The Last of the Sea Elves

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The Last of the Sea Elves Page 20

by R. A. Cheatham


  “Have a drink, friend,” Rolin said calmly, “and take a breath.”

  Serenne took the glass with a trembling hand and tried to swallow a sip of water. “I don’t… I don’t know what to say,” he breathed, “I never would have expected this, you’re certain?”

  “Bellia has one port to the rest of the world. Ships left port, fewer and fewer returned. The ones who did return exchanged chilling stories of the Fire elves’ rage. Their ships were scorched and burned and barely afloat. After a while, we tried fleeing to Oshana, but the Fires found those ships. They even found my ship,” she said.

  “But the Fire elves have never known those routes,” Serenne argued, “the sea was yours to navigate. Oshana was protected even from the knowledge of the king. How could they have known?”

  “That’s one of the questions that has led us here, sir,” Gobi said. “Kamo deserves to know who betrayed her people, and we think the answer lies in this city.”

  “You came to meet the king?” Serenne asked, “You think he’s behind this?”

  “I don’t know,” Kamo said, “but I know that he has the power and the resources to find the paths to Oshana.”

  Serenne took another slow sip, some color returning to his white cheeks.

  “He loved Mara,” Serenne asserted, “there has to be a mistake.”

  “If he loved her, what happened to me? Why was I returned to the Sea elves? Why was my identity hidden? Why did Mara fear for me, for us in the castle that day?”

  Serenne shook his head.

  “If only I knew,” he said. “But if what you say is true, I won’t try to stop you. You have a right to see the man you should have called father.”

  They sat on the ground, neither saying a word.

  “Sir, may I ask why you are speaking common? In Ferena, doesn’t everyone speak Fershi?” Rolin asked.

  “Fershi is the sacred language of the ancient, noble Fire elves, and as such is not to be spoken by the common man,” Serenne said. “Haven’t you read that decree?”

  “Oh, I… I suppose I thought it only applied to those in the innermost parts of the city,” Rolin replied.

  “Yes, well, you’d best apply it here and now,” Serenne said. “The king, may his flame burn forever, expects every citizen not of noble blood to follow the decree.”

  Rolin looked at Kamo. “What about the nobles themselves?” he asked.

  “I don’t have a lot of reason to interact with them daily, but I believe they may elect to speak it if they wish,” Serenne replied. “Why do you ask?”

  Rolin glanced at Kamo again.

  “Do you speak Fershi, Miss Rana?” Serenne asked.

  “I understand it… I don’t know that I could talk with someone if they tried to have a conversation with me,” Kamo replied.

  “Well, if you change your mind and decide to leave now, you could probably avoid that problem,” Serenne said, shrugging.

  Kamo shook her head. “That’s not an option.”

  Serenne’s voice was quiet and broken when he spoke again. “Can you wield fire?”

  “And water,” Kamo answered, unsure of his reasoning, “why?”

  “Both?” Serenne said.

  Kamo nodded.

  “Curious,” he said, stroking his chin. “If you insist on staying, I think I may have an idea of how to get you an introduction to the king.”

  “You mean the competition?” Kamo said, “we don’t know much about it, I’m afraid.”

  “The Tournament of Warriors. Only elves of royal and active blood can wield their element,” Serenne said, “the tournament always boasts a few newcomers. Fire-wielding nobles compete for an invitation to the king’s palace.”

  “What do you mean, ‘active?’” Kamo asked.

  “Some elves choose to renounce their abilities and their status, such was the case with Morro. He gave up his title so that Mara could be queen,” Serenne said.

  “Morro was her brother?” Kamo asked.

  Perhaps that’s why I was sent to him.

  “Yes, her elder brother. He was happy to give up the title, but the magic was a sacrifice. When a noble abdicates their royalty, they are known only as a part of the commonwealth, and their ability to wield does not get passed along to their offspring.”

  She had never pictured Morro as anything more than a sailor, an explorer. She laughed silently, picturing him in an uncomfortably tight satin tunic, bowing to emissaries and royalty.

