TEARS ON THE DENUR

Queen Nidrielle’s funeral was a spectacle to behold. Hundreds of elves, riding great owls, flew over the city of Caras Avanur, dropping thousands of purple leaves and white petals. Many rode their owls in ceremonial armour or ceremonial gowns, with long pieces of purple and white fabric flowing behind them. The whole city was decorated in white and many different shades of purple.

The thousands of elves who stood or marched in the streets, singing softly, saying their goodbyes through traditional songs, were also dressed in their ceremonial attire. The white and purple clothes often had hoods and long sleeves. Many wore purple ribbons in their hair or attached around their arms and wrists, which flowed behind them. The slow, mournful singing reflected the deep sadness which the Avanurians felt at the loss of their queen.

The great queen’s hearse travelled along wooden platform that twisted and turned along the top of the canopy, dipping below and rising above it in different parts of the metropolis.

This wooden boulevard served as a main road for this central area of the city. It was surrounded by raised boardwalks for pedestrians and ornate, wooden buildings with purple tiled rooves and large balconies. There were elves in large crowds on either side of the boardwalk and on the balconies, watching as the funeral cortege passed through.

Even the median, where marvelous trees with white petals and hundreds of purple flowers had been planted, was filled with elves, calmly watching the funeral proceedings.

The cortege was led by Nidrielle’s great unicorn, Taledlev, its saddle removed and its long, white mane flowing behind it as it moved along at a slow trot. Its posture still conveyed great pride, though it somehow looked solemn as well, the unicorn’s chipper expression missing from its face and its eyes lacking their usual shine.

Behind the unicorn, pulling the hearse, were white pegasi. The majestic creatures were one of Nirdalune’s dearest creation, second only to unicorns, making them very dear to the Avanurians as well, who had chosen it as their symbol. They never rode them into battle, as those in other elven kingdoms often did, and only healers were allowed to use them on the battlefield, recovering wounded elves when the danger of battle had passed.

Avanur was the kingdom with the most pegasi in the Northern Region. Only in the Eastern Region were there kingdoms that even compared. Most often, the pegasi lived alongside the elves in the many cities of the kingdom. The elves fed them and took care of them, making it hard for the pegasi to resist living among them. In exchange, they agreed through telepathic communication to serve as mounts, providing transportation to nobles and clerics.

Nidrielle’s funeral hearse was made of white wood with beautifully carved angels, pegasi and elves adorning the posts and beams, to which long pieces of fabric had been attached. The periwinkle curtains were drawn back, showing the queen, who had been dressed in a ceremonial, white gown.

Nidrielle’s crown had been placed upon her head and golden jewelry decorated her wrists and neck. In her hands, was a large angel statue, its body made of amethyst and decorated in thin lines of gold, which provided details, such as a face, feathers on the wings and golden hair. Its delicate wings gracefully curved around the queen’s chest, giving the impression that they were enveloping her.

The hearse was followed by the royal cavalry, who had been the last elves to fight alongside the queen. They wore their usual golden armour and white capes, but had long, white flags tied to their lances, which were bigger and more ornate than the ones they typically had in battle. Upon them were pegasi, outlined in golden stitching.

Flying above the cortege, were hundreds of colourful birds. Most were different shades of purple or white, while others had different shades of light blue.

The most common birds were many different types of hummingbirds which paused and hovered around every so often before continuing along, weaving in between the soldiers and around the hearse. Some had long tail feathers trailing behind them, resembling the long pieces of fabric that elegantly flowed behind the elves in their ceremonial attire.

There were also many fairy wrens, their feathers matching the colours worn by many Avanurians as they were mostly purple with a large, white spot below their eyes and a few black lines on their heads and necks.

The beautiful cortege made its way through Avanur, petals and leaves falling from above as the elves sang softly. Many foreign dignitaries and emissaries had rushed to arrive in Avanur in time for the funeral proceedings. Less than a fortnight after her death, Nidrielle would be buried in the ancient burial grounds of her ancestors. The locationof the burial grounds to the north, in the ruins of Avanurnethae, the Avanurian capital before Caras Avanur, which dated back to the age when elves built on the forest floor.

At the end of their march through the city, the cortege had arrived at a large, oval platform which only had buildings on one side. The opposite edge, towards which they were headed, was blocked off by a small, ornate railing, providing a stunning view above the canopy. From there, one could see the tops of trees several kilometers away.

Caras Avanur had been built in an area where the gelvors grew on a series of mesas that resulted in a mountain-like landscape forming in the canopy. In a few areas, the trunks of some trees even rose above the regular height of the canopy before they even branched of, allowing for a magnificent view from the buildings built around them.

