XXII. A DREAM RESIGNED

Mourning for those who had fallen lasted two weeks. It brought what felt like all of Rhode to watch various processions and pyre lightings, with a culmination of events upon the mouth of the volcano, at the temple of Adroushan. Much like The Order of Dawn, the Colby-Nau had their ancient heroes and saints; Adroushan was one such hero, known as he who tamed the fires within the mountain. He was said to have been a powerful warrior and machinist, which was some sort of blacksmith in the time before the collapse. While Aichlan did not much care for mythologies and the pagan religions of the elves, he politely paid his respects and splashed scented oils into the fire at the statue’s feet with the rest of his companions.

Word had spread quickly regarding the circumstances of their deaths and the possibility of war that loomed upon the darkened horizon. Word was sent to the council, but the Colby-Nau were strict with their bureaucracy and no session would be held until the first of Redsun, as it had been for centuries. Despite the tense and mournful mood, there was at least some relief that they had been placed on the docket. As always, Aichlan was displeased with delay, but unlike previous occasions where such a delay would have caused him a great deal of anxiety and frustration, he was able to use the downtime to relax and recoup from the ordeals of the past five months.

Aichlan and company found time for recreation and exploration while they awaited the council to convene, with the threats of war seeming all too distant. Clarissa destroyed his uniform without his knowledge and replicated it with a few alterations. He now bore the crests of both Kielan and Eth’s house (a withered tree and frond respectively) upon his left shoulder, and the emblem of his rank was salvaged from his old uniform and stitched onto his right shoulder. Clarissa even blessed the garment by tracing the emblem of Dawn with her blood to make it official.

Aichlan had grown increasingly comfortable staying with Ashe as she fell back into her normal routine and he created his own. He spent most days in training with Fiora, Alice and Eth. The two women had grown increasingly close, and often disappeared together for days at a time. He wondered if their shared hardships that gave them a sisterly bond, or if it was something else entirely. Ransom had wandered off shortly after they arrived, and Clarissa spent a great deal of time with Séverin in the farming district of all places. Aichlan was grateful for the respite, the troubles of the war seemed distant and inconsequential, and for the first time he did not feel guilty. He could recover and meet King Laelianus with a clear head, which he would desperately need if going to face that man.

Eth had broken the news that his wife was with child, the threat of war was good for Ashe’s business, and for the first time since he was transferred to that light forsaken fort of Arlien, Aichlan was generally contented with life. The thought of staying in Rhode, of leaving the war west of Eefrit where it belonged and starting a life with Ashe crossed his mind with increasing regularity. He allowed himself to dream without guilt or shame.

* * *

The council hall was built upon a rugged peak; it was a massive three-tiered temple like structure, decorated with massive statues of great elves of yesteryear and a colossal fountain inside and outside. The inner chambers were built like grand amphitheaters, with the hall of Aiden set in the grandest of all. Two levels of seating built into the stone ringed the center dais with twenty thrones set in a circle around a roaring brazier. Each throne was individually sculpted and designed to fit the clan it represented by the one who sat upon it. In the center burned a massive bonfire, which lit the entire arena, leaving the spectators in shadow.

The council convened on the first of Redsun, but it was not until the fifteenth that they decided to address the issue of Aichlan and the approaching threat of war. The elf council functioned much in the same way as the senate of Rhodarcium, though with far fewer members. This was a boon and a curse as Aichlan discovered in watching their bickering for the past two weeks.

The usher led Aichlan to the second row, beside two aides who hastily jotted down notes and spoke in hushed tones. Like the majority of the elves he had seen, the men went shirtless or with open vests, the women of the council chambers adopted a more modest dress however, opting for flowing peplos’ or colorful saris. All were heavily tattooed or wore gratuitous amounts of jewelry.

A woman with skin like milk chocolate approached and looked Aichlan over. She was tall for a woman, statuesque in her perfection, Aichlan had made great efforts not to stare. Her hair, colored like the void between stars, fell nearly to her ankles. Her chiton was the color of fresh cream and embroidered in geometric patterns of black and gold, draped over a distinct hourglass figure. Her golden-brown eyes were sharp, though thoroughly disinterested, and held an orange spark, like embers in a campfire. The sound of tinkling trinkets that followed her like chimes, her arms and ankles burdened with a dozen or more gold bangles upon each limb.

