Path 3
Bonesinger
The Apprentice 5
A deep breath. Composure.
Yaidev was setting foot on a stage she would have liked to avoid for a few more years. Or perhaps the rest of her life. No rehearsal, only a few advices, a costume and the play began. How fortunate that she was but a background actor. Her father would be the one with a true part to play.
She followed him through a long hallway lined by pillars, which were covered with intricate frescos, depicting events of Saim-Hann's history. The Bonesinger knew almost all battles, tales of Riders or the schemes of Farseers she saw here; these stories could be seen everywhere on Saim-Hann, but whereas clans like to highlight their own accomplishments in their halls, this place held no such bias.
Frankly she would have liked to study the artwork in greater detail, but a quick look at each had to suffice. She was surrounded by the highest of her clan, aside from her father, lords and ladies of the Stormriders, who led their kin into battle when their chief commanded it, or advised him in times of peace.
Never before had Yaidev been part of such a delegation, making her feel out of place and uncomfortable. It didn't help matters that it once had been Shadira in her stead, who had accompanied Thalduin. Her aunt had been a strong and judicious voice for their clan, which only served to make the young eldar view herself as a pale replacement. Everyone else had centuries of experience. No, she shouldn't dwell on these thoughts. Today she needed to learn. After all, fortunately all she needed to do was look the part and listen silent but attentively, without letting any emotion show. She had performed more difficult tasks in the past.
Still, as she walked she was keenly aware of the layers of clothing she was wearing, especially the heavy, crimson cloak with shimmering, golden embroidery, and the paint drawn upon her face, a temporary tattoo of sorts, all of which announced her affiliation and echelon at first glance. A burden to be sure.
Finally they reached a great portal, the ivory surface of its two wings dominated by a massive snake, sigil of Saim-Hann, but so realistically sung from the wraithbone that it looked as if it was ready to strike out at any unworthy, who would dare enter the halls beyond. Yaidev stared at fangs long as her arms, piercing eyes, the spread shield along the neck throwing a shadow upon her.
The portal was flanked by two guards, belonging to a group dedicated to protecting areas such sa the Halls of the Seers and the Temple of Autarchs. Yaidev knew that for this reason they were exclusively Saim-Hannian without any clan affiliation, to assure that loyalty to their clan could not interfere with their duties.
Their armour was similar in design to that of the Dire Avengers, though instead of blue the wraith bone was white, their helmets black with bronze designs and runes, the manes shimmering metallic green and blue, reminiscent of magpie-feathers. What clothing they wore over the armour, like the sash and what appeared to be the bottom half of a surcoat, was black as well. The pauldron not covered by the sash was fashioned to look like a snake's head, though thanks to the colour could also have been the skull.
Without speaking they bowed their heads respectfully to Thalduin, who replied with a nod and handed one of them a dagger. It was a rule that meetings were attended unarmed, a rule one none dared to break. The Sanctum Guard, while no longer Aspect Warriors, were highly skilled and swift to act. Not to mention the disgrace a clan would suffer by disobeying their kin's customs. Thus it had been become tradtional that chiefs symbolically turned in a weapon to the wardens, a promise to come and leave in peace, and honour the sacred halls of the mightiest of Saim-Hann. Yaidev wasn't sure the dagger was even sharp, quite the opposite to the gleaming halberds of the guards.
"The Council has called, and the Baharothaíes answer."
"We bid you welcome Lord Thalduin Baharothaí, macir an-Kealendin." One of the guards replied. "Enter, and honour the sanctity of these Halls."
Thalduin placed a hand on his chest. "Neither I nor any of my kin shall trespass against their laws."
The two guards bowed anew and the portal behind them opened soundlessly, as they stepped aside.
Yaidev had expected bright lights, but they were actually dimmer inside. They stepped into the hall and at first she thought they had entered a bio dome. She saw the walls of the round room, but not the ceiling. Not only was it incredibly high, but there were two trees, not fashioned from wraithbone, but actual trees. They had been planted at opposite sides of the hall and by now had grown to be surely more than a hundred meters high and fifteen in diameter. Some of their massive roots were on the surface, snaking along the staircase-like rows along the walls, which looked as if they had been fashioned from marble. Their branches and leaves almost created a roof, further obscuring the actual ceiling and even the floor was not without golden foliage. It was thanks to them that the light from above was so dimmed and as Yaidev took it all in, the artificial breeze brushing her face and bare hands, she had the feeling that had not walk into a room, but was treading upon the ground of an ancient temple of a Maiden World.
It was beautiful and strangely managed to ease some of her tension.
