by Lana Axe
Chapter 39
The stars shone bright silver against the black sky as Yori stared up at the heavens. The ship would arrive at the Sunswept Isles by morning, and he was enjoying the fine weather as he sailed. The closer they came to the isles, the warmer the weather became. Winter, it seemed, held no sway over islands full of sorcerers.
He finally returned to his cabin, hoping to catch some rest. The following day was sure to be a busy one, and he didn’t want to appear tired and dull before his future teachers. As he drifted to sleep, he dreamed of a strange red land where no other life existed. Alone he traveled, searching for another living soul. A red wasteland stretched endlessly before him, and the sky reflected the red of the earth. Streaks of hot red lightning filled the sky above him, and he felt the heat on his skin as they struck the ground beside him.
He awoke with a start and shook his head. It was nearly dawn, so he went back out onto the deck to observe their approach to the isles. In the distance, he could see land. There were two separate islands that he could make out, and behind one there was a huge cloud of smoke. He wondered briefly if there was a third island which was currently on fire. Shaking the thought from his head, he continued to watch as the islands grew closer. The ship’s crew was preparing to dock, and Yori’s anticipation rose.
No one spoke to him as he departed the ship. Heading down the ramp to dry land, he hoped to spot someone who could point him in the direction of a teacher. Master Yarion did not sound like the friendly sort, but perhaps he had a servant or two who was more willing to chat.
Yori took a moment to observe his surroundings. Tall stone spires rose high into the sky everywhere he looked. There were no trees to be seen, and the earth was covered in flat stone, preventing any grass from pushing its way to the surface. Though he had grown up in a town filled with people, he was used to seeing the forest. In Enald, trees grew in various places within the town, and grass was no rarity. Here, it seemed, the Enlightened Elves had no use for nature. Gulls mobbed the shore, but no birds could be seen as he moved farther away from the sea.
He spotted a tall elf giving orders to some of the dock workers and decided to try his luck at a conversation.
“You stink of Wild Elf,” the tall elf said. “Don’t come too close.”
Yori stopped in his tracks in disbelief. His previous assumption had been right. There would be no fooling these elves into thinking he was one of them. “I’m looking for training in weapons enchantment,” he said.
The tall elf began to laugh and shook his head. “That’s very amusing. Now off with you!” He stopped laughing and waved Yori away.
“I wasn’t joking,” Yori called out. “Do you know where I can find a smith?”
The tall elf laughed again. “You’re a funny little thing.”
Yori stared back at the elf. Everything he had been told of the Enlightened Elves was true. This was the first one of their kind he had ever met, and he could already tell the elf thought Yori was beneath him. “Look, can you tell me where to find a smith or are you not smart enough?” Yori thought he’d try giving the arrogant jerk a taste of his own medicine.
The smile came off of the elf’s face as he said, “Try the city square.” He pointed over his shoulder, stuck his nose in the air, and walked away in a huff.
Insulting their intelligence seems to work, Yori thought. I’ll have to remember that. As he located the city square, he found the most immaculate marketplace he could ever have envisioned. Everywhere was white stone, and there was no hint of trash or dirt on the streets. The merchant stalls were small versions of the tall towers that filled the skyline. Bronze-skinned elves dressed in long, colorful robes strolled lazily about the market, casually inspecting goods as they passed by each stall. No one seemed to be in any kind of a hurry, and no one was yelling over the crowd to advertise their wares.
There was little noise, and Yori thought he would easily hear the sound of a hammer should he come near a smith. To his disappointment, however, he heard nothing of the kind, and no smoke could be seen coming from a furnace. He was beginning to wonder if these elves had some magical method of crafting weapons that did not require a forge.
With a sigh, he began to browse the long line of stalls for any sign of a blacksmith. The elves eyed him suspiciously and moved away from him as he passed. He was failing to blend in among such tall elves. Everyone here was at least a head taller than him, despite the fact that he was average height for a human. He supposed it was easier to look down on other races if you literally had to look down at them.
His clothing probably did not help matters. He was dirty from his travels, and it had been a while since he had a bath. Seeing what appeared to be an inn, he wondered if they had a “no Wild Elf” policy. Finding a place to stay might prove difficult. He decided he might fare better if he had a bath and some decent Enlightened Elf style clothing to wear. Luckily, he saw a shop selling robes nearby, and a pretty young elf maiden stood within. She looks friendly enough, he thought.
As he approached the stall, the girl’s mouth dropped open, and she stared at Yori without saying a word.
“Hello,” he said. “Do you accept coins from the Kingdom of Na’zora? I have silver.”
“Um, yes,” she replied, glancing to each side. “Aren’t gold and silver coins accepted everywhere?”
Yori had no idea they would accept the same currency. “I need to purchase something to wear,” he said.
“What color do you take?” she asked.
“It doesn’t matter,” he replied. “Whatever fits will do.”
Again the girl’s mouth dropped open. “It certainly does matter!” she protested. “You must have a specialty.”
“Specialty?” Yori asked, wrinkling his brow.
“Yes,” she replied. Seeing that Yori still didn’t understand, she added, “Your magical specialty. These robes enhance your abilities.”
