by Matthew Wolf
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. All this time Karil had borne this pain.
“It was a tragic thing, but in that moment the princess, forgive me, the Queen, stepped forth when we most needed her, courageous and strong just like her father, the true king. With little support, she challenged the High Councilor, and swayed those loyal to her side. This only aggravated Dryan. He bears more likeness to monsters than elves. In the wake of the chaos, he sent assassins, the Terma.” Then Temian’s face changed to one of pride. “I and the other Lando, or brethren in your tongue, came to the Queen’s aid and helped her escape from our woods. She sought refuge beyond the Gates while we laid our plans for Eldas’ survival—to return our beautiful land to peace and prosperity.”
Gray was bolstered by the elf’s words, and he appreciated Karil’s resolve all the more. “I apologize for your loss, and while it seems you may have lost a king, you have gained a fine queen in return.”
“You speak truth, Eminas.”
“Forgive me for asking another question. You were at the Gates to help us, and I am thankful for that, but what led you there? Your timing was perfect.”
Temian laughed, “I didn’t believe it at first, but we were informed by a hawk of all things. Elves can tell much from a bird’s flight, and this was no ordinary bird.”
It couldn’t be… How did the hawk know? All this time I thought the creature had disappeared. Gray laughed to himself and his guide looked to him strangely. “I suppose, in a way, I was a part of that,” he replied.
Abruptly, his guide stopped. “We’re here.”
They stood before a tent—twice the height of the others. Its colorful canvas bore a large insignia on one flap that he could not decipher, and on the other a leaf just like Maris’ cloak.
Two guards stood stone-faced before the tent’s large entrance. Their tall pole arms planted to the ground while heavy steel blades gleamed in the light of the sun. A strange tension sat in the air, like the dawn before an imminent battle. He sensed Karil and Rydel within and he embraced the nexus. He marveled as currents of air moved differently around his elvin friend. The elf bowed. “I shall see you soon, Eminas.”
They clasped forearms. “Good luck to you, Temian, and thank you.”
“With the Eminas, luck is already on our side,” Temian replied, “Until next I see you, my friend.” With that, the elf blended back into the bustle of warriors.
Standing before the tent, Gray let the threads of the flow sift through his hands as if he had done it a hundred times before. It was becoming a familiar thread. He slipped the threads beneath the tent and suddenly, voices filled his ears.
“What news of the realm?” Karil, Gray knew immediately.
“Dire news, my Queen,” said another. “The world is in an uproar. The peaceful tribes of the north have banded together, and turned savage. They raid the northern provinces, the peaceful towns and villages all along the Frizzian coast. The southern kingdoms fair no better. Ester and Menalas have erupted into civil war. They fight for a throne that’s been lost for more than two thousand years. The reports of bloodshed span all across the Aster Plains, almost to the foothills of the Farbian desert.”
There was a small silence until Karil replied, “The tribes together is ominous enough, but Menalas and Ester? Are you certain of this? I spare no love for the Menalas Council—in fact I will be the first to admit they are great fools, but the High Elder Fari? She alone would know that the great Kingdoms would never allow their union. Their vast power in the Lieon as a result of their iron mines was far too difficult to overturn.”
“It is only rumors, my queen, but all reports whisper the same.”
He heard Karil sigh. “And what of the Great Kingdoms? Where are the peacekeepers in all of this?” she questioned angrily.
The messenger’s voice darkened, “Treachery. The Kingdoms see insidious acts from the inside out, just like Eldas all over again. What’s more, the Citadel is even more quiet than usual.”
“And at a time like this…” the elvin queen whispered, as if to herself. “And what of the armies of Farhaven?”
Gray could almost feel the messenger’s gaze sink at Karil’s penetrating voice. “The Covai Riders and Median’s Warfleet are still intact, and King Garian is holding his kingdom together with an iron fist and still has a standing army, but that is not the issue. According to all reports, they know not who or what to fight—it is like an invisible demon is sowing strife in all the four corners of the world. Farbs seems to be the only kingdom that has not suffered too much damage.”
“Farbs, Eldas, Median, and Covai are the Great Kingdoms,” a voice seethed. Gray knew it was Rydel. “At all costs, they cannot fall or the whole world will tremble on the brink of ruin.”
“I know this,” Karil said quietly. Though not unkind, it was full of gravity. “King Garian holds strong, that is news to bolster the heart at least. He, and the Kingdom of Water, have always been a force to be reckoned with. We must send word to him at once of Eldas and Dryan’s treachery, if he does not know. He has always been loyal to my family and loved my father dearly. Tell him, I am ready to fight for what is mine. And say it like that exactly.”
Gray was lifted by Karil’s words. “Yes my queen,” the messenger vowed. “And what of the other Great Kingdoms, should I inform them of your return, as well?”
“Not yet,” Karil said slowly, as if weighing her words. “I must wait until we know more. The treachery may run deeper than we expect. What other reports? How fare the elementals?”
“Not good, m’lady. My scouts cannot speak for the dryads or creatures of the wild, but reports say the sprites are all but gone,” stated the messenger.
“Perhaps they do not want to be found?” She questioned.
