by S K Smith
‘Niall!’ He heard Elle shout for him. Then he heard it, distantly he could hear the thunder of hooves pounding the ground. Someone was approaching the village. Niall dashed faster than lightning back to the square. Syren and Elle had somehow managed to shimmy Syren up against a wall, where she was now resting, Elle beside her. Niall stood before them, dropping his collection to the ground nearby, his fist firmly clenching the hilt of his sword, ready to meet the traveller. The horse was a huge, monstrously built black stallion, Niall would guess eighteen hands high, and was armoured in gold matching it’s rider. The rider was head to toe in gold, Niall felt a shiver of remembrance as he took in the stance, and the emblem adorning the golden armour. The Royal Emblem. Niall remembered seeing such armour many years ago when he bid farewell to a young and sad Princess. Niall heard Elle gasp and run to stand beside him.
‘It’s Sir Rakel! My Father’s Protector!’ She whispered excitedly. Niall had to stop himself from pointing out that Sir Rakel had not done a particularly good job of protecting the King, seeing as he had been nowhere around at the time of the King’s brutal murder. The horse was approaching ever nearer.
‘Stop!’ Niall called out confidently with his sword raised, pushing Elle back with the other hand.
‘What are you doing?’ Elle squealed.
‘I do not know I can trust him!’ Niall murmured to her, pushing her gently backwards, not lowering his sword arm.
‘Peace, boy!’ The rider called out to him, slowing and stopping at a respectful distance.
‘What business do you have here?’ Niall responded clearly.
‘I have been tracking your party for days, I am here for their Royal Highnesses,’ Sir Rakel called.
‘They are no longer here, they have left this village as you see it.’ Niall bluffed feebly.
‘Do not try to insult me, for I see young Princess Brielle behind you.’ Sir Rakel laughed, as he dismounted his stallion proudly. He walked confidently closer to them, his gauntleted hands raised in front of him in surrender.
‘I would recognise that young Elf anywhere.’ He said proudly, removing his helm and smiling kindly at her as he approached.
‘Sir Rakel would never hurt me.’ Elle pleaded with Niall. She was the happiest he had ever seen her, he face was glowing with excitement as she watched Sir Rakel approach. Niall was at a loss, this man he knew to be the same Elf that had rescued Ayda, and he was here, a typical Knight in Shining Armour to protect Elle. But something was amiss, how had this Elf tracked them for so long to now conveniently find them when they were so much weakened. He kept his sword high.
‘You are right not to trust me human,’ Sir Rakel said, ‘I know what happened at the Stone Castle, the betrayal my dear King suffered. I am not your enemy.’
‘I would not trust anyone with the Princess.’ Niall spat, the niceties had vanished. Sir Rakel growled as he drew his own sword and raised it in challenge. Niall could see the Elf was much older than he, his hair was white, and skin was slightly creased. Niall had always admired the way Elves were spared the fate of time and aged much slower than humans. Despite the difference in age, Niall disliked the odds, this Elf was wiser and heavily armoured. He would not likely win this alone.
‘I have known the Princess since she was a babe, and her Father was always my brother, I would ask how I can trust a human with one so precious to me!’
‘Stop it!’ Elle screeched, ignoring Niall’s protests she moved between them her hands outstretched. Immediately, Sir Rakel bowed down to one knee, in a gesture of obedience Niall had never seen before. Sensing the danger had passed with Brielle’s intervention, Niall lowered his sword slightly as Elle approached him.
‘I know you are trying to protect me. You must learn to trust me, as I do you. You cannot harm this Elf without harming me.’ Brielle said kindly and confidently, her eyes were blazing with emotion. This old soldier meant a lot to her, he could see. He sheathed his sword, glaring at the Golden Protector. Sir Rakel was still bowed on one knee, his sword on the ground beside him, inches from his fingertips. Niall watched carefully, his heart quickening as Elle smiled at him as she turned to approach Sir Rakel. He struggled against his own instincts, mere seconds it would take for the old Elf to grab his sword and wipe Elle from this world, he prayed he was wrong. He was too far away now to help her. Trust me, she had asked. In a world where everyone she knew was gone or betrayed, she still believed in trust. She still loved this Elf even in his failure to protect her Father. He held his breath as she bid the Protector to rise and felt relief flood his heart as he watched them embrace, as a father would embrace his child after years apart. Satisfied, he relaxed as he watched Sir Rakel lift the Princess off her feet and sweep her around in circles, both laughing with relief and happiness. Niall felt a slight sting as he remembered his own Father, he would do anything to speak with him again.
