by Ben Alderson
Kell walked at the back of the group. I looked back to see her, but her eyes were glued to her feet. Illera and Emaline walked behind us, hand in hand and faces a painting of pure intensity. Emaline caught my glare and raised a brow carefully. Then, with a swift brush of her free hand, she flashed the handle hidden beneath the hem of her shirt.
She would be ready at any moment, that is what it meant. Besides the water skins I’d not thought she’d brought any weapon so when ours were all taken away they had missed that one.
My eyes couldn’t stop skittering across the details of this place. A taste of nostalgia licked at my mind, reminding me of the first time I had walked through Vulmar Palace back in Olderim all those months ago. How my mind couldn’t stop chasing the many beauties of the place. Here was no different.
Nyah and her guards turned at the end of the corridor for another pathway, and we followed. We walked around the stone courtyard that framed a large waterless fountain in its middle, made from a white stone, which looked dry and unused. Sand dusted the ornate surface, proving that it had been a long while since it was last used.
Once we came to the end of the first turning of pathway I almost walked into the back of one of the Morthi guards. I looked ahead to see Nyah knocking on yet another set of doors. These were made from metal.
Her knuckles rapped loudly, each place she hit making another hypnotic sound. She stood back, waited, then doors opened from within. When she turned to beckon us to follow her eyes finally rested upon mine, and she winked. It was so quick. One emerald eye flashed closed and open as if it never happened. But I saw it.
Play along, it said. Be smart.
Our group ambled into the room. Guided to stand in a curved line facing the chair which sat center stage, the Morthi guards deposited us and stood lining the walls.
In it sat a man. His skin was dark bronze, weathered and aged. His short hair was pure white, not a spec of any other tones within it. Even his thick brows were tinted cloud grays to match. But his eyes. His eyes were large, wise and bright. Like Hadrian’s they burned with fire, yellows and oranges mixed together in a dance of swirling hues. It gave him a sense of youth when all his other features suggested otherwise.
The chair he sat in was no throne, nor did this man where a crown or signifier of any royalty. It was times like this that I knew knowledge gave those with it the power to control a conversation. But I knew nothing of this man or those around him who looked to him with respect.
“I admit, I never believed I would see your kind again,” the man spoke. His voice was how I imagined it to be. Deep and tense. “Yet those with great minds do say that in desperate times comes the need of desperate measures. I thank your companion here for calling you to us.”
He gestured to Nyah who stood at the side of his chair looking out at us with wonderous intent. Her arms were folded behind her back, shoulders broad and chin held high. What was she playing at?
Hadrian moved beside me, taking steps forward to control our side of the conversation. Princely and confident his spine was straight and eyes unblinking. “Forgive us for our entrance, but we were led to believe our companion was in danger.”
“This must be Hadrian of Vulmar. Prince of Flames, or is he known as the King of Blaze?” The man ignored Hadrian’s comment and turned to Nyah with the side of his plump mouth raised in humor. “I say I have heard much about you.”
We all looked to Nyah to witness this bond she had created with the leader of these Morthi elves. She raised a hand and covered her mouth as if to stifle a laugh. Was she using her abilities over emotion to get on his right side? Knowing when to act and how by studying him? Or perhaps she was just being Nyah. Princess to the people, able to put even the greatest threats to ease.
“And yet we stand here knowing little about you.” Hadrian bowed his head but didn’t drop his eyes from the elven man.
“Oh, you will know all. But you can see that Nyah is not in any danger, not here. I will let her explain in a short moment why we had to call you here, for I am afraid our first encounter was not as positive as it should have been.”
Hadrian pinched his gaze and narrowed in on Nyah. “If it is a conversation you are after I must ask your name. It is only polite after all.”
“Mother told you not to talk to strangers?” he replied.
My heart almost stopped. I snapped my attention to Hadrian, but the only sign he had heard what the elven man said was the clenching of his fists. Even Nyah cringed were she stood.
