Red Rope of Fate (2 page)

The Lesser Elves fled to their last
refuge—the country of Lessa—where they encountered the good will of the humans of Calnor. The royalty of Calnor offered to protect the Lesser Elves, not for any hidden agenda or gain, but because they admired the Lesser Elves—who were now the only elves of the Continent.

The
Lesser Elves agreed, and friendship was forged between the two countries. The Higher Elves never came back and faded from human memory.

In honor
of the sacrifice the humans made on their behalf the elves traded exclusively with Calnor, and the two countries did everything possible to deepen their relationship. The major and perhaps only hurdle the two countries had to overcome was their inability to communicate.

Tari looked to the human translator—who spoke in the language of elves to the elven members of the audience, repeating the words the elf spoke to the humans.

Members of the Translators’ Circle were the only real means of communication between the two races.

The language of the elves was complex, lilting, and used pitches and sounds most humans could not mimic. Conversely
Calnoric was guttural and heavy—standing in direct opposition to the elves’ lighthearted nature. The Lesser Elves did not have the ability to learn multiple languages as the High Elves did, making the studies of languages arduous and difficult, and most humans were physically incapable of speaking elvish, making communication exchange difficult, if not nearly impossible.

However, citizens of both countries were able to cross the language barrier. Any human who wanted to learn elvish joined the
Translators’ Circle. The guild would feed and house them for the twenty to thirty years it typically took humans to learn passable elvish. The elves that set out to learn Calnoric were also forced to devote themselves to their studies for at least ten years. However, the human language took a physical toll on them, usually forcing the elves to retire from their translator positions at a young age.

Nodusigm was designed by human wizards and elvish enchanters to bypass the need for translators. It was supposed to serv
e as a bridge between two souls, allowing them to communicate heart to heart rather than through words.

Sadly, this desired connection had never been reached, but every few genera
tions there was a bound pair that was able to communicate to some degree.

T
ari’s gaze trailed to the royal box: the separated, central location at which members of either crown family sat for any occasion in the Celebration Hall.

The k
ings were not in attendance today—even though the ceremony was for the human King’s daughter-in-law. The Calnor Crown Prince Benjimir and the Lessa Crown Princess Yvrea, however, were there. They were a bond pair, the two future rulers of their respective countries. They had been bound at the traditional age of ten. Rarely were people bound as adults.

Tari blinked when the elf translator banged his staff on the ground again and strode off, the human translator behind him.
The human wizards and elf enchanters swept onto the scene. The elves started on Tari’s side of the curtain, one enchanter to one participant. The enchanter who approached Tari was tall and severe looking with a fierce expression.

Slightly daunted by his intensity, Tari shifted in place as the enchanter placed a hand on her head.
Although his hand was warm he morphed his mouth into a frown as he spoke in the weighty tones of magic.

The magic twined around Tari like a pleased cat, rubbing against her calves and pulling on her hair. She couldn’t see it, but she could feel its satisfied purrs.

The enchanter removed his hand, fixing Tari with a grim look as the magic continued to twirl around her.

Finally, the
enchanter nodded and swept off, joining the rest of the enchanters as they paraded to the other side of the curtain. The human wizards swirled to Tari’s side of the curtain, moving from elf to elf like a swarm of bees.

Tari was the last elf they encircled, buzzing around her before flicking their magic at her with large gestures.
They murmured to each other as their half of the binding ceremony stuck to Tari like dog fur. When they exchanged nods they shuffled off—still moving in a swarm.

A
wizard—a short, squat man with impressive eyebrows—tarried in front of Tari, rubbing his fingers and studying her. Tari lowered her eyes to look at him, and the wizard smiled and merrily waved before scuttling after his comrades.

Tari straightened her shoulders and uneasily glanced to her relatives. All four of them were facing the curtain, waiting for it to be dropped.

The elf enchanters and human wizards stood at the front of the platform, finishing the ceremony’s binding ties.

Tari listened to the undecipherable words of magic as she stared at the curtain. The elf enchanters hushed to a quiet but continuous drone, and the human wizards increased their volume until th
ey were shouting. A final chant, one last shouted word, and it was over. There was a thunderclap, and the air in Tari’s lungs was yanked out of her.

Tari almost pitched head first into the curtain from the strength of the binding. Her bell bracelet jingled as she took in gasps of air. She could
feel
it. At the very back of her mind she could feel the sense of someone
else
. The sensation was small, like a sputtering candle in the dark, but it was there.

Tari forcefully pushed herself upright, squaring her shoulders and ignoring her swimming senses that made her lightheaded and dizzy. The maroon curtain fell with the whisper of velvet, and Tari stared at her partner.

Tari’s mouth opened slightly, but she was unable to find words to express herself. Her partner was the last thing she expected.

“You’re a girl,”
He
said.

Tari shook her head slightly in disbelief
. “And I can understand you,” she said.

Chapter 2

Captain Arion

“You don’t speak Calnor
ic,” Tari’s partner said. He narrowed his storm gray eyes at her the way a soldier studies the enemies’ battle plan.

“No, and you’re not speaking elvish,” Tari said, tilting her head as she listened to his words. She could tell he was speaking human—she could hear the guttural
consonants, but she could understand him all the same. “I am speaking elvish,” Tari added, more to assure herself as she spoke the lilting words.

“How is this possible?” Tari’s partner asked, furrowing his black eyebrow
s. He was somewhat intimidating and incredibly
massive
compared to the company Tari usually kept. He was perhaps a little taller than Tari—a rarity as humans were usually smaller than even the shortest of elves, like Tari—and he was rather broad.

