Jewel of the Surf

by B. C. Johnson

  “You three might be able to help me with that actually,” Sam replied courteously, “It’s why I asked the king to hold this banquet.”

  “Anything for a Guardian of the Elements,” Osiris cooed. She was obviously infatuated. Most Gatoens had a tendency to be overly friendly when they recognized a mutually beneficial situation, much like when their common house cat cousins recognized someone who could feed them.

  Billy Bronzecog gave the woman a sassy look. “Easy with your purrs kitty cat, we won’t be able to hear the boy speak.”

  Osiris’ ears curled back as she gave Billy a scowl and Sam quickly moved the conversation along before any more altercations could arise. “I have been tasked by the Architect to find the descendants of the old Guardian bloodlines. Each Guardian should retain a piece of the Tevan Crystal and I am to collect them.”

  The ambassadors nodded in understanding. “By the beards of the ancestors, the legends are true!” Billy stated, slamming his fist on the nearby table. “I’ll send word through the clans as soon as I can. The dwarves will not dally with this request.”

  Sam nodded appreciatively. “As will the Gatoen Alphanium, I will have a report sent by messenger to you as soon as I can gather some leads,” Osiris stated, cooling herself with a decorative hand fan made of papyrus.

  Valen nodded with them. “I have no doubt the Elder Mother knows where our shard lies. I will confer with my superiors on the matter.”

  Sam was almost giddy, but conducted himself professionally. His task was finally making more headway. “Thank you ambassadors, you have been a great help to my cause.”

  “Now go! Enjoy yurself bubba, this party is fur you after all. We’ll talk business when we have somethin for ya,” Billy winked, shoving Sam towards the dance floor.

  Sam bowed thankfully to the three of them and they each bowed in return. For the first time in weeks Sam was finally beginning to relax. He walked the room, shaking grateful hands of Senators, speaking with the Cortendale representatives on plans to rebuild the valley, and even enjoying some of the cuisine with David and Ahtash. The dragon had been getting a lot of attention, being the first of her kind to make a public appearance in a few generations. Most were happy to meet her, amazed by her humanoid form and to hear that an entire brood was now settled in Tuckerville. Many senators and nobles even pledged to send money to aid in their settlement.

  Minerva moved to stand beside Persephone, the blonde haired elves nodding in recognition towards each other. “Minerva, how fares the magical tower?” Persephone asked politely.

  “Magical as ever, although Gladius will blow it up with one of his experiments someday, mark my words,” Minerva joked.

  Persephone smiled politely, the stoic elf’s icy features always tough to crack. Minerva cleared her throat as she moved closer to Persephone, the both of them watching the dance floor. “I stumbled on to something you might want to know,” Minerva whispered. “I haven’t told Valen yet because I wanted you to be the first.”

  “What would be so important to keep from the Ambassador?” Persephone whispered back.

  “Dinaer. He’s here in Lochmare,” Minerva answered.

  The color disappeared from Persephone’s face, as pale as it was before being elvish, it was ghost white at hearing the news. Dinaer? Here? “Impossible,” Persephone denied, “Dinaer died… some twenty years ago.”

  “That’s what I thought too,” Minerva agreed. “But I met with him, and his sister. Poikaer is injured; I’m trying to find her some help.”

  “Where?” Persephone asked.

  “Whitespell Manor.”

  Persephone said nothing further; she started moving towards the stairs with her sparkling red evening dress flowing around her. If Minerva’s words were true, she would see it with her own eyes.

  Sam was in the middle of a conversation with one of the king’s accountants about how the food distribution was going when Regent’s bronze staff echoed through the ballroom once again. “Announcing Miss April Aidyn of Cortendale,” He said loudly.

  “April?” Sam asked allowed, making his way to the stairwell. What awaited him was something he had never imagined he would ever gaze upon.

