Lord Of Dragons (Book 2) (20 page)

"You really believe in their god, don't you? So much so that you'd throw away everything to stay here and waste away in their little wonderland? Have you so easily forgotten about the blood vow that we've made? No, no, don't shake your head at me, we swore a pact to kill King Braxion. Nothing, not even this god of the earth can allow you to turn your back on our vow. I'll forgive your insanity because I know you are still mesmerized by the experience. But like it or not, we
are
leaving tonight for Shaar'el...even if I have to knock you out and drag you there myself."

"Seriously?" Tael scoffed, and was furious at her arrogance and insistence on always being right. But at the same time, from looking at her serious eyes he realized he needed to be careful at what he said, for going too far would likely push her away forever. "But can we at least return here someday? I don't know...it's really hard to explain. And I have no intention of breaking our vow. You didn't experience what I experienced in the vision. It's like who encounters a god in their lifetime? I feel like I've just scratched the surface of some immense truth, and now you're asking me to walk away from it?"

Sebine placed her hand on his arm, and stroked it gently as if he were a baby. "Leaving Rez'el won't keep you from experiencing Gaa'el... Think about it, he is the god of the earth? The earth is underneath us everywhere we go. You can have that vision again, I promise you. The high priestess taught me her spell that causes people to connect with the gods, and not just the earth god, but she hinted that her master said that if I discovered the true name of other gods, then I could cause people to experience them directly. Though she was afraid of the prospect, especially considering the evil nature of some gods."

A laugh escaped Sebine's mouth as Tael realized he had been gaping at her in troubled amazement. "So that was how I was able to see the earth god?"

"The high priestess invoked the god by whispering his name and she cast the spell on us both. I resisted and failed to be affected by the god's power. It seems like you were strongly affected by Gaa'el. You eyes were like inky pools and you babbled these strange words and raved like a lunatic."

"Really? I don't remember any of that. Just the sense of oneness and power, and the feeling like anything is possible. You can do that, cast that spell?"

The Princess shrugged and her eyes turned wary and hard. "I can, but I have to warn you, the risks of going too deep can mean the utter obliteration of your body and soul. Care too much about what you are searching for, and the deep waters of the god will fill your soul and leave nothing left of the thing you call your self."

Tael followed Sebine towards the northern gates of Rez'el, all the while wondering whether he would survive another encounter with Gaa'el, or be destroyed under the power of disintegration. But he knew he would ask Sebine to cast the spell over him some time in the future, for he craved to hear the rest of the god's story of creation and civilization. Hints he believed contained secrets to surviving the cursed, ancient ruins found in the northern steppes. Another reason why his bond to Gaa'el was everlasting...

Chapter Twenty-Three

IN THE HAZY, soft light of the new moon, the city of Khalas Dralorn appeared as a ghostly, silver memory of older times, of better times, of the ancient world where elves and gods ruled the whole world. Yet to Master Shalinor, the feeling of the city was filled with wistfulness and regret, of wisdom unbalanced with sanity, and the ethereal sense of perpetually missing something. Perhaps the loss of so many of the old and wise trees from the hundred-year blight contributed to the wizard's feeling. He certainly missed lazily walking about the city under the old white oaks.

As he sauntered through the city in the early morning hours, he found his eyes wandering and darting from building to building, down dark alleyways, and around silver statues of ancient elven heroes, their eyes staring as if searching for answers in the shadows of the still morning light. The gardens seemed tamer than they had been the first time he had visited, now aligned and logical, as opposed to the wild chaos of the mad celebrations of nature that were once expressed in the city gardens of Khalas Dralorn.

He had loitered about the outskirts of the city all day, listening for whispers and rumors of the departure of the high elves from the great city. In the yellow-light of the taverns at night he'd found many a complaint of the changing world of elven kind, and of the demise of their pride and heritage, and of the certainty of war and the unstoppable army led by King Braxion. Some vowed to stay and fight and defend Khalas Dralorn, while many others swore they'd join the dark elves and seek them out in their caves to the north. Rare to find high elves in the common areas, other than the few passing through to the central city. The elven or mixed blood citizens of low birth knew they had no chance of escaping east with the high elves. Only those with the highest caste and purest blood would be allowed to depart east on their shimmering sea vessels.

Master Shalinor even wondered if the Council of High Elves would even grant him an audience. His only chance was for him to seek out his father in his illuminated mansion overlooking the Gardens of Eternity. It was his only option if he hoped to plead his case and see if he could dissuade the high elves from leaving Khalas Dralorn. Not that he had any hope of them actually listening...

"Have you lost your way? The law only allows high elves here in the central city," said a melodic voice from behind him. The wizard turned to inspect the beautiful face of a high elf woman carrying a longbow and a slain silver fox. A smile crossed Master Shalinor's face.

"Once again we meet, Princess Theria. I see the gods of the hunt have favored you this morning...a fine blessing to encounter a silver fox. Do you take this as a good omen for the high elves?" Master Shalinor said a silent prayer to the gods for the chance meeting with the daughter of the high elven king.

"Greetings, master wizard, my apologies for not recognizing you earlier. It is a fair omen to encounter you after my luck with hunting the silver fox." The princess pursed her rose-hued lips and glanced at the tall tower of the elven council. "The gods have ordained our meeting, I am certain of it. Have you heard of our plan to sail east and seek a new home for our people?"

Master Shalinor bobbed his head and maintained a grave expression on his face. "Dire times for the elven people. My heart has been heavy all yesterday and evening, and still until the morning. I wander about the silvery city of Khalas Dralorn as aimless as a drunken sage lost in the universe of his thoughts. I wait for the gods to bless me with the wisdom needed in this precarious position we find ourselves."

