Chapter 23 (13th of Vashi in the year 6199)
To ashes the past must be interred. The soil to be made fertile once more. And new growth will spring forth.
-Seer Dolastati, A Vision on Water 203
Sheala scuttled backwards, her chair laying toppled beside her. Despite her best efforts, the former thief found no sense of balance. Her posterior dragged on the ground as she crab walked back from the table. "What in the name of The Dark is that... that thing!"
Lingering over her plate, eagerly munching away, was a small reptile with bright blue scales. A morsel of meat from her dinner held in its foreclaws, the creature collapsed its wings to its side after appearing abruptly out of nowhere. It seemed rather oblivious to Sheala's sense of panic and concern.
Her initial shock fading, and realizing the creature was more interested in the food than doing her harm, Sheala climbed back up to the edge of the table. Once there, she was witnessed the slack jawed expressions from stunned elves up and down the length of the gathering. All, that was, except Sayra. The First Daughter was busy stifling a giggle in her fist.
Her mother, the Aval El'brim took notice of her daughter's reaction. "Daughter," laced throughout her parental tone was a dire seriousness, "what is Sheetah doing here?"
The eyes of those assembled descended on the younger, silver-haired elf, unsure how to react to the mischief. It was obviously not appropriate, but none seemed willing to question or confront her. Save for her mother, that was.
Sheala reached out a shocked finger to touch the creature before her, trying to poke it. She wanted to see if it was real or imaginary. It didn't seem anywhere near as threatening as a few moments ago. Sheetah chittered and then snapped at her, causing the ambassador to withdraw in a flash with a yelp.
The First Son, his fingers rubbing his brow with an obvious annoyance, interjected. "I must apologize. I had asked my beloved not to bring her pet dragon to the dinner tonight." Then he cast her a sideways glance. "It appears my request was not heeded."
"Nor mine," her mother confirmed. "For I requested the same."
"Oh, come on!" The First Daughter answered, no longer holding in her laughter. "I left Sheetah with Denas. Not my fault he doesn't know how to keep her distracted for more than an hour!"
"D-dragon?" Sheala stammered the word out. "That's not a dragon. It's... it's so small."
"Sheetah is a blue dragon." Sayra held out her hand and added a subtle clicking noise with her tongue. The reptilian creature immediately took notice, turned its attention to her, and scampered up her arm. It rested on her shoulder, still merrily munching away.
"But, dragons are big. Aren't they?" Two servants came and reset Sheala's chair for her to sit once more.
"Blacks and reds that the empire has at their disposal are large, yes. Blues are petite in comparison. Sheetah is very much fully grown. Greens, which also live among us, are about the size of a horse. But, if you really want to see a monstrous dragon? Head to the northern continent and hunt down a white."
"Well, I've seen an archeon. So I've seen a pretty big dragon already."
"Archeon?" the Aval El'brim asked. "You've been to the Telowan Islands?"
"Not by choice." She peered down the table to where Reane sat. Her friend raised her glass of wine in a mock salute.
"Ah. Please, accept the apologies of our people. My daughter does not sometimes attend to her station with the same seriousness as I would prefer that she does."
"Like mother like daughter." Now her husband spoke for the first time.
"Excuse me?"
"Please, don't play coy. You were no different."
"Tranas Tynara!" The reaction from the Aval El'brim while seeming genuine with shock also displayed a certain playfulness that was unmistakable. "Your words are out of line."
"Please. I am Tranas Tynara, formerly Tranas Reywa, and former First Son of the House of Reywa. I am counselor to the Aval El'brim." He drank lazily from his juice. "I will always speak the truth. And, unlike my brother," he motioned to the man seated in the place of honor reserved for the head of the House of Reywa, "I am not required to be silent in your presence." Then he addressed Sheala directly. "I know the First Daughter has requested we speak only in common, but I do want to give you the traditional greeting that we would give to all of our guests." Then in elvish, he added, "Madea yara tuvea."
*Just say what I tell you,* Reane's voice popped into her head. *Dele ii doa collea.*
"Dele ii doa collea," Sheala repeated, although confused as to what she was saying.
"You speak elven?" he replied with a raised eyebrow.
"No-," Sheala stammered. "My friend is- um-" She once more looked down the line at the captain of the Oracle.
Tranas followed her eyes. "Ah, the Seer of Denang." He chuckled with a full belly laugh. "In that case I won't bother asking why you just inquired as to the whereabouts of my laundry."
Even at this distance Sheala could hear as Reane choked on the wine in her mouth.
"I'm sorry," Sheala apologized. She wanted to withdraw to the shadows. She'd already screwed up.
"Nonsense," The Aval El'brim once more spoke up. "By all rights we should apologize to you for any inconvenience you have suffered. In our society you are a revered symbol."
"I'm must admit that I am not very comfortable with such a position."
The First Son broke in. "I would think one of your standing would be used to such attention."
