The Legacy of Tirlannon: The Freedom Fighter

by Daniel Gelinske

  In a floor less than ten levels above the office of Osiris, Isis Meilana sat behind her desk, touching an apparatus with lights that appeared under her fingers as she touched them. She appeared attentive and sober, focused and intent.

  "Hail hail, Isis Meilana, governor of Kith! We bring you news from near and far! The Prime Minister has been assassin..." a messenger drone shouted.

  Meilana's face turned ghost white as she looked up. Her eyes widened as she gasped. The drones paused their report in response.

  "Query! Who did it?" she asked, gasping for breath.

  "Unknown, milady. Madrocean autonomists are suspected,” the drone replied.

  "Lies!" She leaped out of her chair, and stormed past the two messenger drones.

  Deep underground, in a catacomb deep below the city of Kith, Da'at Set and a swarm of seventy-one drones marched in a shadowy procession. The glow orbs at the ceiling of the macabre iron and cement hallway were dimmed, and the cloaked Laboratory drones kept the directions fore and aft guarded as Da'at Set and a captain of the Laboratory Guard carried the casket containing the late Pharaoh Chancellor, or Osiris of Cireth.

  Set stumbled as a whistle from his collar broke his stride. He dropped his end of the casket. The Captain barked an order for the drones to halt.

  "What is it now? I'm occupied!" he said into a device used for relaying voices over long distances.

  A small muffled voice came from the device.

  "What?" he snapped. "Isis knows? Gods damn it!"

  He pulled the collar off, and stuffed it into his cloak.

  "We need to take the body into the chamber west of here. This body cannot be retrieved for regeneration," Set ordered.

  He hoisted his side of the casket up, and they marched, drones and master into a large chamber with an iron grating for a floor. The stench of rust and blood was thick, and the grating stained with caked, dried blood. He threw the casket onto the floor.

  The winged Inzerakh walked into the room from an adjacent hallway. Coolly, he said, "I assume my service is required now, Lord Set."

  "At once. Loan me your phaseblade," Set ordered.

  Inzerakh nodded, and handed him the phaseblade by the handle. In Da'at Set's hands, the shiny blade began to emit a dull orange glow, with a blurred trail behind it as it moved. Da'at Set kicked the casket over, and the body rolled out. With one swift motion, he beheaded the corpse of the Prime Minister.

  * * *

  At the highest level of the Laboratory, in the office of the Set, the Caretaker and Keeper of the Dead, Da'at Set sat behind a table. His countenance was calm, with a vague half-smile betraying his satisfaction. At the other side of the table, facing towards him was Anubis and two messenger drones.

  "Fourteen total," Da'at Set muttered.

  "To all colonies, province, and tributaries, one a piece," Anubis replied.

  "Including Far-Kith of course. Send his... masculinity there. Should Isis find enough of him to restore him, even then he could not pleasure her, once the Gate of Ra is destroyed," Set directed.

  Anubis bowed his head towards Da'at Set and replied, "Then it shall be done."

  XXXIV.

  The Call of Xendros

  By the seventh day after the first strike, the slow and painful reoccupation of Andriel was complete. The foothold of the Taergeni was established, and the city was well-guarded. Reinforcements came from all of Tuitari and Andule to bolster security, establish a presence within the city’s own fortifications, and renovate the once-abandoned capital of Tarligean.

  The palace itself was only marginally habitable, as strewn and rotten tapestries ruined by a decade’s worth of storms, open doors and broken windows had fallen from their hangings. The carpeting had become pungent, saturated in a thick black mold with a sharply acrid aroma.

  The very first impression of the Throne of the Kestiel made upon Daecrynn was not a good one. He shook his head in disdain as he gazed upon the three tall golden spires over the hulk of a cubical throne of gold, with crimson upholstery covered in rotten mold.

  ‘I am not keeping this. I will replace it with a barstool if I must, but this cannot be my throne,’ Daecrynn thought to himself.

  Daecrynn turned, and walked alone through the long deserted halls of the capital, into the Council Chambers. Eight chairs surrounded a large oaken chamber, with a simple octogram in the center. This deep into the sheltered portions of the palace, very little damage was done. Assessing that there would be little work required for this portion of the capital to be returned to its former function, he turned around and headed toward the council table set up outside the Palace in the courtyard.

