Red Rope of Fate

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by Shea, K. M.




  Red Rope of Fate

  By: K. M. Shea

  a Take Out The Trash! Publication

  Also by K.M. Shea

  Robyn Hood

  A Girl’s Tale

  Fight for Freedom

  Princess Ahira

  My Life at the MBRC

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: Nodusigm

  Chapter 2: Captain Arion

  Chapter 3: Miscommunication

  Chapter 4: Heroics

  Chapter 5: New Vocabulary & Storming Teas

  Chapter 6: Reluctantly in Love

  Chapter 7: Attacked on all Sides

  Chapter 8: Not a Lush

  Chapter 9: Evening Star

  Chapter 10: Separation

  Chapter 11: Never Attack the Elf

  Chapter 12: Red Rope of Fate

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Nodusigm

  The bells hanging from Tari’s gold anklet jingled nonstop as she paced back and forth, unable to keep a smile from twitching across her face. Today was the day.

  Today Tari was going to be partnered with a human in the honorable custom of Nodusigm. Today she would—hopefully—forge a friendship with a human woman that would last for life.

  “Who thinks Tari is excited and nervous? Anyone?” Kiva—Tari’s older sister—teased as she adjusted the bronze circlet nestled in her hair.

  One of their female cousins sighed as she curled up on a bench. “We’ve been waiting forever for the ceremony to start, and they’re barely halfway through seating the guests.”

  Tari briefly paused to inspect her hair, which was coiled in an elaborate braid, in a mirror. “Any ideas to pass the time?” she asked, renewing her march.

  Talon—their only male cousin who was to be matched today—shook his head as he leaned against the door that would lead into the Celebration Hall, the location of the Nodusigm ceremony. “No, I’m not much in the mood for horseplay,” he said.

  Tari stopped her pacing circle next to Talon and leaned briefly against him. “You don’t seem pleased with this, Talon.”

  Talon shrugged.

  “Why not?” another female cousin asked. “To be selected for Nodusigm is a great responsibility. Only a small percentage of our people are given this honor.”

  Talon leaned back on his heels, staring at the vaulted ceiling of the waiting room. “It is not the elves that worry me. This bonding reeks of human politics.”

  “It is last minute and rushed, which is something of a surprise considering the great length of time the young Prince Vincent courted Lady—excuse me—Princess Claire,” Kiva acknowledged.

  “The human royals were not happy with Prince Vincent’s choice of a new bride. They’ve been so obvious about it even the general population of elves knows of it. But what do we care? Our countries are allies and close companions, but our governments are separate,” a female cousin said.

  Tari pushed away from Talon and walked until she stood in front of the floor to ceiling mirror. “It should matter to us because we’ve been selected. Is that what you’re getting at, Talon?”

  “Exactly,” Talon said. “We are to be bound to Princess Claire and her four siblings. They were not bound to elves as children, which reveals their low standing in the courts of human nobility. That’s why the human royals were so upset with the marriage—Princess Claire hasn’t much power to her name. Of course any human connected to the throne of Calnor—whether it be by blood or marriage—must be bound to an elf. I suspect they’re snubbing the new princess and her siblings by binding them to us.”

  “Talon!” a female cousin said, swishing the heavy skirts of her dress in protest. “How can you say that? We are relatives of Our King Celrin, ruler of Lessa! It is not shameful to be bound to us.”

  “We’re distant relatives of our King, cousin. If we were so exalted we would have been bound as children. Tari is an Evening Star and shouldn’t even be bound but they’re doing it anyway because our next closest relatives who are not already bound are King Celrin’s direct niece and nephew,” Talon said.

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” Kiva said, hugging herself. “Everyone knows Tari always dreamed of being bound. Maybe she was selected because the elves on the selection committee are fond of her. Perhaps they chose her because she is an Evening Star. Whoever is bonded to her will be adored by us elves because of their connection.”

  “It’s possible,” one of the female cousins said. “Kiva, isn’t your husband in the committee? And is his brother not a member of the Translators’ Circle?”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that the royalty of Calnor have been less than welcoming to the new princess, and I suspect they are using us for an ignoble purpose,” Talon said.

  “Be that as it may, I’m not going to let it spoil the bonding. Let them try to snub Her Royal Highness Princess Claire’s family. In turn we will rise to the occasion and dazzle and awe the humans even more than our already bonded kinsmen have,” Tari declared, lifting her chin.

  One of Tari’s cousins chuckled. “That is quite the tall order. But you are an Evening Star, perhaps you can. Do you hope to be matched to Princess Claire?”

  Tari grinned. “I hope to be bound to the human I am the most compatible with.”

  “I agree with Tari. As elves we know better than to be petty. It is our responsibility to act so,” Kiva said, stepping back into the conversation. “And whomever I am matched to I shall do my best to befriend, communicate with, and honor.”

  Talon straightened, this was no longer a mere question of human politics. “Of course. The reason for the binding doesn’t matter. I will support my partner as well, and be of as much use to him as I can.”

  “Of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “Of course,” Tari echoed. Her cousins fell silent as they waited to be summoned into the Celebration Hall.

