Micha laid on the floor of his cell in the lower dungeon of Alfheim, four days having passed since he had been thrown into the dungeon. Something had happened after the blonde next to him had been escorted away, but he had no idea what since he had been in the cell. Had she escaped? That guess was based on the sole fact that she hadn't been returned to her cell, but could easily be wrong as well.
Footsteps walked down the hall, two sets, and Micha sat up curiously as two Immortal Guard approached his cell. They looked tired somehow, and one of them deactivated the door to his cell. Micha stood as he knew was expected of him, and walked from his cell warily.
The guards did not bother to reactivate his cell as they started to lead him above ground, presumably to release him. Micha's eyes flickered to the cell next to his, but it was empty as he thought it was. What had happened with the girl?
Their footsteps echoed on the stone floor and halls, an alien sound to Micha. Elves lived under the canopy of the trees their whole lives and walked on the forest's leaf-strewn floor, or else on floors of woven branches or the occasional wood. Stone structures like this were hard to come across, and the lightvine that wove across the ceiling overhead was different from the normal ones as the leaves rustled overhead as they walked beneath it. There was no way to walk silently under the vine.
The few active cells they passed had Night Hairs in it, and there was not a single lock of blonde hair in sight. Micha expected as much as his escort shooed him up stone steps to the upper level of the dungeon where the "high cells" were. Blondes were the only ones that had the luxury of being in a well-lighted, comfortably warm and dry high cell.
High cells had fernsilk hammocks, desks, and sinks. The inmate could ask for books, or paper and berry-based ink to pass the time. They did not wear restrainer cuffs except under rare circumstances, and if they were worn, the cuffs were broken into two bracelets instead of binding their wrists together to give them greater comfort. Micha's stomach grumbled, reminding him that he hadn't been fed during his four-day stay in the cell. Those in a high cell got regular meals, usually twice a day, and the meals were more than bread and water.
"The girl in the cell next to me got away, did she?" Micha asked his escort with a somewhat smug smile.
One of the Immortal Guard shoved him with a sharp order to, "be quiet."
"So she did escape," Micha chuckled softly, his smile larger now.
"You have no idea," the other Immortal Guard said softly.
The soft, almost timid tone of his voice surprised Micha. Had the girl killed a few guards before she escaped, or had something else happened? Only four days had passed, so he doubted that too much could have changed.
A doorway of light appeared, and Micha squinted as he was escorted back outside. He had no idea how much he had missed the sound of rustling leaves until he heard them again. Micha looked up at the canopy, feeling himself relax as he left the lifeless underground, before he was shoved forward again.
He resumed walking, but glanced up at the canopy again. His eyes brightened to lavender in surprise when he saw the damage wrought to the layer of leaves. Although he didn't know it that damage was a reminder of Merrith's betrayal.
"What happened to the forest?" Micha asked softly as he looked around and saw more damage.
The guards didn't answer and Micha looked back down at his feet so he didn't trip over a root. Something had happened for sure, and the damage to the forest looked very fresh. There was a flash in the corner of the sight from the palace tree, and Micha glanced up to see what it was just as he tripped over a root. He landed on his stomach with an ungraceful oomph.
Getting fed up, one of the Immortal Guard grabbed Micha's collar and hoisted him into the air with one hand as if he were holding a cat by their scruff. Before anything could be said, a crown fell to the ground with a ringing chime in front of the group's feet. The guards froze, and Micha's jaw dropped when he saw it was the Emerald Crown. Everyone stared at it for a few seconds, and when nothing happened the Immortal Guard that was not holding Micha knelt down by it.
"Allain," the Immortal Guard holding Micha said softly. "Why is that here?"
Allain closed his eyes and lowered his head as he reached out with his senses to the forest around him. "The trees say everything is peaceful."
"Are you sure," the Immortal Guard repeated.
"I am the druid here," Allain reminded him.
He held out his hands and the crown levitated to the, hovering just above his cupped fingers. Micha looked up, craning his neck to try and find the source of the crown's fall. There was nothing in sight and he lowered his eyes back to the Emerald Crown.
The guards looked at each other hesitantly, and Allain spoke first. "I will take this to Commander Myrin."
Allain turned and returned to the palace as the other Ljósálfr nodded. Right in the middle of everything with Daris and the sleeper agents, Hallien had misplaced his crown? That was bad timing no matter how you looked at it.
"Hey," Micha offered to the Immortal Guard, making him look down at the burden he held. "Is it all right with ya if I walk?"
The guard dropped him and looked away, still frustrated about recent events. Micha landed on his stomach again. Allain ignored them as he walked back to the palace.
