by Timothy Bond
PROPHECY'S QUEEN
Prequel to The Triadine Saga
by Timothy Bond
Prophecy's Queen is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Timothy Bond
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions of this book, in any form.
Smashwords Edition
First Edition, April 2015
Cover design by Jeanine Henning
http://jhillustration.wordpress.com
Editing by Kelly Hartigan of XterraWeb
http://editing.xterraweb.com
Published by myOstrich Press
Table of Contents
Copyright Page
Foreword
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
The End
Also by Timothy Bond
About the Author
Foreword
In this prequel novella to the epic fantasy series The Triadine Saga, we follow the Elven Princess Rozlynn as she struggles with her role in The Prophecy and what she must do to keep the world from falling into darkness.
This is a story of love and conflicts, personal growth, and freedom to choose your own destiny. The world of Elves, Dwarves, and humans, is inexorably tied to magic, wizards, and dragons, as the battle of good versus evil, light versus darkness, wages on.
Will Rozlynn make the sacrifices and the choices necessary to ensure that The Prophecy stays on the right path? Will her sister, the Elven Queen, prevent her from making her own choice? Will Rozlynn's love for an Elven Hunter betray her and lead her astray?
Join Rozlynn and a number of your favorite characters from The Watcher's Keep and The Dragon Rises to find out how it all began.
One
"And I forbid you even talking about it!" Queen Lilliene was furious with her sister for bringing up the same topic again. The Princess was stubborn, but it ran in the family.
"All the signs point to this being the right time, Sister," Rozlynn argued.
"The signs, the signs," the Queen echoed, tired of the argument. "You and your sorceress are the only ones who think the time is now."
Rozlynn roughly pushed her chair back from the table and rose with a sigh. She walked to a tower window and looked out across the placid alpine valley.
"And if we are the ones who are right? What happens then?"
"You know I am not a Prophecy Scholar," Queen Lilliene began, trying to soften her tone. "Will you present your case to the Council at least?"
"That bunch of old fools?" Rozlynn was still worked up. "I don't know why you even meet with them! You know the King has no respect for their decisions at all."
"Theinial agreed that the decisions of the Council would be honored and respected," the Queen retorted.
"But not followed. Not if they went against his own wishes. He lets the Council sit here in Alpenvail and make decisions such as how much silk will be required next season, or if we will secretly trade with the humans, but nothing that ever affects Kalystra. He would never follow the word of the Council when it came to running his city."
The Queen had long ago given over the daily activities of running the Elven city of Alpenvail to the Council of Nine. This was a group of respected, wise, and ancient Elves who settled in the hidden alpine valley centuries ago. They honored the old ways, and more than most, they understood the reason for this city to exist in the first place. The Council had accepted the responsibility of securing the Earlach Stone after The Breaking of the World at the end of the First Age.
The Earlach Stone was the centerpiece of a magical talisman created through the combined efforts of Elves, Dwarves, humans, and the Nordae-Grandia. The Triadine, as it was called, was instrumental in ending the war. It was an extremely powerful weapon, and no one wanted to see it used again. In the process of defeating the Dark Wizard's armies, mountains were leveled and new mountains were raised. The earth was shattered, reformed, and then shattered again. Only the inner strength of the Princess Symerna prevented the Triadine from completely destroying the world.
Rozlynn understood on some level what the Queen was feeling. Sometimes you had to make sacrifices for the greater good. Symerna understood that when she volunteered to wield the mighty weapon. She died shortly after the end of the war, her soul shattered after what she endured through the power of the Triadine. The Queen was never able to come to grips with her death, even after nearly a thousand years.
Princess Rozlynn was the most beautiful of the three sisters. Thus far, she had not married and spent much of her time in scholarship—though she did not lack for suitors. Even if she had not been of royal blood, there would have been dozens of Elven men pursuing her. Hair of gold that flowed to her waist framed a perfect face with almond-shaped blue-green eyes set just the right distance apart. Her Elven features were pronounced, with high cheekbones, pointed ears, naturally sculpted eyebrows, and a slightly pointed chin. Her nose was dainty but was perfect for her face, with a gentle uplift at the end.
She was slim like most of her kind, though strong and fit. She preferred walking to riding a horse, though she was an excellent rider. With all the research she did throughout the region, she spent much of her time dressed in nondescript traveling clothes and walking the forest roads of the Aren. Though men and Elves were no longer in formal contact with one another, she did keep open communication with the Julean Abbey in Caergana, where arguably the best writings on Prophecy were maintained.
The sisters were currently in the Queen's private study, high in a tower in Alpenvail. The castle complex contained two grand towers—Queen's and King's—connected by a delicate bridge. This city of the Elves located high in the Lumin Mountains was something of a magical place. With the aid of the Earlach Stone, its days were spent in perpetual spring no matter the season. The power of the stone directed the energy of the sun into the surrounding valley using a form of magic now lost to the Elves. This most powerful earth stone was secured in an impregnable tower in the center of the valley, protected by powerful magic as well as the isolation of the Elves.