“I see,” Yori said, trying not to sound like an oaf. “Is earth magic an option?”
The girl giggled slightly with her mouth closed, and she lowered her head. Once she had composed herself, she said, “Of course it is. Green or brown?”
Good grief, he thought. “Green, I think,” he replied. Green would match his eyes, at least.
“I might have a green one in the right length,” the girl replied as she searched through a pile of clothing.
As the girl continued to search, an older man appeared from behind the booth. “Are you looking at my daughter?” he asked, eyeing Yori suspiciously.
“No, sir,” he replied, shaking his head.
“You should be!” the elf shouted. “She’s rather beautiful. Just don’t touch her, or I’ll melt you.” The man’s eyes flashed red, suggesting the truth behind his threat.
Yori nodded quickly, not knowing what to say.
The girl offered Yori a plain green robe and smiled. “My father is only teasing,” she said. “See if this is the right size.”
Slipping the robe over his clothes, Yori could tell it was a perfect fit. “It’s perfect,” he said. “How much do I owe you?”
“Five silver,” she replied. “I thought you’d want the cheapest one.”
“Thank you,” he said as he handed her the coins. She was correct in her assumption. He did not want to spend much on clothing, but this robe had cost him five times the price of his journey by ship. There was little choice, however, if he intended to blend in among the locals.
He made his way to the inn to inquire about a room and a bath. It was nestled within one of the tall towers, and he was anxious to see what the inside looked like.
Within the tower was a polished marble floor and several tables made of white stone. A long twisting staircase led high into the tower. Behind the stone bar, an elf was busy wiping down crystal clear, long-stem glasses. “May I help you?” the elf asked.
“I need a room,” Yori replied, approaching the bar.
“Goodness, how did you get to be so short?” the man asked, look
ing him up and down.
“Spell went wrong,” Yori lied.
The elf nodded sympathetically. Apparently, not all Enlightened Elves could smell his mixed blood. “You can have a room on the third floor for three silver,” the elf said.
“Thank you,” he replied, handing the elf the coins. “Where can I find a bath?”
The man seemed puzzled by the question. “Each room has its own, of course. I trust you can heat the water yourself.” He went back to wiping the glasses.
Yori walked slowly up the stairs, preparing himself for a cold bath. As he entered the room, he could not believe its size. For only three silver, the room was nearly as large as his uncle’s entire cottage and had indoor access to water. This place was beyond belief.
Removing his clothes, he slipped into the tub and turned on the water. It was freezing cold and his entire body tightened as it splashed on his skin. An idea came to him, and he climbed back out of the tub. In his leather bag were three chisels gifted to him by his grandfather. Choosing the medium-sized chisel, he climbed back into the tub and began to etch fire runes into its stone surface. His eyes flashed green as he focused on the runes. Suddenly, the water began to heat as it reached the level of the runes. Smiling, he sat the chisel down outside the tub and sank deep into the warm water.
After twenty minutes of scrubbing, he declared himself clean enough for anyone and tossed his dirty clothing in the tub to soak. If only he could etch runes into cotton, his clothes would always be clean.
Wearing his new green robe, he exited the inn and strolled through the marketplace once again. He walked for nearly a mile before he came across a stall selling weapons. Beautiful, gem-inlaid daggers were spread neatly on a marble countertop. Inside the stall were a variety of jeweled swords, some of them with colored blades. They were marvelous to behold, but he did not dare to touch them. They might hold strange enchantments that he was not prepared to handle.
An older, white-haired elf greeted him. He was tall and thin and wore a dark red robe. “You aren’t from around here, are you?” he asked with a smile.
Yori detected no arrogance or disgust from this elf. “No,” he replied. “I’m from Na’zora.”
“I thought as much,” the elf replied. “I visited there once, a few hundred years ago.”
Yori had no idea these elves lived so long. “Did you enjoy it?” he asked, trying to make casual conversation.
“Not one bit,” the white-haired elf responded. “Are you looking to purchase a weapon?”
“Actually,” Yori said, “I’m hoping to learn about enchanting them.”
Yori expected the elf to laugh, but instead he replied, “Interesting.” Silence followed.
“Do you know where I might learn?” Yori asked.
“Let me guess,” the elf began. “You forge weapons with a large furnace and a heavy hammer.”
Yori nodded.
“That isn’t how we do things around here. Here, we use magic in all aspects of the craft. I’m afraid you lack the necessary skill.”
“What skill would that be?” Yori asked curiously.
“For starters, you don’t have the correct blood. It takes an inborn magic that your kind do not possess.” The man hesitated a moment before continuing. “That isn’t meant as an insult. I am merely stating a fact.”
“Then it’s impossible for me to learn?” Yori was beginning to wonder if the entire journey was wasted.
“I didn’t say that, exactly,” the elf replied, considering the question. “You couldn’t possibly forge the weapons using our method, and you could not enchant the gems.” He scratched his chin as he thought. “You might be able to use our gems to complete the process, though. I’d be interested to see if it works.”
Yori stood silent, confused by the man’s words.
“I’m not sure an unenchanted sword could support the gem, though,” he said, thinking out loud. “It would probably destroy it.”
