Chapter Twenty-One

Ascalon's "winter" season passed… not that it made much difference since the searing. All it meant was that the few rains and the air were colder than normal. During that time, the people were wary and discontent. For reasons unexplained, the people must have thought that Coran's promises would be realized quickly, despite repeated assertions to the contrary by the Restoration Officers as well as Coran himself.

Despite this initial ill response, the new king remained upbeat. "I know what I'm doing. By the spring, the rest of you will know as well." He would often say. Perhaps it was that seemingly unerring confidence that maintained order among the conclave, and thusly among the people of Ascalon.

That tenuous order remained even as the specter of the guilds of Tyria slowly began to return. Most of them were smaller rosters, likely drawn to the lesser restriction and cheaper costs of the ravaged land of Ascalon. Nonetheless, they started doing as Coran suspected they would, investing and working to improve the lands purchased and/or granted to them, and in proxy, improving the lands and lives of those around them.

Then, as "spring" arrived, the hints of what Coran promised began to arrive, and it seemed to sweep the ill thoughts from the land like a strong, fresh breeze through a stagnant room.

The first tufts of thin, sickly grass began to rise from the seemingly barren surface. It was desert grass, purchased from Canthan traders hired to acquire large bushels of the plant. As such, it wasn't useful for much, but it was grass, something green, something long missing from the land. "And as the waters begin to purify thanks to the algae I had planted at the river and lake mouths, the desert grasses will die out, and the remnants of that can be used as food for the lush greenery that we are much more familiar with." Coran explained. "These grasses absorb the salts and sulfites that the Charr used to sterilize the land and convert them into nitrates… a remarkably hardy and useful plant, I must say."

While Devona, and in fact, much of anyone who listened to his explanations, didn't understand much of the cycles that the king described, they did understand the gist of it. "We have the beginnings of what will become what we remember. This is only the first step, but let this first success be a buoying thought of what is yet to come."

Meanwhile, the waters that Coran often personally measured and analyze were showing great signs of improvement as well. "This algae grows around the coral reefs of the Ring of Fire. They feast on and break down sulfuric impurities very similar to the tar that polluted the waterways. I'd wager within two more years, the water will be drinkable." Coran had also said after one such analysis.

Personally, Devona thought it almost looked well enough to drink as it was. Granted, there was a slight dull grey color to it, but she had seen, and even drank, worse. When she said as much, Coran frowned at her like she was a little girl that had done something naughty. "Well, I suppose in an emergency… you could drink this water... but I wouldn't recommend making a daily practice of it. I can assure you your health would suffer for it."

For Devona, however, she couldn't spend much energy marveling at the slow but steady recovery of her homeland… she was too busy ducking the queries and questions of her engagement, queries that became louder and more frequent as the land recovered, as the "reason" given for holding off on her wedding was inexorably tied into the restoration.

Coran himself had not pressured her, although he would occasionally drop options for her to mull over… but for all intents and purposes, they were at an impasse. Coran would not accept anything that did not lead to their wedding, and Devona flatly rejected anything that would lead to even the possibility of her becoming queen. And since the Lord's Conclave had gotten it into their head that marriage and monarchy needed to be linked, and anything short of that would likely lead to tension between the crown and the nobility that Coran understandably wanted to avoid.

One such… negotiation… had just ended in fact, as Devona left the royal estate, and towards the center square of Rin.

"Most men would have jumped all over the opportunity to have a mistress with no strings attached." Devona grumbled to herself as she glanced over the drills of the new recruits to the Ascalon Army. Yes, she had thrown out such an offer… internally glad that he had found the idea absolutely reprehensible.

She hadn't been entirely serious, but at that point she had been willing to do almost anything to end the occasional back and forth between her and her betrothed. Deep down she knew that such an arrangement would not have ended well… especially if Coran were to have found a more suitable queen at some point down the line. Hell, the jealousy would have probably come to head before the wedding took place at all.

Devona cursed her weakness that didn't seem to allow her to officially break the bonding. She knew it was eventually going to happen… there was no other conclusion in her mind… but at the same time, perhaps she was clinging to the hope that an option they both found suitable would emerge. She didn't even deny it anymore to herself or to those she considered friends. She was in love… and try as she might, falling out of love was proving to be a difficult process.

She had tried… Dwayna save her, had she tried. Cynn had laughed at her about the attempt. The elementalist had even demonstrated why it was a futile process; listing what she felt were Coran's faults, only to listen as Devona vigorous defended such faults as either understandable… or not even faults at all.

When she had been born, her father named her after an old language word, Devonate, which directly translated into the modern Tyrian, Devoted. Who would have thought Mordakai was part seer?