The city was overflowing with flowers and fruit trees of every type imaginable. The higher elevations of the valley would see the necessary frost to set the fruit on apple, cherry, and pear trees, while the lower levels grew every form of citrus known. Vegetable gardens were abundant. Sheep, pigs, and domesticated red deer provided a year-round supply of livestock. Peacocks, chickens, geese, pheasant, ducks, and pigeons supplied a diverse enough mix of poultry to satisfy any chef. The lakes that dotted the valley were home to two species of trout whose population was well managed by the efficient Elves.
One side of the valley was covered in silkworm farms, the mulberry trees supporting millions of cocoons. Silk in various forms was the dominant fabric used in everything from coveralls for working in the fields to fine gowns for celebrating the dozens of holidays that called for feasts in the Elven city.
Life was easy for the Elves of Alpenvail, and in their isolation, they wanted nothing to do with The Prophecy or anything in the outside wo
rld. Rozlynn knew that presenting her case to the Council of Nine was a total waste of time and that the result was predetermined.
"I will be leaving in the morning," she announced to the Queen. "I'm going to the Abbey to meet with Brother Hewin. He recently received several volumes of Goblin prophecy, newly discovered in ruins above the Northwood. He finished translating most of them, but there are still some things he needs my help with."
"You are going back out among the humans?" the Queen questioned. "Don't you have enough to study in Kalystra? Rykee is very proud of the work he has done on The Prophecy."
"I've been over every volume in the Royal Library a dozen times or more," Rozlynn replied. "And though Rykee has organized the volumes well, he is no Prophecy Scholar."
“You know I don't like it when you go out among the humans, even if it is just to the Abbey. You be careful, Sister," Lilliene said firmly, "and take Darius with you."
"I always am, and I always do, My Queen," Rozlynn replied with just a little sarcasm in her voice. Roz loved her sister, but she told herself this was the last time she would debate The Prophecy with her.
The two women embraced as only sisters could in the midst of an argument, as one of the Queen's servants arrived in the doorway on the far end of the room.
"Excuse me, Your Majesty," the white-haired Elf said, bowing nearly double. "You have a visitor in the garden."
"In the garden?" she asked, raising one eyebrow. "Send them up!"
"I, ah, Majesty, well, I don't think," the servant stammered, not knowing exactly how to reply.
"You don't think what?" she snapped, a little terser than she wished.
"It is ... it is a Dwarf, My Queen," he finally managed to say.
Rozlynn looked at her sister and laughed. "Bandefin," she said with a smile on her face.
"Who else?" Lilliene replied. "Tell him I will be right down," she instructed her servant.
* * *
The Dwarf was admiring several carved stone pieces adorning the Queen's garden when Lilliene entered from a small door at the base of the tower.
She strode across the northern end of the high-walled arboretum and stood before the heavily bearded little man. "How DO you get in here without my Elven Hunters noticing?"
"The day that a Dwarf cannot evade an Elf is the day the sun will stop rising, the birds will stop singing, and the honey-mead of the Elves will turn to vinegar!"
The Dwarf took both of the Queen's hands in his and bowed his head in respect. "It is good to see you again, Lilliene," he greeted her in his deep rumbling voice.
"Well met, Master Dwarf," the Queen replied formally. “Someday I will figure out how you get into my valley without my Elven Hunters knowing about it. What brings you to my city in the mountains?"
“Someday I will tell you of the secret ways I travel, Queen Lilliene, but not today. Today, I have several more tiella birds for you," he replied, motioning to a small hooded cage on the ground nearby. "These are bred for the cold, and though they will return to me without guidance, you should be able to send them anywhere you wish at any time of the year and not worry about them freezing when leaving your valley."
The tiella bird was the ancient messenger bird of royalty in the Aren. In the past, all the races had communicated over great distances using these marvelous little birds. They could listen to a message and speak it back to the recipient as long as it was not too complicated. This was not their only amazing talent. They could locate a person, any person, anywhere in the Aren. If you could describe them in a way that the little bird could understand, it would eventually find them.
"Thank you, Bandefin," she said in earnest, "but I really do not know how useful these birds are any more. There are so few of us left who can speak with them."
"The breeding is something I was doing anyway," he said softly, "and as you say, so few of us can speak with the messenger birds ... where else would I take them? It made sense to bring you another batch of these sturdy fliers."
The ability to speak with the birds was now lost to humans and all but Bandefin's family of Dwarves. He was a direct descendent of King Vargas Silverbeard, the last Dwarven King who died in the Great War. Queen Lilliene, Princess Rozlynn, and Lilliene's daughter Lynntania were the only Elves remaining who could speak with the messenger birds. The use of the birds was now very limited.
"Bandefin!" Princess Rozlynn greeted her friend as she came running across the garden. "It is so good to see you!"
"Princess," the Dwarf replied, bowing formally.
