Age of Valor: Awakening

by D. E. Morris

  Nothing, but she was certain she was not alone.

  “Hello?” Gathering her skirts, she stepped from the path and into the unknown. “Who is out there?” Everything in her was telling her this was a bad decision, but Ashlynn was too curious for her own good and she walked farther and farther in, the feeling of being watched never leaving her.

  “Hush!”

  She whipped her head toward the panicked whisper and saw two shapes crouch instantaneously. A giggle quickly followed. Realizing the two in the woods before her were too small to be adults, Ashlynn let go of a breath of relief. “All right then. Show yourselves, scoundrels.”

  There was whispering back and forth, a debate about whether or not to do as commanded, no doubt. Then more breaking branches as the culprits came forward. Two little elvish boys crept from the shadows to stand before her, only one of them having the decency to look somewhat ashamed. Ashlynn folded her hands before her, an air of superiority in her gaze. “Well now. What do you have to say for yourselves, giving a pregnant woman such a start?”

  “Sorry, Your Majesty,” said the one with regret on his face.

  “Ah, so you know who I am, then?”

  He nodded. “You are High Queen Ashlynn of Siness.”

  “And what would you be doing in these woods so late at night, and all alone, may I add?”

  The boys looked at each other, the silent one of the pair giving the other a stern look. Even with the lack of light she could see the silent exchange: the warning, the pleading, the irritation, the fear, and ultimately the relenting. The silent boy looked up at her. “We were going to play a trick on our mother. She is still at the feast.”

  “I see.” Ashlynn frowned. “But now you are going straight home to tuck yourselves back into bed, aren't you?”

  In unison both muttered, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Good boys. Off you go.” With hanging heads the two moved back into the darkness giving one another irritated shoves as they went. Now that she was alone Ashlynn let herself smile. When she and Kenayde were that age they would sneak out of bed all the time. On rare occasions they were scolded for not minding as they should, but most evenings ended up with stories by the fire and falling asleep in between her parents, limbs entangled with that of her little sister. Fond memories set her heart to ache; how she missed Emiline.

  As she turned back for the torch-lit path, a hand shot from the darkness, wrapping bony fingers around her neck.

  The man before her was more than twice her size in girth and stood well over a foot in height. His strong hand tightened as she gasped for air and felt her feet lift from the ground. Try as she may to cry out, to draw attention from somewhere, all she could do was struggle for breath and wrap her small hands around the wrist of her assailant, clawing futilely at his skin. In a mocking manner, his mouth opened and he sputtered as if choking himself, but the noise quickly turned into a low, dark laughter.

  “Hello, boy,” said the man. His features were shrouded in a darkness that didn't come from the forest and his breath stank of decay. “At least, you were a boy in my court. What is the matter? Nothing to say to your old friend?”

  “Who...?” was all she was able to get out. Her vision was swimming before her now and Ashlynn felt tears building in her eyes. Just as the first thoughts of using fyre to free herself entered her mind the grip on her was released and she fell to the forest floor in a coughing heap.

  “Get up,” he growled, grabbing her by her wrists and yanking her to her feet.

  “Who are you?” she asked, her voice full of fear. The only thing she could think of was to somehow save her baby. Months ago she wouldn't have shied away from a confrontation like this, but with new life growing inside her, caution and care were her new natural instincts. Perhaps if she played the helpless woman she would have a chance to pull the dagger from her boot. “Please, whatever it is you want I can make sure you have it.”

  “Can you now?” The darkness pulled back at the same time the clouds moved from the moon. Light spilled in watery shafts through the trees and let Ashlynn finally see her attacker. She should have screamed but instead found herself frozen. His robes were rich, heavy with color and pattern and fit for royalty, but the pallor of his skin was no darker than ash. Dark streaks of liquid trickled from his ears, his nose, smeared under his eyes. The moment he saw recognition on Ashlynn's face, he grinned a bloody grin. “Know who I am now, boy?”

  “T...Tadhg.” She trembled in his grip but couldn't make herself pull away. “You...you're dead.”

