Night had settled, and the crew shouted and ran above as they prepared the ship to come to port.
The door opened behind him, and Nara emerged, delicately assisted by Castien. The trip did seem exceedingly hard on her, and he prayed this was not a common occurrence so she could travel more.
Some glimmer on Nara’s skin caught his eye.
Lines of gold coiled around her legs and arms. The low dip of her dress at the bust showed what appeared to be golden, wooden hand prints. Curious, but thoughtful, he would ask her later if it were her mark. This was her night, and he did not want to slow her down with questions.
A human walked halfway down the stairs, eyes wide with panic. “The king is here, My Lord.”
“Of course he is,” Castien muttered before leading Nara to the deck. Fallon followed behind, becoming more curious. Since he had had very little time to speak with Nara, he still knew very little about Castien.
Once above deck, he followed Nara and Castien down the lowered ramp leading to the docks and looked out at the city that rose against a large hillside. Night made it hard to see anything aside from the many lamps illuminating the walkways. People rushed about the docks, either loading onto ships or entering other buildings that lined the area. High above the city on an overlooking cliff was a building so massive Fallon’s mouth fell open. Towers that looked like trees but rose higher than any he had seen surrounded a large central building. Shimmering balls of light rose above it like those the Elders kept in the meeting chambers. Its arched rooftops capped its beautiful grey walls, and the windows shone with the light of Ghedril. It blended with the trees that rose high around it and the shrubbery that lined its many paths, but in a more beautiful, delicate, and deliberate manner. While he could not be sure from this distance, he swore white statues draped in vines were moving.
Two elves holding banners stood to either side of a large crowd. On the banners a deep purple gailenia spread above a sword placed before a golden sun and a silver moon on a background of white.
Sitting atop a dazzling horse lined in silver, gold and purple was who, he guessed, to be the king. The older elf’s light brown hair reached just past his shoulders and he wore cleanly pressed, shimmering garments in the same colors as the beast he sat on. A crown of dragons in gleaming gold circled his head, rising at different points with a ruby-embedded gailenia at its center. The gem shone like blood.
All came to bended knee before him, including Castien, something Fallon thought the elf would never do. Looking behind the king, two other elves rode horses. A young maiden, who looked near akin to Nara, wore a deep purple gown lined in white that fell from her shoulders. Next to her was a lithesome elf with a strong curve at his chin, a bored expression outweighing prominent features. Behind them were fourteen other Moon and Sun Elves. Fallon craned his neck to get a better look at the Moon Elves. Never before had he seen one and he marveled at how their skin matched the many shades of the night. He now knew why Nara thought the details of the world were alluring.
Guards wearing shining armor of silver and gold and helms made to have miniature antlers surrounded the king and his entourage. To either side of the guards, a different breed of elf stood unflinching. Though they wore darkened iron armor, lustrous scales of varying colors lining their bodies wherever they were not covered. While some had horns, others had draconic wings tucked in close behind them and folding perfectly over their arms. Large claws extended from what should have been feet and flexed every so often, marking the wood beneath them.
Fallon’s eyes widened as he remembered stories his father had told him. Long ago captured dragons were forced to mate with elves and humans. While it was true he had never seen a dragon and had doubted their existence, this was something he never believed could have been done.
Swallowing hard, Fallon looked at Nara who remained standing on shaky legs. His rucksack clutched against his chest, he wrapped his other arm around Nara to steady her. Eyes suddenly turned on him.
“Kneel before the king!” an elf resembling an older Castien shouted from beside the king. His straight, white-blond hair brushed his saddle as a tick formed beneath the beginnings of a beard. Fallon looked at them, not understanding why he should have to.
“Nara does not feel well,” Fallon said as Nara leaned into him.
“Kneel!”
Fallon shook his head and made to turn Nara into his arms. However, two guardsmen charged forward before grabbing him by the shoulders. He cried out when they kicked the back of his legs in. Forced to his knees, his idols spilled out of his rucksack as it dropped. Splinters dug through his thin trousers into the skin beneath, and he cried again.
