The Blade Heir (Book 1)

by Daniel Adorno

  Siegfried scoffed. "Even if I shoot my bow with the grace of a seabird of Und, you will not nominate me again, nor will you consider Lucius, who I dare say, shoots an arrow with skill rivaling the best archers of Verdania."

  "Alright, Siegfried," Helmer spoke before Quetulya had a chance to chide his son. "You have had your say in this matter. Go and compete, if you so choose."

  Siegfried sighed and glared at Quetulya one last time before he clutched his bow and walked away from the green seal. Lucius followed him reluctantly, asking whether he would compete or not. Siegfried didn't answer and kept walking away from the square toward the Royal Road. Lucius stopped at the edge of the seal and watched him for a while until the blast of Kiret's horn filled the air. The archery tournament was about to begin.

  The elves grew silent and hurried to their positions, both spectators and competitors. Lucius did not wish to compete without Siegfried present. But he knew this would be the last chance to show Quetulya and the Council he was worthy of being chosen to be a Protector. He hurried toward the green seal, grabbing his bow from the spot on the floor where he had left it. He pulled the bowstring a few times to prepare his arm muscles for the contest while he listened to Kiret and Athri state the rules of the tournament. It was nothing new to him. Various targets would be set up at differing distances and had to be hit within a predetermined time limit. Accuracy, speed, and grace were of the utmost importance.

  After another poem to D'arya was recited by one of the Cyngorell, Lucius and the rest of the competitors lined up. Athri commanded them to nock their arrows and aim. The tall, attractive elf raised her hand as the contestants readied themselves. A few seconds later, her hand dropped and Lucius released his arrow.

  THREE

  Revelations of Lineage

  “Your skills were unmatched, Lucius," Helmer complimented as they walked down the western road.

  "If that is so, then why didn't the Council nominate me, Father?" Lucius replied, knowing the answer.

  Helmer looked up at the Great Tree's high branches as they passed underneath, perhaps seeking an answer hidden among the leaves. "Lucius, you know the sensitivities of the elf-folk of Evingrad. There is a marred history between the elves and men."

  "Yes, the Battle of Verdania, I know," he confessed.

  "Then you should also know that the elves have not yet forgotten the savagery of such times."

  Lucius looked down and kicked a twig on the road. "But I wasn't present during those times! Why am I looked upon with such contempt?"

  "It is not you whom they have contempt for, Lucius. It is your people. Since the time when mankind stepped into Azuleah, they have only shown the elves their insatiable lust for power over this land." Helmer turned a corner behind a moss-covered house onto the northern lane that led to the Silverhart house.

  "I understand the bane my people have been to this world and to the elves, but have these qualities been seen in me, my lord?" He stopped at the intersection of the roads.

  Helmer turned around to face him, "No, Lucius. They certainly have not. I daresay you are unequaled among the men of this world. And it is for good reason that I embraced you into my house eighteen winters past. You may not yet know it, Lucius, but your life is of great value to the elves and to your kin."

  Lucius raised a brow. He had never heard his father speak of him this way. When he attempted to get more answers from the wise sage, his father dismissed them. Helmer put his hands on his shoulders affectionately and said, "The answers to the questions you seek are soon coming, like the dawn of a winter's night. Have patience, my son. Come, I am curious to see what Siegfried has been up to in these passing hours."

  They continued to walk down the road, walking past many elves who were on their way to the oval courtyard to see the three newest Protectors of Verdania: Isis, Mora, and Thrinmiel. The sun was beginning to descend in the western sky, and a gilded hue fell upon the verdant houses of Evingrad and the narrow road they traveled.

  They soon arrived at the stone arch of the Silverhart estate and saw Siegfried sitting in the courtyard playing his wooden flute. Birds in the bushes and branches of Breninmaur chirped along with the notes of his joyful melody. Some fluttered away when Lucius walked up to him. Siegfried appeared to be in a trance while he played his song with fluidity and grace. Each note filled Lucius' ears with peace, and he found himself unconsciously swaying to the rhythm of the enchanting song.

