Chapter 14: Kingdom Divided
"The Prince must wake soon, or the Dark Elf will dominate!"
Final Fantasy I
The sunlight lowered, leaving the peaceful elven forests darker and more intimidating. By the flickering of the fire, the four men sat, three nervously fingering their orbs, looking at the remains of their fresh fish meal. Klad looked into the thing, spherical, black as coal. Reflected back was his face, and the beard he was growing. He had not shaved for many days now, and looked far older than he felt.
It had always been like that for him.
Always, he had put pressure on himself to be the best, the most skilled swordsman, the fastest runner, and the most honored of the Conerian Guard. But with that pressure came more and more responsibility, to leave the life of being an ordinary youth behind for the life of knight. And now, looking back at his short life, there were parts of memories that seemed straight from the old legends, and others parts which were too extraordinary to comprehend.
His thoughts turned to his dreams, the recurring nightmare that plagued his mind and sleep every day. The only thing he feared to encounter. Tiamat, the Fiend of Wind, who made abrupt visits to his sleep, showing him a perspective of the world: ruined because of the Light Warriors.
With this horror, all three of the Fiend of Air's heads turned to him, each eye a crimson orb staring into his soul, asking for his vow to join in conquering this world...
"Only a nightmare," he whispered to himself. The black mage looked at him, darkness hiding all but his yellow eyes, but said nothing.
Jakk pulled the Lute Sara had given him and played a jolly song, his fingers moving quickly up and down the holes of the wooden instrument, its tune striking a quick but oddly sober beat inside Klad's head.
He stopped suddenly, looking at the fish Bane and Tanka had skillfully caught for their dinner.
"I used to play tunes to earn a supper," Jakk said, eyes empty as he stared into the flames. "It seems I still earn my suppers this way," he laughed, holding the lute by the fire, and then putting it back into his pocket. A memory of Sara, wherever she was.
"Dead man's dance," Tanka said in a rumbling voice. "That is the name of the tune. Sailors play it too."
Bane spit out a fish bone as he ate.
"Why play a distressing song now, thief?"
Jakk did not respond, but Klad smiled as he caught the man's mutterings.
"Because being a Light Warrior means you're a dead man."
The youth looked at the fish bones scattered on the ground, giving a content sigh.
"Bane, do you have any idea where we are?"
The mage looked up thoughtfully. "I believe we are northwest, on the outskirts of the Kingdom. Maybe not, however. Though some elvish blood I may possess, I am human also, and never have I been to here, though I know of its language and customs."
The man, if he was a man, Jakk thought, stood, grabbed a fallen stick, fallen fresh from a giant tree, and drew a rough sketch of the continent they were on. He pointed somewhere in the top left of the stretch of fish-like continent, with a head of the hammer and angular body, complete with a tail.
"I believe we are here, between the edges of the Silver Mountains and Tacylan Forest. To the west," the mage pointed west, to the snow capped peaks, "there lies the wilder parts of Elfland. To the east, the Plain of Merado, and beyond that, impenetrable peaks and rivers that lead to the village of Crescent Lake." He eyed his attentive audience. "For where Luhkan is, and where he meant for us to go when we were done here. That, however, does not seem possible, for now."
He pointed to his crude map, to the south.
"The city of Danlanni lies slightly southeast of us. It is here we must go."
"Danlanni?" Jakk said. "What kind of name is that. It sounds like the fish's name I just had for dinner."
Bane's eyes twinkled. "That was Tarannyla, Jakk. Many of the things that come from the sea end or begin with the word anni, from the goddess Friend who created them. Anni means sea, and Danl, continent, in the ancient speech."
Bane cocked his head to the horizon where the sun was setting in the east.
"And this indeed the sea continent, for many leagues of shore touch it, when Danador was broken, and much of this land is covered in green rivers and white peaks."
Klad shifted from the tree stump he sat. Ever since they approached Elfland, the friendlier the mysterious man, elf, whatever he was, became. Why?
And that name. Bane. He never had told Jakk or Aki about that particular name. He knew its meaning in the ancient speech from his tutelage by Luhkan and the other sages of Coneria, and wondered why someone would name himself, what roughly translated as, The Last. The Last? What does that mean?
"Taro suna sen astasted?"
