CHAPTER 6 - THE ARRIVAL

1766 0 0

CHAPTER 6

THE ARRIVAL

 

There’s a reason why a child always calls out for its mother when hurt.

Mommies make everything better.

 

 

The light over the Prime Gate flared.

Symbols engraved upon the three black claws gave off an eerie glow of both white and red, the magical combination allowing the sister Gate to connect.

The High Elder and half the Iskari High Council stood unmoved. Each blue-skinned face watched the center platform fill with energy and slowly form a picture. At first it was unclear what the image was—but the ripples of energy slowed, allowing the naked eye to see through to the other side. It was like looking through a clear body of slow moving water, standing upright.

Trees and waterfalls could be seen in the distance as well as brilliant white structures, reflecting the bright light of the sun.

Slowly rising into view waded a black robed figure.

The High Elder allowed himself a momentary smirk, then said aloud, “They arrive.”

The twelve Elders present formed a semi circle behind their council leader, placing their hands within the fold of their sleeves. A ceremonial welcome for visitors. It was developed in ancient times to protect the High Elder from unwanted attacks during war negotiations.

The robed figure paused to look over her shoulder, then drifted through the distorted scene to the other side. The movement through the liquid-like energy caused ripples across the Gate.

“Ahh, Elder Jiin,” Delnar beamed, stepping up the ramp to meet the female Elder. “Did the meeting go well?”

She grasped his hand in the traditional handshake, gripping the lower forearm firmly. “It did indeed. Lady Alaria and her party are approaching the Gate now. I was hoping for her to bring the nemenä, but she has chosen to bring the Kädettä Aränuä.”

The High Elder looked to the others of the council. Each face seemed to mirror the shock of his own. “The healing hands are…coming here? But, we are not prepared Elder Jinn. We…”

Jiin placed a hand over the High Elder’s heart. “Peace brother. They bring all they require with them. Lady Alaria assured me we are under no obligation to provide setting or substance on their behalf. I am informed that in times of great need, the healing hands use their own collections. She would not allow a single delay to rescue the life of her son.”

“They come,” whispered Elder Lapish from behind.

With one motion, the Iskari High Council—counselors to the world, bowed.

The energy of the Prime Gate shimmered with a bright light of emerald green. Evolu guards, wrapped in exquisite green and silver leaf armor, emerged. Shoulders, arms and bracers covered in interwoven layers of detailed leather. Every element embroidered with silver thread that reflected the light, held together by elaborate straps across each warriors chest. Full length tunics and knee-high boots also displayed leaf patterns outlined in silver.

Each guard wore a broad hood which peaked and hung outward at the bridge of their nose, casting shadows over eyes and cheek bones. Upon their backs—slender blades—hilts of gold and silver arching high above their heads.

One by one, they appeared. Moving across the platform with such surety and equilibrium it created the illusion of floating across the rough stone surface and down the ramp, walling in the entire platform.

The last soldier strode through the rippling energy of the gate and paused. A tall evolu compared to the rest, with frost white hair resting across his shoulders. His armor had a deep gloss, like the polished red bark of a tree, outlined in gold patterns and symbols rather than silver, bright green leaves checkering his upper chest and shoulders, held in place by single rivets of gold. Upon his back, smaller double blades arched outward, yearning to be born…while a longbow sat securely in his left hand, quiver at his hip.

Emerald eyes centered in lean features, looked upward—his head rotating slowly to take in Sanctuary. Slender ears twitched as he gazed across the landscape…as if searching for something lurking in the shadows.

Such control, Delnar marveled, catching a glimpse without moving his own head.

Satisfied, the evolu turned…and held out his free hand.

Though the sun hovered brightly overhead, a brighter light trickled through the Gate.

Brilliant and pure, whiter than snow.

Slender fingers of smooth alabaster emerged through the ripples, taking hold of the bowman’s outstretched hand.

“All is well, Janic?” came a sweet, melodic voice.

“It is, my Lady.”

Delnar’s hands trembled…forcing him to squeeze them tighter. He’d never met the Lady Alaria, even though she had visited with Delnar’s own father when he’d led the Council. An exchange of ideas and resources had happened nearly eighty seasons ago on evolu land. Most precious and famed of the evolu, Alaria represented her people in that transaction. The only daughter of the Omethiä—the Father Prophet, she was trained in the office of her mother.

Rumors spoke of a beauty so great that few men could look upon Alaria without his heart pledging loyalty and devotion.

The High Elder fidgeted in place.

The thought of losing ones self to such a power terrified the High Elder.. To be out of control, to…succumb to ones emotions was not a desirable trait in any Iskari. It was not their way. Discipline was paramount to a free and joyful life. Representing his people in the face of such possibilities caused beads of sweat to form on the High Elder’s forehead.