"Ittan," Sayra's father admonished. "The Child of the Storm is not as she appears to you. This is not her or the way she is." He motioned to her fancy attire. "Can you not see that? She is full of energy and vigor and does not enjoy being contained. Just as the wind would rather howl, she yearns to be free from the constraints placed upon her."
Sheala blushed. "Listen, I really want to get this over with and return to Fimmirra. Not to sound ungrateful? But I'm told that my presence here is nothing more than for ceremony anyway. If I could, I'd like to get back home as soon as possible."
Tranas shook his head. "Child of the Storm-"
"Please," she interrupted as politely as she could. "Please don't call me that."
"Then what should we call you? It is your name."
"My name is Sheala. It's the only one I've ever known."
Sayra's mother smiled before offering a solution. "Perhaps Ambassador Stormband instead?"
Sheala nodded, feeling she could live with that title.
"But you are not just some symbol that we have been awaiting," the Aval El'brim continued. You are also the holder of one of the keys." She pointed to the medallion about her neck. "You can't just leave. There is much you must do before-"
"Listen, at the risk of sounding rude, I'm not really here to do anything except facilitate relations between your people and my uncle."
*Sheiaa!* Reane reprimanded.
*Reane stay out of this!* Sheala cast her friend green fire from her eyes and down the table before continuing her response out loud. "I don't know the first thing about being a revered symbol. I'm- I'm just an ex-con who grew up on the streets of a rough town. If anything? I am a fool."
"If that is what you believe," Ittan conceded, "then that is all you will ever be."
Tranas regarded his nephew and nodded. "Ittan speaks the truth. Within you is something that can change the world. The prophecies have foreseen it. The medallion you wear marks you as special, like the one my wonderful daughter, The First Son's bride to be, also wears. It gives you strength from the Greater Goddess herself."
Sayra added, "Everything you were and everything you are now will help you become what you will be. Your father and mother were tragic casualties of a long and burdensome war. Lord Hedric knows the legends, and he's no fool. He knew that when the Child of the Storm came, it would be a blow against his quest to recover the Tear of Earoni and possess its power for himself."
Sheala muttered, "The ambush-"
"Yes, and it was a sad day. For years it isolated us from the outside world, and it forced the Hitithe Rebellion deep into hiding for fear of retribution because of misconceptions and lies underlying the true culprits of the attack. Luckily though, your father gave the medallions to you and your sister. And both of you were spared."
"But I don't know where Cass is."
"Fear not," Sayra spoke. "She will emerge when the time is right. It is her destiny. And the Tear of Earoni will not only be returned to this world, but into the right hands."
Sheala looked down at the piece of metal she wore, a sudden sickness filling her stomach. "I wish I knew where she was."
Sayra faced her mother and father before she uttered her next words. Their eyes instructed her to choose what she said carefully. "I fear darker times will befall us all before the three are once again united. It is best that you try not to think about her. Know that she is safe. The medallion she possesses will not allow any harm to come to her."
"How do you know that?"
"I may not be descended from great Seers, like your friend, but there are many things that are revealed to me with my connection to the fairies."
"And like others," Sheala's words were a low growl. "You're going to hide those from me too?" She gave Reane a look from the corner of her eye.
"Come, Ambassador Stormband," Tranas Tynara interrupted before the First Daughter could respond. "I do not mean to tear you away from the magnificent food you have hardly touched, but we have a gift for you." He rose, as did his daughter, his wife, and the First Son.
*Reane?* Sheala asked mentally, knowing her friend was hanging around in the recesses of her thoughts, waiting.
*I'm just as much in the dark as you are.*
Reading their silent exchange, the Aval El'brim then added, "Please, bring your friend. The Child of Prophecy is also of importance to all that will become. I promise that you will have plenty of time to finish eating."
The First Daughter retrieved the lantern from the table and a few more pieces of food for Sheetah to continue snacking on as Sheala and Reane also rose. Servants seemed willing to follow, but with a wave from her hand, Celeve Tynara signaled such was unnecessary. After a few uneasy and uncertain glances, they obeyed.
Sheala and her friend walked the length of the table to arrive at the other side and join the elven leaders ready to lead them off. The small congregation did not need to go a great distance, only around to the far side of the glowing tree with the blue-green leaves and to where they were shielded from the view of the other dinner guests. Sheala took immediate notice of a massive root that sprang from the main trunk. It ran a long distance along the ground before disappearing into the soil.
Sayra stepped forward and kneeled, placing a hand on the oddity while holding the lantern in the other. Sheetah just kept on eating. "Greater Goddess, the chosen one has come. It is time."
As her words ended, the earth rumbled. Like a great serpent, the root pulled out of the dirt and raised above them all as though ready to strike. With a step back, the dagger hidden in the cuff of Sheala's sleeve was unconsciously in her hand.
Ittan touched her arm softly, drawing a nervous twitch as the ambassador looked at him. He smiled. "This place knows not of such things. Leave your weapon."
Despite his attempt at reassurance, Sheala refused to do so. Instead, coaxing it back into its home.
