“I, I can’t sleep. I lay awake at night, thinking about, him,” he said without looking up. “Apparently some Volanti scouts spotted Rakmar and his minions a few days ago to the east, likely heading towards his Island. I’ve been staring at this map for days now. I just, I don’t know what to do,” he sighed. His voice was weary. He grabbed a fist full of papers and began flicking through them as if the answer to all his problems was hidden somewhere in the writing.
“What do you want to do?” Shaya asked, not really knowing what to say.
“I want that monster dead,” Rowan stood upright and turned to her, and she saw, through the exhaustion, through the pain, she saw his determination. “Not for vengeance, this isn’t about retribution. He has the power to wipe us out, and he’s only getting stronger. He killed a God in front of us, what chance do we have?”
“We have the Goddess’s prophecy,” Shaya said with as much confidence as she could muster.
“Don’t call it that,” Rowan tossed the papers back onto the table angrily “I don’t know what it was, but it was no prophecy. It didn’t work. The Gods were wrong about me.”
“I don’t believe that,” Shaya said crossing her arms, “The Goddess told her children that the light would be unlocked in our darkest hour. Maybe back at the lake, wasn’t our darkest hour. But I’m afraid it soon will be.”
“I don’t know. We need an army to defeat him, not ancient words from a long lost deity. I’ve been trying to work out a battle strategy, but we don’t have the numbers, so I’m wasting my time. Besides I barely know what I’m doing, I’m not my-,” Rowan trailed off. He shook his head, rubbed his eyes and walked over to the bed and sat down heavily.
“You’re not what?” Shaya asked, even though she was sure she knew the answer. He didn’t reply. Slowly, she walked over and sat down on the bed next to him.
“You’re not what, Rowan?” she asked again softly.
Rowan hesitated and shook his head again as if he refused to speak. For a long silent moment, he stared at the shattered crown that lay ruined on the stone floor. The prince glanced up at Shaya, who was watching him intently. As their eyes met, his brow furrowed and his gaze fell back down to the pieces of his father’s crown. Unable to look at her again he finally spoke.
“I’m not my father.”
She watched him for a moment, lost for words. The young boy’s dark eyes stared through a wall of shimmering tears yet to fall, at the ruined golden band that lay on the smooth grey stone. His bottom lip quivered before he spoke again.
“I miss him.”
It was as if he burst. Floods of tears poured down his cheeks, and his trembling hands rushed to cover his face. His shoulders shook violently as he bent forward and cried into his palms. Shaya put her arm around him, and he leant into her. His sobbing became horrible gasping breaths as the grief he had been bottling up for days suddenly rushed to the surface. All Shaya could do was hold him as he screamed soundlessly through his sorrow. Her heart broke for him, she wanted to make everything better, but she couldn’t. She didn’t even know what she could say to him, she couldn’t understand the crippling sadness he must have been feeling. She never knew her parents and seeing as she never found out what happened to them, it was difficult to mourn them. If, however, something had happened to Benjin, she knew she would be feeling the same pain as her friend. After a while, his breathless bawling grew quieter, and his shoulders stopped shaking. After a few shuddering breaths he sat back up, and Shaya let her hand slip off him. He shook his head with a snort and wiped the tears from his bloodshot eyes.
“Pathetic,” he muttered as he finally brought his hands away from his face “Look at me, I’m no king,” he said finally.
“You’re a son who lost his father. King or no king, you're allowed to mourn.” Shaya’s voice was soft and soothing,
“We face the greatest threat of our age, and I’m snivelling like a baby. Everyone will turn to me now. Yes, the Boaruss and the Volanti have their own leaders, but even they turned to the king for guidance. They loved my father, they respected him, and now he’s gone,” he swallowed hard and wiped away another tear that had escaped.
“Me? I’m just a child,” he said angrily. “I’m not like him, I can’t live up to the king he was,” the young boy put his head in his hands as he took another shaking gasp of air.
“Then don’t,” said Shaya after a moment of painful silence.
Rowan looked up at her, confused.