  “You would know.” He pulled her closer and bent so as to look down into her face. “You are the one who killed me.”

  She turned her head, his breath making bile rise in her throat. “This can't be real. You can't be real. You're dead.”

  “Say it one more time. Maybe you will convince yourself that it true.”

  “You're dead!”

  “You murdered me!” Tadhg snarled viciously. “Now you tell me you can give me whatever it is I want? Can you give me my life back? My kingdom? My family?” He gripped her wrists with one hand and grabbed her chin in the other, forcing her to look at him. “Do you think yourself a god, that you can take life at your whim?”

  She whimpered in true fear. “Please let me go.”

  “I was ordained to be king of my country. I was sent to clean the earth of the filth and the worthless. Men, women, children, all of them slaughtered for being a friend to the Gael, for sheltering the Gael, for protecting the Gael. Then there was you and your....kin. Had I slain you, even one of you, I would have lived forever! The world does not need Elementals. It needs to be rid of them!”

  “What do you want from me?”

  Darkness washed over his face deepening the shadows of already hollow bones. “You took everything from me. My wife is dead. My son, murdered by his own sister because you turned her against him. And now my daughter...my beautiful, treacherous daughter married to an elf and lost to me forever!” His shouts were so loud, Ashlynn wondered how no one else had been alerted, but as he leaned close to her once more, Tadhg's voice dropped to just above a whisper. “You took my family from me.” He released her chin and ran his fingers down her cheek. Pain shot through her as though his fingers were made of fire, and she cried out. “Now I will take your family from you.”

  Dropping her wrists, Tadhg shoved his hand through her garments and into her rounded belly.

  Chapter Four

  Kenayde wiped her eyes and buried her face in her napkin. She shook her head in disbelief, raising a chorus of laughter all around her. “It's true!” Jaryn exclaimed. “Hide your face all you want, little sister, but facts are facts.”

  She lowered her napkin, face red from laughing herself. “Tell the whole story, Jaryn! It was your fault I was drunk in the first place.”

  “I never said I was a good influence,” he grinned.

  “Clearly not if you got a twelve-year-old drunk,” giggled Nuala. “And you run a country? I will pray for your people.”

  “I didn't realize she'd taken my wine until she started arranging all the bits of food into battle camps. Her cup had been filled with water at the start of it all.”

  “Then I ran out. When I was still thirsty I decided whatever you were drinking should be perfectly fine for me.”

  Elas was trying not to laugh and failing miserably. “So you two are left alone for one afternoon and you have Kenayde waging a very literal food fight?”

  “Oh, aye. Didn't you ever wonder how she got the nickname of Pickle?”

  Kenayde squealed. “No, Jaryn!”

  “I asked her, I said, 'Kenayde, what are you doing?' and she said, 'There is no Kenayde, only Captain Pickle!' and the name stuck. Being the responsible lad I was, I filled her goblet again and played along, telling her every good captain needs a battle cry to rouse her troops. She considered it for quite some time, I'll give her that. Then, completely out of nowhere she yelled, 'For all the lentils!' before smashing a boiled c
arrot with a drumstick.”

  Even the laughter that followed the tale could not hide the scream that tore through the night.

  All heads turned toward the outside and Jaryn shot to his feet. “Ashlynn?” Before anyone else could even move he bolted outside to follow the crowd that was forming. The screaming came again and he called her name in a panic. “Ashlynn! Ashlynn, where are you?!”

  “Jaryn!”

  He shouldered his way through the searching elves and plunged into the darkness of the forest without a second thought. It was there he found her, crumpled on the ground, bleeding burns on her face and holding her belly. Blood was soaking through the skirt of her gown. She sobbed his name and reached for him, and Jaryn lowered himself to wrap his arms around her before yelling at the top of his lungs. “Someone help us!” His voice cracked with strain as he called again, holding Ashlynn's shaking body close. “It's all right, love. It's all right. I'm here. You're going to be all right.”

  Elves seemed to pour out of the forest from every direction, converging on the couple. In a matter of seconds Jaryn was torn from her and Ashlynn was being carried away, leaving him to stand there in helplessness. “I have to go with her!”