‘Sir- Sir Rakel?’ A weak voice sounded, puncturing the elation of the moment.
‘Syren?’ Sir Rakel’s face brightened with enthusiasm, then flickered when he recognised the weakness and pain. She was trying desperately to stand, but to no avail, her legs were barely strong enough to move.
‘Oh, my dear, what has happened to you?’ Sir Rakel moved to Syren’s side, Elle following miserably behind.
‘It was all my fault.’ Elle mumbled miserably, crouching down to Syren.
‘What happened?’ Sir Rakel asked again.
‘The Captain attacked the village looking for me, I fought him off, he had Ayda.’ Elle explained.
‘With your magic?’ The Protector asked quickly, Elle nodded, shocked.
‘How do you know about her magic?’ Niall demanded suspiciously. Sir Rakel sighed.
‘Of course, I knew, your Father knew you had magic.’ Sir Rakel said.
‘Why-why didn’t he tell me?’ Elle asked.
‘You were too young, and we never really knew how powerful you would become. It was better kept a secret. As you are now aware, The Elders do not take kindly to Mages.’
‘If you knew they would do this, why did you not protect her? Protect Ayda? Protect the King and Queen?’ Niall burst out furiously.
‘We didn’t think it would happen so soon. I am sorry for your Father, Princess, he made me promise to hide the Queen, to get his Queen to safety.’ Sir Rakel’s voice wavered.
‘My Mother is safe?’ Elle exclaimed.
‘Yes,’ Sir Rakel responded. ‘I thought you would know, she sent me to you.’
‘Where is she? We must go to her!’
‘We cannot go, I must get you to the Temple.’
‘Why?’
‘Because when I was young, my best friend was sent there in secret, smuggled from the city,’ Sir Rakel began, ‘He met with a Scholar at the Temple who taught him to control his gift. If we can find this Scholar, he can help you with yours.’
‘You mean my Father,’ Elle said, ‘This Scholar taught my Father to use his magic,’ Sir Rakel nodded. Syren tried to smother a whine as pain engulfed her. Sir Rakel ended the conversation, explaining that they needed to move on as quickly as possible. Together they bound Niall’s gatherings into a make-shift litter and cleverly attached wheels from an abandoned cart. Carefully lifting Syren into it, Niall admired their handiwork. The litter looked like a tiny box on wheels, complete with walls and roof, in her weakened state, they decided to make it as protected as possible. It wasn’t perfect, and her feet were dangling slightly out of it, but it would have to do. With encouragement and assistance, Elle was lifted by her Knight onto the saddle of his huge stallion, named Trojan, and she followed on as they carried Syren away from the ruins of the village. Elle looked tiny seated upon the beast, her head bobbing with each mountainous step. They moved slowly and silently, straining from the effort of pulling the litter, careful not to disturb Syren’s broken body too much.
‘Ayda!’ Elle called with glee. Finally, they were together. Ayda was flying on her horse faster than anything Niall had ever seen. He hardly c
aught a glimpse of her as she leapt from her horse and careered towards her sister smothering her with affection. She had eyes only for her sister. Theo and Karl approached soon after. Theo was sporting a bruised face, Niall noticed as he greeted his friend.
‘What happened to you?’ He asked.
‘The little Princess happened. She knocked me out when I tried to restrain her.’ Theo explained quietly.
‘You got beaten by a child?’ Niall laughed, ‘Pathetic.’
‘She has magic!’ Theo exclaimed, abashed. Elle tore herself away from her sister and jumped into Theo, apologising for her attack on him. Niall watched as Sir Rakel once again got down on one knee as Ayda recognised him. Silence followed as a resounding SMACK echoed through the air. Ayda had smacked Sir Rakel around the face. Niall leapt in to save him.
