First of Nirakos

Year 1182 of Emancipation

It was hard to believe that she had only ruled Narandir for about two weeks. Belkai had spent two days preparing for her march to Larton, only to be surprised when her emissary to Svaleta, a sell sword by the name of Loranna, had returned with a young priestess from the Temple of the Sun. Belkai's lover, the half-elf Davos, had simply laughed when the two came back far earlier than expected. The priestess, eager to cement the new relationship between Narandir and Svaleta, had performed Belkai and Davos' wedding that very day. So she had married the man who had saved her from her enslavement, and they had enjoyed a night of passion before she set out to war.

Now Belkai returned on the first day of Nirakos, victorious but having spent only a few days total in her own kingdom. The irony was not lost on her, but at least now she could look forward to a new chapter in life. That much was clear when Davos greeted her on the outskirts of the Forest. He had regained the weight that he had lost on her trek from Larton those weeks ago, and his dark skin had regained its powerful look. He took Belkai in his arms and kissed her deeply before pulling away and waving for her to follow him into the Forest.

"It's about time I saw my new wife," he laughed, and Belkai took his hand in her own.

"The business of kingdoms never ends, it turns out," she answered. "What have I missed?"

"The city is gone," he informed her, and she nodded. "The elves are rebuilding what Mishtar destroyed."

The elves of Narandir had once lived in homes shaped from the trees and plants that grew in the Forest. A thousand years earlier a mage fleeing Svaleta's king had enslaved the elves, tearing down their homes and constructing his own city in the central clearing. Though rightfully lord of Narandir until he was killed by Belkai, the elves had resented his rule and eagerly took the opportunity to rebuild what had been lost.

"I promised that I would allow them to return to their homes," Belkai said. "I didn't expect them to be so quick to do it."

Davos squeezed her hand. "I think they honour you for destroying Mishtar. Allowing his family to leave unharmed marked you as different from him. The elves don't want to be pawns in someone else's war. They want to be free, even if they are sworn to serve."

"I never set out to be a queen," Belkai reminded him. Her reasons for coming to Narandir were complex, but had ultimately ended in her destroying Ashelath, that ancient demon that had plagued the Arcane and mortals alike. Perhaps the Arcane will honour that service, she thought, but knew that that would never happen. It was more likely that they would leave her in peace – simply ignore the event and move on.

"And yet here you are," Davos smiled, guessing at her thoughts. "You were never meant to be just a mage sitting in a house wasting away her days."

"So what do I do now?"

"You live." Davos hugged her tight against him as they walked, oblivious to the elves following them. "And you make life whatever you want it to be."

Their eyes locked, and Davos knew what she wanted. But that would have to wait.

"For now, you have your first diplomatic visitor," he said, and was rewarded with a look of confusion. It was nice to not be the one at the disadvantage for once.

"Farhad sent a messenger?"

"If only it were that simple," Davos said with a grin. "The dwarves of Nimura have sent a delegation. These are strange days."

"Do they wish to speak immediately?"

"When they learned of your...expedition...they asked that you take a day to rest." Davos shrugged. "I didn't think that you would disagree."

"It's a Dwarven tradition," Belkai replied. "One who sheds blood, even in war, must not approach royalty for at least a day."

"Royalty? They are just emissaries."

Belkai smiled mischievously. "You have a lot to learn, my love. Join us tomorrow. Learn a little about dwarves. You might like them."

"As you wish, Lord Belkai." For that he earned a punch. "They built you a home, you know."

"Already?"

"It's not a palace, but it's a start."

***

It was a fine start. The elves hadn't made one of their traditional homes for her, instead building something more akin to a log cabin made from Narandir's finest lumber. She glanced at Davos, then stepped inside. Instead of the carpet used in Svaleta, a fine layer of moss covered the floors, and Belkai slipped off her shoes to feel the softness beneath her feet.

"They wanted you to feel at home," Davos said, coming in behind her. "To have something more human, at least for now."

"They want me in a traditional home."

"One day," Davos admitted. "For now, enjoy something familiar."

Belkai smiled. "I grew up among orcs. This isn't so familiar. I'm not used to such comfort."

"So now's your chance," Davos said. "For the first time in your life, take a breath and have a chance of peace."