Three pairs of eyes whirled on the young knight, as he haltingly spoke those words.
"How do you know Elvish, Klad?" Bane's eyes, narrowed to slits, never matched that calm voice.
"Before I went to on this quest, I was the secretary and errand-runner for Lukhan. Call it a lowly position for the King's Guards," Klad explained, looking at the surprise from Jakk and Tanka. Clearly they expected a Lord of House Haasions to have a more important job," but I am young and leading a company of knights are for the experienced."
However he said those words, Jakk thought, he clearly means he was experienced. Klad continued.
"The lore-master chose me because of my extensive knowledge in the Prophecies, history, and other languages."
Bane bowed his head. "Then you are indeed something of a renaissance man, Ryar of House Haasions. Tamkil unsano." Omniscient Soul.
"You never answered my question though, Bane. How old are you?"
Aki paced the village of Famul, accompanied by Sara. Whatever she had just heard Ellya, she scarcely believed half of it. Elfland, in civil war? Madness!
Though the streets were unpaved, the village that was overlooked by the grim battlements and towers of Lord Emien Taylas—another surprise—were clean and settled, as vendors displayed their wares and sold snacks and fresh fruits. Men and women, in multicolored, bright shirts, skirts, dresses, and trousers, contrasted the plain white and red cloth of Aki's though Sara's light yellow summer dress fit in more with the populace. It if not for the ominous battlements and grim men that loomed over the village on the dark castle grounds, it would not have seemed that Elfland was tearing itself apart.
It had been days now since the incident aboard the Everlasting, and only hours before the two girls were well rested enough to journey out of the cottage and into Famul. And they had just learned about the chaos in Elfland.
Though she was a Princess, Sara had obviously caroused busy streets before, as Aki noticed Sara looking at the goods of merchants and looking wary of any suspicious passerbys.
"How could the Elves kill their own people, like these?" she asked, in a low murmur.
"These are not Elves, but humans like Lord Taylas. And Elles obviously is crazed with power to kill these people."
The white mage sidestepped a street magician, who produced a boutique of exquisite flowers for Sara, bowing elaborately with his top hat off as Sara took the flowers, that everlasting smile on her face.
Aki's white mage cloak received some attention, though all of them were polite nods of respect. Humans here on the Elvish continent learned to accept magic long ago because of the Elves' own magical abilities, and they were less discriminating than other humans.
It was Ellya who had told them what was going on. Prince Ellya, brother of Prince Elles, on the throne of Elfland. Emien Taylas was still too enraged to find words for the Elvish betrayal and slaughter, for he was the First Lord, the man who governed the manors, towns, and villages on the outskirts of the Great Forest, on the Plain of Merado. Most of the townspeople and farmers were human or half elvish, who lived in peace with their almost immortal, pointy eared neighbors.
Until, Ellya had said, his brother had gone mad.
Some said Taylas had become a threat to the Elder of Ellya, and others said it was the uncertainy of the world, and the comings of the Fiends that had led Elles to launch attacks on the peaceful villages. But others had wondered if it was the Light Warriors, those who would be the harbingers of the coming of the need to unite, with men, dwarves, and dragons, now all of them so despised in Elfland, that prompted the Prince to show that Elfland could keep its own in a war, Fiends or otherwise.
That was why Aki had her orb in a pocket, and she had told the Prince and Lord that she was a simple traveler from Coneria, a white mage. They accepted her answer, and Sara's, who had told them she was a merchant, and that her ship was the Everlasting. And now, Elles was starting to burn and crush the humans in the east, while burrowing out the imp bands and wolf packs in the west.
But a minority of Elves had slipped away from the war, led by Ellya, to fight for the humans, who had chosen Taylas to lead them.
Thus, a kingdom of elves and men, was divided. All, it seemed to Aki, because of rumors.
She could not stop the chill in her spine. A harbinger of things to come, a taste of chaos the Alatari would bring if the Betar could not unite the creations of the Tari under one banner.
But the Light Warriors would first have to be together if they wished to help. And Aki would have to find the rest of them.
They reached the Prancing Pony Stables, where Taylas had put Daila and Rose after all horses were found in the Everlasting alive—but unnerved by the water.
