"Are you certain?" Hallien asked strongly.
"Yes, my king," the female Ljósálfr before Hallien repeated. "It was blood magic that killed Arlen."
"Can you do it?" Hallien repeated his earlier question. "I need to know now if you can Alyndra."
"Now that Arlen is dead it will be difficult to retrieve his memories," Alyndra thought aloud. "His death was also very traumatic, and traces of the Arcane curse Tilaria used will remain. It will contaminate any memories I can retrieve."
"Is that a yes or a no?" Hallien asked his chief healer sharply.
"I can try," Alyndra promised, "but that's all I can promise."
"Do so then," Hallien ordered in a kingly tone.
Alyndra did not surrender her argument however. "Are you sure about this, my lord?"
"I want to know why Arlen went berserk on Asgard," Hallien said darkly, "but he's dead so I can't just ask him. If you can't retrieve the memories from his body then I'll have to go to Niflheim and ask Hel if I can speak to Arlen. I do not fancy my chances of success in that scenario."
"Very well," Alyndra finally surrendered. "It will take time to retrieve the memories and purify them to the point where they can be viewed on a data crystal."
Hallien nodded, and looked over to Arlen's body. He and Alyndra were in a room that functioned as a morgue of sorts for bodies to be examined, and it was one of the only rooms on Alfheim to be covered in stone tiles.
"There is no way she mastered blood magic to the degree needed to kill Arlen on Asgard," Hallien whispered. "She had to have been taught before she went, by someone here."
"Agreed," Alyndra murmured.
That meant there was someone on Alfheim practicing forbidden magic. Hallien had his suspicions, but he kept them to himself as he walked over to Arlen's body. It was covered by a white silk sheet, and he had not yet had a chance to look at it. Alyndra hesitated when Hallien pulled the sheet over Arlen's face back, but did not stop her king's action.
Arlen's eyes were closed, and the first thought that came to Hallien's mind was that Arlen was sleeping. If it wasn't for the bite marks on his throat, and the fact that his skin was such an unnatural shade of white from being drained of his blood, then it might have been possible. Hallien had heard hundreds of times from Arlen how dangerous blood magic was, and now Arlen he been killed by blood magic. The irony was too cruel for Hallien to swallow.
Hallien felt an odd tightness in his chest as he gazed at his friend's body. He his throat seemed scratchy and his eyes stung. Once when they were children, Arlen had used raspberry juice and a spell to cloak his heartbeat and pretended he was dead. It had been to pay Hallien back for something Hallien had done to him, although Hallien couldn't remember what anymore.
What he did remember about that incident was that he had been so furious with his friend that he hadn't spoken with Arlen for an entire week. Arlen had finally made up to him by raiding a bee's nest and bringing him some fresh honeycomb, and Hallien had forgiven him after that as he always seemed to do. The two had been children then, but Hallien wished very dearly that Arlen was simply pretending again.
Alyndra was wary of the sudden and dangerous silence Hallien had fallen into, so she spoke to fill the silence. "The bite marks on his neck are consistent with a wolf, and since his blood has been drained it is safe to say it was blood magic at work. Eyewitness reports say she used her shadow to kill. That is an arch level spell."
Hallien ignored Alyndra, and carefully brushed a lock of Arlen's hair out of his face. No matter what age they were Arlen had always hated having his hair in his eyes, and once he had even cut his long night black hair to a short and messy bob with his dagger. His mother had not been happy with him as Ljósálfr kept their hair long. Dökkálfr were the ones who wore their hair short, and by cutting his hair he had unintentionally made himself look more like a Dökkálfr.
"Sir? Sir…" Alyndra said when she realized that Hallien had spaced out.
Alyndra's voice drew Hallien from the memory, and he asked tiredly. "Yes, what is it?"
"I said you should kill the half-breed." Alyndra said in a tone that indicated she was repeating herself. "You have tried to raise her as a civilized elf as Anastasia wished, and Arlen paid the price."
Hallien did not respond to Alyndra's comment. In life, Arlen's eyes had been an odd people color that ranged from lavender to amethyst-black depending on how good or bad of a mood he was in. Now that he was dead, the unique color of his eyes had been lost. Arlen was not supposed to die, only Tilaria and Asgard's princes. Why had he struck at Tilaria in person?
"I will think on the matter." Hallien promised softly, and took care to pull the silk blanket back over Arlen's face.
"Think on it?" Alyndra's eyes widened when she realized that Hallien hadn't agreed with her. "Sir, she's already killed one of your council, and she tried to kill you a few hours ago. Again! You have to-"
"I have to what, Alyndra?" Hallien snarled as he let some of his anger reveal itself. "Are you giving me orders, healer?"
Alyndra stepped back, realizing that she had pushed Hallien too hard. Despite the fact that Hallien was of royal blood and Arlen a night hair the two had been as close as brothers. His training prevented Hallien from showing his emotions, but it was clear he was in pain from losing Arlen. She wished that he hadn't insisted on seeing Arlen's body, for he might be a bit more stable otherwise.
"No sir," she assured Hallien and lowered her eyes submissively.
"You had best not," Hallien warned with a slight hiss and stalked away from Alyndra and Arlen's body.
He knew that until he got his emotions under control it was dangerous for him to stay so near his people, so he stalked outside and began to walk along the river that ran through the capital. His stalked pace was seen by one of the other Ljósálfr in the city, but Myrin, the Commander of the Ljósálfr's immortal guard, knew it was far too dangerous to get anywhere near his king. Unchallenged, Hallien's route took him downriver to a small tumble of flat grey stones by the riverside.