  April descended the staircase in a beautiful dark red dress with intricate white and green lacing. The dress carried a small train behind her and it was apparent she was wearing high heels underneath as she took each stair carefully. Her sleeves hung at the cuffs nearly to the floor, and her squared collar helped dignify her neckline and draw attention to her face that surprisingly was covered with a light layer of makeup and mascara. She wore beautiful diamond earrings and as always her mother's locket dangled from her neck. The rogue’s hair was freed from the French braid she usually wore and had been curled and styled. She looked positively radiant.

  When April reached the bottom of the stairs, she was greeted by Sam’s awaiting arm and she looped hers into his as he escorted her across the ballroom. “You clean up nice,” Sam whispered to her as the quartet played and the audience murmured to themselves on how pretty April looked.

  April caught a glimpse of Haven standing next to her brother and David, giddy with excitement. It had been Haven who had chosen her hair, makeup, and dress for the evening, fighting with April every step of the way. Ultimately the rogue had given in and let Haven work her girlish magic on her. At the end of the day, April had to admit that the golden haired healer had done a great job. “Thanks,” April stated dismissively.

  “I mean it, I never thought I’d see the day when April Aidyn put down her blades and put on a dress,” Sam chuckled.

  “Oh I’m armed…” April said lifting up her sleeves, revealing twin daggers clasped to the inside of her arms in leather gauntlets. “…quite literally.”

  Sam shook his head and laughed. “Well, getting into a dress is still a huge accomplishment for you.”

  “Yeah well don’t get used to it,” April grumbled, still having difficulty with stepping on the dress with her high heels every so often.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Sam said as he looked into her emerald eyes. “I prefer April Aidyn just the way she is.”

  April blushed and turned away from Sam’s face, brushing one of her bangs behind her ear. Sam reached forward and brushed the other bang away for her, the two of them staring intensely into each other’s eyes. April finally cleared her throat awkwardly and looked towards the dance floor. “Um… dance?” She asked, knowing full well Sam would never dream of embarrassing himself in front of all these people.

  Sam thought for a moment and then smiled. “Sure,” He said much to April’s surprise.

  He escorted her out onto the hardwood floor as the other dancers seemed to melt away and all eyes trained onto them. April’s confidence began to wane as she felt very vulnerable as Sam took her hand and placed his other on her waist. “Sam, everyone’s looking…” She whispered.

  “Let them,” He replied.

  The two started to dance around the floor to the upbeat music the quartet was playing. Their steps were in balance, their movements in perfect complement with each other. To spectators it looked as if the two had been practicing this moment for months, when in actuality Sam and April were just in tune with one another. They were linked; anyone with eyes could see that. The music’s tempo slowed and the two converted their dance from a waltz to a circle in the center of the dance floor. Other couples began to return to the hardwood floor, but to Sam and April they were still the only ones in the entire room. They stared at each other, their foreheads beading sweat, their lungs taking in gulps of air. Sam could feel her breath on his lips and took in her scent. It smelled of leather and steel, the smell of the Aidyn’s family smithy, the smell of home. It didn’t matter how much she tried to hide it with fancy clothes, make-up, or perfumes, he could still catch hints of her familiarity. It was still the April he knew and loved. She was the constant. She had always been there for him, always been at his side. At that moment, on that dance floor, he didn’t want to eve
r be without her. Could this have been what she eluded to in the bear cave earlier? An emotional connection. That she felt the same way? Would she still take him if he offered? He didn’t even know how to start the conversation. “April, I…”

  April looked at him quizzically, as if she was hanging on every word of what he was about to say. “Yes Sam?” She asked.

  “I wanted to tell you…” Sam started.

  A shaking of Sam’s shoulder pulled his attention away from the beautiful auburn haired girl in his arms and to Nathaniel dressed in a formal uniform with a hand on him. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s a problem,” Nathan stated embarrassed.

  Sam was dumbstruck; his mind was still trying to figure out what he was going to say to April. The auburn haired girl stepped forward for him, “What’s wrong?”

  “The Chipowi Guards won’t let Ashtock into the banquet; it’s starting to get violent,” Nathan stated more to Sam than April. “If you don’t come calm him down right away, there may be bloodshed.”

