by Ross Buzzell
“I don’t know. It seems like you were having quite the time telling stories to the children.”
Bara laughs and nods.
“Imagine that, going from life of the party to the old woman who tells battle stories to children at parties. Did you ever see that coming?”
Konner laughs and nods at Bara’s comment.
“Actually I did. Give it a few more years and you will be complete with a walking aid.”
Bara throws her head back in boisterous laughter. She places her hands on her side, clearly in pain but not caring, just enjoying the evening, like Konner and every other Boronian with them.
“I’m only a year older than you Konner, which means you are not far behind.”
Konner stands up. He shakes out his legs for a moment before he plants his feet. Gingerly he hops around with his fists up with the grace of a professional boxer. The prince gives a few quick jabs before he sits back down.
“I don’t know. I’m pretty spry for a twenty year old.”
Bara shakes her head as a cart passes by. She reaches out and grabs a stick with meat skewered all the way down its length. Quickly she takes a bite of one of the pieces of meat near the end. In six short bites she swallows the food and looks over at Konner.
“You know sir, I am aware that you originally did not want me on your squad, but I just wanted to say that I am glad that you changed you mind.”
Konner nods in agreement and smiles as he continues to watch the crowd bustle and weave between each other like a colorful tapestry of life.
“I am too. You are a good soldier and an even better friend.”
Konner looks over to Bara whose cheek is full and puffed out with food.
“If I may ask sir, why did you not want me on your OWS?”
Konner thinks back briefly to the day his decision was made. He shrugs.
“You had a deep connection to two of the people in our squad. Jil is like a sister to you and Man’Sanfur had feelings for you. Those sorts of attachments can cloud one’s judgment and result in failed missions and lost lives.”
Bara nods in understanding. She sits in silence for a moment as she finishes her bite. She then pipes back up.
“Well what about you and Disa’ani? You two have been inseparable since our first day at the Academy. Is that not a conflict of interest?”
Konner sits back and allows his spine to come in contact with the bench back.
“It is, yes, but at the same time it is different. You are a very strong fighter. You would have been selected on someone’s OWS if I passed on you, but not Disa’ani. When we started he was fast, very fast and had some natural skill with spears but he lacked refinement and precision. Without those two traits a soldier will never be selected for OWS. And, had he been passed up, he would have transferred to the most dangerous outpost we have to prove himself, where he would have certainly been killed. I brought him in not to play favorites, but to save his life, to mold him into a truly great soldier.”
Jil’Thorin begins to approach from the crowd, a drink in hand being held by a crystal chalice.
“So you did it to save his life… I can understand that.”
Bara tacks on. Jil, hearing the latter part of the conversation chimes in.
“So now that the Cryptea have been disbanded, do you know what we are going to do now that there is no need for an OWS?”
Konner nods as he stands up. Bara holds her hand out as a way to ask the prince for help to her feet. Graciously Konner obliges and gently aids his friend to stand.
“I have thought about that and instead of having elites, I thought I would bring back the knight, forge a corps of knights to be the protectors of Boron. No more black bags and secrets. And you two, Disa’ani and Man’Sanfur will all be the upper echelon, the inner circle with the title of ‘First Knight’ inside of the organization of the Paladin.”
Jil’Thorin takes a drink and nods in approval.
“Paladin, the ancient holy soldier. I like it.”
“As do I.”
Bara adds. Soon music begins to play. As the multitude of sounds blend together from many different instruments, people begin to dance with one another. Jil’Thorin nearly chokes on her Schinus as she recognizes the ‘folk’ tune. Swallowing what little she didn’t choke back into her cup, she sets the chalice down, wipes her mouth against her sleeve and stands up. Quickly Jil makes her way before Konner and holds out a hand of proposition to him. Konner hesitates for a moment. He is graceful and coordinated, however, the one thing Konner feels he is unable to do is dance. It always made him feel awkward and as if it were forced.
“My dance is on the battle field, not here.”
Jil instantly reaches out and grasps Konner’s arm tightly. She gives the prince a tug which jerks his body lazily forwards some, but to no avail.
“Not tonight. Tonight your dance is with me.”
She pulls on Konner again. A firm hand shoves Konner from his seat and onto his feet. He turns to see Bara teasingly wave at him. Konner sighs and shakes his head.
“Traitor.”
he huffs with a scoff. Bara laughs and shakes her head.
“This is for the good of your people, highness.”
Konner’s scoff quickly turns to a laugh before he feels Jil’Thorins warm hand squeeze his tightly and give him a tug. Konner stumbles forward and into the sea of now dancing citizens as they move in a counter clockwise fashion around the fire. Jil looks over at Konner. His eyes meet hers, the flames reflection dancing in her hues.
“Do you think you will remember the steps?”
