by C. J. Krüger
Unable to help myself, I throw my arms around him. “I’m honored, Duncan. I really am.”
“So am I,” he whispers. He hugs me close for a moment before pulling away. With another surge of his will, his hair is styled and clothes magically appear on him, a fine purple and silver doublet with matching pants.
“You clean up nicely, your Majesty,” I say teasingly. He does look very good and I have to restrain my fingers from ruffling his hair.
“So do you, your Majesty,” he replies and extends his arm. “Shall we walk?”
“We shall,” I say regally and link my arm with his.
* * *
The festival grounds are completely full. People are sitting at long wooden tables all around the grounds, just waiting for food to be served. The eyes of everyone fall onto us and it seems like none of them blink as we make our way to the main table.
Duncan’s parents are waiting for us there, along with my brother, the Dark Lady, and Azhrav, Emperor of the Sea.
That’s quite the crowd, I project into the mind of my husband.
They are family, he replies. In a special kind of way.
I don’t say anything more as we make our way to the center of the table. Jonathan and Eldatha are placed next to Duncan, and Sivandar is next to me. Azhrav is also on my side of the table, while Athreine is sitting next to Eldatha. Inwardly, I dread the conversations that are about to take place.
“Citizens of all nations,” Duncan speaks out, his voice reaching all corners of the festival grounds. “Thank you for being here tonight as Arteria celebrates the closing of wounds and a new chapter in our history. Put aside thoughts of dark days for this one evening, for it is blessed by the Lights and I’luna watches over us. Drink. Feast. Talk.”
He waves his hands and with a surge of his will and that faint golden light, the food is summoned onto every table. Piles of different kinds of fruits and vegetables, along with various roasts are spread throughout the table. Our glasses are filled with the finest of wine, one for red, the other for white. We take our seats and watch as everyone begins to eat. Apparently we have kept them waiting for a while.
The others may not realize it, but summoning that much food and drink at once is an incredible feat of strength, yet Duncan looks perfectly fine. Just how powerful has he become? I wonder. The thought makes me feel much safer, even though I’m used to being the strong one. On the other hand, I don’t want to rely on him so much for protection. What if I only get in the way if I try to help? And on top of that, watching Diarmuid die in the fight with that Abyssal left me with deep doubts. Is Duncan really capable of doing what Diarmuid could not?
These thoughts deeply trouble me. I do not want to stand aside while my husband fights against the tides of darkness. I will not stand aside.
Do not worry, child, a voice says softly into my mind. You are not going to be a shadow of your husband. Your bond will make you stronger and you will stand at his side.
What? I ask, looking startled. My eyes glance over to Athreine but she is busy speaking with Eldatha, and besides, the voice I heard was much too kind to be hers.
Mother Moon? I ask, but the presence is gone. Tears begin to form in my eyes. I have felt the presence of the Lights in my life, but never heard them so fully in my mind. The experience is overwhelming and I feel as if I am about to faint.
Strong arms wrap around me. It’s Duncan.
They spoke to you? He asks, keeping me steady.
Yes.
He kisses my brow and I can sense how happy he is. Tonight is going to be a night unlike any other.
It already is, I reply and hold his hand tightly.
Sivandar is giving me a sidelong glance but says nothing. I’m glad for him being at my side, even if his face remains cold. Duncan lets go of me and turns his attention to his parents, giving me a chance to talk with my brother.
“Are you happy for me?” I ask bluntly.
His face twitches and he turns to look at me. “I am surprised,” he says flatly. “And I don’t care much for being surprised.”
“You knew we were mates,” I say pointedly. “Is this really so surprising?”
He takes a moment to respond and finally his face softens and some of the ice in his eyes melts. “Yes, but I am happy for you. Duncan is not the same boy who kept his feet in the mud. I can already tell he is going to make a fine leader. If we can keep a knife from going into his back, that is.”
My eyes widen in surprise. “Surly there isn’t a threat of that.”
He nods gravely. “There is, little sister. Many of the elders feel cheated by the decision of the Lights. I have heard talk of rebellion.”
“But Duncan may be our only hope against the Void,” I say through my teeth. “What could they possibly be thinking?”
Sivandar shrugs. “I’m not sure, but I know a few of them have tried speaking with Azhrav about killing Duncan and putting Azhrav in charge of all the Elves.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I mutter and cast a cold glance out at the crowd. “They would sell Arteria’s freedom for a chance to sit on the White Throne. And in the middle of a war, no less. Disgusting.”
“I’m only the messenger,” he says softly and places a hand on my shoulder. “It’s my job to bring this to the two of you as your weapons master. If I still have the job, of course.”
“Of course you do,” Duncan says, casting his eyes towards us. “I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but of course you will keep your position, Sivandar. Diarmuid trusted you with his life and so do I.”
“Thank you, your Majesty,” he says dryly, which is a step up from being cold. “I will do my best.”
How much did you hear? I project into Duncan’s mind.
All of it, he says grimly. But I knew people were going to try and kill me. They are afraid and fear makes fools of us all.
I frown and place my hand on his. Can Azhrav and Athreine be trusted?
To be honest, I don’t know, he replies. But we’ll find out in due time.