“Are ye Aichlan?” she asked.

Aichlan nodded. “Yes, and you are?”

The woman held out her hand in an obligatory gesture. “Órfhlaith Gold-Flute, I represent district seven of inner Rhode.”

Her accent was very reminiscent of the posh Briartach spoken by Alice, with a ever so slight back country brogue heard from the rest of the elves.

Aichlan stood and took her hand to kiss it. “A pleasure.”

The woman smiled shrewdly. “I’m sure. I shall be representing you and your…petition.”

“Representing me?” Aichlan asked, confused.

“Your request for aid was submitted by Earl Silver-Tree and Master Ore-Frond of Silverhand mines. My jurisdiction.”

“Who?”

Órfhlaith rolled her eyes. “Eth and Kielan. Listen, when the council calls you up, just keep your mouth shut and stand behind those two. I’ll do the talking.”

Aichlan frowned. He did not care for the idea of staying in the background, not when so much was at stake.

“Has Eth or Kielan explained the situation to you already?” Aichlan asked.

“I got the gist of it.” Órfhlaith yawned. “Excuse me.”

“Perhaps it would be best if I explain it to them.” Aichlan persisted. “So they can better understand the severity of the situation.”

Órfhlaith tied her hair up into a high tail. Aichlan got the distinct impression that she had not been listening to a word he said.

“They’ll call ye up with Eth and Kielan, just stick with them.”

“And where are Eth and Kielan?” Aichlan asked.

Órfhlaith shrugged as she began putting on several gold earrings.

“Can I get different representation?” Aichlan sighed.

“Listen mate, if I’m honest,” Órfhlaith pinched her fingers together, holding them up to her eye, “I’m just a wee bit drunk. That bein’ said, I know me job and have been doin’ it longer than ye’ve been alive, longer than yer papi even.”

“You’re drunk?” Aichlan snapped in disbelief.

“I came out of a boozy luncheon with the campaign team not too long ago.” She said dismissively. “Listen, this is just a courtesy, nothing will be decided today. So just sit tight and let me guide you through the motions.”

Before Aichlan could protest further, she had already left and entered the council floor. A gong sounded, signaling that a decision had been reached and the next item could be addressed. Aichlan took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his brow, hoping his representative was as competent as she claimed.

An older man with tanned, leathery skin, a thick grey beard cleared his throat. “Next item upon the docket Déorsa?”

An equally old and silver haired elf in a suede vest shuffled through a pile of papers. “Le’s see ’ere, Eth o’ Silver Hand and Kielan, also o’ Silver Hand mines brings forth evidence that the nation of Rhode has come under attack. They propose war with the aggressor, a one Osric o’ Xanavene.”

Conversation rumbled throughout the chamber and the council members. Aichlan breathed a sigh of relief as Eth and Kielan slunk into the council chambers and took the first open seats at the end of his row. He at least had some faith in the two of them.

“Alright, alright!” The chairman hollered, but the conversation was slow to die down. “I said quiet!”

A tense silence fell over the council chambers.

“Good, now where the devil are they? Eth and Kielan of Silver Hand! We ain’t got all bloomin’ day!”

Eth and Kielan hurriedly ushered Aichlan down to the podium and addressed the council. Órfhlaith took a long drink of water before she made her way towards the center of the stage. Judging by her movements, she was more than just a little drunk.

“Órfhlaith of Clan Gold Flute representing.” She said with disinterest. “The council here by recognizes Eth Silver-Tree and Kielan Ore-Frond of the Silver Hand mines.”

“Now wait just a bloody moment!” A hulking member of the warrior clan covered in aggressice ink stood and aimed an accusing finger at Aichlan. “Who the ’ell is he?”

“Yes, who are ye?” The chairman asked with equal suspicion.

“This is Aichlan, knight o’ The Order.” Kielan responded confidently, much to Aichlan’s relief. “He was at the fort of Arlien when it fell. We met ’im in the Tear whilst passin’ through Elysia.”

