by CK Dawn
“It's you or him, Elaina,” the flaming figure hissed as he began walking toward the plateau where the horses had been left. From her place in the sky Elaina searched the plateau and saw Marcus still there, hiding in the dune grass at the edge, watching.
Clearly Falinor had seen him, and now the Master of Fire was making his way up to the plateau, burning the dune grass to cinders as he plodded purposefully toward his foe. The wounded Acolyte was on his feet as well, falling into step behind his master. The Acolyte’s only hope for life was to make it back to Altiran as soon as possible. Until then he would focus his remaining strength on defending his Master rather than seeking out the elusive Elaina.
Seeing their murderous intent, Elaina soared to Marcus’s aid. Still one with the wind, she floated between them and channeled her will against the advancing figure of fire.
The winds struck the Master of Fire and slowed his progress, but still he came onward, marching inexorably toward her and beyond, to Marcus. The sky darkened once more as Elaina brought the full weight of her fury to bear on the beach.
Elaina struck the advancing Falinor with winds that would have torn a home to shreds. The flames blew about wildly, but, fueled by the Master's energy, they continued to burn brightly. Changing tactics, Elaina turned the winds on themselves, and they whirled around the two figures. Master and Acolyte fought desperately not to be lifted off their feet by the growing surging winds.
Elaina wasn't finished—she patiently channeled the gentle breeze running off the ocean into a force that drove the two figures toward her while her own winds drove them back and toward each other.
Falinor weathered the assault, unwilling to yield an inch, but his Acolyte was not so fortunate. Wounded, weary and struggling for survival, the battered Acolyte was hurled into the flaming Master of Fire. This time the pain was too much, and his scream carried over the beach for the few brief moments it took to be consumed in the blaze.
The faithful servant had been slain by his own teacher. After a moment nothing remained but ash, and soon that too was dispersed by the racing wind.
Then without warning the winds dispersed—the sudden stillness shocked Elaina. The flames before her flickered once and then solidified until Falinor stood before her in his human form. “Do you truly think a few paltry parlor tricks will be enough to prevail over me, Elaina?” he challenged. “You are a student—I am the Master. I was communing with the elements before you were born. Even the wind, your Element, obeys my will. Yield now. Your death need not be slow nor painful. If you continue to resist I will ensure that it is both.”
Elaina studied the Master, sweat beaded on his forehead. In spite of his calm demeanor he was clearly beginning to feel his exertions. Dispersing the winds had taken a greater toll than he was letting on. Both his Acolytes were dead. Beneath his calm exterior Falinor was furious and fatigued. Taking heart, she replied, “I gave you a chance to walk away, Falinor, and now your Acolytes are dead and you will join them. Who do you think will take your place with the Five? Do you think they will offer me your chair on the Council?”
“They would never!” Falinor spat back, his voice and temper rising with the growing color in his cheeks.
“Well, they seem content to watch you burn, Falinor so I guess we'll just have to wait and see . . .” As her voice trailed off Elaina unleashed another assault. Arcane energy flew from her outstretched palm toward the Master.
Unsurprised, Falinor re-summoned his defense and the rainbow of energy cascaded off the blazing shield as it hovered in the air between them.
This time Elaina continued the assault, the lance of azure energy playing across the surface of the shield. As the two magics met there was a cackle of energies as they strove against each other—brilliant multi-hued trails of the arcane flying outward from the point of impact.
“Do you learn nothing, Elaina? If it failed last time, why bother trying this foolish assault again?”
Elaina's lips curved into a smile as she replied: “It doesn't have to breach your shield, Falinor. Every second you maintain that spell it drains you. I merely need to continue until your strength fails and the arcane energies tear you asunder as they did your Acolyte.”
“You think you can outlast me?” Falinor sneered. “You are foolish indeed.”
“Perhaps, Falinor, but I am not blind. I can see you struggling even now. Do you not find it strange that after all I have been through today I haven't even perspired? I knew something had changed within me, but I hadn't realized how much until now. I thought it was a change in the degree of my power—not in my very nature itself.”
