Relic of the Gods: (Echoes of Fate Book 3)

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  Faylen couldn't help but fall back into her old ways; head down, lips sealed, and always behind Reyna, never beside her. For months she had presented herself as a strong individual, above all that she met in Illian. Though her view of humanity had changed drastically in that time, she had always felt that as an elf she was superior. After Mӧrygan had died, Faylen had taken advantage of that freedom and even enjoyed being away from the hierarchy of her kin.

  Among her king and queen again, Faylen assumed the role she had been selected for years previously; a servant. Often, Reyna would try and bring her into discussions or ask of her opinion, but Faylen never found the reply. Keeping quiet and doing her best to instruct Reyna in the ways of royalty was her purpose. For all her love for the princess, Faylen now hated her place among them. Her time in Illian had awoken something inside of her, a need for greater purpose.

  Walking back into the king’s hall, Faylen could see that her place would never be elevated. Adilandra had called for the elders, the High Guardian, and the generals under him. Despite being beside the royal family, Faylen was the lowest person in the chamber. It did bring a smile to her face, however, when she spotted Tai’garn sitting at the long table. The elder was paler than most, sitting with his severed leg on a small cushion. The work of the other elders had no doubt saved his life.

  At the other end of the hall, King Elym sat down on Rengar’s empty throne. “A throne of marble,” he said with a tone of derision. “So human…”

  The double doors shut behind Faylen and Reyna, causing them both to jump. Standing there was Adilandra, her gaze fixed on Elym across the chamber.

  “I asked King Rengar for the use of his hall,” the queen said. “He graciously said yes, but I don't think his generosity extends to his throne…”

  In the most awkward fashion for a king, Elym stood up and straightened his robes. “Why have you summoned this meeting, Adilandra?”

  Faylen was curious too. After they had left the hall for the first time, Adilandra had deliberately steered them away from Elym and his entourage, despite the king’s eagerness to speak with her. The tension between the two only served to remind Faylen of old times.

  “I have summoned you all as witnesses,” Adilndra replied. “Though, I would hear your thoughts as well.”

  “Witnesses to what?” Elym asked.

  Adilandra surveyed the room until her eyes rested on Faylen and Reyna. “A new beginning for our people. For too long we have looked inwards, caring only for ourselves. We turned to war, considering our gifts for nothing but violence.” The queen paused, locking eyes with the king. “Under my husband’s rule, we exiled ourselves from Illian, leaving the dragons and the Dragorn to the wrath of savage man. We have done nothing but train to kill and plot our revenge. Our ancestors would never have condoned such actions, especially in the name of revenge.

  Thankfully, man has found some civility in our absence, but we should have been there to guide them. Had we stayed that course, the world would look very different today. Valanis would have found little claim, his war brought to a swift end.”

  Elym approached the head of the table. “I was right. I was always right. Today, we were all given proof that the gods are nothing of the sort. Regardless of who created who, we are stronger, more enlightened. It should be us who rule this world.”

  Adilandra sighed. “Valanis believes in the gods. You do not believe in the gods. Your actions would see the same amount of blood spill across Verda.”

  “You compare me to that monster?” Elym snapped back.

  “You have made a mockery of our world, Elym.” Adilandra kept her voice level and calm. “You’ve twisted our very nature. Whether our faith be valid or not, it came with a set of morals you would have us forget. The enlightened don't lay waste to the world, they elevate it. The strong don't invade and seek genocide, they unify.”

  Tai’garn sat forward in his chair. “What are you proposing, My Lady?”

  Adilandra stepped back and took a breath. “We are all culpable in this. They were the king’s orders, but we followed them blindly. My crime is remaining silent when action was needed. I stand before you all now, pledging my voice to our people. Never again will I stand by and watch as elves throw their lives away for something as barbaric as revenge or arrogance.”

  “What are you suggesting?” Varӧ asked, glancing nervously at the king.

  “She is suggesting we bow to her,” Elym answered, “and to her alone.”

