Silevethiel Read online

  “Yes,” she answered. “Though Garret was younger than my father, he and Elodia were married long before my parents. As a result, Elthad is almost ten years my senior.”

  “What was the cause for their hatred?”

  “When I was young, I believed that because of my birth, they would not inherit the throne upon my father’s death. However, as I grew older, my father hinted that the true reason for their hostility was my mother.”

  “Because she was half-elven?”

  “Aye, that is partly the reason.” She paused in recollection. “My mother’s reasons for keeping her heritage a secret all her life proved true in the end, but that was not the only reason she was despised. She was a commoner. Her father was a poor farmer from the lands north of Dürgeld. I do not know the heritage of her elven mother, but whether or not she was royalty would not have mattered. Her father’s blood, the human blood, was not of a royal family of Dargon. In Garret and Elodia’s opinion, my mother was not fit to be queen. Consequently, neither was I.”

  “Was Elthad aware of your mother’s background? Did he share the same views as his parents?”

  “I cannot say for certain,” she responded, “though it stands to reason. We were never close, but he always treated me well enough. Once my father appointed him the Captain of the royal soldiers, I hardly ever saw him. In fact, the morning of father’s murder was the first time I had seen Elthad in over six months.”

  “If he shares his parents’ hostility, what will happen should he tell the people of Dargon about your heritage? Will their loyalty to you remain true?”

  Laegon’s last words hung menacingly in the air like a pernicious shade. Silence fell between them. She looked into his eyes, her normally graceful features taut with fear. The thought that she wouldn’t be accepted with open arms upon her return hadn’t crossed her mind. Yet Laegon’s speculation held a certain degree of validity. Once Elthad became aware of her survival, the simplest and most effective way for him to ensure the people of Dargon remained loyal to him would be to reveal her ancestry. Once it was known she not only had elven blood, but the blood of a commoner, she would be an exile, never again able to set foot within the borders of her beloved country without fear of death.

  She suddenly realized that although she had told Laegon she was a fugitive, she had never truly believed it herself. She had accepted that she would need to run from Elthad but hadn’t considered the possibility she would be shunned by her own people. She had fully intended to return to the castle in Dürgeld and reclaim the throne. If Laegon’s supposition proved true, as she suspected it would, the hopes and dreams that only moments before had given her life meaning and purpose would never come to fruition.

  Lord Brandir had offered her refuge in Silverden, but because she was quarter-elven, she would never truly belong there either. She was completely and utterly alone.

  “How could I not see?” she cried. “I have been such a fool. Though I knew it would take time, I planned to remove Elthad from the throne and avenge my father’s assassination. I never intended to take your father’s generous offer and seek refuge in Silverden. But now...” She paused and stared numbly into the fire. “There is nowhere else I will ever be welcome.”

  “Perhaps you were a bit foolish, my lady,” Laegon replied tenderly, “but you were certainly not a fool. Without those intentions, there would have been no reason for you to fight for survival. Without them, not even Silevethiel would have been able to pull you away from the brink.”

  “And would it have been a tragedy if she had not?” she snapped. “What did saving my life accomplish? What do I now have to contribute to this world? I am an outcast without anything to offer. My life has no purpose or meaning. I am nothing.”

  “We all have a purpose in this world, Irewen, whether for good or for evil. You were meant to live, just as Silevethiel and I were meant to aid you. Perhaps the people of Dargon are lost to you. Perhaps there is nothing you can do to save them from Elthad’s maliciousness. But what of the rest of the world? What of the people of Thaurod and other countries, both human and elven, who have never been Dargon’s ally? What of the smaller kingdoms that Elthad could conquer in the blink of an eye? What of the elves of Mistwood who have offered you their safety and protection? Will you allow the rest of the world to suffer Elthad’s corruption? Will you help us stand against his evil?”

  “Of course I will help, Laegon. Whatever his intentions, I could not bear to sit back idly and watch my cousin’s destructiveness spread throughout these lands. But I have no skills to offer. What difference could I possibly make?”