Yaidev continued to take in everything around her, as they walked towards a specific location at the rows. With dozens of clans and hundreds of delegates, seats had been assigned, indicated by large banners along the walls, proudly displaying several meter large sigils, often composed of a combination of snakes, wings, blades or other weapons.
Blades of Khaine, Windserpents, Birds of Kurnous, Zephyrblades, Wraithbringers and many more, a great number having already arrived and taken their seats, their garments colourful, designed to catch the eye. Truthfully the effect however got somewhat lost with such a gathering.
Her father led them to their assigned seats, left to the entry on three of the more centre rows. As they climbed the stairs they stepped on silken carpets of gold and emerald, shimmering in the artificial sunlight.
Yaidev took her place behind her father and between the lords and ladies of their clan. She corrected her posture, until she was comfortable on both the cushion and her own legs, sitting straight, head lifted, careful to keep a neutral expression.
No one spoke with the exception of a few hushed whispers. More clans arrived and one by one they filled the seats until none was left vacant. The quiet conversations ended, once the last had sat down and Yaidev's earlier curiosity returned. The only ones missing where those who had called for them in the first place. Not just the Council of Seers, their members were now with their clans, but that of the craftworld's foremost military minds.
It was then that the large portal opened anew and the awaited group arrived, accompanied by a handful of the Sanctum Guard.
The triumvirate, the three most experienced Autarchs of Saim-Hann. They had left their clans in order to oversee the concerns of the craftworld as a whole, whereas other Autarchs would either only lead their own clan, jointly with the chief, if they didn't fill that position as well, or guide the united efforts of allied clans to avoid infighting and create a clear chain of command.
They were in full armour of crimson red, white and black, snakes of emerald wrapping themselves either around limbs or emblazoned on chests. Their cloaks billowed with each stride, yet the silken material made no sound, as they walked to the round, elevated central stage of the hall. The guards former a circle around it and lowered their shield so the tip at the bottom touched upon the floor.
The triumvirate was in no danger, and judging from this almost relaxed stance the Sanctum Guard was aware of that as well, but eldar, Saim-Hann in particular, were slow to break with traditions.
The three Autarchs looked around, as if they wanted to confirm for themselves that all clans had sent representatives for this gathering. Yaidev doubted that anyone would have been foolish enough to refuse the summons. The clans themselves had agreed to create the triumvirate when the craftworld had realised that some enemies required the whole of the craftworld to combat and as a tool against self-destructive actions. They had all sworn to at the very least listen to the proposals of this council; to break that vow and remain absent this day could thus cost a clan the support of their brethren, doubtlessly their respect.
Finally one of the elder stepped forth, his raven hair falling his shoulders, with the exception of a few small braids. Autarch Orlaith; a veteran of millennia of warfare.
"Riders of Saim-Hann, the triumvirate welcomes you all to these sacred halls. Long has it been since truly all clans were last gathered together and we thank you for heeding our invitation." The construction of the hall allowed his voice to reach all, without him needing to raise it by much. It was the voice of a commander, it drew one's attention and captivated by sound alone. Yaidev was certain he could have spoken about anything and she would have been unable to ignore him.
Orlaith continued, turning so he could see all gathered chiefs and representatives. "In recent years our home has fought many battles to preserve our kin and allies. Khaine himself smiled upon us, granting us victory in defence and our struggle against the Ruinous Powers." The Autarch turned to the Blades of Azure clan. "Farseer Methran'el, honoured member of the Council of Seers; you have the word."
One of the seers rose, his long, blue robes covered with golden runes. "Fellow riders, the Seer Council has spent the past months analysing the new threads of fate our interferences have woven." His voice was warm and pleasant, though betrayed that he seen millennia pass as well. "With great joy we can proclaim that our efforts have been successful. Not only have the humans of the Imperium defeated their fallen brethren, but with their world burned and uninhabitable, their interest in that region has been diminished. We've foreseen not further exploration or invasion of eldar space in the next centuries to come. The Maiden Worlds and our legacy shall remain safe for now."
There was no applause, no cheering, but Yaidev could feel the mood change, saw a few smiles, approving nods and could hear a few whispers. She allowed herself a brief, relieved smile.
"Our thanks, revered seer." Orlaith bowed respectfully, Farseer Mehtran'el returning the gesture before he sat back down.
