by Rosie Scott
Cyrus came to stand by my side. Saffron looked over his prestigious armor before she returned her gaze to me.
“Celendar requests the Seran Renegades come alone into the forest,” I continued, “because they wish to take credit for squashing my rebellion while keeping themselves out of harm's way. Saffron Willis, meet Cyrus Anil, the king of Fremont. You knew it as Hammerton just the last time we saw each other, if you'll recall.” I glanced over at my friend and ally. “Tell me, Cyrus: will killing the Seran Renegades quell the rebellion?”
“Absolutely not,” Cyrus replied, his blue eyes staring with authority at the Celds. “Fifty thousand of the troops you see behind me abide by my orders, not Kai's. Her soldiers may be leaderless with her death, but I would happily take them under my wing. If Celendar harms a hair on Kai's head, I will not take it lightly. And my people are Vhiri; not only do we have a reputation for immediate reprisal, but we are known for being predisposed to fire.” He looked pointedly at the giant trees ahead.
Saffron frowned, her eyes gaining an edge of panic. “You would threaten our forest?”
“Absolutely,” Cyrus replied. “You've threatened my ally. Celendar does not have the upper hand here. The army you see behind us is not the entirety of our support. If Celendar shows resistance to Kai's advance, you are inviting war with all of Fremont, and we are just a hop and a skip away from you across that border.”
Grass swished behind me just before Calder came to stand on my other side, bringing with him the smell of sweet roasted herbs. “You'd invite war with the underground as well,” he told Saffron, motioning back to the Alderi. “And these numbers are just a drop in the bucket for us.”
Saffron eyed Calder's casual attire before she asked, “And you are?”
“Calder Cerberius. King of the underground.”
Saffron was silent a moment as she moved her gaze to my own. I finally said, “I am also allied with Nahara. Two out of these three allies of mine are leaders as the result of forcible takeovers, Saffron. Celendar is effectively surrounded. I have the power and resources to wipe it off the map. Instead, I am offering you compromise. Considering the circumstances, I'm sure you'll agree that Celendar will negotiate with me. On my terms.”
The Celdic soldiers murmured amongst themselves as they waited for their leader to reply. Saffron struggled with inner turmoil for a few moments before her answer finally floated through the air on the back of a shaky exhale. “Very well.”
Eight
28th of High Star, 430
Being in the Cel Forest was like stepping into a new world. Pearl-white trees surrounded us with trunks that shared the width and height of the tall buildings of Al Nazir, yet it felt like we were in the underground. The canopy of branches and giant leaves acted as the forest's ceiling, keeping the majority of the forest floor in perpetual shadow. The sun and sky were lost to us, though occasionally we would notice a stray ray of sunshine determined to forge a path to the lowest plants.
The lack of sunlight didn't concern the botanical life in the slightest. The farther we traveled into the depths of the Cel Forest, the thicker the brush became. Thick vines embraced many of the trees like long-lost lovers and crisscrossed over our heads. Leafy bushes covered much of the floor like bunches of fluffy green cotton. Richly hued mosses grew over plants and the ground as the forest's lush carpet. Dozens of varieties of fruits and berries brightened the greenery in splashes of yellow, fuchsia, red, orange, purple, and turquoise. I recognized some of them, for Sera had often gotten shipments of dried fruits from the Cel Forest. Eating them fresh was a new experience, however; despite the best efforts of farmers in Sera, most of the plants native to Celendar refused to grow anywhere else.
The Cel Forest was most fascinating at night. The illumination of the moons and stars could not break through the canopies any easier than the sunlight, but the nights were aglow with bioluminescence. Mushrooms that we barely noticed during the daytime lit up the woodland at later hours in shades of green, light blue, and lavender. Many of these mushrooms grew in bunches straight out of the soil, but even more grew like mini shelves in the trunks of trees. A continual song floated through the nights by thousands of insects which produced their own light. Many of them flashed yellow and green from the backs of their abdomens in their race to find mates. There were round beetles the size of chickens that fluttered through the air so fast their wings went invisible with the rapid movement, and their undersides glowed in the most unique shade of light pink.