  “Before Mara was chosen as queen, he gave up his right to the title, and Mara became Lady Mara of the Rana House,” Serenne said, “she told me that it was the kindest and most selfless thing that Morro ever did.”

  “How did you know Morro and Sheelo?”

  “I didn’t, to be honest,” Serenne said, “but Mara talked of them so often, I felt like I knew them just as well as she did.”

  “Mara knew Sheelo?” Kamo asked.

  “Mara loved him,” he said. “And he loved her. They knew it would never last. Sheelo wasn’t of noble blood. So, when the time came for Mara to take the throne with the king, they said goodbye. It tore her apart to do it, but I believe she found a comfortable, if not passionate, home with the king. He doted on her, and she was gracious and kind. I think, with time, she learned to love him.”

  “But, she was in love with Sheelo? Before that?” Kamo asked, baffled.

  “Very much,” Serenne said, smiling. “She said that he often talked of sailing away with her and all the adventures they would have together if only she could. But, even he knew what the union would mean if a Fire elf chose a Sea.”

  Kamo shook her head. “Then he gave her up. He let her go,” she said quietly. Kamo glanced at Rolin.

  “Is that where you’ve been all these years, then?” Serenne asked hesitantly, “with Morro and Sheelo?”

  “Morro was my father… Or, well, the man I called father,” she answered, “Sheelo was my captain. He taught me to sail. I spent most of my life with him.”

  “I think Mara would be pleased to hear that. Is he the one who showed you where to find the most vibrant ginger torch, then?” Serenne asked.

  Kamo closed her eyes, her memory winding back to endless hikes up the mountains of Croma, Sheelo, and Morro, insisting that they would find the prettiest flowers at the highest peaks. She remembered seeing the ginger torch and being grateful that she had taken the journey.

  “Yes,” she said sweetly, “he is.”

  “I’m glad,” he said, putting a gentle hand on her knee.

  “I don’t mean to interrupt,” Gobi nudged quietly, “but do you have more information on the tournament?” His eyes were shy and questioning.

  “That I do,” Serenne answered, trying to hoist himself from the floor.

  Kamo stood and held out her hand to steady him.

  “Thank you, dear,” he said, “now if you will kindly lock my patron door, you may follow me to the back entrance. It’ll be easier to work in my home.”

  Gobi latched the front door, and they followed Serenne through the back door and down a flight of stairs. The staircase had a mildewy, musty scent, but it was pleasant and rich. When they reached the bottom, Kamo expected to see a small, den-like room, dimly lit and cluttered, but she was surprised. The room was easily twice as big as the shop above them, and simple candelabras hung every few feet, illuminating a beautiful stone floor and red, velvet couches. On one wall, a large bookshelf made of solid wood overflowed with books. In front of the bookshelf, a wooden desk, strewn with papers and inkwells, stood about waist high.

  “Make yourselves comfortable,” Serenne said, gesturing to the couches. "It might take me a while to find the book I need.”

  Kamo and Rolin took a seat on one couch while Gobi lounged across the other, folding his hands behind his head.

  “Are you sure I can’t help you look for it?” Kamo said, trying not to sink too far into the cushions.

  “My dear, I’m afraid I am the only one who can successfully navigate this mess of
a library,” he laughed, “you just sit tight.”

  Kamo smiled and relaxed. The velvet tickled her neck as she rested her head on the back of the couch. The cushions were squashed and inviting. She expected it to be colder this far underground, but the fabric seemed to absorb her heat and instantly send it back to her.

  “He seems friendly,” Rolin whispered after a few minutes, confident that Serenne remained consumed in his search. “I can see why Mara would have sought him out.”

  “They must have been very close,” Kamo whispered back, “torch ginger is fickle even in the best circumstances. It’s a miracle that he got it to grow here for her.”

  “Here we are,” Serenne sang behind them, “I knew I’d find it.”

  Kamo turned to his desk just in time to see him drop a large, leatherbound book on it, knocking over three nearly empty inkwells in the process. Gobi, who had fallen asleep, jumped awake as it slammed onto the wood.

