Fall of the Elves, page 38
part #1 of Elves of Asarton Series
“You’re not… you’re not angry anymore?” Jusedoral asked.
“No. But, we are running out of time.” I grinned. “Leave me so I can change.”
The elves ran out the door. Sevia pointed to the chest at the end of my bed. “I had your armour brought when you had your final dream.”
I nodded my thanks. I made quick work of changing and shifted uncomfortably once I was finished. It was my elven armour and as a human I was shorter and curvier. It was far too large in some places and smaller in others, especially my chest. Human me was very well endowed, which was not comfortable when I was trying to squeeze the armour on. You’d think what with us having the ability to literally turn into a human, we would be able to change an armour size. But it wouldn’t be for long, so I lived with it.
I knew I mustn’t have made a very fearsome sight, stepping out in my ill-fitting armour. Nevertheless, the elves all looked at me with reverence.
“One more thing,” Jusedoral said, stepping forward. She held a sheathed sword in her hands. It was not mine. The Union sword Torren had given me was lost. I had to hold back tears as I realised some ragtok must have made off with it. I would probably never see it again. No, the blade offered to me now was Jusedoral’s own Union sword. “May it protect you well.”
I took it wordlessly, understanding fully how much this meant, and belted it around my hips.
“We’ll see you on the battlefield, Your Majesty,” Niyashe said, bowing her head.
I nodded and ran quickly to where Rana waited to fly us to the army.
Like an airborne disease, the foul scent permeated around us, making my eyes water. Many of the ragtok wore rusted chainmail, obviously salvaged from their human victims. Their numbers spanned the length of the stronghold, reaching back until they blurred with the horizon.
Though Isetenila was the closest of the Four Kingdoms to my true home, this close to the far border I felt the distance keenly.
I gulped at the sheer magnitude of it all, but did not allow panic to set in. There would be time enough to have a proper breakdown when all this was over.
Rana took us down just outside the walls of the stronghold. I slipped from her back and strode toward the marching army.
They slowed to a stop when I approached, with Rana at my back. The ragtok closest to me eyed my armour. Ill-fitting though it may have been, they recognised the elven design.
But it was not them I focused on. I stopped walking, struggling to breathe—whether because of the tight-fitting armour, my rapidly-dying body, or because of the task ahead of me, I didn’t know. But the cause didn’t matter.
In front of me, leading the army as its hidan, was my ragtok.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Unafraid, I made my way over to my ragtok. I stopped just in front of him, close enough to see the pained look on his gruesome face. His sad brown eyes darted to my grey hair before returning to me.
Seeing him, knowing the truth… it broke my heart.
He held up a hand to halt a ragtok that had begun to advance on me. “Leave it,” he hissed in his own language. “I will deal with her.”
The ragtok surrounding their hidan retreated slightly, giving us some semblance of privacy. I began to cough.
“I warned you if you entered this battle I would have no mercy,” he said softly, this time in Meldaic, voice filled with remorse. He watched me as I doubled over, lost in a fit of coughing. “I’m sorry. I have to kill you.”
I spat the hunk of blood that had stuck in my throat and straightened. “No,” I said simply. “You won’t.”
I drew Jusedoral’s Union sword from its sheath, waiting for him to heft his. I realised now that his blade was not rusted as I had once thought. It was simply so encrusted with blood it was impossible to see the metal beneath.
I waited for him to swing at me, easily deflecting the first swipe. The rest of the ragtok watched with eager anticipation, waiting for their hidan to cut me down.
But it did not happen.
Despite the ferocity with which we fought, it was soon clear to me that we were sparring, not truly fighting. Rana lent me her power so that my speed and strength could match his.
Finally, I'd had enough. I deliberately held my sword out a little too far to the side, exposing my chest. Though his weapon could not pierce my armour, there was a clear area where the armour connected that I usually kept well-guarded now exposed.
The ragtok saw it, his eyes dropping. In that moment, he easily could have killed me.
But, he hesitated, just as I knew he would. I took advantage of his pause to bring my sword around, knocking his from his grip and sending it circling through the air. He made no move to grab it as it came back down. The tip pierced the compact dirt not two feet from us. I brought my own sword up, resting the tip on his neck.
The ragtok dragged its heavy eyes to me, shoulders drooping in defeat as the army behind him shifted uneasily. Rana’s warning growl and shot of fire kept them at bay for the moment, though they would not be distracted forever.
“How did you know I could not hurt you?” the ragtok asked, breathless.
“Because I know you.”
And then, I dropped my sword and stepped closer. Before he could react, I brought my hand to the nape of his neck and pulled his lips to mine, mindless of the human monarchs I knew were watching from the parapet.
And in that moment, under the blazing sun, a human kissed a ragtok for the first time, and the last.
At the sensation of my lips brushing his own rough mouth, I released my hold on the emotions that had threatened to flood me from the moment I’d opened my eyes.
I let go of my grief from that night, the sting of betrayal that had come with learning everybody I cared about had lied to me for months. The weeks upon weeks of confusion as a human leading up to the truth finally being revealed. My anger at Rana, my hurt for Torren, my sorrow over Rela’s fate. I released it all until all that was left was love. Bright, blinding love. Love for my people, for Mama. For the time I had with my human sister. For the loyalty my friends showed me. And most of all, the love I felt for Torren and Rana, very different forms of love but no less powerful.