“Fallon, no!” Nara, though still pale, rushed to his side. When she attempted to pull their hands off of him, they swatted her away and brought more pressure down on his shoulders. “Let him go,” she demanded, dropping her own things, bow and all. They brought his arms back, digging their leather-gloved hands in and causing Fallon to grimace. He had no powers or weapons to work against them.
The king leaned down to whisper something to the elf at his right. The fair-haired elf tilted his chin upwards and waved his hand. Shortly after, the guards released Fallon, shoving him towards the boards beneath.
Nara helped Fallon to his feet and turned to the king. “This is my friend.” The king raised his eyebrows, but his thin lips drew upwards, showing through a full beard, his long, fair ears slightly turning red while amusement played on his features.
“You’ve told her that she is a princess, Castien?” the king asked, his deep voice echoing in Fallon’s ears and continuing to echo due to shock. In too much pain to show his surprise, he bowed his head and listened.
“I have, Your Majesty,” Castien answered, his arms relaxed over his bended knee.
“Nara, you are my daughter,” the king said kindly. “This is how it will be. Even those in the temple bow their head while others go to their knees for us in respect. If they refuse to pay you what you deserve, they will be made to do so.”
Nara squeezed Fallon’s arm, fingers pinching his skin. “Not Fallon,” came her stubborn reply. Moments passed in silence. Fallon kept his head low, the pain in his shoulders turning into a dull ache. When he looked up, two other horses were brought forward wearing the same colors that draped the others.
“Castien,” the king said dismissively, his joy having faded to a thin line, “help Nara to her horse. She appears exhausted from her trip. While I have a celebration prepared for her, I think for now she should rest.”
Castien rose, turning to Fallon and Nara. His lips curled before he looked back at the king. “What about her friend, Your Majesty?” Castien inquired with his hands balled into fists at his sides. “Should I have someone find a place for him to stay in the castle or with his brother, Evert Orindyl, by the docks?”
The king now regarded Fallon much longer, his chin tilting upwards with a penetrating gaze. “You will,” the king responded with a curt nod, “bring him to his brother. There is no place within our walls for him for now.”
“Why not?” Nara demanded. Fallon worried for her, wondering how long it would take for her to regain balance after being on the ship.
“Nara,” Fallon whispered, a deep frown settling across his face, “do not worry about it.”
“I want you with me,” she whispered back, glancing at the others looking at them. Her words caused his heart to swell, and he wanted to reach out to her.
Instead he closed his eyes and shook his head. “Enjoy your moment. I would like to see my brother.” When he opened his eyes, her eyebrows knit together as though she were in pain. “I have not seen him in almost three years.”
Nara embraced him. Ignoring what anyone might have thought, he held her as though he would never see her again. With his eyes closed, he turned his face into her hair. The sweet scent of gailenias now mixed with the salt of the ocean.
She pulled away.
“See me as soon as you can,” Nara said b
efore Castien led her away and helped her onto a horse and placed her belongings over his back. Castien jerked his head to the side, giving Fallon an impatient look. Fallon picked up his bag, side stepping forward, feeling the heaviness of many eyes still settled on him.
“Get on,” Castien told him, anger grinding his words. Fallon, wanting to avoid any more gaffes, quickly did as he was told, though clumsily so. It took him two or three tries to mount, and his face burned like Vhedril’s light knowing people were still looking. Many did not hide the amusement from their faces. Wishing Castien had been kind enough to help him, he managed and put his belongings between his legs before Castien handed him the reins. “The horse knows what to do, so sit there and do nothing. I will take you to Evert after we take Nara to the castle entrance.”
Castien climbed onto Nara’s horse, sitting behind her on the great white beast. With an uncertain posture, she laid her head against his chest. As the crowd of guards and people parted for the king to move through and Fallon’s horse started alongside Castien and Nara, he doubted he would see much of her after this night.