“Don’t try and live up to him. My uncle once told me that the Boaruss call your father, the Warrior King. That’s not you.”
Rowan almost laughed “If you’re trying to make me feel better, try harder.”
“Don’t you see, you don’t have to be your father. You should be the king the people need, the one that they, we deserve.” Shaya put a reassuring hand on the young boy’s back. “Be the king that finds a way to fight back this coming darkness. One that is strong and determined, like I know you already are. Don’t try and be your father. Be your own king.”
Rowan stared at her silently for a moment. Then she saw something flicker in his bloodshot eyes. He smiled, and without saying another word, he rose to his feet and strode over to the map once more. He hunched over the table again, both hands resting on the solid oak. His eyes didn’t seem so tired anymore, they were alert, focused. Shaya stood up and was about to speak when without looking at her he spoke.
“Find Ellesia. Tell her I wish to hold a meeting with Avem and Avis.”
“The Volanti elders? Why?”
“I finally know what I have to do,” said Rowan turning to face her with a confident smile, one Shaya had never seen before.
Chapter Sixteen
The Monarch and Matriarch
It all seemed to happen so fast. One moment Shaya had been talking to Rowan, the next she was dashing through the snow, back down the slippery steps in search of Ellesia. She had found the warrior speaking to a group of Volanti about the Royal Guard, a fascinating subject to the bird people. Shaya had rushed up to her so fast that Elle had instinctively put her had on the hilt of her sword and spun around ready to draw. Shaya told Elle that Rowan wanted a meeting with Avem and Avis and the silver-haired woman had given her the slightest of proud smirks.
Before she knew it, Shaya was walking through the massive stone door into Song Bird Hall alongside Rowan and Elle. They were being escorted by two of the armoured guards that had stood watch outside. The hall they walked through was a large oval shape, with several pathways lining the walls above them. Their footsteps echoed as they walked, there was no one around. Everything was made of stone, sculpted over generations from the mountains themselves. Song Bird Hall was one of the oldest structures in the kingdom, but it didn’t look it. Everything was polished beautifully, the walls looked more like white marble than stone. Shaya found the floor a little slippery, her boots still damp from the snow outside, she felt her feet sliding as they walked. If it were a few years earlier, she wouldn’t have been able to resist the urge to take a running start, jump and slide across the hall on her knees. Now, she was just about old enough to know better. Just. She did, however, let slip a smirk at the thought of the guard's faces if she just slid along on her belly. The Volanti guard’s slightly yellow clawed feet were thick and almost rubbery. They didn’t slip or slide anywhere, their grip was firm, their balance and posture perfect.
They climbed a set of winding white stairs that spiralled up to the next level. Shaya slid her hand along the smooth white bannister, it felt as if it was made of glass. Finally, they came to an oval-shaped wooden door with long brass handles.
“A moment please,” said one of the guards and the party stopped. The guard knocked twice on the door and entered, closing the door softly behind him. The second guard stayed staring at the door, ignoring the humans behind him. Shaya shot a sideways glance at Rowan. He stood silently, a thoughtful expression on his face. He had put a comb through his hair and had the sling on his arm changed.
Now dressed in clean navy blue Volanti robes, he looked like himself again.
The egg-shaped door opened again, and the guard poked his helmeted head out.
“This way please,” he uttered and opened the door wider.
The corridor was long with a perfectly curved ceiling. There were no windows, it was lit by dozens of flaming torches leading all the way down. The flames danced along the ceiling above them, making it look as if the smooth stone was alive. Eventually, the corridor opened up into a large spherical room. The air grew warmer as they entered, a blazing fireplace sat at the far side quietly crackling away. The wall on which it sat was like black crystal, whereas the rest of the walls, the incredibly high ceiling and even the floor were as pale as the rest of the building. Shaya stared up at the shimmering blackness, it was slightly jagged unlike the rest of the stone, it reflected the whole room like a giant dark mirror.
“The heart of the mountain,” said an elderly voice.