  “Rest,” said an elfin woman. “My people will take care of her.”

  “Rest?” Jaryn looked at her like she was crazy. “You expect me to rest when my wife could be...when she's...” He shook his head. “No, I'm going with her.”

  A strong hand reached out to stop him and Jaryn saw Cavalon there, as well as the others. They all looked as worried as Jaryn himself, but Cavalon shook his head. “They know what they're doing, Jaryn.”

  “I don't bloody well care if they know what they're doing! I need to be with my wife!”

  “You'll only get in the way!”

  Cavalon's loud voice echoed around them and Nuala touched Jaryn's arm.

  “The elves are among the most skilled healers of the world. She could not be in better hands.”

  Before he could protest, a crying Kenayde launched herself into his arms and hugged him tightly. Jaryn was at a loss and it was evident as he wrapped his arms around Kenayde and held her close. All of the elves surrounding them offered simple words of reassurance, all while trying to move the group out of the forest and back to the feasting tent. The crowds moved as one, Jaryn and Kenayde still holding tight to one another. None of them had any choice now but to trust the elves, but something made Cavalon lag behind.

  Once he was alone in the area, the Badarian crouched to look at the ground where Ashlynn had been found. It was hard to see in the dark and he silently lamented the fact that Luella wasn't there. Her kinship with darkness would have been a great advantage at the moment, but it was not to be helped. All he could do was wait for the clouds to pass from the moon again, and the moment it did, he went to work.

  Golden irises expanded, leaving only a slit of black pupil in the middle of Cavalon's eyes. Everything the moonlight touched, which wasn't much, became as clear to him as if he were viewing it in full daylight. For all he could tell there had been no sign of a struggle, nothing at all worth noting except for the indent in the ground where it almost looked as if Ashlynn had been thrown down. That, and the blood that had gathered as she lay in pain.

  His eyes shifted back and he stood with a thoughtful frown. Whatever happened, no one would know until Ashlynn was able to tell them herself.

  ~*~*~*~

  It was almost morning by the time any news came to the tent. Jaryn had been retrieved several hours after they'd found Ashlynn and had not yet returned. Most of the elves had gone home after offering shelter to Ashlynn’s friends. They’d all refused, wanting to be readily available in case anything should happen or if they were needed for any reason. Some of the elves stayed, playing soft music and bringing blankets and fresh milk when Lucien got hungry. He now slept against Nuala, who dozed in the comfort of Cavalon’s arm. He was drifting himself but trying to stay awake. Elas, unable to take the tension and the time of not knowing, fled the tent to shift into his dragon form and take to the water.

  One of the elves who had been caring for Ashlynn entered the tent in the early morning hours to tell everyone that Ashlynn had gone into labor and that there were complications, but she was stable for now. There was a tension in his expression that made Cavalon narrow his eyes, yet no matter how many times he questioned the elf, nothing more than vague answers were given. It was when he started to get irritated that Nuala suggested he sit down and try to get some sleep.

  The sun was beginning to spread blue and purple fingers across the sky when Elas returned. His spiky blue hair was wet and disheveled, and his doublet was still undone over his damp tunic. “Any news?” he asked breathlessly. Cavalon shook his head and the water dragon heaved a sigh before sinking to the floor close to them. He was about to close his eyes and try to find some rest as well when one of the elven men who had been assisting in the labor entered the tent. The look on his face was not encouraging.

  “What is it?” Cavalon demanded.

  “The baby has been born.”

  “What about Ashlynn?”

  “She has lost a large amount of blood. The child was early, you see. Her body was not ready to go through this yet.”

  Cavalon took his arm from around Nuala and got to his feet. He stalked close to the elf, towering over him in a threatening manner. “What are you trying to say?”

  He looked at Cavalon and shook his head. “The healers are doing all they can, but they make no promises.”

  Cavalon swore and turned away, kicking a chair over. Nuala handed Lucien to Elas and went to Cavalon, tucking her arms under his and embracing him. All he could do was wrap his arms around her and rest his chin on her head. “Ashlynn is strong,” Nuala reminded. “Stronger than most I have met. If anyone can come through this, she can.”

