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Lyn stood on the waves, gently bobbing up and down as the waters rose and fell. The boat that had approached her was a frenzy of activity. The Ari sailors were running back and forth, shouting orders and commands in Arinol. She lowered Cataclysm and walked towards the boat’s gunwale of the Viking-esque longship. “Well?” she asked in their race’s language, letting her normal tone come through instead of forcing the intimidating, draconic voice.
A sailor looked at her and went slack jawed, “You’re a woman?”
“So was Raevan,” Lyn replied. She pulled herself onto the ship and released the spell she had been focusing on to walk on water. “Take us ashore. I want to speak to your leaders.”
The same stern-sounding woman she had heard from across the waves walked up. A tall woman, easily a head taller than Lyn’s more petite form. She had long, blonde hair that was tied back in a braid, and her green eyes were filled with wisdom of years. Her skin was heavily tanned, and she had a large scar across her cheek down to her collarbone that looked like a serrated bite of an ocean predator. “You’re the Destroyer? Hmph. Prove it.”
“Was the lava elementalism not enough for you?” Lyn asked as she squared up to the woman.
“For all we know that was an illusion.” The woman eyed Lyn and looked down at her with suspicion. “The only reason we did not attack is that you are one of the Duskari.”
Lyn held her hand out over the ocean. "Togo enni arad / en-anor / i posto ai min / corn da nin alad." The mana in her core surged up her torso and down her arm. A cone of lava blasted out from her palm and shot across the ocean, sizzling and bubbling as a huge cloud of steam was released. All of the Ari sailors around backed away from the sudden surge of heat. Lyn stopped the stream of lava and looked back at the woman, who had a look of fear upon her face. “Satisfied that it is not an illusion?”
She nodded, “Forgive me…You said you’re called ‘Lady Rivers’?”
“That’s right,” Lyn stated as she turned to inspect the interior of the vessel. “I use the title to throw off my foes.” She observed that this group was a military patrol of some type – there were shields, crossbows, spears, pikes, and scimitars in neat, oil-tarp covered racks. “Expecting company?”
“Not you,” the woman replied. She raised her voice and turned to the crew, “Get us ashore! Double time!” The sailors hopped to unquestioningly, but glanced back at Lyn several times as they began to row the vessel to the shore. “Forgive my impudence, Destroyer.”
Lyn waved her hand dismissively, “Don’t mention it. Your name?”
The woman tilted her head down slightly, “I am Naila, of the Conclave of the Isle.”
“Position?”
“I am one of several patrol leaders.”
“You said you weren’t expecting me. Who were you expecting?”
Naila looked over to the South-East and pointed out into the distance, “A group of humans from Valagonia have spread to the Eastern Archipelago. They have established themselves over the past few years, and we patrol the boundaries to prevent further expansion.”
Lyn nodded, “And your Conclave avoided the purges that occurred in Valagonia – formerly Shereld?”
“We did, thank Aelor,” Naila muttered. “Our kin traveled to us. Several Conclaves that resettled here on the Arin Isle. A group made it to Khrelardia, and lives near the docks on Kor’s Hold.”
Lyn could tell something else was lingering under the surface. The woman was not an open book but was not difficult to read. “Who did you lose?”
Naila frowned, “That is none of your business.”
“Very well,” Lyn replied as she walked the length of the ship to the rear of the vessel. “Hang on!” she shouted. The sailors looked at each other before gripping their oars tightly. Lyn raised her hand and pointed it behind the ship, as she willed her boots to recede so her draconic clawed feet could grip the deck. "Echado rauth en-gwaew / i ago ho barad / na i tol." A mighty gust of wind exploded from her hand, and the ship lurched towards the shore.
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“Your Highness!” the messenger yelled as he ran up to the foot of Cecily’s dais.
She looked down at the man. He was breathing heavily – meaning he had run from the stables up to the palace. Which meant this was urgent. “Stand and speak,” she stated.
The messenger stood up and bowed, “Yes, your grace. I have news from Rist. Your Highness…they are aligning themselves with Komorra, and have declared an independence faction.”
Cecily drummed her fingers on the armrest. Not a full on war of independence, yet, she thought. But creating a faction and letting their intent be known. They had to have backing. Being the two closest duchies to the Azure Divide, she could only reason that they were acting so brash because James had courted them to his side. But…since they were declaring of their own volition, and she had no word of Khrelardia’s involvement, he hadn’t broken their diplomatic agreement to remain on their sides of the vast river.
Another messenger came sprinting in and bowed at the throne as well. “Your Highness! News from Lord Smith!”
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Cecily leaned forward, “Speak.”
“Yes, your grace.” He unfurled a scroll from his belt pouch. “He reports that the Duke of Biskon was slain, the heir has been put upon the throne of the duchy and has sworn allegiance to the throne. Your edicts are being enacted.” He looked up from the parchment, “The Berserker Hero is on the way back, and he left the force you had sent him with to ensure the new Duke keeps his word.”
Cecily nodded, Some good news. She waved her hand dismissively, and both messengers bowed before making a hasty exit. “Summon my council,” she told the Seneschal standing nearby. The man bowed and hustled away.
“Your Highness,” the familiar voice of her spymaster spoke softly from behind her throne. The thin, lanky woman came up to her armrest. “I have confirmed that Rist and Komorra are acting on their own.”
“When did you receive this news? And when were you planning on telling me about it?”
The woman bowed her head slightly, “I received the news yesterday. I was going to tell you once my agents were in place.”