  Sam nodded and Nathan began to lead him out. Sam gripped onto April’s hand as he walked a few paces after the major, looking back as if asking permission from his dance partner. “Go,” April said, releasing Sam’s hand with an understanding nod.

  The two men started walking towards the staircase, April left alone in the middle of the ballroom. Sam spared one last look at her beauty at the top of the stairs before he left out the large entry doors and into the garden. The words he was to speak were forgotten, their moment passed. Sam hoped he would get another chance.

  * * *

  Dinaer sat in a chair next to his sleeping sister in the master bedroom. He drifted in and out of sleep, waking every few minutes because of the dreams. The door creaked and in a flash he was up with an arrow notched into his bow string and aimed at the door. He almost loosed the arrow if it had not been for the sight of golden blonde hair and a sparkling red ballroom dress. “Persephone!” He said in surprise.

  The female elf entered the room carefully, clasping her hands in front of her and bowing respectfully. “Heruamin (Milord),” She said, her voice quivering.

  Dinaer could tell she was upset; the sight of her again unnerved him beyond his understanding. Her eyes were tearing up and he could tell it was taking every bit of her strength not to run across the room at him. To what end? He wondered. To hit him? To kiss him? To make sure he was really in front of her? There was a long silence between them, though they were on opposite ends of the small room it felt as if there were miles apart. “Minerva told me you were here. I thought you were dead…” Persephone said.

  Dinaer nodded. “As it should have been.”

  Tears started to stream out of Persephone’s eyes. “As it should have been? Were you so afraid of marriage that you would have rather died than spend an eternity with me at your side?”

  “I would rather be dead than to make you suffer with my mistake,” Dinaer retorted. “You deserve better than me…”

  Persephone walked closer to him and placed a hand on his cheek. She did not cringe away from his eyes, did not draw back in disgust as so many did. “I deserve you.”

  Dinaer shook his head away, ashamed to look at her beautiful angular face. “I am a monster. Twisted and broken,” He said, staring at the wall.

  “Because of what Cain did to you? Oh if I could take that pain away I would in a heartbeat,” Persephone argued, reaching for him. “I wish I could have taken your place, I wished that a thousand times while your sister searched for you.”

  “You should have moved on, you should have loved another,” Dinaer said.

  “A’maelamin (My beloved), amin mela lle (I love you),” Persephone argued. “I always have, I always will.”

  “Even though I am shunned? My own people ashamed to look at me. The evil in these eyes,” Dinaer asked.

  "They just don't understand,” Persephone countered. "We all wanted to help, but didn't know how.”

  “For so long, I endured. The only thing that kept me alive through the decades of torture, the only thing that stayed my life from ending was the hope of returning home!” Dinaer yelled. “What do I get when I return? Stares, whispers, fear.”

  “Not from me!” Persephone yelled back.

  Poikaer stirred and moaned, disturbed by the yelling. Persephone noticed she did not move her legs and caressed her hand with care, trying to calm her. “What happened to her?” She asked.

  “A succubus, one of Cain’s henchmen, did this to her,” Dinaer said, walking towards the window and looking out upon the city.

  “She needs to be taken to Lorie, she can heal better there in the glow of the ether,” Persephone persisted.

  Dinaer crossed his arms and continued to stare out the window. Persephone sighed. “There is so much anger in you, so much hate. You have changed… where is the Dinaer I once knew? The strong, courageous, kind hearted one who would do anything for those he loved? Including storming the stronghold of Morier (Dark One).”

  Dinaer turned his head towards her. “He is no more. I am all that remains.”

  Persephone moved towards the door, tears falling from her eyes once more. “If he should ever return, I will be here…”

  The elven maiden left the room and out the front door to the manor. Dinaer watched her as she disappeared into the candlelit streets. “Vanimle sila tiri, Mela en’coiamin. (Your beauty shines bright, love of my life),” He said softly to himself, a single red tear flowing down his cheek. “Amin hiraetha (I’m sorry).”

