Fall of the Elves, page 13
part #1 of Elves of Asarton Series
I lazed on the soft grass, soaking up the midday sun. “Rana?”
Mm?
“The prince has given the ring to lots of different people, and none of them have dreamed of Zariah.”
I turned my head to bring her into view. She winked at me, an awfully strange sight from a dragon. Of course nobody else can have the dreams. You think I would allow just anybody to dream of my elf?
“But you didn’t know me when I started having the dreams.”
Of course I didn’t. But ever since you told me of your dreams, I’ve been working on ways to block them.
“You didn’t block me.”
I like you.
Warmth bloomed in the pit of my stomach. She’d been saying nice things to me a lot lately. The dragon had praised me to the Sister Moons and back when I’d told her about using her training on those two soldiers at the museum.
I’d asked her a few days ago why she never asked me of my dreams. Her response? Something along the lines of: I was there for everything I care to know about. Besides which, you saw things only through my elf’s eyes, and she had an awfully skewed view of the world. No, I will leave her memories to her. And you, I suppose.
My eyes followed Rana as she lifted her head to scent the air. “What is it?”
The winds are changing, the dragon said. The time for secrecy is almost past. She glanced back at me as if she’d forgotten I was there. They’re looking for you. You should head back now. And be prepared. It will soon be time to use your training.
I didn’t know how Rana knew, but when I returned to the manor there was an urgent summons from the prince.
“Awfully bossy fellow, isn’t she?” Maria asked, fanning herself with the summons.
“That’s royalty for you,” I said. “Self-entitled bunch, the lot of them.”
“Now, Tessa,” Maria covered my mouth with the paper. “You’ve met one royal person in your life. You can’t possibly decide they’re all like that just off a few meetings.”
I thought of the silver-eyed prince that occupied my dreams. The moment stretched on far too long. “No. I suppose not.”
Instead of acting upon the urgency of the summons, I sat down with my sister and Julia for lunch—Herlon was too busy meeting with somebody about business to join us—and thought about more interesting things. The way the snow melts under rain, diamonds, chocolate or blueberry scones? I spent the rest of the early afternoon curled up on the lounge with a nice book, listening to the lulling tunes of Julia’s voice as she practiced her singing.
It was all very relaxing.
Eventually, I decided that I’d pushed my luck enough for one day. I headed up to my room, calling to Angelique. She brought me a selection of the clothes I’d ordered recently. Spending my nights in the light clothes the elves wore had made my days stuffed into layers and layers of petticoats and thick fabrics unbearable. So, I’d taken matters into my own hands.
Herlon was just happy my new wardrobe was so cheap. With so little layers required, I’d barely put a dent in his coffers.
“That one,” I said, pointing at a dress in crushed violet. With no frills or outlandish designs, it was a bit over-the-top by elven standards, but incredibly modest by human standards. Although it did reach my ankles, I’d ordered a few that came to my knees for when I gained the courage to wear them. It had caused quite the scandal at the dressmakers. I had no doubt it would leak soon enough. Not that I had a problem with it.
I had, however, had the decency to tell Julia—she preferred to deal with scandals before they erupted.
Per my orders, Angelique left most of my hair down, braiding strands of diamonds into different sections. A woman of my class having her hair down in public would be another great scandal for the masses. Although I had greatly enjoyed beating those guards up, I thought it would be best to assert my status with glittering hair adornments, lest I be mistaken for the working-class and was barred entry to the palace.
I just hoped I wasn’t around when Herlon saw the bill for the hairpieces.
Admiring my reflection in the mirror, I decided that the elves had the right idea when it came to dressing. It had taken a fraction of the time it normally did to get presentable, which was always an ordeal in itself. From what I could gather from my dreams, elves only bothered wearing elaborate dresses and glistening jewels when there was an event on. Not for everyday life.
There was a skip in my step as I strolled out into the yard and told Gerard to take his time getting the carriage ready. And then, on second thoughts, maybe I’d take the wagon. I did not wish to be cooped up in a stuffy carriage on such a beautiful day.
And so, an hour later when I pulled up outside the palace, it was in a servant’s wagon, led by a handsome stallion.
The guards didn’t seem to quite know what to do. Was I a poor noble? Or a servant who’d stolen some diamonds. However, when Gerard spoke to the announcer and he shouted my status and title, the guards snapped to attention so quickly I wouldn’t have been surprised if a few pulled a muscle.
I was taken to the prince. He seemed to have lost weight since our last meeting, his cheeks sunken and shadows resting under his eyes. Perhaps I could have summoned some sense of pity for the man if this whole situation hadn’t been his own doing. “Where have you been?” his voice called out before the servants had even led me into the room. “And what are you wearing?”
“An absolute pleasure to see you too, Your Highness.”
“It didn’t work,” he said, ignoring me and gesturing to where the ring lay on a gold embossed velvet pillow. It was receiving better treatment in the palace than I’d ever given it.
“That is a surprise. I can’t say I saw that one coming.”
“You will wear it again now and go to sleep. If you dream, then I must concede that it truly is only you who can have the dreams.”
