The rising, p.3
The Rising, page 3
part #3 of The Onis Chronicles Series
“Methought I was gunna’ drown! Can ye imagine somethin’ so ludicrous as drownin’ way up in the sky like that?! Twould be the most ridiculous place ta drown and way ta die if ye ask me.” Pausing for a moment, the dwarf glanced back at her dragon, Astryma, saying in a distant thought as she pondered, “I wonders what else ‘as changed that we not even knowin’ yet.”
“Yes,” Salyaman agreed. “I am curious as well. It is something we will need to explore when we have more time, but I believe it will have to wait for now.” He motioned his gaze toward the sky, prudent of how much daylight remained for their excursion to the human city.
Turning his sight to Davion, Salyaman continued, “What is your plan for approaching Mira? Do you know who we will need to speak with?”
Davion took a deep breath in contemplation before telling the group, “Lady Laila, Salyaman, and Glondora can come with me, but the drow will have to wait here with the dragons.”
“I am going as well,” Nikolean snapped at the human.
“He will not be welcome in Mira,” Davion pressed to Laila.
“I will take my chances with the humans,” the drow reiterated.
“Niko,” Laila spoke softly, concernedly looking up into his strange, unfamiliar eyes. “Perhaps Davion is right, and it would be safer if you wait for us out here, at least until we can gain safe passage for you.”
Nikolean was doubting Davion’s motivation for wanting to leave him here. Even though he speculated that being alone amongst four dragons would somehow be safer for him than approaching the human city, he had no intention of doing so.
“The humans do not frighten me,” he attested, glowering at Davion. “I will accompany you to the gates and beyond if able. Do not fear for me, my lady.”
Nodding at Nikolean, her stomach in knots for him, Laila turned back to Davion and declared, “He will come with us.”
Davion sneered, “Fine by me, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. Though the decision is yours, of course, Lady Laila.” He gave her an exaggerated bow, making her uncomfortable, before he continued, “The dragons should stay near and be prepared in case the mages insist on seeing them as our allies for themselves.”
“I agree,” Salyaman stated. “They should be safe here. I believe it is close enough for us to reach them if needed and to keep them abreast of the situation.” Glancing briefly at the sky again, he continued, “We only have a few hours remaining of daylight. Let us leave for Mira now.”
Everyone agreed and said their farewells to their dragons, Glondora nuzzling the Blue’s snout.
Wrapping her arms tightly around the drow, Laila held Nikolean lovingly for a moment, mumbling into his chest, “Are you certain about this? I don’t want them to hurt you or throw you in a dungeon as the elves did.”
When she pulled back, he smiled down at her. “I’m sure it will all be fine. Just do whatever it is needs doing, my love. Besides, if they try to hurt me, I’ll just have Tury storm the place and rescue me.”
Letting out a snort, Turathyl glared her onyx-black eyes at the drow, unamused. ‘I hope you have a better plan than that if you’re going to insist on getting yourself into trouble,’ the Silver grumbled while he smirked back at her.
The ancient dragons rested their masses against the hard ground after the cohorts finished saying their goodbyes. Meanwhile, the elves, drow, dwarf, and human all mounted their steeds.
Davion was eager to reach the city and gave Helna, his brown mare with its stunning white mane, a swift kick as he called out, “Iret!” The mare took off in a fast gallop, heading north toward Mira with his command, and the others all followed after them.
Although nervous about what awaited Nikolean, Laila was anxious to discover another new city and civilization.
CHAPTER TWO
Accommodations
It was mid-afternoon when they neared the human city, and Laila was beguiled visiting another new town. She was curious how it might differ from what she had witnessed of the elves, dwarves, and dark elves thus far. While they slowly approached the eastern gates with its iron portcullis fully raised, she admired the tall parapets at the corners of the surrounding stone walls. There were guards keeping watch in the towers above and in the gateway below, holding their posts as they squinted at the strange dynamic of the approaching herd and their riders.