"We elves see life as a smoother flow of events than do the mortals. The rise and fall of darkness are like the ebb and flow of the tide at the seashore. We do not concern ourselves with the drama of those of short lives."

"And yet the tide as black and powerful as King Braxion's army does move you, Your Royal Highness. Never in the recorded history of almost ten thousand years have I heard a story of flight by the high elves to escape a mortal army."

Princess Theria's face hardened under the wizard's provocation. "The Princes of Naverstrom did cause us to retreat from Khalas Dralorn temporarily, if you recall your history, master wizard. We were forced to forge an alliance with the humans and dwarves, and only with the combined power of our casters consuming powerful, ancient relics were we able to imprison the immortal princes in Naverstrom. But likely you do not know the truth of their identity? And the truth of the entity they call their father...a god, or so they claim."

"I was with King Salgar when he slew a Prince of Naverstrom...a dark elf, by his appearance and proclivities."

"So you know the truth, then. But the question is, does Jolrath and the other dark elves of Drazal'tan know of this?"

"Tis unknown. For now they seek to defeat King Braxion and the draenyx army, but I often wondered if Jolrath is secretly in league with one of the Princes of Naverstrom. Likely not Princes Xanthes. And there is much competition amongst the Princes for dominance and favor from their god, the god they call King and Father. Unfortunately for the elven people, the very act of the high elves leaving for the east plays well into the plans and wishes of the dark elves. Jolrath seemed pleased..."

Princess Theria frowned and fixed her lavender eyes on the wizard. "Tell this to my father, and to the high council. They will be angry with me for bringing you into their inner sanctum, but I do not care." She held out the body of the silver fox she had hunted. "This was a good omen for my people. The god of the earth has spoken. Will you come with me to see the King?"

"I will come, though we must move quickly, as I need to soon leave Drazal'tan. Lead on, Your Royal Highness. Where you go I will follow." The wizard gave her a formal bow done with extra vigor at the satisfaction of convincing the King's daughter. The elven princess nodded and strode off through the still silent streets.

When they reached the jutting silver and golden spires of the elven palace, the wizard found himself entranced at the many thousand year old architecture. Not a single visit had he found himself tired of studying the lofty palace formed of inter-connected geometrical lines with intricate, purposefully misaligned angles that defied logic and sanity. Many a time he found himself forcing his eyes away from staring at the palace for fear of losing his mind. Rare was the visit to the King's chambers, especially this early in the morning, without receiving an official writ granting an audience in the throne room.

"Wait here while I summon my father," said Princess Theria, and she open the grand double doors leading into the King's Royal Chambers. The wizard glanced around the hallway, feeling conspicuously out of place here in the palace of Khalas Dralorn. He'd had more than his share of conflict and controversy with the high elves in the past, and he wanted to avoid embarrassing his father yet again. Master Shalinor's heart sank when he thought of the prospect of his father leaving Drazal'tan forever, and perhaps never seeing him again.

The doors opened again, and Princess Theria's grave face motioned for him to enter. The wizard hesitated at the threshold, remembering the ancient warding protecting the chambers.

"You may enter, master wizard." King Rhaelian studied Master Shalinor for a long, uncomfortable moment, then turned to gaze out the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the Royal Gardens. The King had never been close to the wizard, and he might have even described their relationship as frayed. Especially after what had happened with Old King Salgar and the fractured wars...

"What is it you want this time, Master Shalinor? Trying to convince me yet again to fight another war?" The King scoffed and shot the wizard accusing eyes. "You remembered how that turned out. Only you and the humans are to blame for being cut off from Drazal'tan."

That was an ugly war for the elves, and the wizard knew he was mostly to blame. "I did what I did to protect the world, Your Majesty. Would you have done things differently? Or rather, instead of reminiscing about the past, how would you handle things differently now?"

The King scoffed, but held his tongue and gestured for the wizard to continue. The wizard almost sneered in delight at the monarch's failure to retort. He felt emboldened and raised his voice louder now.

"We find ourselves once again facing a scourge created in the fetid minds of the Princes of Naverstrom. Would you cower away and leave Khalas Dralorn to the dark elves? Can you be sure that Jolrath is not in league with the Princes? Have you lost your will to fight, to retain that which is yours?" Master Shalinor paused now to try and get a sense of the emotions of King Rhaelian, and was disappointed by his lack of anger. He tried another tact. "Will your daughter never again be able to hunt the mystical creatures of Drazal'tan?"

A long, bitter sigh escaped from the King's lips, and the wizard was almost gleeful to have found the thing to have moved his emotions. "It was not my motion to leave Drazal'tan and retreat to the fair island of the east. My people are weary of war and fighting. The seek to live out their lives in higher pursuits and are still saddened by the loss of loved ones in the last war. We pure-blood elves are not a populous people. And from what our scouts tell us, these draenyx are fierce and terrible creatures, wickedly brutal warriors who crushed the defenses of the dwarven cities. How much better will we fare against them?"

The wizard wanted to call the King a coward, but doubted that would do much to persuade him. "You know what they want, and they'll pursue every hideous cause to gain the freedom they so crave. And once they possess that freedom, do you think they'll stop there? No, they'll conquer every mountain and city and valley in the world. Even your fair island to the east will not be safe from those abominations. And by then it will be too late for your people."

The King opened his mouth to speak, but the wizard, sensing his position of strength, interrupted him.