The wildlife of the forest was not only rampant, it was friendly. Animals of all types approached our army with little fear. Deer, reptiles, and birds wandered over to us seeking attention and food as if they were all loyal pets. Saffron pleaded with us to not hunt during our time in the forest, and we agreed as a show of goodwill. Many Celds were vegetarian, not only out of respect for their fellow beings but also because they viewed the body as sacred. It was for this reason that Celdic elves rarely, if ever, died from natural diseases the build-up of excess fats often caused in circulatory systems or the premature decay of meat as it traveled through the longer digestive tracts of humanoids. The Celds who ate meat did so rarely, and only if they used every bit of the creature for tools and supplies and offered ritualistic prayers. Surviving only on plant foods was quite easy here, for the forest offered hundreds of varieties of fruits, vegetables, legumes, nuts, and fungi in abundance.
Bluish-white illusion magic light marked the path leading to Celendar through the forest, the spells stuck to the white bark of trees a few stories above our heads. There was no telling how long it had been since someone cast the lights. Illusion and alteration lights would last until they were dispelled or ran out of energy, and the Cel Forest was abundant with environmental energy that exuded off its healthy population of wildlife. The Celds were not fans of alteration and illusion magic because they were often used for illicit activities. The Seran University taught the lesser magics, but many of the combat-oriented spells I'd learned over the years were kept out of their teachable repertoire. Using the lesser magics in combat was looked down upon, so the students of alteration and illusion often became entertainers or service-workers. Even though the Celds used magic light in their forest, I could expect we wouldn't come across the lesser magics in battle if it came to a fight.
All of us were awed by the Cel Forest's unique beauty and mystery, but it moved many of the giants under Marcus's leadership to tears. It was the first woodland to fully engulf them, and the route between trees was wide enough to allow them passage with little resistance. Some giants had traveled far enough south in Eteri to see the Silvi Rainforest from over the border wall on the edge of the wildlands, but they'd never been in it, and even the rainforest was dwarfed by the woodland here. For the first time, the giants were experiencing something new that all the smaller races took for granted.
Saffron's army served as our guide to Celendar. I respected the Celdic general a great deal despite not knowing her well, for she could make intelligent decisions about situations that were highly emotional for many Celds. By admitting defeat to my army in our last battle, she'd saved both sides a great number of casualties; on the contrary, Firth Galan had allowed emotion to rule his head, which had led to the deaths of his family. Anger and thoughts of vengeance to the point of logical blindness had consumed Firth.
Even though I was a necromancer, Saffron was cordial to me. For the first week of following her, she was leery, watching my men closely as if she thought they might attack without provocation or injure the forest and its wildlife. Saffron finally realized her worries were unfounded, but she continued to be withdrawn. It was apparent that Celendar had plans to resist my calls for negotiation, but to what extent was unknown to me. Saffron compromised with me before if she thought it was beneficial, but something troubled her as we neared the great forest city. I figured her turmoil stemmed from a vast chasm between doing what she felt was right when it came to my advance and following the misguided orders of Cel
dic royalty. Saffron had been so easy to convince of my power since she'd seen it firsthand; because Celendar had attempted to coerce me into their grasp with faux offers of compromise, it was obvious they either didn't know the extent of my armies or hadn't believed Saffron's report from our previous battle.
The closer we got to Celendar, the less I expected peaceful negotiations. Saffron wasn't good at hiding the fact she was leading us toward the city feeling like it was a death march, and Azazel informed me multiple times that we were being watched. Celendar was well aware they were first on my list of settlements to visit, and they'd sent scouts out into their forest who noted our armies before hurrying back toward the city. Saffron noticed this as well with just an edge of nervousness, but she said nothing about it to me. The Celds were phenomenal and stealthy hunters, so it was possible she thought we didn't notice. But Azazel's senses picked up on multiple followers, and most alarming was the fact that he told me many were camouflaged using the same illusion spell I'd once taken from Kacela. Silas told me that Celdic beast hunters sometimes used such illusion magic, but it was against the law to use it in battle against people. Perhaps Celendar updated such rules when it came to fighting necromancers.