  Faylen could feel the tension between king and queen expand to that of the entire chamber. Everyone appeared to be holding their breath. Looking at Reyna, Faylen expected to see conflict, but the princess mirrored her mother’s calm demeanor. The Sevari women are stronger than most would give them credit, she thought.

  “It would be a smooth transition of power,” Adilandra explained. “Our people recognise the House of Sevari as rulers. They would -”

  “Transition of power is never smooth,” Elym interrupted. “Our people have bowed to me for too long.”

  “Too long indeed,” Adilandra quipped. “That’s why it would be better for Elandril if its king exiled himself, as he had us do so long ago.”

  Again, Adilandra’s words sucked all the air out of the room. Faylen wanted to shout out and cheer with joy. Her queen’s vision for Ayda and her people was that of their ancestors. It was the only future Faylen wanted to be a part of.

  Elym was frozen on the spot, his mouth ajar. The king met his wife’s eyes with tears welling behind them, though whether they were of despair or anger, Faylen couldn't tell.

  Tai’garn’s statement broke the silence. “I am in agreement with Queen Adilandra.”

  Elym and Varӧ swivelled their heads round at the elder. For a moment, Faylen was convinced the High Guardian was going to throttle Tai’garn. Not that he would get very far. Even with his wounded leg, the elder was still the most powerful among them.

  “Aye,” said the elder beside him.

  “Aye,” said another.

  Within seconds, every elder had chosen a side, along with the majority of generals. Only Varӧ and two generals sided with Elym, physically stepping towards him.

  “Reyna?” the king called softly.

  The princess walked across the chamber and stood beside her mother. “It’s time to return to the old ways, Father.”

  Faylen hurried over, joining the queen and princess, desperate to voice her own agreement.

  “And what of you, Lady Haldӧr?” Adilandra asked.

  Faylen hesitated, feeling everyone’s gaze. “I would know a time such as my parents’. A time before all the wars.”

  “This is preposterous!” Elym roared, slamming the table. “I am king! It is my birthright, my blood!”

  “If our people do not take to my rule, they may choose another to sit on the throne,” Adilandra replied calmly. “But it will not be you.”

  Elym yelled and swatted the cups of water from the table. “And what am I to do?”

  Adilandra remained firm. “It’s your exile. Do as you please. You are permitted anywhere but Elandril. Perhaps you should take up residence among the humans.”

  “The humans?” Elym echoed incredulously.

  “The man I fell in love with is still in there,” Adilandra replied, allowing some emotion into her tone. “Find him and see him returned to me.”

  Elym growled and hurried from the hall, a venomous glare for all but Reyna. Passing the princess, the king paused briefly. Through the crack in his anger, Faylen could see a great well of sadness. Elym had lost a lot more than just his throne…

  Adilandra held out a hand to stop Varӧ from following her husband. “The title of High Guardian is no longer yours to claim, Varӧ of House Grӧvale.”

  “What?” Varӧ spat.

  “That honour now falls to House Haldӧr.” Adilandra turned to face Faylen.

  It took Faylen longer than it should have to make sense of her queen’s words. When their meaning finally struck her, the ey
es of every elf was on her.

  “Haldӧr?” Varӧ echoed. “What does this servant know of guardianship?”

  Reyna stepped forward. “Faylen has fought in more battles than you and come face to face with the worst Valanis had to throw at us. She is a more capable warrior than you in every way.”

  Faylen was yet to find any kind of response. She straightened her shoulders and stood her ground under Varӧ’s scrutinising gaze. Had she really just been granted the title of High Guardian? Reyna met her eyes with an expression of pride. Adilandra stepped aside and let Varӧ storm out with the two generals.

  “My Lady…” Faylen didn't know what to say.

  “You’re the only one I would have,” Adilandra replied.

  “But, what of Galanӧr? I thought…”

  “Galanӧr has only just discovered a life without a leash. He needs time to find his place in the world. Now, shall we attend the next secret meeting of the day?”

  The queen led the way through the palace corridors, the elders and generals in tow. Her new title as High Guardian refused to sink in, but Faylen kept close to Adilandra’s side.