  In the quiet Tari brushed the soft material of her plain, white dress. The seamstresses who made the clothes for the ceremony had to rush to finish as Tari had found out a mere two weeks ago that she was to be bonded.

  Tari reached up to tuck a strand of her creamy, butter blonde hair back into her thick braid. As a child—the most auspicious time for a Nodusigm ceremony—Tari had hoped and wished to be bonded to a human. That was before she understood the depths of her role as an Evening Star. Now, at twenty five summers, Tari was getting her heart’s desire. She was so happy, but at the same time her heart buzzed in her mouth like a ruby throated humming bird.

  Tari extended her warmest smile to her reflection and made the sign language gesture for “So pleased to meet you.”

  “You’ve been practicing,” Kiva said, strolling up to her.

  “I have. A few translators taught me some new gestures,” Tari said, pausing before folding her elegant elven fingers into the sign for “Help meet.”

  Kiva’s smile deepened into dimples. “You would seek to learn more. I suspect you will be great friends with the human you are bonded to. How did you part with your teacher?”

  Tari froze in the middle of making the gesture for “great honor.” “Seer Ringali was a little upset, but he knew I could not refuse the selection. It is surprising the selection committee chose me, given what Evening Stars mean to our country, but Seer Ringali felt perhaps they were planning to match me to one of Princess Claire’s sisters who won’t much come to Haven.”

  Haven was the sprawling city that straddled the borders of Lessa—the country of the elves—and Calnor—their human allies.

  “If she were not at Haven your attendance would not be required, freeing you to return home to Gloria and continue with your career,” Kiva nodded. “It sounds plausible. However, I must admit—I had hopes your binding woul
d mean you would stay with my husband and me here in Haven.”

  Tari flicked her eyes to look grimly at her sister, and Kiva sighed. “Yes, it is unlikely, your profession being what it is,” she said before scrunching up her nose. “But I can always dream.”

  Tari smiled, and the gesture softened her sharp features. “Indeed. I always dreamed of Nodusigm, and look at us now,” she laughed, reaching out to hug Kiva.

  As the two sisters embraced someone knocked on the door that opened into the Celebration Hall.

  “Are you ready?” Kiva asked, reaching out to straighten the neckline of Tari’s dress.

  “Not hardly, but I am willing,” Tari said before they fell in line with their cousins.

  The elves filed out of the room, separating when they approached the immense maroon curtain that divided the platform in the front of the Celebration Hall.

  The curtain blocked any sight of Tari’s future human partner—or her cousins’—but allowed a clear view of the guests.

  Tari took up her position at the base of the curtain. She was standing closest to the guests, and nervously looked to the human and elf translator standing a few paces from her.

  The audience murmured, glancing back and forth at the two sides of the curtain. Something seemed to unsettle them, for they talked among themselves until the elf translator started the ceremony by banging his staff on the floor.

  Tari couldn’t understand the elf translator—he was speaking in the language of Calnor, Calnoric, but she knew he was reciting a short history of the Nodusigm ceremony.

  Simply put, Nodusigm—the bonding of an elf to a human in a symbol of friendship—was done to honor the humans and to favor the elves.

  Centuries ago the High Elves left the Continent to search for lands undiscovered and untouched. Their more fragile cousins, the Lesser Elves, knew they would be unable to survive such a journey as they lacked the major magic and ferocity their cousins possessed. The High Elves promised to return for the Lesser Elves after establishing themselves in their new lands, but the Lesser Elves knew they would be wiped out long before their cousins’ return. The High Elves had done little to befriend the humans of the Continent and mostly fought with them, leaving humans wary of their kind. Unable to fight and wage wars like the High Elves, the Lesser Elves would no doubt be overtaken in a few decades.

  The Lesser Elves fled to their last refuge—the country of Lessa—where they encountered the good will of the humans of Calnor. The royalty of Calnor offered to protect the Lesser Elves, not for any hidden agenda or gain, but because they admired the Lesser Elves—who were now the only elves of the Continent.

  The Lesser Elves agreed, and friendship was forged between the two countries. The Higher Elves never came back and faded from human memory.

  In honor of the sacrifice the humans made on their behalf the elves traded exclusively with Calnor, and the two countries did everything possible to deepen their relationship. The major and perhaps only hurdle the two countries had to overcome was their inability to communicate.

  Tari looked to the human translator—who spoke in the language of elves to the elven members of the audience, repeating the words the elf spoke to the humans.

  Members of the Translators’ Circle were the only real means of communication between the two races.

  The language of the elves was complex, lilting, and used pitches and sounds most humans could not mimic. Conversely Calnoric was guttural and heavy—standing in direct opposition to the elves’ lighthearted nature. The Lesser Elves did not have the ability to learn multiple languages as the High Elves did, making the studies of languages arduous and difficult, and most humans were physically incapable of speaking elvish, making communication exchange difficult, if not nearly impossible.

  However, citizens of both countries were able to cross the language barrier. Any human who wanted to learn elvish joined the Translators’ Circle. The guild would feed and house them for the twenty to thirty years it typically took humans to learn passable elvish. The elves that set out to learn Calnoric were also forced to devote themselves to their studies for at least ten years. However, the human language took a physical toll on them, usually forcing the elves to retire from their translator positions at a young age.