“Have I missed something?” the leader questioned, looking between Hadrian and his new friend, Nyah.
“Name?” Hadrian just asked again.
“My name, although slandered by most beyond my city, is Paytric. I am the grandson of those who first stayed within this city after it was laid to destruction by your very ancestors many moons ago. It was my mother who followed her father in taking control of those who stayed here. It is our duty to protect them from any threat, just as our own king should have done before he ran for the shadows in fear moons ago.” Kell shuffled her stance as Paytric turned his attention to her. “For years me and those brave enough to create homes, families amongst the ruins of the once great city of Merrik stayed with me. So welcome, for this is your home as well as ours. Especially you all, Hadrian, Zacriah and Emaline.”
Paytric stood, bowed but never dropped his stare from us. All his followers copied him, each bowing our way. To us, the monsters who ruined this place. But why?
Once Paytric straightened, he gripped the edges of his seat and sat back down, gesturing for Nyah to take the floor. “Forgive me, but I am tired. Age is not a friend, but in fact a foe. Nyah, please, I will let you take this next part. I am still reeling from shame after our first encounter.”
Paytric wasn’t. Not with the lick of dry humor that thickened his words.
“Is this the part when I apologize for worrying you all?” Nyah said, shrugging her shoulders and wincing slightly. She spared us each a glance, moving her mouth into a silent apology as she looked to Emaline and Illera.
“That depends,” I said, walking forward. “For the reasoning behind it.”
I wanted to be angry for her misleading me, but I couldn’t muster the necessary emotion. This was the first time I’d spoken with Nyah properly since our encounter in Lilioira. I was greatly relieved to see her on these sands.
“When we last spoke I told you we had experienced some, rough seas, so to say. Saying it put us off course is the biggest understatement. It was Neivel who spotted land. The crew was tired, and the unexpected heat had become close to unbearable. We took the chance and went towards it, unknowing that rest from the ocean was what we all needed. By that point we couldn’t cope with staying on the sea a moment longer. When Paytric saw our ship, he did act as anyone would when unexpected guests dock on your land. It is safe to say that they believed we were a threat, and with the current situation we all face, I don’t blame him.”
I looked towards Paytric, whose jaw tightened, physically embarrassed by what happened so we did not push. That was a conversation for another time.
“All it took was a mention of you three and to prove we were not a true threat for them to lower their anger and welcome us,” Nyah explained. “Since the initial meeting they have shown myself and the crew I brought nothing but respect and kindness.”
“When you sent me all those feelings of pain, I thought you were in trouble,” I said, annoyed at Nyah’s actions.
“That would be my fault,” Paytric called out. “As I said, we did not welcome her with kindness to begin with.”
“I was beyond exhausted which made me act out.” Nyah rubbed her wrists without realizing. “All is forgotten. We have common enemies to focus our attention on. That is another reason why I did not tell you that all was well Zac. I needed you to come, and I knew you at least have Hadrian tethered to your side. But bringing Emaline was a bonus.”
“Why is that, Nyah?” Hadrian questioned her. “Pray t
ell, why is our being here important?”
“We are linked in more ways than you know,” Paytric interrupted, his voice rough until he cleared it with a forced cough. “It is a new custom for the family of the chosen ruler of this city to sit beside his or her elder. But as you see the space beside me is bare, which was not always the case. I had a son. Had. Taken forcefully from me, only his tongue left as a token on the ruined sheets of his bed. I believe you are aware of what it is I refer too?”
I looked to Hadrian who was confused as me. But the coin soon dropped.
“Ah, I see the spark of knowing in your eyes for you recognize of what I speak on, even if it is tainted with the time that has passed since you laid eyes upon my son.”
“Paytric refers to the Morthi prisoner Gordex presented to us when we first arrived in Olderim. The bait he used to entrap us in his not-so perfect lies and to help us join the new legion he wanted to create.”
