Authors: Aya Knight
“We arrive at the central tower,” the elven guard announced.
Even more incredible up close, it caused Kale to crick his neck while attempting to view the entire structure. The gold accents upon the tower looked as though vines were climbing around the cylinder-shaped wall. Each golden vine shimmered in the sunlight, creating the visual of the tower itself sparkling. There were no windows or balconies; the building was completely solid, aside from a single entryway.
“Come.” The guard urged them to continue up a short flight of stone steps ending at two enormous green doors.
Kale could see a pair of guards, stationary, staring with blank expression.
“Well, don’t they look delightful?” Kale softly joked.
“Close your mouth, Kale!” Neelan scolded, nudging her elbow into his side.
Their escort spoke to the other two men in Ceruya, the language of high elves, and Kale could only assume it was about meeting with the council. He could instantly tell when the subject of humans was mentioned by the disgusted stares they gave Kale and his friends. After the conversation ended, the two guards moved from their position to push the grand doors open. They creaked inward, revealing a large open room lit by hundreds of candles.
“You may enter.” The guard bowed toward Neelan, “Farewell and good luck.” He turned and left down the stone steps.
The other two guards held their arms extended toward the room, signaling for them to move inside. Neelan led the way as the group entered the area. Their shoes pattered against the ivory marble floor. Aside from the many flickering candles and white stone pillars, there seemed to be nothing—and no one—occupying the room.
“What are we supposed to do now?” Kale whispered.
“Patience, Kale,” Thomas quietly replied. “I can sense a magical presence nearby. We are not alone.”
Neelan took a few steps in front of them. “I must call for the elders of the council. Please remain silent.” She took a deep breath, nervously fidgeting her fingers before speaking, “Ei makeel ulo te laylune queysel o’ Tyrione.”
A heavy silence weighed upon them as they awaited a response.
“We came all the way to the elven kingdom to stand alone within this room?”
“That is enough, Kale!” Neelan snapped.
Before Thomas could comment on Kale’s behavior, the ceiling began to shift and they heard the sound of grinding stone. They glanced up to see circular carvings rotating in a clockwise direction high above their heads. Kale wanted to ask Neelan what was happening, but knew well enough by this point to bite his tongue. This was a mission for Judith—for Ravondore—for the dragons fallen to Jedah’s blade; it was not worth risking their approval to move forward.
Four stone circles descended on heavy metal chains and soon revealed a golden throne upon each. Seated atop each red velvet-lined seat was an elderly elven male. Each of the men appeared equally wrinkled with thin, white hair that traced around their long ears, falling in length to the legs of their thrones. Their silver robes draped against their bodies as though made of a liquid substance.
“Humans, eunae raylea neishen helst?” One of the elders spoke, bringing a hand to his chin. His circular oasis gently swayed above Kale and his companions. The elder narrowed his eyes, awaiting a response.
“Reynessa shi yoria elukatayne reuk oleay shimoy re English moewa,” Neelan replied, obviously intimidated by the elven men.
The same elder who had spoken interlocked his fingers beneath his pointed chin. “I should have known. What a foolish gesture to assume they spoke our tongue.” His cold eyes locked onto the three men. “Tell me,
humans,
why have you come to our kingdom?”
“We request permission to visit a resident of the city,” Neelan spoke before the others could begin responding.
“Silence, young elf! Do not speak out of turn—traitor to the temple of Enya. You should be grateful to have entry here.” The elder returned his focus to Kale, Thomas, and Illadar. The other three council members adjusted their focus onto them as well, which intensified the already uncomfortable situation. “With whom do you desire to speak and for what business?”
Kale and his friends anxiously looked toward Neelan; they did not want to reveal any inappropriate information that could possibly jeopardize their mission. Neelan returned the stare as she widened her eyes and gestured with body language to answer the question. She knew any disobedience on her part would result in removal from the kingdom, and in turn, her human companions would be forced out as well.
“You there.” Another member of the council extended a bony finger toward Kale, who in return pointed to himself in question. “You will speak on behalf of your party,” The elf commanded.