“What are you blabbering about?” Falinor asked, clearly frustrated in his exertion.
“The energy an Astarii exerts comes from within. You store it within yourself and release it when occasion requires, to carry out your will. It is the way of our people. I remember what that was like, but it is not so for me anymore. This power of mine does not all come from within as it once did. Instead I draw it from the world around me and do not tire. Something has changed me, Falinor. I may not understand it but I know you will tire long before I ever do. When you falter you will fall.
“You were so gracious before,” she added, “in offering me a chance to express any last words. Let me return the favor now. Is there anything you wish to get off your chest before you die?”
Falinor was practically frothing at the mouth with rage. “Elaina . . .”
His words never made it out—as soon as he opened his mouth Elaina raised her left arm and swept it down before her. Lightning split the sky above before hurtling earthward. The flaming shield couldn't move to defend him, as Elaina had not relented in her frontal arcane assault. The lightning strike slammed into the Master of Fire and the damage was done. As the energy surged through his being, Falinor lost control of his incantation and his shield failed, allowing Elaina's azure lance to tear straight through his heart.
Without another word, the Master of Fire slumped to a heap in the sand, never to rise again.
Elaina sighed. Physically she might have been fine, but emotionally she was exhausted. Fighting against her own kin was heartbreaking.
Turning her back on the destruction littering the beach, Elaina went in search of her beloved Marcus.
Twelve
Three of the remaining Council of Five watched in awe as Elaina Stormborn dispatched Falinor and his minions. Waldern was the first to speak: “You were right, Vintar. Now we may have only one problem, but I think we can all agree that it is a considerable one.”
“Falinor was painful, to be sure,” replied Winara. “But a rogue Guardian who will not submit to our authority poses an even greater risk. If word of this reaches the Allfather, his response will be devastating. When Tolan rebelled against him it almost cost our people everything. If he were to think for a moment that Elaina's actions represented the will of the Astarii, we might lose everything.”
“Indeed, Winara,” Waldern agreed. “That is why we must carry word to him ourselves, before he discovers it. If we go on our own, he will at least know we are not complicit in her actions.”
“You want to tell him yourself—are you mad?!” Winara replied in an instant. “Not only would we be telling him one of our own has subverted his mandate, but we would be admitting that we are incapable of dealing with it.”
“I don't dispute that it carries risk,” Vintar said at last in support of Waldern’s proposal. “But it is certainly better than him discovering it for himself. Our only other option is to attempt to deal with her ourselves, and, well . . . you saw how that turned out for Falinor. Would either of you like to volunteer?”
Silence hung heavily in the air of the Council chambers. Vintar let it be for several moments before continuing: “No I thought not. Best to throw ourselves at the feet of the Allfather and make it clear that Elaina's actions do not represent our will. We remain as ever his loyal servants.”
“So you will go then, Vintar?” Waldern asked hope
fully.
“Oh, I think it is only fair that we draw lots,” Vintar replied. “Let fate decide who among us will go.”
“I don't think so,” Waldern answered. “You set this plan in motion without warning us. I feel it's only fitting that you see it through to its conclusion.”
“I agree,” Winara added quickly. “Next time run your scheme by us before it gets us all killed.”
Vintar looked at his fellow Council members and nodded. “Very well. Two votes against one. I will go, as you wish.”
The Master of Arcana rose and departed the chamber, across the hallway he pulled aside an ornate curtain and entered the inner sanctum of the Temple of the Elements.
In the chamber before him lay a large golden dish resting in a frame balanced on five pillars that represented the Council's respective domains. Inside the dish the Sacred Flame of the Astarii burned brightly. It had burned without ceasing since the Temple's construction, its existence symbolic of the Allfather—as long as the flames flickered the Council could rest assured that the Allfather's gaze was drawn to his people. As the Astarii watched over Creation, so too were they being watched over by the Allfather.