Allain walked swiftly to Myrin's office, hiding the Emerald Crown under his cloak so no one could see he had it. This would be a prime chance for a traitor to ambush him and steal the crown for Daris, and Allain didn't want that to happen. He also hoped to find Myrin before he found Hallien because he didn't want to explain to Hallien how he had come across the crown. That would get him branded a traitor for sure.
As he turned a corner and walked past the door to a storage room someone grabbed him and dragged him inside, a hand over Allain's mouth. The door closed and Allain was released. He whipped around to face his attacker, keeping the Emerald Crown hidden with one hand while drawing his dagger with the other. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough room for him to draw his saber.
When he saw who his attacker was his grip on his dagger faltered and he nearly dropped it while he stared, "Rane?"
Rane smiled at him, "hello Allain."
Allain twisted his lips into a silent snarl and stepped back into a fighting stance, leading with the hand his dagger was in. "You tried to kill my king, and Eragon. Why are you smiling?"
Rane tilted his head at Allain curiously. "I thought you sided with Daris?"
"You have no proof Hallien is Set," Allain took a breath to steady himself. "All you have are half-facts and his blood magic, and considering the Dökkálfr are our cousins I am only so surprised that a Ljósálfr has their blood magic."
"He is," Rane promised. "By the time you realize it Set will already be resurrected at full strength. We can't afford to do that. Do you have any idea what will happen if Set returns now, without any other Elder Gods to bring him down. There's no way we mortals can defeat an immortal."
Allain tssked and looked away without removing his eyes from Rane. It appeared Rane had only been dying his hair blonde because now half of it was black, and it seemed he was in the process of removing the rest of the dye. A night hair, of course the traitor was a night hair.
"Even Merrith agrees with us," Rane coaxed. "He's helping us kill a monster before it is reborn. I agree with you that Hallien has done no wrong as king, but we have to stop Set. It is unfortunate that he has to be killed and Eragon with him, but we don't have a choice. Eragon is Set's son, and Set could use his body."
Rane took a step forward and Allain raised his dagger he had begun to lower with a dangerous look.
"Do not be like that," Rane dismissed. "You are our ally."
"I was," Allain agreed, "before you started trying to kill the royal family to crown Daris."
"You shall not beat me in a fight," Rane warned Allain, "and I know you are hiding the Emerald Crown in your other hand."
Allain didn't react, but Rane knew he was right.
"Maybe not," Allain agreed, "but I will not help you or Daris as I assume he really is alive."
"Just give me the crown Allain," Rane offered and held out one hand. "I have no feud with a loyal citizen of Alfheim, only with Set."
Rane stepped forward and Allain took another step back, foot hitting the wall. He had nowhere to go, lacked the ability to defeat Rane, and couldn't get out of the door with Rane in front of him.
"Please Allain, I implore of you to aid me." Rane pleaded, palming a throwing shard in his other hand.
"You're using this half thought-out excuse to cover your coup to crown Daris," Allain argued and slashed a hand through the air.
Rane sighed to himself when he realized that there was no way for him to recruit Allain. Although Allain had agreed with him, the instant he had learned of Daris's plans to kill the royal family he had abandoned them. Allain had the Emerald Crown though, and he realized that fetching that for Daris along with passing orders to Myrin would make up for his failure to kill Eragon. He needed that crown.
Rane put a hand to his temple, the movement attracting Allain's attention. As the movement distracted him and averted his eyes, Rane threw the shard with his free hand. Allain caught the attack and deflected the shard away with his dagger. He had to bring the blade back in front of him as Rane attacked with speed, striking once more when Allain was looking at something else.
Allain dodged the first few strikes and parried a few more, the edges of their daggers sliding against each other with a shrill note that hurt their sensitive ears. For someone like Allain, a junior member of the Immortal Guard, he was exceedingly skilled. Rane was impressed with him and sad when he slipped past Allain's defense. Not only did Allain have great potential, but he was also a loyal Ljósálfr.
Allain's flower petal blue eyes widened in shock as Rane slipped past his dagger scored a direct hit on his wrist, severing his hand. The hand and dagger landed several feet away, but Alain didn't get a chance to feel the pain before Rane slashed his throat open so deep the blade raked his spin. A painless death was the least that he deserved, and Allain did not get a chance to feel pain before he fell against the wall and slowly slid down it. A trail of blood was left on the wall as he fell to the base and slumped forward, and it started to spread across the floor.
"Sorry Allain," Rane apologized and knelt by his side as the Immortal Guard's heartbeat faded.
The traitor used a touch of blood magic to erase the red stains as he picked up the Emerald Crown in one hand. He sheathed his blade and looked the crown over. It's emerald leaves were smeared in crimson, but Allain's blood was not corrupting it into its negative form where it stole life instead of sustained and protected. Hallien's blood must be the only one that could do that. Odd, but Rane suddenly realized that the negative form of the crown was similar to Fel magic. It must be because Hallien was Set and Set had created Fel.