  “What is that?” Kamo asked, pushing her way out of the warm cushions to stand on the opposite side of the desk.

  Serenne opened the book’s pages with another loud slap against the desk.

  “This is a registry,” he explained, “a book of bloodlines, if you will, containing every noble line and its heirs and, hopefully, some convenient openings.”

  “Serenne, how did you get this?” Kamo asked, “You’re not a nobleman, are you?”

  “Oh, heavens no,” he replied, “truth be told, I shouldn’t have this book,” he said a little guiltily, “but Mara brought it to study so often, and after she died, I suppose I just didn’t have the heart to return it to the palace.”

  “She studied bloodlines?” Kamo asked.

  Rolin answered faster than Serenne.

  “For court, no doubt,” he said, “she would be expected to greet each family with the proper respect and poise. She’d have to know the hierarchy in order not to snub anyone.”

  “Precisely,” Serenne said, “and Fire elves are quite proud. It was imperative that she not offend anyone in the royal court.”

  “Oh,” Kamo said quietly. “I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  “Not to worry, my dear,” Serenne said, “if you are anything like your mother, you will have these in your head in no time at all.”

  “Why is it important right now?” Kamo said.

  “We need to find you an alias bloodline unless you’d like to announce your true lineage to the king and every elf at the competition,” he said.

  “No, that’s all right,” Kamo said, waving her hands back and forth in front of her, “I’m happy to blend in for now. I just want to survive long enough to meet the man.”

  “That’s what I thought,” Serenne said smugly, running his finger down the pages of the book, turning them quickly.

  “Here,” he said, jabbing at the middle of the fourth or fifth page he found. “The Duchess Linema had a daughter, and no one quite knows what she’s been up to for the past few years. The Linema clan has always been elusive, so it’s doubtful that anyone would recognize you as an imposter. This girl’s name is Kia. She never formally renounced her title, so her powers would be active.”

  Kamo stared at the words on the page.

  “Kia Linema,” she read, “sounds pretentious.”

  “Well, dear,” Serenne said, “they are noble, after all. You can hardly fault them for that.”

  “You’re right,” she said softly. “So, how do I get to the tournament? Do I have to prove who I am? When does it start?”

  “The opening ceremonies begin tomorrow night. After that, the competition will be open to all members of the noble houses,” Serenne said, “I don’t suppose you’ve had the chance to train your magic?”

  “I only discovered it just before we left Blosso,” Kamo said, “but I’ve been trying to master it. Panchon taught me to meditate and channel my emotions.”

  “Panchon? Pacha finally had a son?”

  “Yes, she did,” Kamo answered, “did Mara know her as well?”

  “No, I had the chance to meet Pacha when I traveled to Blosso as a younger man,” said Serenne, “she was not the leader of the Earth elf tribes at that time, but she was quite the lady. All she wanted was a family.”

  “Well, we met her daughter and her son,” Gobi said emphatically, “I don’t know which was more helpful. Poco is responsible for our disguises, and Panchon got the fire under control.”

  “Disguises?” Serenne asked curiously.

  Gobi pursed his lips and stared at Kamo and Rolin.

  Kamo looked at Serenne. He seemed wise and kind, but perhaps she felt that way because of his connection to Morro and Sheelo. He might react poorly, knowing that two humans were currently lounging in his parlor.

  “Gobi and I,” Rolin gestured, pointing to Gobi and then himself, “we aren’t exactly Fire elves.”

  “Sea elves, then? Or Earth? Surely Pacha wouldn’t have sent you here unaccompanied,” Serenne said, unconcerned.

  “Sir, this is Gobi, and this is Rolin, they’re…”

  “Humans,” Rolin said.

  Rolin trusts him, too, at least.

  Serenne took his nose out of the book for the first time since slamming it on the desk. “Humans, you say?” he said, adjusting the crooked glasses on his nose, “Fascinating, come here, child.”

  He extended a hand to Gobi, and as Gobi reached out to shake it, Serenne grabbed the scruff on his shirt and pulled his face closer to his glasses, rotating his whole head with his hand. “These look so authentic,” he said, squinting at Gobi’s scales and pointed ears, “but won’t they come off?”

