Moonshadow

by J. D. Gregory

  “I had planned on fitting her with a thrall ring upon our return to the university, however, the attack on our lives, and the subsequent journey home, didn’t allow for it.”

  “I see,” the elven lord replied. “Then you will not find it an inappropriate request to place the ring on the girl in our presence. Such an act would clear you of all accusations concerning your questionable relationship with the Tanar, Diana Selene.”

  “As you wish, my lord,” Darien replied to the request.

  Diana wanted to protest but kept silent. The last thing she wanted was to be a glorified slave, but she’d had her chance to walk away. Miri had warned Diana and she’d chosen to stay by Darien’s side, come what may. Only now, though, did Diana truly understand what her decision meant—she would stand by him as nothing more than his pet human.

  Darien reached inside his jacket and pulled out a silver bracelet. Diana would have thought it beautiful if she didn’t know it for what it was—a slave’s collar. He held the bracelet in the palm of his hand and closed his eyes in concentration. In moments, the ring started glowing softly as small blue lights appeared on the metal and began to move along the circumference, engraving mystical runes into the bracelet that filled it with magical purpose.

  When they stopped, Darien opened his eyes and took Diana’s left arm gently in his free hand. Before the eyes of everyone present, including the shadowy visages of the elven council members, Darien clasped the bracelet around Diana’s wrist. Her heart echoed with a small wave of energy as the ring closed and she knew they were now inextricably bound to one another. Lifting her wrist before her eyes to inspect the ring, Diana saw no sign of where the two metal ends had met a moment ago.

  She could never take it off.

  “A slave never had such a beautiful collar,” Diana muttered sarcastically to herself.

  “It’s a better fate than what Barakas had planned for you,” Peridor replied, having overheard her comment. “I would be grateful, if I were you, Miss Selene. Many Tanarai have not been so fortunate.”

  His words of warning did not fall on deaf ears. Diana knew full well that she could have just as easily not left the clearing alive. “Forgive me, Lord Peridor,” she said with a bow, recalling Barakas’ words. “In your wisdom, I thrive.”

  Even though his body could be anywhere on the planet, Diana could almost feel Peridor smirk with amusement. “The matter is now settled and this Council is adjourned. May the balance be restored and the Fallen, and their children, know peace eternal.”

  The shadows faded and the emerald and purple flames quickly died down, extinguishing in a plume of smoke.

  “You may have convinced the Council,” Terra said, breaking the silence. “But I am far from accepting of your story, Endymion.”

  “Why do you even care so much?” Diana asked her, now quite perturbed. “What business is it of yours what kind of relationship we have?”

  “Endymion and I have been dear friends for nearly two centuries, girl,” she said, seething with anger. “We have been through many tribulations together and I will not see his life thrown away on some dangerous infatuation with a Tanar.”

  “Are you in love with him?” Diana demanded to know flat out. Darien closed his eyes and began to fidget uncomfortably. He obviously wished she hadn’t asked that particular question.

  “Yes, I love him,” she replied. “As a dear friend and a brother—not that it is any of your concern. I lost the Love of my Soul, along with our children, long ago; your ignorant notions of romance are dead to me—as you will be if you ever mention these things again in my presence.”

  She turned to Darien. “Have your pet, Endymion, but keep her out of my sight.”

  Her feelings made quite clear, Terra left the Sanctuary. Not only could Diana feel her seething anger, even as she walked away, but she could see it as well. As Terra entered into the woods, the leaves surrounding her—already withering with the autumn—caught fire and quickly burned in flashes of flame and smoke.

  Diana stood silent. Her husband and children died.

  As much as she hated Terra, she could never wish such a thing on her worst enemy, and Diana’s heart began to soften a little for the fire mage. Diana still detested her, but at least she understood a little of her bitterness.

  “I’m sorry,” Diana said, turning to Darien. “I didn’t know. If I had, I would never have suggested...”