Mira was perched next to the alluring and glistening Miran Lake that expanded as far north as Laila could see. Tips of tall boat masts peeked over the far embankment, and Laila could hear the calls of seabirds overhead. The elf maiden was eager to see inside, to discover what marvels lay beyond the walls. She was always astonished to learn what amazing things the two-leggeds were capable of creating after having grown up in the forest with her wolf family and wolf-god mother, Lupé Caelis.
Upon seeing the unusually diverse group approaching, the guards looked on them rather alarmed with their hands on the hilts of their weapons. It was only somewhat strange to see dwarves coming and going from their town, but elves did not commonly travel into their territory past the Trader’s Post, except on official business. And, although seeing them all traveling together piqued their interest, they were most alarmed by the phenomenon at the rear of the group. Seeing a mighty charcoal-gray steed with jet-black hair and blood-red eyes with a darkly shrouded figure atop its back left little to the imagination of what may be hiding beneath the cloak.
As the comrades came upon the gate, the guards swiftly drew weapons, their suspicions growing along with their confusion of the spectacle. They were sporting armor of the human nation’s navy blue and light gray military colors and stern in their appearance as they snarled their lips at the group apprehensively.
“Halt!” one guard with a thick salt-and-pepper beard ordered. He held out his hand in command while brandishing a readied sword in the other. “You at the back! Reveal your face!”
Her heart stopping, Laila looked queasily over at Nikolean and watched as he slowly pulled his ebony hood back, trying not to make any sudden movements. His long white hair and dark-ashen skin with pointed ears were unveiled as he let the hood fall to his shoulders. The guards were aghast at the dark elf before them, their suspicions confirmed. It was the first time any of them bore witness to a drow approaching the city in broad daylight via the city gate’s entrance—as opposed to catching them gaining access alongside rats and other vermin in the dead of night—and it threw them for a loop.
“What is the meaning of this?!” the same guard blared. “Drow are not welcome here!”
Davion rode Helna out before the group and told them casually, “We seek refuge for the night before we are to Roco to meet with King Lyson. My companions and I are on a mission of peace to bring the races of Onis together.”
Glaring over the peculiar assortment apprehensively, the guard asked with a furrowed brow, “Is this some sort of joke? You expect me to believe this drow is on a mission of peace?” He glanced around at the other guards, who all looked as perplexed as he, and then continued, “It is more likely that you all are bringing him here against your will for some other treacherous purpose of his devising.”
Alighting from Merimer, Laila stepped confidently toward the guard, her head held high and firmly as she said, “I will attest to his honor. My name is Lady Lailalanthelus Dula’Quoy, daughter of Lady Leonallan Dula’Quoy, a royal of Othsuda Theora, and I will vouch for the dark elf.”
Salyaman was readying to speak to his own royal family connection when the guard smirked at her, then scoffed, “I am afraid that your elven lineage lacks pull around here when it comes to allowing drow to roam our streets freely.”
“And what would allow the drow entry?” the stern elf prince asked.
Humphing, the guard told him, “A miracle.” He took a deep breath while examining them and stated, “You have caught me in a good mood, so I will give you two options; he can turn around and go back the way he came, or he can stay in our special accommodations until you leave.”
Looking at Nikolean with naïvely hopeful eyes, Laila didn’t quite grasp what they were implying by “special accommodations,” believing it to be somewhat more pleasant than they intended. Although Nikolean knew precisely what they were implying, he dismounted from Midnight and approached the gate, his hands passively raised in the air above his head. Before reaching the guards, he stopped before Laila, staring down into her eyes with his hands still raised.
‘He is being taken prisoner,’ Laila heard Turathyl mind-send to her from afar. ‘He doesn’t want you to worry or react. Just go along with it until you depart or find someone you can speak to on his behalf.’
‘I understand,’ she sent back, maintaining a stoic expression while looking deeply back into Nikolean’s eyes. ‘Please let him know I will do what I can to get him out of there. Tell him I love him.’
‘He knows,’ the dragon replied, sending her affections.