"How long are you staying?" she asked. "At least stay for dinner. We are roasting a goose that got into my Sister's vegetable garden and made a huge mess of things. I've just been to the kitchen, and it smells wonderful."
"I'm afraid I cannot stay, Princess," the Dwarf replied, "as I don't want to be caught in the mountains after dark."
"You just don't want my Elven Hunters to know how you get in and out of here without being seen," the Queen said, only half-joking.
"That too, Your Majesty," the Dwarf replied and winked. "Seriously, I have far to travel and really must be going. I only wished to drop these birds off and maybe get one mug of your fine honey-mead before I go."
As if on command, a kitchen servant appeared in the garden with a tray of light snacks and three mugs of the Elven honey-mead.
"Your wish is my command, Master Dwarf," Lilliene replied and smiled. "Please, enjoy a little respite before you leave."
"I think I can manage that," Bandefin replied with a grin. The Dwarf did love his honey-mead.
Two
The trip from Drianna's cottage to the valley where the Wizard Posh had built his tower would have taken the sorceress nearly three weeks if she had not traveled by the Wizard Ways. Though she was not an expert in The Ways, she knew the requirements for navigation in the tunnels below the earth. Without the proper spells and runes, the entrance to The Ways appeared to be a smooth wall of stone amid some ancient ruins.
The Ways were once used by the Nordae-Grandia to travel great distances in very short periods of time. This helped them in their role as peacekeepers throughout the land. Many passages were destroyed in The Breaking, but those that were still working could be used by mages who knew the correct runes.
The challenge of traveling The Ways was compounded by the fact that at each junction the direction you took the last time might not take you to the same place this time. You needed to draw the rune that represented your destination, speak the Words of Travel, and then follow the rune to your desired goal. Travel time between two points was nearly constant despite the distance, which never ceased to amaze the sorceress.
There was an entrance to The Ways near the sorceress' small cottage. She had built her home in the deep woods above the village of Caergana on the northeastern edge of Lake Estonan. She interacted very little with the villagers, though some sought her out for healing and simple magical aids. Though the Church considered the practice of magic blasphemous, they had no real power to control what the sorceress did. She kept mostly to herself so there were no issues. The people were more practical when they needed her, though many called her a witch and felt threatened by her presence when they were not seeking her help.
Emerging from The Ways into a valley deep in the mountainous area knows as the Dragon's Teeth, Drianna surveyed her surroundings. The Wizard Posh was a recluse by choice, and though he protected his valley with wards and other magical devices, she would easily bypass his security and walk the short distance to the tower.
"Mylan, it is good to see you looking so healthy," Drianna greeted the single servant that Posh kept. He was human, long lived for one of his species, and the sorceress suspected that Posh was experimenting on his manservant with longevity spells. The wizard himself was more than a thousand years old. Mylan's family served him for much of that time, though Mylan was the last of his line.
"Drianna, it is always a pleasure to see you," the old servant said, smiling as he rose from tending a sma
ll vegetable garden at the base of the tower. "What brings the Gaerwitch to see my Master on this fine day?"
The sorceress embraced Mylan, and then taking his arm in hers, she led him to the tower door. "I have need of your Master's assistance with a couple of challenging spells."
"You think he will help you after the last time?" Mylan asked, pushing the door open and letting the lady enter ahead of him.
"I have something to bargain with this time," Drianna replied, smiling, "and I think Posh will be more than happy to help when he sees what I have to offer in return."
Mylan laughed as the two climbed the stairs to the main rooms in the tower. "You two make quite a pair, Drianna. If you would spend more time around my Master, I think the two of you might actually become close friends."
The sorceress laughed lightly before replying, "You know Posh and I could never be together in that way. His love of Bethany will keep him from being with any other woman until his last breath."
"I do know that," Mylan said solemnly. "He thinks of little else these days, I'm afraid. His obsession with bringing her back has completely taken control of his life."
"I know, and though I wish there was something I could do to ease his burden, it is one he alone must bear."
The two emerged from the stairs into a large semicircular study where the Wizard Posh sat behind a large desk covered in scrolls and books of all shapes and sizes. His jet-black hair was unkempt as usual. It appeared he had not slept in days.
"You have a visitor, Master," Mylan announced.
"Go away!" the wizard barked without looking up. "I will see no one today!"
"You will see me, you grumpy old buzzard!" Drianna barked back.
"Drianna, you old Witch!" Posh yelled across the room. "You dare come back here after the way your last visit ended?"
When Drianna had last visited the wizard, she had sought his advice on several magical issues, and in his haste to get rid of her, he managed to cast a particularly nasty variation of a spell that triggered a Vision Rage. These fits were extremely dangerous and could kill anyone close to the wizard when one took him. An uncontrollable Vision Rage had resulted in the death of Bethany and the total destruction of the city of Barren Tor on the coast of the Arithe Ocean. These rages were why Posh lived alone in this isolated valley. The tower's protective magic channeled the destructive power of his rages into the surrounding mountains until they played themselves out.