Konner laughs and nods as his mind goes back to his lessons of the traditional dances from when he was a child. Konner counts up the timing silently in his mind, as the beat strikes and allows for the steps to start in a reasonable sequence, Konner grabs Jil and begins to move with the swirling crowd of Boronians. His instant action catches Jil off her guard which causes her to laugh. The prince smiles at her laughter as they move gracefully throughout the crowd spinning and dipping to the up-beat music in the style of their ancestors. The song, being of a particularly long winded verse, lasts for several minutes before it begins to wind down. Konner and Jil slow their pace gradually as the rest of the troupe slow as well. The song ends with all of the men dipping the women backward. Konner and Jil are no exception. The prince places his hand firmly in the small of Jil’s back and dips her. As the final cord is struck, all of the women are stood back up. The entire crowd begins to clap for one another in a soft, yet spirited, fashion. Konner and Jil are no exceptions.
“You dance well.
Konner says between deep breaths. The circuit had taken more out of him than anticipated. Jil curtsies slightly to Konner’s complement
“Thank you and you do not give yourself enough credit. Perhaps you should give up fighting for it.”
she teases; a laugh finds its way from Konner’s throat as he shakes his head. Within moments Bara’Helor appears by Jil’s side. She claps for them.
“Well done you two, but now, Konner, I am afraid it is my turn.”
Konner’s eyes widen. He shakes his head and Bara instantly counters before he has a chance to protest.
“You cannot dance with one and not the other.”
Konner looks at Jil as if for her to save him. She shakes her head and shrugs as she backs away and disappears into the spectators as a slower folk song begins. Konner and Bara stand at attention, their hands upright and touching directly between the faces of them. Slowly and with everyone else, they circle each other, moving forward and then backward as a rolling wave gently crashing on the sand.
“So I heard you are to be married next week.”
Bara speaks softly as she looks from Konner to others in the crowd. This being a topic the prince greatly wishes to avoid, Konner attempts to make short work of it.
“To Na’era, yes.”
Konner’s tone is cold and distant. Bara tilts her head slightly. The smile on her face quickly dis
appears.
“You do not love her do you.”
Her words were less of a question and more of a statement. Konner quickly shakes his head.
“I do not.”
“Is there anyone whom you do love?”
A smile forms back on Bara’Helor’s lips as she teasingly enquires of Konner, who shakes his head as they continue to dance; most people tend to think that with the manner in which he interacts with Jil or Bara that there is something between at least two of them. The fact of the matter is, Konner feels he can be his true self around them and as a result is far less reserved. In truth he views the two as sisters, even to a similar caliber as Lei.
“To be honest, there is no one and as of the end of next week, there can be no one.”
Bara looks down for a moment as they spin around each other before switching hands.
“That is terrible.”
she replies softly in a downtrodden tone.
“Let us speak of this no more. We are here to enjoy the Festival of Life. Let us enjoy it.”
Bara looks back up at Konner’s smiling face. Her lips mirror those of Konner’s. Instantly her steps gain more spring. They begin to move more in tune with the music. Konner quickly matches pace. Soon the song winds down as the music glides to a brief break so people can grab more to eat and drink. As the second round of dances begin, Konner needs no coaxing. Being so full of peace with his people, the prince jumps into each and every folk dance that he can, dancing with a different partner each time. Each partner is more surprised than the last at who they are dancing with. The night wears on, so does the festival. No one, not even Konner slows down for a single second of it, but as the sun begins to rise the festival begins to wane. By the end everyone is exhausted in the most exhilarating of ways. Konner looks at Jil and Bara, no words need be said between the three and with a nod and a wave the tuckered out prince begins to walk toward the nearest cliff face while his comrades begin to head home with the rest of the crowd. Konner looks up, high above he sees the palace. As the blue light of the day sun gently begins to kiss his skin, Konner closes his eyes and bathes in the warmth before biting his lower lip and letting out a loud whistle.
Chapter 14
Konner’s whistle fades in the light of the coming dawn as it falls silent. For a moment a serene peaceful silence fills the crisp morning air before the familiar sounds of leathered wings cuts through the silence like a knife. Konner looks up to see Drakesjäl circle above him in a slow descent. After a few moments of observing his mount gradually make his way to the ground; Konner takes a step back to give the dragon room to land. Gracefully the creature touches down. The joy on his face is blindingly evident to the prince. Konner approaches Drakesjäl and as always, he rubs the back of his head.
“Did you have fun boy?”
Konner asks with a smile. The dragon’s tail whips back and forth with great power, audibly cutting the air as it does so.
“Good.”
Konner walks toward the dragon’s midsection and mounts the beast. He looks up at the palace high above.
“Take me home Drakesjäl.”
