Fall of the Elves, page 23
part #1 of Elves of Asarton Series
But she wasn’t there.
I stood, looking around for the ancient dragon. I finally spied her some distance away, laying at the edge of a precipice, watching the sunset. I made my way over to her, leaving the boys to tussle in the dirt.
“Rana,” I said.
The dragon tilted her head, acknowledging me, but said nothing.
“You’re quiet.”
Nothing. I cleared my throat, knowing what I needed to say. “Rana, I feel I need to apologise for my behaviour these past days. I have treated you very disrespectfully and there is no excuse for that.”
My apology was a lot more formal than I’d expected it to be. Usually, I had such an easy relationship with the dragon. I feared my behaviour over the past few days might have destroyed that relationship completely.
Rana was silent for a long time, head turned toward the setting sun. Just when I was giving up hope, the dragon finally spoke.
The last time I saw my elf, she said she hated me. And she had every right to. I betrayed her. It was for her own safety, of course. But I suppose in the end it didn’t matter. She’s gone, now. And once all this is over, I will join her.
I felt like crying as I gazed up at the dragon, her sorrow still as fresh today as it was when she first lost Zariah. Time had faded none of her wounds.
Your behaviour recently, your anger… It isn’t you, Tessa. It is my elf. You live in her memories every night, and the ring you wear stores that which you have not yet witnessed. It was inevitable that her emotions would mix with yours. I just did not expect for them to be so strong. I suppose, until your outbursts, I did not realise how deep her feelings ran. How strong her hatred must have been to consume you so completely.
I didn’t know what to say. Truthfully, I didn’t feel there was anything to say. The only person that had any right to speak in this situation was Zariah, and she was long dead.
So, instead of speaking, I placed a hand on the dragon’s neck, her scales cool and smooth under my fingers.
Together we watched the sun slip below the horizon.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
She picked up a pot of gold paint and urged me to close my eyes. The soft bristles of the brush whispered over my eyelids, leaving behind the heavy feel of paint. The rich, buttery aroma of nariseld flowers tickled my sense, wafting from the pot.
Mama was crying the whole time she painted my face.
“You look so beautiful,” she sobbed, rubbing at the tears that streaked her cheeks.
“Mama,” I said, smiling softly. “You must stop before I start crying.”
“No, no, don’t do that,” she urged, making an effort to stop her tears. “Come, let me finish.”
Her sniffly nose punctuated the silence.
They are almost here, Rana said.
My eyes sprung open and Mama hissed when I smudged the paint. I made to head for the door when Mama stopped me. “Uh, uh. Not so fast. I will finish readying you before you see anybody.”
“Yes, Mama,” I said patiently, retaking my seat.
After what felt like an eternity, Mama finally pronounced me ready. Before she let me go, however, she insisted on creating a portrait.
That, of course, roused Rana from her nap. The great dragon lumbered over, fussing at me to ensure she was showcased as splendidly as possible. Finally, she deemed us ready. Mama stood before us, eyes closed. Hands pressed together, she murmured under her breath. Gradually, the words become louder, repeated in a simple chant. Wind whipped at Mama’s golden-brown hair, stirring the room into a frenzy. Not a whisper touched me or Rana, however. Instead, it cocooned us in a soft bubble. As Mama chanted, a soft white light grew all around, until it was nearly blinding us with its brilliance. At once, everything blew away from us, coalescing into a shimmering ball that hovered before Mama.
Mama directed the light to an oaken wall in my room, the magic obeying her commands. Another brilliant burst of light—tinged blue this time—that left an image when it faded. Not a portrait as humans did it, as ours had colours that shone so brilliantly they were beyond human perception.
I stepped forward to more clearly examine the painting. It was so lifelike it almost seemed to move. I knew it was the magic that brought the portrait to life. The false background Mama had added showed rustling trees and luscious grass. Rana curved around me as she often did in portraits, sapphire eyes glinting with hidden fire. Her scales an array of purples: soft lavender, a deeper mauve, a dark lilac. Some scales were so deep a purple they almost seemed black.