The Autarch then stepped back in favour of one of the others, her face stern, sadness dwelling in sapphire eyes; Autarch Anuwyn. "This is not the only news we bring today. With battles come losses. No victory is without death and we all have seen brave brothers and sisters to the Infinity Circuit. This is why you have been called here today." What joy there had been, vanished at her words; all clans had suffered in past years, without exception. "Saim-Hann is weakened, our strength diminished and while we are still capable of striking decisive blows, the triumvirate today appeals to you honoured chiefs and fellow Autarchs. Many, including ourselves wish to restore the glory of days past, reclaim what has been taken. But such endeavours are meaningless if these halls are left tombs. Above all else we must fight for the living, we must preserve, and thus we Autarchs and the Council of Seers requests that all military operations, unless there are of purely defensive nature are to be disband. This includes preventive strikes unless sanctioned by both the Council of Seers and the triumvirate."
There were whispered and they did not sound pleased. One of the chiefs rose and with a wave of her hand, Autarch Anuwyn gave her permission to speak. She nodded briefly to convey her gratitude before she spoke. "Honoured Autrachs; for how long shall we be idle?"
"We hardly expect you to be idle, chief Halun'din." Autarch Caelan declared, stepping forth. "We can provide no timeframe, but we believe a few decades, centuries at most, to be sufficient. Time for you to train a new generation in the arts of Khaine. And for all others to hone their skills. Peace is a temporary luxury, one we must make the most out of."
Lady Anuwyn nodded. "In addition we have contacted allied Corsairs, who all have been advised to cease any operation and raids in our domain. We cannot regain our strength if Mon-Keigh are lured to our very doorstep."
"What of our brethren?" Yaidev turned her head to see that Nuadhu Fireheart, whose clan was seated close to the Stormriders, had spoken. As one of the most powerful chiefs of Saim-Hann he had not waited for permission as Halun'din. "Will we ignore the Exodites, should one of their worlds be invaded?"
Autarch Orlaith folded his arms in front of his chest; the young eldar almost got the impression that he was displeased with the Blades of Khaine's chief. "Naturally we will not stand idly by as our kin is slaughtered, but no clan can act alone. As we have said, ventures of a purely defensive nature are still approved. This includes aid to our world-bound brothers and sisters; merely anything beyond requires sanction."
"Do you plan to enforce these new restrictions?" Lord Nuadhu's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "For millennia each clan was near autonomous, and now you use the power given to you to leash us?" It was true that the triumvirate had rarely come together in this manner and actually made orders; even if they labelled these merely 'requests', all were honour-bound to obey them. Yaidev had studied much of Saim-Hann's history and the last time had been centuries ago. In fact the times something like this had occurred since the Fall could possibly be counted on the fingers of one hand alone.
Naturally Autarch Anuwyn was aware of those facts as well. "The triumvirate was created to ensure the safety and oversee military needs of all Saim-Hann in times of crisis, as you will recall. Oversight, so we would remain prosperous and ready to act whenever our strength is needed. Part of that are temporary decrees that all clans have sworn to obey, unless they result in direct harm or loss of life. Now, in these dire times, will you break your word, Rider?"
The Fireheart seemed insulted by the implication. "I am true to my word, honoured Autarchs. But like you, I am concerned for our people. I only seek to ensure that we don't take the wrong path."
Autarch Caelan nodded. "Your concern is most appreciated, but our decisions have not been made rashly. We have discussed our options for months and sought the Council of Seers for their advice and predictions. We are certain beyond doubt that a time of absolute none-aggression is the wisest course of actions for our people."
"Indeed." Lord Orlaith agreed his arms unfolded once again. "The Seers will remain as vigilant as they have been for thousands of years and outcasts will keep a keen eye on orks and humans alike."
And at last Autarch Anuwyn spoke with an authoritative tone that could even cool the famous Fireheart. "As for your earlier question, Lord Nuadhu, yes we shall enforce these 'restrictions' as you have called them, for those who ignore them threaten all our lives. Primarily we will judge those in charge of any unauthorized military endeavour, or other transgressions, but the tribunal will consist not only of ourselves and the highest Seers, but also any unaffiliated chief. Saim-Hann itself shall judge those who betray her, not her triumvirate."
Betray? Was Saim-Hann's condition truly so grave? Yaidev only knew about the losses her own clan had suffered and thanks to her friends as well as her teacher Halandur had some idea about how a few of the others fared. But all this could only mean that as a whole, the craftworld had taken significant losses despite their victories.
Sorrow filled her heart at the thought. Yaidev knew that decades would not be enough to truly regain their old strength. Too few were born in each generation to replace those lost in battle. This break truly was for those left alive to prepare. Including herself she realized.