I turn to face his parents and smile sweetly at Eldatha and Jonathan, trying to put thoughts of daggers in my husband’s back out of my mind.
“Are you both enjoying yourselves?” I ask, somewhat nervously.
Jonathan smiles. “I’ve missed proper Elven feasts,” he says lightly, “and having a reason to celebrate them. Although, I admit that being a father-in-law to someone many times my age and experience is odd.”
“Odder than being married to someone like that?” Eldatha says teasingly. “That’s news to me.”
“That’s different,” he says indignantly. “You’re my wife, not my daughter.”
His words, though said in jest, bring a flush of emotion to my face. “You raised a great man, Jonathan. I’m honored to be your daughter.”
Now it is his turn to blush. He turns to his wife and they share a long, deep look with one another.
“So.” It is Eldatha who speaks and breaks eye contact with her husband. “I have to be honest with you both. I’m thrilled for your wedding and that Duncan has become the King. Father would have wanted this. Just be careful.”
“We will, Mother,” Duncan replies. “But I think there is something else we should talk about.”
“What?” Jonathan asks, his brows furrowing.
“I know what happened twenty-one years ago,” he says quietly. “I know what you did to me.”
Both of his parents become white as ghosts and I raise my brow inquisitively. What is he talking about?
“Son,” Jonathan says, his voice shaking.
Duncan lifts his hand and shakes his head. “I’m not bringing this up because I want an apology. You were doing Their will and if anyone can understand what that means, it’s me. That’s all I wanted to say, so please, put the guilt of it behind you. I love you both.”
For a moment they are deathly quiet, until Jonathan starts to break down into tears. I watch a lifetime of sorrow evaporate from his eyes with those tears. Eldatha comforts him,
running her fingers through his hair. She looks at her son and mouths a silent thank you before returning her attention to her husband.
What are you talking about? I ask Duncan tentatively.
During the last war, my other grandfather became possessed by the Void, he explains. Diarmuid and the Lights knew that if he were to be killed, the Void itself would escape. So they sealed it inside of me.
That’s monstrous! I exclaim, feeling my knuckles go white with rage. That’s what Diarmuid meant by you resisting them! But I thought you said you didn’t know how the Darkness got into you.
Duncan nods and I feel his hand enclose mine. The Lights told me. Do not be angry with my parents, my love, he says softly into my mind. It was the only option open to them and it was the Lights who told them to do it. They blessed my conception and protected me. When I chose Them, the Darkness was sent back to the Voidlands.
I frown as I take all of this in. No matter what, I can’t keep my mind away from the image of Duncan as a helpless baby becoming infused with such evil. I can’t shake the memories of those few months at his school where he walked around terrified that he was some kind of monster.
I still… I’m so sorry that happened to you, my love, I say, trying to banish my rage. I can’t even look at Jonathan and Eldatha right now without feeling ill.
I’m not, in a way, he tells me, and I can feel his love pouring out from him. Sometimes we don’t understand what They want from us and that’s all right. I’m a better man for what They did and I thank Father and Grandfather for listening to Them. Now we have a chance to drive the Void away forever.
Glumly I nod in agreement. I’m just being retroactively protective over you, I explain mildly. I know I shouldn’t be angry. Besides, I’m the one always telling you to let go of rage.
He chuckles out loud. And it’s great advice, my love. Let’s just finish our feast. Tomorrow most of our guests are leaving, and before that we have a war to plan.
Groaning inwardly, I nod in agreement. Tomorrow is the beginning of the end. No one knows how things are going to turn out, but looking at my husband and our family, I have a strong surge of hope. The words of Mother Moon echo in my heart and I steel myself for what is to come. I believe we will win. I believe in Them.
Chapter Eight
Duncan Lightheart
(Year 3761)
The war room is very crowded. The Seven Dwarf Kings, my father, The Emperor of the Sea, and the Dark Lady take up a lot of room. My wife and mother are outside in the forest, taking the time to catch up with one another while we bicker like children.
Azhrav, along with the Dwarves and my father, are arguing with one another about the situation in the north. Kal-Gora is nearest to the gathering point of the demonic army and everyone feels it is my father’s duty to stop the horde from spreading.
“My army isn’t powerful enough to take on this kind of threat!” My father exclaims finally. “The Magi are powerful but their strength doesn’t rival that of the Elves. Furthermore, the Dwarves have the finest siege force in the world. Why is this being left up to me?”
His question only sparks more fighting about the others needing to protect their own homelands. No one trusts each other enough to empty their lands, for fear of returning to find an enemy occupying the throne.
“King Dahg,” I say to the calmest of the lot. “What do you think about all of this?”
He grunts in response. “I think we’re all being foolish, if you ask me,” he says sourly. “Ain’t no victory to be had if we sit here squabbling like a bunch of ninnies.”
“I’m not sure there is victory to be had by strength of arms anyway,” I say soberly.
This causes the rest of them to turn their anger on me.
“What would a boy know about it?” King Urgnak asks bitterly. “I was pissin’ on the corpses o’ demons before you could suck yer mother’s tit.”