He stood like a soldier—all angles and straight lines—and although he was alarmingly
big
Tari could see he had not an inch of anything but muscle on his person. He made her feel small and unbearably fragile.

“It would seem that
the ceremony worked,” Tari said, curling her hands into fists to keep herself from backing away or bristling, she was not one to enjoy feeling small. She tore her gaze from the grouchy man and glanced to her cousins.

They were all smiling and greeting their new partners
with sign language as translators approached them, readying them for the official introductions.

A human translator approached Tari and her partner, slowing the closer he drew to them. He stopped all together and hunched his shoulders to his neck when Tari’s partner shot him a withering look.

Tari’s partner sighed and shielded his eyes for a moment with a gauntlet covered hand. “Fantastic,” he said. He muttered more under his breath, but Tari could not quite grasp it before the massive man stood upright. “I am Captain Arion Herycian, eldest son of Fredrick and Angelica Herycian, Captain of the second squad of the northern army,” he said before performing a stiff but faultless bow.

Tari dipped into an elegant, elvish curtsey. “I am Tarinthali Ringali, youngest daughter of Elvaren and Kistwyn of Gloria, a Dancer of the Evening Star.”

“A pleasure—,” Arion cut off, frowning slightly at the difficulty of Tari’s name.

“Please, refer to me as Tari,” Tari smiled. “I believe it will be easier for you to pronounce, Captain Arion?” she said, turning her statement into a question.

Arion nodded curtly. “Very well,” he said, glancing at the watching guests—who were whispering to one another.

Tari could hardly believe the man’s nonchalance. “Are you not… excited at what this
exchange means, Captain Arion?”

Ari
on turned his eyes back to Tari, who was starting to wish she hadn’t spoken. The captain was intimidating, even more so than any of the wizards, enchanters, and members of nobility Tari had met before.

“
Perhaps,” he said, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword. “But mostly I am aware of how exceedingly difficult life will be for us from now on,” he frowned.

The forgotten translator made a squeaking noise and plopped down
on his rear, his eyes wide as he looked back and forth between Tari and Arion. He blurted a string of words. Tari recognized it as human but could not understand it.

“What did he say?” Tari asked as she and Arion turned to face the translator.

“He asked if I speak elvish,” Arion said to Tari before addressing the translator. “I do not.”

The translator grasped his neck and yelled,
calling half a dozen translators, elf and human alike, to his side. He spoke to them in Calnoric, pointing emphatically at Tari and Arion.

Tari looked to Arion, trying to decipher their words by gauging his reaction. He wearily eyed the translators, turning his back to the guests and members of the audience to face them head on.

Tari swallowed thickly, taking a step backwards as the translators surged towards her, pressing in on her like yapping dogs. Tari full out retreated when a human translator reached out to grasp her wrist. She glanced over her shoulder, looking for a friendly face.

Arion
was of no use whatsoever. He rubbed the back of his head with a scowl, mussing his pitch black hair as his mood turned sour. Tari looked past the crowd of yapping translators and spotted Kiva, standing with Princess Claire.

“Kiva!” Tari shouted, dodging a translator before running for her sister, her bell bracelets jingling.

Kiva held out her hand, and Tari reached out to grasp it. Two of the translators tried to follow Tari, but Talon stood in their path. The rest of the translators circled Arion, speaking with great animation as the enchanters and wizards approached them.

The magic users were grave, staring flatly at the translators who
switched back and forth between elvish and human.

Pandemonium broke out in the celebration hall when the translators finally got their message across to the enchanters and wizards.
Everyone was shouting, and several of the more important guests stormed the platform.

Tari and her
relatives shrank back as the humans pressed forward.

Finally, the hall went silent when a human shouted one, thunderous word.

The crowds parted and Crown Prince Benjimir surveyed the platform with the air of royalty.

Standing at his side was Crown Princess Yvrea. The elvish princ
ess glided down the open path, concern pulling at the corners of her mouth. She stopped next to Tari and Kiva and opened her arms. “Cousin,” she said to Tari.

Tari made the motion to sink in a curtsey, but Princess Yvrea stepped forward, protectively embracing Tari like she was a
fretting child.

Tari felt both comforted and slightly embarrassed, although she was not completely surprised. Princess Yvrea had a mothering instinct that overlapped into her actions no matter where she was.
Tari had met and dined with Princess Yvrea enough to know that as the Princess was a great admirer of Seer Ringali, Tari’s teacher, as well as her relative.

Still holding Tari in her arms, Princess Yvrea turned. “Will someone please explain what has happened?”

One of the translators, a human, stumbled forward. “P-p-Princess,” he stammered.

A more assured elf joined him. “
My Crown Princess Yvrea, we are not certain.”

Princess Yvrea nodded as a translator at Crown Prince Benjimir’s elbow whispe
red into his ear. “I see,” the Crown Princess said, releasing Tari to address her, although she placed her hands on Tari’s shoulders. “Are you upset that you were bonded to a male? Captain Arion is Princess Claire’s oldest sibling. I assure you he is honorable and full of dignity, although I must confess I am not sure why they made this rather untraditional pairing.”

Bond pairings were almost always of the same gender. The only exception was when it was unavoidable, as it was with Crown Prince Benjimir and Crown Princess Yvrea who
, as the future rulers of their countries, had to be bound.