Hallien stepped onto the stones and sat down on their smooth, sun-warmed surface and laid on his stomach, chin resting on crossed arms like a child. From where he lay, he could look over the edge of the stones and see the clear river. The current was too quick for him to see his reflection, and Hallien supposed that was a good thing. Arlen had dubbed this perch Sunning Stones, and the two of them had spent many a lazy afternoon lounging here as they watched dragonflies dance around the river.
Hallien took the Emerald Crown from his brow and set it beside him. Seeing the crown on the Sunning Stones reminded Hallien of the time Arlen had stolen it. They had been young boys then, and Arlen had noticed how Hallien would look at his father's crown enviously. On a day of rest for the kingdom when even Hallien's father slept, he stole the Emerald Crown from the room and told Hallien to meet him at Sunning Stones.
Hallien had gone, curious as to why he was being summoned. Arlen revealed the theft once he reached the stones, and Hallien had been truly stunned to see Arlen lift the Emerald Crown out of his satchel. He had demanded Arlen to tell him how he'd manage to steal it and then for him to put it back before someone noticed it was gone.
With everyone resting though, no one had noticed the crown was gone. Arlen had managed to talk Hallien into keeping the crown for a few hours, and had unofficially crowned Hallien atop the Sunning Stones. Everything had been going well until the crown had been revealed to be too big. As he was not the true king the crown had not adjusted itself to fit Hallien, so when he had bowed to Arlen the crown had fallen off his head and into the river.
Hallien smiled softly at the memory of the two of them jumping into the river after the crown when the current swept it downstream. There was a waterfall and a nice diving pool ten minutes' walk from the Sunning Stones, and they had been desperate to get the crown before it got swept over the edge.
Hallien had just barely managed to grab the crown before he had fallen over the waterfall. Luckily he had managed to keep ahold of the crown or else it would have been swept even further downriver. The two of them had magically dried themselves off and Hallien had managed to return the crown without anyone being the wiser. It was nothing short of a miracle.
He nudged the Emerald Crown back a little from the river's edge, not eager to repeat that adventure. With a quiet sigh at the sadness those memories brought he lowered his hands into the river caught and then raised them to his lips to take a sip. The river water was cool and sweet, untainted by the capital that it ran through upriver and perfectly safe to drink. Unlike some races, Ljósálfr took care of their home.
The king of Alfheim watched the dragonflies dance across the river's surface and in between a clump of cattails that grew just opposite the Sunning Stones. A shaft of sunlight pierced the canopy overhead, and illuminated motes of pollen that floated in the air. Although it was autumn on the other realms, Alfheim only had the seasons of spring and summer so it went spring, summer, spring, summer in a single year. Alfheim was just entering the second spring of this year. Hallien wished that he was a child again, back when things were simpler.
He sat up on the stones and held out his hand, levitating one of the pebbles out of the water to his palm. It was a good stone for skipping, smooth and almost perfectly round. Arlen and Hallien had long been engaged in a battle to see who could have the most skips, a light humored feud begun over a millennia ago and. Even as adults, they had never dropped the habit of seeing who could get the most skips and last week Arlen had set a new record of twenty-seven skips.
Although he was not in the best position for a throw, Hallien flicked the stone upriver anyway. He counted the skips silently, and with each skip there was a piece of the memory from when his parents had learned Arlen was a night hair.
One… Arlen being lifted off his feet by two Immortal Guard when his glamour had slipped and his true hair color had been revealed.
Two… "Let him go! Let him go this instant!" Hallien shouted at the guards with Arlen. "That is an order from your prince!"
Three… Hallien had been stopped from giving chase after the guards with Arlen by his father's hand on setting itself on his shoulder.
Four… Arlen had been thrown outside of the palace threshold and the gates had closed behind him. He and Arlen had been on opposite sides.
Five… "He has black hair Hallien," his father explained to him softly. "Only those with Dark Elf blood have black hair for we Light Elves have blonde hair."
Six… "I will not have my son fraternizing with a commoner," Hallien's mother had snapped impatiently, "especially a black-haired one with Dark Elf blood!"
Seven… "The only thing Dark Elfin about Arlen is his hair color!" Hallien had shouted back defiantly.
Eight… "That is enough child," his father had warned.
The stone sank after the eight skip, and Hallien was forced to look away from the river. His father, Amras, had not been pleased when he realized his son had befriend a black haired elf for the gene of having black hair came from Dark Elf blood. Amras, ever the conservative, had thought that the black-haired elves should count themselves lucky they were not dead already. After that incident in the palace, his parents had done their best to separate the boys, and Hallien had done his best to make sure it did not work.
Hallien remembered fondly the shock of Alfheim when Hallien had picked his three council members, and the third had been Arlen. Arlen hadn't even had a glamour in place to make his black hair look blonde. Even better was the fact that Hallien had made Arlen his head adviser and second in command.
Arlen had promised him that he would be back on Alfheim before long. Asgard's princes would be dead, and Asgard would be in war. They would have to kill many before Asgard would surrender, but they would eventually have fallen. Instead Arlen was dead and Asgard was secure, and it was because of the halfbreed.
Dökkálfr used the stun setting on their disruptors rarely enough that many people mistakenly believed that they didn't have one, but they did. Tilaria was currently in the dungeons beneath the palace where Hallien had put her, but she was alive. Against his better judgement she was alive, and currently he had no idea what to do with her.
He could kill her for Arlen's murder, but he needed to understand what had happened to make Arlen snap. There was also the fact that she was an arch blood mage to take into consideration. Someone on Alfheim had to have taught her, and she might be able to tell him who. What to do with her?
Hallien glanced down and picked up the Emerald Crown. For the first time since he had been crowned, he wanted to throw it in the river.
It's curious, but Hallien doesn't seem like such a villain anymore. I mean, he still wants to kill the princes and kill uncountable Asgardians in a war from supremacy, but he does have his reasons.