  Darien took her hands in his. “It’s alright, Diana,” he assured her. “What happened to Terraiyah’s family was a tragedy, but it’s no excuse for her to treat you as she did.”

  “What happened?”

  “As you heard, Terraiyah was once a Shadowstalker and the highest class of assassin. She is also one of the most powerful fire mages to come out of the eastern dominions in an Age.” Darien sighed, remembering Terra as she had been. “Being a Shadowstalker is a very stressful business—dealing death scars the soul. While she was asleep within the Veil one night, Terra’s emotions were so intense that her physical body manifested its powers and she incinerated everything within her vicinity—including her husband. The intense fire spread throughout their home, quickly making its way to the children. Terra awoke to their screams but it was too late, they had already been mortally burned. She tried everything in her power to save her young twins and almost lost her sanity.”

  “How horrible…” Diana said in a whisper. It was likely the most terrible thing Diana could imagine a person could go through. She now felt horribly guilty for hating Terra.

  “Soon after, Terra resigned from the Shadowstalkers and vowed to learn everything she could about Life magic and healing—including human medicine.”

  “Then why would she try to kill you, her supposed dear friend?” Diana asked.

  “I’m not entirely convinced that was her intention,” Darien replied. “I know how lethal Terra can be. She could have easily overwhelmed me. She was holding back to give me a chance to fight.”

  “She could’ve fooled me,” Diana said. “It’s a good thing Andrew showed up when he did, or it might not have made a difference.”

  “It wasn’t me,” Andrew finally said as he and Miri made their way towards them

  “I thought you were just trying to cover your butt before the Council,” Diana said, confused by his denial.

  “I wasn’t trying to cover up anything,” he replied with a shrug. “I was at a lecture last night.”

  “What other ice mage could have helped us?” Diana asked the group.

  “That is a true mystery, my dear,” Darien replied, clasping his hands behind his back. “One of many, I’m afraid.”

  “Could it have something to do with Flinders or the Chalice?” Diana asked.

  “Perhaps,” he replied, appearing deep in thought.

  “The Chalice of the Moon—again?” Andrew said in disbelief. “Really, Endymion? This whole thing is about your damn fool crusade? No wonder Barakas ordered your execution—Chalice quests only breed heretics like Traevion.”

  “Who apparently isn’t dead,” Darien replied, ignoring Andrew’s comments. His face became stern with resolve. “I have to find him—he needs to answer for the blood on his hands.”

  “You can’t let your soul be darkened by vengeance, Endymion,” Miri said as she gently placed a hand on Darien’s shoulder. From her troubled eyes and disapproving frown, she looked worried by his declarations.

  “It’s not a matter of vengeance, Miraena—it’s justice,” Darien replied with conviction. “The heretical ramblings of that charlatan led to the deaths of many good people who had never been a danger to the realm. Traevion must answer for those deaths.”

  “Vengeance is the dark twin of Justice, my friend,” Andrew said as he placed his hand on Darien’s shoulder to playfully mirror his twin. A wide smile crept across his face. “Let’s focus on the good—Diana isn’t dead and you aren’t agonizing in the Nightmare.”

  “I—for one—am glad I’m still among the living,” Diana spoke up.
“Before I met you people, I wasn’t too sure where I would end up when I died. Now, I’m even less sure. I’d rather face that problem in another eighty years or so.”

  The faces of the elves showed mixed emotions at her words. Miri looked shocked for some reason, Andrew smirked, and Darien looked saddened. Diana must have put her foot in her mouth somehow.

  “What?” she asked. “I was just kidding around.”

  “It’s nothing,” Darien assured her. “We just aren’t used to having close fellowship with a human. While eighty years seems like a lifetime to you, to us, it’s only a small fraction of a lifetime.”

  “Oh…” she replied. “Even if I live to be a hundred, you guys would have only aged like a decade, right?”