Truthfully, I heard Rana describe her own magnificence enough that I didn’t need a painting to show me it. Instead, I focused on myself. On the wedding gown I wore. A dazzling silver piece embroidered with golden runes taken from ancient texts that signified happiness and long life. The sleeves were long, tight to my elbows and then falling until they almost brushed the ground. And of course I had a train, which I’d stolen from human designs. Though mine wasn’t quite so extravagant as Rela’s had been when Torren and I had attended her wedding. Four people had been needed to handle hers.
Mama had painted the traditional wedding designs onto my face, though mine were gold and silver as opposed to the blue and purple that were usually used. I was, after all, marrying a prince. A thick, golden line ran from temple to temple, over the bridge of my nose and across my eyes. Mask-like. My eyes were more striking than usual—whether it had been the effect of the black coat on my lashes or my excitement was debatable.
My lips were painted the same shimmering gold, though the rest of the designs that decorated my chin and cheeks were silver. Runes signifying long life, happiness, prosperity. My forehead was bare to make way for the silver diadem that rested there, boasting a brilliant sapphire. It was the same one Torren had gifted me on the day he’d proposed. My hair had been braided in parts, left to fall freely down my back to my waist in a cascading sheet of silver.
The sword Torren had gifted me buckled around my waist, safely in its sheath. I would take it with me everywhere, even to my binding. To abandon it would be tantamount to abandoning my love for my prince.
Normally, jewellery was not worn on this day, apart from the diadem. However, I’d made an exception for the ring Torren had gifted me. Rela had explained its significance in greater detail in one of our letters, and I’d sworn to never remove it.
“My baby is all grown up.” Mama began to sob again, wrapping me in her warm embrace.
“Mama,” I complained while returning her hug.
A knock sounded and I turned my head as best I could with Mama clinging to me.
Enter, Rana said.
A moment later, the door banged open and my friends poured in. Jusedoral, Garlen and Husi headed the charge, while Valeria and Niyashe followed at a more dignified pace.
Upon seeing me, Jusedoral immediately burst into tears and flung herself at me. I staggered under the weight of both her and Mama. Finally, when I felt as if my legs would give out, Garlen relieved me of his sobbing wife while Valeria and Husi untangled me from my mother’s tight embrace.
“You do look lovely,” Valeria said, taking my hands in hers. “I’m a bit old-fashioned myself, and when I heard you were betrothed I was somewhat… hesitant. You are both still so very young. You’re only twenty-four, Zariah. But seeing the two of you together… I knew there could be nobody else for you. Although I do not expect for this to interfere with your training. Just because you are about to become a princess does not mean you will be exempt from drills.”
I laughed. “I would not dream of slacking from training. I would be much too scared.”
“Good. Ferlon sends his well-wishes. He’s a bit too large to fit inside your home, but he will see you at the feast afterwards.”
Attending Rela’s wedding, I’d been shocked at how public it was. The betrothed couple were often forced to invite people they didn’t even like. That was one human tradition I’d had no intention of adopting. Elves were different. There was a feast afterwards to celebrate the newlyweds, but the ceremony itself was private. None but the betrothed couple were usually present before the Mother when their souls were bound together.
“The Sister Moons grow close to meeting,” Niyashe said. “Midnight fast approaches.”
I nodded and sniffed, suddenly feeling a little teary myself. Garlen came over to wrap me in his embrace, followed by Husi. The two men said very little other than well-wishes, though I did not miss the glossiness of their eyes. It seemed even they were not completely immune to the tears that so often plagued those involved in ceremonies such as these.
Niyashe did not hug me. She and I did not have that kind of a relationship. After failing to protect me from the ragtok when we’d visited Varal for the first time—something that she was not at fault for in any way—she’d sworn herself to me. Even though she was a part of the Royal Guard, given my involvement with the prince, Queen Evarae had allowed Niyashe to guard me. Though it was not absolutely necessary yet, as I rarely left Asarton apart from training drills with Valeria, she did come with me when I visited Rela.