They all turned and saw two Volanti sitting on comfortable looking seats, their hands clasping the brass armrests. The chairs were suspended a ten-foot in the air on thin stone pillars. The Volanti that sat on them wore long purple and silver robes that cascaded down, their edges just lightly brushing the floor. They both had feathers as white as the snow that covered the peaks. Avem the Monarch had a collection of feathers draped around his neck on a thin silver chain. They were all various lengths, colours and patterns. Feathers from the past rulers of the Volanti. He kept them with him, as a reminder of who had come before. Avis the Matriarch wore a golden headdress, made of thin spirals of metal intertwining and looping around each other, like a gilded nest.
“Centuries ago, our ancestors burrowed deep into the mountain,” Avem spoke again “But as hard as they tried, they couldn’t pierce the heart” He rubbed a clawed talon across his feathery chin “Magnificent, isn’t it? I could spend hours staring at the chunk of glass.”
“You do spend hours staring at that chunk of glass Avem,” said Avis with a shake of her head.
“Lord and Lady of the Volanti,” Rowan called up to them “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”
“My prince, you are most welcome. As are you Shaya Greyborn,” Avis gestured to the young girl. “We hear you fought bravely on your journey.”
“She did. She saved my life countless times,” Rowan said. Shaya was surprised to hear such praise and smiled.
“Then we thank you, child, for keeping our precious prince safe.”
“It was an honour Matriarch,” Shaya felt a twinge of embarrassment as she spoke the words and felt her cheeks turning red as she bowed. She wasn’t sure how to act in front of Volanti royalty.
“I’m sure it was,” Avis said and turned her attention back to Rowan “My prince, I must say, we have been friends with your father for many years. Your loss is felt deep within our people, he was a good man and a fine king,” said Avis.
“Thank you, Matriarch,” Rowan lightly bowed his head, his voice catching in his throat ever so slightly.
“Enough of this formality young prince, we’re nearly a hundred and fifty years old. I grew tired of formalities sometime last century my boy,” Avem said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
“Very well,” smiled Rowan.
“We were told you needed to speak with us urgently.”
“That’s right. It’s a matter of great importance.”
“Then speak it.”
Rowan glanced at Shaya, for a moment they locked eyes. Shaya nodded with the flash of a faint smile. Rowan nodded back and took a few steps towards the Volanti elders.
“I’m sure by now, you know of this darkness that spreads across the land. No doubt you’ve heard the whispers of what this evil is. I’m here to tell you that those whispers are true. The Banished One from the old tales has returned. The words of The Faith have become more than belief, the Gods are real, and Rakmar Balrok is a demon that must be destroyed, once and for all. I fear our time to act is quickly slipping away.”
The two Volanti elders stared at the young boy, their mouths agape.
“What are you saying, child?” Avis stirred in her high seat.
“Rakmar is a threat to us all. We must all band together.”
“If what you say is true, and this Rakmar Balrok is indeed the Fallen One, are you telling me you wish to go to war with a God?” Avem seemed shocked.
“Yes, I do.”
The silence that followed hung in the air for an uncomfortably long moment until finally Avis leant forward in her high seat and spoke.
“Your father was a great man, child. I know the pain must be great, but you can’t let your emotions control you. You can’t go off on a suicide mission to satisfy your vengeance.”
“Vengeance?” Rowan took another step forward. “This has nothing to do with revenge,” he said sternly “This is bigger than that. This is about the fate of our kingdom. From the shadow’s own lips, I heard him vow, he would slaughter us all. Every single one of us, and he has the power to do it.”
“He is a God. You tried to defeat him once before, and you failed,” Avem said squirming in his seat “What makes you think you can do it now?”
“With an army at my side, we’ll take the fight to him.”
“But how will you kill a child of the Goddess?”
“I have a plan. Send word to Ortuskuss the elder of the Boaruss. To the city of Bastion, to Tetra and Serran, all the human cities. Anyone willing to fight for their lands, to come to Volanti Peak. I need soldiers.”
“And Volanti soldiers,” Avis’s eyes were fixed on the young boy as if she was trying to pierce him with her gaze.