“Let’s get on with it then,” Nikolean said, turning to the guards and smiling slyly as he approached them.
While two guards began binding the drow’s hands behind his back, Nikolean stared back upon Laila with confidence and love, his expression meant to reassure her that he would be fine. Although Laila wasn’t as confident, she did as he requested by not objecting. She clenched her jaw, resisting her urges to intervene as they turned him away and commanded him to “move it!”
Davion couldn’t help but enjoy the moment, witnessing as they shoved the drow repeatedly beyond the gate. It was reminiscent of how he himself had been treated when he first encountered the dark elves. They all watched as Nikolean was taken to a daunting-looking structure just past the entry until he was out of their sight.
When Davion looked over at Laila, concerned for her reaction, he was surprised to see her calm and collected.
Perceiving the rest of the group as harmless, the guards stepped aside for them to proceed through the gates.
In order to deter unwanted attention from the civilians, Davion quickly dismounted, instructing Salyaman and Glondora to do the same, and they obliged willingly.
In the spirit of things, Laila forced a wide smile as they advanced past the gates. While they proceeded into the city, she tried to stay optimistic about their situation, mentally assuring herself that Nikolean would rejoin them soon. Upon seeing all the busy humans going about their day in a hustle, she was quickly overcome with excitement, allowing some of her concern for Nikolean to be momentarily alleviated.
There were what appeared to be shops lining the main road as horse carts and Miranians went about their business. A man stood outside a doorway shouting orders from patrons that were standing in the streets. He was a large fellow wearing an apron with blood smeared over it, and someone inside was tossing him brown paper packages tied up with string. Laila watched the ritual with amusement as the man then exchanged the packages for coins with the people outside, repeating the process continually.
“That’s the butcher,” Davion said with a grin. “Where people buy their meat.”
Laila smiled and nodded her understanding before being distracted by a heavenly aroma coming from the opposite side of the street wafting out from an open door. The windows of that shop were displaying things similar to the grand dessert spread she had enjoyed during the dwarven feast in Gortax with King Brakdrath. On the one side of the door, she spotted cakes, cookies, and pastries, while the other side was full of various breads, including a loaf half as tall as herself. An older man with graying hair then strode out, wearing an apron similar to the butcher’s, but it was covered in a light tan powder. With hands at his waist, the man glared around at the crowd. He appeared quite tired, hot, and a bit sour, which Laila found curious considering he was surrounded by sweets.
“The baker,” Davion said quietly in her ear.
At the corner of the block, a young man with a long wiry mustache was sitting on a stool, dipping both ends of a long, braided cotton cord into a barrel while holding them separated out from the middle. After bobbing it a few times, he would hold it up, wait, then repeat the process. The elf maiden stared at dozens of the strings all hanging in a row over a pole, wondering what the oddly familiar objects were.
Davion chuckled slightly as he saw the skewed expression across Laila’s face. With a wink and a grin, he said, “The candlestick maker.”
Laila smiled, recognizing the candles now, and continued to gaze around at all the busy people. A few eyes glanced at the newcomers, but only for a split second before going on their way. No one seemed surprised or alarmed by their presence, nor interested at all. It was strange to Laila, the complete lack of attention from them after having been a spectacle or declared enemies in the other settlements they had visited.
While they traveled down the main road, beyond the sight of the guards, Laila watched the busy people studiously. She was intrigued by how many different shapes, sizes, and skin tones the humans came in. It reminded her a little of the various pigments of dark elves she had seen in the Du Noir Forest.
Not paying attention to where she was walking, the elf maiden was suddenly engulfed in a dust cloud, and she began coughing, wafting her hands before her as a shopkeeper battered out a rug in the air with the bristled end of a broom.
“Watch where you’re going, elf!” the lady hollered with a hoarse voice at Laila as she shook the twigs of her besom at her.
Davion grabbed the elf maiden’s arm, nodding apologetically to the shopkeeper as he pulled her away. Although embarrassed, Laila deemed that, while the Miranians may not be the friendliest, at least they weren’t trying to kill them as the dark elves had.
