Mythborn

by Lakshman, V.

  Mikal took the lead, as he always did. Thick in limb and trunk, the king looked like he dwarfed his brother even though they stood of equal height. He was followed by gray-haired Ureyl and the slim Zedakai. Bringing up the rear was Israfel, his stern face and determined walk mirroring his rigid spirit, and finally, Gabreyl.

  They stood waiting besides their chairs until Valarius had seated himself. Then all five sat as attendants came to stand silently behind each one, ready to provide assistance.

  It was Mikal who spoke first, looking at the highlord and saying, “Valor is here.”

  Valarius turned to his brother in life and said, “How do you know?”

  A smile creased the lord’s face when he answered, “You don’t know the hours I spent under the armsmasters’ enthusiastic tutelage. The bow is a force, a presence, and trust me it’s here. I feel it in my bones.”

  Israfel cleared his throat. “I, too, can feel it. I did not know it was Valor until my father gave name to its pull.” He looked around the room, his visage a burning intensity of thought. Israfel’s gaze pierced each man until it finally came to rest on Valarius. “Ill winds accompany it wherever it goes.”

  “It depends on which side of the sight you stood.” Valarius shrugged, unfazed by Israfel’s directness and asked, “Can you find it?”

  “Perhaps,” answered the brooding Mikal. “I would need help.”

  Gabreyl looked around the room, confused. “Why? There are more pressing concerns.”

  Valarius turned to his youngest Messenger and said, “If Valor is here, it means there’s also another Galadine here.”

  Understanding dawned and Gabreyl was quick to offer, “Then let me aid my elder grandfather and lead the party to recover our kinsman.”

  “If that’s the best path, yes. However, it may be we can entice whomever carries the bow to come here.” The highlord looked around the chamber and then counted off on his fingers. “We know it is not Bernal, for we have not heard from Firstmark Malak and only the realignment of the gate would give someone within Bara’cor access to Arcadia.” He paused, thinking, then raised a second finger. “It might be one of the few who entered this realm in search of the two boys, the ones brought by Lilyth.”

  “Who is the Galadine amongst them?” asked Ureyl. While they knew a few had come through a portal shortly after Arek and Niall, they did not know who or their exact number. The question therefore hung in the air, unanswerable for the moment.

  Valarius raised a third finger. “Likely the princess, Yetteje Tir, daughter to the failed Ben’thor Tir, who even now serves the Lady. I’d hoped it would be Niall who held the bow, but clearly he does not. The only reason to risk Arcadia is to rescue one or both of the boys.” He was quiet, thinking. He needed information, something only one person would have, but the question now was impropriety. He weighed the risks carefully, then looked at the room, uttering one word:

  “Sonya.”

  Cries of protest and surprise could be heard from the assembled kings. A gasp tore from Mikal’s lips and he said, “You cannot! Have we not already shamed ourselves enough?”

  Valarius did not respond to that, but he bent his considerable will to the task and said, “I summon thee.”

  Slowly, the form of Sonya appeared, her hands clasped before her. She solidified, looking at the men in the room, her eyes finally falling on Valarius. “My husband, protecting me against all harm.”

  Valarius felt a knot in his throat and knew if he began discussing his actions he would not have the strength to continue. So instead he said, “Arek—who seeks to rescue him?”

  The shade tossed her head, looking now at the table. Only Israfel met her gaze, the rest looking down or away. “Are you proud of yourselves, noble kings?”

  First there was silence. Then Israfel said, “We did what we must to safeguard Edyn. You took an oath to do the same.”

  “Then why not ask me!” she yelled.

  Valarius held up a hand, silencing Israfel, and said, “Blood magic requires true sacrifice. My heart had to be broken to power a spell such as the one that sent Malak to Bara’cor. If I could have done anything else, I would have.” He knew he’d fallen into the very thing he wanted to avoid, but faced with Sonya’s shade he felt his will crumbling.

  “Then why not transport us? Why not rescue us if you could breach Bara’cor? We could have left Arcadia and lived again,” she implored, her eyes searching his own.