“Yes, Matriarch.”
Avem and Avis fell silent and turned to each other and whispered quietly. It seemed a long time before they both turned back the prince. The look on their stern faces made their next words obvious.
“We can’t risk the lives of our people child,” Avem said shaking his head.
“He is no child,” Elle burst out and marched forward. “He is your prince, soon to be your king, show some respect.”
“It’s alright Elle,” Rowan said quietly.
“Apologies your highness, she’s quite right.”
“Good,” spat Elle “Now then, do you deny your prince’s request?”
“Elle,” Rowan shouted. She spun around and saw the angry glare he was staring at her with. Silently she bowed her head and took a step back.
“We are truly sorry my prince. We will send out messengers at once, and the rest of Arrolyn can decide for themselves what they will do. But we can’t sacrifice Volanti lives in a futile war.”
Shaya could see Rowan’s hands were raging fists, but somehow, he didn’t let his anger show on his youthful face.
“Thank you for your time Monarch,” He bowed his head “Matriarch,” he bowed again and gestured for Elle and Shaya to leave.
“They can’t do this, can they?” Shaya said quietly.
“Come on,” Elle grabbed her by the shoulder and pushed her towards the long corridor.
“One final question,” Rowan stopped and turned back to his hosts “How long do think it will be before the darkness reaches these peaks? How many of your people will die then?”
Without waiting for an answer, he turned around and walked away. Shaya shot him a proud smile, and Rowan smirked back. The silence they left in the room spoke volumes.
♦ ♦ ♦
Shaya and Rowan watched as Elle silently bowed her head the moment they left Song Bird Hall and stormed off in a rage through the snow, kicking chunks of white powder into the air as she marched towards the stairs. Rowan sighed heavily and slowly wandered over to the chest high stone wall at the edge of the path, hands stuffed in the pockets of his navy blue robes. He stood and looked out at the kingdom before him. The sun was setting, covering the land below in a beautiful yellow hue. The snow that covered the peaks turned into piles of glistening gold. Clouds above billowed in fluffs of pink as the sky
slowly changed from a deep blue to a darkening purple. The shattered moon hung high above the world, a ring of silver debris encircled the massive orb. It’s cracked surface a constant reminder of what was out there, beyond the horizon, plotting his next move.
Rowan put both arms on the wall and rested his chin on his hands as he lent quietly staring off into the distance. Shaya followed suit, and for a moment they stood in silence and watched the world go by. There were less Volanti in the sky now, the paths were quiet below. The lamps had been lit, making it look like there was an army of fireflies, all stood in a line across each level of the bird people’s paradise. The breeze was growing colder, and Shaya rubbed her arms to keep warm, wishing she hadn’t forgotten her coat in Rowan’s house.
“What do we do now?” she asked finally.
“We wait,” said Rowan flatly. “There’s nothing else we can do.”
“Can the Volanti really refuse you?”
“They’re just scared of losing their people. I understand that. But their fear has made them narrow-minded. If they think they are safe from Rakmar’s wrath up here, they’re wrong.”
“Can we win without them?”
Rowan looked at Shaya, his eyes exhausted once more “I don’t know.”
“But we have to try.”
“Yes, we do,” Rowan pushed off the wall with a tired huff.
“And what about the light?” Shaya asked.
“It’s like you said. Our darkest hour will soon be upon us. When it is, the light will come. It has to.”
Shaya smiled “You believe that?”
Rowan hesitated. His eyes fell on hers, and with a faint smile he said, “I have faith.”
The sound of flapping wings distracted them. As they watched, they saw a dozen Volanti messengers fly from the balcony atop Song Bird Hall. They swooped over the heads of Shaya and Rowan as the two children watched. Tightly bound scrolls sat in purple satin pouches on the bird’s waists. They soared off in different directions at high speed. The young prince and the blonde farm girl both watched wordlessly. After a while, the bird people were no more than black specs on the horizon against the low orange sun.
The Shattered Moon (A Divine Legacy Book 1) Page 26