Silently his heart cried out; soon he would lose everything.
Tall tree-like posts with mage lights set through would-be branches lit winding stone streets. Balconies lined with vines hung over the streets from some buildings. Every so often walkways joined the buildings where archers stood, dressed to mimic the wild. Just like the archers, the city attempted to blend in with the scenery while still setting itself apart from what was natural. Many people, despite how late it was, were still awake and moving aside as the king’s procession marched through. Heads bowed low to those who passed.
Fallon had seen the eyes of the others in the procession glancing at him. Some held disdain while others were lively, kind, and curious. He stayed silent hoping they would stop looking at him all together.
When they reached the top of the winding hill, they passed under a great white archway lined with several gailenias, vines, and trees. Castien passed Nara off to another with a delicate hand, and Nara’s eyes turned wide as she glanced behind them, but she did not argue. Without a word, the procession dismounted and followed her across the yard and into castle. The structures beauty was even more spectacular up close, with lines of stones, dirt paths, flowers, and hedges.
But it paled in comparison to the beauty that just separated from him.
While the others continued, Castien edged his horse around. Leaning over, he took the reins from Fallon, muttering, “I hope this is the last time you are this close.” Pushing his heels into the side his animal, he led Fallon back downhill.
“Why do you hate me so?” Fallon asked, too sore from the journey to think clearly.
Castien scoffed. “And you’ve no ire towards me, Fallon?” Fallon was unable to reply, both of them knew the answer. “You knew the dryads would attack me, did you not?” Fallon bit the inside of his cheek, not wanting to let that information get to Nara. The white haired elf let out a heavy sigh. “I can’t blame you. I would’ve done the same thing,” Castien carried on, glancing towards Fallon, some malevolent smirk crossing his lips. “You were only stupid enough to not let the dryad’s kill me. I hope you understand that. But I am giving you reprieve, a chance to prove yourself. You are, after all, favored by Nara. We will see if we can change that.”
“Why would you want to?” Fallon snapped.
Again Castien chuckled. “Because you do not belong where she does,” he replied, voice low. “You will be more of a nuisance, like your brother. Only there to work and entertain until someone is bored of you.” Castien’s eyebrows rose. “For now, she is not to be queen. She will have no say over your fate. Both of you were naïve, she in wanting to come and you in wanting to protect her. Because, Fallon…you cannot protect her.” Pain creased around Castien’s eyes before he looked away. “Even I cannot protect her now.”
Fallon wondered at this seemingly genuine care Castien had for Nara.
They made the rest of their journey in silence. Coming closer to the docks, Castien led them down a narrow path. The lanterns on the sides of the buildings illuminated the smaller space between. A tall wall stood at the end of the path where several men and elves stood about, laughing while holding women and maidens with gowns so tight their bosoms spilled out at the neckline.
Fallon’s face flushed, and he quickly looked at Castien who remained unaffected.
Castien slid from his horse, and Fallon followed suit. To the left, only one window of many had a light dancing behind it, a thick material making it appear nearly darkened inside. Only a few doors lined the pathway, and the one Castien pounded his fist on had several deep lines cut into it.
Despite the laughter and loud speech near the end of the pathway, the sound of something heavy being moved, pounding footsteps, and something crashing carried from behind the door.
Castien gave Fallon a sidelong look, mirth lacing his voice. “I wonder what he was like when you knew him.”
At last the door opened and a tall, familiar elf smiled at them. His brother was dressed only in a linen shirt and trousers, leaning heavily against the doorframe. Evert peered at the two of them with only one eye open. They were not a fair-skinned family at all, but he had taken on a more golden hue as though he had been out in the sun more than usual. The only thing that marred his complexion was a thick, jagged scar across the right side of his face, from his ear to his jaw. Other changes were more subtle. Evert’s once smooth face now had thin growth of stubble and a silver hoop pierced through the top of his left ear. Fallon prayed these were the worst of his changes.
