Chapter 19
It had been 6 hours since she left the cathedral behind so when Moira emerged from Elden wood to view the sun's rays dotting the open landscape, she breathed a sigh of relief, knowing the worst was behind her. She heard a crackling, like from a bonfire, behind her and her cargo moaned slightly. She turned to greet him and the smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils.
"GREAT FAERIE!" she cursed, dropping the reins to the mule and scrambling to the back of the wagon to cover Remy with blankets. "The sun… Blast it Moira! How could ye have forgotten that? Especially when ye were just relieved the other vampire would be deterred." she muttered as she returned to her seat, out of breath. "Oh, bloody hell!" she sighed, immediately repenting for her language and using Tania's name in vain.
She observed the scene around her, no longer surrounded by the shadows of a seemingly malicious forest, but she was out in the open air, surrounded by nothing but green grass and wild meadow flowers. The sky was clear blue with the Nymon Mountains creating a majestic sight, their snow caps kissing the heavens.
Slowly, nature began to awaken around them, birds singing and various creatures peeking out of their burrows at the passing wagon. A gentle breeze fluttered through, running its fingers through the foliage and whispering around her. Peace settled on the Blessed Mother and she began to hum as they continued their journey to the city of Nymon.
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Nathan shook debris out of his worn brown leather boots before putting them on, feeling quite refreshed from his dip in the river. It had been cold from nightfall, but the air outside was warm enough to make it tolerable. The seasons were changing rapidly, airy Spring giving way to the arid Summer. And any moment he was going to be able cross the river, bidding farewell to the flonquing Elden forest and finally walk on open terrain, where nothing could lurk in the shadows.
He shielded his eyes from the sun and studied the pace of the Passage River's surface currents. The water was too deep to for the horses to cross by foot and the armor they all wore eliminated swimming. Curiously, there was no bridge in sight yet he couldn't help feeling Ororo had known that. Skipping a rock across the river's muddy surface, he wondered what Ororo had up her sleeve.
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Ororo scanned the blue, cloudless sky, searching for answers to unasked questions. Her hands absently rubbed her throat, trying to massage away unseen marks while her other hand rested on the side of her horse. She felt in her heart that Remy needed her, the feeling amplified by her disturbing dream from last night.
She was back in Elden Palace, pacing the gardens, waiting for her love. Her silver hair was flying loosely around her, a lovely contrast against her bronzed sienna skin and silk lilac night gown. He promised to meet her here, next to the statue of the dragon. The ancient guardian of Elden. The sun has long set, eliminating the only thing obstacle keeping them apart.
There is a scuffle behind her, catching her attention. "Remy?" she whispers. No, it was the man from the River last night. Now, in her dream, she distinctly knows a difference. This man is several inches taller with skin so pale it is white as her hair; he still maintains that air of boredom and apathy, yet, she senses hatred seething under the surface.
The man disappears into the palace, alarming Ororo of the safety of her subjects inside. She runs to follow him, abandoning her personal obligation. As long as she is Queen, she will not put herself before her people.
Ororo doesn't know how she knows he is in the War Room, behind the waterfall. But so is the mystery of dreams, she is drawn there. As she parts the waters, a mist rolls out of the dark passage, illuminated by light coming from the room on the other end.
No sooner does she set foot on the path, her attire immediately changes to her purple tunic and riding pants, clothing she is wearing on her journey to Nymon, yet her she remains unarmored. Considering the nature of her dream, she is apprehensive of the partial battle dress. Her hand falls to her side; her sword is at least present so she continues.
As she makes her way along the walls to the room, she hears voices, voices she has never heard before; she is unable to identify the gender of the ghosts whispering malicious slanders at her.
One voice whispers in her ear, "Selfish child! Abandon this quest, fool! You will lead the world to its death!" while another torments, "Never, in a thousand years, will a vampire be accepted in the court of elves. He is a murderer! A traitor! A devil! He will devour your soul!"
