Below, the city was still asleep in the predawn watches. A tear ran slowly down her cheek as she stood there and the cold wind danced along her arms, chilling her. She heard someone approach from behind. He came to stand beside her but neither spoke for many moments.
“Thank you for doing this,” Sheabor said at length. “I know you don't understand exactly what's happening.”
Sheabor turned his gaze to Ariadra, who wore the necklace and gown of Sheyla, just as Sheabor had asked her to do. When he first saw that it was Ariadra and not Sheyla who had been brought back from the grave, he ordered everyone out of the Orb Stone Vault and brought Ariadra away to the palace hall before anyone could understand what had really happened.
Durian had been right. It had never been the plan of King Euthor to bring himself and his beloved Sheyla back from the grave. But he went to great lengths to see that Ariadra was given a second chance at life and Sheabor knew why.
“You're wrong,” Ariadra said, springing him from his ruminations. “I understand exactly what's happening. They explained it all to me.”
Sheabor opened his mouth to inquire but remembered seeing three distinct figures standing in the cavern as though speaking to each other. Two of the figures had disappeared and the spirit of Ariadra had returned.
“It was the plan of King Euthor all along for me to stand here,” Ariadra said. “Corcoran's spies will see enough to believe that Sheyla has been brought back from the dead.”
“What was it like?” Sheabor asked. “When you met with King Euthor and Sheyla.”
“It was wonderful,” she said with a warm smile. “I don't know that I'll ever be able to really explain what happened. I had no sense of time. I know we spoke long but no words were exchanged. It was as though I simply understood, like I could see the world through their eyes. I felt the love they shared and the joy of their reunion. They let me into the moment with them. I still can't believe it.”
Ariadra wiped a tear from each eye.
“You can't know what a sacrifice it was, being apart for twelve centuries. I can't even put the feelings into words. There was such an intense remorse when he saw her again for the first time, having never gotten the chance to tell her how sorry he was for what happened to her. But even in the same moment, an intense pity and eagerness to forgive. Feeling both at once was beyond anything I thought a person could experience. Had I been in the flesh to feel it, my heart would've burst.”
Sheabor nodded slowly, still dumbfounded at the way things had all turned out.
“It's nearly unbelievable,” Sheabor replied. “We had no idea what to expect when we walked inside that cavern. To find you walking back toward us instead of Sheyla was something I never would have guessed.”
“It was the choice of King Euthor to have things this way. It was within his power to bring himself and Sheyla back to life. But he knew it wouldn't be right. They had had their time, long ago, and though it ended in tragedy, their time is over now and will never come again.”
Ariadra wiped another tear from her eyes. Sheabor recalled the poem Durian had shown him in the archival building, remembering its tragic sense of loss. None of them understood it at the time, but now it made so much sense. Ariadra looked over at him with a smile.
“Sheyla told me that I'm her relative...a great niece, in the line of her brother. His lineage has survived until this day and my family on my mother's side is descended from him. Sheyla told me she was proud of the woman I've become and wished she had the chance to get to know me.”
Sheabor was taken aback. That meant that he and Ariadra were related as well, though not by blood and only very distantly.
“I didn't know Sheyla had a brother.”
“Neither did I. But Ogrindal is a city from before the war, much like Eulsiphion, whose current occupants weren't its builder. King Behlyn and all his people abandoned the city when they became the Night Wanderers. My people, who dwell there now, claim to be descendants of King Behlyn's people, but more likely they were nomadic wanderers, searching for a place to settle after the Great War.”
“That's incredible,” Sheabor said, speechless for long moments. “But I still don't understand how they brought you back.”
“There's a piece of the Soul Stone hidden in Sheyla's coffin. It tied her spirit to it. When Baron placed me beside her, my spirit also became tethered to the Soul Stone. And as you've already discerned, the spirit of King Euthor was tied to a piece of the Soul Stone buried inside the Hammer of Haladrin. When you placed the hammer and the coffin before King Taspian, all three spirits were released and one was allowed to return.”
Sheabor shook his head in wonder. He could never have guessed such an outcome.
“They're gone now,” Ariadra said...“King Euthor and Sheyla. They're together again and we're on our own. King Euthor can do nothing more to help us.”
“I know.”
“Everything is now set,” Ariadra continued. “The pieces have all been arranged. Corcoran believes he's found the orb containing the powers of the Windbearers, and soon he'll be told that you've somehow brought Sheyla back from the dead. He'll be blinded with rage and will come here with all speed.”
“Then Corcoran really did find the tomb of King Euthor?” Sheabor asked. “Did Pallin escape in time?”
Ariadra shook her head slowly.
“Pallin realized before the end what the ultimate plan of King Euthor was. If Pallin had lived and we unlocked the real orb while he remained trapped on the Banished Lands, Pallin would've used his powers to return to us and Corcoran would've known that the orb he possessed was a fake. But now that Pallin is gone, his powers will pass to Aravas and Faigean. Pallin sacrificed himself for us.”
Sheabor marveled. The final plan of King Euthor had finally been unveiled. Now it finally made sense why the tomb of King Euthor was on the Banished Lands. Corcoran had found it and the orb, believing he'd stifled King Euthor's plans to bring himself back to life.