The triumvirate was right. The survival of all was paramount. Whatever she did, whatever Paths she'd be walking throughout her life, it couldn't be just for own sake. For the moment she was only student on the Path of Shaping, but one day she was going to tend to the armours that would save the lives of her brothers and sisters, the weapons that would slay their enemies, work on vehicles taking their warriors into battle.
Yaidev felt new sense of determination and purpose, a little flame within sparking, familiar and yet so different from the fire that had burned inside of her as a Warrior. She do everything to help her people, not just her clan, but all of Saim-Hann.
The following few weeks past peacefully, but soon the day of the great race had come. All of Saim-Hann's clans enjoyed competing with each other to determine from which the best pilots of the craftworld hailed, or at least the fastest. Often these races took place on the few holidays the eldar still celebrated and today was no exception. It was the day of the Aonluth-Farlain, unique to Saim-Hann, as it was tied to an event from after the Fall.
"I'm fairly certain you picked the highest of watchtowers for us to climb."
Derahnim chuckled. "You were concerned about the view; I thought this location could put your mind at ease."
"If we ever get there."
Yaidev sighed, but with a smile on her lips. She had gotten used to this type of conversation, whenever Ilthaldir and Derahnim were in each other's company. Next to her walked Naverhan, who seemed quite amused as well.
"I wondered that they would be bickering about today." He told her quietly.
"I had assumed it would be about the participants, but apparently they didn't wish to wait." The bonesinger jested.
"Speaking of which; will you support one of your own clan?"
She gave him a shrug. "My clan has my support, however I do not favour a specific rider. Why do you ask?"
Naverhan gave her an almost mischievous smirk. "Mere curiosity, though I have seen Ilthaldir and Elowyn exchange a token last night as we parted ways. I assume it was for good luck."
This was unexpected. A simple gift, a gesture for support between friends would not have been given in secret, but hours before, when they all had spoken of the race. Meeting once in a while for drinks had become a custom for the six young eldar. "Do you know what was gifted?"
"I believe he gave her a sash, matching the colours of her clan."
That wasn't an uncommon gift for participants. Still. "I know they've been getting along very well, but this is surprising."
"Do you know if they have been spending time together?" Due to being a student of Halandur, Yaidev had become the musician's best friend and thanks to their shared time as Dark Reapers, had a close bond with Ilthaldir as well.
"Aside from our little gatherings?" The bonesinger shook her head. "Not that I've been aware, but I don't see either of them every day, much less do I know what they do any given hour. So there has certainly been plenty of time, when they could have become more acquainted."
"Maybe we should keep an eye out." Naverhan suggested.
Yaidev frowned at his degree of curiosity. "We really shouldn't pry. I'm certain that if they wish for us to know, they're going tell useventually. If there even is anything that warrens mention."
"You're right, but you can't deny that you are curious yourself." He told her with a knowing smile; he wasn't wrong.
"Naturally I am. They are two of my best friends." She looked to Ilthaldir, who was still engaged in his own conversation with Derahnim and smiled. "Besides, I am more or less responsible for them meeting in the first place."
From the corner of her eye she saw Naverhan nod. "You definitely were. Ah; we are finally here."
The four stepped through an arch to a wide platform and while not the first spectators to arrive, there was still plenty of room for them at the balustrade. They were in one of Saim-Hann's largest bio-domes, encompassing not only a city worth of buildings, but also a well-tended forest with the occasional glade, where often shrines in honour of gods and mortal heroes alike had been erected. Different than the many other smaller bio-domes, this one didn't belong to an individual clan, making it a suitable place to hold a tournament.
"What a wonderful view." Yaidev remarked, taking in the green gardens and white towers around them, as she stepped to the balustrade.
Ilthaldir, who was standing next to her, looking around as well, nodded. "True, but we'll be spending much time watching the holograms regardless."
"So, who do you reckon will fare better in the race?" Naverhan asked them, leaning his back against the elegant railing. "Talranis or Elowyn?"
"Elowyn is skilled, but I believe Talranis to be the superior rider. He's also seen more battles with his jetbike; he knows it well and is swift to react, more aggressive in his style." Derahnim pointed out.
In response Ilthaldir turned away from the garden and towards his friends, folding his arms in front of his chest. "That very well may be, but he might be too aggressive. He will seek to test his skills with the older, more experienced riders. If he can't match them, he will grow frustrated, make mistakes. Elowyn is much calmer and might profit of them." He smiled. "Yes, I'm confident she will prove the superior of the two."
Naverhan gave Yaidev a meaningful look, the ghost of a smirk on his lips and Yaidev suppressed a chuckled. Perhaps he was right about the two after all.