Now the two mares, Daila, delicate and beautiful, white with brown spots, and Rose, her brownish red mane shining in the sun, looked happy and content, both well fed and rested. Sara, like a child, gave her flowers to Daila, to smell perhaps, Aki thought, though she should know better. She quickly learned the horse liked flowers as much as apples.
Sara laughed, then opened the gate and strapped on the saddle, like Aki did. The mage smiled too, and then looked over to the three other horses she knew: Strider, Basyi, and Darter, the horses of Klad, Jakk, and Bane.
We'll find your riders, she thought, softly, giving Strider a pat on the nose.
"Should we tell Ellya then?" Sara asked.
Aki nodded. "Though he is kind hearted, I don't think even an Elf lord would be tender enough if we disappeared so suddenly."
"And Emi?" She referred to what the Elves fondly called the First Lord.
"I think he is in a scouting party now, in the western forests."
Sara nodded, her summer riding dress dividing neatly as she gracefully climbed her horse. Aki followed, thankful her mage cloak was suitable for riding.
On horseback ,the gentle gallop to the cottage where Ellya stayed because of the dampness of Taylas' fortress took only a few minutes time after they had bought provisions for their journey.
The cheery, dark haired elf was rubbing his bowstring with beeswax, the bow taller than he, as he noticed their arrival. A grin split his innocent face, as tufts of hair not caught by the topknot blew everywhere, shielding his ancient gaze from their eyes.
"Ah, the two sleepyheads! How does the day go; for the mage and the merchant?"
"Fine as any, Lord Ellya," Aki said lamely.
The Elvish lord made her feel childish and awkward with the ancient wisdom washing over them, though he tried to hide it. Ellya gave off that feeling of power in an ancient soul, hidden carefully under that cheeriness.
They dismounted, bowing low.
"Lord Taylas and your hospitality have been gratefully accepted by the crew of our ship and by ourselves, and no words of this gratitude can be said or done for what you have done," Sara eloquently stated.
Aki tried hard not to smile and look at her friend. Being friends with a Princess had a usefulness at times.
"But, my lord, we must depart to search of our friends. We leave in haste," Aki continued, sighing in relief. She had said it all, and now, hopefully, they could leave.
Ellya frowned. He sat quietly on the flat stone, and then looked up to them.
"Sara, you've been eyeing my bow with interest. Would you like a shot?"
The Princess looked startled, but nodded. "My father took me hunting when I was young. I've learned how to shoot, though not well."
She took the bow and yellow feathered arrow, long but exceptionally light, and gracefully notched it, pulling the string with ever increasing amounts of pressure as she aimed at the small red circle in the middle of the wooden target, painted a shade of different colors in circles.
The fresh blast of air resulting in the release rushed through Sara's ears, making her hair fly around, as the arrow, with a solid thunk, hit the circle, two hundred paces from her. Sara grinned.
Ellya clapped his hands. "Good, very good!" He held five arrows, one the twin of the shaft Sara had just shot, the other four green feathered, shorter and heavier than the other. "Now let me show you me skills," he said with modesty.
He took the bow, notching one green feathered arrow into it without force, breathed a sigh, and then looked at the target. With a blur of speed, he aim, shot, and took another green feathered arrow, aimed and shot, repeating with all five arrows, saving the yellow one for last.
The first four hit the outside corners of the target, each on the four directions, forming perfect compass markers.
North.
South.
East.
West.
The last yellow feathered arrow hit the center of the target, splitting Sara's arrow with a loud crack.
Ellya smiled at the astonished faces.
"That is called a five point troll shot," he said. "I have spent fifty years perfecting it." He pulled out another green arrow out. "Four heavy arrows for each of the troll's most vulnerable areas: head, arms, and stomach." He pointed to the arrowhead, the sharp, vicious point enough to pierce armor or the hard skin of a troll. "And a fifth arrow, light but long, to pierce the heart in the middle of the beast." With a seriousness tone that never reached his face, Ellya turned around to them.
"If you go search for them, you will meet these monsters. Along with plenty of another dark spawn. Can you fight them off?"
Aki shook her head. "But they are our friends. They must be found, they must be alive!"
Gently, the elf smiled. "And they will be, mage Aki. We'll not abandon them. Captain Haust told us of your situation before you both were awake. We have sent scouts, my most trusted brethren, to search the shores and forests."