The flames also served as a means for the Five to commune with the Allfather. Waving a hand above the Sacred Flame, Vintar chanted, and the flames leapt and changed color in response. Instead of flickering orange tongues they burned a brilliant blue. Satisfied, Vintar sat before them, crossed his legs slowly and began to meditate, hoping to ease his racing heart.
To enter the Celestial City without the Allfather's permission was tantamount to suicide. It had not always been so. Once upon a time the Astarii walked the Celestial city freely as they went about the Allfather's business. All that had changed the day Tolan, an Astarii of great power, rose up against the Allfather. Tolan had fought boldly in the Allfather's cause and rose swiftly through the ranks. In time he had been appointed command of the Warhost of Creation. For centuries he led the Warhost to victory after victory, enlarging the borders of Creation and growing the Allfather’s domain, but in time Tolan became frustrated. With every hard-won victory the Allfather's domains expanded, but his own title and grandeur remained unchanged. Far from the Celestial City he fought ceaselessly, but he began to tire of building another's kingdom.
The furtive seeds of rebellion found root in Tolan’s heart and he turned against the Allfather, plunging Creation into a civil war that reached the very gates of the Celestial City itself. The Allfather answered Tolan's defiance and the insurrection was crushed. Despite his victory, the Allfather never forgot the betrayal of his chosen servant. Ever since that day the Astarii had continued in the service of the Allfather but were held at a distance, and not permitted the same freedoms and favor they had once enjoyed. Of all the races in creation they stood apart in power and privilege, but their privileges still rested on the Allfather’s goodwill. A commodity that had diminished of late.
Vintar wondered how the news of another rogue Astarii would be received. He had considered that his plan might come to this, but he saw no help for it and could not judge how the Allfather would react to such news.
A rushing wind filled the inner sanctum and Vintar looked up to see the flames now burning bright gold, like the burnished dish they rested in. Vintar knew the meaning well—he was being summoned to the Celestial Court.
“I guess we will soon see,” Vintar murmured. He had hoped Waldern would volunteer for the task—the Master of Earth was a talented diplomat and would have been well suited to the challenge. But Waldern's unfortunate lack of ambition served him well and he had happily let the dangerous task fall on Vintar's shoulders.
With a sigh Vintar raised his hands and opened a portal that would span the stars and carry him to the Celestial Court.
Thirteen
Vintar emerged from the portal into the Celestial Court, grand beyond measure, surpassing any edifice made by the hands of mortal men. The entire room seemed to glow with an inner light as every exquisite detail of the burnished gold fittings and motifs reflected the light of the torches that rested in golden brackets along its walls. Everywhere the symbol of the Allfather was present—a golden sun bearing the features of a human face smiling on those before it, reassuring and unsettling at the same time.
In one sense it was reassuring to think that, like the sun, the Allfather gave life to all about him. Then there was the smile—something about it had always bothered Vintar. It seemed like the grin you might see on a vagabond right after he stabbed you in the back. Possessed of a sound and calculating mind, he seldom had to feel the nagging worry of uncertainty. Today he felt the conflicting emotions weighing heavily on his shoulders.
Vintar turned toward the Throne where the Allfather sat—and startled. The elaborate high-backed throne was set into a hemisphere of solid gold polished to resemble the surface of the sun itself. But the Throne before him sat empty.
“Why have you come, Vintar?” The sonorous voice echoed through the chamber and Vintar spun and half fell, half knelt to the Allfather standing beside him—his majesty demanded it.
The Allfather stood over seven feet tall. His golden hair billowed down to his shoulders, where it met his ornate breastplate. He was dressed head to toe in elaborate white and gold plate armor of the finest craftsmanship, the image of the smiling sun shining brightly on the polished breastplate.
As always, Vintar was in awe of the being before him. He's glorious, Vintar thought as he beheld the Allfather, whose countenance seemed to glow with an inner light. Unsure that he should even be looking upon the being before him, Vintar averted his gaze.
