29.

  Faelwen

  The bright afternoon light deepened into amber as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows that danced through the corridors of the palace. Elora led us upward, through spiralling staircases carved with ancient elven glyphs that glimmered faintly as we passed.

  At last, we arrived at the council room, perched high on a plateau that overlooked the vast splendour of Caradsher?n. The sound of evening birds reached my ears. The chamber gave off a serenity that made me feel at ease.

  The room itself was a masterpiece of elven architecture, its arched ceiling soaring upward and opening to the heavens. The design allowed an unobstructed view of the sky, now streaked with fiery orange and soft pink from the setting sun.

  Large oval-shaped windows framed the distant mountain range, its jagged peaks kissed by the sun’s dying light. To my astonishment, the windows lacked glass, and a warm summer breeze swept into the room, carrying with it the scents of pine and distant waterfalls.

  The gentle caress of the wind against my skin stirred a fleeting question in my mind. How did they endure the cold here in winter? But it was quickly drowned by the magnificence surrounding me.

  The heart of the room was dominated by a grand oval table, its surface carved with intricate patterns that seemed to shift under the light, as though alive with magic. Around it sat elves of unparalleled grace and beauty, their long, elegant figures draped in richly adorned garments that shimmered like starlight.

  At the head of the table sat the lord of this ethereal city. Lord Elandor rose as we entered, his tall frame commanding yet welcoming. His silvery, blond hair cascaded over his shoulders, and his piercing hazel eyes focused on us. He spread his arms wide in a gesture of hospitality, his voice deep and resonant.

  “Welcome. I’m glad you’ve come,” he said in the common tongue. He motioned to three seats at the end of the table, and we hesitantly sat, Artemis curled up at my feet. His presence steadied me.

  Elora moved gracefully to a chair beside a male elf who bore a striking resemblance to her. My suspicions stirred, and they were confirmed moments later when Lord Elandor introduced the others.

  “These,” he said, gesturing to the two male elves seated nearest to him, “are my sons, Aimar and Elaith.”

  They inclined their heads in unison, their movements as fluid and poised as flowing water.

  “And these are my six advisors.” Each of the other elves nodded in turn, their faces serene yet attentive, as though weighing every moment with infinite care.

  I mimicked their gesture, bowing my head respectfully, and Ash followed without hesitation. Spook, however, did hesitate, his eyes darting between us before attempting the bow. It was awkward at best, but the elves showed no sign of offense, though I thought I glimpsed a flicker of amusement in the corner of one advisor’s lips.

  Lord Elandor’s expression turned sombre as he spoke again.

  “We are gathered here today because of the darkness that stirs across the Andw?ne Mere. It threatens the borders of the human lands and, if left unchecked, will surely make its way to our domain. That’s why you three have come to us, is it not?”

  I felt the weight of their collective gaze settle on me, and my stomach tightened. Ash and Spook both turned to me expectantly. My voice faltered at first, the gravity of the moment pressing down on me. My thoughts all jumbled together. The war. Barnabas. The Fiend.

  “Y—Yes,” I began, clearing my throat to steady myself. “We’ve come from far, and we need your help.”

  I recounted the war between Orion and Edmund. I told them about Barnabas. Spook chimed in with what he’d learned before leaving; the siege on Westray and the growing toll of conflict.

  Several elves exchanged weary glances, their serene expressions faltering for a moment as they shook their heads or mumbled softly. Elandor silenced them all with a subtle raise of his hand.

  “Please, continue,” he said, his gaze urging me onward. I told them of the Fiend, of his rising power and the horrifying truth of its alliance with former High King Talron.

  My words carried the weight of urgency, and I felt their focus sharpen. I ended with my encounter with Aeon Tempus, the gravity of the situation settling heavily in the room.

  Elandor leaned forward, his fingers steepled as he considered my words.

  “Thank you for sharing your story with us, Faelwen,” he said. “Though our scouts have brought us fragments of these events, our lives are secluded, far from the turmoil of the human lands. I fear Orion and High King Edmund are blind to the true danger they face in the Fiend. While they quarrel over old grievances, his threat grows unchecked.”

  Spook, ever brash, interjected.

  “The Black Hawks are working to unite them. High King Edmund and Orion, I mean. They see the danger, and if I know one thing, it’s that the Basilisk always gets what he wants. They might be making peace right now, gathering strength for the battle to come.”

  Elandor nodded, seemingly lost in thought, while several advisors murmured their approval. At last, Aimar, his eldest son, fixed me with a gaze as piercing as a blade.

  “Faelwen, what is it you seek from us? Why have you come exactly?”