Suddenly the conversations around them came one by one to a stop. "I think it's time." Derahnim noted.
Both Ilthaldir and Yaidev took out the projectors they had brought along, discs of wraithbone, in which several crystals were embedded. Upon activation these emitted light beams and where they crossed a three-dimensional image appeared.
"It seems they are making the final preparations." Naverhan stood next to Yaidev, studying the contestants and their jetbikes, as she had the image move from one starting-platform to the next, each clan having its own.
Ilthaldir was doing the same with the poet watching with him. "It seems Elowyn and Talranis are at the back of their respective teams."
This didn't come as a surprise, given that they were the youngest and least experienced riders. Still, that they had made it among the few chosen was no small feat.
Yaidev herself hadn't even participated in her clan's try-outs. After years as a Dark Reaper she had only just resumed her training as a rider and she didn't deem herself skilled enough to be a worthy representative. On the other hand the highest ranking members of a clan, the nobility of sorts, rarely partook in these races anyway. A poor performance could negatively affect one's standing.
When nobles raced or participated in any form of contest, it tended to be in the context of a direct challenge. After all, refusing such would be dishonourable and cowardly.
For a moment Yaidev wondered if she would have tried to earn a place in the team, if she had been a normal Stormrider, when Ilthaldir spoke. "They are done."
Indeed, as Yaidev's attention turned back to the images, she could watch as everyone but the riders themselves left the platforms. From the clothing she knew some of the departing to be bonesingers, likely having made some final adjustments to the bikes.
Only a few moments later a voice came from the speakers that had been installed all across the bio-dome. "I bid you welcome Saim-Hann, to the annual Aonluth-Farlain!" There were no cheers, but polite applause at his words. "In a time of strife and greatest need, some of our home's valiant children stepped forth to remind us that we are one people. A people that has ever defied darkness and corruption, and who's star shines brightly to this day." Yaidev couldn't help but shift her weight from one leg to the other, jaws clenching briefly, remembering what she had heard during the gathering of the chiefs. How long would this light remain bright, or was it soon to dim? Quickly she dismissed those thoughts and retuned her focus just in time to hear the ending of the brief speech. "Thus let us honour our ancestors' deeds, so Saim-Hann may ever stand ready to face all threats, be they mortal or undying. For the honour of Saim-Hann and may fortune smile upon you riders!"
This time the applause that followed was louder. All on the craftworld knew the history of the games. Not long after the Fall, when the humans had but begun to establish their Imperium, Saim-Hann's clans had found themselves on the brink of self-destruction. Ancient feuds had turned the Wild-Riders against each other and between the different alliances war had been all but certain.
Back then, it seemed they had not yet grasp the true peril the eldar as a whole were in, their ancient culture having not fully adjusted to the new reality they were facing. But changes came slow for such a long-living species. They came easier with new generations.
Still, when civil-war had threatened to tear one of the greatest craftworlds apart, a few around Autarch Nyvian Cairadael had stepped forth. All had been high-ranking individuals, nobles and chiefs, but also from the newer ranks of Exarchs, Autarchs and Seers. Together they had managed to defuse the dire situation, ended feuds or at the very least mitigated them through diplomacy, honour duels and trials held by the few neutral parties remaining on the craftworld.
It hadn't put an end to rivalries or the hatred that lingered between some families, but Saim-Hann had been saved from self-destruction. The contests today were a reminder of those their ancestors had competed in and the race was but the biggest event of the day. Many more would follow, from the duels of swordsmen to the verses of Saim-Hann's greatest story-tellers and poets.
Yaidev's attention returned to the holographic images.
The riders had taken positions, their engines already humming, as the bikes where now hovering above the ground. Yaidev could almost feel the tension in the air, gripping the projector tighter, as if she feared it could slip out of her hands.
The light along the platforms died and a bonfire before them was set ablaze.
As one the riders dashed off, more than a hundred taking to the skies with unrivalled speed. Yaidev saw Ilthaldir change the settings of his projector and the image focused in on a small group, a rune shimmering over one of the riders. Elowyn.
The bonesinger adjusted her image as well, but focused on Talranis' group instead, who already was ahead of her, racing alongside the rest of his clan at the top. It wasn't much of a surprise.
The Birds of Kurnous were famous on Saim-Hann, home to many of the swiftest pilots. In times of war they often served as scouts, or distracted the enemy rather than fighting had-on, when they joined the host.