  Siegfried opened his eyes after a few more notes and looked up at Lucius and Helmer in surprise. "You've arrived! How great it is to see you both," he smiled.

  "That song was beautiful, Sieg. I didn't know you were so skilled in playing the flute," Lucius said, still in a slight daze from the enchanting music.

  "I have played the telyn since my mother still walked this land. She taught me the song of Prince Mervenyon. But it has been almost an age since I last played it," he said sorrowfully.

  "You have played it with the grace and skill that she once did, Siegfried," Helmer walked up from behind Lucius to greet him. They grabbed one another's forearms and slowly pulled each other closer, until their foreheads pressed softly together—the common greeting among the Evingrad elves.

  "Tell me, Lucius," Siegfried turned to face him, "how did you fare in the archery tournament?""

  Lucius looked down and tugged slightly on his bowstring, "Not well."

  Helmer took a deep breath, "I shall be inside my study should any of you need me. Siegfried, make sure you tell Peniel to serve some pomegranate mead tonight at the table."

  Siegfried nodded, and Helmer walked toward the house and disappeared inside the atrium. Siegfried looked over at his brother and asked him about the contest. Lucius was hesitant at first, but with some gentle persuasion, he finally told his older brother what had occurred.

  There were fifteen archers at the ready when Athri signaled for them to shoot. All of them released their arrows at the sacks of hay and hit their marks. Lucius was confident his arrows would find their mark on the next two targets.

  The next target was a wooden cube, which had been enchanted to dodge all of the archer's shots as it flew wildly in the air. Lucius had missed his first two shots, but his last shot struck the small cube. Only a few elves had been able to land their arrows on the marked sides of the cube, which included Isis, Mora, and Thrinmiel. There were only six competitors left to participate in the final round after the others had been dismissed by the Cyngorell. Quetulya watched intently as Athri and Kiret brought the last target out into view. It was around six feet tall and covered with a silk cloth. The two Protectors pulled the silk cloth from it and revealed a cage with a banshee inside. The banshee floated inside like a surreal mist and watched them with shiny red eyes. Her face was gray and luminescent with a mouth full of jagged teeth. Though banshees pass through physical barriers with ease, this one could not leave the confines of her prison because it was constructed of efydd—an exquisite metal imbued with magical properties and created by the elves long ago. Efydd was one of the few substances in Azuleah capable of killing banshees, and the tips of each of the competitors' arrows were made from it.

  Kiret and Athri opened the cage doors without warning, and the banshee flew out in haste. Her scream pierced the air, greatly distracting Lucius and the others who tried to shoot the nightmarish creature above their heads. The banshee avoided all of the arrows whizzing past her spectral form, dodging with fiendish speed. Lucius nocked another arrow in his bow as the banshee spiraled down toward him, mouth gaping wide and ready to tear into his flesh. Lucius fumbled with his bow, trying to take aim at the banshee's head, but before the creature finished its ferocious dive, Isis landed an arrow in its side. The banshee howled in pain and ascended into the sky. Mora and Thrinmiel both shot at the creature's heart as it twirled into the tangled branches above. Their arrows found their target, and with a sharp cry, the banshee fell from the air, her ghastly corpse evaporated before hitting the ground. A loud cheer came from the crowd, which h
ad watched the spectacle in apprehensive silence from the moment the banshee escaped her cage.

  Lucius stood with his head hung low as the Cyngorell congratulated the three elves who felled the banshee and were now Protectors. One moment had cost him victory and a place among the great elves of Evingrad. Though he was merely a man, he desired greatly to be accepted by the D'arya elves, just as Siegfried and Helmer had accepted him. But perhaps such thinking was folly and his kind would never find a reconciliation or acceptance among the elves.

  Siegfried nodded his head throughout the recounting of the tournament, "A banshee is not an easy opponent to strike with arrows, my friend. However, you have proved your bravery and skill in battle"

  "How can that possibly be? I was not chosen to be a Protector of the Great Tree. I was not worthy, Siegfried," he said, walking past him and entering the atrium of the Silverhart house.

  "You know so little about your worth, dear brother," Siegfried said quietly as Lucius entered the house.

