Elves of Irradan

by RG Long

  "Please complete the task assigned to you," he said. "I'm sure your presence won't be needed aboard."

  Rophilborn looked from Coriander to Evelyn and nodded in agreement.

  For the span of a breath, Evelyn looked quizzical. She then saluted Coriander, bowed to the emperor, and made her way back to Lone Peak.

  With malice showing on every part of his face, Cedric motioned to his ship.

  "After you," he said, obviously enjoying the look of utter bewilderment on Coriander's face. "General."

  CORIANDER STARED AT the three prisoners the priest had brought on board. A woman, a Wood Walker, and a female elf who looked like she belonged to neither the Empire of Enoth nor of the forest elves.

  "What wrong have they committed?" he inquired. "For what reason are we holding them behind bars?"

  The Emperor stepped forward and considered them.

  "They are spies," he said simply. "They seek to undo all that which I have planned. Their meddling would take us many years to recover."

  Coriander looked at the three of them and felt pity. One lay unconscious on the floor. She was the obvious Wood Walker. The other two sat grim faced against the wall and stared back at them determinedly.

  "We are no spies," the woman with dark, short hair said.

  "Just this morning, you told the House of Nobles, in my presence, that you had gone to seek the Wood Walkers and their counsel," Cedric said. "You would cause disunity between the empire and its new friends in Darrion."

  Coriander did not like the inflection Cedric used on the word 'friends.'

  "We are inhabitants of Ruyn and only seek peace between peoples," she replied.

  Coriander could tell this was no ordinary warrior. Something about her seemed regal. She was too proud to be a simple knight.

  "Peace will not sustain us," Rophilborn said.

  He turned away from the three prisoners and walked towards the stairs.

  "From Ruyn, you say?" he asked without looking at them. "You have all that you need on Ruyn."

  "War and demons," the dark-haired woman replied bitterly.

  "Maybe so," Rophilborn said with a sniff. "But also food, water, grain, and wood."

  He turned to face them again.

  "These are what we lack here. The people of Darrion have enough to keep a few of our cities going for just a season longer. We need far more than our riches can buy. We need the forest."

  Rophilborn took several steps towards the cell.

  "Our cities grow and prosper and I will not see my people live in poverty. The empire of Enoth once spanned this entire continent. I will reclaim what was taken from us and see our glory restored to its fullest height. I will have my people inherit the life that was promised to them by our ancestors. I will take the woods from elves who would rather worship trees than see them put to a higher purpose."

  "Reclaiming cities takes armies. Armies need food. We have come to get the sustenance we need. A hundred years ago we reclaimed our lost cities to the south. It has taken all of our resources to do so. If we are to reclaim our inheritance, we need more."

  Coriander was looking hard at his emperor. He had participated in the rations, even helped write the plans for them. He hadn't known that they were in such dire straits. Coriander couldn't bear that they were his people's own fault.

  "You would rather see an entire race of elves die before amending the damage we have caused? If we are the root of the problem, why can it not be us that solves it, rather than make it worse?"

  Rophilborn turned towards Coriander and stood up straight.

  "General, you have faithfully served me for hundreds of years. You have trained my men and led us in victory against those who would have sought to rise up against the might of their own people. You will not now abandon your emperor in his time of greatest need, will you?"

  Coriander was beyond words.

  How could he have been so blind to what the emperor was doing? How could he now call an elf his ruler, with whom he disagreed with so completely?

  The wars to the south had been his greatest achievement. He had thought he was reunifying a nation, not enabling the destruction of others.

  He stood up as straight as he could and looked into the eyes of the emperor he had thought to be the gracious ruler of Enoth and saw, instead, a tyrant. One who would willingly throw away others who stood between him and his goal.

  "I cannot call one who is unwilling to sacrifice for the good of his own people my emperor."

  The pain in his back was immediate and fierce. The sharp pain of the knife plunged deep into him. He felt all the air escape his lungs at once. Above the place the assassin had buried her poisoned knife, a blade found what hers had not. At once, Coriander knew it was Cedric's blade that had cut him. He reached behind him futilely, seeing blackness encompass him.

  “Then what use are you?” the priest whispered in Coriander's ear before removing the knife forcefully. The general could feel his blood escaping his body in hot waves.

  The woman behind the bars let out a yell of rage.

  Coriander, the greatest of elven generals, fell to his knees. With his last dying breath, he heard the voice of his emperor speaking over him.

  "You are wrong, my oldest friend," Rophilborn said with a true tone of regret in his voice. "I am willing to sacrifice much for the elves of Enoth."

  39: A Bossy Little Thing

  Blume watched the procession of priests and her friends walk away from the coffee shop. She had done her best to hide when Wisym had shoved her out of the door, knowing something must have gone horribly wrong.

  She was now torn between going into the shop to check on the family, running straight to Holve and Ealrin to tell them what had happened, and following her friends to make sure they were alright. She wanted to do all three at once, but knew she must decide quickly because time was something she could not get back.

  Blume had almost decided to run after them and figure out how to get a message back to Ealrin and Holve when she saw Tory, Gorplin, and the halflings making their way to the house, empty-handed.

