Hadespera

The 2nd of Skirophorion

The Year 4631 in the Era of Mortals

“Archousa! Archousa! Let me through, curse you!”

One of the guards—a stout, human man with hair and beard splotched with blonde and red—pushed his way through a small group of farmers discussing the responsibilities for each plot of land reserved for farming. The guard stumbled as he passed and was caught by Lyssa, who was overseeing the discussion. With one hand, she steadied the guard and pushed him back a couple steps. He threw up a hasty salute.

“Apologies, Archousa,” he gasped, out of breath. “Elves approaching from the west. A lot of them.”

Lyssa’s heart tapped a sudden beat against her ribcage.

“Alert Gigator. Have him meet me by the western wall. Follow his orders.”

The guard raced off toward the training ground where Gigator could usually be found running spear drills. The farmers looked at her with wide eyes, the air about them thick with fear.

“Peace, friends. Gather the elderly and the children and keep them in the insulae. All others are to don weapons and armor and make yourselves available to the guards. This does not have to be a fight, but we will be prepared. Have courage. Move!”

The farmers jumped at her command and hurried to obey. Elpida stepped around the corner into Lyssa’s line of sight.

“What’s the plan?”

“We meet them head on. Negotiations will occur outside the city walls. Try to avoid violence at all costs. Even with our walls, their fighters are stronger than ours.”

Elpida nodded and fell into step beside Lyssa. Together, they ran for the west wall. The palisade had been finished late the previous evening, thankfully, and it had been the last structure necessary for her quest. Myriatos was now effectively a Level Two Village. Unfortunately, this didn’t come with any new village spells, but it did increase the Village Mana Pool from three thousand to four thousand. It would allow an extra casting of the village attack spell Meteor, if things came to that. She sincerely hoped they wouldn’t.

As they approached the palisade, Lyssa used Solar Sprint to gain altitude, leaping far above the bustle beneath. At forty meters, she stopped, balanced on a thin block of solid light as she surveyed the approaching elves. Three dozen ran toward them, led by one riding a large stag. Lyssa maneuvered to the ground, heart still racing as Gigator and Theodorous arrived.

“How bad is it?” Gigator asked, seeing Lyssa’s face.

“My father has come.”

“What are your orders?”

Lyssa took a moment to collect herself.

“Gigator, you have control of our guards. Organize a defensive posture. Elpida, gather your team and have them group up here. Theo, take the other mages and augment Gigator’s guards under Abraxios’s command. Vik,” she looked around, “where’s Vik?”

“Haven’t seen him,” Elpida said.

Gigator shrugged and shook his head. Lyssa cursed.

“Fine, never mind him. You have your orders. I leave in five minutes.”

The rest ran to get into position. Lyssa clenched her fists and leaned against the west gate, trying to calm herself. She hadn’t expected her father to show up personally. From what she knew, he hadn’t left Dawnwood in almost two hundred years. That he was here, now, was a bad sign. The last time he’d left, it had been to end a war. Was he preparing to start one?

Lyssa looked down at her leathers, seeing the Dawnwood colors shine beneath months of wear and tear. She couldn’t greet them as she was, an outcast wearing the dredges of her former society. She was no longer a daughter of Dawnwood, she was the archousa of Myriatos. Ensuring Sunblock was active for the small protection it offered, Lyssa removed her armor, revealing a simple, mauve tunic and brown pants. The symbolism would be twofold: she was not beholden to the Dawnwood and she was not afraid of its envoy.

Elpida returned with five women, Despoina among them. She frowned at seeing Lyssa’s lack of protection but Lyssa interrupted her before she could voice her disagreement.

“Weapons ready, but do not attack. Onward.”

With that, she waved at the guards operating the gate and it opened for them. A small bridge had been constructed over the river, a side project of one of the carpenters. It was still in progress and didn’t cover the last two meters, but it was solid enough for them to run over.

Lyssa didn’t stop moving. Instead, she surged ahead, keeping her pace in front of her guards, though not moving so quickly as to leave them behind. After three hundred meters, they came to a stop. The delegation from Dawnwood also stopped, thirty meters from them. They were far enough that they wouldn’t be able to see Myriatos, thanks to the Mirage, but two of the hunters from Fig’s troupe were with them and she had no doubt they would be able to find the village, cloaked or not. This was all assuming, of course, that her father didn’t have his own way of seeing through the spell.

Lord Cypress dismounted from the stag and handed the reins off to an aide. He walked forward, dressed in regal armor from Dawnwood, but without weapons in hand. That was a good sign, a gesture of peace and discussion. If he had approached with bow or sword, it would have been a threat, tantamount to demanding a surrender. Lyssa held a hand up to her own guards, signaling them to wait, as she stepped out to approach her father. When they were only five meters from each other, they stopped. Lyssa wanted to be the first to say something but, standing in front of her father, her throat had closed up and she couldn’t get the words through.

