David Dalglish - Dawn of Swords

Of course that’s what she meant, and they both knew it. Aully let her shoulders slump.

“I do,” she whispered.

The ancient elf knelt down in front of her and took her by the shoulders. The opaque sheen that always covered her eyes seemed to fade away, leaving a pair of blue-green gems that shone with the strength and knowledge of one who’d lived for a very, very long time.

“Love is a whimsical thing, sweet dear,” she said. “Completely unnecessary in the grand scheme of existence. When Celestia created us, her intention was to form a race of beings whose entire purpose would be to perfect themselves over time. So she made two separate groups-us, the Dezren, and the Quellans-to see which would achieve perfection first. Since the beginning, the Quellan have attempted to shed love from their relationships. All marriages are arranged, just as yours was, and copulation-you will know of it when the time comes-is, by rule, partaken in for breeding, not pleasure. Perfection is expected of all children, and every single day of their long lives is spent attempting to reach a state of absolute grace. These practices have made them a powerful race, much more so than us in our…current condition. To them we are weaklings, slaves to our feelings and personal imperfections. The Quellan say that had it not been for their fighting strength, we all would have perished when the demon kings ravaged our land.”

Aully scrunched up her face, disturbed by her nursemaid’s words.

“That can’t be true,” she said. “We’re just as strong as they are. The stories say we fought by their side in the great war. And there is strength in love, strength that cannot be understood by those who don’t own it.”

Noni smiled. “Ah, from the mouths of babes,” she whispered. “In many ways that is correct, my dear. But always remember that there are different paths to the same goals, and it is best to study those who are not like you, as well as to identify your own shortcomings. Have I not tried to teach you this?”

“You have.”

“Good. And you must also remember that any great strength is, at the same time, a great weakness. It creates pride. It blinds you to alternatives. No matter what happens, keep your eyes open and be ready. Do you understand?”

“I do,” said Aullienna. “Thank you, Miss Noni.”

The nursemaid stroked her fine, golden locks.

“I’ve lived many years,” she said, her eyes softening again. “But you are something special, Aullienna. Never forget that, and never let them break you.”

There was shouting in the hall outside her door, and Aully’s heart leapt into her throat. Noni turned to the entryway, holding her breath. Knuckles pounded on the wood, and Aully’s father announced himself. When Noni unlocked the door, Cleotis stepped inside, his pale complexion an angry red along his cheeks.

“You both must come,” he said, huffing, and turned in a whirl, the cloak he wore over his supertunic flapping like a banner in a strong wind. Aully and Noni both rose and hurried out behind him, joining the line of elves from Stonewood who were filing out of their rooms and progressing down the stairwell.

At the bottom, they were greeted by the smiling faces of Kindren’s parents and a handful of their most devoted sentries. Kindren was nowhere to be seen, however, and something about the expressions on the Thynes’ faces-especially that of Phyrra, Kindren’s mother-seemed off. Their smiles were too wide, as if their flesh were a mask hiding something awful.

“Where is Lucius?” Cleotis asked them the moment he neared. “Where’s Kara?”

“Why are the Ekreissar here?” shouted another of the Dezren elves, and many took up his cry.

“Are we at war?”

“Send the Ekreissar away! We are not prisoners!”

The din became so loud, it felt like Aully’s brain would dribble out her ears. Lord Orden held out his hands, trying to calm the crowd, and Lady Phyrra shouted at the top of her lungs.

“Please quiet down, and we will explain everything to you!” After a few moments of mayhem, Aully’s father joined Lord Orden’s side, and his people listened. The roar shrank to a dull murmur.

Lord Orden stepped forward.

“I understand your confusion,” he said, his voice cracking in a way that Aully didn’t trust. To her youthful ears it sounded a lot like it did when he told her the forest was out of sweetbread just because he wanted her to stop asking for more. “I have been meeting with Neyvar Ruven all morning, as the arrival of his general, Aerland Shen, caught us off guard as well. However, I can assure you that the elite are here for a good reason. They’ve brought disturbing news with them from beyond the forest.”

Lady Phyrra nodded gravely, backing her husband’s words.

“When were we to be informed of this?” asked Aully’s father. “And where are the people I sent to you?”

Lord Orden cleared his throat. Aully noticed a line of sweat trickling down his neck. He began to tug at his collar, and he and his wife shared a strange, offhanded glance.

“Please, come with us,” he said. “The Neyvar wishes to explain everything himself.”

Aully slipped out of Noni’s grasp and pushed to the front of the assembly.

“Will Kindren be there?” she asked, louder than she’d intended. “Will I get to see him?”

Neither the lord nor lady answered her; they turned around and hurried out of the room through doors that were held open by their sentries. The crowd followed them, exiting into the open air beneath an ominous gray sky.

The trip to the gates of Palace Thyne was one Aully had taken nearly every day since arriving in Dezerea, but this morning her feet ached and her back throbbed, and it seemed to take twice, perhaps three times, as long. The Thynes led the Stonewood elves past the monument to Celestia, which stood off to the right of the path. The statue of the benign goddess was naked and standing on tiptoes, one arm crossed over her breasts and the other lifted skyward. On the evening of the New Year, her finger pointed directly to the goddess’s star, burning brightly in the darkened heavens.

Once the monument was behind them, the front quad of the palace opened up. The countless Quellan Ekreissar loomed before them, maintaining formation on the very grounds that had hosted the Tournament of Betrothal not so long ago. Aully shivered as she glanced at them, each standing rigid, as stone-like as Celestia’s statue, their eyes empty of any emotion. They crowded both sides of the path, forcing the procession to narrow. Aully found herself squeezed into the middle, too short to see where she was going, too slight of build to keep from being jostled by the crowd.

“Halt,” she heard a voice shout, and she knew immediately that it was the Neyvar’s.

Her mother’s soft fingers gently wrapped around her forearm, the elegant Lady of Stonewood guiding her through the maze of elves until she stood front and center with her family. Aullienna was frightened by those who were facing them-Orden and Phyrra Thyne, flanked by the massive Aerland Shen with his black, fitted armor, and Neyvar Ruven, surrounded by the conspirators Conall, Aeson, and Iolas. Aully forced herself not to shiver, channeling Brienna’s impudent strength, and she searched for Kindren amidst the throng. She didn’t see him, but her gaze did find Ceredon. The prince of Quellassar stood off to the side, a queer expression overtaking his formerly beautiful features.

Aully’s father turned and hushed the crowd before addressing the Neyvar.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked. “Where are my people?”

“You mean those you sent to spy on us?” the Neyvar replied. He gestured with his left hand, and one of the sentries hauled out Lucius and Kara. Their hands were bound behind their backs, and a fresh bruise covered the right side of Kara’s face, but otherwise they appeared unharmed.