Edge, p.10
EDGE, page 10
Vali allows Ilva to drag her to the open room. The Wan and Zi hover in the middle of the space, and Ignatius is now perched on the Wan’s shoulder. They appear to have interrupted a rather intense conversation between the Wraith Wan and the queen.
Vali cannot see, nor sense, the tiny ball of brown leaves and webs. She can barely feel the Wan’s presence. She can, however, sense the heat coming off of Ignatius.
~
Dola rams her shoulder into the door of the onyx tower.
Gati struggles with a large boulder, moving with it against his hips for balance, and throws it with all his might. It crashes into the bottom of the door, cracking the base away from the frame.
“Oh, that was helpful,” Dola says sarcastically.
“Just shut up,” Gati says, as he moves his hands over the rock, lifting it up, and tossing it again. “More help than your sad old bones,” he grunts. His aim is a little higher this time, knocking away more shards of the door. Enough for him to reach an arm up and shove the inner latch off its hook. Once he swings the lock off the door bar, he knocks the piece of wood out of the way just in time.
Dola kicks the door open, just missing Gati’s head. He grimaces at her, and at that moment she grips his head in her hand and uses him to maintain her balance. As she steps over the boulder and splintering wood, he tosses her arm away. Dola grins to herself. Gati’s spunky way of fighting back was becoming quite amusing to her.
The two of them rush through the entryway and find themselves in the room with the glass table. Skirting around it, missing the hidden stairwell, the two elves advance toward the hall with the greenhouse, weapons drawn.
~
“Now that we’re all here, let’s go.” The Wan ushers them hastily.
“Not so fast,” Zi states. “Ilva must request it. I can do nothing for you, my creator.” She speaks the title with a clear insinuated insult, a fake smile on her prim face.
“Fine, take us where we need to go,” Ilva says with urgency. She really wishes she knew what it was that made these two so abrasive toward each other. Her creator?
At that moment, Dola and Gati enter the room. “Well, well. Hello, granddaughter. I see you found the tramp you love, as well as some other unsightly company.” She grunts disapprovingly at the Wan and Ignatius.
Queen Zi is hiding behind the Wraith Wan—out of sight of the intruders—trying to perform her spell as quickly as she can.
Dola monologues, “You truly are a shame upon our family. Even more so than your mother was. You have no idea what I live with as a result of your flippant actions. You and Vela both have been the ruin of me and all I have built. I am only a dog, doing the bidding of others for centuries, because of you and your pathetic mother! Both of you allowed lust and infatuation to uproot generations of pure Silver elf magic. All the while I maintained alliances that would have broken if they learned of your or Vela’s treachery. Neither of you ever cared about the risk to me! Your actions put my life in constant danger. Well, no more. I will be responsible for you one last time. By ending your life, I can finally rid myself of the mistakes I made. Just like I rid myself of Vela.”
Vali is cut by each of Dola's cruel, murderous words as they leave her sinister mouth.
Zi hurries, but fear and anger cause her hands to tremble. She spins her small fingers in dainty circles, trying to cast the spell that will open the way.
Ilva braces herself, keeping Gati, who is doing a slow circle around them, in her periphery. He tries to close off the windows as an escape option. In a few moments, he will find the queen. Ilva knows she has to distract them, she has to give Zi enough time. Without thinking, she runs at Gati.
Gati raises his thin rapier, which shatters to pieces with one hit from Ilva’s stone fists. He shakes his head disbelievingly as her flesh shifts into stone. Fiery veins lace their way into the cracks and crevices.
Ilva wiggles her rock-like fingers, and more stone cracks, exposing the golden glow beneath, as Gati backs slowly away from her.
Vali finds herself unprepared for the strength behind Dola’s attacks.
The Silver elf dives at her granddaughter, every wild slash of the greatsword filled with hate. “I should have killed you when you were small! Save me the embarrassment I have suffered. Worthless, stupid…fool!” Each insult is accompanied by violent swings.
Vali sidesteps each attack, hand on the hilt of her mother’s sword, unable to unsheathe it as she spends all her endurance on avoidance. She stumbles, and Dola’s sword sinks into her leg. Deep.