That feeling, it was there. Growing, growing stronger.
Oh, very well.
That voice. The silent voice that belonged to no elf, human, ragtok or dragon. A voice with no beginning, no end. A voice older than time. It washed over me, swept my emotions up.
I will clean up your mess this once, but never again. You must prepare.
Clean up my mess?
This is only the beginning, little elf.
The beginning? The beginning of what? Whatever it was left me and I… I… I… what was I doing?
The ragtok! My magic. Of course. What had I just been doing? Now wasn’t the time to lose focus.
I regained my grip on my emotions, let them build, let them grow. Stronger, stronger, stronger.
It all blasted through me, until I felt an actual physical ache. I hissed as heat sparked in my stomach, rippling outwards. Through my closed eyes, the world lit up white as I gripped the man in front of me closer.
I was able to breathe again properly as my human form melted away, and magic—both new and ancient—coursed through me. My left shoulder burned and I winced in pain as the magic that had flown to me the night Torren had died—his final gift to me—flew around my system. Pulling in air through my nose with my lips still on the man in front of me, I gave it back.
It felt like lightning crashed through me. Blood roared in my ears and my heart pumped so fast I feared it would explode.
Finally, a calmness settled. I knew it wasn’t over, not by half. I teetered on the edge of something so much bigger, a well of magic I’d never even discovered before in the pit of my stomach, hiding beneath my own magic. I’d never noticed it. How could I have missed it? It was huge, bigger than a mountain.
I couldn’t wait to explore it.
But for now, I opened my eyes. We were cocooned in a ball of white light. The ragtok was gone. In his place stood an elven king, hair like the snow and eyes a burning silver.
My aches and pains were gone, along with my human body.
He reached up with slender fingers. Ran a hand, almost disbelieving, through my silver hair. “Your hair…” he murmured.
I frowned. Not exactly the words of love I’d been expecting. “What’s wrong with it?” I asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
“It matches my eyes.” Then, he smiled, blindingly bright. “We would look magnificent in portraits together, you and I.”
I smiled and moved closer so my lips were close to his. “I dislike portraits,” I murmured against his mouth.
He threw his head back and laughed. I joined in, unable to help the unadulterated happiness that exploded through me.
And as the clear, joy-filled sounds bubbled out of us, the ball of white light expanded, rushing over the army of ragtok.
We turned to watch. From what I could see, two-thirds of the massive army collapsed, their burnt skin peeling away. In their place, shining elven warriors staggered to their feet, looking around in confusion.
The remaining ragtok stumbled away from the elves, looking suddenly very unsure. It made sense that they would make Torren their general. After all, being the elven king, he would be the most powerful. And the elf-ragtok would follow him, subconsciously recognising him as their leader. No magic, no matter how powerful, could erase the deep, unconditional loyalty the elves had for their rulers.
“How did you do that?” Torren asked, eyes wide as he looked out at our people. “I mean, I knew you could do it. I had faith. But how?”
I paused. I felt like there was something, something I’d forgotten. There’d been something else there when I’d used my magic. Something… it slipped away, and I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I believe this is yours,” Torren said, picking up the sword that had been imbedded in the dirt. The magic had cleansed it of the blood, revealing a blade as black as night and the design of Rana curved around me hammered into the silver hilt. “I picked it up that night. I must have carried it around for the past… how long has it been?”
“Three hundred years,” I said, taking the sword from the king. I watched him, unsure.
Though he had made me his equal in power, he had not truly treated me as one as of yet. But he simply smiled and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Go. Be a queen.”
I grinned and ran over to Rana before leaping onto her back. She flew into the air so I could be seen by all.
“Elves of Asarton!” I shouted in Elvish, relishing the language on my tongue. “For centuries, the ragtok have treated you as their own puppets. They have taken your will from you, made you fight for their own twisted cause. No more! Today, I have returned your bodies to you, unlocked your consciousness that has been buried all these long years. Take up the swords they gave you and turn them against these monsters! Your families wait for you in Asarton. Fight for them. For those who have already fallen. For the dragons and elves who will never see their families again. Make proud your ancestors who watch from the Night Lands!”
A great cheer went up and the elves beat their weapons against the floor.
“For our king! For our queen! For the fallen! For Asarton!” they chanted.
My heart swelled at their words and I raised my sword. “Kill them all!” I screamed.
Though none of the weapons were able to kill the ragtok as they were not forged in dragon fire, my people did their best. They ripped the ragtok limb-from-limb and piled them high for Rana to light afire.
I fought on the ground alongside my people, Torren never straying far from my side. I caught sight of my friends occasionally, wielding proper weapons. Jusedoral had retrieved her sword. For an instant, I thought Valeria was by my side as well, emerald eyes sparkling with fire as she swung her own sword. But, then I blinked and realised it was another green-eyed, blonde-haired elf. Valeria truly was gone. My chest constricted but I pushed through the pain. I would mourn for all the fallen properly.
But not now.