And today they once more showed their expertise. A few of them descended upon their opponents like hawks, Talranis among them, not seeking to harm, but to disrupt. The other riders were forced to evade, allowing the rest of the Felchuas an-Kurnous to establish a lead.
Of course not all riders were fazed by those manoeuvres and kept up. Still, the leading group had thinned.
Elowyn on the other hand was in the centre and it seemed that many of the other pilots had realized that she was new blood. Two soared towards the sky directly in front of Elowyn. Yaidev held her breath, the tip of her friend's bike pointed like a spear towards one of the daring pilots. It had to be a meter seperating them at most. Suddenly Elowyn performed a barrel-roll to the side, never slowing and dashed past her opponent.
The young bonesinger could hear Ilthaldir chuckle and when she briefly looked at him saw a glimmer of relief in his eyes. It vanished almost immediately.
Other riders still tried to slow her down, getting in her way, forcing Elowyn to change direction. Once again Ilthaldir seemed worried and Derahnim too frowned at the several near collisions. "Trial by fire?" The poet asked.
"In part." Naverhan noted. "But they also know that a kindred will never abandon their own. The Windserpents will come to assist her if she can't escape herself and this will put them at a disadvantage."
He was not mistaken. The kinship ties between clan members was usually very strong; unless absolutely necessary, an eldar would not be left behind by their siblings, even in a race.
"She trained with Talranis as well as her clan." Ilthaldir reminded him. "She will not give up without a fight."
The healer smiled. "I do not doubt that, only if she will succeed."
"Then let us see if she can." Yaidev didn't want to miss this and by now was ignoring Talranis' image entirely, having adjusted her projected to show the musician as well.
Seconds later it was as if Elowyn's engines had died. Her bike swooped, no tumbled down from the skies towards the ground beneath her. Was this deliberate? Yaidev bit her lower lip, eyes glued to the projection, not even bothering to see how the others were reacting, though she saw Ilthaldir's grip tightening.
About a mere meter above the tree line, the engines suddenly came back to life and the bike regained its balance.
The treetops swayed as she past them, but apparently she had not touched them. Above her several other riders overtook Elowyn, but she was safe for the time being. It was forbidden to fly through the forests of the dome itself, in part to avoid accidents and other 'mischances' from previous races.
Riders had been seriously injured, some claimed a few had even perished in the past, which given the velocity Yaidev was inclined to believe. Therefore so close to the trees only fools would dare to attack Elowyn now and risk disqualification for a comparatively inexperienced rider.
She wouldn't be able to linger there for much longer however. The area was reserved as a buffer-zone, she could still be disqualified herself, if she were to remain. For a few more seconds Elowyn stayed close to the trees, before she abruptly pulled up. Two riders dodged sideways, when she emerged like a shark from the depths.
Naverhan then suddenly spoke, his gaze directed to their right. "Here they come."
Everyone looked up from the projector. Jetbikes could fly with velocities at the edge of what even an eldar was able to handle and endure. They saw the bikes of the leading group shimmer red in the artificial light of the dome in the distance. But almost as soon as they'd come into view, they whirled past the tower, the wind that seemed to be struggling to catch up, blowing Yaidev's hair back seconds later.
"Felchuas an-Kurnous and the Dealanthir Saimas." Derahnim exclaimed.
"Dominating the race as usual, though I believe there is at least one Blade of Khaine among them."
"Wouldn't want to upset the Fireheart, know would we?" The gardener still looked right, apparently having not paid too much attention to the leading riders. "The second group is coming!"
Just like with the first group, the bikes past them within moments and disappeared again between elegant towers, leaving the gardens behind them.
"And there they go." Derahnim remarked, brushing his black hair back behind his pointy ears.
"Tis only the first lap." Yaidev was quick to remind him, returning her gaze to the projection.
Naverhan nodded. "At least there haven't been any accidents yet." He noted with some relief; the first minutes of a race tended to be the most dangerous ones.
The poet smirked. "Are you afraid to get some unexpected work, healer?"
"I'm simply glad that our friends remain unharmed, Derahnim."
"For the time being." Ilthaldir seemed the most concerned among them. "Let us see if Morai-Heg continues to smile upon them during the following two hours as well."
Yaidev tried to give him an encouraging smile, but the gardener's eyes were too focused on the projection to notice. She and Naverhan exchanged a look, her friend smiling knowingly once more.
"Well, while the outcome wasn't truly a surprise, this was certainly entertaining." Derahnim claimed as they descended from the tower a few minutes after the race had ended around noon.
"More for you than us." The healer reminded him and sighed, clearly not feeling jubilant. "I wonder what our respective clans think of our riders' performances."