“And what’s that have to do wit’ us then?” Asked the farmer’s representative, named Qeb.

“We found him in the river and decided to escort him to Rhode before he traveled north to Duvachellé via port Vergas.” Kielan looked to Aichlan and back to the council with a shrug. “Given his wounded state and current invasion, it seemed logical.”

“And what would one of the miner clans know of logic?” Quipped Déorsa.

“Toss off.” Órfhlaith snapped.

“Order!” The chairman boomed in response. “Kielan, continue. Órfhlaith, this is a council damnit! Act like a professional!”

Aichlan groaned. He was in for a long afternoon.

“We were attacked in Sorn by bandits, by Osric’s forces in the Wraith Wood and as far inland as the Sulfur Plains. Time and again he has proved his valiancy and combat prowess. I vouch for this man, and firmly believe we are forged of the same fire.”

“Aye, as do I.” Eth added with his usual gruff sincerity.

“Fine, fine. Does the council recognize this bloke?” Órfhlaith asked without exuberance.

A heated debate broke out between the council members.

“I will have some semblance of order!” Screamed the chairman.

The conversations died down to hushed whispers and sidebar conversations.

“We put the matter to a vote then. Starting with house majority of the miner clan. Órfhlaith?”

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“Sure.” She did not attempt to mask her exasperation at having her side conversation interrupted.

“Barzilai?”

A colossal elf with jovial look about him toked on a long pipe. Scars and tattoos covered his tanned skin; he nodded noncommittally as he continued to smoke.

“Fairuz?”

“Aye!” A young female miner chirruped, she seemed to be competing with Órfhlaith for opulence in her turquoise gown and sapphires.

“Trahearn?”

“Yea.” Replied the young miner who carried on a conversation with Órfhlaith.

“Cole?”

“Lost me brother to that Osric bastard” He spat at his feet in disgust. “A resolute Aye.”

“Miner clan is unanimous.” The clerk Déorsa declared.

“Le’s ’urry it up, then shall we? Aelfhere of the warrior clan?”

A young warrior looked to his fellow clansmen before answering. “Aye.”

“Lothaire?”

Lothaire shifted in his seat, he had an arrogant look about him and a cold glint in his eyes, offset by a complacent grin upon his face as he pondered Aichlan.

“I am reluctant tae take these men’s word so easily regarding this, Aichlan. But the threat upon us is obvious, and if it will expedite oor response, and in memory o’ oor fallen; I give my blessings. Aye.”

“Excellent, hold off on the speeches though next time, ya drama queen. Donough!”

A brawny, dark skinned elf etched in aggressive body ink rested his head upon his massive fist. His head was shaved save for a mohawk of stubby dreads, pulled back with tips of red and orange. He idly pulled at his braided goatee whilst regarding Aichlan with overt hostility.

“Nay.” He snarled and glared at Aichlan.

“Enyo?”

She was the first blonde elf Aichlan had seen in Rhode, her skin was a soft brown like coffee with too much milk, Aichlan could not tell if she were of mixed heritage or simply well-tanned. Even more perplexing, her eyes were mixed, one blue the other green, and a massive scar ran from her shoulder past her hip. It looked as if someone had tried to cleave her in two at some point in her career.

“I’m with Donough; we don’ know who this li’ wanka is nor ’ow he got ’ere. Why the hell was he the only survivor? Sounds like cowardice may o’ played its part. Resounding Nay.” Her words of venom were spoken with a honey sweet voice.

“Fuck you.” Aichlan murmured under his breath.

“Warrior’s guild is split.” Called out Déorsa.

“This is taking entirely too long. Mind you, we do have other items upon the docket. Uh, Conlaodh of the smithing guild? What say you?”

“Aye.”

“Ud?”

“Nay.”

“Hratchouhi?”

The woman regarded Aichlan with interest, she had long curly flame red hair and a pale complexion compared to the others. Her eyes were an unusual shade of orange-ish brown, bright and full of vigor. While Aichlan could not be certain, he was sure he had heard her name before.

“Oi, ye know Ashe yeah?”