  “Kenayde.”

  Everyone looked to see Kenayde coming into the tent with the light of morning dawning behind her. Her dress had smudges of blood in places and her hair was slightly disheveled. In her arms was a bundle of cloth and on her face was a weary smile.

  “There is someone who would like to meet you all,” she said softly. Elas got to his feet to join the others as they gathered around Kenayde. She looked specifically at Nuala. “Jaryn and Ashlynn chose to name him Lochlainn.”

  It was impossible not to be touched and the winged queen smiled as her eyes teared. Cavalon put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “How is Ashlynn?” he asked.

  The smile Kenayde wore faded considerably. “Not well. There is bleeding that the healers have not been able to stop. I was asked to leave.”

  “Jaryn is still with her then?” asked Elas.

  “Yes. I took Lochlainn so he wouldn't have to worry about a crying baby as well as his beloved.”

  “May I?” Nuala asked in a whisper. Kenayde nodded and gingerly handed the baby over. Nuala let go of a small sigh, holding Lochlainn close. He was so small and warm. Light brown hair made his head as fuzzy as a peach. “Hello precious. Hello.” The baby made no noise and did not move; he was fast asleep. She turned her turquoise eyes to Kenayde, pleading in her expression. “Is there anything I can do? Tasarin once used my feathers for an elixir. Perhaps it would help this time as well.” She turned her head, rubbing her cheek against Lochlainn’s soft hair. “She cannot pass with this sweet child waiting to meet her. I will not allow it to happen.”

  The elven man looked at her. “There may not be enough time to make a potion.”

  This only made Nuala cling tighter to the child.

  “She was afraid of this,” said Kenayde wearily. “Our mother died giving birth to me.”

  With his free arm, Elas pulled her into a tight embrace. “She will not die,” he whispered fervently.

  Tears filling her eyes, she replied, “You don’t know that.”

  None of them did, and for another hour all they could do was wait and pray. They prayed together and they prayed silently. They
ate nothing and only moved when one of the two children did, adjusting them in their sleeping positions and switching arms to give someone a rest. When it felt like they could bear the silence no longer, Jaryn came in. There was such a strain on his face and when he sagged into the closest chair, Kenayde began crying anew.

  “No,” Jaryn managed, shaking his head. “She’s going to be all right. She’s going to be all right.”

  Kenayde lifted her face, shocked. After a moment, she ran to Jaryn and threw her arms around him and they cried together. The others were in a state of disbelief. It was not hard to assume the worst when Jaryn came in as he had. Now, knowing Ashlynn was going to be all right, they didn’t know what to do.

  “Where is my son?” Jaryn asked when Kenayde finally let him go.

  “Here.” Nuala brought the sleeping baby over and handed him to his father. “He's beautiful.”

  “Aye,” Jaryn said, beaming down at his child. “Did they tell you his name?”

  “They did.” Nuala folded her hands together over her heart. “Thank you. Nóe would be honored.”

  “When can we go see her?” Kenayde asked.

  Jaryn lowered his face to brush a kiss to Lochlainn’s brow. “She’ll need rest for awhile. They’ve given her a heavy sleeping drought.”

  Kenayde looked at Elas. “I don’t want to go home until I can see her.”

  “Neither do I.”

  Nuala and Cavalon looked at each other. “Well I’m not going anywhere,” he growled. She smiled at him and simply hugged his side. For now they would all stay on Mirasean and wait until Ashlynn was well enough to receive visitors. It would give them all more time to be with one another and get to know the children that would not remain children for long.

  ~*~*~*~

  Ashlynn slept for nearly two days before the healers felt she would be well enough to wake. When her friends had been told she’d lost a lot of blood, they failed to understand that she’d become so weak that her body could no longer fight to stay alive. It simply didn’t have the strength. Had it not been for quick work of the healers and skilled hands at magic, she would not have left the Isle of Mirasean alive, nor would she have ever seen her newborn son.