“Thank you, everybody, for coming to see me off,” I said, trying in vain not to burst into tears and ruin all of Mama’s careful work. “I’ll see you at the feast.”
Mama and Jusedoral hugged me once more, still a pair of sobbing messes. My friends were forced to pull them off again. Hopefully, they’d be more lucid at the feast. I climbed onto Rana’s back, the dragon much too large to fit through the doorway. I waved a hand, willing the rock walls to part to reveal the glittering sky. With the well-wishes of Mama and my friends at my back, Rana leapt forward into the night.
The ride seemed longer than it had ever been, while at the same time it flew by faster than I could keep up with. The wind threaded through my hair, teasing the ends playfully. Rana glided over the surface of a lake. The edge of one wing trailed ever-so-slightly in the water, causing ripples to fan outwards, distorting the image of a diamond-studded sky the water had mirrored.
Finally, we reached Mother. Rana landed, lowering herself so I could dismount and walk through the Sacred Gates. Although traditionally it was just the two elves involved in the ceremony, it was different for a riddarin. The bond between dragon and riddarin was so great that nothing could separate them, not even death. The point of a soul-binding ceremony was to give every single part of your soul to your love. But dragon and riddarin were part of each other’s souls. As such, during a soul-binding ceremony, it was imperative that the dragon of the riddarin was present. For it would be impossible to complete the ceremony without them.
Just before I stepped through the Sacred Gates, Rana stretched a wing out, stopping me. I looked up at the dragon. “What is it?”
Zariah, in a few moments you will tie your soul to Torren.
“You don’t miss much, do you?”
Hush. I’m attempting to be heartfelt. I spent many minutes preparing this speech and you will listen to it in its entirety.
“Of course. Far be it for me to ruin minutes of hard work.”
Thank you. Zariah, I met you when you were a few days shy of your fifth birthday. I knew you were mine from the moment you were born, of course, but it took some time before I deemed you acceptable. I waited centuries for your birth. My egg was one of the oldest. Many thought I was dead, that the egg had gone bad. Both my parents had long since perished before I even thought of hatching. What does that tell you?
“You have high standards?”
I’d meant it as a joke, but Rana lowered her head until she was eye-level, silent voice serious. Exactly. Hundreds of elves were born and died while I sat, unhatched. I did not deem a single one worthy of me, until you. I know you have some reservations about being queen. Yes, you love Torren, but the crown scares you. Zariah, out of all the elves in all the world, I chose you. Not even elves understand the ancient magic that is involved in a dragon’s choice—in choosing their riddarin. But the moment you drew your first breath in this world, I knew you would be mine. And there has not been a single moment of my existence in which I have regretted my choice.
The back of my throat began to burn and I blinked rapidly, willing the tears away. I flung myself at my dragon, burying my face in her scaly hide and sobbing raggedly, attempting to hold back the tears. I would not ruin my paint. Not on such an important day.
“I love you, Rana,” I murmured. “More than anything.”
I love you too, elf.
Finally, I pulled back and cleared my throat. “That must have been an incredibly creative few minutes.”
I am a truly magnificent dragon, after all. Now, hurry. Before the hour passes.
I nodded and stepped through the Sacred Gates, Rana at my side. I had trod this path countless times, but now I thought back to that day, so many years ago. When Mama had pulled me from my bed and taken me to meet my dragon. How completely my life had changed then. And how much more it would change now.
Torren was waiting for me at the base of the Mother, fiddling with the sleeve of his tunic.
I took a moment to admire him before announcing my presence. His snow hair was loose, braided with golden thread. He wore his royal crown, a simple silver creation not nearly so fancy as those of human princes. His tunic was long-sleeved and high-necked, grey-blue in colour. He wore a belt hammered from iron and painted with gold around his waist.
I allowed my gaze to linger on his face. Simple designs curved around his temple in gold, not nearly so fancy as mine. When he finally noticed my presence, he turned to me. Silver eyes lit up, trailing over me. Sculpted lips opened slightly. He held out a hand, beckoned me forward. I went without hesitation, taking his hand in mine.