  His voice was calm, but his intensity sent a shiver along my spine. I hesitated, licking my lips before replying.

  “Barnabas noticed the threat of the Underworld far sooner than most. He knew that former High King Talron struck a deal with the Fiend, a deal that now seems to be unravelling. The Fiend grows bolder, sending more and more of his minions into the Mid Realm. If we don’t stop him, he’ll seize the Ancestral Region first. And then…” I glanced at Elandor, my voice firming. “He’ll come for you.”

  “We know of the pact Talron forged with the Fiend,” Elandor responded, his gaze sweeping across the room. “Four of our greatest magi lent their power to create the blood oath. Yet, with Talron’s untimely death, the pact faltered. Without him, its strength has weakened, and now the Fiend stirs in his dark domain, readying himself to spill into the Mid Realm. His hunger is vast, and over the years, he has seduced many to his cause.”

  His piercing eyes fell on Ash, lingering just long enough to make the man shift uncomfortably. Ash held his gaze, his jaw tight, though the weight of Elandor’s scrutiny seemed to cut deeper than words. As if he knew of Ash’s deal with the Fiend.

  It was Elaith, Elandor’s younger son, who broke the moment.

  “We all see the danger,” he said, his voice edged with youthful uncertainty. “But what can we do? Our army is but a shadow of what it once was. What remains could hardly stand against the Fiend’s hordes.”

  An advisor, robed in crimson, leaned forward.

  “And aid from the elves in the fae lands would take too long,” he added. “By then, the Fiend will have claimed Westray and the surrounding lands.”

  The room erupted into debate, voices clashing like swords. The air grew thick with frustration. I exchanged glances with Spook and Ash, their faces mirroring my own apprehension. We were adrift in an ocean of uncertainty, with no clear course to follow. Lord Elandor turned his sharp focus to Ash.

  “Tell me, what do you know of the Fiend’s plans?”

  Ash hesitated, his usual confidence faltering.

  “Not much,” he admitted. “I wasn’t among his inner circle. In his world, I was…” he paused, struggling to find the words. “… nothing to him. Barely noticeable.”

  As he spoke, dread coiled within me like a serpent. I could see it in Ash’s eyes. Reflections of endless legions of demons, human thralls and monstrous creatures bound to the Fiend’s will.

  The image of those massive, dragon-like beasts I’d seen haunted me, and I shivered involuntarily.

  We’re hopelessly outmatched, I thought. Desperation clawed at my chest. In my turmoil, I reached out instinctively to Artemis.

  Hey Buddy… any ideas?

  His soft fur brushed against my leg, and his calm voice echoed in my mind.

  Ask them about the five runestones of creation.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  I blinked, startled.

  The what now?

  Just do it, he replied with his usual air of nonchalance. This wasn’t the first time Artemis seemed to know more than he let on. I was sure to ask him later about this. I seized the next lull in the conversation.

  “What about the runestones of creation?” My voice carried through the chamber like a pebble dropped into still water, silencing the elves. Their collective gazes fixed on me, cold and searching, and I fought the urge to shrink beneath their intensity.

  “Do you even know what you’re speaking of, love?” Ash’s voice was the first to break the silence. I shook my head, my cheeks flushing.

  “No. But maybe… maybe they could help us?”

  Lord Elandor’s expression softened into one of wary contemplation.

  “The Runestones of Creation,” he murmured, as though tasting the words. “Few outside elven lore even know of their existence.” He looked suspiciously down at Artemis as if he too sensed that Artemis was more than he seemed.

  “They are said to be the tools of five young Gods from the Second Realm who wanted to create a new world. Five stones imbued with magic so powerful that they shaped the Realms themselves. The Mid Realm, the First Realm, even the Underworld were born of their union. It is said the runes were entrusted to the first inhabitants of this world for safekeeping, hidden from the eyes of other gods and mortals alike.”

  Beside me, Artemis shifted, his tail brushing my ankle. His tone, as always, was maddeningly casual.

  See? Not such a foolish idea after all.

  “If these runes truly exist,” Spook asked, his voice tinged with awe, “Could they stop the Fiend?”

  Ash’s reply was quiet, almost reverent.

  “They could do more than stop him. They could rewrite the world.”

  Elandor shook his head, his voice weighted with caution.

  “Such power comes at a cost. Only beings of divine essence could hope to wield the runes without consequence. And even if they could… do you have any idea where to find them? The legends say they are guarded by the first inhabitants of this realm. Creatures lost to time.”

  Dragons, Artemis spoke in my mind as if he’d carried the wisdom of ancient beings.

  “Dragons,” I breathed, the world barely audible.

