David Dalglish - Dawn of Swords

Of course, lunchtime also meant she was only a single short hour away from spending the rest of her day with her betrothed. Ever since the tournament, the two youths had become inseparable. Aullienna was enthralled by Kindren’s sense of humor and chivalry-never was there a puddle he wouldn’t carry her across, a time she slipped when he didn’t catch her before she fell. Of course, Kindren would always poke fun at her for it afterward, telling her if she watched the ground as carefully as she did him, she’d stumble less. They were always wandering about the streets of Dezerea, exploring the palace grounds and the tree huts of the surrounding forest. They chatted with anyone who was willing to give them the time of day, and it seemed as though much of the city was taken with them.

Some of the Dezren began calling them The Common Royalty , a nickname Aullienna, who came from Stonewood, where people were on equal footing regardless of their station, much appreciated.

Aullienna and her parents were staying in the East Garrison, an elegant structure that looked like a miniature version of Palace Thyne. Aully’s window overlooked the forest and the hilltops bordering the Rigon River, and on many a morning she sat at that window in rapt attention, watching as the sun slowly rose over the rounded, grassy peaks. The consulate from Quellassar was also staying in the East Garrison, which meant she spent several hours in the same space as Ceredon Sinistel. They often passed each other in the Garrison’s jade halls, and over the span of a few days they had taken to conversing lightly. Despite the irritability and general unfriendliness Ceredon had displayed on the day of the tournament, Aully began to see a different side of him. Although he was a bit uptight and full of himself, he seemed to mean well. As they began to warm to each other, she decided that his heart rang nearly as true as Kindren’s. Aully excused his previous behavior as that of an uncertain son who felt pressure to live up to his demanding father’s reputation. Besides, he was beautiful, his features as flawless as the rest of his family’s, which made him agreeable to look upon.

The sound of something rapping on hollow metal wrested her from her daydream. Kindren gazed at her with excitement in his eyes, the tips of his fingers brushing the bare portion of her upper arm, and Aullienna’s insides melted.

“Aully, look at this,” he said, pointing to a giant, round brass shield that stood as tall as she did. The words Ambar e Fuin were engraved on it, The Fate of Darkness . Aully felt another of Kindren’s stories coming on, and she leaned her elbows on the pedestal nearest her, cradling her chin in her palms. “This shield belonged to Jimel Horlyne,” he said, “the honorable warrior who, legend has it, fought the demon kings that laid siege to Kal’droth a thousand years ago. He was the tallest elf ever born, towering over his brothers and sisters by at least a head. That’s him right there.”

Kindren pointed up and Aully followed his finger, gasping in horror at the behemoth that seemed to be bursting out of the cavern roof. Its enormous head contained a mouth that was opened in an eternal scream, bellowing down at her in pained silence. Unlike the rest of the statuary, this one was just a face and a sword arm. That face was appalling, cheeks lined with creases, nose withered away, teeth chipped and broken. It was beyond her why anyone had decided to embed the partial statue up there, nestled among the stalactites.

As if sensing her question, Kindren said, “According to the tombs, Jimel is the elf who banished Sluggoth the Slithering Famine from this world. During a great battle, he allowed himself to be swallowed by the beast, which stood a hundred feet high. He slowly hacked away at the demons inside with his sword, slicing through its underbelly. He slayed it so that Celestia could banish its poisonous presence from the realm.” Kindren’s expression appeared reflective, almost sad. “The statue reflects the last any saw of him: Jimel, the great warrior, appearing through a rain of blood and entrails, sword leading, his face shriveled, his body rife with infection. He made the ultimate sacrifice for his people so that many more could live.”

“You respect him.”

Kindren bowed. “I more than respect him, Aully. Of all the stories, his is the greatest. When I was younger I dreamed of being him, of giving my own life to protect my sisters and parents. Then it would be me memorialized like Jimel up there-it would be me about whom the stories are told.”

“When you were younger ,” Aully snickered. “As if you are old now. But why would you want to be him? That’s stupid.”

Kindren looked over at her suddenly, seemingly shocked by her words. “It is? But why?”

She pointed at the carved figure. “Because he probably had a wife and children, and when he was gone, they were left alone. But you’re alive, and you’re mine . You’d do me no good as a stone statue, Kindren, remembered in fairy tales. I want you by my side, now and forever.”

“But the glory.…”

“Glory? There hasn’t been a war in this land for centuries. All we have are fancy stories, and it’s one thing to play pretend, swinging a branch like it’s a sword. ‘In the mind there are heroes,’ my father once told me. ‘But in the world there is only life and the struggle to keep it.’ Those might be simple words, but they’re true. I’m beginning to like you a lot, Kindren. The last thing I would want is for you to run off and play champion while I’m at home with young babes. It wouldn’t be fair.”

She crossed her arms and huffed.

“And if you did, the least you could do is bring me with you,” she added.

Kindren laughed.

“What’s so funny?” asked Aully, squinting.

“You’re only twelve, huh?” he said.

“Yeah. What of it?”

“Only that you speak with more wisdom than those twenty times your age. You truly are an extraordinary girl.”

Aully felt her cheeks flush. “Thank you,” she replied.

“I mean it. You’re wonderful.”

She slipped her elbows off the podium and snaked her hand through the crook of his arm. “So are you,” she said. “But I’m serious. If something bad happens, we fight together. Understood?”

“Understood,” laughed Kindren.

They continued their exploration, wandering through cavern after cavern. Aully marveled at the craftsmanship of the sarcophagi and the untold riches that had been buried with the deceased. In a couple of the chambers torches still burned, remnants of the last mourners to visit their particular ancestral burial nooks, but mostly they had only Kindren’s oil-soaked bundle of twig and twine to light the way. Kindren told her the crypts were rarely visited any more. Given the lifespan of elves, he said, many regarded death as the last stopover on the way to returning to Celestia’s bosom. With the great length of their lives, the end, by the time it came, was greeted openly by both the dying and those left behind. The only tombs called on with any sort of regularity were those containing the unfortunate who had been taken before their time or those of the great heroes of old.

Aully didn’t really understand that line of thinking, as the thought of losing her own parents, who themselves had lived long lives, paralyzed her with fear, but she kept her objections to herself.

As the floor sloped further downward, there came a constant plink-plink of dripping water. Though the passageways grew narrower and more claustrophobic, the chambers they opened up into became grander and grander in terms of both size and the amount of treasure they contained. Here they found no lit torches, no signs of visitation.