp white embroidered sleeves, “Thank you my child,” she sniffed and blinked back her tears, “I must apologise also as I do tend to get a bit emotional sometimes.” She suddenly chuckled, “I am quite passionate about two things. The first is the welfare of my people and the second is yellow roses.”
Within a more relaxed and friendly atmosphere they began to make their plans to attend the Grand Council of the Tuatha DéDannan. Due to the city’s extensive trading and commercial networks it would only take a couple of days to arrange for two Dragons to carry Vimaltan and Lady Cillina to accompany Ellaminva and Vank. They would arrive first at Lolivam to announce their arrival and to give the rest of the rest of the Fae time to arrange an exact time and location for the Grand Council meeting. After several hours of discussion their plans were set and Ellaminva and Vank slowly headed back towards the Cat and Slipper where they would spend the next couple of nights.
Vimaltan offered to walk back with them, “What’s it like in your Elven lands?” he asked her suddenly as they slowly walked in the fading sunlight.
“It’s quite nice I suppose,” she responded in confusion, “but I am rapidly coming to realise that we need to get out more.” She chuckled softly in memory of her earlier transgressions and Vimaltan grinned in response.
“You are quite – interesting.” His eyes flashed towards her.
“I’m spoken for,” she heard herself reply gruffly.
She saw him stiffen in response and realised that although she was attracted to him that she was already fiercely loyal towards Axcil. As the evening drew in, a cold chill filled the air and she bid goodnight to Vimaltan as she swiftly made her way back to her room. Her heart thudded inside her chest as she lay wide awake upon her bed. Several hours passed as she shifted uncomfortably as she worried desperately about whether or not Axcil had even survived the battle of Takrak. Just before dawn, as sleep finally took hold, her last thoughts drifted towards the hurt that she had seen in the piercing blue eyes of Vimaltan.
Chapter 19
The companions were already gathered at the bottom of the stairwell when Ethan arrived to meet them. Talina stood before him clad in a blue silken blouse, black leather trousers and matching high boots. Her long dark hair was tied back tightly into a pony tail and she possessed just a hint of rouge upon her full lips. Her beauty was unmistakable. Ethan could feel his face flush brightly as he descended the stairs as his eyes instinctively followed the soft curve of her hips that were clearly visible beneath her close fitting outfit.
“Good,” Master Bedwyr stated approvingly, “did you sleep well?”
Ethan nodded silently.
“Talina has been busy preparing her travel bags. She is bringing along gemstones that you can sell to obtain your necessary travel funds.”
“That’s good,” he responded without emotion. Ethan glanced quickly at Talina to find her studying his face closely with an expression of curiosity.
Master Bedwyr handed him a rolled up parchment, “Here you will find two incantations. The first provides you with the means to travel between our worlds. The second enables you to communicate directly with either myself or Cara. I know that you promised that you would not return until you have closed off the second seal, but I must ask you not to use the second incantation at all. It might place us in great danger as we must travel incognito for a while.”
Ethan frowned, “If I can’t use it then why give it to me?”
The Grand Mage smiled wryly, “Fate will decide if you ever need to use it.”
Ethan squinted at the parchment to find the familiar words of Latin inked boldly upon it. After a short pause he whispered, “Please take care of Cara.”
The Grand Mage’s eyes glistened, “I will do everything in my power.”
“See you soon.” Cara choked as she suddenly appeared beside him. He turned and hugged her tightly, nestling his face deeply into her soft blonde hair that smelled faintly of flowers. She quickly gained her composure and pulled herself away, nodding towards Master Bedwyr.
Ethan smiled faintly as he approached Talina to stand next to her for the transportation spell. She was surrounded by a mountain of travel bags. He would have to ask his mother for help regarding their storage upon their arrival. Behind them on the base of the stairwell sat an enormous golden framed mirror with four Dragon heads intricately carved at equal points around its circumference.
“I suppose this is where we part company for a time.” Ethan announced quietly as both he and Talina turned to face the mirror.
“Silence,” Master Bedwyr commanded.
“Be still.”
The Grand Mage had begun his incantations which included within it a translation spell for Talina. He felt Talina clasp hold of his hand as images of the room spun room around them. The only constant object was the mirror, which seemed to be expanding in size but the image Ethan saw was not of his own bedroom but of a cobbled street. His vision momentarily cleared to reveal a road sign written in French and he heard Talina cry out in fear as darkness took them.