“Not even the shining radiance of the Sister Moons could rival you, my love,” Torren said, pressing an achingly tender kiss to my cheek.
Before I could say anything, the Mother Tree lit up. Balls of soft blue light danced around her, bathing us in radiance. Torren took my other hand, faced toward me.
“Here, before the Mother, I, Torren Rishiven, pledge to Zariah Selvelen, my soul for all eternity. I will be your strength, your love, your home. And should death come to me before you, I swear to wait for you in the Night Lands, so that we may ride silver horses through the skies for eternity.”
As he spoke, pure magic swelled from the core of his very being, twining through the small space that separated us before connecting to me. A single strand of silver magic. More threads joined it as he spoke, until a thick band connected us.
“Here, before the Mother, I, Zariah Selvelen, pledge to Torren Rishiven, my soul for all eternity. I will be your strength, your love, your home. And should death come to me before you, I swear to wait for you in the Night Lands, so that we may ride silver horses through the skies for eternity.”
My own magic surged forward as I pledged myself to my prince. Shoots of sapphire magic streaked from me, intertwining themselves with Torren’s magic. Strands of amethyst mixed in with the silver and sapphire—the parts of Rana that lived in me. As they did, I felt Rana’s presence behind me more acutely than ever, as her magic joined ours, strengthening the new bond.
I explored the feeling with wonder, and felt Torren doing the same. I felt naked, having my magic laid bare as it now was, brushing against Torren’s. Rana stayed away for now, leaving us to our moment. I began to go deeper, to find out how it worked, and gasped when I touched something cold. For a moment, I felt something more. Torren frowned as he felt it too through our new link. Something deep inside of me, something that shouldn’t be there. Rana tensed as she caught the tail end of the cold feeling. I reached for whatever it was, even as my own magic shrunk back. I’d never felt anything like this before. It was something so… so… so…
I blinked. What had I been doing? Oh, of course. Exploring our connection. Torren had a soft smile on his face as he examined the way his magic was wrapping around mine. Rana was watching on with happiness. I’d never felt her so at peace before.
The soft radiance of the Mother descended, wrapping our bond in white light. I gasped as the magic slammed back into me, struggling for breath as I felt the foreign yet familiar feel of Torren’s own magic, finding its place in my soul. It tickled softly at my insides, gently teasing my magic. Finally, the light of the Mother reached my soul. I felt its gentle warmth, encouraging my own magic to accept Torren. The part that resisted the most was the part of me that was Rana, but I’d been told that was normal.
Finally, he was a part of me. The tips of my fingers tingled with the urge to unleash my new power, to feel Torren in my magic.
Torren gasped for breath as he, too, experienced the soul binding. Finally, when the two of us regained some semblance of decorum, he turned to me, eyes bright. For an instant, his eyes blazed a brilliant blue, the same colour as mine, before returning to their normal silver.
That was… interesting, Rana said, finally breaking the silence.
I hissed as a burning sensation spread on my left shoulder. Gently, I teased my dress to the side to reveal a black mark on my shoulder.
Torren unbuttoned his tunic, pulling it apart to reveal pale flesh. Admittedly, I was distracted by his toned midsection. Torren had to clear his throat and direct my gaze to his right pectoral muscle before I noticed the black mark, identical to mine. Three ovals, interlocked to form a triangle. The sign of eternity.
I stepped forward, brushing my fingers over the mark. It was smooth, like the rest of his skin. Torren shivered when I touched him, reaching out to wrap his arms around my waist. He drew me in closer, resting his forehead against mine. His warm breath puffed rapidly against my lips. I was aware of every part of me that touched my prince, fire racing under my skin, waiting to burst forth.
Finally, I could stand it no longer. In one smooth movement I lunged forward, pressing my mouth to his. The fire exploded out of me, racing around us. A burning inferno. He held me tightly to him, mouth moving over mine, uncaring for the eternal flames that burned so close to him. He knew they wouldn’t hurt him. Couldn’t hurt him.