Remain calm, he told himself. She is here for the express purpose to save her child. That is all.

To make matters worse, Delnar had never heard of Lady Alaria leaving the confines of her home city. As the Omä-es she would travel much, but she had taken the ruling place of her mother after coming of age. She was both the Omä-es, or messenger, and the Omäthä, or mother speaker. Serving both by her father’s side…and as messenger to her people. Yet if the takes were true, for half a millennium she’d remained upon the tropical island, under the watchful and protective eyes of her father.

The High Elder couldn’t help but smile. Yet here she is!

In Sanctuary.

Rules had been set aside to achieve a greater purpose.

The saving of a child.

Dax.

Alaria’s son.

The High Elder watched as all about him the pure white light washed across the grass, spreading like the morning rays of the sun, peeking over the tops of the mountains. He clenched his eyes tight, offering a silent prayer to any god listening who would give him the wisdom and courage to see this task through with dignity.

“Peace be unto you, my friend,” came the traditional evolu words of greeting.

With a deep breath, the High Elder slowly stood upright, his fellow Elders with him.

He immediately fought the urge to gasp.

Almond shaped eyes of crystal grey gazed upon him, unblinking.

Like the wonder and brilliance of a winter storm, Lady Alaria’s beauty was…overpowering. Long lashes and thick, dark eyebrows joined full, pink lips set a flawless complexion. Her long hair, white with a faint mix of copper, was braided into a magnificent crown upon her supple head, exposing a slender neck and shoulders.

Jewels of starlight danced about the crown of her head, sparkling and winking at all who beheld them—yet they paled in comparison to the brilliance of the lady elf’s countenance.

Delnar blinked once…then again, his eyes desperately trying to adjust.

Rau hyväksyn ja palään,” he said softly, bowing his head once more.

Lady Alaria smiled delicately, “You have studied the greetings of my people. That is a most pleasant surprise, High Elder. You show my people a great kindness.”

At her words, the guards standing at attention turned and marched to form a protective wall around the group, including the Iskari Council.

A few of the Elders looked about in concern.

“May I…ask a question, my Lady?” Delnar nodded towards Elder Nurri, who looked outwardly uncomfortable.

“Of course.” Lady Alaria took a step forward and the High Elder noticed she had arrived barefoot. Turning to take a place at his side, signifying an acknowledged equality, “I am your servant,” she addd softly.

Delnar allowed himself to smile openly then. “You are our honored guest, Omä-es, and we will record this in our history as a most exquisite honor at that. But might I enquire if these measures,” and he motioned to the elven guard in an open-palm gesture, “are necessary?” But he saw the flaw in his own question and quickly added, “They are most welcome, to be sure, and free to go wherever you deem necessary…but the famed evolu tactics of intimidation will be wasted here. We are not warriors, but scholars, farmers, and no evil is permitted within the confines of this city, which was crafted by the Gnolaum himself…unless visitors bring it with them.”

Considering his words, the Lady then cast a glance at the Captain.

With one motion, the archer placed the end of his bow upon the ground and took a wide stance. Each soldier  immediately withdrew from the circle, freeing the Elders and mimicking their Captain’s stance. Drawing their hoods back, they revealed golden hair and locks of raven black, shoulders relaxing, while eyes watched ever outward.

Even Lady Alaria’s countenance seemed to withdraw into herself, a soft glow radiating from her skin, but no more.

“Is that…better?” she asked softly.

Delnar nodded. “Thank you. We are your humble servants, my Lady. Anything your party requires, we shall fulfill if we are able.”

The Lady looked over her shoulder, towards the Keep. “I would like to see him now, if I may?”

“Of course,” and the High Elder turned to walk away. “If you will follow me?”

“Sämäten.”

The High Elder stopped.

“I will require the last of my party,” she added, looking back to the Prime Gate. “We must wait a moment longer.”

Holding out her palm, one of the tiny crystals, floating about her brow, descended to rest upon it. Raising her hand to her lips, she whispered something, then smiled adoringly.

Without a sound, it rose from her hand and shot straight as an arrow at the quivering energy of the prime gate…piercing the ripples and vanishing from sight.

Delnar stared at the scene, still showing the lush green of the trees and crystal blues of the waterfalls the evolu capital city was famous for.

Two figures floated into view, centered in that image. Tall and dark, swaying from side to side with each long stride. At first Delnar thought they were some strange beasts of burden, laden with supplies.

That changed.

Leaning down, the first figure pushed through the Gate.

The figure was indeed tall, over ten feet. Was it an Evolu? The High Elder wasn’t completely sure. The mass he’d assumed to be supplies was merely the swaying fabric of giant cobalt blue robes. A male, pale and gaunt, with bright blue eyes, peered out from under the heavy hood, surveying the scene before him.