* * * *
Hot sand burned GraJin’s skin as he lost his footing and tumbled down an enormous sand dune. He had realised immediately upon his arrival in the strange new world that something had gone terribly wrong. Instead of appearing close to the memory of the faint magical trail left by the human he had arrived in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. The heat of the midday sun beat hard upon his body and his clothes soon became soaked with sweat. His eyes scanned the horizon to find no signs or life or civilization except the hazy outline of three distant peaks. With nothing else to follow, he stumbled towards them.
After several hours his breathing became laboured and he rolled his swollen tongue around his dry lips to find them cracked and bleeding. He needed to find water else he would quickly perish. Time passed and the sun continued to blaze ferociously down upon him. His anger turned to desperation as he realised that his human body was dying. He stumbled again and this time fell head first into the hot sands. With all the strength he could muster, he lifted his head and gasped for air. It was then that he noticed the approach of a distant creature. It was still some distance away, but he kept his gaze fixed upon it.
After what seemed to be an eternity of waiting, its image sharpened and he realised that the beast was being ridden by a human. The man was entirely covered by white cloth. Nothing could be discerned about him except his dark brown eyes that glistened with intelligence. Without speaking, the man yanked sharply upon the reins of the beast, causing it to grumble in protest as it settled its enormous yellow body down upon the hot sands. The man then dismounted and approached GraJin cautiously, holding forth a bag of water that was made out of animal skin.
GraJin was surprised to find that his arms no longer worked. Seeing him struggle to move the man knelt down and cupped hold of his chin to trickle some of its life-giving waters into his mouth. The human was useful. It was for this reason alone that GraJin decided to let him live.
Chapter 20
The feeling of cold stone pressing upon Ethan’s face forced him to awaken. He found himself lying upon a darkened cobbled street as icy rain fell upon his body. Moonlight flitted through the black clouds above to reveal the faint silhouette of the buildings that surrounded him. As his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, he saw the motionless form of a girl. She lay upon her side, her long dark hair plastered across her face in a wet, tangled mess.
He scrambled to his feet and ran towards her, “Are you alright?” he whispered hoarsely as he knelt down to clear the hair from her face. He immediately recognised that it was Talina and noticed that an ugly bruise had formed upon her left temple.
His eyes desperately scanned the area and picked out the faint beam of a light. It was little more than a feeble glimmer that peeked out from the window of a building further down the street. Wordlessly, he lifted up her semi-conscious body and held her close. She mumbled incoherently as she rested her head upon his chest. Ethan forced his numbed body towards the building. Shifting his hold upon her to free one of his hands, he thudded forcefully upon the door with the hilt of his palm. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the curtains twitch and he intensified his action.
“What do you want?” A timid voice asked from behind the door.
He leaned in towards the cold metal of the pitch black door, “We need your help, my friend is injured,” his mind raced. He feared that he would sound deranged if he explained what had really happened to them. “We have been attacked by robbers and she’s hurt her head.”
Again, the curtains twitched but this time the beam of light remained enlarged as a second person from inside the building took a longer look at the two bedraggled companions. Fortunately, Talina’s face was closest to the window and the light shone upon her injured forehead. Voices could now be heard inside arguing, laced with angry whispers and grunts of disapproval.
After a short pause the sound of rattling chains and sliding metal bolts could be heard and the face of an elderly woman stared out cautiously from behind the door, while retaining a final chain of metal between herself and her visitors.
She must have seen the look of utter desperation on his face as within moments the door was wide open, “The poor lamb,” she cried as she quickly motioned him to bring the girl inside.
An elderly man appeared behind the old woman, “Take her to the room at the top of the stairs,” he nodded curtly at him. Ethan did as he was bid as the old woman followed closely behind, clearly anxious to attend to the needs of the girl. As soon as Ethan had laid the Talina upon the bed, the old woman quickly shooed him away.
He headed back down the stairs and was met by the old man, “I will get you some dry clothes,” he motioned Ethan into the living room and pointed towards an armchair located closest to the hearth, “warm yourself, lad.”
“Thank you,” replied Ethan as he slumped into the armchair.