***

While Belkai's new people had gladly built her a human home, their true delight had been in creating their concept of a palace. A half-hour walk from her home, they had built a far more traditional place for Belkai to perform her royal duties, called a Stalia in their tongue. The first task had been growing the man-size vines that would hold the structures in place. While they hadn't used this knowledge of magic in centuries, it didn't take long for them to put it to good use. They built four structures that hung suspended fifteen feet above the ground, with a central platform between them. Each of these buildings was formed of a firm fungus that almost looked like marble with its blend of dark green, red, and brown textures. One of them would be used by the elves detailed to prepare food for the Lord and her guests. The others were for private conversations and for housing Lithmae's handpicked royal guard, serving under the leadership of Belkai's sell sword, Loranna. The central platform was made of a hard, weblike white membrane and had two thrones constructed of vines growing red and yellow flowers.

As Belkai and Davos walked up the gently sloping ramp that led to the thrones, she couldn't help but think how strange it all seemed to her. What she had told Davos was true – she'd never wanted to rule, much less to command a nation of elves. Nonetheless, this was the result of her journey. She didn't know how to lead a kingdom, but she would be trying to serve the elves as best she could.

"How do you like your throne, my Queen?" Davos smirked as he waited for her to sit. She ran her hands over the vines as she took her place and couldn't help but smile.

"I feel like I was born for this," she replied, surprising herself. Well, it was true, just unexpected. It seemed that the best things in life usually were.

"If I may, Belkai." Her head jerked up and she smiled as Loranna approached. The Svaletan had cut her hair since they'd last seen each other, and her short hair was braided in rows, a style that Belkai hadn't seen before. The same axe hung by her thigh, though, and she clearly hadn't lost any of her strength. "As you requested, I have been appointed as your chief guard. There are six of us, and I have to say, the others are fine soldiers."

"Elves have always been good fighters," Lithmae announced as he made his own way up the ramp. He nodded to Loranna. "Your friend here is skilled, Belkai. It was our honour to give her this place by your side."

"And I am grateful," Belkai smiled. "I hear that we have a visitation."

Lithmae nodded, and raised his voice as he announced,

"My Lord, the delegation from Nimura."

Belkai rose, and Davos followed close behind. They bowed as three dwarves stood before them, then returned to their thrones. The middle dwarf stood just over four foot, with a platted brown beard that ran down to his chest. He took a step forward and gave a short bow.

"Greywall, at your service, Milady." He spoke with a rough voice that suited his appearance as a hard labourer.

"It is an honour, Prince," Belkai replied. She sensed Davos' surprise, and with a smile said, "If I may, Greywall...Davos, for a first meeting such as ours the King of the Five Mountains will always send a prince. It is not to be left to an ambassador."

Greywall nodded. "You are correct, Milady. My companions here will be our ambassadors in future, should you receive them. But yes, my task is to establish our relationship and give a proposal from my King."

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Belkai sensed his hesitation, and asked, "But there is something else you wish to address, isn't there?"

"Pardon me, Milady. I am a young man at ninety-six, still a youth in our people's eyes. I do not mean to be brazen."

"I asked you to speak," Belkai assured him. Greywall nodded gratefully.

"Two weeks ago, we saw a star fall from the sky. The Five Mountains have a prophecy – when the stars fall, our forgotten treasures would be revealed. Nimura's glory would be restored."

"The Song of the Ascendant," Belkai said, much to Greywall's surprise. "I have only ever seen in written. Could you sing it for us?"

"Well...of course, Milady." Greywall quickly recovered from his shock. "It loses something in translation to the Common Tongue, so forgive me."

Belkai nodded, and the dwarf's deep voice seemed to physically fill the air.

Stars will fall from the sky

As lonely children cry;

Death comes for all,

An ever-twisting war;

A last glimmer of light

May break through the night;

In the end none will gloat

At the end of all hope.

"That wasn't all of it," Belkai chastised gently when Greywall went silent. He looked nervous, but slowly nodded.

"It is a dark song," he said. "But it presents the hope of my people."

The Ascendant will rise

With fire in his eyes;

To liberate the land

And bring oneness again;

The liars will be silenced

The fruit of the Ascendant's defiance;

All who stand will fall

The proud will cry forevermore.

"The falling of stars marks the beginning of the fulfilment," Greywall said quietly. "Not quite the end of times, but the changing of an age."

"That was no star that fell in Narandir," Belkai said gently.

"We know that now," Greywall acknowledged. "The Chieftain Lithmae explained Ashelath's coming. You were his subject, from what I understand."

"Not anymore," Davos interjected, and Belkai laid a hand on his arm.

"I killed Ashelath," she said softly. "And I took Narandir's armies north to end his last influence in the war."

"For that we are grateful." Greywall bowed again. "Our Lord of Shadows was always an enemy of Ashelath. With your victory, Nimura will know great bounty.

"But I still wonder, was Ashelath's fall the star that was promised?"