“I will wear it now,” I said. “But I most certainly will not go to sleep just yet.”
“And why not,” the prince said through gritted teeth.
“Well, for one, it’s the middle of the afternoon. I’m not tired. And secondly, I can’t say I care very much for your tone.”
“If you’re not tired then you can have a sleeping draught,” he snapped. “As for my tone, you do realise that this is quite literally the only hope we have of defeating the ragtok?”
“What? Invading a dead woman’s most private memories? I truly don’t know what you wish to find from these dreams. They’re just snippets of her life. Milestones everybody goes through.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. First love, first kiss, first fight with a friend, first… dragon hatching for you…” I trailed off. “Okay, not exactly normal milestones, but normal for her.”
“But you’ve barely scratched the surface. How old is she currently in your dreams?”
“Twenty-two. I think. Or twenty-three. Something like that.”
“Right, and she was… how old was she when she died?”
I’m glad I didn’t have a number. It’d be unbearable to count down. “Nobody knows. Nobody knew her exact age. I could probably work it out given what I know, and the timeline humans have, but quite honestly I don’t see the point.”
“Listen, Tessa—”
“Countess.”
“Sorry?”
“I’m the wife of a count, making me a countess. You’d do well to use my proper title when addressing me, Your Highness.”
“Right, sorry. Countess, the truth is we don’t know whether or not these dreams will be helpful to us. But quite frankly we have no other options and we are running out of time. We have had no contact with Cetoria in months, the king and queen of Varal have already arrived, and King Jarvin of Lugon is arriving this evening. The summit begins tomorrow and you are the only hope we have so far of forming some sort of plan—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down,” I said, holding up my hands. “Or take a breath or something. Look, I’ll dream if you want me to dream, but I’m not telling you anything unless it’s important.”
“Very well.” He drew in a deep breath and ran a hand through his rumpled hair. “Thank you for your cooperation. We have prepared a room for you so you do not have to return to your manor. Do you need a sleeping draught?”
“No, thank you. I will not be drugged.” I swept out of the room. An hour later, I returned. “Actually, come to think of it, a sleeping draught might not be such a bad idea.”
The prince propped his chin on his palm as if it took great effort for his head to stay upright and called for two sleeping draughts. I looked at him and asked. “Two?”
“You’re not the only one who has trouble sleeping.”
The draught would only help me sleep a few hours, the maid said. Prince’s orders. He wanted me to report back to him this evening so he’d have something prepared for the summit tomorrow.
And the draught was strong, I’d give the kitchen that. I was out before my head had even hit the pillow.
I woke up a few hours later, well rested but dream-free. I found Prince Aidric in his study. The shadows under his eyes had softened somewhat, the sleeping draught he’d taken had obviously worked for him.
“It didn’t work,” I said.
He looked up, eyes wild. “What?”
“Okay, calm down,” I said, pushing him back into his seat. “You’re going to burst something. I’m just as confused as you are. Listen, I think it was the sleeping draught. I think I have to fall asleep organically. So, I’ll just go for a run or something. Help out in the kitchen. Peel potatoes.”
He quirked a brow at me. “Peel potatoes?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just read one of these books you’ve got here. That ought to send me straight to sleep.”
“Hilarious,” he said drily. “But if you think it would help, by all means.”
“I’ll leave it as a last resort.”
I was almost out of the room when his voice reached me. “This isn’t a story, Tessa.”
I looked back, ready to tell him again to use my title, when I saw him. He was slumped back in his chair, looking more vulnerable than I’d ever seen him. His shirt was rumpled, his hair a mess. He didn’t look like a prince right now. He looked like a man. Ordinary, defeated. His voice, when he spoke, was heavy with weariness. “I’ve done my research on you. I know how you love to while away your days buried in stories of a time when magic was real and people rode through the skies on the backs of dragons. And it doesn’t take a scholar to realise why you do it. Your own life is dull. Your husband is embroiled in an affair with his maid, you have no family near you and, as far as I can tell, no friends. I don’t mean to be harsh, but I need you to understand. What you have now, dreaming of Zariah, it must be like a dream come true for you. Finally, you can see yourself in that world. Lose yourself in the magic. You can forget about this world, this life.”
His words stung, not least because there was an element of truth to them. I cared very little that Herlon did not see me as his wife, but the other things… perhaps I was lonely.
“The elves are dead,” he said when I stayed silent. “They are gone, and they aren’t coming back. Your dreams are just that. Dreams. This, right now, the threat we face… this is real.”
The prince’s words stayed with me long after I’d left the study. In an attempt to tire myself out, I spent the afternoon helping out the laundry maids. I removed the diamonds from my hair and though the colour of my dress showed it was expensive, it was so plain nobody gave me more than two glances. One to look at the colour of my dress, another to confirm I was wearing nothing that sparkled.
When night rolled in, I lay down but his words stayed, turning around and around in my head until I felt as if I could scream. In an attempt to banish the prince from my mind, I had a servant bring me the driest book he could find—a ledger on the harvest from sixty years ago.
