Passing through the gate that allowed access beyond Higher Wall, a great stretch of fields and gardens opened to us where the throng proceeded. Up and up we all travelled, the soft grounds rising, until at last we came near the pinnacle of the hill - only to be barred at the gate. The sentinels who were posted there,were clearly outnumbered by us, yet they were armed and armoured so as to pacify a potentially rowdy crowd.
Despite my sodden state and wearisome feet, I couldn’t help but be affected by the excitement budding all around me and at length my eyes rose to the far and high reaches of Evennal’s Greathouse. The opulence and height of the building was staggering and absolutely impressive; the layout being evidence to the revolutionary minds of the architects who had long ago built it.
“Hello!”
I looked down to my right and nearly jumped back in surprise and alarm; for there, looking right at me, was Stasanda - a smile beaming on her face with her dark brown and angled eyes coming alive against the grey afternoon. I found her so staggeringly beautiful that for a moment, I couldn’t find my tongue.
“Hhhello!” I replied, unable to conceal how pleased I was to see her again. “Excited to see the Elder?” I asked her, noticing two other elvesses appear behind her.
“Yes. Yes, of course. Are you?”
“Absolutely,” I lied. “The Blademaster too. They say the closer you stand to one, the closer you are to the Whispering God.”
Stasanda’s smile widened. “Well, then why are we standing so far from the gate?” she jested, laughing at her own wit, the sound of it riveting to my ears, causing my attraction towards her to bloom like the unravelling of roses in spring.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her; her vivacious demeanour being a pleasant and completely engrossing contrast to last night’s distressed and reserved composure - which doubtless, I had still found attractive.
Luckily, I was saved from having to give a worthy retort, for Stasanda suddenly remembered those two elvesses who stood behind her. The taller one Stasanda introduced as Alardia.
“Jay,” I said back.
The other elvess didn’t move. Stasanda had to step back a few paces to introduce her.
“This is Nendia.”
“Fair to meet you, Nendia.”
The elvess looked me over with clear reservations but I didn’t allow it to bother me, for it was only Stasanda I cared to be thought of in an appealing light and just now, I believed I was succeeding.
“You remember Teegs and Lardian?” I said, taking a step back and roughly grabbing Tegerian’s coat, pulling him before me while Lardian came casually to introduce himself.
If Stasanda had forgotten my friends, I could see that Tegerian was in a mood to remind her. He came obnoxiously close to her, saying quite loudly, “Ah, the Weeping Lady. How did your meeting go?” he asked, sniggering; the rhetorical question clearly meant for mine and Lardian’s enjoyment only.
Stasanda frowned. “What meeting?” she asked, but Tegerian wasn’t going to accommodate her. Instead, he released another obnoxious laugh and turned his sight on the tall elvess, the one named Alardia.
“Fair morning to you, my lady,” he said, bowing his head, looking then at that Nendia elvess. “And to you,” he paused, staring at her. “Are you by any chance from the Nunes?”
“Yes,” said the elvess, suspiciously.
Tegerian burst into laughter once again. “I knew it!” he declared.
Next to me, Lardian introduced himself to Alardia whilst I focused on Stasanda. Shaking my head, I apologised on Tegerian’s behalf.
“We have been trying to lose him since arriving in the city, but we simply cannot seem to succeed.”
Stasanda chuckled. “Well perhaps you haven’t tried hard enough?”
There came a sudden gasp, a loud one, and then a surge of jubilation that spread through the people. It was enough to draw my attention away from Stasanda, despite how I desired to continue gazing at her. And yet, after I had looked up as all those around me were doing, I couldn’t return my gaze to her as I had planned, for way up there; high upon the balcony top of the proud Greathouse, a few people began to appear. They were black specks from where I stood; indistinguishable until the one in the front’s golden crown caught what rays of sunlight managed to seep through the grey clouds.
My mouth went wide, for I was staring at a Golden Elder - the son of the Betrayed, the greatson of the Worthy and a descendant of the Rareshades. When I turned towards Stasanda to see if she too was caught in the same wonder, I found to my utter disappointment that she was gone.