"Devona!" Cynn's voice shouted shrilly, causing the warrior to cringe, then partially turn in the direction of the voice. The elementalist was not even six strides away, closing the remaining distance quickly. "I've been calling you for the past minute." She grumped, "You're lucky I wasn't a Charr or something."

"Had you been a Charr, you would have had my blade in your throat after roaring like that." Devona answered crossly, "I'm of half a mind to do it anyway."

At this point, Cynn had gotten used to Devona's idle threats, brushing it aside with ease. Clearly, the warrior had been thinking about the King, and Cynn had learned not to stick her nose into that mess unless allowed in.

"Anyway… King Coran told me to catch you up, and remind you that we're leaving for Thunderhead Keep tonight, and to make sure you have everything packed you are planning to take along.

Devona sighed. The Tyrian Summit was in five days, held at the seat of the Deldrimor nation, and hosted by King Ironhammer, as it was the most convenient central location between the three kingdoms that would be attending; Ascalon, Deldrimor, and Kryta. Of course, the fact that neither Rin nor Lion's Arch was in all that great of a condition to host much of anything probably played more of a factor.

Devona and her comrades had signed on to the diplomatic mission, due to officially being part of Coran's personal protection detail. Of course, Devona conveniently ignored the fact that the detail did not officially include her… being that she was actually assigned as one of those being protected.

"I didn't need the reminder, but thanks anyway." Devona replied. As it was, she was all packed with room to spare already… anticipating buying a new set of armor from the expert craftsmen of Marhan's Grotto just south of Thunderhead Keep.

Mhenlo appeared in the conversation, his voice interjecting into the moment's silence. "Devona, if I may be so bold to borrow Cynn for a few minutes?"

The warrior waved her hand in silent and welcome permission, as it gave her time to grump to herself once more. Cynn was mildly torn. She had hoped to take the opportunity to lean on Devona once more about the king, but acknowledged there was a discussion long overdue that she had been avoiding for months with the monk.

And it didn't appear like he was going to wait for Cynn to make up her mind either, taking her by the wrist and giving a somewhat forceful tug in the exact opposite direction Devona was stomping off to. Normally, any such attempt to make her do anything would have prompted a violent repraisal… but she was feeling guilty enough about not apologizing for her actions north of the wall months prior to abate her normally vitriolic temper.

"There, now that we're out of earshot…" Mhenlo said, peering over Cynn's shoulder towards the still retreating warrior.

"Mhenlo, I'm…"

"Yes, I know. You're sorry. You've been trying to force it out since the coronation." The monk said dismissively, waving his hands as if pretending to wash his hands of the past issue. "I just need to say this to you before I lose the nerve."

Cynn blinked curiously. While Mhenlo was often quiet, he had never struck her as one who had a hard time saying what was on his mind, at least not recently.

"As for what happened north of the wall, I was unnecessarily over the line as well. You were trying to help, if in a terribly inappropriate way. It wasn't your fault I got jealous of that… at any rate, that's not what I wanted to talk about."

"Okay…"

"Last night, Coran told me that the High Priest of Ascalon was resigning from his post in order to devote his time towards his own pursuit of self purity." The monk began, rubbing his hands nervously. "He offered the position to me."

"That's wonderful!" Cynn shouted in glee, instinctively giving the monk an enthusiastic hug.

"Wonderful, is it?" Mhenlo answered. "My experience in managing has been limited to the year I spent as Acting Priest at Ashford Abbey before the Searing. How could anyone assume I'm even remotely ready for such a position? I'd be the youngest High Priest ever!"

"Mhenlo… you know the divine scriptures inside and out. Your faith cannot possibly be called into question either. I know for a fact that both gods you claim fealty to favor you a great deal. Besides, when is the High Priest stepping down?"

"In two years." Mhenlo answered.

"Well then, Coran's obviously not just throwing you to the wolves now is he? You think you can't learn to do something in two years' time?"

"But… what if…"

Cynn sighed, "You really need to stop worrying about what might happen; most of it is imagined anyway. You will do great given time to learn what you need to do. If not, I'll be sure to be there to slap you silly."

"You always know just what to say, don't you?" Mhenlo queried wryly.

Cynn dropped her hands on his shoulders, and gave him a little shake. "If you believed in yourself as much as I do, only the gods could know just how much you could accomplish. Pride and confidence are not the same thing… feel free to take a healthy share of the latter."

"Sometimes I do miss that distinction it seems."

"Now, if your self-esteem crisis is over, I suppose I should finish up my packing for our trip…"

"While we will be bringing a couple dolyak carriages, do remember there is limited space." Mhenlo said warningly.

"Monk, I went traveling with you three for how long? Let me assure you that I am well versed at traveling light." Then with a teasing wink, she added, "I'll only bring four garment bags… promise."