I allowed myself to drown in the bloodshed, my weapon one of the few that actually worked. I did not call the humans, and they did not come. They had no weapons that would work and they didn’t have the thirst for vengeance my people had. They would only be a hindrance.
Splatter across my jaw. My sword slipped between a ragtok’s teeth and came out the back of its skill. When I removed the sword, there was more blood on me than in its body. I dragged the struggling remnants of another ragtok to a rapidly-growing pile. Even with no legs and only one arm, it was putting up a fight. I tossed my victim onto the pile and backed away. Once I was clear, Rana set the pile of ragtok ablaze, their agonized screams like sweet music to my ears.
Across from me a ragtok took his sword to his midsection, disembowelling itself. His rotten organs dropped to the ground at my feet, but the blade was not forged in dragonfire and so he did not die. Rather, he lay there, writhing in his own insides. I dragged my sword through him, and he died, howling. I felt nothing.
The rest of the battle was over quickly. There was roughly two elves for every ragtok, and the monsters were without a hidan. It was not a battle, it was a massacre.
We suffered no casualties. The ragtok were grossly outnumbered and woefully unprepared to fight an army of vengeful, bloodthirsty elves.
When Rana set the last pile alight, I turned to my people. Without proper weapons, the battle had been messy. We were all painted in blood not our own. But we didn’t have time to rest. I glanced back at the stronghold.
“Are you alright?” Torren asked, looking me over with concern.
I nodded. “Yes.” I snagged Niyashe’s arm. “I’m putting you in charge of the army. Get them settled while Torren and I go deal with the humans.”
She nodded and bowed, eyes bright. I couldn’t imagine how boring it must have been for her, spending the last twenty years as a maid.
I smiled at a warrior that come over to bow over my hand and thank me. I vaguely recognised her from a festival I’d attended and nodded back at her.
“You know what has to be done?” Torren asked, curving an arm over my shoulder. He’d just finished filling me in on everything else I’d missed. Going from empty to an emotional wreck gave me whiplash. It took everything in me not to fall apart.
Instead, I squared my shoulders and nodded. “Yes. Rana!”
The dragon came at my call, ducking her head so Torren and I could get on. I looked over at Garlen, Jusedoral and Husi. Rana, do you think you could carry them, too?
She glanced at the summit hall. It wasn’t far. Yes.
I beckoned to them and they scurried up her side. Jusedoral was the only one who hadn’t flown with her before. Rana had to be the most accepting dragon I’d ever met. Most other dragons allowed only their riddarin on their back and maybe their riddarin’s mate.
She laboured to take flight with all five of us, and I threaded my magic through the air, raising the wind to give her a little push.
Once in the air, she flew us to the summit hall and I drew in a deep breath, drawing strength from Torren’s comforting presence at my back. All I wanted to do was properly reunite with him, and process everything that I had learnt in the past few hours.
A day ago, I’d just been a human girl who dreamed of an elven queen. Now… well, I had so many more problems now.
As Rana flew us through the hole in the summit wall, I slid off her back and turned to face the gawking humans.
The time for secrets was over.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
I ignored the seat at Aidric’s side and took the throne meant for King Kaiden. Nobody said anything. I almost wish they had.
“Perhaps I should properly introduce myself,” I said finally, addressing the human kings and queen. “I am Zariah, queen of the elves, and this is my husband, King Torren.” I gestured with my head to where my king stood to the left of my throne, his right hand on my shoulder. “And these,” I gestured to the other elves that surrounded me, “are my friends. Until recently, Husi was known as a soldier named Leon. Garlen and Jusedoral—a bonded couple—were known respectively as my husband, Herlon, and his mistress, Julia. Truthfully, my entire household was made up of elves in human form. As well as my sister, Maria. My parents never existed, the Baron and Baroness who took us in were simply made to think they did.”
I paused. Aidric looked stricken at the revelation of who Herlon was. My friend’s dislike for the human prince was obvious now.
When nobody spoke, I continued. “I apologise for the deception. Truthfully, I myself had no idea of any of this before the final dream. It was necessary for the magic that I needed to use in order to free my people.” I didn’t go into details. I didn’t need to. When an elf queen said something was necessary for a magic spell, nobody disagreed.
“But… how?” Aidric asked. “How could you have been an elf all this time?”
I felt Torren stiffen. He hadn’t missed the look in Aidric’s eyes as they drifted over the two of us. But he had no right to be angry. It was his idea to take my memories and make me human. If he thought I wasn’t going to have a connection with somebody, he was sorely mistaken. Imagine if I had fallen for the original count of Newshire? Herlon surely would not have given me a cruel husband, so it was entirely plausible that over the two years of our marriage feelings may have grown.
Truthfully, however, I knew my feelings for Aidric had only even been that of a good friend at best.
“It took copious amounts of magic to store my memories in the ring and ensure they appeared when they should,” I said, fiddling with that very ring on my finger. “Humans and magic do not mix. What human could have survived that much magic? As for Asarton… Rana resisted so much for a reason. I had to give my consent for you to enter. Otherwise, the magic would have destroyed you. As it was, you entered under the queen’s protection, and so you were safe.”