I was asleep in no time.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
We’d been travelling for two and a half days, when the Varalian Kingdom was finally in sight.
“Hello,” I practiced in my best human. I’d been brushing up on the language non-stop over the last few days, dragging up memories from lessons when I was younger. Torren was wonderfully patient with me. There was something special, the way he had switched between many elven and human dialects, interpreting even poetry, and I knew that Asarton was lucky to have him as its future. I remembered more than I’d thought, and by now I was more or less fluent. “It is lovely to meet you. I am…” I turned to Torren, returning to Elvish when I asked, “Is riddarin the same in human?”
“In Meldaic,” he corrected me. “And they don’t have an equivalent so they simply use our word.”
“Ah, okay.”
I see one, Rana shouted, so suddenly that I jumped and would have fallen had Torren not grabbed me. A human.
I strained to see and, yes, in the distance a blurred figure was walking on the borders of the kingdom.
Calm yourself, hatchling, Bulveyon said, flying abreast of us. Do try not to make a fool of yourself in front of the humans.
Rana bristled, thoroughly chastised. She was quite taken with the older dragon. So much so I’d had to right her a few times when she’d strayed off course, so busy had she been with watching him.
I glanced over at Widriel. His sister was sitting in front of him, the both of them watching the human kingdom, too.
“Niyashe,” I called, wanting more insight into the woman behind the whispers. “Have you ever seen a human?”
“Many times,” she called back. “They are strange creatures.”
I turned back, barely able to suppress the excitement that bubbled through me. Many humans pointed at the sky and shouted in elation as we passed. Human children ran along the streets, struggling to keep up. Rana slowed for them, until Bulveyon barked at her to pick up her pace.
Soon enough, we were landing. The human king and his young daughter were waiting on the steps of their palace, along with a number of other humans I assumed were advisors. Or ministers as Torren had called them.
Torren waited for me to hop down before following behind. I watched him carefully. He’d been a little wobbly yesterday, though he seemed fine now as he strode toward the royal pair. I vaguely heard my prince greet King Remes and Crown Princess Rela in human—Meldaic, but I was too distracted by the crowd of humans milling about to pay much attention.
I stared in fascination at them. They were the same as us, yet different. Their skin had none of the vitality that radiated from our skin. And many of their faces had small, red lumps on them. Elves were, by nature, lean creatures. But the humans were a variety of different sizes; some had larger bellies, some were rather flat. Some of the human women had bones visibly poking through their skin. And the clothes they wore. Layers upon layers of what looked to be heavy material. The eyes of their men lingered on my legs and bare feet, and for the first time I began to feel self-conscious. Rana must have felt it too, for she shifted and glared at the humans, effectively ending their staring.
The most fascinating thing, however, was the old ones. I’d never seen the effects of time to that extent. Their hair seemed to change colour as they grew—the older they looked, the more white their hair held. I tugged ruefully at my own silver locks. I loved my hair, but I wished I could change my hair colour. Even King Remes had grey sprinkled in with his brown hair. Although, some of the old men didn’t even have hair. Their skin seemed to wrinkle, too, which I didn’t understand. It was like a grape that had been left out in the sun too long.
So strange, the humans, yet they held a transient beauty that my people couldn’t understand. They didn’t live long, and some seemed to revere and cherish their imperfection. They wore their struggles on their skin.
While their hair seemed to vary only between the shades of blonde to black, their complexion was fascinating to behold. Unlike my people, who—with the exception of Golden Garlen—were pale, some of the humans seemed to have been touched by the sun itself, their skin varying between the paleness of the elves to a light brown. Not so much as I knew the humans of Cetoria to be—their desert climate leaving their skin quite dark, if the pictures I’d seen in books were true. But still, it was a strange sight indeed to see how the sun had darkened their skin.
I snapped back to attention after Torren said our names: “—Riddarin Zariah and the Esteemed Rana.”
I nodded, again, distracted. For just as Torren introduced us, the human princess brushed her hair behind her ears. Her ears. The tips were rounded, something I’d never seen before. I stared in fascination, wanting nothing more than to touch them. But that might be a little rude, so I settled for a smile in response to the cold look the princess threw me.
The princess herself was a conundrum. She was so short. Had Torren not told me she was in her twenties, I would have thought her a child.
“Zariah and Rana have never seen humans before, Your Highness,” Torren explained. “They mean nothing by their stares. They are simply curious.”
Soon, the greetings were finished and King Remes invited Torren in for discussions. Princess Rela offered to show us around. Torren said I should expect this. As elves, humans always had the highest-ranking humans available deal with us.
Several men and women, who seemed to be attendants of some kind, followed behind at a short distance as Princess Rela led Rana and me away. Niyashe stayed with her brother and his dragon. I wasn’t worried. If we needed her, which was doubtful, she’d be able to get to us swiftly. Honestly, she could probably see through walls.
“Are you educated in politics?” Princess Rela asked, eyes shifting nervously to Rana.
I shook my head. “Not particularly. Being a riddarin, I had to take lessons on the basics, in case we were caught in a difficult situation when we were amongst humans. But it’s not my strong suit, no.”