Yaidev placed a comforting hand on his shoulder as they began to walk down the path towards the platforms where the riders had landed earlier. "I think both Windserpents and Stormriders did well enough, even if we weren't represented in the leading ten." She shrugged. "Better among the centre than the last to make it."
They walked in silence for a while, regarding the multiple banners hanging from the arches that about every twenty meters spanned the avenue they walked along the forest. On each banner, smaller ribbons were attached, proclaiming the clan's champions in the various disciplines they would compete in today, along with runes of wraithbone for good fortune, a gesture of support from their kindreds. Yaidev meanwhile also kept her eyes open for Ilthaldir, who had gone ahead, by now having disappeared among their fellow eldar, many of which now walked along the same avenue, probably heading towards the next contest they wished to observe.
Finally the platforms were in sight and Naverhan spoke anew. "Talranis certainly will be happy with his clan." He healer was likely correct. The Felchuas an-Kurnous had dominated the race, even if their friend had fallen somewhat behind, as he had fulfilled his role in impeding their opponents.
"With his own performance as well I should think. He may have been last among his own, but that as far as we could see was by design." As Yaidev spoke the last words they left the white paved path and turned right, between shrines dedicated to ancient heroes of the past, a shortcut to their destination.
"It was a strong first impression." Naverhan admitted. "His extensive training has certainly paid…" He hesitated to finish his sentence, when he almost ran into Derahnim, who had been walking in front of him.
Yaidev frowned. "Why are we stopping?"
They stood at a corner and when the poet turned around to them, there was a smile on his lips. "See for yourself." He stepped back, letting the other two peek around the shrine.
Elowyn and Ilthaldir were standing alone between the shrines of chief Alondin and warlock Vaserah, closer than appropriate for common conversation. This time it was Naverhan who placed a hand on Yaidev's shoulder, while the poet tried to get a good look from behind them.
Together the three watched as Elowyn leaned closer, a hand on the gardener's chin, and placed a kiss on Ithaldir's cheek. Naverhan's hand squeezed the bonesinger's shoulder gently and she could almost sense his grin, now that he was all but proven right with his earlier assumption.
Still, at first all three stared at the pair in surprise. "There is something we've missed these past months." The poet noted and Yaidev quickly dragged the two males behind the corner again. They truly shouldn't be spying on their friends, especially on a moment like this, though the thought occurred to her later than it should have.
Yaidev chuckled as Naverhan winked. "Evidently." She replied innocently. "Come we should give them some privacy."
"You will ask her about this during your next lesson." It wasn't a question and the healer was right.
"Obviously. But I shall try to be subtle."
Naverhan was obviously amused. "Well, if she does tell you, feel free to share with the rest of us."
"I shall, however it would probably for the best, if we acted ignorant until they address the topic. Needless to say that this applies not only for tonight."
"You have our word." Derahnim assured her, while the healer nodded in agreement. "Still, should we tell Talranis about our suspicions?"
It seemed only fair. "Otherwise he'll be the only one unaware."
They returned to the avenue and within a few minutes reached their destination. There was still a large crowd present at the platforms, clans celebrating their riders, while others discussed manoeuvres and other highlights of the race. Yaidev soon discovered the Felchuas an-Kurnous, fortunately having gathered rather close to the avenue, apparently about ready to leave, the first wandering off. Their voices were rather merry, when she overheard snippets of their conversation. Well, they had every reason to be in good spirits.
"He should be around here somewhere." Naverhan too was looking around, though like her was having no success.
Thankfully Derahnim was with them. "I think I see him, left to that arch." He pointed further down the avenue, to the edge of the forest, where between a towering tree and the slender wraithbone structure stood a lone figure apart from the crowd. It was indeed their friend and he too spotted them as they approached.
"Talranis. Congratulations on your performance; I suppose we will see you representing the Birds of Kurnous more often in the future." The poet greeted him warmly.
Talranis bowed his head. "My thanks Derahnim." He smiled at them, though his joy was visibly diminished by a hint of regret lingering in his expression. "I was hoping to see you, as I unfortunately cannot stay for long. My kindred awaits me and I do not wish to insult them with my absence as they celebrate our victory."
"A shame, caraidir, though we expected as much. Yaidev and I must soon join our kin as well." Naverhan replied. "But surely you will join us later tonight."
"Of course; I wouldn't miss it." The rider promised them and suddenly seemed to be searching. "Where is Elowyn? I wanted to congratulate her before I depart."
It was Derhanim who answered, after a moment's hesitation. "She is otherwise engaged, but I'm certain she'll join us tonight."