  Darien nodded. By his face, these sad thoughts were nothing new to him. Had he been wrestling with them from the beginning? When she looked at Darien, it wasn’t the thought of dying that made her sad, but rather, knowing that he would live on for centuries without her. Diana took his hand into hers, wanting to never let it go, and his warm smile eased her troubled mind.

  “So, when are you going to take this slave collar off me?” Diana asked, changing the subject. “It’s sort of pretty but it’ll probably chafe in the shower.”

  “I can’t take it off,” Darien said, looking a bit awkward and sheepish—like a mischievous child who hadn’t told the whole truth.

  “You’re joking, right?” She dropped Darien’s hand and stared at him. She knew deep down, though, that he would never joke about something like this.

  He shook his head. “Thrall rings are imbued with very powerful rune magic from all schools as a safety precaution. Only an Archmage has the ability to remove it, and only by decree from the High Council.”

  At his words, Diana fell to her knees as the breath left her lungs. She thought Darien, or one of the others, could always take off the thrall-ring. Now feely horribly trapped in her situation, Diana slipped her hand inside her coat pocket, searching for her treasured keepsake to clutch onto for moral support.

  Darien crouched down behind her, tenderly putting his hands on her shoulders.

  “I’m sorry, Diana,” he said. “I truly am. I brought all of this on you when you never asked for it. If you’d never met me, your life would be your own.”

  His words weren’t false.

  Diana sighed and opened her eyes, looking to the white clouds passing through the blue sky above. “Who wants normal?”

  Darien circled around Diana and pulled her hands from her coat pockets, holding them in his own. She still clutched the brooch tightly.

  “You aren’t upset?” he asked, a worried look still in his eyes.

  “Am I looking forward to life as a glorified slave? No, not really,” she replied. “But when I stepped into this clearing, I knew full well that I would either be killed or be made a thrall, eventually. My new accessory just sort of put everything into perspective.”

  “Try not to hate it,” Darien said. “It’s allowing us to be together.”

  Diana sighed in resignation. “It still looks like a collar to me. All it needs is a ball and chain.”

  “Perhaps I can do something about that,” Darien said and then took the lily brooch from Diana’s hand, gently lifting her wrist with his other.

  As he brought the brooch and bracelet together, a soft glow began to surround the two metal objects that quickly became so bright, Diana had to look away.

  “There,” Darien said when he finished. “How’s that?”

  Diana opened her eyes to inspect what Darien had accomplished, taking her hand from his to hold the bracelet closer to her eyes. The lily brooch had now become an ornamental part of the bracelet, with vines encircling the length of the silver ring. Smaller lilies decorated the length of the vines as well.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said with a smile. “Thank you.”

  Happy that Diana was satisfied with his workmanship, Darien stood up.

  “You may also consider that thrall-ring to be your formal invitation to the annual celebration of the Zen’Naphalia amongst the ruins of Qir’Aflonas.”

  “What are you talking about?” Diana asked, looking up at Darien with questioning eyes.

  He held out his hand down to her. “My lady, would you do me the great honor of accompanying me to a ball?”

  Diana took his hand and he lifted her up off the ground.

  “It would be my pleasure?” she replied, wondering where on earth this situation would take her.

  Chapter 14

  Woe to you, O murdering priests of Rome

  With your crooked rods and fine chains of gold.

  You who are but white-washed tombs filled with death.

  You shed blood in the name of the divine,

  And for that most blasphemous of evils,

  The White Wraith, will bring God’s justice upon you.

  As Diana sat in the back seat of the Rolls, staring at the wisps of gray clouds swirling in the morning sky, she wondered if it was going to snow again. The thin layer of white powder covering the flat empty fields was already melting and would be gone by the afternoon.

  After another barn passed them by along the highway, Diana couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Are we there yet?” she groaned. “We’ve been driving for over an hour and the largest sign of civilization was that random outlet mall a few miles back.”

  Darien laughed at her plight. “I’d worry less about civilization and more about digesting that book you’ve barely glanced at.”

  For a moment, Diana’s gaze fell to the book entitled Vanicar for Humans sitting on her lap. She almost nodded off again just looking at it.