  "It's not my fault you left your moneybags at the house, short legs!" Tory was shouting at Gorplin.

  Blume threw herself at them.

  "Tory! Gorplin!" she shouted. "Stop fighting and listen. Teresa and Wisym and the two Wood Walker's got taken from the house. I don't know what happened. Jurrin, go check on the family, make sure they're okay. Tory, Gorplin, go find Ealrin and Holve and tell them Teresa and Wisym have been taken. Jurgon..."

  Blume turned to the halfling she had been spending so much of her time with since coming to Lone Peak and had come to trust greatly.

  "I need you to come with me."

  Three of the group stared at her with wide eyes. Tory's mouth hung open slightly.

  "Taken?" he repeated.

  Blume let out a grunt of frustration.

  "We don't have time to sit here! Come on, move it!"

  Still they stood, rooted to the spot.

  "Wait," she said, looking back at them. "You believe me, right?"

  For a moment, she thought she would have to argue with them, convince them that what she said was true. All the while, she knew that Wisym and Teresa were being taken further and further away, perhaps shoved in a warehouse somewhere. It would take ages to find them if they didn't leave right now.

  "Yep," Jurrin said, hoisting up his belt and preparing to follow Blume.

  That was all she needed.

  Hoping that the others would follow suit and believe her words, Blume ran off in the direction she had seen Teresa and Wisym being led with Jurgon at her heels.

  IT WASN'T DIFFICULT to spot the group leading Teresa and Wisym away, dressed as they were in their orange robes. Blume made a point to stay far back enough to run if she needed to, but just close enough to keep them in sight. The group continued down the stone steps of Lone Peak until they reached the docks at the cliffs below. Further along they went, until they arrived at the very last Enot
h ship, the strangest of all the elven vessels that had sailed here.

  Blume cautiously watched as the group was led to the ramp of the ship.

  Then Teresa broke free and began to attack at the same moment Wisym did. It looked like they could break free, but then the fighting stopped. Blume could see that one of the priests, the tallest of all the group, had grabbed one of the robed Wood Walkers. Teresa and Wisym put down their weapons. Blume was trying to figure out how she and Jurgon might get close enough to cause a disruption, when she heard painful yells coming from the group.

  The priest was pushing a limp body off the dock while the others forcibly moved Wisym and Teresa and the other Wood Walker onto the ship.

  Blume was starting to panic. She couldn't let her friends be captured or killed and not do anything. She had just determined to run straight at the ship without a plan when two elves ran past her, nearly knocking her off the docks herself.

  Jurgon's quick hands grabbed her and pulled her back away from the water. She had almost no time to recover from this when she saw the elf Emperor himself walk by with several guards and Nobles at his side.

  Things were getting out of hand quickly.

  "I can't do this by myself, Jurgon," she said.

  She strained her neck looking around the crowded docks and above their heads until she saw it: their ship.

  "You go get Felicia and Urt and tell them what's happening."

  She looked at Jurgon for a breath, remembering whom she was talking to.

  "Really tell them," she implored. "They need to know everything we saw. I'm running back up to find the others. I'll meet you on the boat."

  Jurgon nodded and sped off. Blume looked back at the ship the priests had taken Teresa and Wisym on just in time to see the Emperor and Nobles board.

  They were running out of time.

  SHE WAS ALMOST BACK to the coffee shop when she saw Ealrin, Holve, and the others walking down the street in her direction. She ran straight to Ealrin.

  "Teresa and Wisym have been taken by the crazy priests from Enoth!" she managed, so out of breath her sides were aching. "They just got them loaded up on their ship!"

  Tory was the first to speak.

  "See?" he said to Holve. "The same thing she told us! Well, except being put on an elven ship. That part is new..."

  "What happened?" Ealrin asked.

  Blume was beside herself as she quickly explained what she saw, knowing that each moment mattered. She spoke in-between gasps of air that burned her lungs.

  "Then I raced up here for you!" she finished. "You've got to come! Quick!"

  She gulped fresh air as she looked from Tory and Gorplin to Ealrin and Holve. They seemed to be speaking to each other with only their eyes. She needed them to believe her.

  Ealrin took a breath.

  For a moment, she could hear him saying she should be careful. That they couldn't rush into thinking this was what it looked like. For what seemed like a terrible eternity, she feared he would say she had to be safe and to wait while they checked things out. But it wasn't what he said at all.

  "Lead the way, Blume," he said as he loosened his sword in its sheath on his back.

  For the second time that day, Blume practically flew down the stairs to the docks. This time, however, her heart was lifted because her companions were with her.

  Even Ealrin.

  Not even Tory's comment of, "Bossy little thing sometimes," couldn’t dampen her spirits. Maybe there was even enough time to save Wisym and Teresa.

  40: The Difference in Prisoners

  “Have you ever given thought to immortality,” the elven emperor said through the bars of their cell.

  Teresa couldn't know what direction they were heading, but she did know their vessel had left the docks and was now sailing away from Lone Peak.

  They were prisoners with no feasible means of escape.

  She desperately wanted the open sky above her instead of the dank, wooden ceiling that was the floor to the next level up. Sailing had never been her strong suit.

