Exodus: The Windwalker Archive: Book 3 (Legends of Agora)

by Michael James Ploof

  -Azzeal, Keeper of the Windwalker Archive

  Talon and Gretzen silently followed Azzeal and the guard up the spiraling staircase and through a doorway that led them into the heart of the vast temple. He wasn’t prepared for what he found waiting for him; hundreds of elves sat along the semi-circle that surrounded the main floor. At the center of the gathering, seven elder elves sat at a long table. Queen Araveal was among them. She offered Talon the slightest of nods, and he was heartened that he had her vote at least—or so he assumed by the way she had treated him.

  The guard led them to stand before the council, whose table and chairs were set on a higher platform so that they loomed over them, staring down with blank faces. Talon glanced at the elders, unable to imagine how old they might actually be. He would have judged them to be in elder years had they been humans. Even the queen appeared to be at least sixty, though Talon knew it was more likely a thousand—she had been alive at least three hundred years ago, when the elves first came to Agora.

  “Ralliad Azzeal,” said the queen in a loud, authoritative voice. “You are charged with breaking one of our most sacred laws; giving a mortal a ring of power. How do you plead?”

  “Guilty, my queen.”

  A small murmur escaped the crowd. Talon looked to the council, and they too seemed slightly surprised by his plea.

  “Do you wish to defend your actions?”

  “I do,” said Azzeal.

  “Very well, we shall hear your argument.”

  “Might I sit? I’m afraid that this tale shall be a long one.”

  The queen nodded and raised her hand. From the floor, two cubes of stone rose up behind Azzeal and Talon. Talon took his seat and glanced over at Gretzen, who sat at the bottom row of benches, just off to his right.

  She offered him a quick wink.

  Azzeal began his story, starting with the visions that came to him in the cave of dreams years before Talon was born. He explained the contents of Talon’s star scroll, and then spoke of his time in Volnoss, where he had been researching the plant and animal life.

  When he finished the telling with Talon’s final departure, the council turned from him with faces still unreadable and leaned in toward each other to whisper quietly for a moment. Soon they parted, and the queen settled her gaze on Talon.

  “And what have you done with the ring since you have had it?” Araveal asked.

  Talon glanced at the elders. “I…I’ve tried to help my people,” he said, trying to speak with confidence.

  “How have you helped your people?” asked one of the elders.

  “I have helped to free hundreds of them from two different slave ships.”

  “You speak of the ships docked in our harbor?”

  “Yes…sir. We’ve renamed them Freedom and Redemption,” he said with a smile. The council, however, did not seem amused.

  “Have you killed with the power of this ring?”

  “I…” Talon thought to lie, but then realized the folly in that train of thought—they could probably overhear him even now. “Yes, I have killed those who were trying to kill me. But I have murdered no one.”

  The crowd spoke amongst themselves in quick, hushed whispers.

  “And these slaves that you have freed. Have they killed Agorans?”

  Talon thought of Argath pushing the bound men overboard. “Yes, sir,’ he said, hanging his head.

  “Ralliad Azzeal,” said the elder. “This is your defense? You have broken our laws and now many humans of Agora have died. How can you still justify your actions?”

  “Many have been saved as well,” said Azzeal. “And there should be no tears spilled for the men who would make others their slaves. You have not seen the Skomm or how they are treated. I remind the council that we elves outlawed slavery thousands of years ago, and we have no dealings with Agora’s Skomm traders. The practice is deplorable. I believe that if anyone has a chance to make a change in Agora, then it is Talon Windwalker.”

  “If I am not mistaken, Talon Windwalker would have been killed by Chiefson Winterthorn had you not intervened in Volnoss,” said another council member, this one female.

  “That is true,” said Azzeal, chin held high.

  “And what of those who might have lived had you not intervened? You took a glimpse into the future, then you took it upon yourself to change it.”

  “Yes, yes I did,” said Azzeal. “But no matter what punishment you hand down; it will be no worse than the one that awaits me.”