Chapter 5
The rain stopped when the sun fell. The nightsky was clear and pleasantly still, though the air was slightly crisp.
Outside the Inn, my friends and I found the street. We were protected from the cold by our furred cloaks and while we made our way around the bend of the road, arms looped, I felt a sense of pride being with ladies such as these.
“I was afraid the rain would ruin my hair,” observed Nendia in her usual lofty tones.
“I was afraid the rain would ruin the night,” replied Alardia, sounding indifferent. I had no comment to contribute as my eyes and focus were set on the people on the street.
“Do you two think there will be mindfinders watching the Market this evening?” asked Nendia.
The Market was where the three of us were headed. “Probably,” feigned Alardia, who I had come to learn was a lot more accommodating than I when it came to humouring our vain and sanctimonious Nune-elvess house-mate.
“Just imagine if the three of us feature in the Headline tomorrow!” Nendia gleamed now, adding, “This city I imagine, has never received such publicity since its inception.”
I was watching two elvesses just ahead of us walk on the other side of the road. They both looked beautiful, but it was the one wearing a tight dark velvet gown that I studied with envious eyes. The cloak she wore was sleeveless and falling just behind her knees - a new fashion trend I was beginning to take notice of.
“We’re almost there,” revealed Alardia.
“Then let us hurry,” replied Nendia.
The Market was held in anticipation of the Karnaea and it ran along Paraden Street that was lined with food and drink stalls, as well as souvenir stores. It was brought to life by the steady beat of a drum, working in unity with the subtle notes of the lyre and the flute which resonated further down.
The three of us came to a table that was displaying carved and painted figures of past Great Servants. Alardia was the first among the three of us to pick one up for examination.
“Do you think I should buy it?” she asked us, holding up a figure that was supposed to be the Brave.
“Of course you should, Alardia,” said Nendia, picking up a figure of the Great. “I think we should each buy one, in memory of today and in honour of those who have ruled us.”
Being a Nune-elvess, Nendia naturally possessed a more patriotic conviction towards the Great Servants. A patriotism that Alardia and I couldn’t at all compete with, no matter how sympathetic we were towards the Throne institution. It was this higher sense of patriotic beliefs that made the Nune-elves what they were; proud. A pride which, as a result, made them come across as imperious towards those of us who did not live in the ‘lands of the elders.’ Therefore, most who didn’t, developed a great dislike for them.
“Which one will you pick?” I asked Nendia, slightly inclined to do as she suggested, for I saw the appeal of having something to remember this night by.
“I already have carved images of the Brave,” she told me. “And the Great.” She put the image of the famous warrior-Elder back down on the table and then surveyed her other options before saying, “So, I will pick… this one.” Nendia grasped a figure that was apparently meant to be the Last Sorcerer; he who had built the Portals of Blydran and sired both the Worthy and the Unworthy.
Once Nendia had her Elder, Alardia announced, “Well, I will get the Brave,” reaching a hand inside the pouch sh
e kept in the inner pocket of her cloak. When she brought forth one copper star, she gave it to the stall owner.
“And you, Stasanda?” asked Nendia.
My eyes scanned the figures that were left, and when they fell to the Loved, I reached out and purchased it.
Venturing further along Paraden Street, making our way through the throng of inquisitive people, we found an appealing food stall and bought ourselves a small supper. I filled my plate with sliced mango and watermelon strips. The elvesses with me, chose apples and oranges.
We found a place by the pavement to eat our food and at length, watched the different elves that passed us.
“Trail-elves,” said Alardia, sitting between Nendia and me, referring to two elves with long sandy brown hair and tanned skin. One had a beard that had different coloured beads weaved within it. Later, Nendia suddenly called out, “Nune-elves,” gesturing to a couple of elvesses who walked up the road.
“No,” I said confidently. “Those two are from here. They are from Asher Rise.”
“How do you know?” asked Nendia.
