The Legacy of Tirlannon: The Freedom Fighter

by Daniel Gelinske

  “The son of Meldehan?” Vintaeus asked, with great interest.

  “No, a protector of his, and the mage blocking our way!”

  Mortuusa noted as the troops moved into the palace. “You broke the barrier, and that is all I ordered you to do.”

  * * *

  Cail pushed against the psychic barrier. Behind the visor of his helm was a face contorted in a feral grimace, but those near him couldn’t see it. The sweat pushed through his forehead and gathered on his brow. Brandishing his cyvnar, he stood mid-thrust—pressing into the barrier, focusing his mind to accumulate his strength to be released by way of his blade into the front line of the Madrocean attack. As he predicted, the barrier dropped, and a loud blast erupted from his blade, which drove through the front line, cutting four soldiers in half at the torso. The sonic boom bursting from his blade knocked the people behind the line back, and deafened many more behind them. Following through with his blade, the cyvnar struck the wooden wall, shredding it deeply before snapping into hundreds of metal shards as Cail let go of the handle. One young Madrocean soldier with scraggly red hair pushed into the Taergeni defenses with the same force, and struck Cail in the temple.

  “The palace is ours!” the soldier shouted, as he raised his sword.

  The elves behind Cail were stunned by the force of the sonic boom as well, and hesitated before stepping into a defensive stance, with their shields facing the attacking Madroceans.

  * * *

  Chenylde reinforced the Lower Throne Room door with statues, the Silver Throne of Andule, bookcases, and a very large desk.

  “They have us,” Threis said quietly. “But the Seven Year Slumber is over. Soon, every lost realm of Tarligean will be united against Cardalia.”

  “There is no escape for us,” Chenylde said as she covered her dress with a chainmail hauberk. Readying her j’haene blade, she continued. “Fidralinia is fallen, but I fall with it.”

  “Fidralinia will be rebuilt,” Threis trailed off. “It will take less than a decade, I would guess.”

  With a blast, the door to the Lower Throne Room was reduced to splinters. Teeth rattled at the volume of the explosion. Soldiers pulled the obstacles Chenylde set in place to the sides as smoke billowed into the chamber. Threis raised his blade, as his eye met the armored man entering the throne chamber.

  “I am Lord General Avos Mortuusa, and I speak with the authority of His Sacred Majesty, Emperor Sacchaeus Medaccae. A great conspiracy against the Throne has been unveiled to us. It has been made evident that this conspiracy includes you—and the entire elfin populace of the Dominion of Fidralinia. All of you are guilty of treason. The penalty for treason is death. Should you ask for mercy now, we will grant it—on the condition that you turn the Son of Meldehan over to us.”

  Governor Mogran smirked, as he stepped over a pile of smoking debris.

  “The Son of Meldehan fell in Cassadina,” Chenylde spat, her lip curling derisively.

  “Not Daecrynn the Younger. Where is he?” Mortuusa demanded.

  “Nowhere in Fidralinia,” answered Threis.

  Mortuusa glanced at Mogran. “Then this city shall burn. No structures will be left standing; and every elf alive shall be slain. These lands are hereby ceded to the Dominion of Namakiera and are now under the authority of Governor Mogran.”

  Mogran grinned smugly.

  “Disarm the Taergeni,” Mortuusa commanded.

  Three soldiers approached Chenylde and Threis. Threis lunged forward, and swung his blade through two of the guards. He thrust his greatsword at Mortuusa. The Lord General parried, and entered the fray. As Chenylde was shackled, Threis fought back. Mortuusa parried defensively, guiding Threis around the fight until Threis’ back was facing the soldiers. Mortuusa nod toward Vintaeus, who struck Threis in the temple with a mace. Threis fell limp, dazed on the Throne Room floor.

  “The lofty elvish dream that is Tarligean dies here,” Mortuusa proclaimed.

  “Not dies, Lord General. Yes, the slumber ends,” Threis said dizzily from the floor. “The dream does end here—for today is the day Tarligean awakens. And what is to come tomorrow, with all of the Seven Realms set against Madrocea? I don’t know, but one thing is certain—Lord Ariandi shall have his revenge!”