‘Where were you!’ She shrieked, her eyes flashing fire. She rounded on him again, Niall grabbed her.
‘I’m sorry Princess, I had to follow my orders!’ Sir Rakel pleaded, tears brimming his eyes, he had the good sense to stay kneeled.
‘Is that why you are here? To kill us like you killed him!’ She howled. The effort of restraining her was akin to keeping a predator from its prey.
‘No! I never killed him! I loved your Father!’
‘You left him to die! You were supposed to protect him!’
‘Ayda stop! Listen to him!’ Elle said loudly and firmly. All eyes were drawn to the small Elf.
‘We should kill him Elle, he cannot be trusted!’ Ayda hissed.
‘Yes, you should kill me, for I have wanted nothing more since leaving my King. But let me explain!’ Sir Rakel said, defeated. Ayda was still ricocheting in Niall’s arms, it was becoming increasingly difficult to hold her. Finally, she broke free, smashing Niall in the face she floored him, and ran full pelt at Sir Rakel.
‘No more,’ Elle said simply. Elle raised her hand and stopped her sister dead. Ayda could not move. Her eyes darted from Sir Rakel to Elle in horror. She was frozen mid-run like a statue.
‘I’m sorry Ayda,’ Elle whispered, ‘There has been enough hate, listen to what he has to say. Please.’ Sir Rakel repeated his explanation to the newcomers. He explained the King’s knowledge of power and how he was taught in secret by a Scholar at the Temple. He explained the King’s suspicions of Brielle, their long conversations about her power. The promise he made to his beloved friend, to protect his wife, his Queen above all else. Sir Rakel confessed his battle, he wanted to protect the Princesses but was torn between his conscience and his command. Sir Rakel expressed his remorse that one part of the King’s plan had failed. The King had planned on getting the Princesses and training Brielle himself, but had underestimated the Legion. In the end he and Sir Morcei had managed to sneak the Queen out of the City with a band of loyal Protectors. She was now safely in hiding in the Pearl Mountains with her Guard, presumed buried beneath the rubble of the Castle.
‘Mother would not have left without us.’ Elle said simply, releasing Ayda from her state. Ayda stood, watching Sir Rakel with a calculating look.
‘No. We had to slip something in her drink that night, so she had no choice.’ Sir Rakel chuckled sadly and pointed at the ghost of a bruise that had only recently healed around his eye, ‘She gave me this when she realised what I had done.’
‘As soon as she heard the Legion were still searching for you, and that you escaped the City, she sent me to find you.’ Sir Rakel finished.
‘Are we going to her?’ Ayda asked, hope getting the better of her.
‘No, I am to take you both North, to the Temple of Scholars, so Elle can begin her education.’ Sir Rakel explained.
‘No, she isn’t.’ Ayda commanded firmly. Sir Rakel looked abashed and confused.
‘Have you not heard –’ He began.
‘Yes, I have heard. The Scholars work with the Elders. I would not trust the Scholars with Brielle, and I do not trust you.’ Ayda said firmly.
‘Yes, the Scholars work closely with the Elders, but there is one that does not. The same one who trained your Father.’
‘According to you! How do I know this is not all lies!?’ Ayda demanded. Niall could understand her mistrust. She had been shocked and deeply hurt by the betrayal of the Patrol, and by the Guards of the Castle who had turned on her family. He guessed she did not want to put her faith in this Protector, for fear that this time, the betrayal would kill her.
‘I have only my word.’ Sir Rakel finished, his hand upon his heart and his head bowed. For the first time, Ayda glimpsed the litter behind them, rested on the ground. Anger flickered from her face replaced by weary curiosity.
‘What is that?’ She spat, pointing.
‘It’s Syren.’
11 – AYDA
Ayda’s heart hit the floor when she heard the name. Her temper and hatred for Sir Rakel dissipated as quickly as it had built. It couldn’t be. Syren had left them, chosen to abandon them. How had she been injured? Ayda looked to Elle, a vision of regret, and knew it to be true. Syren had come back?