Even as she reaches the fog filled room, the voices continue their hate filled taunts, making her weary and irate. This is her dream and she does not wish to be berated any longer! "Enough!" she hisses, summoning a wind to part the fog in her path, dispersing the voices.
Before her, Ororo sees Remy on the floor, hunched over as if he were crying. "Why is he in here?" She thinks.
She walks carefully and rests and hand on his shoulder to comfort him, "Remy…"
He turns, his black irises searching her and downtrodden says, "Ororo, please. I don' wan' hear how much y' hate me."
"I don't hate you." She is taken aback, hurt even, by his words and drops down behind him, wrapping her arms around his body, wresting her chin on his shoulder, "I owe you my life. No matter your past, dear friend, it will not change the fact that I lo--" her words are cut off as cold, steel fingers wrap around her throat, pulling her from Remy. Instinctively she withdraws her sword and slashes at her oppressor. It is the other vampire.
The sword goes through the man but does no damage. She looks into his eyes and immediately notices that unlike Remy's, there is no life in them, just burning red orbs with no soul. He smiles at her, crushes her throat violently, and she wakes up.
"My queen…?" Jean touched her shoulder, causing the dark elf to jump. "I'm sorry but it is time to depart."
"Yes." She grimaced, her mind attempting to focus on her task.
She had wanted to avoid main thoroughfares, finding it the best way to avert a surprise attack from highway men while allowing them to remain out of Nur's reach. It was originally planned that Jean would provide their means across the River using her magic to form a solid bridge over the water however after the past days events, Jean found herself too weak to summon her magic beyond a whisper. She assured Ororo that she would recover over time, the battle against the King of Shadows having weakened her temporarily, but they did not have the time to spare.
Now, Ororo had to attempt to summon a focused wind to block the river long enough to allow them all to pass.
Nathan mounted his horse, greeting her, "My lady, how do you propose we cross? The water is deep and the currents strong, I fear wading is not an option." He could feel the apprehension pouring off of her and her thoughts were full of prayers to The Great Faerie, Tania.
She tilted her head, shielding her eyes from the sun, to address him. "Do not worry, my king. I have taken it upon myself to provide you and your men safe passage."
By the look on his face, she knew he had no idea how she would accomplish this. Truth be told, she didn't know either. In the past, she had surprised herself by conjuring cyclones and forceful winds. Never before had she needed to provide a concentrated, fine controlled, force of air like this. "My lord, I am venturing slightly upstream to try and stay the river long enough for you and the team to pass."
He looked at her doubtfully, her fear still lingering strongly in the air. "You do not feel confident, my queen. Are you capable…"
She smiled, tying her hair back. "I won't know until I try. Please, lead my horse with you." She tossed the leather reins up over his lap, the white horse snorted but complied, taking its place next to his steed.
"And what of you?"
She thought for a moment, realizing she hadn't thought that far, "I am not sure. I trust the Bright Lady with my safety."
Without another word, she walked off, heading upriver.
Jean rode up next to King Dayspring. "I know she is brash and confusing, my lord but under that hard shell… Ororo is a magnificent woman. If there is one thing I've learned, fear and challenge fuel her drive to succeed."
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Meters upstream, Ororo studied its flow and the flow of the air around her from ankle deep water. There was s subtle breeze blowing, providing her hope that it would carry her words to Tania. She felt she would not be able to do this without the aid of the Great Faerie. Breathing in deeply, she dropped to her knees and sent her plea to her goddess. "Tania… guide your child in this task… just as you design the fates guiding our paths… guide my hand…"
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Over the next several minutes, every member of the parties' eyes rested on the Queen of Elves, kneeling in prayer in the shallows of the Passage River. Some strands of her white hair escaped their place tied behind her head, spilling into the water. Her lips moved rapidly, words in Elvish spilled off of her tongue, blending invocation and commands to the spirit of the earth. A strong breeze gusted through her hair, died down, and then returned more forceful. The once clear blue sky darkened to a muddy gray, now full of menacing clouds. Magic was bleeding into the air, waking the earth.