As Dola rips the sword from the wound, tearing it away from the bone it had severed, Vali begins to scream.
Ilva stops advancing on Gati, whips toward the bloody sight, and matches Vali’s scream.
Gati takes this as his opportunity to grab Ilva and hold the sharp needle that is left of his sword against her twitching neck muscles.
The Wraith Wan does not move, hoping that Zi can still save them all.
Ignatius does not know whose aid to fly to, though they desperately gaze toward Ilva, the firebird awaiting the Wan’s command.
Dola lifts the greatsword above her head, ready to swing it with all her force into Vali’s neck.
“Dola! Do not kill her.” Gati’s voice surprises them all.
“Why?” Dola yells furiously, arms still braced.
“What you want, you will never have again. Killing will not bring it back.” Gati speaks with a tone of understanding.
Dola struggles to digest his words. Her face drips with sweat, her breath exits her in rage-filled gasps, and she is venomously angry.
“Let us bring them to Marka. Imprisonment can be just as cruel as death,” Gati tries to reason.
“No,” Dola whispers in a huffy breath. “No!” she shouts, bringing the sword down.
She and Gati don’t see the ball of light glowing behind the Wraith Wan, nor do they see the tiny door opening larger and larger.
“Get Ilva!” the Wan instructs Ignatius.
The firebird flies over, blasting flames from their wings, blinding Gati. Ilva cannot take her eyes off Vali as the bird fans the flames and grips her shoulders, the heat not bothering the witch goddess one bit, as Ignatius pulls her fast out of Gati’s range.
At the same time, the Wan sweeps under the greatsword, deflecting the swing with an invisible barrier of spirits, and drags Vali away. Blood trailing, Vali going pale, the four of them zip into the tiny doorway. Zi is right behind them, slamming the door of the magic portal.
The way vanishes, the light winks out, as Gati and Dola stand transfixed.
Chapter 33
Livy wakes early in the night. Kava had poked her and now clamps a hand over her mouth as she points at the tree line. There are torches and voices. Many elves, particularly the ones snoring, are being woken up quickly by Oren. As they awake, they grab their weapons and hold firm their positions. Soon every elf is awaiting the ambush, ready to fight. The wyverns are still asleep.
The voices inch closer. “I swear! The dragons landed somewhere over here, dozens of elves riding on them, I saw them. Why do you never believe me?” a shrill elfling pleads.
“Because,” a second more gruff voice grumbles, “you lie about anything for a bit of coin. And a dragon is a lot of coin, a single dragon would be rare to see, and you say you saw how many?”
The shrill voice is calmer but still high in pitch. “I saw one big one and three little ones!”
Based on the returning laughing, Kava guesses there are less than a dozen.
No one notices the wyverns waking, save for Oren, who tries to calm them as they stretch and yawn like playful waking felines.
Kava motions for Livy to stay put, then she slinks over to the bushes closest to the torchlight. Peeking over the hedge line, she counts nine elves total. She crouches again, angling her body to face the group, and holds up nine fingers.
Just then, one of the wyverns rolls out of the protective circle, launched by their sibling’s wingbeats. The torches rush toward the wyvern as the group jumps up to defend the creatures. Soon all were fighting, six to every one of the torchbearers, and in mere moments all nine strangers were subdued. The Selenite and Satinspar elves drag the nine into the protective circle.
Oren chastises the wyverns, and Kava asks the elf with the gruff voice, “Are you the leader of this band of dragon hunters?”
“Dragon hunters?” he laughs. “We are Stone elves. From Ivarseas.”
“Why were you seeking out our dragons?”
“We did not believe such beasts were even out here. We came because my son claimed to have seen four of them. We assumed he was having us all on.” He glances at the elf with a high voice.
“As you can see, he was not. He has a keen eye,” Kava praises him without smiling, “but what do you intend to do now that you know we are here?”
The elf goes quiet, then coughs in his throat before devising his own line of questioning. “Why are you here?”