  “Explain yourself,” said the elder.

  “When I saved Talon from the chiefson, I put in motion events that would lead to my death at the hands of one of his descendants, one who would not have been born had I remained an observer.”

  Talon turned, shocked, and looked to Azzeal. The elf still held his head high.

  The elders too were staring at him, as if that was the last thing they expected to hear.

  “When will this happen?” asked the queen.

  “In roughly two hundred years,” said Azzeal.

  The queen lifted a hand and spoke words in elvish. Talon jumped when an energy globe suddenly flashed into existence and surrounded the council members. Through the shimmering force field, he could barely make them out. He guessed them to be speaking, though he could hear nothing through the veil.

  Talon eyed the crowd, who seemed to be anticipating the decision as much as he. Azzeal, however, seemed to have accepted whatever the verdict might be, for he glanced at Talon and offered him a smile.

  The silencing globe disappeared, and the queen rose from her chair. The entire gathering rose as well.

  “Ralliad Azzeal, we have come to a decision.”

  “Yes, my queen.”

  “Considering that your actions in this matter have condemned you with the knowledge of your death, which is a curse upon itself, we have decided upon a minimal sentence. Azzeal, you are hereby forbidden from leaving Elladrindellia, or interacting with anyone of another race, for the course of two hundred years.

  “Do you accept this verdict?”

  Azzeal looked to have more to say and seemed mildly surprised by the decision. Nevertheless, he bowed his head to the council. “If that is the council’s wish, then I shall respect and uphold it.”

  “Very well,” said the queen. “Now for the matter of the magic ring, Kyrr. Talon, would you please step forward and show us?”

  Talon took a few paces and stopped, lifting the blue-gemmed ring up to them.

  “Tell us, what does the ring do for you?’

  “Well, it makes me stronger, and faster. It helps me to heal as well.”

  “Show us,” said the oldest looking male.

  “I…I can’t really show you. It only works when I really need it to.”

  “If I may…” said Azzeal with a raised hand.

  The queen nodded.

  “Thank you, my queen. I designed the ring to be reactionary. I poured a piece of myself into the gem, if you will. It can…decide whether or not to give the host strength.”

  “And what were the limitations that you put on the ring?” asked the eldest.

  Azzeal glanced at Talon. “If it pleases the council, I would rather not disclose that information to…the host.”

  “We understand,” said the queen. “Do not be alarmed,” she said to Talon before lifting her hand and enclosing him in a globe of energy.

  He stood there in the center, not daring to touch the shimmering wall of energy. Through it he could hear nothing. He could barely make out Azzeal’s figure beside him, and guessed that the disturbance was created to guard against lip reading.

  After what Talon guessed to be five or ten minutes, the globe disappeared with a weak pop. The council was staring at him.

  “We have come to a decision,” said the queen. “Talon Windwalker, you are hereby ordered by the elder council of Elladrindellia to hand over the ring Kyrr immediately.”

  Silence filled the temple chamber, and all eyes settled on Talon. H
e looked to Azzeal, who only offered a frown.

  “May I ask why?” said Talon.

  “You would dare question the council?” the eldest blurted, clearly offended.

  “In this matter, yes…yes I would,” said Talon. “You’ve heard my account, and every word of it was true. I’ve never used the ring to hurt the innocent, or take advantage of anyone. Please, you must understand. I would see my people free. For centuries we have been oppressed by the Vald. And why? Only because they are bigger and stronger. Surely you would not condemn my people as well.”

  “And you think that with this ring you can right the wrongs of the world?” asked the queen.