  “I do not know much, my lady. But I am absolutely certain that you will make all the difference in the world.”

  “I am glad you have such unerring faith in me, Laegon, for I have saved none for myself. Without your support I would be lost. Without you, I would be lost.”

  Laegon met her gaze, his light olive cheeks turning a delicate pink at the unexpected sentiment. He reached over and brushed a stray curl from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

  Irewen studied him, trying not to let her confusion show. What was happening between them? What was the reason for her attraction? Was it simply a matter of respect and appreciation for everything he’d done for her, or was it friendship? Perhaps it the beginning of something far deeper— something she never imagined she would come to experience.

  Whatever it was, she never wanted it to end.

  Intent on allowing himself time to sort out his thoughts and enjoy the crisp winter air, Laegon made sure Irewen was sleeping soundly before he quietly left the cave. He kept Brégen’s words of warning from the previous night close to his heart and didn’t go further than a few feet outside the entrance, extending the range of his Sight to ensure no one would take him by surprise. With his heightened senses, he would know immediately of another’s presence within a thirty yard radius.

  Opening a channel to Irewen with his Sight, he was as aware of her condition as if he was the one resting securely near the warmth of the fire. He highly doubted there would be any disturbance; nevertheless, he erected a small magical shield around the princess’s slender form, providing her with added protection against the unlikely event of an attack.

  Only once all of these defenses were in place did he allow himself to enjoy his surroundings. It had snowed twice more since they had sought refuge in Dremond’s Cave. Soon, he became entranced by the enchanted qualities of the winter wonderland. He was tall, even for an elf, and the accumulation of snow on the ground came just above his knees. Its smooth surface was beautifully devoid of even the tiniest of footprints.

  Huge evergreen trees towered before him. Their branches, caked with inches of heavy snow, drooped so low that he was amazed they remained attached to the thick trunks. The few needles and branches devoid of snow were covered in tiny ice crystals that sparkled like diamonds in the afternoon sunlight.

  Laegon imagined the setting would make the perfect home for miniature winter fairies—if such creatures existed. He could almost see tiny winged creatures clad in blue and silver flitting merrily about the ice and snow—oblivious of the troubles threatening their larger kin.

  But nothing moved. There wasn’t the slightest hint of sound or the tiniest breath of wind. The stillness was almost unbearable. Save for each other’s company, he and Irewen were alone.

  The calmness of the landscape was deceiving. He knew all too well how treacherous Mistwood’s conditions were in the winter. No one would risk an attack during the harshness of the winter months. He would keep his wards in place, but he suspected they had no cause for concern.

  Somewhat more relaxed, Laegon let his mind wander to the princess’s elven blood. He knew Irewen’s ancestor wasn’t one of the Wood Elves. All elves in Mistwood resided in Silverden, making it an extremely tight-knit society. He or his father would have known if anyone had left for any reason, especially to marry someone outside the community.

  No, Irewen’s ancestor was f
rom one of the other three elven nations. But which?

  He was vaguely familiar with the history of the Light Elves and knew even less of the Green Elves and Sea Elves. They were all extremely solitary and reclusive, and hardly ventured outside their lands, even to communicate with their distant elven kin. He couldn’t recall even one occasion in the Wood Elves’ recent history where they had any dealings with any of the other three elven races. Nevertheless, Brégen’s last words tugged at the back of his mind. He suddenly remembered a piece of the Light Elves’ lore and immediately opened up to his Guardian with Míendvel.

  «Brégen,» he asked, «are you familiar with the prophecy of the Light Elves involving a woman with mixed blood who it is believed will unite the four elven races, saving all of Vaelinel from destruction?»

  «Oh, aye, my noble prince. It is quite an amusing story.»

  «Do you know anything more?»

  «This is most intriguing. You have the beautiful and captivating Irewen to keep you company during these cold winter days. I would not have thought you would need my unparalleled storytelling abilities to fill the long hours.»