  Elandor’s eyes flickered with something akin to amusement and again his gaze lingered a second longer on Artemis. As if he knew the knowledge about these runes were not from me but from him.

  “If you believe the tales, yes. But dragons vanished from this world long before even my time. They are nothing more than myths now.”

  They’re in the Primordial Lands, Artemis interjected, his voice cutting through my thoughts. I frowned, glancing down at him.

  And you know this how?

  The wild knows more than you might expect, he replied, his tail swishing lazily. Ash turned to Artemis realizing I was talking to him. His brow furrowing he said, “Does he… know where to find these creatures?”

  I relayed the question to Artemis, who responded with an infuriating shrug.

  I might have an idea.

  “He says he might,” I answered hesitantly.

  “This is madness,” Elandor declared, his composure cracking for the first time. “Even if you could find the dragons, if they even exist, they would not part with the runes easily. And the time it would take…” he trailed off, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his thoughts.

  I noticed Elora studying Artemis and a faint knowing smile crossed her lips.

  “Then what alternative do we have?” Elora’s voice was soft yet resolute. All eyes turned to her, her words hanging in the air like a fragile thread of hope.

  “Do we stand by and wait for the Fiend to devour us? Or do we take this chance, however slim, to fight for our survival? I say we trust the wolf.”

  Her younger brother scoffed.

  “We could make another pact with the Fiend.”

  Elora’s laugh was sharp and bitter.

  “As if he would bind himself so easily again. The Fiend is no one’s servant now.”

  Elandor pinched the bridge of his nose, looking more weary and mortal than I had ever seen him.

  “Very well,” he sighed. “We will send search parties into the Primordial Lands. Meanwhile, we will rally what remains of our armies and those of our brethren across the mountains and stand ready to aid the humans. Send out riders to the fae lands to ask for aid.”

  “I propose we lead one of those search parties,” I interjected, my voice firm despite the knot of fear in my chest. Elandor studied me, his gaze heavy with unspoken questions, before nodding.

  “So be it.”

  Elora rose, determination blazing in her eyes.

  “I will join them.” Her father turned his eyes on his youngest and only daughter. His response was immediate and firm.

  “No.”

  “You need me, Father,” she argued, her voice steady and unyielding. “If I go, I can keep you informed, guide them where others cannot. Or would you rather have four strangers go after those runes, with a chance they might never come back? At least with me you can keep in touch.”

  Elandor’s lips pressed into a thin line, the conflict between love and duty written large upon his face. At last, he relented with a weary sigh.

  “We will discuss this later, my dear.”

  Elora readied herself to return with another argument, but her older brother held her back, a firm hand pressed onto her shoulder. She swallowed her argument and sat down.

  Lord Elandor’s attention shifted to us, his voice steady yet heavy with finality.

  “This meeting is adjourned. I suggest you prepare yourselves for the journey. At dawn, we’ll arrange for your teleportation to the nearest city in the Fael Lands.”

  I felt the weight of the dismissal sinking in, yet something clawed at the edges of my mind, a faint flicker of desperation that refused to be silenced.

  “W…Wait,” I stammered, my voice cracking under the sudden surge of hope.

  Lord Elandor’s head tilted slightly, his weariness evident in the subtle drop of his shoulders.

  “What is it?” he asked, his tone softened but tinged with reluctance.

  “Have you…” I swallowed hard, gathering my courage. “Have you heard anything about Barnabas?”

  My words hung in the air, trembling with fragile hope. A shadow crossed Elandor’s face, his ancient features softening with regret.

  “Barnabas…” he murmured, as though tasting the name on his tongue brought bitterness.

  “The last report from my scouts spoke of him being hunted by the King’s Hunters. He was caught near Townhaven, leading the Hunters away from you. In the end he didn’t make it. His body… it was discarded into the sea.” His voice grew quieter, laced with sorrow. “I’m sorry, child. I thought you already knew.”

  The words hit me like a storm-force wind, leaving me hollow and unmoored. A lump rose in my throat, a heavy knot of anguish that refused to dissolve. Ash stiffened next to me and Spook whispered my name.

  Somewhere deep in my heart, I’d known. I’d clung to the fragile thread of hope that maybe, somehow, Barnabas had escaped, that he had made it here to safety.

  But now, that thread was severed. Artemis pressed against my leg, his fur soft and warm, offering a sliver of solace. A low whine escaped him, his golden eyes full of sorrow.

  With those words, the council was dismissed, and I stumbled out of the room in a haze, the sorrow weighing heavily on my chest. I held in my tears. I didn’t want to fall apart yet. I had to show them I could survive. Bring back the Runestones of Creation. Even though my heart had just shattered into a million pieces.

  ? ? ?