“I—well, we, must speak with a citizen of your city. It is of dire importance in order to return the Princess of Mirion to her throne.”
“We do not dabble in petty human affairs boy.” The second elder replied.
“Please, listen to me.” Kale couldn’t give up after coming so far in his journey. “The entire continent of Ravondore depends upon ending General Jedah’s destructive path. Returning the Princess will help ensure his demise is met.”
The elders grew silent as they looked toward one another. It appeared as though they were speaking telepathically.
Finally, a third council member spoke, “Tell us the name of whom you seek.”
“His name is Brig,” Kale quickly responded.
All four elders began whispering to one another in Ceruya.
Kale watched as Neelan nervously listened, biting down upon her bottom lip. Finally the room grew silent once again as the four council members directed their attention to Kale
“Request denied,” the first elder spoke.
“Why?” Kale blurted out in an overwhelming bout of frustration. He had come so far since being transformed and was not prepared to return to Judith and Elanya without finding answers.
“You dare to question our authority—
human
boy?!” The first elder, who appeared to be the head of the council, raised his voice. “Our decision has been made and is final. We do not know why you desire to seek a dark elf—even one within our own kingdom—nor do we desire to know. However, the man you wish to find suffers from insanity and delusion. He treads a fine line within Tyrione and cannot be trusted; therefore, you cannot be trusted to collaborate with such an individual. We have only granted him permission to remain within these walls because of a plea from a respected high priestess—your mother, Neelan.”
Her eyes shifted with surprise. She could not have fathomed her mother to be fond of dark elves. Neelan’s father had always made it quite clear about his disgust for their race. She had always assumed her mother to share the same feelings.
“Neelan, though you are no longer welcome to live within Tyrione, I will grant you and your companions a brief stay under guarded supervision to visit your family.” The elder’s narrow face locked eyes with hers. “This decision is not for your benefit, but your mother’s. You must leave here immediately after.”
“T-thank you,” Neelan replied.
Kale couldn’t figure out if the sad look upon her face was due to the finalization that she was no longer welcome in Tyrione, or that she would now have to face her father—the one person who scarred her emotions for so many years.
“However,” the elder continued, “should we find that you attempt to seek the dark elf named Brig, you shall be exiled from Tyrione, and banished from contact. Go now and make haste, your time here runs short.”
They did not dwell or further question the ruling. The four companions quickly turned to leave, thankful for each step they placed between themselves and the council. The same two guards awaited their exit, still stationed beside the immense doors. As they made their way outside, Kale felt the sunlight wash over his face and was thrilled to smell the fresh air. Though, his time within the tower room was brief, it had felt like an eternity of awkward moments. Never before had he required permission or authority to do something he desired—it irked him to no end.
“That was truly horrible, Neelan. I can now see why you fled from this place. I would too, if I had to deal with those four skeletons.”
“Kale, lower your voice! If any of the citizens hear you speak in such a manner, we’re through here!” Neelan snapped.
“From the way things went back in there, we are already through here.” Kale crossed his arms in frustration.
“Calm yourself, I have a plan.” Neelan spoke softly.
“What sort of plans are you discussing?” The four turned in surprise to see Lorin standing next to Neelan. His suspicious glare locked upon Kale. “I do hope you aren’t going to do anything that may jeopardize Neelan’s wellbeing here within Tyrione.”
“It’s nothing like that. We were planning where our next destination would be after leaving Tyrione.” Neelan quickly thought up a witty response to quench his curiosity. “Why are you here anyway?” She raised an eyebrow.
“I was sent to escort you to your home.”
They sure don’t waste any time maintaining control here,
Kale thought bitterly.
“Perfect.” Neelan began to walk, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. “Let’s get this over with quickly.”
Chapter 19: Neelan’s Secret
T
hroughout their walk, Kale found himself frequently dodging the cold glares from Lorin’s grey eyes. Curiosity at what Neelan planned tugged at his thoughts. He knew that, whatever it may be, it was their final hope for finding the answers they desired.