“I can craft a runed sword,” Yori stated proudly.
The elf’s eyebrows shot up. “Indeed!” he exclaimed. “That might work. I’d be interested to see the results.”
“I’d be interested in working with you,” Yori replied with a smile.
“Excellent,” the elf replied. “You will find that most of my people prize learning and study, though not all will be so keen to have you as an apprentice. For now, you will be an amusing little experiment.” The old elf chuckled. “You may call me Master Eldon.”
Yori wasn’t sure he liked the sound of being an experiment, but the man seemed decent enough. He had not treated Yori as an inferior being, and he seemed genuinely curious about combining the two magics. He was glad to have found someone willing to work with him, at least for a while.
Chapter 40
Dashing into town at top speed, Mi’tal finally arrived back at the palace. Without a moment’s rest, he stabled his horse and ran into the palace to the prince’s chambers. Inside, there was only a young page, tending to the prince’s bed sheets. The boy paused and looked up as Mi’tal burst through the doors without knocking.
“Where is the prince?” he shouted to the boy.
“He’s at the barracks, sir, practicing drills with his troops,” the boy replied.
Mi’tal raced off down the corridor and back outside the palace. The barracks were nearby, but he was already beginning to tire from his sprint through the palace. Mustering all of his strength, he raced down the path to the barracks. He could hear the sound of swords clanging in the rear of the building and made his way to the source of the noise.
The prince was sparring with a soldier as Mi’tal arrived. “Your Highness,” he called. “I bring urgent news.”
Aelryk immediately lowered his sword and rushed to Mi’tal. His opponent bowed as he walked away.
Moving forward to meet the prince, Mi’tal said, “The elves have indeed taken Princess Lisalla. They say there will be no peace until the king is dead.” He made no mention of his declaration to the elves.
“Was she hurt? Did you speak to her?” The prince asked hurriedly.
“No, my lord,” he replied. “I was bound myself and was not given the chance.”
“We must rescue her,” Aelryk replied. “My father isn’t going to do anything to help. He will only attack the elves and make her situation worse. If they want my attention, they’ve got it.”
“What do you propose for a rescue?” Mi’tal asked.
“I’m not sure,” he began. “Do you think you can locate their camp again?”
“Yes, my lord, as long as there isn’t a heavy snowfall. However, I wouldn’t expect them to stay in the same place. They know I’m aware of their location.”
“Then we’ll have to act fast before they can move far.” The prince’s dark eyes narrowed as he asked, “How many soldiers do they have?”
“I couldn’t say for sure. They made mention of other clans that had joined them, so there could be many more than there were. If all of the clans have joined forces, our own numbers could be outmatched. I have no idea how many might dwell west of the river.”
A guard from the palace marched purposefully toward the prince and bowed. “Your Highness, the king has requested your presence in his council chambers.”
With a nod, Aelryk said, “I’m on my way.” He gestured for Mi’tal to follow him as he walked back to the palace. He walked slowly, not caring if he kept the king waiting. As they reached the council chambers, Aelryk said, “Wait here. It shouldn’t be long.”
Inside the council chambers, the king sat casually in his high-back chair. The councilors stared at Aelryk as he entered.
“Now that you’re here, we can begin,” the king said. “I have received a message from King Olin of Ra’jhou. He has heard that his daughter was captured by outlaws and is threatening war with Na’zora if she is harmed. He says we are responsible for her safety, and if we do not secure her release, he will declare war.”
The councilors murmured to one another b
ut did not raise their voices loud enough for the king to hear.
“What are you going to do about it, Father?” the prince asked.
“Nothing,” he replied.
The stunned councilors looked at the king in shock. Glancing at each other, they wondered which of them would speak first. Failing to find their courage, the men remained silent.
Staring at the councilors with contempt, Aelryk said, “I will tell you what these fools will not. You cannot risk open war with Ra’jhou while you are still fighting with the elves. What if the elves return Lisalla to Olin in exchange for his alliance?”
“Then I will just have to crush Ra’jhou as well as those elves,” the king said dismissively. The threat from Ra’jhou clearly meant nothing to him.
“How do you expect to win such a fight?” the prince asked.
“I have reinforcements on the way. They will tip the scale in our favor once and for all.”
Aelryk had no idea who the king might be speaking of. “Are you going to elaborate?”
“No,” he replied. “You’re dismissed.”
“Father-” the prince began.
Domren cut him off, shouting, “Dismissed!”
Knocking his chair over as he stood, the prince replied, “I will find Lisalla, and I will secure her release. If you continue your reckless fighting, it will be the death of this kingdom.” He stormed out of the room, leaving the cowardly councilors behind.
Mi’tal followed the prince away from the council chambers.
“Could you hear that?” the prince asked.
“Yes, my lord,” he replied.
“My father is a fool,” Aelryk began. “Ra’jhou has a massive army, and they have defeated us in battle in ages past. Risking war with them is irresponsible. If they ally with the elves, there may be nothing left of Na’zora or her people.”
Mi’tal nodded sympathetically. “I agree that is a risk we should not take.”
“We must find Lisalla and get her to safety before the elves can bargain her to King Olin. There is no other way.”