  Surrounding the table that served as the High Council of Tarligean this day was a collection of important figures from Tuitari to Mindule. Cerena Charelle was present, escorted by two knights, and three white-robed priestess of the Eloquandi rite. Nadali waited at the table, wearing the tiara of the Queen of Andule. Alrain and Cellan were also present, representing Namakiera and Tuitari, respectively. Kalrys Kretali was in the periphery, acting as captain of security as the First Knight of Andriel.

  Small talk slowly picked up amongst the table as the hoof-beats of several horses and the squeal of the rusty hinges of the Palace Quarter gate heralded the arrival of another king, queen, noble or representative. A young elf of Daecrynn’s age entered the courtyard wearing a moonsilver and gold crown. To his sides were cloaked elves in black with knife-sheaths tied to their ankles. His hair was strawberry blonde, and his blue eyes were as cold as his gaze was sharp.

  Daecrynn approached the table, masking his inward hesitation, and stood at the Atriyu rune, the seat of the Kestiel. Shortly after the other representatives of Tarligean’s realms sat at the table, Daecrynn spoke.

  “First off, since—Starwind willing—this will be the first of many meetings such as this to come, I would like each of us to introduce ourselves, whether we are known by all or not. I wish that we might become friends. I am Daecrynn Tuvitor, the son off Meldehan Tuvitor, who left this world far too soon and Rihania Tuvitor, now Tartali. She married Kethral Tartali, who was a great father to me and raised me as his own.

  “Without his guidance, I wouldn’t have been ready for this war we have all fought and suffered in, but I credit him as much—no I give him greater credit than the illustrious Kestiel who lives in memory and legend today.

  “Today. We are on a cusp of a new era of Tarligean where we are not only a solid nation of nations again, but a force to be reckoned with. We are poised not only to take back Namakiera, but we are united in a way unseen since the days of the Son of Andriel himself. An enemy as formidable and elusive as the unspeakable ones, yea the Zhil’dvani of his age exists, and our defiance must stand firm against them. Not the Madrocea of the south, for the sun will set on that war soon, to both our benefit. I speak of unspeakable enemies in Cireth to the east. The forces occupying Andriel before we returned were the silent sentinels of Cireth placed there some time ago.

  “I am willing to serve Tarligean to my end, or its end, whichever comes first. I’m hoping for the latter.”

  Daecrynn grinned in jest, raising an eyebrow. The faces of the representatives of the kingdoms were uncertain, saved for Nadali who buried her face in her palms and chuckled knowingly.

  “Oops. I meant the former, of course,” Daecrynn quipped with a wink. “But I digress.”

  A few chuckles broke amongst the audience.

  Daecrynn bowed his head, and a short period of silence was broken with the voice of the first of the representatives to speak after the Kestiel.

  “I am the Lady of the Western Wood, Cerena Charelle, Queen of Mindule. I am not going to bore you with the detail and minutiae of my existence, but I shall tell you that I am always a friend of Andriel, and shall continue to serve Tarligean as it stands, and as it will stand beyond today. As I am the crowned Queen of Mindule, I will appoint a representative to sit in my seat as my land is quite distant, beyond Rhia’li’s Pedestal,” she elab
orated, surrendering her seat to a woman in a white Eloquandi robe.

  “I am Kea Dandaya, Lady of Mindule and Mother of the Alceya monastery at the southern edge of Mindule,” the priestess said.

  “Welcome, Lady Dandaya,” Daecrynn acknowledged.

  She nodded uncertainly, stood up and returned to the crowd of nobles observing the proceedings.

  Cellan spoke next, continuing around the table in a clockwise fashion from the Kestiel and Cerena’s seat.

  “I am Cellan Ka’emnar Kaewaya, Prince of Tuitari and son of Elieme Ka’emnar Kaewaya. I served as commander of the Namakiera resistance. Most of you I know, and I know of the rest. I am a friend to all Taergeni who wish to live free. While I disagree with the Kestiel’s underplaying of the danger in Madrocea, I agree that Cireth is a threat we must be prepared to face. I am happy to be here with you all in a the free city of Andriel. Its successful liberation brings me great joy. Thank you, friends.”