As Nyah said it, I could see the trail of black blood coating the flag-stone floors of the throne room in Olderim. I saw the hooded figure being dragged between two Niraen soldiers, then dumped on the ground beneath, who I thought to have been, King Dalior’s feet. His tongue missing, his face swollen and peppered with bruises and cuts.
Fadine clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle the cry of shame. She, being a solider, would have interacted with the prisoner, not knowing the truth behind his life.
“My son, he was taken from his own room. One moment he was there, the next he was not. Only until our spies within your capital sent word back about the Druid’s return and after they found his body in the dark cells beneath the palace, did I know the truth. This Druid,” he spat. “He took my son and used him as a way to create conflict with our people. He pinned the blame on us, used lies to knot the truth into his own bidding. Why he took my son, I do not know. One day, as my power blinds him and sword pierces him I will ask. Was it coincidence or was it planned? Either way, he is our enemy as he was before when he manipulated the chosen Dragori all those moons ago. When his people used them to level cities and spill blood. Just as I know my son leaving was not his choice, nor was it your ancestors’ choice to kill so many here. We all know that.” Paytric gestured around the room to this guards. “That is why we stayed. Those fearful elves in Vcaros hide from the truth, finding it easier to blame you all even to this day. They cover themselves in articles of gold as protection. They face every visitor with distrust and hate. Not us. No.”
I looked to Kell to see her reaction, but her face was expressionless. It was as if she wasn’t listening at all. Eyes unblinking, sweat rolling down her dark skin.
Not once during our entrance here had I felt the presence of gold. And the bowing of heads, the signs of respect. These elves did not fear us, far from it.
“I am glad, Dragori of three, that you have arrived within this city. I believe it is the Goddess’s own way of showing you that we are not in fear, we do not hold hate in our hearts for you.”
“Your kind words are appreciated,” Hadrian said. “And my deepest apologies regarding your son. My heart”—Hadrian placed a hand atop it—“pains for your loss. I understand what it is to have one of your own blood leave for the next life. My deepest sympathies.”
Paytric displayed his honest smile. “Nyah has told us of why you visit, and of what drove you here. She has added what may follow. That is why I have great wishes to speak with you. Me and those who entrust their lives in my family’s hands, we have a proposition for you. As a united people, we offer you our numbers for the coming fight. It would be our greatest pleasure to stand by the Dragori’s side and rewrite history. We have our own quarrels with the Druid, and if you have us, we would delight in sharing the field with you when it comes to the final dance.”
This entire meeting had gone down different paths since we arrived, but this. This was never expected.
Hadrian stuttered, losing his sense of confidence for a moment as Paytric’s offer settled in. Since arriving in Morgatis and witnessing Vcaros’s reluctance to help our fight we had grown used to the resistance. But for these people. These strangers to offer their support without the need for promises was refreshing as it was needed.
“We would appreciate your help in the war to come, for it comes at a much-needed time. But you must forgive me for my brashness, this question would also be asked of me if I willingly offered up soldiers to strangers. What is it you want out of this?”
“I want nothing more than to repay the debts of my son. I wish to show this Druid the agony and torment he bestowed on me since my only heir was stolen. We all do.”
Pain cut across Paytric’s aged face for a moment. His eyes glazed over and filled with a sheen of tears. As if his people sensed his sadness the entire room exploded in agreement. There shouts refreshed Paytric’s smile once again.
Hadrian bowed, knowing this was not his time to question further. “So be it. We graciously accept your offer.”
Paytric slapped his hands on the chairs arms and stood again, wobbling on his old legs. “Then we must feast this night and come sunrise you will return with Nyah to Vcaros’s borders. We shall follow behind with our heads raised high. It is the greatest honor to face the uncertainty beside you all.”
Hadrian walked towards Paytric who beckoned him over with his frail hands. Each took the others hand and shook, signifying the acceptance of our new allies.