He put the crown around his arm like an oversized bracelet and dragged Allain's body into the stack of shelves. Rane climbed to the top of the shelves, holding Allain's body with one hand, and lifted him to the top of the shelf. The body now hid behind some jars he jumped back to the floor, wishing he could do a better job of hiding the body but knowing he didn't have the time to do so.
He resettled his glamour around his body, an illusion that made him look like another Immortal Guard so he wouldn't be recognized. First he had to give Myrin his new orders, and after that he would flag down Merrith on standby and head back to the base in Morland. With any luck, Daris would get his crown by lunchtime.
Hallien sat on the surface of the Sunning Stones and watched the river flow. He felt someone approach him, but as he detected no malice he let them approach without shifting position. It was only Myrin.
"You know," Myrin said as he walked up beside Hallien with his hands in his pockets and his saber on his side, "you should not be alone right now my king considering the circumstances. Daris is not here right now, but he has many followers. You could be killed by yourself."
Hallien shrugged, but didn't make any other movements. Myrin watched him, knowing that despite Daris's orders there was no way he could kill Hallien. Even alone like this with his blood magic sealed he was too powerful. Perhaps he would be even more difficult to defeat since there wasn't anyone around so he wouldn't have to restrain himself to keep from accidently harming friend along with foe.
Myrin tried to read him, aware that having Hallien trust him was all the more important now. "No one could have foreseen Daris's betrayal."
Hallien gave a short, harsh laugh and spoke in a slightly raspy voice, "I should have. It's just what I did to him when I killed Anar. He used the same pentagram I did and the fight was in the same courtyard. Only instead of his father being targeted, it was my son. One can almost admire the irony."
"You and Eragon both survived that night," Myrin pointed out.
"We did," Hallien agreed, "but it's my fault. I wonder if I should not have left her behind. She died because I abandoned her just as I knew she would when I left."
"Who are you talking about?" Myrin asked with a curious look.
"Tilaria," Hallien said simply and leaned forward to run his fingers through the surface of the river.
Myrin gave a start and looked at Hallien in surprise. "You are worried about the half-breed that has tried to kill you how many times now?"
"She was the one shattered the pentagram and allowed me to escape to Eragon," Hallien admitted as he leaned forward a little more and idly scooped up a palm full of water.
He watched the water run down his palm and fingers and back into the river. Then he clenched his fingernails into the palm so a few drops of red blossomed on his palm and fell to the river's surface. They painted blooming red flowers as they polluted the clear river before being washed away into wisps.
He released the pressure on his palm and lowered his hand to the stone as the crescent-shaped cuts on his palm from his fingernails healed. "I know that Daris and Anar were never close, and even after Anar was killed he did not act much different than normal. He despised me for the same reason that Daris did, because I was the prince and he was not royal simply because one of our grandparents was born before the other. How did I not see this coming though…? I am a fool."
Myrin hesitated instead of responding, not used to seeing this side of Hallien. Hallien was unique in many regards. He had his blood magic, and one of his closest friends was a night hair despite the fact he was a prince, and he put up with Tilaria, not killing her despite having cause to do so multiple times for Eragon's sake. In so many ways, he was remarkable.
"They are telling the truth," Hallien said quickly and suddenly.
"Huh?" Myrin said stupidly, not having the faintest idea what he was talking about.
Hallien raised the palm he had cut towards Myrin, showing off the blood that remained on it. "I am Set."
For a moment Myrin couldn't breathe, and his heartbeat was so loud in his skull that it blocked all other noise. There was a glimmer of dark crimson light in Hallien's blue eyes, and Myrin suddenly jolted out from the shock and stepped back. He put a hand on his saber, but Hallien did not flinch away from the attack that might have come.
"It's hard to grasp," Hallien said softly and looked back down to the river. "That I'm not me. That I never was me."
He leaned forward and washed the blood from his palm, looking at the stones at the bottom of the river that were perfect for skipping. Slowly, Myrin calmed down, but he did not lower his hand from his saber. This was the perfect chance to carry out Daris's orders and strike at Hallien because Hallien wouldn't take it as a treasonous action. His saber remained sheathed against his will.
"My real name is Set," Hallien repeated. "Hallien is an aliase I used when I made myself into a mortal infant and entrusted myself to the Ljósálfr family. They would raise me, with my powers and memories sealed so I would arouse no suspicions, and when this mortal body is strong enough, I will ascend to an immortal again."
Hallien chuckled and this time Myrin did draw his saber an inch from the scabbard, but no more.
"At least," Hallien sat back on the stones away from the river. "I imagine I would say something like that once my real powers and memory return. Or Set's real powers and memory. Not that I am not Set, but I am also Hallien… ah. I can't even get my name straight. You see why I am confused. If I cannot understand who I am, how could I ever explain it?"