  Serenne tugged on Gobi’s ears and rubbed his scales with the butt of his fist.

  “The elves gave us a precise method for removing them,” Rolin said, snickering as Serenne examined the inside of Gobi’s ears. “But we’re hoping we won’t need to remove them while we’re here in Ferena.”

  “No, indeed,” Serenne said, finally releasing Gobi, “there are few Fire elves who would take kindly to humans. It was risky coming clean to me if I’m honest. Quite foolish.”

  Gobi’s cheeks were flush. “Yes, sir,” he said, hanging his head.

  “Serenne, I’m concerned about the tournament. Pacha said it would involve my magic, that it was a challenge for the noble families? What exactly does it entail?” Kamo asked.

  “Oh, all sorts of things,” Serenne said, tossing his hands in the air, “one year they had to defeat a pack of tigers using only one hand. I seem to recall a year in my youth where they pitted the competitors against each other, but you couldn’t kill your opponent, only incapacitate them. There were very few eager competitors that year. Last year, the event was more like an obstacle course. It combined the magic of Fire with skills in athletics, logic puzzles, riddles, stamina. Fascinating business. They set each competitor in a maze. The audience watched from above, so they could see the end from the beginning, which of course, made it more exciting for those observing. But many noble families were unhappy with the arrangement, saying that their representatives did not have the chance to prepare for the competition properly. Poppycock, if you ask me, they’ve had their whole lives.”

  “I suppose that’s true,” Kamo said, “They have every resource available to train, I take it?”

  “Indeed, the finest teachers and trainers for Fire wielders. Though the magic does not manifest itself until early adulthood, there are techniques and methods. Meditation is one of them. That, and teachers and scholars, champion winners of the past, most noble children grow up with a vivid understanding of the history of the games, and they are eager to add their names to the list of winners,” Serenne said.

  “And everyone else?” Gobi asked, “do they never have the chance to meet the king?”

  “On the contrary, sir,” Serenne answered, his voice indignant, “the commonwealth are invited to bring any concerns to the king. Once a month, we are encouraged to go to the palace with any matter of concern, and the king himself listens and
offers counsel and resolution. If there is no resolution to be had, he promises to address the matter personally. I’ve never seen him fail.”

  “If he is so readily accessible to his people, why should I compete in the games?” Kamo asked, “Wouldn’t it be easier to meet him during his time with the people?”

  Maybe Elesun doesn’t have to be the key.

  “Perhaps, but we run into the same problem as before,” Serenne said, “what exactly would you say to him when he asked for your concerns?”

  “I’m not sure,” Kamo said, “but I think I should talk to him. I would ask him what he knows of the Sea elves and their disappearance.”

  “And when he asks your interest in the matter, and you explain to him that you know their race is dead, and he asks you how exactly you know that, what will you say then?”

  Kamo opened her mouth, ready to argue, but her words seemed hollow and pointless, even in her mind.

  “Fine,” she said, “but I don’t know what winning this silly event will do.”

  That’s not true. You’re just afraid to do it.

  “It will prove that you are a noble Fire elf and allow you to meet the king and those closest to him,” Serenne said, “without the danger of having to present your story. After the festival, you could find yourself in possession of an invitation to stay in the palace before returning to your small province. An invitation that would allow you to stay a while longer, perhaps get to know the king and the royal family better.”

  Kamo shivered. “How many competitors are there?” she asked.

  “No more than ten, usually,” Serenne responded, “they have to be between eighteen and twenty-five years old, and they must not have been a contender in any previous games. And only one member per family may compete.”

  “And you’re certain that no one from the Linema family will try to enter the competition?” Kamo asked wearily.

  “Kia’s mother was the youngest of her siblings and the last to marry,” Serenne said, running his finger down the page of the book, “and she only had one daughter. All the other offspring would have competed in previous games.”

  Kamo walked to the couch and sank, deflated, into its cushions. “Ten trained, well-educated Fire elves, and no idea what the challenge will be,” she said, laying back and covering her head with one arm.

 

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