Swaying on his feet, Evert ran his hand through his already tousled hair. Grinning, Evert spoke at last. “Castien, what brings you here? Playing messenger for the king now? Finally come to kill me?” Some distinct smell drifted towards Fallon when his older brother spoke. The scent was thick and offensive, and he couldn’t help but turn away.
Castien replied, “No. This will surprise you, but I’ve brought a gift.” Castien turned his eyes to Fallon, prompting Evert to do the same. Squinting and leaning closer, Evert looked Fallon over. It had been almost three years since they’d last seen one another. Would Evert recognize him in a drunken stupor?
“Fallon,” Evert breathed, eyebrows coming together over glassy eyes. Evert lunged forward. On unsteady feet, he grasped Fallon’s arm and pulled him into the building, slamming the door in Castien’s face.
A couple of candles lit the whole room. A table with chairs sat off in the corner, various foods and bottles surrounding it. To the other end were maps, tomes, and scrolls strewn on a low sitting area with a squat, dark wood table. Over the seating area was an open stairway. Fallon’s position made it impossible for him to see anything above except a gown hanging over the edge.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” Evert mumbled, stumbling backwards over a mess of spilled pans and bottles. Evert waved his hand at Fallon after wiping his mouth. Silent now, he managed to find the stairs but quickly fell forward onto them, crawling halfway up before losing the energy to go any further, clearly passing out.
Fallon sighed and looked at the mess around him. His head ached and his chest clenched. Instead of seeking rest, he set to cleaning his brother’s home, doing his best not to disturb Evert or look at who rested above. He tried to ignore the many thoughts taunting him. He tried to ignore the fact things had completely changed.
And not for the better.
XEVIAT
Ignoring curious glances, Xeviat flowed in line perfectly with the entourage of the king as soon as they heard Alinar’s daughter was approaching. He did not know the full circumstances of the child only that her mother had stolen away, aided by the resistance, while pregnant. He was only about four or five when the incident had happened, and most of the rumors had died down by the time he was old enough to care.
He glanced at the others who sat on the council who had thus far said nothing of his disappearance. And they probably wouldn’t in the king’s
presence. They had to think Xeviat’s reemergence was odd. After all, he had not been in Ghela for so long, and he knew he had missed several important meetings. He only wondered if any felt the dark energy about him.
As Nara exited the ship, he scratched a long nail against the parchment in his pocket, a blank stare directed at the long lost princess. Having done so over and over on the near three week course of his journey, he had nearly worn a hole under the name of who he was to meet here in Ionus. He knew Castien Dreigsier well. Being about the same age and both from older noble families, they had grown up around one another. The other elf, though their parents constantly forced them together, was not to Xeviat’s liking. Castien was often brash to those who served no purpose. He also had a constant hunger for flesh and knew how to get what he wanted. He was a cruel character that severely punished those who undermined him or got in his way. All of this Castien hid well with a charming exterior. Everything within him was a dangerous mixture.
Was it any wonder why Thaos wanted him?
Thaos had faith in this elf he had never met. Faith that Castien would make a pact and faith that he would be able to find certain articles that Thaos desired.
First he desired Gaia’s map. The mother goddess created Arlania by drawing a map across her skin before ripping the flesh. Until Thaos came along, Xeviat thought it to be myth.
For retrieving that, Thaos would give Castien power.
After they found their way back to the castle, the council separated from the others in the procession. The mirrors on the walls they passed made the white stone floors of the halls look wider than they actually were. They also reflected Xeviat too perfectly. In his stride he occasionally caught a glimpse of his face. He had the sudden realization that he had not seen himself in months. He forced himself to look as he passed each mirror. His face appeared gaunt and there were dark circles under his eyes; his once vibrant gray-blue skin had faded. A thin, milky film now covered leaf green eyes, causing him to furrow his brow in dismay. Had he not the same long features as before, he would have sworn Thaos had switched his body for another.
Dryad's Touch Page 18