  He could not stand that scrutiny. “For how long? Running to Edyn would have only insured our deaths when Lilyth and her Aeris arrived. War is inevitable and if there’s to be any hope, desperate measures are needed.”

  “So clinical, so logical,” she spat. “A true testament of what being loved by a Galadine means.”

  “I’m sorry for the actions we must take,” Valarius said. “Now, you have a choice.”

  Sonya’s shade looked down, shaking her head. It was not clear if she was listening or not until she said, “Use ‘we’ whenever possible, husband. It absolves you from the ignoble weight of ‘I.’ Nevertheless, I am bound to your summons to speak. I care not for your needs.”

  Valarius drew a breath, surveying the room. Mikal had his head in his hands and most of the other kings looked grief-stricken. None it seemed wanted this to last longer than necessary. Only Israfel seemed untouched, but he had been the king who had overseen the genocide of the mages once his father Mikal had gone. Clearly his heart was not moved by one person’s plight. Valarius met eyes with him, drawing strength for his next request.

  Then he looked back at Sonya and said, “Who seeks Arek?” When she did not answer, he said, “I compel you, shade.” His heart hardened too, and he said what he had to. “One thrust of my elven blade will give you true death and you shall never see your son in this life or any other. Weigh that against answering me.”

  Sonya looked up in alarm. “You would threaten me with my son? Is there no end—”

  “No!” shouted Valarius. “There is no end to what I will do to save our world from the Aeris.” He stepped forward and drew his blade, his peripheral vision catching his family’s heads as they dropped. No matter, he would kill her again if necessary, and this time the magic of his blade would mean true death. His was not an idle threat.

  Sonya shrank back, her eyes flicking back and forth between the blade and his countenance. Whatever she saw there must have convinced her, for in a small, tremulous voice she said, “Duncan.”

  Her proclamation caused a raised eyebrow from the elven king, who looked askance at his dead wife. “How do you know?”

  “I saw him,” she admitted. “I think I know my former husband.”

  “You told him Arek is his son?” Valarius’s voice did not rise, he simply asked the question with deadly intensity.

  “Yes.” There was a hint of challenge in her voice, but Valarius did not react to it.

  Instead, he merely said, “Indeed. Does he think we have him?”

  Sonya looked down then gave a hesitant shake of her head. She stood a little straighter, as if the act of telling had somehow removed some of her culpability. “I told him not to come here.”

  “Then it is certain he will,” replied Valarius, his eyes measuring her for any sign of conflict. He could only see fear and sadness, normal given what had happened just now. He could live with that.

  He looked out over the open skies of Arcadia, his mind deep in thought. “Duncan Illrys… I owe him much for his betrayal.”

  Mikal cleared his throat and said, “And that has been paid for in full and more. I let loose the arrow that—”

  “Brought Sonya to me.” Valarius looked meaningfully at Mikal, then at Sonya. His will was such that neither argued the point. “Do not be so quick to shoulder his blame. He was weak, powerless, and ineffectual. My benevolence left me vulnerable to Duncan’s trickery. Along with Rai’stahn, the two of them deserve my attention more than most.”

  Mikal shook his head at that, imploring, “Let it go, Val. Wha
t has he left? You took everything that mattered. Are we not Galadines, called upon to be nobler in word and deed? When will your thirst for vengeance be slaked?” He pointed to Sonya. “Bringing her here is unseemly of you.”

  Valarius looked at the king, his eyes narrowing as his mind raced through possible outcomes. If Duncan was here and looking for his son, how would he find him? Oftentimes it was easier to put oneself in another’s place, so the highlord asked himself how he would pursue this if their positions were reversed. He had already taken the first step by having Gabreyl suggest that the highlord was Arek’s father. That would give the boy purpose, a goal to strive for. Now the question was how to properly motivate Duncan?

  He looked at Sonya again, the love of his life, dead by his hand. He knew she could not materially affect anything, yet Duncan’s plight might sway her to do what she could to protect him, so how could he turn that to his advantage?

  “You offered him help?” he asked her, entirely ignoring Mikal’s earlier plea.