"What is this forgotten treasure?" Davos asked. Greywall looked to Belkai, and she gave her assent.

"Over the millennia, the dwarven clans have amassed fortunes and discovered hidden secrets in the darkest regions of the earth," the dwarf told them. "We were one of the first races on this continent, and my ancestors have endured cataclysms that have passed into legend. But throughout the years some of those secrets have been lost. There are many storehouses of wealth whose location has been lost to the ages. From time to time, we hear rumours and send out scouting parties, but so far all have been in vain.

"But the falling of stars was to be the turning point. We hoped that this would be fulfilled now, but we may have been mistaken."

"Nonetheless, I do desire friendship with the Five Mountains. I am glad that you travelled all this way," Belkai responded. "I have been taught much about this world, and I have yet to begin to tap the knowledge of Narandir. If I learn of your forgotten treasures, I will pass on anything that I learn."

"We would be most grateful." Greywall glanced at the ambassadors before he continued. "We once had a trading relationship with Narandir. Our halls are built with the finest lumber from your lands. That relationship was severed in your predecessor's reign."

"What was given in return?"

Greywall looked to Lithmae and smiled mischievously. "Surely you do not believe that the elves of the forest, with their love of all that grows, have mastered the art of smithing?"

Lithmae frowned but acknowledged Greywall's words with a slow nod. "The dwarves are the masters of moulding steel. All our blades were made in their forges. We could not replicate them here, but we were taught how to maintain them."

"All of your weapons are a millennium old?" Loranna asked in surprise. She looked down at Lithmae's sword with a new level of appreciation.

"The youngest, yes," Greywall said. "I mean no offence, Master Elf, but our techniques have come a long way since our kinds last spoke."

"There is no offence," Lithmae replied. He turned to Belkai. "I am too young to recall the dwarves, Belkai. But my father spoke well of them. If I may be so bold, I would accept their offer."

Belkai studied him for a moment, then took a breath and nodded. "Greywall, thank you for your audience. You may inform your king that I have accepted your offer. Come back in a month, and we will discuss these matters further. Until then, of course, you and your ambassadors are always welcome in our lands."

"I am grateful, Milady." Greywall and the ambassadors bowed deeply, and they slowly made their way down from the platform, openly admiring the elves' construction.

"Belkai; Lord, mage, and diplomat," Davos laughed quietly. Belkai smiled briefly, but beckoned Lithmae to come closer. Her voice was almost a whisper.

"Are there any Dwarven ruins in Narandir?"

The elf glanced around but saw no sign of Greywall or his comrades. "No, nothing like that. There are some ruined buildings in the west, but they seem like ancient Svaletan to me."

"Have you ever investigated them?" Belkai asked, ignoring Davos' questioning glance.

"Not that I know of," Lithmae replied. "You want me to make it happen?"

"If you would," Belkai said. "It may be nothing. But I don't entirely trust Greywall. There is something more to this."

"As you wish."

Seeing an opening, Loranna leant forward and said,

"You have another visitor, Belkai, who came with the dwarves. He claims that he's a friend of yours, but he didn't want to interfere with your meeting."

Belkai frowned. "Who is he?"

"He asked not to be introduced," Loranna said, and shrugged. "He's an orc, for what it's worth."

Belkai broke into a grin, and quickly came to her feet. "His name was Arak?"

Loranna raised an eyebrow. "You don't have many orc friends, do you?"

"None who think they're so subtle, at least," Belkai replied. "Where is he?"

***

Just shy of six foot, Arak Gildarem was short for an Ikari orc. Despite that disadvantage, every inch of his body was built for war. He had made his first kill at six years old, served for two decades as his clan's lead fighter, and after several more decades as a mercenary had become the combat trainer for the Brilhardem, a school of mages based in the Ikari Dominion who were taught to manipulate and control the life energy of everything around them. Most knew them as the 'Silent Order' for their initiation rite, in which they spent their first year without speaking as they learned to sense the living world at a deeper level than most beings could achieve. They learned how to detect emotions, motivations, and even manipulate living objects – all of which they called 'reaching out'. When applied to the art of killing, this could have devastating effects. It was such violence that had first led Davos to Belkai.

She had been one of their star pupils when she had left for Narandir the month before. Her status in the Order would in large part be determined by what Arak found this day. Belkai found him wandering the Forest not far from where she had met with the dwarves and cleared her throat to announce her presence.

"I could smell you a mile away, Brilhardem," Arak growled as he turned around. A smile lit his weathered face, and he embraced his former pupil with a surprisingly warm hug. "It has been too long."