Oren silently assesses the leader, holding up her hands to inspect his aura.
The leader flinches with uncertainty about what the Grand Witch is doing.
Oren learns all she needs about their group to know that these are elves they want to be in the company of. She gestures with a raised palm to Kava.
“We seek allyship with the spirits, nymphs, and other beings of Zoriya. We intend to fuse all magic and liberate the oppressed. We plan to remove those in power and find common ground with all who are at the mercy of those they serve. Our targets of concern are High Lady Alix, Lady Dola, and Lord Ediv. We also know that this land is to be swallowed by the spirit world soon,” Kava honestly states.
“Wow. Big job for”—he pauses and glances around—“less than a hundred elves?”
“Our numbers should prove sufficient, once we have allied with our other comrades. I shall ask again, what do you intend to do with this information?” Kava remains stone-faced.
“Not certain. Maybe this was all a dream. Then again…” He nods to each of his companions, and then his son. All heads dip to agree. “Maybe we want to join your cause.”
Kava gestures with an open hand for a handshake. “Then welcome to the rebellion. What is your name, friend?”
He grips the hand firmly, and drops it quickly. “Jafi. My boy here is Kipp.” Jafi dusts off the young elf lad's pants and helps a few of his comrades up. Soon they all find themselves shaking hands with their captors. “I must say, that was quite an effective capture. Not a single death, and not a one wounded, impressive.” The compliment lightens the mood.
“Wonderful to have you all on board. I am the leader of the Selenite mages, Kava here is my second. We are grateful for your support. Though—forgive my curiosity—for what reason do you wish to take up arms against the blood-rite rulers, the Lord and Ladies of Zoriya?” Some things are beyond Oren’s sights.
Jafi corrects her, “Lord and Lady. There is only Ediv and Dola. High Lady Alix was slain by Ediv’s long-lost daughter, Ilva. Rumor has it that Dola has joined with the Sapphire King, who liberated all of Zoriya. King Flaz just came and announced his position to us last month. The truth is we don’t all want Flaz to rule us, but we do want to be safe. So we don’t dare rebel. We comply and allow the figureheads to figure it out. But, if I could have a say, none of the rulers we’ve had have been fit. I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to seeing what someone else can offer.”
“That’s fair,” Oren says. “It is wise of you to remain open to new situations. I fear you may need to endure many changes very soon.”
“There’s something else you should know. Lord Ediv is in the dungeons of Marka. King Flaz has arrested him.”
“What?” Livy gasps.
“How did this come to be?” Kava asks.
Jafi, having relayed all the information he had, simply shrugged.
“I thought Zoriya had a good rapport with the Sapphire kingdom?” Kava asks, “Why are they here? Why would they lock up Ediv?”
“Did you know any of these things?” Oren puts a hand on Livy’s shoulder.
“No.” Truthfully, she did not know much. She had avoided every gossip chain and viewing of world events from her solitary confinement. “I’m sorry, I’m not the best messenger, I s’pose. Meliae shouldn’tve relied on a dumb ol’ thing like me.”
“Dear Livy, why are you always so hard on yourself?” comes a creaking voice that resembles harsh winds bending boughs in a storm.
“Meliae!” Oren runs over and embraces the androgynous, treelike nymph.
Kava steps forward as well and bows. Many others follow suit, including the nine new members of their party.
“Hi Mel.” Livy gives the nymph a gentle smile like one a child might give to an elder they really respect.
“You have done well, Livy. I will tell you of the difference you have made, bringing these elves here, helping them as they seek alliances with other elves in Zoriya. You are a swift and efficient messenger. You should be proud of everything you’ve accomplished these past few weeks.”
“Here, here!” Cheers rise up around her, and Livy’s cheeks warm in embarrassment. She hates being the center of attention.
She waves her hands at everyone, making hushing sounds, no longer able to take their praise easily. “As you were, eh?”
“Get your rest everyone, I shall watch over you tonight. Tomorrow I shall escort you to the mountain pass.” Meliae’s voice is as soothing and comforting as a summer breeze.