Hank looked down and noticed goose bumps causing the hair on his arms to stand on end. The air was eerily calm around him and the others, even though he could clearly see the forming tempest around Ororo. The only two that appeared unaffected was the fire haired elf and the queen's horse. The creature was placid as a foal in Dayspring's hands, despite the other horses clearly being agitated.
He looked at King Dayspring who gave him a side glance, having not only noticed the same changes around them, but to his head as well. The energy in the air was affecting him- amplifying his magic, allowing everyone's thoughts to spill into his mind. His men thought this was insane yet held their tongues, but Dayspring, for once, knew that Ororo was very much in control, despite her admission of unease.
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Sweat poured off of the dark elf, drenching her, as she concentrated, begging for Tania's benevolence with manic passion. Unseen by the others, a white mist crept over her eyes, hiding the crystal blue irises, clouding them with power.
The wind picked up in a roar, trees bending and creaking under the strain, ripping leaves from their lofty branches. Her whispers changed to forceful chants through clenched teeth, the winds sending her words to the heavens, still on her knees, hands shaking while clenched together in prayer. The tie that restrained her hair blew free, carried off by the straining wind.
A streak of lightning rushed from the opposite bank to the sky.
"Prepare yourselves, gentlemen…" Jean whispered, herself pleading to the Great Faerie privately.
"Oh my stars and garters…" Hank murmured as Ororo thrust her hand into the water and an invisible force simultaneously smashed into the river, shaking the earth and sending water spraying everywhere. Immediately, the water before them receded. To the left of Ororo stood a 12 meter high and rising wall of murky water, pinned behind the hand of Mother Nature.
The horses were fighting to bolt across the river bed, fear flooding their senses from the force of nature. "Hurry! She will not be able to keep this up much longer." Jean dug her heels into her horse, charging across the muddy, rock littered river bed. The men followed in her footsteps, hearts pounding with fear and minds in awe of the sight of the elf queen's power.
Over his shoulder, Nathan stared at Ororo as his horse pushed to the other side, the white Andalusian straining to pull ahead. Despite the incredible strain on her, the dark elf appeared to be smiling as she floated across the river bed, slowly following behind them on the currents of the wind.
Ororo's body was shaking uncontrollably and bringing a hand up to her face, she realized her nose was bleeding from the exertion. Still, she couldn't help but revel in the use of her magic.
The party reached the banks safely, and apprehensively waited for Ororo to cross. The wind was fading and the water was spilling around the barrier she had created, filling the river bed once more and she was little more than half way across when the wind gave out below her, forcing her to cross by foot. Wading through ankle deep water, Ororo fell, exhaustion overwhelming her. She cursed herself, stumbling to her knees into the water, angry that her body was not responding.
"Jean… she's not going to make it…" Dayspring declared, fear in his voice.
"My queen..." Jean willed her thoughts to her friend, encouraging her to continue, fearful for the struggling woman.
"No offense, but she needs more than comfort, my lady!" Nathan threw the reins of Ororo's horse to Benjamin before forcing his horse into the impending flow of the progressing river at full gait. He'd be damned if he lost Ororo under his watch, not like this.
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Ororo could faintly hear Jean, beckoning to her but she couldn't respond. Her body was useless! Panic set in as she splashed around, crawling hands and knees to the other side, the rusty taste of blood in her mouth. She tried to summon her magic, only receiving a weak breeze in response.
The elf glanced up to see King Dayspring approaching, determination in his face. The rumble of the water overflowing the weakening barrier grabbed her attention for just a second and she found herself snatched off the ground by her belt as Dayspring pulled her onto his horse in one fluid movement, all the while steering the frenzied animal back to the shore.
"Are you alright?" he shouted over the noise of the water and the horse's labored breathing. Blood was all over her face and the blue in her eyes had completely disappeared yet she remained conscious.
"I'm so very sorry, my king! It is coming apart!" she gasped as the water began to flood faster behind them. She pressed her face to his chest in fear, his armor cool against her blazing cheeks.