  * * *

  Ashtock was surrounded by a cluster of Chipowi Guard trading punches with any who came too close. The mammoth fists impacting flesh sounded like explosions in the palace gardens, causing guests and servants to run screaming away from the scuffle. “Ashtock wait! Stop fighting!” Sam called.

  “When I am not surrounded by traitorous dogs!” Ashtock boomed back.

  “Arrest the savage!” The bald headed Ayawamat ordered.

  Ashtock again knocked three guards away, standing bloody and as fierce as a wolf backed into a corner by hunters. “Stop it all of you! Can’t you see he’s one of you?” Sam stepped between them and Ashtock.

  “Stand down Captain. He’s one of our group,” Nathaniel ordered.

  “I do not take orders from anyone but General Sillis and the Grand Cleric!” Ayawamat barked back. “Now arrest that savage!”

  Sam withdrew Windrider, its singing blade hummed across the tense air and almost seemed to spark. The Chipowi drew back, withdrawing their own blades from their backs as their captain stepped forward. “Tread lightly boy, for you are about to declare war on the church!”

  “I’ve no quarrel with the Followers, just with a few hypocritical members.” Sam stated back.

  “I will not stand for such insults from a pagan!” The captain charged forward.

  The battle was stopped before it could begin. A loud explosion rocked the ground and a tower of smoke could be seen from the direction of the ballroom. “That came from the banquet!” Nathaniel yelled.

  “Cain!” Sam yelled back.

  Ayawamat motioned for the other Chipowi to respond to the incident. He looked down at the human with sword still in hand. “This is not settled, human,” The Captain threatened, and then he too ran off in the direction of the ballroom.

  Nathan rejoined Sam and Ashtock and pointed for them to follow. “Come on, we need to get back before it’s too late.”

  ***

  The ballroom was in complete bedlam. The east wall had collapsed and in the hole that now stood there was a dragon, but not the kind similar to Ahtash’s brood. This dragon was twisted. Black scales encompassed its exterior with the exception of its bone structure, which was on the outside rather than the inside of its body. It snapped its massive jowls at the assembled guests who fell over each other trying to escape the ballroom. A platoon of Cain’s soldiers leapt from the troop carrier on the dragon’s back and started running after the guests, but were held firm by the line of Chipowi
Church Guards and Lochkary Soldiers that now encircled the security breach. Riding on the dragon’s head was none other than Lilith in full demon form. There was no arguing her existence now. She had a scar along the left side of her face where Poikaer had cut her, stitches holding her cheek together.

  Sam, Nathan, and Ashtock entered the room with difficulty, trying to move through the crowd of panicked party guests. Bodies lay strewn about the floor, victims of the explosive entry of the dragon or the soldiers who had attacked in quick succession. The men joined the fight against the onslaught of Cain’s marauders, slashing, ducking, stabbing, and dodging. Sam was struck a few times and quickly remembered he was without armor or shield. He was almost thankful when Lilith raised her hand and the invaders took up a perimeter around the dragon. “Ah! Guardian of the Wind! It’s so nice of you to join us. I was not invited to your little dinner, so we thought we’d crash it!” The demon held up a red vial of a mixed concoction from her belt. “My master would like a word with you.”

  The succubus threw the vial towards the floor, which exploded into red smoke and started to boil through the hardwood like a twisted red acid. Soon a boiling pit of red oil was seething and bubbling in the middle of the room, casting red clouds of smoke and vapors towards the ceiling. Everyone close to the pit started coughing and a putrid stench of sulfur mixed with burned flesh cast across everyone in the room. A circle of guards and party guests backed away from the pit as an image started to appear in the smoke. It was a small figure, probably only five and a half feet tall. It wore a black cloak and hid its face under its hood. It held a cane in one silver gloved hand but it didn’t seem to need it much, often using it to readjust its footing as if he was nursing a fragile knee. What struck Sam immediately were the figure’s eyes. The familiar red hate filled eyes pierced through the blackness from under the hood and Sam knew precisely who he was looking at. “Cain,” He said aloud.