  Nodusigm was designed by human wizards and elvish enchanters to bypass the need for translators. It was supposed to serve as a bridge between two souls, allowing them to communicate heart to heart rather than through words.

  Sadly, this desired connection had never been reached, but every few generations there was a bound pair that was able to communicate to some degree.

  Tari’s gaze trailed to the royal box: the separated, central location at which members of either crown family sat for any occasion in the Celebration Hall.

  The kings were not in attendance today—even though the ceremony was for the human King’s daughter-in-law. The Calnor Crown Prince Benjimir and the Lessa Crown Princess Yvrea, however, were there. They were a bond pair, the two future rulers of their respective countries. They had been bound at the traditional age of ten. Rarely were people bound as adults.

  Tari blinked when the elf translator banged his staff on the ground again and strode off, the human translator behind him. The human wizards and elf enchanters swept onto the scene. The elves started on Tari’s side of the curtain, one enchanter to one participant. The enchanter who approached Tari was tall and severe looking with a fierce expression.

  Slightly daunted by his intensity, Tari shifted in place as the enchanter placed a hand on her head. Although his hand was warm he morphed his mouth into a frown as he spoke in the weighty tones of magic.

  The magic twined around Tari like a pleased cat, rubbing against her calves and pulling on her hair. She couldn’t see it, but she could feel its satisfied purrs.

  The enchanter removed his hand, fixing Tari with a grim look as the magic continued to twirl around her.

  Finally, the enchanter nodded and swept off, joining the rest of the enchanters as they paraded to the other side of the curtain. The human wizards swirled to Tari’s side of the curtain, moving from elf to elf like a swarm of bees.

  Tari was the last elf they encircled, buzzing around her before flicking their magic at her with large gestures. They murmured to each other as their half of the binding ceremony stuck to Tari like dog fur. When they exchanged nods they shuffled off—still moving in a swarm.

  A wizard—a short, squat man with impressive eyebrows—tarried in front of Tari, rubbing his fingers and studying her. Tari lowered her eyes to look at him, and the wizard smiled and merrily waved before scuttling after his comrades.

  Tari straightened her shoulders and uneasily glanced to her relatives. All four of them were facing the curtain, waiting for it to be dropped.

  The elf enchanters and human wizards stood at the front of the platform, finishing the ceremony’s binding ties.

  Tari listened to the undecipherable words of magic as she stared at the curtain. The elf enchanters hushed to a quiet but continuous drone, and the human wizards increased their volume until they were shouting. A final chant, one last shouted word, and it was over. There was a thunderclap, and the air in Tari’s lungs was yanked out of her.

  Tari almost pitched head first into the curtain from the strength of the binding. Her bell bracelet jingled as she took in gasps of air. She could feel it. At the very back of her mind she could feel the sense of someone else. The sensation was small, like a sputtering candle in the dark, but it was there.

  Tari forcefully pushed herself upright, squaring her shoulders and ignoring her swimming senses that made her lightheaded and dizzy. The maroon curtain fell with the whisper of velvet, and Tari stared at her partner.

  Tari’s mouth opened slightly, but she was unable to find words to express herself. Her partner was the last thing she expected.

  “You’re a girl,” He said.

  Tari shook her head slightly in disbelief. “And I can understand you,” she said.

&n
bsp; Chapter 2

  Captain Arion

  “You don’t speak Calnoric,” Tari’s partner said. He narrowed his storm gray eyes at her the way a soldier studies the enemies’ battle plan.

  “No, and you’re not speaking elvish,” Tari said, tilting her head as she listened to his words. She could tell he was speaking human—she could hear the guttural consonants, but she could understand him all the same. “I am speaking elvish,” Tari added, more to assure herself as she spoke the lilting words.

  “How is this possible?” Tari’s partner asked, furrowing his black eyebrows. He was somewhat intimidating and incredibly massive compared to the company Tari usually kept. He was perhaps a little taller than Tari—a rarity as humans were usually smaller than even the shortest of elves, like Tari—and he was rather broad.

  He stood like a soldier—all angles and straight lines—and although he was alarmingly big Tari could see he had not an inch of anything but muscle on his person. He made her feel small and unbearably fragile.

  “It would seem that the ceremony worked,” Tari said, curling her hands into fists to keep herself from backing away or bristling, she was not one to enjoy feeling small. She tore her gaze from the grouchy man and glanced to her cousins.

  They were all smiling and greeting their new partners with sign language as translators approached them, readying them for the official introductions.

  A human translator approached Tari and her partner, slowing the closer he drew to them. He stopped all together and hunched his shoulders to his neck when Tari’s partner shot him a withering look.

  Tari’s partner sighed and shielded his eyes for a moment with a gauntlet covered hand. “Fantastic,” he said. He muttered more under his breath, but Tari could not quite grasp it before the massive man stood upright. “I am Captain Arion Herycian, eldest son of Fredrick and Angelica Herycian, Captain of the second squad of the northern army,” he said before performing a stiff but faultless bow.

 

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