Now Corcoran could have more than he had ever dreamed – the powers of the Windbearers to himself and the woman he loved by his side. He had only to defeat Sheabor, take his hammer to crack the orb and rescue Sheyla from his grasp. Then his victory would be complete. It seemed scarcely possible that King Euthor could've set such an intricate plan into motion so long ago.
But the cold breeze came strong and Ariadra cradled her arms.
“It's cold. You should get indoors. I'll tell Aravas and Durian what's happened to Pallin.”
“Tell them Pallin died a hero. He chose to sacrifice himself for us. He knew how delicate the plan of King Euthor was and protected the orb with his very life to keep the secret intact.”
“I'll make sure the whole world knows it.”
Ariadra nodded and Sheabor turned to depart.
“Wait,” she said with alarm in her voice. “When can I see Baron? I know we can't be seen publicly together but I need to see him.”
Sheabor opened his mouth but his countenance sent a streak of fear through her.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Baron left,” he replied.
“Left? What do you mean?”
“He said he was going to Ogrindal to tell your father what happened to you.”
Emotion overwhelmed her as she buried her head in her hands, sobbing.
“He'll never make it! He's injured. How could you let him do that?”
“I tried to stop him. He wouldn't listen to me.”
Sheabor put his arm around her to comfort her for long moments.
“You can't imagine what he's going through,” she said.
Sheabor's countenance was pained. In truth, he knew too well what it was like to feel helpless, not knowing if Cora was even alive and unable to do anything for her. It was the worst thing he had ever felt.
“He's going to be alright,” Sheabor encouraged. “It's only a three day ride to Thay Iphilus. The Forest Guard will see that he's injured and show pity on him. Your people aren't killers. They
're gracious and kind. The tyranny of Whinden won't take Baron's life, I promise you.”
Ariadra nodded and clenched her jaw, wiping away her tears. She knew what she had to do. Though every fiber of her being wanted to leave this place and search for Baron, she knew her destiny lay along a different path. As she drew a deep breath, the two stared out over the beautiful nightscape for many long moments of silence.
“Can't we at least send a search party looking for him?” she asked.
“It's already been done,” Sheabor said. “King Froamb assured me his best scouts were sent out. If Baron's not yet reached the forest, they'll find him. And if he's already in Thay Iphilus, they'll do what they can to alert the Forest Guard and get a message to him.”
Ariadra nodded and took a deep breath, calming herself. She knew they were doing everything they could. King Euthor wouldn't have gone to such trouble bringing her back to life, only to let her own heart break with the death of Baron. So she chose to trust. Though she had only been moments with Sheyla and King Euthor in the cavern, she felt such a warmth from them.
“We can't talk about any of this openly,” Ariadra declared. “From now on, you will refer to me only as Sheyla. If Corcoran has spies in the city, they'll be watching me.”
“I'll instruct the others,” Sheabor replied with a bow. “It's best that you stay behind closed doors.”
“No,” Ariadra replied. “Sheyla wouldn't do that so neither will I.”
“When Corcoran is told Sheyla lives, he may try to capture you. They were able to sneak in here once before, looking for Pallin. We know about that tunnel, but who knows what other hidden passageways were built into this city.”
“I do,” Ariadra replied.
The way she said it so definitively surprised Sheabor. Just how much did Ariadra learn from King Euthor and Sheyla? But he didn't inquire and bowed, turning to depart, leaving Ariadra alone on the pavilion. Ariadra lingered there, placing her hand again on the Athel stone and gazing out over the darkened plains before her. If only she could see Baron now as Sheyla would often see her own husband.
As she touched the stone, the world seemed to gain a silvery hue, and her focus seemed to wander toward the southwest, as though the Athel were carrying her in that direction. How incredible to consider that Sheyla herself once stood in this place, feeling the same cold wind against her skin, and longing for her own husband's return.
But the cold ultimately drove her from the pavilion and she retreated into the palace hall, wandering the large confines alone. Statues of the kings of old stood tall and proud along the walls, showing the long heritage of the ancient city. One of them she recognized.
Coming to the likeness of King Euthor, she marveled at its exactitude and how the sculptor captured the look of longing and sorrow as he gazed toward the open pavilion she had just occupied. She smiled, remembering their fond gaze as at last they were reunited, if only in death.
The door to the palace hall opened, revealing a figure she thought she recognized. Coming closer, she sighed in great relief.
“Sheabor's just told me everything,” Durian said. “I'm so glad you're safe, and I'm so sorry for what happened. It was my fault you weren't warned about the trap in the tomb of Sheyla. Please forgive me.”
Then she remembered that this was the man who had gone with Pallin over the Ruhkan Mountains to the Banished Lands. It was Baron's best friend, Durian, of whom he had spoken on many occasions.
“It wasn't your fault,” Ariadra encouraged. “Things had to be this way.”