“Because it’s clear that they are not from the Trails, and Nune-elves…”walk with a strut." Are fairer of skin. Asher-elves are notorious for their reservation. Look how those two keep to themselves.”
Luckily, Nendia didn’t argue my point and when it was at last time to discard our plates and venture further down the street, we each purchased a cup of wine along the way. Nendia suggested that we enjoy a puppet show that she had heard was to happen this evening.
When we found the puppet show, we found too that it was of the Elder’s campaign in the Middle Islands. When it was done, the three of us continued onwards, eyeing out the stalls we passed. All the while Nendia, clearly being the one who enjoyed the show more than Alardia and I, gasped over certain scenes that had appealed to her the most.
“I can’t believe the Destroyer really defeated the Son of the Father! And can you believe the courage of the Elder to challenge the Father of the Sun to single combat?”
“I think it is about time the Throne has triumphed over the Sun,” commented Alardia, dryly.
Alardia’s statement offended Nendia’s patriotic convictions and the look she gave Alardia made the both of us chuckle.
“Steady on, Nendy-Pendy,” Alardia teased. “Since the Son of the Father killed the Brave, the Great Servants haven’t been in any rush to face the Sun Elves again.”
“Not because they fear them, Alardia!” Nendia protested fiercely, on the verge of beginning an argument over the matter, when suddenly, a familiar voice greeted us.
“Fair evening ladies.”
I looked to my right and when I saw Jaydan standing there, my eyes went wide in surprise. His timing couldn’t have been more perfect, for I wasn’t in any mood to endure listening to Nendia justify why, in her mind, the Great Servants after the Brave, had stopped campaigning in the east.
“Hello!” I said.
“Where did you disappear to today?” Jay asked me.
Instinctively, I gestured to Alardia. “We wanted a closer view of the Elder,” I explained.
“Without even a word of fair-well?”
I smiled guiltily. “Sorry. We didn’t know how long he would have stayed at the balcony.”
Jaydan’s eyebrows arched. “Well, you would have been fine. He stood waving for a good while.”
“A good while indeed,” I replied, inspiring a smile on the elf’s face. I found his smile quite pleasant. I hadn’t noticed until now how it enhanced his good-looks.
Awkwardly, Jay broke eye contact and looked to the clay cups that were on display next to us.
“Are you thinking of buying one?” he asked.
I hadn’t the time to respond, as his friend Tegerian pushed his way between us and bowed his head.
“Weeping Lady, I greet you fairly!”
I bowed my head, smiling faintly, feeling myself becoming slightly appreciative towards the elf’s humour.
“Oh, hello there,” came Alardia, her tone teeming with a snicker. “Are you three following us?”
I saw the other friend of Jay approach, his demeanour more closed-off and while all three of them stood together looking at us, I judged Jay as the better looking; his hair long and thick, wavy and dirty-blond while his jaw was speckled with stubble, his eyes brown like mine.
“Of course, we are!” Tegerian howled, taking a step back and draping an arm around Jay’s shoulder.
“Tell them Jay-Jay!”
My eyes naturally went to Jay. He then looked at me, his mouth curving as he said very casually, “Absolutely. Who else has a laugh like yours?”
The rest of the night, the six of us saw the full extent of the Market together and when it was time to head home, we found out that Jay and his friends were also booked inside the Landa Inn. Both Jay and I found it odd that we had not come across each other during our departures and arrivals.
Inside, reaching the top of the stairs, Jay’s room slanted left wards whilst ours went right. Tegerian and Lardian bid their fair-wells, as did Alardia and Nendia. Yet when I sensed that Jay was in no hurry to follow, I found myself lingering too.
“Will I see you around?” Jay asked me.
“Yes,” I said.
He smiled, but then very strangely, he looked towards my room and frowned. “What is that?”
I turned and saw nothing. When I faced him again, I noticed that his frown had quickly changed into what looked like satisfaction.
“What is what?” I asked.
His smile widened, “Nothing.” He bowed his head. “Fair-night, Stase.”