  Laegon scowled, making quite certain the lion was aware of his disapproval. «Do not be so impertinent, Brégen. Just tell me what you know of the prophecy.»

  «As I am sure you are aware,» the lion explained, «when the elves first came to these lands, they were united as one people and settled in present-day Silverden. They coexisted peacefully for a time, but as the years passed, their differences slowly surfaced. Eventually, they divided into four distinct groups. The Wood Elves stayed at the settlement while the others left to discover and build their new homes: The Green elves to the east, the Sea Elves to the far southwest, and the Light Elves to the north.

  «Many forget that at one time, all elves had the gift of Foresight. But since the Divide, only the Light Elves have been able to maintain the ability. Because of it, they are the most reclusive, even among their own kind. In general, the visions are extremely vague and frequently misleading. Even ones with exceptional farseeing ability can often times misinterpret what they see. That being said, every vision has come true in some form or another. All save one.

  «The prophecy you spoke of has yet to be fulfilled. It was seen only a few years after the Divide by a young girl, no more than ten. The daughter of a Wood Elf and Light Elf, she was greatly affected by the elves’ bitterness. Shunned by both communities, Irwiendel and her parents were outcasts. They lived one day at a time, never staying long in any given place, until they met a sympathetic family who let them build a small cottage on their land.

  «When Irwiendel had her vision, her mother, being a Wood Elf, wanted to disregard it completely. But Irwiendel was so detailed in her descriptions that her father felt it should not be ignored. He knew that because of her age and mixed blood, his daughter would immediately be dismissed, so he petitioned the Lord of the Light Elves himself. After many attempts, he was eventually granted an audience with Lord Greldir, and relayed Irwiendel’s vision as his own.

  «At first, Greldir gave credence to the prophecy and added a written account of the vision to the archives. Unfortunately, it became known that it was not the man’s foresight, but his daughter’s. Lord Greldir quickly banished them from Lilendvelle.

  «It is said Irwiendel’s parents soon died from grief and despair. She wandered the lands alone, eventually finding her way to the Sea Elves. They took pity on her and welcomed her into the community as one of their own. Although Lord Greldir denounced her vision, a select handful of Light Elves took it quite seriously and made a point to pass it to their offspring. Not much more is known beyond what you have already mentioned, other than the world would be threatened by a king of men.»

  «Does the document still exist?» Laegon asked in the uneasy silence that followed.

  «As a rule, nothing entered into the archives is destroyed. Unfortunately, I cannot say whether or not Greldir held true to that custom. Why this sudden interest?»

  «I was pondering Irewen’s elven ancestry when something you said nagged in the back of my mind.»

  «My memory is not as good as it used to be. Which of my words of wisdom are causing you so much distress?» Brégen asked innocently, feigning ignorance.

  «I am not as gullible as you may think, Guardian,» Laegon answered with a sly grin. «You share the same suspicion as I.»

  «And what would that be, Protector?»

  Laegon rolled his eyes at his Guardian’s evasive stubbornness. «That Irewen is the woman spoken of in Irwiendel’s prophecy, and that Elthad is the king whose rule will threaten the whole of the land.»

  «Aye, tis true,» Brégen finally acquiesced.

  Laegon couldn’t help but laugh at the huge grin he knew to be plastered on the lion’s face. «And when were you planning on informing me?»

  «There is nothing to fret over, my faithful Protector. I was simply allowing you time to enjoy your privacy with the ‘exquisite’ Irewen. It would all have come to your attention in good time.»

  «I see,» Laegon replied curtly, not bothering to hide his annoyance. He wasn’t sure if he was more irritated with himself for becoming so entranced with Irewen that he unknowingly transmitted his feelings for her to Brégen, or with his Guardian for soaking up the juicy gossip like an old biddy busting her gut to spread the spicy details around the entire village.

  «Well,» he snorted, «when you have finished being the Guardians’ official gossip king, perhaps you would care to tell me what you propose we do? Shall I tell Irewen of the prophecy? Her emotional state is extremely fragile. I do not know if she can handle much more. It is likely she would not believe the prophecy. Even if she did, I can almost guarantee she would not believe she was the one to which it referred. After all, we have no proof.»