  Sonya nodded. “I thought to lead him to where he might find allies.”

  “Good,” he said. Then he added, “Very good.” He thought for a moment more, knowing the key to getting here would be the henges. “You will not lead him anywhere. Instead, I will send him Tulien and a contingent of elves. He is the newest.”

  Sonya fell to her knees, her hands up and said, “Please have mercy? Leave him be. Mikal is right. If fate had not twisted as it had we would never have found each other. If you ever loved me in life, have mercy.” Her eyes glistened as she said this, and Valarius saw the fear for Duncan manifest in those tears, but it did not sway him.

  He nodded but said, “I did love you, but I love Edyn more.” The statement fell like a rock, silencing any reply. He turned to Gabreyl, “Tulien will bring him here. Then we will see what Duncan Illrys has to say about choices made when concerning our family.”

  He then turned to the shade of his former wife and said, “Do not doubt that if you betray me, if you inform Arek or Duncan of what we have planned, I will know. He held up his blade and said, “I will give you true death, and while that may not deter you, it will also mean you will never see Arek again.” He did not wait to hear her answer but gestured, banishing her. When she’d disappeared he turned to the table.

  “You feel I pushed too far?”

  “Yes,” nodded Mikal. “What you did is incomprehensible.”

  “Really?” asked Valarius. “Do you find hope in the hearts of traitors and sycophants?”

  Mikal’s eyes flared at that but Valarius continued, “She loved another but chose to be with me for expediency! Do not lecture me, for you forget that we spent many years together in life without so much as a word. Her ‘love’ for me grew here, only when her and her son’s survival hung in the balance. Is that love? Is that something you pray for, O King?” Valarius was silent then, looking at Mikal with the intensity that demanded an answer.

  Mikal turned to his brother and said, “Have you not done the same?”

  Valarius slammed the table with his palms. “Do not question me!”

  They stared at each other, but it was Mikal who dropped his eyes and said, “You are our highlord. I do not question your love for her or us.”

  There was silence at that, until Valarius said, “King Mikal is right. Our family is bonded by love. I pledge that to each of you now, and ask you to follow me through this last, most difficult part. We are the salvation of Edyn. If anyone doubts that, I welcome your departure from this table.”

  There was silence but no one looked even close to ready to leave. He looked at each lord and was satisfied that they met his gaze without hubris. Still, there was a hesitant chorus of ‘ayes’ at his stare, as each king reaffirmed his fealty. Valarius looked at everyone, taking measure. Without a doubt summoning Sonya was not sitting well with them, but his actions had also shown him their level of commitment to his cause.

  He turned his attention back to Gabreyl. “You told Arek that the highlord was his father, yes?”

  “As you instructed, my lord.”

  “And his response?”

  The armsmark thought about it, then answered, “He seemed quite perturbed that I would not tell him your name.”

  Valarius chewed his lip, thinking. “We have not lied to him? It is important that no vow has been broken. Our power lies in the integrity of our faith, and that faith is eroded if we suborn his allegiance to our cause.”

  Gabreyl quickly reassured everyone by saying, “Nothing was said that would cause the Way to challenge us, or him. He is still unsullied.” He looked around the table, then carefully said, “But there is more to discuss.”

  The armsmark turned to Ureyl, who continued to stare at his own hands. Clearly the elder warrior was reluctant to speak, but when Valarius cleared his throat, Ureyl risked a quick glance at his ruler.

  Something in the highlord’s expression must have convinced him to continue. “There are rumors,” he said.

  “Of what?” Valarius demanded.

  Ureyl raised his eyes and met Valarius’s own. “Azrael has returned.”

  Valarius sat back, stunned. That he’d once been subject to the unholy union of Aeris and flesh abhorred him, but he knew it had been a necessary evil. Only the Ascended could battle the Aeris. That is, until Valarius had discovered the means to create the purebloods, his elves.

  Now he could wage war without the need to give his mind or body over to any other spirit, however well-intentioned. These unbonded Aeris called themselves Furies, and represented a fundamental danger as they enticed powerful mages to complete their ritual. It was true there were only a few left: Petra, Heracles, and a few others. But Azrael was one of the most powerful and could not be left unchecked.