Jafi approaches Livy. “They’re right, you know? You’re a beacon of trust. I know you, Livy, and I know your story. I used to love observing elves as an elfling, and your story was one of the saddest I’d ever seen. I don’t even have all the context and clues and I know that to be true. Any of us who saw you trying to have a place in Falil or Ivarseas knew it.
“And, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what the previous lord did to you. No one deserves what you had to endure. I’m glad you’re still alive, so I could tell you not all of us would have treated you that way. Not everyone is filled with that kind of cruel intent. I wish you nothing but peace, mother of Ediv, and daughter of Nira.”
He bows, before leaning in close, so it is only her that can hear him. “I know your son has been disappointing you for a very long time. Truthfully, he’s disappointed many of us too. Many of his citizens blame him outright. But I knew him before he changed. Livy, I think he’s cursed.”
Livy blinks at his knowledge, shock apparent on her face.
Jafi bows again, then shuffles off to lie next to the already sleeping Kipp.
Meliae finishes putting up their own much stronger barrier. They ride upon their rooting roots over to where Livy still sits, flustered, and pondering all the what if’s. “Livy, keep practicing.”
“I tried, I got nothing.” Livy sighs.
“Don’t give up on yourself so easily. You can do it. If you believe in yourself, you can do anything. I know you have power in you. I can feel it in your blood, through the soles of your always bare feet. You are more connected with nature than you realize. Please, Livy, don’t give up. Keep practicing,” they say, before drifting about the perimeter again.
“Fine, I’ll try a bit more.” Livy pouts as she sits on the ground, as far away from the sleeping campers as the invisible walls will allow. She touches the ground, rocks back and forth, and chants. An otherworldly chant Meliae had given her many moon cycles ago when she left the cottage. A language she can barely speak, strange words that feel more like whispered animal noises. Yet she speaks them with ease. As if it is a language she simply forgot for a time. As she rocks, the ground shifts under her, the dirt swirling as a picture takes form on the gritty canvas. No, not a picture, a message. Letters scrawl into the sand. They read,
ZORIYA WILL FALL
AND ANOTHER REALM WILL JOIN THIS ONE
Livy opens her eyes, expecting another disappointing end to her gruelling efforts. But the message she spies sends her scuttling back. As she pulls herself away, the message in the swirled-up dirt disappears, returning to its previous, undisturbed state.
Everyone is fully nestled into their beds, and the new arrivals lay upon their fur-lined cloaks. Sleep found everyone. Save for Livy, who closes her eyes and listens deeply to the nighttime. Something has her worried. Not just the message she briefly saw in the dirt, but the magic that has apparently, finally, manifested in her. At her age. She does not know how to accept the reality that she has just cast her very first spell. Can she find this purpose, now, as an elder elf?
Meliae would likely tell her, Anytime is a good time for a beginning.
Chapter 34
As Ilva, Vali, the Wan, Ignatius, and Zi all disappear through the way, Dola screams with frustration.
She had been so close to terminating the last of the elves she had a role in creating. She resents everyone and every part they play in her life. Mostly though, she realizes, she resents Odys, the vicious liar! His cons ruined my whole life. Against my knowing, the trickster had me birth a half-breed, then he began supporting Vela being with Rolk. Conniving self-serving prick! This is all his doing. He burdened me with this shame. He took my dignity, my lineage. He made me look like the fool! Vali and Vela never should have existed, and Odys never should have deceived me into having children with him. I will set myself free of them all!
Gati waits in agony as Dola fumes, knowing all too well what she is trying to do. For he has done it. He once hated his wife and daughter, blamed them, abused them with his foul-tempered words and cutting remarks about who they were. He even once thought about killing them. Believing they had ruined his reputation. But, no, he had done the ruining.
Chapter 35
FOUR HUNDRED YEARS AGO
Gati, the king, had a child with his half-Silver wife. Their child came out pale as a cloud, with barely a tinge of blue, save for her hair… and a tiny patch of scales glistening against her tailbone. The sight shocked the king and all the accompanying nurses and doctors. The room had gone still when the sight caught everyone’s eyes.