  Queen Dielda of Destriel, a queen of a land abandoned years ago when Tarligean collapsed on the battlefield of Cassadina was the next to speak.

  “I am Dielda Raevarra Tartali, a sister to Kethral, which would make me something of an aunt to the Kestiel. It is an honor. Since Ariandi the Elder fell, just as my brother fled, the royal family of Destriel has been in hiding. For much of the last several years we had taken refuge in the stronghold of Ciartha Tuitari as a guest to the beloved Lord Elieme. I have not worn a crown since the day the news had reached Destriel of Ariandi’s fall. I had to have faith that my brother would protect the scion of Asutel Thetali’s line until he could claim his birthright. That day is now, Daecrynn son of Meldehan.”

  To the right of the Kestiel, Nadali observed the goose-bumps crawling up Daecrynn’s arm. She gently touched it, and smiled softly toward him. She broke the clockwise pattern around the table to speak.

  “I am Nadali, daughter to Threis and Queen of Andule. I am a survivor of the terrible day when the Madrocean Empire seized the city, my home, and burned it to the ground. I have accompanied the Kestiel Prince since, and would call him my beloved. My father was a brave man. Many said he was going the way of Alvanea, paying tribute to the Emperor to keep the city standing. I was never satisfied with his choice, but it was proven to whom his loyalties truly laid on the day the Kestiel presented Oro’quiel to him. He was willing to make a stand on that very day. We were unprepared, but he died with honor, as did the many elves that fought to defend the city as the gah’raen turned on us. I pledge my undying commitment to the High Kingdom, and to the High Prince, and to the rebuilding of Fidralinia and all the villages of Andule that were ravaged by the misguided wrath of Ayus Mogran.”

  “I am Markady of the House Kaewaya, a cousin to Elieme Ka’emnar and Lord of Sylshee. We have always seen our leader more as a Chief than as a King but for propriety’s sake my title is Kestelan. For many years, we fought hard as a buffer zone to keep Madrocea away from the western lands of Mindule, and to protect our own. The liberation of Tarligean excites me. My allegiance is to all of you, as a strong High Kingdom is a free High Kingdom,” the Lord of Sylshee said.

  “I am Alrain Folare, of that almost forgotten-house that ruled Namakiera in the days of Asutel Thetali, the scions of the ancient Lords of Naim in the old Empire, and the presiding house over Mitheldia, the capital of Mithuriel before the Cataclysm. Just as Daecrynn spent time living under an assumed name, so have I. My house is alive and well, and someday it will be revealed that Thetali is alive and well in the current High Prince. I have spent much time in the background, orchestrating revolution with allies from Tanathiel among the shadows and elsewhere. Currently the Ishaellar, formerly the Merry Jackals of Namakiera train with the Knights of Tanathiel. We are preparing for the swiftly approaching day when we will finish this war. We will then fortify Destriel, and the High Kingdom shall be complete.”

  “I am Kalnari Nenthripos. I am King of Tanathiel, the heartland of Tarligean. To us, it was never a question of reinstating a fallen nation; but to re-establish its proper order. Tarligean is a dream that has always been alive in my way. My name may be Madrocean, but it is not because gah’raen blood runs in my veins—as my father and mother were both of the House Tartali. It is to honor my foster father. He was a Jea Daldani whose Madrocean pseudonym had kept me alive. Like the Kestiel, I also have spent much of my life in hiding. As the Kestiel learned the ways of the Everwood in Tuitari, I learned the ways of the Black Dagger in Tanathiel, Kanaid, Matae, and Cardalia.

  “Today I have the privilege of leading the Jea Daldani, passed on by my foster father, as the birthright to the Kingdom of Tanathiel was given to me by my true father. We have gathered much intelligence about the current status of what is happening in Tarligean, in Madrocea, and even in Cireth. Lord Tuvitor, it is suggested to you, with the agreement of all of the First Circle acolytes of the Jea Daldani that you hide out in Tuitari until the day of your coronation, when we are satisfied with the security of this city and this palace. We suggest that the Queen of Andule and two of the—Court of Tanathiel accompany you. There are plans in place to have you assassinated, and though today we have the city secured we cannot promise to keep it satisfactorily secured for some time.”