  «You are quite right, Laegon,» Brégen agreed. «She is not ready to receive such information. I think it is best to say nothing until she meets Silevethiel. The Dame knows more than she is telling me. I suspect she is waiting until she speaks with Irewen personally. Simply continue to aid in the princess’s recovery and keep her safe. However, I do think it would be wise to pique her curiosity about her mother’s kin. If she develops an interest in discovering her elven ancestry, we can learn a great deal without alerting her of the prophecy until it becomes necessary.»

  Though he knew the Guardian couldn’t see, Laegon nodded his head approvingly. «Aye. She is still concerned about what to do once she is well enough to leave the cave. Perhaps a search through the Wood Elves’ familial archives in Silverden would be in order. There are no accounts of a mixed coupling in our recent history. For anyone to have blood of all four elven races, we will have to search our records in the time period near the Divide.»

  «A search of the Light Elves’ archives would also be beneficial,» the lion instructed. «Before the Divide, the four distinct races existed. They were extremely territorial, even within the confines of Silverden. Elves rarely coupled with others outside their own community. My humble opinion is that the woman in her vision was one of her own descendant’s. We already know Irwiendel shared the blood of a Light Elf and Wood Elf. It stands to reason that when she sought refuge with the Sea Elves, she eventually mothered a child. If that is the case, only the blood of a Green Elf would be needed to fulfill the requirements in the prophecy.

  «It certainly stands to reason, my friend,» mused Laegon. «Permission to access the Light Elves’ records would not be too difficult to obtain. I may be able to find the written account of Irwiendel’s prophecy while we are there. I will see what I can do to spark Irewen’s curiosity.»

  «Well done. And Laegon?»

  «Yes?»

  «I resent being thought of as an old biddy.»

  «Not to worry, my friend. It is just a term of endearment.»

  Although Brégen grunted to show his displeasure at the mimicry, Laegon could feel the lion fighting to hold back his laughter. Beaming to himself, he turned towards the cave entrance.
He sometimes wondered how others managed to get through their days without the constant companionship and everlasting friendship of a Guardian.

  5

  A VOICE PENETRATED IREWEN’S DEEP SLEEP.

  Her father said only one word, her name, but he was so desperate in his calling that she was immediately pulled from her slumber. She woke, searching in vain for the man she knew wouldn’t be there, couldn’t be there. Sorrow filled her heart anew when he didn’t answer her silent plea. But amidst the all too familiar grief, there flowered a warm bubble of joy.

  She had heard his voice, and she had not forgotten.

  Sensing the princess’s sudden alarm, Laegon started. The agitation emanating from her body was so strong he felt it seeping into his bones. Rushing to her side, he took her hands in his. “I am here, Irewen,” he assured her. “You are safe. It was simply a bad dream.”

  “No.” Irewen shook her head vigorously; stubbornness evident in her clear blue eyes. She wanted to believe his words, but she couldn’t. Her father had been a recurring figure in her nightmares since his death. This time was different. This was real.

  “It was him,” she insisted. “He was there. I felt him. I heard him.”

  “Who?” Laegon asked, feeling Brégen’s constant presence in his mind grow stronger.

  “Father!” Irewen screamed. Throwing away the blanket she abruptly sat up. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

  Laegon placed his arm solidly around her shoulders, attempting to comfort her as her slender body trembled violently against his. “Try to calm down, Irewen. Everything will be fine. Take a deep breath and tell me what happened.”

  Closing her eyes, she took a few moments to regain her composure. She desperately wanted to hear her father’s voice once again. At the same time, she dreaded reliving the experience. He hadn’t spoken her name in order to recount happy times and fond memories. His call had been frantic and urgent. Although she’d pleaded for him to continue – to tell her what he knew – she hadn’t been prepared to hear his words. Even now, the memory of the tone in his voice sent chills down her back. What evils had he wanted to reveal?