“Are those…,” Delnar started to say, but it seemed almost absurd. He’d never heard of evolu being so tall. Even the giants of the Western Sands were recorded to be only eight to nine feet tall.

“Yes, High Elder,” Alaria breathed, gazing upon the second figure emerging from the Gate. “The Kädettä Aränuä, or as your people call them, The Healing Hands.”

Offering a tender hand for support, the second figure—a female—stepped through and stood to her full height.

Then a second.

…and a third.

Each female a head shorter than their counterpart, the trio located Lady Alaria and bowed deeply, the male bowing his head only..

Delicately curved cheekbones and pale skin, each evolu smile was beautiful. The same glowing blue eyes shown brightly between the full curls of white locks wrapping face and neck, falling from each hood.

The last female through the portal opened her hand, releasing the small crystal, which danced through the air to rejoin its family around Alaria’s brow.

“We are ready to serve, my Lady,” the females said together in a perfect melodious tone.

Alaria turned back to face Delnar. “We are ready.”

The whole of the soldiers stood at attention, though this time in a silent, more relaxed order. There were no stomping sounds or clanking armor—only relaxed movement wrapped in complete awareness.

“You seem to have studied the ways of my people,” Alaria began as they walked towards the great bridge leading to the High Elder’s Keep. “Including the simple ways we evoke emotion and compliance in our enemies.”

Delnar smiled to himself. “I assure you, my Lady, that we have never considered ourselves to be your enemies, nor you to be ours. It is our custom to study all thing of importance. Languages, foods, social structures, even architecture and tactics of war. Our place among the races has always been to encourage, council, and advise. We cannot perform these duties in ignorance.”

“Yet here we are,” she breathed delicately, “advising you.”

“This is a most serious situation, Lady,” and for a moment he faltered, “Your son is…very dear to us.”

A soft hand lightly squeezed his robed forearm. “And for that, I shall forever be grateful.”

The procession walked on through the park, the evolu soldiers following at the rear. The Kädettä Aränuä towered over the rest, pacing themselves so as not to over take those in front.

Blue faces appeared in windows and doorways, throughout the city, curious.

“I would ask you, High Elder, about the Gnolaum. My daughter, Tamorah, has informed me that the Ithari has indeed found a host once more? That he…,” she paused, her delicate brows wrinkling, “met with his demise and yet, was returned to life?”

Delnar cleared his throat, searching carefully for the right words. The evolu, especially its various leaders, were people of absolute truth—believing that true power and strength only came from obeying the law of the Universe, which was, in fact, truth. Not one’s ‘own’ truth or a perspective, but ‘the’ truth.

The truth which stood on its own.

“The Gnolaum did not die, my Lady—he was, however, seriously wounded and it required powerful magic to restore him fully.”

“Black magic.”

“Well,” Delnar shrugged, “I would not say that technology is black—but rather something we do not fully understand in comparison to the magic that surrounds us.”

“Is it not the same magic that brought harm to my son?”

It was a fair question, but one that could nudge the entire conversation and possibly the emotions of his visitors in the wrong direction. Was it technology that created the means that had nearly killed Dax? In part, perhaps, but Delnar knew the more correct answer.

He shook his head. “No, my Lady, it was not. The sickness was devised by a mind, not a machine. It was also delivered by evil hands, not by any magical means. A person did this to Dax. Perhaps several, but it would not be wise to condemn a people for the acts of a few, would you not agree?”

She considered the reasoning and nodded. “I would. And I would be very interested in meeting the Gnolaum. It has come to my understanding that Daxänu has established a friendship with the steward of the gem?” He tone was even, yet the High Elder could not mistake the emphasis Alaria made with Dax’s given name.

“Daxänu,” Delnar corrected himself, “was given charge of the young man. He holds the stewardship of the hero’s guardian.”

Alaria paused then, stopping abruptly—her people following her example. Brows arching high, “And Daxänu finds this stewardship acceptable?”

Thoughts raced through Delnar’s mind as his gaze flashed over the shadows of his fellow Elders. What is she implying? The line of reasoning kept turning back to Dax in a way that sounded like she was…condemning others. Surely she knew that Wendell was here to save the whole of the world, which included her lands? That the charge of his protection and guidance during this learning time was a privilege…

Or did she?

The chinking of both armor and the sound of drawing swords interrupted the conversation…followed by a rather high-pitched shriek.

“Let him through,” called Elder Nurri, “he is a fellow Elder of the Council.”

Elder Käshen pushed forward into view, bumping into elven soldier after soldier, apologizing with abrupt bows as he went. Stumbling up behind the High Elder, he stopped, leaned over to clench his knees, wheezing from exertion.