“That is enough of your obeisance,” the Allfather said. “You are of the Five—there is no need to kneel in my presence. Stand and answer my question.”
Vintar slowly stood. “Allfather, I am sorry to intrude. I bring word concerning a matter of great import.” He searched the Allfather's face for any indication of his mood or knowledge.
The Allfather stared back, his countenance completely unreadable.
“Speak, Vintar. I wish to know what would cause you such great anxiety.”
Vintar nodded. “There is an issue with one of our Guardians. She has deviated from her mandate and neglected her duties. She grows increasingly bold in her interference with the affairs of her world. Most recently she destroyed a fleet of ships, killing thousands, in order to save a handful of souls she has developed sympathies for.”
“Why bring this to me, Vintar? Surely the Five are capable of dealing with such a matter themselves.”
“Indeed, we tried. We dispatched Falinor, the Master of Fire, with two of his Acolytes to deal with her. I regret to say they all perished in his attempt to carry out the Council's will. It appears the Guardian has grown in power, and that her abilities now surpass our understanding.”
“So you have failed and now you are here. Why, Vintar?” The Allfather’s voice rose and his questions shook the chamber. “What is it you want from me? Has it fallen to me to carry out the mandate I gave your Council?”
Vintar glanced about, afraid that his answers might anger the Allfather further. In his own realm he reigned supreme, but before the might of the Allfather he trembled as a wayward child waiting to be chastened.
“The Council wished for me to bring her rebellion to your attention, so that you would know her actions are those of an individual, actions that are condemned by our people, who remain as always your faithful servants.”
“So it is fear that brought you here?” The Allfather asked.
“No, your eminence. It was loyalty that brought me here. If it is your will that we continue our efforts to subdue her, we will do so. We merely sought to inform you of our discovery and ensure our actions are in accord with your divine will.”
“Then consider your duties complete. You may return to the Temple and attend to the duties of the Council.”
“What of the Guardian?”
“Forget her. I will deal with her myself. You may go.”
“Don't you want to know which world she watches over?” Vintar asked, a little perplexed.
“It's Meldinar, is it not?” The Allfather’s question was more a statement than a question. “Elaina the Stormborn is its Guardian, is she not?”
“Yes,” Vintar replied, surprised.
“Do you think you are the only one capable of scrying a distant world, Vintar? Do not ever believe me ignorant of what transpires in my domain.”
Vintar nodded his understanding hastily.
“Forgive my presumption, Allfather—what of Meldinar? Do you require anything of the Council?”
The Allfather smiled, the same unnerving smile worn by the sun emblazoned on his breastplate. “Appoint another Guardian—one that will do their duty.”
“And Elaina?” Vintar asked.
“As I said earlier, I will attend to her. Take no further action against her—am I clear?”
“As crystal,” Vintar replied, nodding and bowing before the Allfather.
The Allfather raised a hand and a golden gateway materialized before Vintar. The Temple of the Five Elements was visible in the gateway’s shimmering surface. “Go now, Vintar. See that you don't disappoint me again.”
Vintar nodded once more and hastened through the portal, eager to be out from under the Allfather's watchful gaze.
Fourteen
On reaching the Manor, Marcus had ordered the militia to stand down. After speaking with Balan, he dispatched a troop to scour the beach and countryside for survivors. Marcus had shown her to the guest quarters and left her in peace as she had requested.
As the sun set over the western horizon Elaina collapsed onto the bed in the chamber Marcus had ordered be prepared for her. Alone for the first time since she had saved him, Elaina was drained and struggling to come to terms with all she had done. Her intentions had been to spare the Listarii from their fate, but she had acted in haste. Now thousands of slavers were dead. Elaina felt little pity for them—Meldinar could do without their kind—but in her haste she had not considered the innocents who might have been aboard their vessels. Slaves taken against their will, still aboard their vessels when Elaina had torn the fleet apart, had perished with the attackers. Guilt was an unfamiliar sensation to the Guardian.