  A raucous from around the corner slowed their party down. A group of Velian soldiers strode through what had once been a clean hall, before the king opened his home up to the wounded and homeless. The soldiers halted mid-stride when they noticed who was crossing them, but Queen Adilandra gestured for them to continue, as their errand appeared urgent. Faylen watched them walk away only to find her eyes fixed on the man between them all. Being dragged by his arms, leaving his broken and battered legs to trail behind him, King Tion of Namdhor had barely enough energy to glance at the elves.

  Faylen had only met the king once, during the banquet on their first visit to Velia, but the man’s strong features were hard to miss, even if he did look to have lost a fight with a troll. Before they turned the next corridor, her elven ears picked up the sneer of one of the Velian guards.

  “Our king will execute you on the spot like the rabid dog you are…”

  Something didn't feel right about killing the king of the north, despite his allegiance to Valanis. Faylen couldn't put her finger on it and decided to leave the business of men’s kings to men. Merkaris Tion was responsible for the deaths of more Velians than she could count; his execution was inevitable.

  The garden was quiet, serene by comparison to the rest of Velia. The sun had finally set on what would surely be known as the bloodiest day in Illian history. The stars sparkled above and the moon offered its calming glow, neither caring for the carnage that had taken place below. Beyond the railing, small fires could be seen in the fields, shedding light on the stack of Darkakin and Namdhorian bodies. Beside them, the fallen king of old lay embedded in the ground, an eyesore on what had once been a beautiful vista of architecture.

  The elders raised their hands and expelled several orbs of soft light, bringing the gardens to life and revealing Asher and the rangers, resting by the rail with Nathaniel and Tauren. Faylen couldn't look at anything but Asher. The ranger, as always, carried a quiet confidence about him, but tonight, his injuries were more apparent. A dark, red cloak draped over his back - a Velian cloak - to match the cloth that concealed his eyes, or what was left of them. It broke Faylen’s heart to see him so. The elf wanted nothing more than to take him away, force rest upon the ranger, and heal him of everything. Asher wouldn't have that and she knew it.

  Despite his lack of eyes, Faylen could tell he was looking at her. There was something undeniable between them, but they both had tasks ahead of them that needed to come first. For just a moment, however, Faylen saw a future where she served Adilandra as the High Guardian and Asher lived with her in Ayda, a place where he might finally know peace. That was the happiest thought she had dreamt up in a long time.

  “Where is Gideon?” Adilandra asked.

  Galanӧr stepped out from behind a tree. “He should be here soon. He said he had to go to Korkanath…”

  Adilandra raised her eyebrow. “A Dragorn’s prerogative…”

  “There he is!” Reyna looked up at the starry sky. Faylen would never tire of the way the princess looked at the world and its wonders.

  It felt odd to know the dragon by name, as only a few had been recorded throughout history, but Faylen looked up now to see Ilargo gliding down before his magnificent wings flapped hard, bringing them to a stop over the gardens. As a smaller dragon, Ilargo fit nicely among the trees and hedges, though he did appear somewhat out of place. Gideon slid down and approached under the glow of an orb. There was no doubt that he was human, but Faylen could sense the magic that flowed through the Dragorn. It gave the young man an extraordinarily regal presence.

  “Sorry I’m late,” he offered. “Did I miss anything?”

  Faylen felt the urge to fill them all in on the massive shift in power that had just taken place, not just for their queen, but also for herself. Still, it was elven business and this meeting was one that concerned the entire realm.

  “No,” Adilandra replied. “You’re right on time.”

  “Great…”

  It was clear to see that Gideon wasn't entirely comfortable in his pivotal role. Faylen had to remember that he was a fraction of her age, if not the youngest person in the garden. Since his unorthodox departure from Korkanath, however, the young Dragorn had taken on the weight of the world.

  Gideon continued, “So we’re all in agreement that The Veil is our priority?”

  “Valanis is a product of the first king and his lot,” Reyna answered. “We must weed out the root if we are to ever know peace.”