“She’d been following us Ayda,” Elle whispered. Ayda took a deep breath and slowly prepared herself for the worst as she edged to the rear of the litter. Her friend was awake, but still. Her red hair was rolling across her shoulders as her chest gently shook as she struggled to breath. A weak smile flitted across Syren’s face. Her dear friend and her equal had come back, and somehow, she had been bettered. But bettered by who?
‘It was my fault.’ Elle said timidly behind her. Ayda could not feel anger. She felt a deep sorrow bubbling in her stomach. Syren had been one of the toughest fighters she had known, what had reduced her to this?
‘You lost control?’ Ayda asked.
‘No, but she did get hurt by the blast.’
‘You killed the Captain alone?’
‘Not alone, Syren helped…’ Elle mumbled.
‘You should have stayed with Theo.’ Ayda said calmly, her eyes not leaving her weakened friend, who had since dozed off.
‘I wasn’t leaving you.’ Elle said firmly. Ayda guessed that the others had left them alone. Given them time with Syren. Time to grieve. Ayda felt poison fill her mouth, time to grieve. All her life had been spent on grieving. She had no more energy for it. No more tears to shed and no more strength for the crushing weight. Her head was swimming with worry. She could not allow herself to hope that her Mother, the Queen, had survived. Ayda had learnt the hard way that there was little to hope for in this life. Life was full of loss, first her beloved childhood friend, then her Parents and now Syren. Elle had wrapped her small arms around the Soldier’s waist. Ayda peered down at her, tears were streaming from the little Elf’s eyes in sorrow.
‘You saved us all Elle,’ Ayda soothed, ‘Shed no tears.’
‘Will she live?’ Elle asked.
‘We are going to save her. Together.’ Ayda said firmly. She wanted so desperately to believe it. She would encourage Brielle to believe, yet her heart would not sing the same song. Her heart had long tired of hope and pain.
‘We should go to the Temple, like Sir Rakel says.’
‘Why? Would you not rather see Mother?’ Ayda replied, surprised.
‘Of course! But… I would only hurt her. I need to learn my magic.’ Brielle nodded sadly.
Ayda knew she was right. The idea that the Scholars could help her had appeared in her mind over the last few days. Magic was rare. But it seemed to flow through the Temple from the stories and the history that the Scholars possessed. If anyone would know about magic it would be them. If there really was a Scholar prepared to help them, who had helped her Father, then it could be a turning point for them. They were treading water, not wanting to take the plunge. Their enemies were surrounding them and were more powerful, Elle was the only one who could stand against them. They had no other option.
‘The Scholars have the best healing skills too, they will help Syren.’ Ayda agreed, deciding on their course.
‘Will the others come?’
‘
Syren and Rakel definitely. But I don’t know about the others.’ Ayda replied. She spied Niall, Theo and Karl approaching, leading their horses who had bolted during the fight. Each of them looked weighed down, with a dark cloud circling their heads. It had been a turbulent time for all of them. The humans knew nothing of their history, and nothing of Magic. These men had volunteered to protect her sister but were now out of their depth. As she now felt.
‘They helped us, you know.’ Elle said quietly, following Ayda’s line of sight.
‘How?’ Ayda replied, her eyes not moving from Niall. He still reminded her of the boy who had saved her. He was brave, playful and kind. His innocence had gone, as had hers. They were both hardened now, anchored by responsibility.
‘Karl carried you to safety. Niall refused to leave her.’
‘Leave who?’
‘Syren.’
Ayda’s eyebrows rose. Guilt flowed through her veins. She had treated him so poorly. Ayda and Syren had not trusted them from the moment they met in that barn. Niall had proved himself over and over to them, but they still refused to let him in. Niall had saved her life over and over, but Ayda still loathed him. Syren despised humans in general, it was nothing personal. But Ayda knew it was more than that for her. She was connected to Niall by a string of memories she would rather scourge from her mind. His playful kind face, reminded her of Jonas’. The realisation that Niall had protected and carried Syren to safety, pulled the veil from her mind. She had been so very wrong.
‘Where we headed then, boss?’ Niall winked at her as he approached.