  Night descended upon Evingrad like a velvet curtain falling from the heavens revealing the blue light of the stars in the vastness of the summer sky. Lucius, Siegfried, and Helmer sat in the dining hall of the Silverhart estate around a long, oval table. Helmer sat at one end while Lucius and Siegfried sat across from each other. They all delighted in the feast Peniel, the housemaid, had prepared for them. The table was decorated with an array of colors, delicious aromas, and exquisite delicacies that Lucius reveled. He particularly enjoyed the loaf of omer bread made from the sap of Breninmaur's branches. A single slice tasted sweeter than honey and nearly satisfied his appetite. A roast of Verdanian sheep and fresh apricots also lay upon the table on silver platters. The large spread reminded Lucius of the grand banquets Aldronian kings hosted in the epic stories Helmer had shared with him as a child. Rounding out the feast lying on the table was a pitcher of pomegranate mead, which was highly favored by the D'aryan elves. It was poured on special occasions and rarely drank otherwise. Lucius could not imagine what occasion this might be, considering both he and Siegfried had failed to become Protectors of Evingrad.

  When they had finished the main course and their mead, Peniel entered the dining hall with a small silver platter in her hands. She had the appearance of a young girl: fair skin, auburn hair, and sparkling emerald eyes. Despite her appearance of youth, she was an elf maiden who had served her masters generations before even Helmer was born.

  She placed the small platter in the middle of the table and bowed her head slightly, "An elderberry torte for my lords before they retire?"

  Helmer smiled, "Thank you, Peniel."

  She bowed her head again and silently walked out of the room and into the kitchen.

  Helmer cut the pastry and served his sons. The torte had a delectable taste and put Lucius' mind at ease as he ate it. They finished their dessert in silence, and Peniel stepped in again to gather their dishes. Siegfried departed to his room after bidding Lucius and his father goodnight. Lucius sought to do the same, but Helmer asked if he would join him in the study.

  Lucius followed the elf sage inside his private study for only the second time in his life. The first time, he was eleven years old and stepped inside without permission. He remembered seeing Helmer and Siegfried arguing about something. He had entered thinking they had called his name, but later learned the argument had been about him, the details of which have eluded him ever since.

  Once inside, Helmer asked Lucius to take a seat in a wicker chair in front of a large desk adorned with the Silverhart crest on its side. The desk was piled with dusty tomes and scrolls. At the far end of the room stood large bookcases lining the entire wall, and mysterious runes inscribed on parchments hung on the wall closest to the door. Beeswax candles flickered on an ornate candelabrum beside a lattice window where the moonlight shone through and into the study. The combination of candlelight and moonlight gave the room an ethereal glow. There was a heavy smell of aged paper and leather inside, but it was a pleasing aroma to Lucius.

  "It has been eight years since you first stepped into this room unannounced, Lucius. Do you remember?" Helmer questioned behind twinkling eyes.

  Lucius looked around, "I do remember."

  "It has been with great apprehension and excitement that I have awaited your entry again into this study for a revelation that will surely change your life."

  "I don't understand, my lord," he furrowed his brow.

  "Lucius, have I told you how you came to be in Verdania?"

  "Yes, of course. I was left on the steps of the Marble Gate inside a woven sack. You and Siegfried found me upon returning from an errand in Numa," he said proudly.

  Helmer shook his head. "I'm afraid it isn't true, Lucius. Tonight I wish to reveal the true account and why your arrival to Evingrad was more than mere fate."

  Lucius leaned back on the chair, anxiously awaiting the truth that had been withheld from him. Helmer took a seat in the large chair behind the desk and fixed his gaze on Lucius. For a moment, Helmer hesitated to speak. But after a heavy sigh, he leaned forward and began.

  "It was not I who found you nineteen winters ago, Lucius. Nor was it Siegfried. The Protector whom you fought in combat today, Kiret, he found you beside the Marble Gate during that chilly night. You were wrapped in bundles of wool blankets inside a woven sack, crying desperately into the night for someone to find you. Kiret was keeping watch on the outskirts of Verdania that night when he heard your shrill cries. He thought it was some trick of an unknown enemy to leave an infant at the steps of the Marble Gate. But when he realized it was not, he had pity on you. He fed you some of his rations and brought you back to the Great Tree and to Evingrad. He saved you, Lucius."