“Uh, yes, we traveled together.” Aichlan was a bit taken aback to have a question directed at him.

“Did a bit more than travelin’ I ’ere.” She said with a grin. “Me an Ashe were schoolmates us. I trust her judgment. Aye.”

“Smithing guild, two to one majority in favor of.”

“Déorsa? Oh, never mind, I’ll come back to you. Qeb, of farmer’s union.”

“Nay.” He said with unbridled malice.

“Tlalli?”

A young farmwoman twirled her hair absently as she chewed on a piece of straw. “Niver been one tae go against the grain o’ thangs, yeah? If they wanna bloody war I say they take it elsewhere, who’s tae say this ‘ere bloke didnae bring it wit’ him when he decided tae show up? I’ma have tae stay wit’ tha majoritay an’ go nay on this un’.”

“What the devil did she say?” Asked the chairman, as no one was able to decipher her thick accent.

“I heard nay.” Said Déorsa.

“Aye, tis’ nay.” She drew herself up and crossed her arms across her chest as she gnawed furiously on a piece of straw. “What’re ya’ll? Bloo’y deaf?”

“Right then, moving on.”

“Déorsa, nay. Farmers union unanimous.” Déorsa declared with a huff as he shuffled through the stack of papers before him.

“Were currently cutting into lunch mind you.” The chairman said with a sigh. “What say the merchant union?”

A man and woman in affluent dress of western Runandia debated with one another in hushed tones. Aichlan barely contained his laughter as the woman was wearing rather expensive lingerie as if it were formal wear.

“Aye.” The man finally said.

“Labor union? Daedalus?”

“Nay, that goes for Atich as well.”

“Masonry guild is in concurrence with the merchant and smithing unions.”

“Smashing! As for myself, aye.” The chairman clapped his hands together once and began to rise. “The motion passes. The council hereby recognizes this Aichlan fellow. We now take a three-hour recess for lunch. That is all.”

“Hold on a bloody second! All that jus’ to acknowledge my presence?” Aichlan thundered to mixed reactions of apathy and confusion.

“There is an army more massive than this world may have ever known marching upon your borders as we whittle the hours away, and you wish to squander three hours on lunch? I care not what your opinion of me is, I have proven myself time and again to those who matter, but do not let your shallow insecurities and prejudice interfere with your judgment when it comes to the wellbeing of your citizenry!”

Aichlan paused to catch his breath and gauge the reaction to his outburst. The dulled and uninterested looks he was met with lit fervor within him.

“This man has opened the Black Gate and wields the forces of The Dusk; he has cut a path through Runandia and Briternica! He has slaughtered your brethren! You cannot sit idly by pretendin’ everythin’s alright over tea and bloody crumpets!”

“What the ’ell is crumpets?” Órfhlaith whispered to Eth who shrugged in response.

“Well said Aichlan.” Lothaire managed to lace his praise with condescension. “Regardless of the why, this Osric has declared war upon us when he infiltrated our borders and killed our people. We must show him the folly of his actions. Though my fellow warriors do hold prejudice towards the miner guild and suspicion for this Aichlan fellow, we are all in concurrence that something must be done about this menace.”

“Despite my loathing for this smug lil’ upstart, the miners are equally disposed to war, as it was our own sons and daughters that fell.” Barzilai pounded his fist upon his armrest for emphasis. “Our honor is at stake.”

“This is absurd! It is obvious that this Aichlan is to blame! None of this rubbish would have happened had he not been brought into Rhode!” Ud’s face had turned as bright as a ripe tomato in his fervor.

“That’s preposterous!” Aichlan shouted. “He had his sights set on the continent as a whole! My involvement is inconsequential! I have yet to even lay eyes upon the man!”

“He’s right.” The council’s attention shifted to Séverin as he casually approached the podium.

“And who are ye?” Qeb vehemently screamed as argument erupted amongst the council members again.

“Order! Order I say!” The chairman screamed with protruding veins as he pounded his jewel-laden fist on his armrest.

“That means shut it!” He bellowed and the conversations slowly began to quiet down.

“Now, who is this?” He directed the question at Kielan, but Séverin responded.