Talranis frowned obviously puzzled. "Otherwise engaged?" He repeated, looking to the other two, likely in hope of answers.
"Ilthaldir d'Elowyn dja cheritares." Naverhan apparently had decided to take the direct approach.
The frown vanished, the expression of confusing however did not and was now joined by honest surprise. "You're jesting."
"He's selling the hide before the hunt." Yaidev noted rolling her eyes. "Ilthaldir gave her a token and received a gesture of affection in return after the race. Tis too soon to speak of them as a couple."
"So there is affection." Talranis clarified.
"Affection that might turn to love one day, true, but as of now it is not our place to make assumptions and label their relationship." Yaidev was cautions for a reason. While in general relationships between members of different, yet allied clans was acceptable and even approved, given that it strengthened alliances, romantic relationships were often frowned upon. If lasting, one clan would eventually lose a valuable member, who another gained, or both lovers would chose to become clan-less, a loss for either party. If there was more to those observed gestures, it needed to be known only to their small group for the time being.
"Well that is a surprise." The rider's expression turned thoughtful. "Though now that I think of it, they have been spending some time together without us occasionally."
"We've agreed not to address the matter in their presence. If there truly is something between them, they should tell us, when they feel ready." Yaidev explained, glad that they were standing apart from the crowd, even though most were too occupied with their own conversations regardless.
"Fair enough." He shook his head, an amused smile on his lips. When Talranis looked to his kin he saw most of the remaining departing, one gesturing him to join them. He quickly turned to his friends one last time. "Such an interesting day this turns out to be. I shall see you all tonight, but now I must leave before I am missed."
The bonesinger nodded. "Until tonight then, Talranis."
"Enjoy your day, my friends." With that the rider departed and disappeared among his clan, as the crowd finally dispersed. Soon the next contests would begin.
Naverhan was aware of that as well. "I suppose we too must part. Will you be fine without us Derahnim?"
The poet nodded. "Of course; I will wander around and watch the competitions with the other clan-less, as I do every year. It might not be as exciting as for you, but me and my family have always enjoyed them nonetheless." He placed a hand on his heart. "Best of luck to your clans."
"Taichual, Derahnim. Until toninght."
"Furtafar, j'in caraides." He went back the way they had come, meaning he was heading for the contests between the various artists of the craftworld, soon gone behind a turn and ancient trees.
"So." The gardener spoke anew. "You think the Baharothaíes can defeat the Windserpents in the arena?"
She chuckled softly. "Oh, I know who had been chosen from my clan." Yaidev told him sanguinely. "And I have every confidence in them"
He folded his arms in front of his chest, though his smile did not vanish. "Care for a wager?"
Yaidev merely raised an eyebrow. "What would be the stakes?"
"A little favour perhaps." Naverhan innocently suggested. "Should my clan prove superior with the blade, you will write a little poem to honour the victor. Fear not; I shall be the only one to know of it, you mustn't even write it down." Such a work would indeed be shameful for her, a Stormrider praising another clan while ignoring her own. But if she only had to perform it once for him alone, there was little harm. She trusted him not to share it or anything like it with others.
"And if the Stormriders win?"
He considered this for a moment. "As you know I used to be a cook once. I'd offer a dinner of your choosing."
It wasn't as humiliating, but he had proven his skills to them already. And she could always be creative with her poem. A bit of mockery perhaps; he hadn't requested it to be honest, or forbidden the use of sarcasm. She would save her face and keep true to her word. "You know I will pick a meal I know you don't like." Yaidev finally said.
"That is only fair." He conceded, thought the prospect didn't seem to bother him in the slightest. "It wouldn't be much a stake, if I wasn't punished in some way."
She chuckled softly. "We have a wager."
…
Later that night, Yaidev was the last to appear at their traditional venue, the others having already gathered and ordered drinks. Before she took her seat, she stopped next to Naverhan and whispered something to him only he could hear, a smile on her lips. "How familiar are you with the rustic cuisine of the Exodites?"
Eldar Language:
Macir = Son (based on Gaelic)
AonluthUnity (Gaelic)
Farlain = Tournament (Gaelic)
Felchuas = Birds of Prey (Eldar)
Dealanthir = Lightning (Gaelic)
Saimas = Snakes (Eldar)
Caraidir, Caraides = (a male) friend, friends (Gaelic)
Cheritares = couple/lovers (based on the eldar word Cherital=love)
Taichual = Thank you (Gaelic combined with the eldar word Ual=you)
Furtafar = See you later (Eldar)