The beast, looking back at Konner, nods. His wings flap open and with a powerful flap aided by a leap the pair launch up the side of the crystalline mountain face. Konner leans against the dragon’s smooth, scaly skin and rolls his body with the movement of the dragon as to not fall off. The ‘whoosh’ of the wind and the flapping of his cape fill his ears as they rapidly approach the palace. They burst over the edge of the palace’s main patio where visiting dignitaries and other dragon riders would land for access to the royal home. Drakesjäl folds his wings beneath him as they soar higher than the roof of the palace, Konner smiles before he leans back, contorting his body in a snakelike twist and places his hand behind him on the back of the beast. As if they are one, Drakesjäl rotates his body to match Konner’s and dives headlong toward the landing platform. As they breach the height of the palace, Drakesjäl opens his wings; this slows them down rapidly as they land on the cold stone. Konner dismounts before he gives his pet a gentle rub behind his wings. Without another word or glance; Drakesjäl takes back off into the dawning skies. Konner turns to enter the palace before he stops abruptly. Standing before the large shimmering doors of the Greeting Hall are his the High King and his Queen, his father and mother. Knowing what is to come, Konner’s’ steps are slow and heavy ladened as he approaches his parents, first the prince greets his father. They grasp forearms. Even with an aged body, the High King’s grip is still strong as the pressure on Konner’s forearm is great, yet causes no pain.
“My son, Na’era is in the palace now in preparation for your union.”
The High King speaks soft, yet firm as his grasp. Konner releases his father’s forearm.
“Father, do you not think this tradition of royal unions is outdated?”
Konner asks. His tone and vernacular changes as it usually did around his father in an attempt to seem more ‘regal’ as his mother would put it.
“Konner, we must bear children with the bloodlines of the other royal families else the peace the Lorian line has fought so vigorously for will surely diminish.”
If there is one thing Konner could say about his mother it is that she always put her children’s happiness above all else, save this once.
“Your mother is right son; our blood is pure and must remain that way. You know the ancient prophecy, ‘If a Lorian no longer sits on the High King’s throne then Darkness with reign supreme once moreand…”
Konner interrupts.
“With the teleporting technologies at our disposal the Darkness will spread across the universe and destroy all life.’ I know father it was in my studies. I just wish I could chose a bride of my own, not be paired with one because tradition dictates.”
Not wanting to speak the rhyme of the prophecy, Konner paraphrases it. The words about the fall of Boron are known by every man, woman and child on the planet. As the prophecy had come before the Lorian lineage and could easily be traced that far, it is transparent to the people that the High King stays within Konner’s’ family, not for the lust of power, but a necessity to keep the planet safe.
The three turn and walk into the Greeting Hall. Konner’s’ parents on either side of him; in silence the, three strides gracefully over the marble flooring, Konner’s eyes wander around the corridor of gold and crystal. Indescribably beautiful works of art are strewn across the ceiling as if it were the tapestry to heaven itself. Massive chandeliers, made of the finest crystal on Boron, hang from the ceiling in intervals between windows that reach from floor to ceiling which allow the light of the sun to flood the corridor and reflect off of mirrors, just as large, on the far side. The reflecting light fills the room with the dawn’s rays which causes the crystal and the gold to glisteningly dance in before them in such a way that its beauty stuns Konner, no matter how many times he is witness to it.
The three reach the end of the corridor where two huge doors hewn from stone stand, as opposed to the glorious wooden doors elsewhere in the castle. Konner moves to the far side of his mother as the three are now just steps away from the doors. Konner places his hands on the heavy stone door. His father mirrors his movements on the other. Together they push against the massive and heavy barrier that stands between them and the far entrance of the royal ballroom. The doors give way; they slowly open with a low rumble that reverberates not only through Konner, but the palace itself. As the slab of smooth stone comes to a halt, Konner looks up to see Na’era standing before them in the center of the ballroom. She had been cleaned up since the last time Konner had seen her. Her clothing is not tattered but rather a long black silken dress that hugs her strong form flawlessly. Konner rights himself as the three continue to approach the princess. Her raven hair falls flawlessly down her porcelain face before cascading down her body, ending just below her bosom with not a strand out of place. Even then, appearing nearly as flawless as one could; Konner feels no stir within him.
> Na’era bows to the trio. The High King and Queen bow back out of a sign of respect. Konner nods genuinely before her.
“Your majesties, my prince, it is an honor to be before you once more. My father sends his best and as a token of friendship, he offers you his ring of nobility.”
Na’era’s voice is soft like a gentle afternoon’s rain. Konner notes her slender hand reach around the back of her neck as Na’era unclasps a chain that drapes itself with purpose around her neck. As she draws the chain upward, Konner’s eyes follow it until a single ring slides into view from behind her dress. Konner feels a vibration tremble down his spine as he sees the silver ring. His armor reacting to the presence of the silver Energynium with the High Kings seal etched into the side. At its heart Konner’s eyes behold an azure blue jewel which is accompanied by a chill that grips Konner’s body. The stone is a rare, thought only to exist in legend, blue Boronite stone. Konner’s mind races back to the rescue mission as he recalls Na’era mentioning the mercenaries wanted a ‘light,’ and in legend blue Boronite is known as ‘The Light of the Creator’. “That is what they wanted.” Konner thinks to himself before Na’era’s voice brings him back to the bestowment of the gift.