  “Is this really the only grammar you have in English? It’s boring and pretty offensive.”

  Darien shrugged but looked apologetic. “It was written for the newly enthralled, what did you expect?”

  “To not be treated like a moron,” she replied, the notion obvious. She read a passage out loud. “‘A pronoun—in case you are unaware of your own language’s terms—describes a noun.’ Really? I never knew that.”

  “Bear with it,” Darien replied. “I have no doubt that in a few days you’ll have mastered our language as you have Akkadian; it’s much simpler.”

  “I’m just so bored,” Diana said, exasperated. “Where are we going again?”

  Darien just smiled and shook his head. “The sharifon stables for this region.”

  “And what exactly is a sharifon again,” she asked with a guilty cringe, knowing Darien would be annoyed that she hadn’t remembered.

  “Does your mind not register anything I tell you?” His playful demeanor was a front for the irritation that Diana could feel underneath.

  “Well, you do tell me a lot of things, you know,” she replied in defense. “Half the time, I feel like I should be taking notes in order to keep everything straight. So, my dear professor, you must forgive me the transgression of not entirely remembering what a sharifon is.”

  “Your cute attempt at sarcasm is noted,” Darien replied with smirk. “Your inequity is forgiven this time. Sharifons are kept as mounts and beasts of burden.”

  “Oh right, the griffon things created during the ancient wars—got it,” Diana interjected upon realization.

  “Exactly,” he said with smile. “We’ll be traveling by sharifon coach to the port city of Lay’Volas. From there, we’ll book passage to what your people call the Old World.”

  “Where is Lay’Volas?” Diana asked. “Do I know of it by a human name?”

  He shook his head. “It’s an island hidden by magic in the middle of a large lake to the north.”

  “How long will it take us to get there?” Being quite bored and having no desire to read the offensive elvish grammar, Diana was full of questions.

  “By coach it should take us a few hours—if the weather permits.”

  Diana sighed and returned her gaze back to the desolate farmland rolling by.

  It had been over a mon
th since Diana’s enthrallment, and even with her new permanent jewelry, life had changed very little. To be safe, she and Darien had been spending less time together, and quite frankly, Diana had been enjoying her respite from the elves, the Chalice, and her complicated romance. A nice Thanksgiving break in Indiana, followed by a couple weeks of term papers and final exams, had kept Diana steadily occupied.

  When she did have a free moment to spare, Diana went to the library and studied Flinders’ tome of Grail lore. More often than not, though, she’d pass over Foxwell’s more philosophical sections and just read The White Wraith. When Darien first read it he’d marveled at the accuracy of Charlotte’s account—in spite of her many uses of artistic license—and couldn’t believe it had escaped the eyes of the Watchers for decades. Since that particular revelation, Diana had read over her aunt’s lengthy poem several more times, and now, she could almost recite it by heart. Regardless, she still had no clue as to where the Chalice of the Moon could be hidden.

  Darien seemed fairly certain they would find the answers over the course of their journey—which had been filling Diana with excited anticipation for weeks. Getting to wear a fancy gown at a prestigious society ball would be a dream come true, though Diana had no idea what to expect since she hadn’t been able to ask Darien much about it. He’d been less than forthcoming with the answers to her initial questions, so she’d been biding her time. He seemed nervous.

  Whatever might happen on their journey, she hoped they would be back before Christmas. Diana had taken her last exam earlier that morning and was now officially on Winter Break. Her parents probably weren’t too happy about her sudden “holiday with friends,” but they could wait a bit longer to see her. She’d just been home for Thanksgiving, after all. How could Diana possibly pass up the opportunity to go to England, visit the ruins of an ancient elven kingdom, and go to a fancy ball—all in the span of a couple weeks?

  Diana continued to gaze on the white snow and smiled as it glistened from the sun shining through a break in the clouds. She began to nervously twist the thrall ring around her wrist—her apparent invitation to the ball.