Chapter 6
I didn’t see Stasanda for the next couple days and during that time, a feeling of discomfort began to follow me like flies to a rotting corpse. Stasanda’s face was constantly on my mind, the sound of her laugh echoing upon the winds of my memory. It was only the Karnaea that could distract me away from my desire to see her again.
Midday was upon us and it was bright with sunlight. The winds were calm and pleasant, the change of weather a striking contrast to every other day that had lead up to this one, to the point where even Tegerian suddenly looked up while a considerate frown took shape across his brow.
“So, it’s true then what they say,” he said. “The sun really does wait on a Golden Elder.”
I didn’t respond, believing that his statement was utter nonsense. Lardian kept quiet too, his eyes narrowed upon the field in front of us where two duellists raged at each other; their blunted longblades ringing out across the grounds.
“A shame elders aren’t allowed to participate in the competitions,” commented Lardian, appearing more set upon the actual event than the weather, which even now, kept Tegerian contemplative. “I would be most pleased to see what the Elder learnt in the Middle Islands fighting immortals.”
“He can compete,” Tegerian contradicted, somewhat distractedly while he looked about as if finding the smell of the air peculiar. “But only in the categories that do not threaten his sacred person.” That made Tegerian snigger, his attention now cast upon the two duellists battling it out on the dishevelled field before us. “Just imagine a Golden Elder over there singing… or dancing…” He elbowed me in the ribs while he hooted, but quickly gathered himself, jerking his head towards the combatants before saying, “but as comical as that would be,” he pointed, “that is how I wish to see the Elder compete. With blade in hand. Not flute in mouth.”
“I too want to see the Elder on the battling grounds,” I said, unable to reign in my bitterness.
“Ah,” Tegerian pouted mockingly. “Little lamb.”
I shoved him aside, only to succeed in encouraging his laughter while Lardian twisted his body to regard me solemnly, for he was seated one row below Tegerian and myself.
“Careful Jay. If anyone hears you express disdain for one of the Golden Elders, you will bring suspicion on all of us. All Adonai worshippers love those who sit on the Golden Throne. Old Way members don�
�t.”
I didn’t say anything. I just ignored Lardian and watched in silence for a good while, how the rest of the fight unfolded, my interest dulling out as the fight progressed at a vexingly slow rate. Even the other spectators were looking bored, but soon that changed when at last the fight was over and the next contestants strolled onto the battle grounds.
Two armoured elves came before the Elder’s podium, were waving at the cheering people. However, it was clear who the crowd cheered for: the Lemonstar.
The Lemonstars were a family of prestige, even on this side of the river. They were Nune-elves and ruled the city of Hillmallow in the Elder’s name, their Head bearing the title of higher.
But in addition to what power they held politically, the Lemonstars were also famed fighters; renowned for their prowess on and off the battlefield. It was seeing a Lemonstar on the lists that drew so many crowds to the Karnaea. Rumour had it that the Lemonstars were even paid to compete, just to ensure greater attendances.
This Lemonstar was the youngest of the Higher of Hillmallow’s sons. But looking at how he towered over his opponent, it was very hard to imagine him as the runt of the litter.
“Poor elf,” commented Tegerian. “To be paired up with a Lemonstar.”
“Don’t doubt the elf so quickly, Teegs,” came Lardian, seconds before the trumpet sounded and the fight begun. “That elf might surprise----- “
As quick as that, the Lemonstar demolished his opponent, disarming him and violently knocking him on his back. He was moments away from doing more damage than was necessary, before the trumpet of conclusion was sounded.
Tegerian was howling with laughter. “You were saying, Lardian?” he said, while all around us, the roar of the crowd was earth shaking.
“No doubt we will be reading about that victory in tomorrow’s Headline,” I commented, once the clamber of cheers died down. My eyes went to the many birds seen perched upon the edge of the stands and high up on the covers that shielded us from the sun. In the sky, more birds were soaring and it was safe to assume that each one was possessed by the power of the Mindfinders.
The Broken Rose Page 4