"My lord! Behind you!" Jean whispered in his mind, turning Dayspring's attention to the restrained water. It had completely broken free, millions of gallons of waters gushing forward in an avalanche.
"Bright Lady!" he shouted, pulling the horse to the side, attempting to cut a diagonal path and outrun the wave to the banks. The black horse ran downriver in the inches deep water, hoofs pounding on the rocky bed, muscles straining for its life and its master's; the water roared hungrily, coming in closer. Dayspring held Ororo against him for dear life and jerked the reins to his left causing the animal to close the distance and leap onto the bank of the river, the rushing waters drenching its tail as they crashed back in place, cheated.
His comrades galloped to his side, startling his already unnerved horse, sending it rearing. "Easy… easy…" he managed through gasps of breath, even though he knew exactly how it felt, and dismounted, pulling Ororo down to the grass with him.
"Are you ok, my lord? My lady?" Jean and Hank asked simultaneously, causing them to give each other surprised glances. The rest of the soldiers observed silently, though obviously amazed at what had taken place. Everyone was on taught nerves, having almost witnessed the deaths of two monarchs.
"I'm fine. I think she's fine. Just a bloody nose..." Dayspring put a hand to her forehead. "She's burning up though. Can someone hand me a blanket?"
The dark queen shuddered from adrenaline and over-exertion. She shook her head, "It'll p-pass. Th-thank you… N-n-nathan…" She managed through chattering teeth, still amazed at what had happened. He had risked his life for her.
He pulled out a rag from his saddle bag and handed it to her for her bleeding nose. He collapsed on the ground beside the snow haired elf, absorbing the warmth from the sun and allowed his heart to calm down and catch his breath. He shook his head in amazement at the river.
"That was…wow. I swear, Ororo… you're going to get yourself killed before we reach Nymon pulling stunts like that." He muttered to her, patting her back. She smiled weakly from behind the blood soaked cloth, head swimming as her body righted itself.
"Does she do this often?" he asked Jean, running his fingers through his sweat soaked silver hair. So much for his bath earlier- at least he didn't need a new pair of pants he scoffed to himself.
Jean laughed, having caught the thought. "If I told you how often, you wouldn't believe me."
"I doubt that." He groaned, pulling himself off the ground. "Can you stand on your own, my lady?" Knowing how stubborn she was, he didn't want to offend her pride anymore than he had on the trip thus far.
"I think so." She got on her knees and slowly, like a baby walking for the first time, steadied herself and rose to her feet on her own. Carefully testing her legs, she went to the edge of the now peaceful river and washed her face and hands. Satisfied, she hobbled back, offering him his rinsed off kerchief.
Half smiling, half grimacing he told her to keep it.
"Thanks. I guess." She looked at it, suddenly feeling embarrassed having handed him the disgusting thing and wrung it out before tucking it in her saddlebag to discard later. She tried to mount her horse, her leg not wanting to extend high enough to lodge in the stirrup. Sighing, she used her arm to stretch it upwards and then pulled herself up, only to have her arms give out halfway up. The horse started walking with her holding onto the saddle, one leg caught in the stirrup the other hopping feebly along to keep from getting dragged. "Help?" she asked weakly, mortified at her predicament and being thoroughly helpless to the animal.
"This appears to be a recurring pattern." Nathan said, hiding his amusement for her sake, and wrapped his hands around her hips, boosting her up on the horse, as if she were no heavier than a child's doll.
She blew a white strand of hair out of her face and turned to thank the king for his assistance. "You can laugh. It is quite funny." She smiled, finally able to appreciate a joke at her expense, knowing there was no malice behind it. "Someone risking their life for you does alter your outlook of their person significantly," she mused, her thoughts resting once more on Remy.
Situating herself in her saddle she addressed her comrades, "I still feel well enough to travel. Dayspring?"
"No complaints." He pulled himself into the saddle of his horse and stretched his arms before taking the reins.
"Then we ride. Nymon is just hours away." Her body weary but her spirit content, Ororo Munroe, Queen of Elves, inhaled deeply Mother Earth's scent and silently thanked her goddess before prodding her horse forward, leading the way to the Nymph city.