The white mage bowed as Sara curtsied humbly. "Then we thank you again, Lord Ellya."
"You honor me too greatly! I am an outcast, with a death warrant in my own kingdom." He smiled thoughtfully of this.
The sound of hooves reach their ears before they could say anymore. From the west, the scouting party, men and elves on large warhorses, came in, bear emblem on a gray banner marking Taylas' return. But the man was not on a horse. From the back, a litter, supported by two slowly moving horses, came forward.
An elvish horseman, bow slung on his back, neared the three, looking worriedly at Ellya.
"Selan, ae Taylas."
"Tara wa?"
"Celeath."
Ellya raced towards the litter, followed by Sara and Aki.
"He has been wounded?"
"Yes, seriously." He looked at Aki. "He may require your help."
"I'm ready."
Four men gingerly carried their lord into the cottage. Aki swallowed his gasp and averted her eyes at the sight of the broken man, while Sara's sharp intake of breathe showed how gruesome the wounds were.
A voice, half sounding like her father's and the other half sounding like her own, delicately reminded her that she was a white mage. Blood may be a bane to the eye, but it shows only death to the man who is losing it. Another of her father's saying. She looked.
The placid expression on the First Lord's face was gone, replaced by an intense pain as he was carried unconscious into the house. A side of his face was raw and bloodied, skin hanging ragged under the golden hair. His gauntlets gripped his broadsword tightly.
They laid him down on the cot that Aki had first laid in, the one where Emien Taylas had first greeted her. Now it was time to greet him. Ellya moved back and nodded to her.
"Emi? Can you hear men?"
Managing a weak groan which Aki took as a yes, she gently brushed his hair away from the wound on his head, only to find another one, an arrow shaft hastily broken and protruding out of his shoulder.
"Ellya? Do you have any herbs to relieve his pain?"
"Here." He handed her white, heavy bay leaves, their color a milky substance like cow's milk. She smoothed them with her hand, and then applied it firmly onto the side of his head. The man winced, releasing the grip of the sword so an attendant could take it away. Wounded men were just as dangerous with a blade as whole men.
Now it will be easier for me to work. The shaft first.
Calmly, she spoke, to relieve the tension in the room.
"What happened?" she asked, as she inspected the arrow and felt his breathing. Rapid.
One of the men spoke angrily.
"Ambushed, healer. Elves of Elles rushed out of the trees, arrows already whining. Our lord was one of the first to be hit. He told us to pull back, but an elven blade came at the side of his face. Hence the other wound." The man took a deep breathe before continuing.
"Our lord is a noble man, and though we are at war with the kalchem, our elvish brothers, he ordered our men to fight to wound, not to kill."
"Indeed." Aki strained to calm her face. Men being noble; it half made her sick. Being noble in war was another way of inviting death.
Shafts of light came from the palm of her hands. The first step of removing a foreign object from a body. The blood, freely pouring from the shoulder wound, abruptly stopped. A tendril of light reached for the broken arrow, like an octopus' tentacle. Human hands were too tough for removing an arrow, but her Tari gifted hands could remove something without touching it. The arrow came free slowly, the thin strand of light wrapped around it, as the arrowhead, as it was removed, dripped blood. Emi hardly groaned.
Now for the face, she thought. The leaves she removed; it was already sticky with blood. The mage knew she could not heal the damage to the skin; no, she could not make a man look normal again. She could only heal and stop physical pain. Watching the man's shallow breathing, she timed her magic at the right moment. As he took an inhale of air, she released an orb of glowing light from her hand.
...a light to wash him, a light to cool him, a light to burn him, a light to heal...
The orb entered the side of his face, and she knew he would feel a cool, tingling sensation before it would disappear, along with the pain. His breathing became normal, as the bleeding stopped and dead skin dryly curled. His wound began to slowly heal.
For a moment, Aki had difficulty standing up—spots appeared before her eyes—but she force herself to stand, even though all that magic hand sapped her strength. She smiled at Sara and Ellya, before her fatigued body could not stand any longer. Her eyes rolled back and she collapsed into unconsciousness.
Author's Note: Yep, Prancing Pony is the name of the inn in Lord of the Rings, and Strider the horse is back again. I'd just like to point that those names were just inserted in here because LOTR was one of the first fantasy novels and I really like it.