“My name is Séverin. I have irrefutable evidence that Osric plans an attack on Rhode. You are in possession of something that he desperately desires. He doesn’t suspect that we are aware of this, giving an untold advantage.”

More debate and arguments erupted before he could even finish.

“I believe that the audacity of this claim gives their story some semblance of validity.” Lothaire called out over the clamor with a hint of whimsy.

“But who’s to say they aren’t playing at some sort of subterfuge?” Donough bellowed as he stood.

“Aye! I say we lock this lot up and err on the side o’ caution. Send a battalion to Eefrit and raise an army here in Rhode!” Enyo spoke passionately, rallying even the dissenters with talk of imprisonment. “I support Donough’s tribe fully and commit my own forces to his own. As for the humans, we can interrogate them at length and if it is them Osric is after, then we get rid o’ them.”

“Such coward’s talk Enyo!” Donough scolded. “Though I share the sentiment.”

“You’re all a bunch of bleedin’ cowards!” Eth exploded in rage. “These men an’ women ’ave fought and bled with us! For us! This man’s my brother as far as I’m bloody concerned! He is one of us and I’ll fight Abigor ’imself for this lot, with or without the approval of this blasted council!”

Aichlan was shocked by Eth’s emotional outburst. “Thanks mate.”

Eth only grunted in response.

“There are two members of their party who have been admitted into house Eth, this man is a member of both Eth and Kielan’s houses, therefore members of Barzilai and my own tribes.” Órfhlaith added calmly. “The miner’s guild has no recourse but to accept their claims as fact and defend their freedom and honor in the matter.” She spoke with neither passion nor conviction, but her meaning was clear.

The chairman hung his head and covered his face with an exasperated sigh.

“Unbelievable! The miner clan is merely showing off their power, or at least what they perceive as power. If it were to involve any but their own, they’d be seated firmly on the other side of the fence!” Déorsa’s objection was met with nods of approval from his fellow dissenters.

“The warrior guild does not ally itself with these men!” Donough bellowed, not willing to be associated with miners or humans. “But that does not lessen the threat we face!”

“Ge’ off it Donough! Nae one doubts yer bloody intentions, yoo an’ tha rest o’ yer bloodthirsty lot.” Tlalli scoffed, beginning the arguments anew.

A commotion at the rear of the auditorium caught everyone’s attention as Xanavene soldiers and several warriors led members of The Order in shackles.

“What is the meaning of this?” The chairman yelled hoarsely as he rose.

“Unhand me you ass eared bastards!” A woman cried out.

She had long russet colored hair, dressed in the patchwork jerkin of a rural hunter, a bow slung over her shoulder. Aichlan stepped away from the podium to get a better look, eager to be done with the elves. She certainly was not one of his. The soldiers threw her to the ground as they dragged in a woman with wild lavender colored hair. She was on the edge of consciousness and looked as if she had crossed the realm of dusk and back.

“My apologies councilman, but we discovered them upon their exit from the sulfur plains.”

“Maleah?” Séverin called as he pushed his way towards the woman. “Let her go! I know this woman! She is no enemy!” He screamed as he fought with her captors.

“Let her go.” The chairman said with a wave of the hand and a look of curiosity upon his face.

Séverin helped Maleah to her feet; she was delirious and dehydrated. “Get theses blasted shackles off of her!”

“Oi! You Séverin?” The hunter called out.

“Yes, who are you? Why is my sister here?”

“My name is Taryn, met yer sister Maleah up in the Wraith Wood, she helped me out a tight spot she did; now I ask you ta do the same.”

Kielan sprang into action as everyone was still dumbfounded by the strange turn of events. Aichlan scanned the faces in the crowd of ragtag clergy. He recognized none of them, which was not too much of a surprise. What was a surprise was seeing members of The Order traveling with Xanavene forces.

“Get her some water!” Séverin called as he led his sister to a seat.

“Oi, Oi! What ’bout me then? Oi! Séverin! Bloody’ ell. Get off me!” Taryn cried in frustration as the elves jostled her away from Séverin.

“Aichlan! Aichlan my Lord! Over here!” A woman cried out in Elysian.