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Nathaniel Sinister Essex took refuge from the sun in the Muir Cathedral. Thanks to Remy, he nearly burnt alive out in the sun. The blasted man had summoned him through his dream, something Essex had only heard of sires doing to heralds but never the other way around. Remy was proving to have more and more surprises over time.
In the darkness, he now lay stretched out on the altar to the Great Faerie, staring at her golden effigy above his head- Tania appeared to be floating, her arms outstretched, golden hair spilling past her ankles and very much in the nude. He carefully pondered what pawns she had in this war.
Essex had observed over time that no matter what upper hand you had, there was always an opposite force working for the opposite action. And for someone as powerful as Nur, it would take the Great Faerie herself to balance the scales. "What are you doing, my lady? What are you assembling that would require the likes of Lebeau?" He understood the elf queen's role; she was the center of everything, the gravity pulling everything into place. The elves were to provide the magical front against Nur's mages, no doubt.
Still, she was wearing a sword in Remy's dream. The woman had battle experience, yes, but decades had gone by. Did she really have the heart of warrior after all this time?
Essex had been aware she was fully conscious and not a puppet of Lebeau's mental machinations, unlike those harpies the ingrate always conjured to torture himself. The man was a ghastly mess of broken glass inside yet still, that dark skinned, fair haired elf managed to reach him. And when Nathaniel tried to remove her,
He pulled himself off of the altar and made his way to the dungeons to survey the damage.
The human, King Dayspring, was still lost on him. He understood the animosity between Nur and Dayspring, one standing for light, the other darkness. In his youth, Dayspring had foiled a few raids of Nur's on neighboring cities which fueled the feuding even more. Dayspring was older, approaching 50 but still remained relatively youthful. His gut told him not to underestimate the man.
But Lebeau… this was another twist. Especially when the man admitted he had tasted the young elf's blood and an elf Halfling was destined to bring demise to Nur. None was known to exist but… could Remy be the one to provide the end of the tyrant? All he would have to do is succumb to his desires and Ororo would be transformed. No, it seemed too simple because he could easily do the same thing if he desired. This one was walking around somewhere, already, maybe even unaware of their situation but he doubted it.
There were still missing pieces of the puzzle floating beyond his grasp.
Essex reached the bottom of the stairs to the second dungeon and smiled, almost filled with pride, as he took in the scene. To his right lay the mangled mess of what used to be the hell hound inhabited by the King of Shadows. Almost every bone in its body misaligned, covered in blood, and it had 2 distinct puncture marks on its neck. "So this is how you stay your cravings for her…" He murmured. It only made sense, having to feed on something so powerful...
He sniffed the air. Remy's blood was still here, a lot of it. His lip curled mischievously as he walked over to the wall of broken bars noting that the man must have been impaled on them. The blood was still wet from not only the damp air but the fact that vampires blood did not coagulate. Removing his glove, he wiped some off onto his index finger, disgusted with what he was about to do- the taste of old blood could be likened to that of curdled milk- but resigned the information gained worth it. Thoroughly appalled, he placed the finger in his mouth and tasted the memories of Remy Lebeau.
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When Remy awoke, his first thoughts were how comfortable the bed underneath him was. The next thought was the realization he was in a bed. The scent of cedar and sage filled his senses and he opened his eyes, despite the jarring pain throughout his body begging him to sleep more.
Heavy red velvet curtains hid the sunlight, with the only light emanating from the fire blazing strongly in the hearth. The room was unseasonably warm from it. His eyes darted above the flames to see a Red and Purple tapestry above the mantle. Upon seeing the royal crest, he knew exactly where he was, and comforted, immediately succumbed to his fatigue.
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This LONG chapter dedicated to Wahinetoa, Kendrat199, and Darlin for sticking with me since the beginning. Also, thank you to my new readers who saw the 18 chapter list and didn't run screaming- you are the brave souls fuel writers like me.