“I greet you on behalf of Dawnwood.” Cypress’s voice was as warm as she remembered.

It was enough to break the silence forming between them. He spoke in elvish, appealing to their shared connection, but it was too early to read his actual intentions. It would be best to keep things distant until then.

“Lord Cypress,” Lyssa replied, also in elvish. “I welcome you to Myriatos. Your personal arrival was unexpected, but welcome. Your armed retinue, however, has caused concern among my citizens.”

Cypress lifted his chin, but whatever emotions he had were locked away.

“I apologize for my unannounced arrival, Archousa,” he said formally. “The report that my scouts gave warranted extra precautions. The Sylv is dangerous and there are matters that require personal attention.”

“It is good that you have come. I would speak to you about one of your people, who we have been keeping by consequence of crimes attempted. Would you indulge me by informing me of the report you received?”

“I would not wish to sway your opinions on the matter. I would, however, appreciate you releasing them into my care, such that I might decide their punishment.”

A simple deflection. He wouldn’t give up information without receiving some first. Very well, it was a small concession to make.

“Figoritolos claimed to be an ambassador of yours, along with the six members of his hunting party. We welcomed him and permitted his search for a vampire. When he failed to find one, he grew boisterous, convinced that we were hiding it. When asked to leave, he attacked my steward in front of multiple witnesses. My intervention prevented his death at the hands of my people and I have kept him locked in a guest room of my hall. Amenities and sustenance have been delivered to him, but he has refused to eat or bathe. Instead, he howls at all hours of the day and night.”

Cypress tilted his head to one side as he considered her words.

“I hear the ring of truth, but I cannot take one testimony alone, even from you, Archousa. You spoke of witnesses. Are any among your retinue?”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Nothing prevented him from taking a single testimony except the state of her ears. This wasn’t about convincing him, but convincing the others with him.

“All of my retinue witnessed the act,” Lyssa said. “I can have any one of them give their account of the events.”

Cypress inclined his head. Lyssa held up two fingers and gave a sharp gesture. Elpida and Despoina walked forward until they stood behind her on either side.

“Elpida, do you speak elvish?” she asked, switching back to the common tongue.

“No, Archousa.”

“Both of you will give an account of the events that led to the wood elf’s imprisonment. Despoina, you will speak first, in elvish. Elpida, you will speak second. Will this satisfy you, Lord Cypress?”

Cypress considered it.

“It would have been simple enough to synchronize a story, but I will at least accept the effort.”

Lyssa nodded toward Despoina, who looked uncertain. Her elvish was rough and clearly unpracticed.

“Lord, your elf was loud and angry. When no longer welcome, he fought our second leader, man named Theodorous. Lady stopped him and locked him.” She grimaced as she finished, a blue flush covering her cheeks.

“Thank you,” Cypress said, brushing past the simple speech as he turned his attention to Elpida.

“Your hunter came claiming to be on business from Dawnwood to Myriatos, looking for a vampire. He said he was sent on a diplomatic mission and asked to search for his quarry. We accepted his group and brought them into our village, under supervision. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he started making threats, especially once he found out who was leading the village. When the steward, Theodorous, asked him to leave, your elf tried to kill him. The Archousa intervened and put him in a room in the village hall.” Elpida spoke quickly, clearly not enjoying the attention.

“Thank you,” Cypress said in common, then continued in elvish. “Three accounts heard and accepted. My hunter has wronged you and for that, I apologize and I ask for him to be returned.”

Cypress bowed, his face dipping toward his feet. Behind him, the Dawnwood elves gasped. Lyssa herself stood rooted to the spot. Of all the things she had expected to come of the meeting, this was not one of them. The gesture not only signified a formal apology, it was a recognition of Myriatos as a city of equal status.

“I will, of course, release your hunter into your care, Lord Cypress,” Lyssa said. “I am glad the situation is able to be resolved without bloodshed.”

“I, too, am glad for it. Might I ask that we resume our talks in a more comfortable location?”

Lyssa’s neck hairs stood on end. It could be an innocuous question, but it could also be intended as leverage to get his fighters inside their wall. If peaceful relations were to be formed, a level of trust would have to be extended, but as it stood, it put her people in a tremendous amount of risk. Thirty-six Dawnwood fighters would easily overwhelm Myriatos.

Concessions and trust.

“We may, but I would ask that your warriors relinquish their weapons to our guards. They will be returned upon your exodus from Myriatos.”

“Your conditions are acceptable.”

Cypress held his hand up high, retrieving a mighty war bow from his inventory. He stepped forward and placed it into Lyssa’s hands. Elpida took the message and signaled the rest of the guards to step up. One by one, the elves came forward and passed their weapons over. There was trust to it, still. It was possible that the elves had hidden additional weapons in their inventories, but Lyssa doubted it. Dawnwood was prideful. Maneuvering an enemy was one thing, lying was another. They would not dishonor themselves through such deceit.