“No,” replied another abruptly, a strange and different voice full of power. “I can feel it in my blood. Their presence leaves a mark on the threads of magic. They are all dying. It portends ominous evil when magical beings fade from this world.”
Karil spoke again, “Thank you. You may leave,” she ordered. “Remember my words for King Garian, and keep sending your sentinels out. I want to be aware of all that happens here and beyond. Knowledge will be the key to our victory, even if it is bleak. Now go.”
The messenger opened the tent’s flap and bustled past Gray, his scent a mixture of fear and duty. Gray held onto the flows, listening.
“I wish Mura were here,” Karil whispered, softer now.
“Your uncle is with the boy I believe, my queen,” Rydel said.
“The boy is outside, listening to our conversation,” said the deep voice. Gray tensed and loosed the threads.
“Come in, Gray,” Karil called and he entered.
Inside, the tent was even more spacious than it appeared on the outside. He took in the shelves filled with books, with chairs and sitting areas to read. Nearly a dozen elves in green-armor with the same golden trinket as Temian above their hearts leaned over the tables, talking heatedly. But it was not the elves that drew his attention. Beyond the center floor covered in rich purple rugs was a throne, appearing carved from a single tree. There sat Karil, the true image of an elvin queen.
Her brow was drawn down as her silver eyes observed him. Her golden hair was no longer pulled back. Now it flowed down her white gown, while the dress shimmered as if dipped in liquid silver, gracing her slender form like silken water. Rydel had changed as well. He wore a fitted tunic of midnight black with gold trim—flashier than Gray would have expected from him. His silver and black hair fell around his sharp jaw, and his eyes were set upon Gray.
Yet another drew his attention the most and he shifted his gaze from Rydel’s scrutiny. The elf with the deep voice stood behind Karil’s throne. His face was wise with years. He wore a simple moss green robe that matched the color of his hair, and cinched with a belt that appeared woven from vines. Even from this distance, the elf seemed to emanate power.
Gray reminded himself why he was here and str
ode to the center of the tent. “I apologize for my intrusion. I meant no offense. My curiosity simply got the better of me,” he confessed.
Karil laughed and startled him. He was surprised she could laugh after such dark news. “Don’t be sorry,” the elvin queen said. “I can relate well. My father always told me a curious nature is a good trait if well-tempered. Though Rydel claims mine is not so well-tempered.”
“I have given up on that long ago, my queen,” the elf said.
“And a good thing too, my friend,” Karil replied. “Besides, there was nothing your ears shouldn’t have heard. In fact, perhaps it is better that you did as it should save us time, and allow what I have to say to carry its full weight.”
“May I speak first?”
The queen signaled to the others whose conversation had died, watching the exchange—they took her cue and left the tent, carrying their maps underarm. She motioned for him to speak
“I must leave,” he blurted. Karil’s brows drew down and he continued, “I have a feeling whatever you were about to say was contrary to my decision, but I know now that I must go to Farbs to uncover my past.”
“How do you know what I have to say is contrary?” She asked.
He swallowed, but held fast in his reply, “I don’t, and I’m sorry if I was presumptuous. An elf named Temian mentioned you were waiting for me, and that you needed me. But my decision stands regardless.”
“And this decision of yours, you’ve given it much thought?”
Gray laughed slightly, “For the first time in my life I haven’t… and yet, I know this is what I must do. I feel it in my heart, more strongly than I’ve felt anything before.”
Karil nodded slowly. “I see. I learned from my father that one can always tell a person’s truth not by listening to the words they speak, but by hearing the conviction of their heart.” She smiled, “Yours speaks clearly.”
“Your father was wise.”
“You knew my father?”
“On my way here, the same elf told me about him,” he explained. “He also spoke with the conviction of his heart.”
“You’ve been awake for only a short while and it seems like you’ve heard everything there is to know. Can you tell me something though, your decision to leave, is it only to discover who you are?”
“No,” he answered.
Karil’s eyes widened, then they searched his. “You don’t believe the Knife’s Edge is over do you?”
He was taken aback. “You know of the Knife’s Edge?”
“Bits and pieces.”
“I must find it and I believe I know where to start. Where it all began.”
“Farbs,” she replied. Her silver eyes glowed, and he watched her thoughts churn. “I have only ever heard of prophecy spoken, that its written word cannot be held to page as it vanishes beneath the pen. A book of prophecy is a powerful and dangerous thing. To hold the future in one’s hand could spell disaster or salvation.”
He heard commotion behind him, and Ayva and Darius charged in.
“What’s going on?” Ayva exclaimed.
“Where did you two come from?” Rydel asked crossly.
“We’re going too,” Ayva said. Then she hesitated. “Wherever that may be. We are joining you, Gray.”
Darius joined Gray’s side. “No offense, but it’s getting a tad stale here,” he said as he elbowed Gray’s ribs with a smirk. “Miss me much?” The rogue had changed. His dark blue tunic and fitted black pants looked new. Even his stubble was shaved and his always disheveled hair was slightly more ordered.