  He bowed his head, and Daecrynn signaled a desire to speak, raising his right hand.

  “To be honest, though I suppose I could again call this city home, I feel as if my presence here is premature. Call it a hunch. I shall place the stewardship of the Throne of Andriel in the hands of a trusted friend,” Daecrynn declared. “Kalrys, take care of Andriel.”

  Kalrys approached and bowed before Daecrynn. “When you return, this city will be as brilliant as you remember it, Milord!”

  * * *

  After the meeting was adjourned, the Kings, Queens, nobles and generals formed into groups; discussing plans great and small. The Palace Quarter gates swung open, and a procession of knights in full ceremonial plate mail formed a line, an honor guard as Daecrynn and Nadali left the courtyard, toward the market square at the end of Asutel’s Walk, where a feast gathered.

  The air cooled, and coats were donned by the Taergeni celebrating the liberation of Andriel in the feast that was set up in the market square. Bonfires surrounded the high, algae-covered, three tiered fountain with a statue of Asutel Thetali at the top tier. Troupes of traveling bards from the Tuitari Everwood strummed, drummed and whistled on their flutes.As the stars came out on this clear night, Daecrynn and Nadali spirited away from the festivities, returning to a tent in the east courtyard that they had made their living quarters. Discreetly, they packed up just enough to survive a journey across the Tuitari peninsula to the stronghold at Ciartha. Daecrynn dressed in a plain brown cloak, with leather armor and plain clothing. Nadali wore a dark green cape over a very plain black linen dress. They prepared their bows, readied their scabbards, and sharpened their swords. Nadali sheathed her blade, a cyvnar greatsword used in battle by her father in battle under Ariandi and Meldehan’s command.

  They hiked through the city of Andriel as commoners through the midst of the festivities, weaving through crowds of people dancing and drinking as the city was lit with the fires of mirth and celebration. At the end of Asutel’s Walk, where the West Gate stood, they shared a long embrace before turning to face the stars of the west and the dark of the forest across the Nali Bridge.

  South of the Starlight Circle, they chose the way of the woodlands, following a huntsmen’s trail into the thicket of the Tuitari forest. They slept beneath the cover of the trees, in a small clearing sharing a warm embrace under a woolen blanket.

  In the morning, they continued east. The forests grew dense. They followed a network of trails used by hunters and nomadic elves of the rogue houses that hid from Madrocea’s bounty hunters.

  By noontide, they found the trail of Tian’tadd; which in actuality was a network of several trails through the heart of the Tuitari forests. The trails were wide enough for one horse to travel, or a group of people in single file.

>   ‘Two days north and we shall be guests of honor in Ciartha Tuitari, safe and secure,’ Daecrynn thought to himself.

  A little more than an hour passed as they journeyed down the Trail of Tian’tadd, when a high pitched ringing filled the air from a short distance off-trail. It sounded exactly like the song of Oro’quiel, but Daecrynn’s sword was silent.

  Nadali pointed into the forest to the west of the trail. “It’s coming from over there,” she observed. “I am going to take a look.”

  An elf, dressed in a black outfit slid down a rope from an adjacent tree with little sound. “I shall keep watch. I suggest you remain here, milord,” the Jea Daldani said.

  Nadali slipped between two trees. The crunch of the undergrowth could be heard as she followed the sound into the foliage. As the sound of her movement ceased, so did the howl of Terei’s Wail.

  “D’nani, you have to see this,” Nadali gasped.

  Daecrynn slid between the trees, and carefully stepped over a small bush. Beyond the bush was a tiny clearing with a sword impaling a tree stump, its hilt identical to Oro’quiel’s, save for the jewel. The green Kri’isen gem of Xendros glistened as a beam of sunlight bled through the forest canopy, striking the jewel. A section of bark was torn from the stump, and an inscription was carefully carved into the wood.