When all were ready, her guards surrounded the group of elves. It was almost comical. Nearly forty elves surrounded by six guards. Still, none objected as Lyssa led the way back to Myriatos. Cypress walked alongside her.

“Is your village far from here?” he asked as they approached the river.

“Closer than you would expect.”

A few moments later, they crossed the boundary of the Mirage and Myriatos flickered into view. Cypress smiled.

“A wonderful trick.”

As they crossed the rudimentary bridge, the gate to the palisade opened for them. Lyssa made a calming gesture toward Gigator, who quickly relaxed the guards.

“My people will see to it that yours are looked after,” Lyssa said in common, turning to face Cypress. “If you would follow me to the village hall, we can discuss further from there.”

“Of course.”

They entered the hall and Lyssa led them toward a sitting area where they could speak without being overheard. At her gesture, the guards to Figoritolos’s room left their post and exited the building. Finally alone, Cypress’s face softened.

“Oh, my daughter.”

Those three words nearly broke her.

“Father.”

Cypress crossed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her. Lyssa became as a child once more, safe and secure with those arms holding her tight. But she was not a child, not anymore. By Dawnwood law, she was no longer even his daughter.

Lyssa pulled away. Cypress let her go and she saw tears in his eyes to match her own.

“You’ve grown,” he said. “But what happened to your eyes?”

Lyssa touched the side of her face subconsciously.

“I found a path to power. A path to keep my people safe.”

“I had hoped they would accept you,” Cypress smiled. “I should have known better than to dream small for you.”

“The people here have been unlike any I’ve met. I’ve learned much in so short a time.”

“Life has a way of speeding up around the mortals. In Dawnwood, it feels almost still, like we are outside the flow of time.”

“And yet, every day away from it brings fresh heartache.” Lyssa gritted her teeth, hating herself for what she had to ask. “Will I ever be allowed to return?”

Cypress’s face fell.

“I don’t know. The Council has made it clear they are not willing to entertain the idea. Perhaps at some point in the future, they will feel differently, but as it stands, no.”

Lyssa felt one of the last strands tying her heart to Dawnwood snap.

“I expected as much. Thank you for saying it.”

Her father nodded and changed the subject. “Where is your human friend, Arche?”

“He has traveled to the city of Ephyra. Ship’s Shape, the mortals call it. Myriatos needed supplies and he had personal interest in some aspects of the city.”

She had no desire to mention that Arche had been blinded. As much as she loved her father, let Dawnwood think that Arche’s power, whatever they knew of it, was still strong. Power wielded by a human wasn’t likely to amount to much in the eyes of the elves, so every small piece helped.

“Good, good. It is wise for a leader to surround themselves with loyal, steadfast allies.”

Any reply Lyssa might have had was interrupted by Figoritolos banging on his door and shouting. Cypress’s expression grew cold as he listened.

“You can’t keep me here! Dawnwood will rain fire down on this miserable village. We will slaughter every man and enslave every child. Your women will flood the river with their tears! Free me and this will all be avoided!”

“Perhaps it is time to release your hunter,” Lyssa said.

“Indeed.” Cypress’s anger was heavy on his face.

He passed ahead of her and undid the latch. The door flew open and Fig jumped back with a yelp.

“L-Lord Cypress! You’re here.”

“You dare.” Her father’s voice was a landslide beneath a storm. “You dare to misrepresent my authority? You dare make threats on behalf of my city? You dare risk dishonor and death upon our people?”

“No, my lord! That is not what happened. I was simply doing the task you set before me. I am, and will always be, your loyal servant.”

“One more lie, Figoritolos, and I will banish you.”

Fig’s mouth closed with an audible snap. His eyes moved past Cypress to Lyssa. Hatred burned bright there, but he dropped his gaze to the floor. Cypress turned to Lyssa.

“I extend a formal apology on behalf of Dawnwood for the actions of Figoritolos. I hope it does not darken the prospects of peace between your people and mine, Archousa.”

“Peace would be most amenable, Lord Cypress. I invite you and your company to stay a few days as our guests. We can discuss things further. Figoritolos, however, is not permitted to stay in Myriatos.”

“That is most reasonable. He will be gone at once. After he apologizes.”

Fig’s eyes shot up.

“To an exile?”

“At once.”

Fig’s mouth opened and closed several times. When he turned to Lyssa, his eyes refused to rise above her knees.

“I was wrong to misrepresent myself and to threaten your people. I apologize to Myriatos.”

Lyssa had to stifle a snort. Even now, he wasn’t apologizing to her, only to the village. Luckily for him, that was enough for her. She opened her mouth to reply when the far door burst open and Theodorous ran through, out of breath.

“Archousa!” he shouted, making all of them jump. “Come quick, there’s a ship!”

Lyssa stared at him in confusion.

“A ship?”

Theodorous nodded, his eyes wide and desperate.

“Yes. Headed right for us.”

“The river comes from the mountain. How is there a ship?”

“It’s not on the river, Archousa. It’s sailing through the sky.”