  “No, your highness. I believe that I can help the Skomm to help themselves. You don’t know what it’s like there. They’re murderers…They’re…Do you know what I saw one night while I was spying the village that I knew I would be sent to? I saw a newborn baby torn from its mother’s grasp. You know why? Because we aren’t allowed to have children. I saw firsthand what happens when you are found out. The supposed father was bludgeoned to death and tossed onto a roaring fire. The mother was beaten to death before my eyes. And the baby…her cries still haunt my dreams, and her final silence haunts my waking hours. I discovered some time later that the infant was conceived through rape. The man who died in the father’s place loved the woman, true, but they never took it that far. The mother was raped by a Vaka by the name of Brekken. You see, that is what the Vaka do with their sex slaves that accidently get pregnant.

  “One might say that we should fight back, and some of us do. My best friend Jahsin wanted to start a Skomm revolution, and I swear he could have done it. But he died by the hands of Chiefson Winterthorn, after I let him live. My friend Akerri slashed her own face with a dagger because it meant the death of Brekken, the Vaka who raped her sister.”

  Talon watched the elders. Some of them seemed to be moved by his words. Others, namely the eldest of the seven, stared at him with indifference, taking notes here and there, but otherwise acting as though they were listening to some arbitrary report.

  He let out a sigh and stood straight, holding his head high. “My apologies, but I cannot in good conscience hand over this ring. It was a gift given to me by a friend, and to me that means something. I intend on freeing the Skomm, and I intend on using Kyrr to do it.”

  Talon suddenly called to Chief, and a moment later the wolf was standing next to him. Sensing his master’s desperation and fear, the wolf growled low and crouched slightly. The hair on his back shot up straight.

  “If you intend to take Kyrr, you will have to pry it from my bloody clenched fist,” said Talon.

  Gretzen moved a few steps closer to her grandson and offered the eldest elf her best scowl.

  “The decision has been made,” said the eldest elf.

  Talon looked to the queen, whose eyes were alight with child-like wonder.

  “The judgement stands!” said the eldest elf, showing more fire in his veins than his long white hair and frail frame hinted at.

  “I would speak!” said the queen, rising from her chair.

  She held the crowd’s attention fully, leaving them hanging on her next word. Talon waited for what she might say, thinking surely he had gone too far. Nevertheless, he stood proudly with Chief and Gretzen at his sides.

  “Upon consideration of Talon’s newest testimony, I have decided to overturn the council’s decision.”

  “My queen,” the eldest began.

  “Your voice has been heard, and your wisdom has been weighed against the callings of my own heart. What kind of elves are we if we turn our heads to such atrocities?”

  “There is more than one side to every story,” said the eldest.

  “Indeed,” said the queen. “Azzeal, you studied the barbarians for nearly a decade. Does Talon’s report of their culture ring true?”

  “It does, my queen. I have seen the Vald and Vaka do things that I would not want to repeat…to anyone.”

  “Understand,” said the queen, turning left and right to eye the council. “This is not the same as intervention. Whether or not we are taking sides in this fighting is not the point. We are here to determine whether or not Talon Windwalker deserves the gift of Kyrr. And I for one believe that he does.”

  Some of the old elves shook their heads in agreement. The eldest and one of the females looked furious, but they held their tongues.

  Talon was above the clouds with excitement.

  “Talon Windwalker. You have my blessing, and that of the elves of Elladrindellia. May Kyrr bring you the strength you need in trying times.”

  “Thank you, Queen Araveal.”

  Chapter 9

  Dinner with Elves

  I have only seen his deeds through blurry visions half understood. Seeing him speak to the queen tonight made me proud. He reminds me of my son, gone now for three hundred years.

  -Azzeal, Keeper of the Windwalker Archive

  Talon attended dinner with Gretzen that night. He tidied up as well as he could, though in the end he still felt as old and musty as a hand-me-down shoe. The elves appeared so clean and well groomed, and radiated with such magic and power, that Talon thought he might never feel clean around them.

  Azzeal personally led them to the queen’s palace, where a young female elf in a long green dress greeted them with a beautiful smile and elegant elven words that Talon did not understand.

  “Oh, I apologize,” said the maiden in the barbarian dialect. “Welcome to my queen’s Kastali.”

