Fallen Tiers
Page 30
Henrick raised Alador’s sword and enchanted it with dragon fire. He laid the sword first on the new king’s right shoulder and then on his left as he spoke.
“King for humans… King for dragons…”
The sword’s flames did not burn or even threaten to harm the young mage.
Henrick snuffed out the flames and handed the sword to Sordith. Sordith presented the crowns.
Henrick took the smaller of the two. “Do you swear to stand by your bondmate and sovereign through all things?”
Nemara answered, “I do.”
Henrick placed it on Nemara’s head.
He then placed the larger crown on Alador’s head. “Please rise.”
The two rose and turned back toward the city and the huge crowd of onlookers.
Henrick raised his hands and shouted. “May I present your King, Alador the Dragonsworn, and his Queen, Nemara!”
At this sign, dragons who could create visual effects took flight arching high over the newly crowned King and Queen. The visual display was mesmerizing and ended with the green flight sending rose petals down upon the couple who stood before them all.
Chapter Forty-Two
The city was in full festival per the King’s decree. Other than the scorch marks of magic, the remains of the coup had been cleared away. Banners of silver with the features of Renamaum danced from every free pole throughout the tiers. Food and mead of equal measure regardless of tier had also been set out. While some may still mutter harsh words about their half-Daezun king, or the fact that there was a king, they kept it close to the chest. Alador had even employed musicians throughout the tiers, creating a light-hearted scene.
Latiera had been brought out, and thankfully the baby was maintaining her mortal form. She was the highlight of the King’s personal party. Alador had surrounded himself with friends. Lady Aldemar and her newly reunited daughter, Ruby, graced the ballroom. Many of the mages who had fought at the side of Sordith and Dorien were also present. Of course, he had lifted Henrick’s banishment.
The most special guests were his Daezun kin. His mother had accompanied the force of arms that had gathered to assist in the taking of the city. She did not look a bit out of place in her Lerdenian fancies, as she called them. He was proud to have them here where they could meet his daughter. They would leave tomorrow, keeping how they had emerged not far from the Trench’s door as their secret.
When Pruatra had held his daughter, she had been a beautiful blue hatchling, the silver edges of the egg retained in her own scales. He recalled the wonder when he had taken the hatchling only to have her change into a mortal baby. Silver hair and deep sapphire eyes were the only hint that it was the same child.
Latiera’s hair had been the topic of many conversations tonight. How unusual it was to see a baby with such clearly metallic looking hair. How long it was already. Everyone assumed that some element of the silver came from him, his eyes being akin to liquid silver. Neither he nor Nemara commented when there were observations that while they could see him as the father, the baby did not seem to resemble Nemara at all.
Latiera began to fuss and it caught Alador’s attention immediately. Twice now, she had converted half to hatchling while crying. It hadn’t happened in a few days, but he was taking no risks. He swooped his child out of Dorien’s great arm. “Nemara may need to feed her.” He whisked her away, soothing the baby as best he could.
He interrupted and excused Nemara from where she was talking. By this time, Latiera was all smiles as she pulled on Alador’s hair.
“Is she okay?” Nemara asked in a whisper.
“She seems to be. However, let us avoid further risk.” He bounced the smiling child in his arms gently.
“I will take her up,” Nemara said with a nod, reaching for the baby.
“You, my dear, have her all the time. Enjoy the party,” he admonished. “I will take her up. If anyone is looking for me, let them know.”
“Of course,” Nemara actually looked a bit relieved. He knew that Latiera had been keeping her up at night, but his Queen had not allowed him to help during the wee hours, stating that he needed a sharp mind.
As he headed out the door, Mesiande caught up with him. “One minute, you are not getting away with her that easily. I haven’t gotten to hold her.”
Alador was a bit uncomfortable with Mesiande and the baby, but Mesiande did not seem as if the fact he was holding another woman’s child bothered her at all. He reminded himself that health, not parentage, was what mattered in the village way of life. He handed her the baby.
“She is getting tired, so I thought to go put her down.” Alador said, hoping the baby would not decide in this moment to reveal who her true mother was.
“I will only keep you a minute,” the young Daezun reassured him. She cooed at Latiera and was rewarded with two large eyes. Then suddenly, the baby growled.
Alador groaned inwardly and watched Mesiande for a reaction. “Oh, she must have some air in there. Best you make sure to burp her well before you lay her down.” Mesiande offered. As if Alador was unaware of such parenting behavior, she demonstrated how to lay the baby across the shoulder and produce a burp. Alador was too busy being relieved that Mesiande thought that Latiera had burped to take note of her advice.
He gently took the baby back. “I need to get her down and get back,” he offered as explanation.
“Before you go, I didn’t get to tell you,” she began.
“Tell me what?” Alador was not really comfortable with this conversation. He had a baby that was not hers and a queen that was someone else.
She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you,” she softly uttered next to his ear. “And… You chose well. I would never have been happy here.”
He looked into her eyes, their souls melding for a brief moment. “I know,” he returned.
“Besides,” Mesiande stepped back as she spoke. “I like her. We SHALL cause you all kinds of grief.” She turned and went back into the ballroom.
Alador smiled inwardly; he knew Mesiande well enough to know that this was not a threat, it was a promise.
He adjusted Latiera in his arms and started up the stair to put his little girl to bed. He was sure there would be many surprises in store for him in the future. Life was not going to be dull.
Epilogue
Alador was stunned when he opened the nursery room door. The lightstones seemed to have dimmed, and the air was chilled.
The Goddess Dethara stood by his daughter’s crib.