"Only a matter of weeks, Arak," Belkai pointed out as she stepped away.

"The circumstances made a difference, child," Arak replied, and looked around at the scenery. "This was not quite what I expected to result from your quest."

"What did Brimur tell you?"

Arak grunted. "Only what he wished to, and nothing until you'd left. You know what he's like. The truth is, he saw a darkness in you but he still chose you for this quest. He took a gamble on you. It seems like it may have paid off."

"I made a mistake, Arak," Belkai confessed. "I made a pact with Ashelath."

Arak nodded thoughtfully. "Brimur had his suspicions. You read the Illuminarium. We do forbid that for a reason."

"Yes, well, that's in the past now."

"Ashelath is dead, then."

Belkai nodded. "By my own hand."

"I know. This Loranna told me the story. I can sense that your burden has lifted." Arak smiled again. "Your journey must have taken a toll. How are you?"

Belkai had to think about that for a moment, but ultimately she had no choice but to respond truthfully. "I haven't told anyone this. Not even Davos. But I've been having dreams."

Arak frowned. "Visions?"

"No," Belkai said, shaking her head. "More like nightmares. I see the people I've killed. They curse me. They try to drag me to some sort of underworld."

She looked away as she fought back a tear. "I've killed too many, Arak. I realise that sounds foolish to an orc, but I'm tired of killing."

Arak studied her as she talked, and his face softened. "You were never a killer, Belkai. I always knew that. Do you know why I gave you those daggers? The ones which, apparently, you managed to lose?"

"They were destroyed when I killed Ashelath," Belkai told him. "And I thought you gave them because you were impressed by my talent."

"I was impressed by your wisdom," Arak replied. "Enough so that I gave you weapons that would be only secondary to what Brimur taught you. Because I knew that you wouldn't use them to kill the innocent. And you didn't, did you?"

Her silence was enough of an answer, and he continued, "It's called survivor's guilt. It happens to many of your kind. I used to think that there is shame in that, but it's simply how you are put together. It may not make sense to me, but it seems to be a natural human response."

"I don't want to kill anymore, Arak," Belkai said. "I've spilled too much blood."

"Then think of this as a chance for a Child of the Wind to settle in peace," Arak told her. "You have a kingdom now, and from everything I have seen I know that you will do well. Rule with peace and gentleness. Use the wisdom that your father gave to you. Loranna is a good woman, and Davos is a good husband to you. Listen to them, let them guide you. You have earned peace, Belkai. Let yourself receive it."

"Saxon is dead," Belkai told him, unable to hear what he was saying. "I killed him in the Misty Veil."

"He always had good discernment," Arak said, his face tightening. "He suspected something about you, didn't he?"

Belkai nodded sadly. "Every night I would say that I was going to meditate. Ashelath demanded my presence every evening. Saxon knew something was wrong. He confronted me."

"Did he try to kill you?" Arak asked gently.

"No." Belkai wiped away a tear. "No, he only asked very pointed questions. I buried him in a rocky crag."

"He will be mourned," Arak assured her. "If the circumstances were different, you would be expelled from the Order. Forbidden to use our magic under pain of death."

"I will accept the Order's judgement," Belkai said quietly, lowering her head. "I have violated my oath, and will bear the consequences."

"Ashelath was known as the Father of Serpents," Arak reminded her. "He was a master of deception and betrayal. You were firmly in his grasp when you left for Narandir."

He reached out with surprising gentleness and lifted Belkai's head. "The Creator lives by grace, Belkai. I don't believe in this Elkur, but I do believe in the Brilhardem. Your sins will not be held against you."

He grasped her shoulder. "I will return to Brimur. He will want to visit once he knows you are safe."

"Thank you, Arak." Belkai tried to step back, but Arak held her fast. He reached beneath his cloak and retrieved a razor-sharp dagger. It had a black obsidian hilt, which was lined with ancient orcish script carved in gold. The blade appeared to be made of the same material. Belkai had never seen anything like it.

"This has been in my family for generations," he said, and laid it in her hands. "It belongs to clan leaders. Whatever the elves call you, that is what you are. Just don't go stabbing any gods with it."

Belkai laughed through her tears. "I shall try not to, Arak."

"Go in peace, Belkai."

"Arak, wait." Belkai smiled. "Will you join me and Davos for a meal?"

Arak wrapped a massive arm around her shoulder. "Of course, child."

"And when you return to the Dominion," Belkai said, "I have a letter for my father. I would ask that you would deliver it for me."

Arak smiled. "Of course. He would be delighted."