Cecily nodded, “Then we will make no moves against Khrelardia for the time being. Use this truce to our advantage.” She stood up and walked to the council chamber, followed by the tall woman. “We have the appropriate vessel for VEROG?”
“Yes, your highness. We have already put the vessel into stasis. All that remains is the spell.”
“Indeed.” She sat at the sumptuous chair placed at the head of the table, and the lanky woman sat at her left side. “Then we have no choice but to fund more expeditions to the Ruins of Elent.” She leaned back and sighed as she rubbed her temple, “The Mage hero is a lost effort. If we leave her alone, she will not trouble us.”
The rest of her council arrived in a trickle of people until all twelve councilors were present. Cecily stood up and projected her voice, ensuring all felt the authority of her ruler core in her words. “Rist and Komorra have declared a faction of duchies to gain independence. We will leave them alone, for now.” She looked to her Marshal, “The Berserker Hero will take a detachment to Skrell and get that duchy in line. The same goes for Logor. I want you to decide, along with the rest of the council, which duchy will be made an example of. Rist or Komorra. I expect your decision by tomorrow.”
The Marshal bowed, and Cecily sat down once more. “Now, onto affairs of the state…”
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Lyn sat on a large reed mat on the beach. An enormous feast was being laid out before her on a low table, and she was sat across from a group of ten elder Ari. “Thank you for seeing me,” she stated with a slight bow of her head. “And for the food.”
The oldest of the Ari tilted his head slightly as well, “It is the least we can do for the inheritor of Raevan’s power and mantle.”
Lyn smirked, “I assume you heard the proclamation I made a few weeks ago?” The various elders nodded, and she continued. “And therefore, you know my intents for Ghomar. To bring it all under my control.”
“A lofty goal,” one of the elders replied. “And you come here to conquer us?”
“No,” Lyn replied quickly. “I’m not here to subjugate you. I am here to offer the Ari a place within my empire.”
One of the male elders at the far end of the row – denoting his young age compared to the rest – let out a guffaw. “Heh. Please. What could you provide us with? We have everything we need here. Life is perfect.”
The other elders stared at him with shock. Lyn looked into his eyes and let her voice drop to the draconic tone. “You don’t have protection,” she stated bluntly. “Kingdoms are going to war, and eventually they will expand. How long will you be safe on these islands? A few hundred more years?” She shook her head. “Eventually, you will be threatened by those seeking to expand. You are already experiencing this with Valagonian settlers in the nearby Archipelago.” Lyn gestured to the ocean behind her, “This is impossible to defend in the long term. The island has no natural defenses, no barrier reefs…it is paradise, yes. But paradise is not suitable for war.”
The eldest elder nodded his head in agreement, “What you say is true, we do not have the means to defend this whole isle. However, we can always move to other lands.”
“Is that what you want? To be uprooted over and over again, having to rebuild? Instead, you can join me and my empire. I can fortify the whole of The Rill to provide a well-defended, secure passage to the Valley of the Volcano. With my spellcraft, I can create whatever terrain you desire. Your people will always have sanctuary to retreat to. The Valley of the Volcano can be your well-defended home.”
One of the Ari who came from Valagonia as the purges had begun stood up. “This promise of protection sounds too good to be true. Forgive my impudence, but I wish to see this power you speak of.”
Lyn nodded, “No offense taken.” She stood up and walked to the ocean. The warm waters lapped against her shins, and she took a deep breath before incanting a complicated spell. "En ethiel an le / aegis a aear / an echado arad en-aew / postad min lestad / sui pan an ionnin i thalion / a anno le min / an na nafin, a heria i raith / bo nin iest a ir / an echado anír anglenad / en-ífant a thalion."
The ocean rose in front of her, shooting skyward until a five-hundred-foot tall tidal wave stood, suspended, above the beach and blotting out the sun. It slowed and stilled until the whole expanse was nothing but a smooth, glassy surface. As per the spell’s verses, she thought of an image. An eagle, flying over the mountains and looking down from above. The water shifted, darkened in places, and grew lighter in others, as it reflected the scene she envisioned.
“Aelor above,” the Ari who had questioned her power whispered just loud enough to be heard.
Lyn released the spell, and the water gently splashed into place as the tide resumed its work. She turned and sat down once more, grabbing some of the fresh coconut and scooping it out with her clawed finger. “Do you doubt my power?”
All the Ari shook their heads vehemently. The eldest stood up and bowed deeply at the waist. “My sincerest apologies, Lady Rivers.” He sat down, and after Lyn had taken a bite of the fruity interior of the food, he, too, took a fruit from the large ensemble of food.
That was a huge indicator to Lyn that she had made the impact she desired. Ari culture dictated that one only ate with those they identified to be innocuous. The other elders also began to slowly eat from the feast, and several minutes passed in silence as they filled their stomachs. Lyn was ravenous, and she hadn’t had tropical fruit in years. After eating to near-bursting, she leaned back on her arms and glanced sideways.
There were other Ari present, watching the meeting between Destroyer and elders. Tradition in Ari culture dictated that there would be silence during the meal, and only once every person had finished eating would conversation resume. Thank God I paid attention to Cecily’s etiquette lessons. The bitch might not have liked the other races, but she had an intrinsic understanding of customs and cultures, and she made sure the rest of the heroes understood them so she wouldn’t be embarrassed when interacting politically with other races.
“Lady Rivers,” the eldest Ari stated when the meal had concluded. “We will need time to discuss your proposition. Will you stay the night?”
Lyn nodded and stood up, “I will stay. But I need an answer in the morning.”