Myrin clicked his saber back into the scabbard but did not remove his hand from the hilt. "Why are you telling me this?"
"I thought I had better tell someone the right story," Hallien shrugged, "before the rumors spread even more uncontrollably. Although I am not sure if I just made things more confusing for you."
He turned his head towards Myrin and gave a wry smile that somehow seemed a little apologetic. Myrin hesitated, and then finally lowered his hand from his saber hilt. Hallien was one of his oldest and dearest friends, but he had just confirmed that he really was Set, Set without all of memories, but still Set. If Set was resurrected then Alfheim and the realms would have no defense against him. He needed to be stopped while his body was still mortal.
"I am sorry," Myrin apologized.
His answer confused Hallien, but Myrin couldn't bring himself to elaborate. He was sorry that he would have to kill Hallien, but if he didn't kill Hallien and he returned to being Set then everything would fall apart. Despite Daris's words, Myrin did not believe Eragon was a threat. Working with Daris was the easiest way for him to kill Hallien, but he would not let Eragon die.
When Myrin didn't elaborate he looked back over the river, and Myrin was surprised to see that Hallien's hand was shaking. He clenched his sleeveless tunic to stop the trembling, and Myrin pretended he hadn't seen it. Was Hallien scared? Hallien should be. When he went back to being Set then he could very well end up killing his family and his home, because Set had no attachments to them. would it be a mercy to kill him then?
"What a day," Hallien said softly and shook his head. "Eragon throws me out of his room and injures me with his wristbow, and now I am actually telling someone about who I really am. If I am me, or Set. Oh this is giving me a headache."
Myrin actually smiled at the scornful tone that underscored Hallien's last sentence. Something about Hallien had been bothering him, and he suddenly realized what it was.
"Hallien," Myrin asked.
"Hmm?" Hallien hummed.
"Where is your crown?" Myrin finished his question.
Hallien gave him a bizarre look and reached up to touch his brow. "What do you mean? It is right… here…"
His hand brushed though his hair instead of his touching the Emerald Crown and he froze for a moment, and then sighed. "Wondrous. I left it in Eragon's room. Considering his temperament when he shot me earlier I should retrieve it before he does something stupid."
"Wait," Myrin suddenly realized what Hallien had said. "Eragon shot you? He shot you?"
"He was in a poor mood after learning about Tilaria," Hallien repeated. "He accused me of murdering her, which I suppose I did."
Hallien stood and straightened his clothing. "Since you wish so badly to have me under escort, why do you not escort me back to the palace so I can retrieve the crown from my son?"
Without the Emerald Crown, Hallien was vulnerable, but not vulnerable enough. Myrin nodded instead and let Hallien lead the way back to the palace. He stopped walking after a few steps, and Myrin looked at him curiously, wondering why Hallien had stopped walking.
Hallien suddenly cringed and lowered his head, and Myrin took a curious step closer. Then he suddenly doubled over coughing, and Myrin stared as Hallien clapped a hand over his mouth, coughing deep and moist. Blood dripped from between his fingers, and Hallien lowered his blood-tainted hand from his lips and stared at the red stain.
"What?" He whispered.
Then he dropped to his hands and knees, coughing again. He spat up a mouthful of blood, dropping onto his elbows. Pain racked his body and made his arms shake. What was going on?
"Hallien!" Myrin called out and knelt by Hallien's side.
One hand went to his dagger, realizing that now was the perfect chance for him to kill Hallien. He hesitated though instead of drawing it, and Hallien stopped shaking. Unexpectedly, Hallien sat up on his knees and looked curiously at the ground.
"The pain's gone," Hallien whispered.
He looked at his bloody hands and then stood, wiping blood from his chin and lips. The pain was gone as if it had never existed, and once he swallowed a few times, he stopped tasting blood.
Myrin removed his hand from his dagger, the chance gone, and gave Hallien a bewildered look. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," Hallien said in surprise. "It is as if I was never in pain. Do not ask what that was either. I have no idea."
He used his magic to erase the blood from his hand, and lowered his palm slowly. Actually, he did have one idea and that idea scared him.
"Come on," Hallien ordered, sounding like a king again. "I should rescue my crown from Eragon."
He started walking, and after hesitation, Myrin followed. What had that been?
I feel sorry for Myrin right now. If he doesn't kill his best friend now to protect Alfheim, then Hallien could kill it when he goes back to being Set. What would you do given the choice, and the frightening possibility of what might happen because Set's personality is nothing like Hallien's. I know the whole concept of Hallien being Set is a little confusing, but it is one of those things you might have to reread.
Does anyone have any ideas over what caused Hallien's sudden attack?