  She smiled at her clever use of the barbarian word and ushered them to follow.

  A flight of long winding stairs led them through a lush indoor garden and over a bridge spanning a rushing river that went right through the palace, leading to a large, well-lit dining room of gold.

  Talon stopped and stared at the ceiling in awe. High up in the curved buttresses, elaborate crystal chandeliers hung, casting soft golden light on the spacious chamber. A long table sat at the center, with the queen and another elf sitting at the far end. She stood as they approached.

  “Welcome,” said the queen.

  “Thank you for inviting us into your home,” said Gretzen, handing the queen a small wicker basket that she had made, full of nightleaf, an herb that Talon knew to be rare on Volnoss.

  “You’re welcome, and thank you for the gift,” said the queen. She smelled the exotic herbs and asked, “Do they make tea, perhaps?”

  “Is nightleaf,” said Gretzen. “Good to use in bath of hot water, will rejuvenate body, give good sleep.”

  “Thank you. Please, meet my son, Zerafin. He has been very interested to meet you both.”

  A tall, smooth-skinned elf with long dark hair spread across his shoulders lifted his chin, giving the two the barbarian nod of respect.

  “Gretzen Spiritbone and Talon Windwalker. Tales of your struggle reached my ears in the deep south of Elladrindellia. It is a privilege to meet you both.”

  “Privilege all mine,” said Gretzen, eyeing the contents of the table.

  “I’m truly honored,” said Talon. “Feikinstafir, if Jahsin could see me now.”

  “Talon!” said Gretzen.

  “It is quite all right,” said Zerafin. “The lad speaks with a truthful mouth and the innocence of youthful discovery. And I rather enjoy that expression of yours. Feikinstafir!” he said, trying it out for himself. He grinned and said it again.

  The queen gave him a playful slap on the arm and offered Talon and Gretzen seats across from theirs. No one sat at the head of the table.

  To Talon’s surprise, the queen lifted a wine bottle and served them all herself before sitting back down. She raised her cup to the heavens, and the others followed suit.

  “To the spirit of revolution!”

  The five clanged glasses.

  “Lelamendellia!” said the three elves, while simultaneously Talon and Gretzen shouted, “Veizla!”

  They drank from their glasses, and Zerafin looked to Talon and Gret
zen. “What is this…veizla?”

  “It is our celebration cheer,” said Talon.

  “Means feast,” said Gretzen.

  Zerafin nodded agreeably.

  “What was your word? Legomendellia?”

  Zerafin chuckled. “Lel-a-men-del-lia, lelamendellia. It means, ‘to life.’”

  “Well then,” said Talon, raising his glass anew. “Lelamendellia!”

  They shared a laugh and sipped their sweet wine. The doors at the end of the room opened, and rather than servants, as Talon had expected, wheeled serving trays rolled out of the kitchen and stopped beside each of them. The queen reached out a hand and slowly began weaving a pattern in midair, and simultaneously, the lids floated off, releasing a billow of steam. A bowl rose off of each of the trays, floated over their shoulders, and settled on the plate before them.

  Enthralled by the display of magic, Talon watched as a clear liquid floated out of the tray beside him and poured itself flawlessly into another cup set before him. This too gave off steam.

  “It is a rice wine,” said the queen as the lids replaced themselves and the carts rolled back into the kitchen.

  “Your magic is very strong,” said Gretzen with an approving nod, her nose inches from the fragrant soup.

  Talon looked to the queen, finally realizing that it had been she who controlled the dishes and carts. He marveled at her ability to control so many things at once. Once again he wondered what an elf might be able to do on the battlefield. A shiver passed through him as he considered the legendary dark elves, whose powers were said to be terrifying to behold.

  “Is it to your liking?” the queen asked.

  Talon realized that he had been staring at the soup, lost in his thoughts.

  “Oh! Yes, it is delicious.”

  “That was quite the speech you gave today,” said Zerafin. “Your words touched many hearts, including mine.”