He clutched Latiera to his chest and immediately threw up a protective shield.
She turned toward him. Her former guise as Lady Morana had been dropped for her true appearance. She seemed held in the air by the upturned folds of her long ebony gown. Her glossy black hair flowed down to the floor beneath her. Both her hair and dress undulated under the breath of sheer power like waves on the ocean.
She floated toward him, reaching out one immaculately manicured hand toward his child’s soft silver locks. He put his hand over Latiera’s head protectively and tried to fold his arms tighter over her tiny body.
Dethara’s hand dropped. “Such a lovely child, and so very special,” she purred hypnotically. She raised her eyes from the child to him. The depth of their black pools mesmerized him for a moment before she spoke again. “My little pseudo-dragon… the dragonsworn… You never cease to amaze me.”
Alador glared at her. “You are not welcome here, Goddess.”
She placed her hand on her heart, the pale white of her skin standing out starkly against the black of her robe. “Oh, you pain me…” she cooed in mock surprise. “I only wished to see your child… Your dear little one.” She smiled and it held both a challenge and a promise. “I can hardly wait until sweet little Latiera comes of age and appears in the Gods’ Circle to receive her gifts. I have planned a very unique gift for your very unique child, Alador.”
Her voice, speaking his name, lingered in the room long after she had
disappeared.
Glossary
Blackguard – an elite army of half-Daezun and half-Lerdenian who have shown the capacity for spell-casting. First school of mages established on the isle.
Bloodmining - The practice of feeding a chained dragon to full health then cutting it so that its magical powers and blood meld into the ground. The mixture is harvested and planted into dirt in a nearby mine to congeal into bloodstones. Process takes a minimum of one two turns.
Bloodstone – A magically embed stone created from the magic and the blood of a dragon. These combine into a hard substance that can be drained or used for item enhancements.
Circle—In an attempt to control birthing and population, Daezun use this ritual for coming of age, reproduction and celebration of high summer.
Daezun – A shorter stocky race proficient at mining and other trades involving the use of hands. Daezun cannot cast spells. They revere the dragons and the Gods.
Geas – an obligation or prohibition magically imposed on a person. In this case, the geas was established to whoever harvested Renamaum’s bloodstone.
Korpen – Korpen had originally been slow moving pests that traveled in herds and are now domesticated for farm use. Their massive heads had double, vertically-oriented horns. The upper horn curved forward from behind the head, while the lower emerged from the head itself. As a protection from predators such as dragons, the spikes along their backs were almost impenetrable. That was useful to the miners as well: korpen were strong and a great amount of weight could be attached to each spike Lerdenians – Lithe and lean, many have white hair due to magical drain. Most Lerdenians are capable of some spell casting.
Lexital – These unique flying creatures had a strange curved beak with what seemed to be like the sail of a boat rising above both beak and eyes. Their neck was long and serpentine, moving side to side as they steered through the sky. Their eyes were red and rimmed in blue. Their wings were varying shades of blue with a ridge of red that seemed to arch out mid-feathers. There was a natural dip in this neck right before the body that could carry the rider.
Medure- Medure was a hard metal that glistened with flecks of blue; it was difficult to find and harder to work. Used as currency in rectangle pieces.
Panzet – large birds with long legs, prized for their long purple feathers. Often used in comparison for those who have a focus on appearance but lack intelligence.
Prang – A local herbivore, their white and brown coats made it easy for them to blend in with the dead foliage of the cold winter months. An adult prang could weigh up to two hundred and fifty stones – too large for individual families. A prang’s up-swept and back-curving horns could be used in medicine for headaches and eyesight.
Slips—Another name for medure that has been formed into currency. These are small rectangles of the medal with a small hole in one end so that they can be strung into strings of one hundred.
Trading Tokens – Smaller form of currency for day to day items. There are fifty trading token in a single slip.
Trench—A below ground level area carved out with a central canal that takes the city sewage out to sea. Many denizens of Lerdenian cities that do not have spell casting abilities are forced to live there in abject poverty.
Turn – How the denizens of Vesta measure time. A turn is approximately eight earth months and is measured from winter to summer solstice.
THERESA SNYDER
I need to tell you about Theresa. We met after working to collaborate on publicity. She has become a big sister and mentor to me. Her books are a joy to read and are lunch time lengths. I recommend Theresa without reservation.
Theresa Snyder has a wealth of life experience to pull from to write her character driven novels, novellas and stories. Born in California, she has lived in every state west of the Mississippi. She grew up in what most people would consider a huge family with two natural born brothers and twenty-three foster and adopted brothers.
Her mother, who was a librarian, gave her a love for the written word. Her father, a high school automotive teacher, instilled in her an interest in how things work.
Writing has always been her passion, but jobs from zoo keeper to legal assistant, make-up artist to marketing coordinator, and retail clerk to print shop manager have paid the bills over the years.
All this experience has led to very richly developed characters, plots and settings.
Her internationally read blog has a following of over 168,000 and has over 4,000 hits a month. She also has more than 50,000 followers on Twitter after less than three years on the site.
Theresa Snyder is a multi-genre writer. She grew up on a diet of B&W Sci-Fi films like Forbidden Planet and The Day the Earth Stood Still. She is a voracious reader and her character driven writing is influenced by the early works of Anne McCaffrey, Ray Bradbury, Robert Heinlein, and L. Ron Hubbard. She loves to travel, but makes her home in Oregon where her elder father and she share a home and the maintenance of the resident cat, wild birds, squirrels, garden, and occasional dragon house guest.
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