My father and I both stand up, ready for a fight. “That’s terrible thing to say about a queen, and a lie,” I say firmly. “Demons were sealed away by my grandfather thousands of years ago.”
He spits. “You Elves know nothing. Sure, yer grandfather did that, but every now and again, in the deep places, an army would rise up. It was up to us to see it defeated, else the whole damn world would be dead about now!”
I clench my fists and we sit down again. “Very well, but the next time you talk about my mother, you will do it with respect.”
“Is that a threat, boyo?” he asks, gripping his axe.
“I’m telling you to be decent,” I say, glowering at him.
My father gives me a look of approval and then leans back into his chair and sighs. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”
Azhrav looks me in the eye, but his face is unreadable. “You said you don’t think that arms would win this war. Why?”
“Because the demons just keep coming back,” I explain. “Something I learned from the Lights is that the influence of Their word is weak in our world right now.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Urgnak grumbles.
“Everything, master dwarf,” I tell him calmly. “We can’t win this war without Them.”
“Isn’t that why They sent you, old boy?” Azhrav asks, his lips pulled up into a smirk. “I mean, that’s what you keep saying.”
“Are you really asking me that, your Imperial Majesty, or are you just trying to be clever?” I ask coolly.
“That’s a point for the boy,” Athreine says, her voice eerie and otherworldly. “We cannot question the validity of his claims, brother.”
“I wasn’t, sister,” he replies mockingly. “But I am questioning why he as Their champion is saying we need Them to win when he is right here with us.”
“Because They are in all of us,” I say, keeping my temper under control. “Or at least, They want to be. But over the years, even though Their name is known, They aren’t. Their works, Their love, Their guidance—it’s all lost. Even among those who believe in Them, no one really knows Them anymore.”
The Chief King of the Dwarves grumbles in agreement. “That’s especially true amongst us,” he says sadly. “We have such a deep distrust of them. So much so that we’d prefer to live under mountains, just to be away from their sight.”
“Fer’ good reason,” Urgnak says, his voice guttural. “What have They ever done for us?”
“Don’t be thick,” Ulfgar says, smacking Urgnak over the head. “You were there when the boy renamed the world!”
“One fancy trick doesn’t forgive abandonment,” Urgnak replies, looking very offended.
“None of this solves the issues,” the Emperor of the Sea interjects. “What do you suggest, Champion?” he asks, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
“I had a vision of scribes,” I tell them, “men and women from all races and all nations that I am supposed to find. Through them, the Holy Lights will speak and they will write down Their words.”
Everyone is silent. Troubled expressions cross their faces, and even Azhrav is at a loss for words.
It is the Dark Lady who makes the first sound, a bone chilling laugh that echoes throughout the room.
“Be quiet, Witch Woman,” Urgnak says, though his tone is more afraid than angry.
“I beg no pardon,” she says gently, her voice a veiled threat. “I am amused by the humor our Parents have. We are surrounded by an army we cannot defeat, and They want a book written about Them. It’s brilliant.”
“Ha,” Azhrav says, his tone disgusted. “This is why two of us went over and you took in the Void. They expect insanity.”
“I did what was necessary, Azhrav,” Athreine replies cooly. “But not because I didn’t trust in Them. You have always been the one who lacked faith.”
Azhrav turns away, his face sour, but I can see in his eyes that he agrees with his sister.
They all need You, I plead silently. They need You in them the same way You are within me. We cannot win this way.
No, They
say in unison. You are Our Champion. No other.
Then let me be Your Champion, I argue fervently. Let me show them how to love You and put their lives in Your hands. Please, Father Sun and Mother Moon.
The others are arguing around me but I am tuning them out as I await Their answer. More than a book in Their name, we need warriors to fight with Their power as I do. Warriors who love Them as I do.
Finally they reply, If they are true of heart and righteous of spirit and they can handle Our training, which we will provide to you in order to teach, We will bless them with part of Us. You shall call these one hundred forty-four warriors the Sol Guards, for they are warriors of the Sun and will deliver retribution alongside you.
“Thank you,” I say out loud.
The others look at me sharply and with confusion. My face hardens and I stand up from my seat.
“I need volunteers from all of your peoples,” I say, looking at the Dark Lady. “An order of Golden Warriors called the Sol Guard is to be formed. I will train them myself and through them, we will show the world the might and love of our Lights. The scribes will write about us, those who are sent by Them. Those who accept us will be saved from all Darkness.”
“And those who don’t?” Urgnak asks belligerently.
I frown. “They will be overtaken by the enemy,” I tell him, my words guided by my Heavenly Parents. “That is why the Book must be written. That is why word of Them and who They truly are must spread across Argurion. The Darkness has power over this world because we, without knowing it, have rejected the Twin Lights.”
My father looks down, his face grim. “It’s true,” he says sadly. “My own father was able to twist the character of the Lights into something of death and conquest. Even I believed it.”
I walk over to him and place a hand on his shoulder. “The Lights blessed you, Father, because you gave yourself to Them. The power you were able to use came from Them, and it is my intention to train these Sol Guardians to do the same.”
Azhrav looks troubled. “I… I will volunteer,” he says in a shaking voice. “I will be your first student.”