On the 28th of High Star, 430, we finally arrived on the outskirts of Celendar. We were in the middle of the Cel Forest now, so the trunks of the pearl-white trees were colossal in scope, each one taking up the space of a normal city block. The size was fitting, for Celendar had no buildings. The trees served the Celds much like stone towers served the Alderi of the underground: as towering, imposing pieces of natural landscape from which to carve unique architecture.
Celendar was alight with both illusion magic and bioluminescence, giving the entirety of it an otherworldly bluish glow. The city was the most vertical I'd ever witnessed, for most of the trees here reached the sky, and the Celds had utilized nearly every inch for stories upon stories of overlapping homes and businesses. Bridges made of wood and rope and some harvested animal supplies connected many of the trees, while other walkways twirled around massive trunks, leading to doors on each level.
The tallest trees had wooden elevators that allowed civilians to travel up or down over one hundred stories in just a portion of an hour. These lifts seemed to be powered by water flow, for sealed wooden pipes collected condensation and precipitation from the canopies and delivered it into man-made reservoirs on the forest floor that contained a variety of metal pumps and giant turbines. For being such magnificent contraptions, the elevators were quiet, and only the muted natural rushing of water echoed out from the reservoirs where wet mist surrounded the turbines. The elevators intrigued me, for it seemed they were a combined effort of the natural resources of the Celds and dwarven engineering. It was probable that Celendar commissioned such work to Hammerton in decades or centuries past, or perhaps the Celds here had simply built the mechanical contraptions themselves after learning how from traveling dwarves.
The city of Celendar belonged to the Celds and the forest equally, for even though the elves had tamed much of it to their wills, they allowed the plants to intermingle with their architecture. Smooth, glimmering green vines twisted around walkway railings and bordered open and glass windows that revealed bursts of interior light amid white wood. Flowers and fungi bloomed in the oddest of places: the cracks of tree bark, along the moisture of carved downspouts, and even over some bridges and walkways like the wood that supported them was still living and thus full of nutrients and moisture. Perhaps that was the case, or maybe the Celds tended to the wayward flora to help it grow.
Even though we stood just on the edge of a great city, the trees were still populous with wildlife. Owls of many breeds perched in the shadows of crisscrossed vines and branches, abnormally bright and giant eyes watching us like the city's guardians as our army came to a stop just between two of Celendar's massive trees. A long, beautifully patterned black and cerulean snake twirled slowly around the post of a covered bridge about ten floors up and to our left. A tiny squirrel perched on the windowsill of the tree just to our right, gnawing into the shell of a nut and leaving the crumbs to fall over the heads of a few soldiers below. Calder was hit and swiped a hand over his bald head before looking up to find the culprit and chuckling under his breath.
The squirrel's chewing echoed through the forest, showcasing just how silent everything really was. One hundred and fifty thousand soldiers swarmed the forest just behind me, and thousands of Celdic elves crowded the city before us. Celds were everywhere: lining pathways with bows at the ready, standing guard at the lowest doorways, and filling the forest floor ahead with armies clad in silver and green. The scouts Azazel had seen throughout the past few weeks had done well in reporting to the city that my armies were nearing. The Celds were prepared for battle though their small numbers baffled me. There were thousands here, but Celendar was massive and should have had many more prepared to fight.
Saffron and her soldiers filed into the forest clearing ahead while we stayed put. The general headed straight for a middle-aged Celdic woman standing at the front of the defensive armies of Celendar with a royal emblem adorning the armor over her heart.
“Aysel Rainger,” Silas murmured beside me, just as Saffron and the royal woman came face to face with one another.