Aichlan scanned the crowd to see Emarosa waving frantically at him; she was one of priestess Renata’s personal attendants. Despite the hardship she undoubtedly suffered on her journey, she still wore the fragments of her affluent dress over a still rather plump figure, her dark brown hair tangled about her childlike face.

“Emma!” Aichlan leapt from the podium and ran to embrace her.

“Lord Aichlan! Thank Dawn you are safe! The Priestess worried for you so!”

“Renata? Where is she? Is she safe?”

Emma looked down in shame, tears spilling from her hazel eyes. “She lives my Lord, though I know not for how much longer. That fiend Osric keeps her chained and imprisoned.”

Aichlan raised her chin and wiped her tear away. “It is not your fault Emma.”

“His sister, Maleah took care of her Aichlan, she is a good woman! But when she fled, she could not take the Priestess and… and I did not stay behind when asked. I… I…” Emarosa broke down and sobbed hysterically. “I was so scared Aichlan! May the light show mercy for my cowardice!”

“Emarosa, you cannot be blamed for being afraid. But please, what do you mean when you say ‘fled?’”

“There is a rift in their camp my Lord. Many desert every day, Maleah left over a month ago when we reached the port of Blithe upon Woe. She secured our release. My lord,” Emarosa stated pleadingly. “Xanavene is not our enemy! It is that monster Osric!”

“They are one in the same as far as I am concerned.” Aichlan snarled. “Eth, can we treat the injured at your home?”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll have Clarissa see to it. What ’bout the rest o’ them?” He said in reference to Maleah and the rest of the soldiers.

Aichlan stared at the woman Séverin held in his arms as he slowly poured water past her cracked lips. She was stunningly attractive despite the days of marsh grime and battle dirt she had accumulated. The family resemblance was obvious, as was the love that Séverin had for his sister. It was hard to see this woman in the same way he viewed the rest of the Xanavien horde. Would Osric have the same effect? If they were in fact siblings, he could not differ so much that he fit into Aichlan’s monstrous and craven imaginings.

“Take Séverin and Maleah as well. Secure the rest til we can get some answers.” Aichlan ordered.

“And just who do you think you are?” Qeb ranted as he stormed down from the dais.

“You mean to imprison them? If my sister has led them, they are not loyal to Osric!”

“And how am I to know that?” Aichlan calmly stated.

“These men are known to me! They enlisted long before Osric came into the scene! These men are loyal to Xanavene, not Osric!”

“These men are the enemy Séverin! Until proven otherwise, I shall treat them as such!” Aichlan responded with equal intensity.

Séverin paused to take a breath and collect himself. “Look, it is obvious they no longer ally themselves with Osric, they are wounded just as the rest!”

“Forgive me, but I am unwilling to put Rhode at risk should they have ulterior motives. I will see to it personally that they receive healing and attention. I give my word as a knight. Pray that suffices.”

“Then they should be put under the jurisdiction of the warrior clan, we are the only ones with that can accommodate them--.”

“So you can torture them?” Aichlan interrupted. “I request they be placed under the miner guilds jurisdiction.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have the authority, though you certainly possess the audacity.” Lothaire said officiously.

“Granted.” The chairman declared. “Council is adjourned; we reconvene on the morrow.”

He made a hasty exit with his attendant and Déorsa amidst the outcry and ensuing arguments. Eth ushered Séverin, Maleah and the remnants of The Order to his residence whilst Órfhlaith issued orders.

“Hold them at Adroushan. Get ‘em water, food, whatever, I don’t care. Eth, ye fuckin’ owe me.” She flipped her long hair and left with a flurry of silk and jingling jewelry.

“Thanks.” He responded without attitude.

Órfhlaith paused, giving Eth a surprised double take; it seemed Clarissa was having a positive effect upon him.

“Bloody witch.” He muttered after she left.

Perhaps she was not having an entirely positive effect upon him, merely taught him the art of deceit.

“Do you need help with her?”

Séverin lifted his sister, cradling her into his arms and carried her after Eth without a word. Aichlan let him go, now was not the time for confrontation. He left to speak with Emarosa; he needed to hear more of Osric and his prisoner.