  Back in the quiet sanctuary of our quarters, the dam finally broke. Tears stung my eyes and spilled over as I dropped to my knees, pulling Artemis close. My fingers sank into his fur, gripping tightly as though he were the only thing anchoring me to this world.

  I’m so sorry, Wen. I truly hoped he would be here, Artemis’s soothing voice resonated in my mind, a gentle balm to the ache in my heart.

  “Me too, Buddy… me too,” I choked, the words a whisper drowned by the sobs wracking my body. He stayed with me, as I let my grief run its course into the depths of his fur.

  By the time my tears subsided, the sun had dipped behind the mountains, casting the sky in hues of crimson and gold. We sat by the water’s edge, watching the last glimmer of light dance on the rippling surface. I had lit a candle in remembrance of Barnabas, my mentor and protector.

  After a moment of silence, I turned to Artemis.

  “Alright, tell me, Buddy,” I said, my voice still hoarse from crying but steadier. I gently nudged Artemis, seeking some distraction from the heavy cloud still hanging over me.

  “Where did you hear about these runes?”

  Like I said, Artemis replied with a casual flick of his tail, animals have roamed this world longer than your kind. We pass down stories. My ancestors spoke of them, and of the dragons who guarded them. They saw those creatures with their own eyes.

  I raised a skeptical brow, but his steady gaze made it clear that I wouldn’t get more out of him tonight.

  “Fine,” I relented, letting the matter rest. For now. I was too tired anyway.

  The evening unfolded with a rare sense of peace. Spook and Ash seemed to set aside their usual banter, sharing fragments of their pasts with uncharacteristic ease.

  Their stories, though starkly different, wove a strange camaraderie between them. And they were a nice distraction from the heavy pain I still carried in my chest.

  I found myself opening up too, speaking of my family to Spook. Of how my parents met, of Mira, my spirited younger sister.

  For the first time in what felt like ages, genuine smiles replaced the heavy weight of the day. As the moon climbed higher, bathing the world in silver light, we retired to the room.

  I found out that Ash actually had his own room in the palace, but since I arrived he refused to leave this room that was assigned to me and Spook. Somewhere I’d expected Ash to send Spook to another room, but Ash seemed too tired and lost in his thoughts to care for tonight.

  I slipped into bed, Artemis curling at my feet as he always did. Peace was short-lived when Spook jumped into bed. Grief still sat in the room with us, but clearly Spook pretended that it didn’t. His cheeky grin brighter than the moonlight while he wriggled closer.

  “You know,” he began, mischief dripping from his tone, “it’s only fair if we switch places. Faelwen in the middle, the rest of us standing guard.”

  I sighed. Before I could protest, he tugged me to the centre of the bed with surprising ease.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Ash growled, his deep voice rumbling with warning as he yanked me back to the edge. In a fluid motion, he climbed over me, his strong hands planting Spook firmly on the other side. With Spook pinned beneath him he growled, “She’s my love.”

  Those words sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of desire and something unspoken curling my chest. And at the same time I frowned, mumbling something underneath my breath.

  “Can you fight some other time?”

  Both ignored me. Spook held up his hands in mock surrender, though his grin remained.

  “Easy, mate. I know. I know. But you have to admit… I care about her too.”

  Ash’s growl deepened, a low, resonant sound that silenced the playful tension.

  “As… a friend,” Spook quickly amended, shooting me a wink before rolling out of the bed.

  “I’ll sleep in your room,” he said as he grabbed his stuff and slowly walked out of the room. Ash said nothing as he let him go, but his arm snaked around me, pulling me close.

  “Good night, Spook,” I called after him, feeling a little sorry for him. He grumbled something in response. An uneasy feeling burrowed itself inside my stomach, but my thoughts were pulled back to Ash.

  His hand traced the curve of my waist, his touch igniting a fire beneath my skin. His hands stopped at my waist, tugging me closer. I could feel him harden against my back.

  His lips brushed the nape of my neck nibbling softly at my ear, leaving a trail of heat that made my breath hitch.

  “Don’t,” I murmured, though the protest was weak, a mere whisper drowned by the thundering of my heart. He chuckled low, the sound rich with promise, before withdrawing.

  “Not tonight,” he said, his voice a velvet caress that lingered even as he settled beside me. “You’re grieving, I should let you rest.”

  The room fell quiet, save for the soft rhythm of our breaths. Surprisingly, sleep found me easily, drawing me into vivid dreams where Ash’s touch became the melody of a song I couldn’t quite name, each note filled with warmth and longing.

  And for a fleeting moment, the grief of the day melted away, leaving behind only the faintest glimmer of hope that my heart would survive.