“Pardon my prying, but how do you two know one another?” Thomas broke the heavy silence.
Nicely done, Thomas,
Kale thought sarcastically with a sigh. He knew that Neelan already had enough on her mind with the upcoming family reunion, and now she would have to endure a stroll down memory lane with the unpleasant male elf.
“Considering most of us have lived within the walls of this city since birth, it’s hardly an interesting story. Most of the citizens know one another,” Neelan quickly replied.
“I’d bet that’s why you’ve been gettin’ so many foul stares since we left the tower. I’m sure a lot of them don’t fancy your arrival after what happened in your past.” Illadar glanced around at their surroundings.
First Thomas, now Illadar? And they say I am the one who cannot bite my tongue
? Kale shook his head.
“Let them stare, I truly could not care less. I am sure it was the words of my father that established all this negativity toward me. His only priority in life is the temple—not the emotions of his family.”
Kale glanced toward Lorin, who had remained silent with a glum look upon his face.
“Neelan,” Lorin finally spoke, “you make our history seem as though it was meaningless. I cannot understand how you speak so carelessly about me. I have known you since you were a baby.”
“That is true—but it’s not as though we were very close to one another.”
Lorin looked as though Neelan had shot an arrow through his heart. “I disagree.” His voice lowered to a whisper, “I was always close—even if you never realized.”
As Kale overheard, for the first time since he met Lorin, he felt sympathy for the elf. Unsure how to react to the situation, Kale attempted a friendly gesture to ease the tension; he gave Lorin a pat upon the back of his armor.
“Do not touch me, you foul and insignificant peon!” Lorin immediately pulled away from Kale’s reach.
“Excuse
me
for trying to be friendly with the likes of you,” he huffed bitterly. “I can see why she doesn’t care to be close to you. I can’t see how
anyone
would want to be.”
“Would you two stop?” Neelan snapped, looking forward. “We are here...” Her voice trailed off into silence.
Kale glanced up, confronted by a wide, white building. The front was unique from all others within the city with three stained glass windows in a row. They seemed to be symbolic in some way, though Kale could not interpret how. In the first panel there was a sun and a moon; in another a variety of plants, and in the last a woman draped in gold with a yellow glow surrounding her body.
Interesting,
Kale thought.
Near the top of the building hung a large golden bell which Neelan explained was used to summon the citizens for worshiping ceremonies to the Goddess Enya.
“Is this your home?” Thomas questioned, in awe at the structural details.
“This is the temple,” Neelan’s voice was grim and her breathing rapid. A flood of horrible memories invaded her mind. She closed her eyes, shaking her head as she regained composure. “My home is around back.” Neelan looked nervously toward Kale, “Will you hold my hand? I cannot do this on my own.”
Lorin grunted his disapproval. “Disgusting,” He whispered loud enough for Kale to hear.
Thomas fought the sudden urge to freeze Lorin’s lips shut. He knew better than to risk their mission for a petty quarrel.
It took Kale a few moments before Neelan’s sudden request registered within his mind. “Sure,” he finally responded.
Neelan slipped her surprisingly soft hand into his then interlocked their fingers together. As they began to walk in the direction of her home, Neelan tightened her grip on Kale’s hand.
Soon he could feel a gentle tremble. He responded with a light squeeze in an attempt to assure her everything would be all right.
“Thank you,” she spoke softly.
“You don’t have all the time in the world. Let’s get moving,” Lorin insisted coldly.
They made their way to the rear where a small extension to the temple could be seen. The front entry path to the home was bordered with beautiful pink flowers that made the surrounding area smell sweet. A narrow brick chimney released a stream of grey smoke and Neelan’s grip tightened to the point of discomfort, causing Kale’s fingers to swell as blood rushed to the tips.
Lorin took a step forward, raising his fist to the green wooden door.
“Wait!” Neelan called to him. “I have to try and do this part myself—I need to face my fears and overcome these never-ending nightmares.”