  Mortuusa shook his head as he stabbed Threis in the heart. “This elf-woman belongs to you now, Vintaeus. The Dominion of Fidralinia is to be annexed to the Dominion of Namakiera, effective immediately.”

  IV.

  Flight and Departure

  "Beyond the shadow of doubt, beyond the abyss of fear there lies a spark, a glimmer of life that cuts over the abyss as a bridge, and through the shadow as a ray of light."

  - Cilaera, Rhia'li's Veil 12:6

  In rushed flight, the two riders reached a clearing where the edge of the Everwood met with the Nali River. The sun hung low in the eastern horizon. The canyon was thick with growth, and cut some thirty feet below the high plain. The trees in the north grew high, with their canopy hundreds of meters above the edge of the high plain.

  At the edge of the canyon, the riders dismounted, and guided their horses into the wood, following the overgrown Nali highway. Patches of moss, branches and brush grew over the stone. At the front, Daecrynn hacked at the weeds and limbs that grew over the road with Oro’quiel. They froze as a deer jumped their trail from behind them, and darted deeper into the forest. They heard a rustling, and the breaking of a branch.

  Oro’quiel was silent. Daecrynn took comfort in this.

  “There is no danger here,” he gently whispered to Nadali.

  “Milord! Milady!” he heard Kalrys shout behind them.

  “Hush,” Daecrynn commanded with a sharp whisper, recognizing Kalrys’ voice. “Every bounty hunter from here to Namakiera can probably hear your racket!”

  “Sorry,” Kalrys countered sarcastically. “If there was a mind larger than that of a badger within earshot of me, I’d know it. We’d be miles away from here by now, I assure you. You well milady?”

  “I’m fine, Kalrys,” Nadali assured him, exhaling in relief.

  As night fell upon them, Daecrynn found a trail; an old Tuitari soldiers’ trail leading up into the mountains. The moonlight crept into the forest floor through tiny openings in the branches, spilling silver light down in tiny beams. They climbed up to a low ridge in the foothills of the Tuitari Mountains, over the land where Daecrynn ad spent most of his life in flight. At a clearing near the peak, they made their camp.

  “I will search the area and see to it that it is secure, milord. I advise to not start the fire until I return,” Kalrys suggested.

  Daecrynn tied the horse’s lead rope to a tree at the edge of the camp. Nadali secured her mount, as Daecrynn climbed a tree to scan the surrounding area. His fingernails dug into the deep, coarse green moss that covered the trunk, leaping to gain the momentum needed to grasp the first branch. He scaled the tree skillfully, and quickly, until he reached the highest branch that could support his weight.

  The moon was full and large, casting its light over the high forest from its vantage point over the eastern Destriel Mountains. In the northeast, Daecrynn spied a single strand of smoke rising up to the clear, star-filled sky. He observed the orange-red color of flames, torches, and glow orbs, gathered in a semi-circle. It was a camp, but not the Tartali. Daecrynn slipped down, took to the lower branches, and jumped down to the forest floor. As he hiked back to the camp, Kalrys rode back on his horse.

  “Bounty hunters,” Daecrynn informed. “Far from here, but probably not far from home.”

  “I saw nothing. The camp is secure, save for maybe an elk or three down the ridge a ways, and an owl I heard,” Kalrys reported.

  “This camp is safe. The bounty hunters are several miles to the northeast. I think they’re tracking my family. We may wish to split up shortly,” Daecrynn said.

  Nadali stared thoughtfully at Daecrynn for a moment, then back to Kalrys.

  “I was able to grab two tents on our way out,”
Nadali said. “I could share the larger tent with him. You take the first shift, and I will relieve you of duty that you may get some rest in the morning. We shall discuss any splitting up at dawn.”

  “As she said, you cover the first shift, Nadali and I will watch afterward. The smaller tent is yours,” Daecrynn agreed.

  “As you wish,” Kalrys nodded.

  “I don’t think we will want to start a fire,” Daecrynn continued. “With all of the bounty hunters in the woods tonight, we don’t want to betray our location.”