Following Davion, who seemed to know where he was going, the group led the mounts down several streets before stopping in front of an inn. Its white-wooden doors creaked as they swung outward when a man emerged from within. The man glanced briefly at the odd group hovering about, but then hastily continued on his way.
Davion looked nostalgically at the sign above the door that read, “Miran Lake Inn,” recalling the last time he had been here with his uncle before they left for the Trader’s Post. Clearing his throat, he turned his attention to his companions as he instructed, “Salyaman, you and I will see if the inn has a couple of rooms we can secure for the night.” He then turned his attention to the adjacent stables and added, “Glondora and Laila, you can stable the mounts over there.” He handed Helna’s reins to the dwarf. “When you’re through, meet us inside the inn to discuss what’s next.”
“And what about Nikolean?” Laila asked. She was pleasantly surprised to see this take-charge attitude from Davion, but was anxious for the dark elf to rejoin them.
Sighing, Davion replied, “I suppose that will be one of the things to discuss.”
“Come, m’lady,” Glondora said, leading Helna and Orbek towards the stables. “I be sure our Niko be doin’ jus’ fine fer nows.”
Laila took Friet’s reins from Salyaman and led the elkah and Nikolean’s horse, Midnight, behind the dwarf and the other mounts while Merimer followed her loyally.
After entering the musty stables, Glondora spoke with the stablehand about the steeds' extended accommodations to work out an arrangement.
“I’ll not have any drow steeds in here,” the young man told them both firmly upon seeing Midnight’s red eyes glowing softly in the dim lighting of the barn. “They’re mighty dangerous, I hear.”
Running her hand over Midnight’s muscular neck, Laila connected with the dark elf horse, sending it calming thoughts. “I can assure you he will behave,” she told the man confidently.
“‘Ere,” Glondora said, pressing a gatlin coin into the stablehand’s palm. “Fer yer troubles.”
Looking over the coin for a moment, the man then nodded, saying, “Alright then, it can stay. But if it causes any trouble, I’m putting it out.”
After thanking him, Laila calmly led the drow steed and Salyaman’s elkah into their accommodations. She dropped off Friet first into an empty, clean stall, then took Midnight into an adjacent stall and walked him around. Before she left, she stroked the magnificent animal’s snout while staring into his glowing red eyes. They reminded her of Nikolean’s eyes before the transformation.
As the horse whinnied at her, Laila sighed softly, giving him a half-smile as she said, “I’m sorry, boy, but it’s just for now. Try to be good for the humans until we return, okay?” After a final pat, and a nicker from the steed, she stepped out of the stall, closing and latching it behind her. Merimer was waiting patiently for her, but she could sense the anxiety coming from the hybrid.
“It’s alright, girl,” she told the beautiful unicorn-elkah while escorting her to the next stall. Merimer stepped inside willingly and turned to face Laila as the elf maiden mind-sent, ‘I will be back for you soon.’
Merimer snorted her understanding, and Laila joined Glondora in settling the others.
“I hate to leave them for so long,” she told the dwarf after all were secured.
“They’ll be fine, m’lady. The lad promised me ta give ‘em plenty o’ exercise and care ‘tils we can come back fer ‘em. Says there be another stable wit’ a paddock on the other side they take the ones that be stayin’ awhiles.” Looking in the direction of where the stablehand was out of sight, she added boisterously, “And the lad better keep ‘is word fer all that coin me be puttin’ up fer ‘em too!”
Making their way back across the way to the inn, Laila couldn’t help but feel melancholy over having to leave most of the steeds behind, but she knew it was necessary to benefit from the dragons’ accelerated speed. Upon entering through the white swinging doors, they spotted Davion and Salyaman standing against a wall near the entrance.
As they approached, Davion announced, “We’ve acquired some rooms for tonight. Are the mounts all settled?”
“Aye, lad,” Glondora told him. “All settled.”