  “Where was he seen?” Valarius asked, looking at the warrior known for his pragmatism.

  Ureyl opened his hands. “Our scouts say near Olympious. He was bonded at least, so in that there is some small measure of justice.”

  “Justice? All that means is we must kill the avatar, an innocent mage of Edyn tricked into believing Ascension is the answer.” Valarius leaned back, his frustration becoming a long exhale that ended with a fist slamming into the table.

  He looked up at the five men arranged around him and barked, “Why do we sacrifice?” There was no answer and he’d expected none. He answered his own question, “Each life we take gives us one more soldier against these Aeris. Each consecration gives us one more of the pureblood, a warrior who can leave this realm and start anew as a defender of Edyn.”

  Valarius rose and walked over to the open wall, his golden amber eyes tracking to the horizon. “We do not celebrate when we kill Ascended for they are victims of lies. It is for only this reason that I have kept myself unbonded, so that the sacrifice of Arek can have meaning.”

  He turned and met each of their eyes before uttering his commands. “We will accelerate our plans. Have our men stationed at every henge within Avalyon. Arek, Duncan, or both will come here, and we must be ready.”

  Ureyl asked, “How can you be sure?”

  Valarius thought for a moment. There were many variables to consider. He did not know if the boy knew of his true father. He asked Gabreyl, “What were the two boys like when together? Close?”

  Gabreyl tilted his head. “Close, but not inseparable. It was clear Niall depended on Arek more so than the other way around.”

  That made sense. Valarius knew Arek had been crafted to be independent. Any bond that grew between the two could not be counted on to bring them together. Still, Gabreyl had done his job well, and Arek believed the highlord to be his father.

  And am I not? Valarius asked himself. It had been his power, his indomitable will, which had shaped the boy as he grew in Sonya’s womb. It had been his love that had given the boy a chance at a life, a life with a greater destiny. That love would bring him here more surely than anything else.

  He looked at the assembled kings and said, “The boy seeks to understa
nd who he is. He will bring himself here, following the path I have laid out for him.” Valarius looked back out over Arcadia and said, “Once here, he will be our final and greatest sacrifice, as was always intended.”

  He looked back at Mikal and finally answered, “Duncan will stay alive long enough to see his son possessed by me, and then my vengeance on him will finally come to an end.”

  Blood Magic

  Honor has its place, as does ill repute,

  Justice has its place, as does corruption,

  Mercy has its place,

  Alongside cruelty and vengeance.

  - Rai’kesh, The Lens of Leadership

  Duncan inspected the henge, thinking how form followed function, the archaic structure a reflection of the simple spell it contained. The stonework served as a physical reminder to a mage, a concrete guide to channeling the Way. This allowed the transitional gate to open between two places, not unlike a finder, except a finder focused on a person rather than a location. When one realized the power it took to be able to visualize a path without the henge, one could appreciate Lilyth’s more powerful ability to gate almost anywhere without the use of such physical aids.

  It was doubtful someone of Valarius’s power would need anything like a henge to effect a transfer, but it was clear the elves were different. They needed the physical location and the belief of blood sacrifice. The knowledge of gates was one of the foundations of the Old Lore, something any true mage would know. Tying it to a blood sacrifice however was both ingenious and heartless. Without that key, travel to Avalyon would be impossible.

  The utilitarian solution Valarius had devised to protect his lands spoke not just to the man’s mastery of the Old Lore, but also his ability to use his elves’ superstition and faith for his own benefit. The blood sacrifice acted as a key because his people believed in it, and that fact reminded Duncan to never underestimate the archmage he knew so well.

  If the shade of Sonya was to be believed these elves were born of Valarius’s own blood. That would make them all related, an army of elven Galadine brothers loyal to each other until the very last one fell. Knowing how each Galadine had enough hubris and bloodlust to be named conqueror in his own right, he wondered what a horde of them would be like. Duncan couldn’t help but shudder at the thought.