  “Only fools think they can cheat death,” she replied more harshly than she meant. Then again, what good would come from pretending that she could see eye to eye with this elf and his crazed priests?

  “And only humans think they understand all of life's complexities,” he said back to her.

  Her anxiety was mounting.

  “Yeah, well, when you've only got so long to live, you tend to rush to find out things or trust what others have spent their lives trying to figure out.”

  Rophilborn simply considered her for a moment.

  The sway of the ship made Teresa wish for the comfort of holding onto one of the prison bars or the wall behind her. But her stubbornness to appear strong was winning out over her desire to steady herself.

  She would not betray weakness to this elf or his subjects.

  He turned from Teresa to Wisym. Elen was still on the floor, unconscious even as she moaned in pain.

  “And what of you, friend of humans?” he asked the elf from Ruyn.

  “Long life has taught me only to value the lives of others and live the one granted to you well,” she said, not meeting his gaze.

  Teresa considered her words a veiled attack on the emperor, who apparently cared little for the lives of even his close friends. The body of the elf he had called his closest friend had been dragged away only moments ago.

  “The Empire of Enoth has long since held a secret,” he said, pacing the cramped space available to him outside of the cell. "One which we are not loath to tell such commoners like yourselves, but one we are willing to sacrifice anything to achieve."

  Rophilborn stood considering for a moment.

  "I will have what is best for my people," he said, as if coming to a conclusion of great magnitude. "And I will do what it takes to watch that dream realized."

  He nodded to four guards who stood nearby. They saluted. Two of them drew bows and pointed them directly at Teresa and Wisym's heart.

  "Back away from the Wood Walker, then stay against the wall."

  Begrudgingly, Teresa and Wisym obeyed. They shared one quick glance, knowing whatever would come of this would not bode well. Once against the back wall, Teresa stared hard at Rophilborn. He looked back, seemingly unconcerned.

  "I would not move, if I were you," the emperor said.

  The other two guards, with impressive speed, opened the cell and dragged the still unconscious Elen out of it.

  While one guard sat the elf at Rophilborn’s feet, the other locked back the cell.

  Chains were produced and hung around a rafter. Elen was hoisted up so that her wrists were shackled to the chains and her body hung limply from the cuffs.

  Rophilborn took a step towards her and examined her for a moment.

  Aside from the blows she had received from their previous fight, Elen's body still looked as physically fit and capable as it had in the woods. Since her robe was still in the prison cell, only her strange floral clothing covered her body.

  The emperor spoke a word while reaching out towards Elen and her eyes fluttered open with a gasp. She found her footing and began to sway with the effort of standing.

  “Why didn't you do that before?" Teresa asked him, accusingly.

  Wordlessly, one of the guards resumed pointing his bow at Teresa. Rophilborn spoke no words to her in reply, but rather directed his attention to the revived elf.

  “I want to discuss," he said, “our ancient heritage.”

  With a word, the crown on his head began to glow and emit a very pale blue light. Teresa could see him mouthing words under his breath, but could not hear them.

  Elen's screams drowned out all other sounds.

  The light faded and the emperor's mouth stopped moving. Elen's body still convulsed and Teresa could tell that the elf was not holding herself up on her feet. She hung limp from her chains.

  "That was only a small taste of my power," he said. "If you desire to feel my wrath in full, by all mean
s, hide the truth from me."

  Teresa could sense power in the air remnants of whatever spell Rophilborn had cast upon Elen. She could see beads of sweat pouring down from the elf, though her face was turned away.

  "Where is Shalafandra?" he asked her.

  A cold impassiveness covered Rophilborn's face as he looked at Elen. She said nothing. Again, his crown glowed blue and again Elen's screams filled their space. Her body writhed in pain.

  The light faded and Rophilborn took a step away from her.

  "You know my question," he said with a tone of finality. "I shall ask again in the morning. Guards."

  Four armed guards appeared at the end of the hall and saluted him.

  "See that the two in the cell are given the best food the ship has to offer," he said. "The Wood Walker is to receive nothing.”

  He said this while observing Elen as one would look at an ugly stray dog, sick and unwanted.

  “Perhaps hunger may encourage her agreeableness. If one of those attempts to give her food, their punishment is death."

  Without another glance at the three prisoners, the emperor of the elves ascended the stairs at the other end of the ship. Teresa narrowed her eyes at his back as he left.

  Underneath fine clothes and the veneer of kindness, she could sense one thing clearly.

  An evil heart kept this emperor moving towards his goal.

  41: New Plan

  Ealrin was the first of their company behind Blume. He probably felt the most uneasy as well. Blume had, once again, gotten herself into something that was far beyond her. He was grateful, at least, that she hadn't snuck on board the ship and attempted to save the four herself. Well, three now, he thought.

  As they ran down the docks toward Urt and Felicia, they found them looking at them, bewildered. They had just exited the vessel and looked to be preparing for supplies.

  Instead, they got their whole company at least an hour or two earlier than they expected. The suns weren't yet at midday.

  “What's going on?” Felicia asked. “I've never heard so many words from this one.”