Aysel must have been over five hundred years old, for creases marred her fair skin around the edges of two pale gray eyes. She had long, white-blonde hair kept back from her face within the embrace of two side braids that met at the back of her head. A scabbard on her back held a pearl-white bow, a sword was sheathed at her hip, and silver rings adorned six of her fingers. Aysel watched Saffron with a stare that was both frustrated and expectant.
Saffron bowed before the royal woman. Aysel stared directly at me even though she spoke to the general before her. “I dispatched you from Celendar with very specific orders.” Aysel's voice was clear, deep with age, and intimidating with its courage.
“Yes. And I followed them,” Saffron replied. “Kai Sera would not agree to split up her army. She asked me to lead her here to compromise.”
A masculine sarcastic chuckling echoed through the clearing, drawing our attention to a Celd who leaned onto the railing of a bridge just four stories above the armies ahead. He balanced a pipe between two long, pale fingers, smoke rising past the sharply angled face of a youthful man who was so brutally handsome I heard some Alderi whisper words of attraction in the armies behind me.
“Thorn Elwood,” Silas murmured.
Thorn had a pair of the deepest blue eyes I'd ever seen that portrayed energetic defiance from beneath dangling dark brown bangs. Dotting the high cheekbone under one eye was a beauty mark as dark as his hair. Thorn wore ten silver rings indicative of magic use, and a chain necklace to match swayed just before an elongated neck with an Adam's apple so pronounced it left a shadow over his perfect skin. A strip of dark facial hair led from the center of a full bottom lip to the point of his chin. Perfect white teeth flashed in a grin just before he stood straight up, his eyes finding my own.
“Compromise!” Thorn exclaimed, sweeping both arms outward as if to encompass my entire army between them. He burst into dramatic laughter until he bent at the waist and coughed. When he stood straight again, he called, “Is that what this is? Forgive me! Perhaps my vocabulary isn't what it used to be. Times are a'changing after all!”
“Be careful, Thorn,” I began, “or else I may rightfully mistake your mockery for idiocy.”
Thorn's handsome face brightened with an amused half-grin. “The necromancer speaks! How do you know my name, fiend?”
“Because I have come here prepared with the guidance and advice of a Celd I spared in the Southern Plains,” I replied, motioning to Silas.
Thorn leaned over the railing once more and squinted. “Well, if it isn't Silas fucking Galan! Excuse my ignorance. Here, I thought they decimated the entire Galan family in that battle, but one yet remains.” Thorn huffed dryly. “What a pity it had to be you.”
“Lucky for me that I have never wasted a damn second of my life worrying about the thoughts or opinions of a necromancer,” Thorn hissed.
“Quiet!” It was both a yell and a command that bellowed out from the covered bridge across the clearing and to the left. A muscular, tall Celd walked slowly to the middle of the overpass. The roof of the bridge kept most of the man in shadow, but the glow of the nearby fungi highlighted his armor, showing the silver and blue colors of a knight. With each step of a thick metal boot, granules of dust floated down from the underside of the wooden boards beneath him as if disturbed and intimidated.
“Sedge Elwood,” Silas informed me quietly. “Vipin's eldest son.”
I noted that in particular. Vipin Elwood was Celendar's regent. If it came to a fight today—which was seeming more and more likely—Vipin would be my primary concern. Celendar knew this. Vipin knew this. The regent would either be fighting or hiding today, and if it was the latter, I would need to convince someone close to him to tell me his location.
Sedge stood close to the railing of the center of the bridge, intelligent hazel eyes looking over the Celdic Army before they compared numbers with my own. Otherwise smooth skin was marred with a thick, protruding scar that led from his right ear past the bridge of his nose, where it dissipated into permanent forehead creases which gave away his older age. Sedge had the same dark hair as Thorn, but he cut it shorter. It was impossible to tell the relation between the royal family members here, for Celds visibly aged slowly, and their aversion to war meant they were more likely to die by old age than most. With three royal families, I could only imagine how many members were still living in Celendar. Many of the Celds throughout the crowds ahead had royal emblems on their armor; I was sure many more were waiting out the confrontation in their homes.