“I know,” Durian said. “I just feel like such a fool. It was my discovery that led Pallin to his death...a death I'm not convinced he had to die. And now Baron's missing or worse. If something happens to him, I don't know how I'll live with myself. It doesn't matter that this was the plan of King Euthor. Had I known what the price could be, I'd have never set foot from Suriya.”
Ariadra nodded, her eyes misting with tears. Durian sounded like Baron, afraid of the sacrifices King Euthor might demand from them.
“Baron's going to be alright,” Ariadra said. “They'll find him and bring him back. When I leave this palace hall, it'll be as Sheyla, not Ariadra. I can't do anything for Baron when I'm out there, but you can. Please tell me you'll do whatever you can to bring him safely back.”
“Of course I will,” Durian replied.
“Thank you,” she said with a warm smile. “He's lucky to have a friend like you. I feel like I already know you so well. Baron told me a lot about you while we were in Suriya. And when I was in the cavern with King Euthor and Sheyla, I got to know you as they did.”
Durian was intrigued. What thoughts did King Euthor and Sheyla have about him? He made it a point to ask her later.
“I guess I have some catching up to do then,” he replied with a smile. “I look forward to getting to know you better. And congratulations on your wedding. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you and Baron.”
“You had more important things to do.”
Durian shrugged with a nod.
“I guess so. I spent so much time trying to figure out the plan of King Euthor. But in the end, he used my mistakes just as much as anything good I managed to do.”
“That's why the plan succeeded. It wasn't about you following a set of instructions. It was about who you are. In you, King Euthor saw a man hungry to be a part of something bigger than simple country life. He needed someone whose heart longed to live life to the full; someone not satisfied with the merely ordinary. Though your mind may have led you to wrong conclusions, it was your heart that really guided you to the places King Euthor wanted you to go.”
Durian nodded slowly, considering her words.
“I just don't know what to do anymore. Now that King Euthor's gone, I feel crippled. Sheabor still expects me to help formulate a plan against Corcoran. But if I make mistakes now, King Euthor won't be there to fix them. I don't want to cost any more people their lives.”
“This is war, Durian.”
“I know that. But I'm not a soldier. I'm a carpenter. What business is it of mine to order troops into battle?”
Ariadra opened her mouth but nothing came in reply.
“All I know is that King Euthor believed in you,” Ariadra said at length. “That's good enough for me. Without you, we'd have had no chance of winning this war. We still may not.”
Her words hung in the air like a portent. King Euthor had given them every advantage. But Durian had seen in the mind of Corcoran how long he'd prepared for this war to come – the siege works he'd constructed and the armies he'd trained. The Eastern Realm was far from prepared for this kind of invasion.
The Beginning
“You're all traitors!” Commander Rovak screamed.
“Settle down, Rovak,” Drogan replied.
“Settle down?”
“You're not being constructive,” Estrien said. “We need to form a plan.”
“Forgive me for not being calm while the lands I took an oath to protect lay burning in the wake of your folly.”
“Can't handle a little time under the boot?” the resistance commander asked.
“This loose association is over,” Commander Rovak declared. “You will all depart immediately from this region. Any further military action here will constitute an act of war.”
“Don't be a fool Rovak,” Drogan said. “You need our help, now more than ever.”
“It's too late for that. I gave you a chance and you failed. You have twenty four hours to remove your forces from the Westward Wilds.”
With that, Commander Rovak departed, leaving the rest in silence, for many long moments pondering – Straiah, Estrien, Gwaren, Drogan and the resistance commander.
“We know now that Corcoran's forces are coming from Thob Forest,” Estrien spoke up. “So what if we cut their supply lines? He can't wage war long in a foreign country without provisions.”
“He can if his targets are towns and country villages. His forces will take what supplies
they need from the conquered – like a plague moving from place to place, exhausting every resource.”
“There has to be something we can do,” Estrien argued.
“We should return to the alliance city,” Straiah urged. “At least give Rovak that much. We can reevaluate from there.”
“But we'll lose precious time,” Estrien replied. “What did you see when you encountered them? What kind of forces?”
“It's everything he's got,” Straiah replied. “Corcoran's finally played his hand.”
“What's everything?”
“Infantry, cavalry, siege works, and the beasts under his command.”
“What kind of beasts?”
“Powerful creatures from the old world, similar in size and strength to Drogan's people, but wild and driven by instinct. The creature, Arathama, we encountered in Thob Forest is their kin. The first of them, Corcoran captured himself, long ago, seeking them out in their lairs and battling them in his molten form. Now, he raises them for warfare. And though born in bondage, having lost some of their strength and size, they are still quite menacing.”
“Can we defeat them?” Estrien asked.
“We have to.”
“Can Kester's forces defeat them?”
The question hung in the air. They had never done warfare like that before. And they were ill-prepared for an invasion from the west. Most of their bastions, like K'venneh, had been built against the threat of the Horctura to the east or the giants of the north. Kester had long been a unified nation, free from war. Squabbling nobles grasping for power or land generated the only real conflicts. But it was far from open war with an unknown and dynamic adversary.
“They're going to need our help, whether they like it or not,” Estrien said.
“Agreed,” replied Gwaren. “But we have to plan carefully or we'll lose our advantage.”
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