  In silent agreement, they unpacked their tents, and pitched them in the small clearing.

  The night grew cold. The full moon climbed across a crisp clear sky, showered with playfully dancing, yet stationary stars.

  Daecrynn could not sleep. In his bedroll, he stared directly ahead of him, at the wall of the tent, listening carefully to every noise in the woods about him. He felt the eyes of Nadali on his back, but did not move to betray his knowledge of her observation. As he finally drifted off to sleep, his mind wandered erratically.

  Hours into the night, he awakened—one eye first, lying on his back. Nadali was fast asleep, snuggled close to him, her arm draped over his chest. Her warm breath on his shoulder sent a chill across the skin of his back.

  ‘I must become a stranger; I must become nobody. I cannot be the rogue noble they expect to me, but I must hide in plain sight,’ Daecrynn thought.

  Gazing down to Nadali as she held him, wondering at her precise beauty, he smiled warmly as he placed his hand on her shoulder, then over her back gently.

  ‘Though I am in flight, there is a stillness here,’ he contemplated

  The tent’s door opened, and General Kretali’s head peeked in. Startled at the sight of Nadali and Daecrynn’s embrace, he exclaimed, “Oh milord, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” swiftly pulling his head out of the tent’s entrance.

  “Nothing interrupted, friend,” Daecrynn assured him. “I will let her sleep. Get some rest, Kalrys.”

  “As you wish,” Kalrys concurred.

  Daecrynn carefully slipped out of bed, as Nadali deeply groaned in protest at his departure. He slipped back into his clothes, donned his boots, and slipped out the tent quietly as to not wake her.

  As Kalrys retired, Daecrynn scoped out the highest tree within walking distance, and climbed to the pinnacle. In the southeast, he observed clouds forming in the sky. The bumps and edges of valleys and mountains on the moon were visible to his eyes. Nothing seemed out of place around him. His mind drifted, as his eyes fixated on the moon.

  When morning came, Nadali awoke first. She searched about the camp. As she approached the tree where Daecrynn kept his watch, he leaped from the top down, landing on his feet. Nadali greeted him with her sword at his throat.

  “Oh it’s only you. Don’t ever do that again...milord,” Nadali requested, as she curled her lip in annoyance.

  “You do not need to call me by title, Nadali—especially now. Not until the time is right, anyways. We need to vanish, blend, and disappear without a trace—camouflage if you will. Hide as common folk. Namakiera is a large city, we could blend into the crowd and be forgotten,” Daecrynn pondered.

  “I think I understand, but—“ Nadali gazed sideways at Daecrynn, questioning without words.

  “Nadali, you are a rare jewel. Deadly in battle, yet perfect in beauty,” Daecrynn said as he returned Nadali’s stare.

  He touched her hand gently, and held it, lifting it up to kiss it softly.

  “And you make me curious, in the same ways I seem to make you,” Daecrynn sang playfully. “Am I wrong?”

  “No,” Nadali flushed, smiling broadly. “Not in the slightest,” she acknowledged softly.

  “Then all is well,” declared Daecrynn as he leaned in to kiss her.

  “Milord—“ Kalrys interrupted, as he rose from his tent in his navy blue General’s uniform.

  Daecrynn broke the kiss, and glanced at Kalrys betraying a slight hint of annoyance in his eyes.

  "Call me Derefin. Do not call me milord. Derefin is my name now. I am Derefin the Bowyer, House Morcossi. Daecrynn Tuvitor is dead for now. Understand?" Daecrynn ordered, as Nadali pulled out of the embrace gently, with a mischievous grin on her lips.

  "A wise choice milord," Kalrys commented. "Morcossi?"

  "Yes," Daecrynn stated.

  "Derefin it is," he confirmed.

  Nadali hugged Daecrynn tight, and kissed him on the cheek. "Call me Eliana. Its my erm... second name."

  "Eliana, I think I can remember that," Daecrynn commented. "I am going to separate from both of you here. Tartali Camp is not far. I recognize the landmarks and know what path they were traveling. I need to say my goodbyes. We will meet in Namakiera, a fortnight from now. "

  "Milord. Derefin. May I speak freely?" Kalrys asked.