The First Son shook his head, witnessing her refusal to listen and how she ignored his request and council.
Now revealed beneath where the great root had once resided was a passage and stairs disappearing into a void beneath the massive tree in the center of the clearing. "Come," Sayra requested. The lantern held high, she descended into the darkness.
The rest followed, although Reane did so with more hesitancy. Believing she could hear voices whispering from the shadows, the captain lagged at the rear. The tunnel wound deep underground, roots of the unusual tree breaking through the ceiling and walls of the corridor. Reane could not tell if elven hands created this passageway or if its existence was entirely natural. Smooth stones lined the floor, which implied the former.
Ittan, who had been directly behind Sayra, dropped back with a deliberately slowed pace until he walked stride for stride with Reane at the rear. He could tell how uneasy she was at being unable to read not only his thoughts but also those of his kinfolk.
"Tell me, Child of Prophecy, what do you see?"
"Nothing that I care to."
The First Son swung in front of her to halt her progress. The rest continued on, not noticing, and the light from the lantern grew more faint with every step that separated them." Are you aware of your role? But of course you are. That was a silly question for me to ask a Seer of Denang. You are an important link in the chain of time, yet you still try to hide from your own fate while pushing others to theirs. Why is that?"
"I've changed the future. My fate has not been determined."
"You know that some things cannot be changed, no matter how hard we try."
"My fate is mine to control, not the gods."
"But you've run for so long," Ittan observed. "As a little girl you foresaw your own death. You promised yourself to change it, but look? You have already come so far down the path you promised yourself that you would not. Why? For a hope at love that you know is not meant to be?"
"You obviously have a great knowledge about what is coming. Especially about me."
Ittan smiled. "While the Seers of Denang were perhaps the wisest of all, our people are not without their own means to foresee the future. But, prophecies are often vague. Surprisingly, they show nothing about the aftermath of our course and show that the future is in our own hands to control. Tell me though, what is your vision."
"Three pillars will fall before each can be rebuilt stronger than before," Reane muttered the stark description of one of her dreams. It was years old. She thought perhaps from when she was about fifteen, but it had stuck with her since. "And a child must be sacrificed to save the foundation upon which each will be built anew."
Ittan stepped aside, and they began to move forward again as the light held by Sayra was almost vanished in the distance.
"Not a very pleasant sounding vision considering two of those sacrifices have already been selected."
"I'll correct you there. None of those that must die are chosen."
With a nod, Ittan conceded. "Then your information is better than ours. Still, knowing what the options are it can not be pleasant to watch as events unfold."
"Few of the visions I see ever are. Or so it seems. Both Fimmirra and the Elven Kingdoms will be destroyed before the darkness over the land is dismissed."
"That is something I am prepared to live with if there is hope of better days to come."
"And if there's not?"
Her question plunged them into silence as they caught up to the others who were up ahead in an illuminated cavern. Sayra stood inside the entrance, waiting for the two stragglers. Ittan nodded at her and Sayra smiled back.
There were no torches in the subterranean chamber, although it was bright as day. Sayra extinguished her magical light in favor of the one already present.
On prominent display in the center was a large chest carved from emerald. It was trimmed in gold along each of the edges and more ornate than anything Sheala had witnessed since arriving here. The walls were held back by rib like roots along the length of each wall, while the air was fresh and not stale like a tomb, as one might have imagined. There was even a light breeze that flowed through the cavity.
Sayra approached the chest and spread her hands across the lid. "Ani," she whispered, and the lid opened back on its own allowing her to reach inside and pick out the lone object within. Long and rigid, it was covered by layers upon layers of colorful cloth swathes. Displayed before her, Sayra returned with it to Sheala. "This is for you, Ambassador Stormband."
As Sayra held it out, Sheala hesitated at first, but took the gift. She peeled back the layers of fabric to first reveal the finely crafted golden hilt underneath. The rest of the cloths fell away and Sheala was left holding a sword encased in a darkly finished wooden scabbard inlaid with fine scrolls of bright metal.
"It may only be wielded by The Storm," Sayra explained and then stepped back. "No others may touch it." To illustrate her words, the First Daughter reached for the weapon. Just before her hand touched the scabbard, a streak of blue energy jumped and bit her hand. Sayra gasped, but took the pain to make her point.
Fingers wrapping around the hilt of the sword, Sheala gave it a gentle tug, feeling as it resisted. There was a catch over the crossbar and Sheala pushed it back. As she released the lock and pulled once more, a blade of Silver Steel marked with runes glimmered forth in the room's light.
Reane felt overcome and grabbed her head. Thoughts started to at first crowd into her mind, but then retreated. She hadn't expected it, but she knew in that instant the sword had at least something resembling a will of its own. And a powerful will it was. One that had sensed her and was now trying to hide from her.
Sheala's medallion vibrated with an energy unlike any it had ever exuded. It grew warmer than before, no matter how close her sister had been. When Sayra kneeled before the Child of the Storm, the other elves, despite their lofty stations, followed her lead.
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