Ayva gave Gray’s hand a squeeze, and his mouth worked soundlessly. He didn’t know what to say. At last, he smiled. At another time, he might have fought them, convinced them of the danger,or left under the cover of night. Now, in the end, he was only glad for their company.
Karil took in all three. “Then this is where our paths diverge. Perhaps when you discover what you seek, Gray, our causes will unite again. The Great Kingdoms are the lifeblood of this land, and they must not fall. We will need you all before the end.”
“We will be there,” he replied. “I cannot abandon a friend.”
“I nearly forgot. Ayva, I have something for you.” Karil reached behind her throne.
Ayva looked startled. Slant rays of light found their way through the tent’s roof and lit her shiny auburn hair. He looked away, noticing the quiet elf watching him.
“Yes, my queen?” Ayva asked.
Karil bestowed the covered bundle in Ayva’s open hands. “In a journey filled with darkness, you were a beacon of light. This item has been passed down to my mother, a prophet, whose simple smile and constant wisdom was always a guiding light. Go ahead, open it,” the queen ushered.
Ayva threw back the wrapping to unveil a silver dagger, the blade the length of her hand. Eyeing Karil as if she would snatch it back, Ayva lifted it to the light. It gleamed as if it held the brightness of a white sun. “Thank you,” she said, breathless. “It is a king’s gift.”
“A queen’s,” Karil teased and turned to Darius. Gray saw the rogue step back, his expression suddenly innocent. “And you Darius, come forth,” she commanded.
The rogue stepped forward.
“For you, Darius, the most loyal of friends, I have saved a trinket of my father’s crown. It is a mark of great prestige. It would please me greatly for you to have it. It may serve you in your journeys to come, especially amongst those who are loyal to me.” She placed it in his hand.
“It will not leave my sight. Thank you,” he said, holding the trinket tightly in his fist.
“For you Gray, I have only words. You travel in a world unlike anything you have seen before. I must ask—do you know the way?”
“I… do not,” he admitted.
“Rydel will give you a map and directions, but be careful. You may have been born here, but since you have forgotten your past, this world is wholly new to you, and it is a world full of surprises to even the wisest. Farhaven is both beautiful and unpredictable, and you must always be vigilant.
“Furthermore, Farbs does not welcome outsiders. You may enter with your mark,” she said, looking to his wrist, “But Ayva and Darius will be treated as outsiders, and by law, they will be forbidden to enter Farbs. Beware, for the penalty of trespassing is death. And lastly, beware the red moon. Trust each other. Till next we meet, dear Gray.”
Gray bowed his head low. “Until then, my queen.” And with Ayva and Darius at his side he moved to leave.
Darius leaned in, whispering beneath his breath, “What in the light did I just get myself into, and is it too late to back out?”
“Hush you fool,” Ayva whispered back, her hands fawning her silver dagger. Gray laughed as he pulled back the tent’s flap and entered the midday sun.
* * *
Karil watched the tent flap close behind them.
“You just let them go?” Rydel broke rank, striding to stand where only the King was allowed. Absent of a true King, she thought the implacable elf seemed a fine substitute—and truthfully, sharing the heavy weight of rule was a welcome notion. “What was I supposed to do?” she asked.
“All this time we’ve waited for him. What if he dies?”
“He is beyond our control now, Rydel.”
“Still, I don’t think you should have let him go.” There was odd mixture of anger and frustration in Rydel’s voice.
Karil knew where he was coming from, but she remained calm and replied, “My dear friend, you heard his heart as well as I did, I could not change his mind. Even if I could, would that be the ally we want? A young man in chains at our beck and call? I hardly imagine that is how the prophecy intended his role.”
Rydel growled and crossed his arms, “This war is about more than just him.”
“You are right. Events now are far grander than any one person, yet he is not just anyone.”
His brows narrowed, “What are you not telling me?”
Karil looked away. “There was a p
art of the prophecy I did not tell him or you either.”
“The Queen has secrets?” Jiryn, the tall elf behind her said in his confident tone, “It seems you really are assuming the mantle of a queen and quickly. Your mother always held more than enough secrets from me.”
“What does a healer know about this?” Rydel snapped at Jiryn. He touched Karil’s shoulder and bent to her, “I was there when your mother passed away, what could she have told you that I did not hear?”
Karil couldn’t explain it—she had awoken with the prophecy in her head this morning. From everything she knew that wasn’t the way prophecy worked. Prophets were born once a millennium and instilled with the power at birth. Why now? Still, there they had been, words of prophecy. She spoke softly into the vast tent, and her words melded with the magic in the air,
“The Arbiter will ride upon desert winds,
To hidden truths within black walls,
To bring the false king down,
And dance upon the Edge.”
Her eyes looked beyond the canvas walls to where she knew Gray would be receiving his new gift, and riding off to his destiny with his friends at his side, “This is our battle, and Gray has his. I predict this is only the beginning for all of us.”
Made for a King
GRAY ENTERED THE LIGHT OF DAY and there stood Mura. He leaned against a tree with his arms crossed. Without pause, Gray vaulted towards the man, lifting him from the ground. “Mura! Light, am I glad to see you.”
The hermit laughed, and then grumbled. “Settle down boy, you’re going to open your wound.”