  "Yes, at any time. You are my advisor now. You have lived the urban life long enough to understand how to blend in well in places such as Namakiera. I can learn from you, so speak your mind," Daecrynn said.

  "I don't know if Namakiera is the best place to hide in plain sight. It is a center of commerce for the Madrocean Empire, and a center of bureaucracy for its northernmost regions. I don't believe there is any way in Verduhn you can stay hidden there. If they see you, they will kill you and place your sword above the Imperial Throne in Cardalia. It may even end up in the hands of the Thoth. Who knows what secrets the magic in that sword could reveal to them," Kalrys explained.

  "They don't need to see Oro'quiel. They do not need to see my House colors, the Tuvitor brooch that fastens my cape, or any sign whatsoever of who I am. I will be a nobody. A commoner. An average man of Taergeni blood. Just another untouchable for the Madroceans to spit on and step on," Daecrynn rebutted.

  "It's a very risky idea sir," Kalrys retorted.

  "Indeed," Daecrynn remarked.

  Nadali looked upon Daecrynn and said, "Wouldn't the both of us together catch the eyes of those who sacked Fidralinia?"

  "I will wear the garb of a common beggar youth. They're looking for rogue royalty, not drifters," Daecrynn stated.

  "Ok, I see that your mind is set in this," Nadali said playfully.

  They made their preparations, packing their belongings, and ate a basic breakfast of bread and dried rations. They spoke of the long road ahead of them, of dreams of freedom, and of a united Taergeni kingdom under the banner of Andriel, and they spoke of hope. Then they took their separate paths, as Nadali and Kalrys Kretali took to a southern path, leading into Namakiera, and Daecrynn took to the northeast, moving deeper into the Everwoods.

  V.

  The Canyon Trail

  “As the winds of destiny guide the sail of my heart and thoughts, so shall the breath of the stars carry me.”

  –Majestrix ai-Tu’fayator, 209 B.C.E.

  At noontide, after a short but sad parting, Daecrynn vanished into the woods north of the hills in which they camped the last night. Nadali and Kalrys quietly ventured south, to the edge of the wood where the Nali Canyon began. As the day progressed, the skies grew cloudy.

  Kalrys had changed out of his uniform, and wore simple clothing he had in his satchel that he had saved for more casual occasions. He wore a gray shirt, cape, and black trousers with simple, yet sturdy leather boots. Nadali wore a simple cotton weave dress, with tiny embroidered roses in a pattern around the neck. Over her dress, she wore a simple brown cape, with a silver orchid brooch.

  The canyon sat in a narrow valley, parting the Namakiera plain across east and west divides. As they ventured closer to the city, they discovered a trail that was not marked on any maps. The brush alongside the trail was well-trimmed, and a freshly laid wagon track revealed recent usage. Carefully, they continued down the trail, noticing the telltale signs in the yew and willow trees that certain branches had been carefully plucked, harvested for their staves to be carved by bowyers.

  “This is a Taergeni road. I suggest we follow it to its end,” Kalrys suggested.

&nbs
p; “Lead on,” Nadali agreed.

  As dusk set in, they were halfway down the canyon. The sky was a dull blue color, filled with rain clouds, and violet overtones in the west. There was a vague scent of flame, rich and oaken. Kalrys climbed up an oak tree, and navigated around the branches, peering into every direction to observe the landscape. The depression along both sides of the Nali canyon was covered with grass, and reasonably shallow, about the height of three greater oak trees. He saw mostly darkness from the land, save for a vague orange glow, flickering gently under a copse of trees close to a mile southward.

  He dropped from the tree, and landed quietly on his feet.

  “A camp of Taergeni is set about nine kiriye from here. I don’t know if they are refugees, or if they are bandits, but we are swiftly running out of supplies, and Namakiera is still another day south through the canyon,” reported Kalrys. As his eyes wandered toward a carefully pruned yew tree, he continued. “My hunch is that they are military in background. The cutting style says Namakiera Fifth Infantry, maybe Third.”