“Did they take everything?” The old man asked as he swiftly returned with an armful of dry clothes.
Ethan shook his head, “Our luggage is still outside.”
“Change into something dry. I will fetch them.” The old man disappeared and within moments had returned with the items. Ethan blinked in surprise, wondering how he had managed to find anything so quickly in the dark.
“I used a flashlight,” the man said, sensing his thoughts, “My name’s Anatole by the way and my wife’s name is Marguerite.”
“Ethan,” he replied, realising for the first time that he must now be able to communicate in French due to the powers of the teleportation spell.
Anatole handed him the items and the jingle of jewellery could be clearly heard from one of the bags, “It is strange that they did not take your possessions,” he remarked with narrowed eyes.
Ethan avoided his gaze, “Where exactly am I?”
“You’re about five miles South East of the city centre.” Anatole replied.
Ethan nervously cleared his throat, “Which city?” he deliberately avoided asking the question about which country.
Anatole remained silent and calmly sat down opposite him, “I have seen many things in my long life my boy, so why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?”
Soft footsteps could be heard descending the stairs, “She’s fast asleep, bless her,” Marguerite smiled.
“Sit down my dear. This young man has something he wants to tell us.”
Marguerite knew by the tone of her husband’s voice that something serious had happened. She quietly pulled up a chair to join them as her fingers picked nervously at the hem of her skirt.
“No lies.” Anatole warned him.
Ethan swallowed hard and nodded, “This may be difficult for you to hear, but please believe me when I say that everything I am about to tell you is the absolute truth.”
* * * *
Gizurr Eklund grinned as he reached out to accept another tankard of Dwarven ale from his best friend Ragni Adolvsson. Several days had passed since their victory in saving the Dwarven city of Takrak from the enemy invaders and they were still busy celebrating. The city’s soldiers had already removed the dead bodies of enemy and burned them in a mass grave, but the smoke from the old fires still managed to find its way back towards the city.
Ragni caught the faint odour of burning flesh, “Stinking Orcs,” he said as he rubbed his nose with his sleeve before realising that the smell was coming from his own dirty clothing.
Gizurr grunted and took another gulp of ale, “Where’s the human?” he squinted around the noisy room looking for Jetzan.
“He left several
hours ago!” Ragni chuckled as he sat down hard upon the bench. They had been drinking at the Goose and Gander Inn for most of the day and their minds were now dulled by the ale.
“So what’s next our next move?” Ragni asked as he stared forlornly into his own nearly empty tankard.
“I say that we follow the human. We have more filth to kill no doubt.”
“Aye,” Ragni nodded in agreement.
They clashed their tankards together and began to sing. The music reached a crescendo as a young Dwarf clambered on top of a table to dance, only to swiftly lose his balance and fall to the ground in a dishevelled heap to the great merriment of the crowd. Thoughts of the morrow were quickly forgotten as the ale and song flowed.
Suddenly the door to the inn flew open as a Dwarven soldier entered and quickly scanned the room. His gaze rested upon Gizurr and within moments he had approached the wiry haired old Dwarf and swiftly deposited a document, sealed with the insignia of Jarl Egill into his open palm.
Gizurr grunted in thanks tore it open, “It’s from the Jarl,” he paused as he squinted at it and held the document out at arm’s length, “We are to accompany Axcil and Jetzan tomorrow to a grand chamber of the Tuatha Dé Dannan.”
“And so it begins,” Ragni said with narrowed eyes.
* * * *
The waters of Lake Diabhal shone deep crimson as the dragons swooped down to land upon its shores. Lightening streaked across the Eastern skyline as rolls of deep thunder threatened the impending storm. Shadows flitted across the damp, mossy earth as the forest around the lake began to writhe against the strong winds. The strained sunlight finally dissipated behind the thick, angry clouds as the darkness of night rushed in.
The travellers dismounted quickly as they rushed for shelter. The storm was now almost upon them as they entered the depths of the forest. Lady Cillina had arrived for the meeting of the Tuatha Dé Dannan with Givarax, one of the most senior dragons of the Akrullin. With his jet black scales and large golden eyes he was breathtakingly handsome. His size and power was legendary and he made short work of the overhanging branches that stood in his way as he made his way towards the Fae building where the meeting would be held.