“Elder Käshen,” Delnar said, somewhat embarrassed, “so…glad you could join us.”

“High…Elder…,” he gasped, shoulders heaving and legs trembling, “I…need…to talk…to…”

“This,” Delnar emphasized firmly, “is Lady Alaria.”

A few more huffs and Käshen pushed his thick-rimed glasses up over the beads of sweat on his nose and looked up. “Oh, hello there,” he gave an open palm wave.

Not a blink, or gasp or even a double-take towards the evolu maiden.

Lady Alaria smiled, amused.

Käshen popped upright like a gnome spring. “Oh!” He looked at the High Elder…then around at the extraordinary amount of evolu present, his eyes growing ever-wider. “Y-You’re…uh..your’e THAT Alaria!”

Her smile widened, “I am.”

With a flamboyant wave of his hands, Käshen bowed so deeply he almost toppled onto his face. “Your Lady…uh…My Quee…uhhh. Oh. Oooo. I’m, uh…”

To the shock of her procession, Lady Alaria laughed.

“I can see this will be a most pleasant visit.” She leaned forward ever-so slightly and whispered, “Do not fear Elder Käshen, your honesty even in confusion is most refreshing and delightful. You may address me as Lady Alaria.”

Käshen looked up, gave his glasses another good shove and grinned. “It is a great honor to meet you, Lady Alaria. May your stay be fruitful and fulfilling.”

She nodded, “Thank you.”

Pointing to the High Elder, “May I…speak with…yes, him, for just a moment. I’m so sorry to interrupt. Truly. Thank you.”

The High Elder grinned awkwardly, “My Lady, Elder Jiin will take you directly to your son and Elder Poul will show your party their quarters. If you have any needs, both Brother Poul and Sister Irrumea will tend to you.” He gave Käshen a curious glance, “I will be along shortly.”

Without another word, the party continued up the bridge towards the Keep, while the two Elders remained.

“What were you thinking?!” snapped Delnar when he felt they were out of earshot. “You’ve embarrassed both this council and our people by your lack of awareness!”

Elder Käshen scratched his chin. “Oh I don’t know, she seems quite nice. She even laughed. It’s fiiiine.” Leaning in closer, he whispered, “Quite pretty, that one.” He grinned until he remembered why he’d run all the way from the cottage. “Oh, I came to…”

“Where is Wendell? Lady Alaria wants to…”

“That’s what I wanted to tell…”

“And where is Morphiophelius?” Delnar snapped, frustrated. “He said he would be here for her arrival!”

“That’s just it,” Käshen stammered. “He’s…”

“You left the gnomes back at the cottage I hope? We can’t have them running around here…”

“THEY’RE GONE!” blurted Käshen. He slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide with disbelief.

Delnar breathed a sigh of relief, “It’s about time those gentre left.”

“No,” gasped Käshen, “not the gnomes, High Elder,” but he did a double take, “Well, yes, them too, but I…”

The High Elder’s brows slowly lowered, white hairs meeting in the middle of his forehead. “What do you mean ‘gone’?”

Käshen started pacing erratically, “I followed the techno-mägo into the gnome district of the Black Market and next thing I knew, they had disappeared in the crowd. I mean, I wasn’t worried, because they wouldn’t leave me…but they did leave me!” He scratched his head, “Or maybe I lost them…I’m not altogether sure.”

“Focus Käshen.”

“Right. Sorry. Morphiophelius found me and gave me permission to use his Gate Key, said he needed to run an errand. Told me to meet Wendell and Lili at the Roadkill Tavern after…”

“Roadkill…Tavern?”

Elder Käshen grinned wide, “Yes. Amaaaaaazing food.” He shook his head, “Wait—No, but no one was there! I checked the shop where Alhannah was supposed to be cared for and…,” he shuttered, “have you seen the woman who owns that shop? I never knew human women could be so…so…”

“Loud? Abrupt? Rude?”

Ugly as SIN!” Again Käshen slapped a hand over his mouth. “I’m so sorry,” he muttered through clenched fingers, “that was rude of me,” but then he gasped, “Thank the gods not all mortal creatures can find mates…I’m terrified by the though of that…that thing procreating.”

The Elder shuddered from head to sandals, “Käshen!”

“Yes. Sorry. Alhannah was gone. Höbin was gone. No one was at the Tavern and I waited hours. When I inquired with the Tavern owner…he said Wendell had gained passage with a merchant couple.”

The High Elder blinked several times. “Gain passage? You mean…”

Käshen nodded frantically. “Our Hero has run away.”

 

If you've enjoyed this story, consider buying me a coffee from my ko-fi shop -- it helps pay for this site, and allows me to write more stories for you =)
  THANKS!!

Support WantedHero's efforts!

Please Login in order to comment!