WE SAT AROUND on plush cushion, legs crossed, and hands occupied with fresh tankards of water. I rubbed my thumbs across the condensation of the tankard, watching the droplets form against the lines that marked my finger prints. The sunbaked air was not as hard to swallow during the night, but a fresh cold drink did help cool the insides that the night couldn’t reach. Nyah was the only one who couldn’t sit still. After attempting it she opted to pace the floor as she spoke to us.
“They are here, enjoying the fruits of this place. Negan is not as bothered about staying, but Neivel seems to be enjoying himself just a little too much.” Nyah answered my question about her brothers, since they too had been on the ship and absence since we arrived. She’s already told us news of the Alorian soldiers who occupied them on their journey. News had already been sent to their sleeping quarters within the building to prepare for our journey tomorrow.
“Nyah, how is it I never knew that you had siblings?” Hadrian asked once he finished chewing his piece of dried meat.
“You never asked. And besides, they are part of the Alorian armies, not the Niraen side. I thought it was too sensitive for me to bring them up since they left Thessolina to join another legion.”
Nyah and Hadrian share a glance.
“I can assure you it does not bother me, not now when we all must fight as one,” Hadrian answered.
“Have I missed something?” I said, clearing a drip of water from my thigh.
“It is unheard of for those born on a certain soil to join another’s army. It happens, but it is not common.” Fadine took over explaining the strange tension regarding Nyah’s brothers. “My guess is they too are magickly blessed in some way, that is normally an easy route into joining Queen Kathine’s many ranks.”
Nyah tapped her nose and pointed at Fadine, “That may be the reason. Being of half Alorian blood, my brothers have the option to choose between which army they joined. It is their right.”
“I am not disagreeing with you there!” Hadrian raised a hand in surrender. “Will these elusive brothers of yours be joining us tonight?”
“I hope not,” Kell yawned. “It has been a long time since we have all been in the same room, but after spending extensive time with you on that ship I would be happy not to see them for another hundred years.”
We all chuckled as Nyah pulled a dramatic face and put the back of her hand to her forehead.
“The only person I want to meet is a bed and who ever blesses us with dreams,” Illera said.
“Here here!” Emaline raised her tankard. “Some sleep would be welcome.”
> Kell promptly stood, swaying her sharply cut black bob and walked off towards one of the doors in this room. We all ceased our laughing and turned to her. Not once had she said more than a single word since arriving.
“Kell?” I asked through a mouthful of spice bread.
She looked over her shoulder, “I’m going to get some rest.”
“Has something bothered you?” Hadrian asked. “You have been distant since we arrived.”
Kell shook her head. “Nothing that concerns you.” Raising a splayed hand, she waved any more questions off and bade us goodnight.
“Is she always so talkative?” Nyah asked, taking Kell’s now empty place on the floor.
“Something is off with her reaction here. I understand the tension between her people and those here, but the tension is palpable.” I sipped my tankard.
“Zac, if she is your guard shouldn’t you be staying with her?” Nyah asked, nodding her head in the direction Kell had taken.
“I am sure one more night of privacy will be fine.” I didn’t need to look to Hadrian to know he was looking right at me. I could feel the warmth of this stare lingering across my skin like a kiss.
“There are three rooms, and forgive me, Fadine. I do not think I won’t to be staying with someone I don’t know.”
“Nyah is right,” I said, brushing Hadrian off with a flirtatious smile. “You stay with Fadine tonight, and I will stay with Nyah. She will be my guard now anyway.”
“I still have not agreed to that, Zac,” Nyah said, hands on hips. “Do you really think I have the capability of making you bleed? I don’t think so.”
“What if it was me?” Hadrian asked, opening the floor for yet another sarcastic reply from Nyah.
“You know very well I would have no problem doing it to you.” She smiled. “No problem at all.”
Hadrian clapped a hand to his broad chest and opened his mouth wide. “Me, your Prince. How could you.”