  “That sounds easy enough,” Hadavad said, “but if Valanis has taken refuge in Kaliban, we will have to face him.”

  “I can take care of Valanis,” Asher announced.

  “With the gem?” Faylen asked skeptically. “You don't yet look recovered from using it against Alidyr.”

  Asher faced her for a moment. “I can handle it.”

  “Tell them,” Nathaniel said sternly.

  Asher sighed. “I just need to get to the pools.”

  “You wish to enter the pools of Naius?” Adilandra asked alarmed.

  “The power in those pools combined with Paldora’s gem will be more than enough to challenge him.”

  Faylen shook her head. “You will need to do more than simply challenge him. We don't need a distraction at the cost of your life, Asher. If you can't use the gem to kill him, you shouldn't even try.”

  “The pools of Naius drove Valanis mad,” Adilandra explained. “Even if you succeed in killing him, there may be lasting damage.”

  “That’s what the gem’s for,” Asher countered. “I can use it to draw power from the pools.”

  They couldn't argue with that, as much as Faylen would have liked to. Valanis had been hunting it down for over a thousand years to gain control over the magic of the pools.

  “I'm sorry,” Gideon interjected, “but whether Asher succeeds or not, the distraction will be needed. If I can use a destructive spell on The Veil while it’s inside the pools, there’s a chance it could destroy everything along with it. Valanis will have nowhere left to hide. His own power will eventually consume him.”

  “By which time Asher will already be dead,” Nathaniel argued.

  “Thousands have already died in this war,” Gideon replied solemnly, “Atilan has made certain of that. If we don't bring an end to their meddling now, who knows how many Valanises there will be? We have a weapon that can kill him, and I truly hope you do, Asher, but at the very least he can be kept at bay while we destroy The Veil.”

  Faylen could feel her hope fading away. It seemed impossible to argue with the Dragorn’s logic, a wisdom that should have been beyond a man of his years.

  Galanӧr stepped into the light. “I think more credit is owed to the ranger. He has already used the gem without any helping hand from the pools. He has earned the right to at least try.”

  Asher nodded his appreciation at the elf. “I can do it.”


  Doran leaned on the end of his sword. “I’d swallow that’ gem if I were ye, laddy. Ye don't want to be losin’ it, me thinks!”

  “None of this really matters if we can't find Kaliban,” Hadavad pointed out.

  Adilandra looked to Gideon. “Do any of the dragons know of its whereabouts?”

  “No,” Gideon replied with the shake of his head.

  “Not even a general area?” Nathaniel asked.

  “They know he built it high up,” Gideon replied. “Somewhere in the west of Vengora.”

  “The western edge of Vengora is hundreds of miles long,” Nathaniel said.

  Doran wagged his stubby finger in the air. “Not to mention crawling with Gobbers and other fiends.”

  “We should start our expedition immediately then,” Hadavad suggested.

  The group fell into further discussion about the various ways of searching the slumbering mountains. Faylen barely took any of it in. Their words were just sound in her ears, as her mind worked to pull at the memories crawling their way up. This particular conversation gnawed at her, distracting the elf. What was it? What was so important that she…

  Faylen gasped.

  The entire group turned to look at her, but the elf was already sprinting back into the palace. Calls of her name soon faded and Faylen found herself jumping over people sat in the corridors and weaving between Velian soldiers.

  Where is he?

  Faylen followed the freshest trail of blood until she finally came across the same knights who were dragging Merkaris Tion. The king’s legs were truly ruined and actively bleeding, but he didn't seem to notice. Hanging in the arms of the Velians, Merkaris was limp, leaving Faylen to fear the worst.

  “Is he still alive?” The elf rushed up to meet them, halting them moments before they could enter the grand hall.

  “What’s it to you?” one of the soldiers asked.

  The Velian beside him threw his hand into the man’s chest, his eyes fixed on Faylen’s ears. The rude soldier stood a little straighter and apologised.

  “Is he still alive?” Faylen asked, her tone more frantic this time.