  Lucius furrowed his brow. The elf who nearly killed me in combat saved me?

  "He did not know what to do with you at the time," Helmer continued. "It is within the nature of elves to help any creature in need, even a child of men."

  "Kiret brought you before the Cyngorell, placing your fate in their hands. Quetulya believed your arrival at Evingrad was a great omen to the elves and in direct defiance of D'arya. He admonished Kiret for his irrational act and demoted him of his rank as Chief Protector. The Council argued for days, not sure whether to send you to Joppa, the land of men, or to care for you until the time when you would return to your kin. Quetulya was clear on what he wished to do with you. He would not stand for a man's son to live among the elves and taint the sacred ground of Breninmaur, and so he argued vehemently that you be cast out of Verdania immediately. His own family had not been spared by the men of Joppa during the great Battle of Verdania."

  Lucius understood now why the leader of the Cyngorell held him in such low esteem. The thought of his patronizing voice suddenly angered him.

  "But despite his objections, you would not be turned aside so easily," Helmer confessed with a smile. "Unlike many of the Councilors, I viewed your arrival as a blessing to this land. I chose to defend you, Lucius, and desired for you to have a place in my house equal to a son of the Silverhart line."

  Lucius slouched in his chair and pondered Helmer's confession. "Why, Father? What deemed me worthy of such an honor?"

  "Nothing, Lucius. I saw your vulnerability as an infant and, like Kiret, I had pity on you. You see, like many of my kinsmen, I have long grieved for the children of men and the world they inhabit. So much war and malice wrought by their hands when they are capable of loftier pursuits. And I did see a lofty pursuit in keeping you among us." Helmer stood up and walked to the lattice window. He looked at the moon for a few moments in silence, contemplating how to phrase what he wanted to say next. "The Cyngorell did not easily concede to my wishes for you to have a place in Evingrad. They needed to be convinced you would not be a threat to Verdania or to the peace of D'arya. It proved difficult to sway them, considering you were not only a child of man, but also a royal heir of Aldron."

  Lucius' eyes widened and his posture straightened. "What? An heir? How can you be certain of this
?"

  Helmer placed his hand inside his garment and pulled out a flat, stone octagon the size of his palm. He handed it to him for closer inspection. The seal was lighter than Lucius expected and had a slight sheen in the candlelight. On its surface was a carving of an eagle with wings outspread, clutching a sword with its right talon and a scroll with its left. Above and below the carving there were words inscribed in an ancient language of men, but Lucius could not decipher their meaning.

  "'In the Lord Yéwa do we stand and in his son, Yesu, do we trust.' This is their meaning," Helmer said.

  Lucius raised his brow and searched the stone for any further meaning, "I don't understand—"

  "How this pertains to you?" Helmer finished the question. "The stone carving you hold is the crest of the King of Aldron, Cervantes Nostra. Kiret found it among the blankets you were clothed in."

  Lucius knew little of the legendary king, Cervantes, who had reigned in the kingdom of Aldron nearly a millennia ago. In those days, elves and men fought together against the Draknoir of the east before their alliance faded into gloom. The current ruler of Aldron, King Alfryd Dermont, was not from the line of Nostra. The third generation of Cervantes' line had been hunted down and killed off by the Draknoir and various enemies of the throne. A servant of the Nostra house named Gareth inherited the throne of Joppa and established his dynasty in the southern province of Azuleah. Knowing the Nostra line had been wiped out for years before his birth, Lucius saw the stone as nothing more than an artifact and not evidence of royal status.

  "This stone proves nothing, Father. The house of Nostra has been desolate since before I was born. I am no heir to the kingdom of Aldron or the province of Joppa," he said, setting the stone on Helmer's desk.

  Helmer laughed, which slightly annoyed Lucius. "Desolate? Who told you it was desolate? Siegfried?"

  "Well ... yes," Lucius admitted.