As they entered the large plaza, only a thin path was left before them, as the entire oval was filled with citizens of Caras Avanur and guests from the surrounding cities. Thankfully, crowds of elves were usually very respectful and the guards who marked this path did not have to worry about blocking off the civilians.

The singing grew gradually louder as the pegasi seemed to be going straight toward the edge of the oval plaza.

It is in this ordinarily peaceful section of the city that the unicorn galloped forward and suddenly stopped, turning to the side and rearing, its loud neigh blending in with the song sung by the elves.

The pegasi pulling the hearse also sped up but did not stop. Instead, they leaped up and flew into the air, the priests who held the reigns keeping the hearse afloat with their powerful magic. As the hearse left the ground, all the elves went quiet. All but one.

A tall and thin elf maiden, dressed in a simple, white gown, sang the final verse of the queen’s farewell song. She had beautiful, light purple eyes which were accentuated by the modest, white make-up she wore on her pale face. Her long, braided fuchsia hair flowed behind her as she walked alongside Taledlev, the unicorn, her feet bare.

Her beautiful, sharp voice echoed all around as she opened her arms wide, singing to the crowd and occasionally turning to face the hearse as it flew north, just above the canopy.

Suddenly, the flying carriage plunged out of sight, entering the forest below. Only druids, priests, priestesses and clerics followed on their pegasi. Many owls flew off to large towers where they nested, some of which were located on the left side of the platform, in order to restock their petals and leaves before taking off to the burial site.

Watching from one of the tall buildings on the far edge of the plaza was Ynarsil. Beside her was councillor Veristal in elaborate ceremonial robes of white and purples.

Ynarsil wore her golden ceremonial armour with a very long, Simanorion style shouldercape, which flowed all the way to the ground and dragged on the floor behind her. It was white with thin, golden outlines, creating a scene of golden pegasi, flying through the air.

On Ynarsil’s head was a small, golden crown with a pegasus in the middle, its wings spread in the air. Like many crowns of the elves, it had been designed after the old Skarian crowns, which had winged lions rearing with their wings spread behind them. The wings and head of the creature created three points that protruded above the main band of the crown, which was encrusted with white gemstones.

Many other members of the royal council, including high ranking generals in their golden armour, were also present on the balcony.

On the adjacent balconies were dignitaries and diplomats from several kingdoms. There was royalty from six of the seven major kingdoms of the Northern Regions, the exception being Serandor, of course. Many leaders had come from the smaller states of the Northern Region as well. They were especially thankful for Nidrielle’s rule as she had protected their lands time and again as less peaceful kingdoms sought to control them.

There were also representatives from kingdoms in other regions, but these were mostly diplomats. Some had even come from the Southern Region, their vibrant yellow garments sticking out in the sea of purple and white.

Ynarsil was devasted to have lost her mother and sister and yet, she was now expected to address all of these visitors. She struggled even to speak to councillors she had known for years, especially in a formal setting or when there were several of them, but now she would need to address an entire crowd.

She tried her best to appear calm as many of the elves around her would glance at her often, but on the inside, she felt as though she was crumbling.

“You’ll soon have to head down to the old city, your royal highness.” Said Veristal in a very calm voice. “But first, you must address your guests.” He paused to see her reaction and stepped in close to her. “Thank them for coming.”

Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as the thought the impending moment when she would be forced to speak in front of the large crowd unnerved her.

“I can’t do it, Veristal.” Answered Ynarsil, after a few moments of terror. Her frustration was made evident by her quavering voice.

“Of course you can, your royal highness.” Answered the councillor. “You’re a princess of Avanur. Soon to be queen!” His voice rose to try and give her confidence.

“I asked for none of it, and I am not prepared for it.” Answered Ynarsil, clearly in a state of panic. “I can’t talk in front of all those people. The words simply won’t come out.”

Ynarsil’s head dropped, and her hand quickly moved up to her eye, as if she could physically prevent the tears from falling. Her breathing was uneven, and her teeth pressed down on her bottom lip with such force she thought it might start to bleed.

“I know.” Said Veristal, his voice soft and gentle. “You have always found it challenging to speak to strangers. And kings and queens are very intimidating, I understand. Which is why I have brought you something. A precious gift from Nir Ethalas.”

Ynarsil’s head slowly rose up as she wiped the tears from her pale cheeks. Veristal handed her a silver pendant, upon which a small angel hung. Its silver wings were wrapped around an amethyst, behind it.

“What is it?” Asked the princess.

“This is a rare, magical pendant.” Replied Veristal. “It will give you the courage you need to speak to anyone. With this, you will no longer be frightened of addressing large crowds or having conversations with intimidating dignitaries. This object will allow you to truly rule, your royal highness.”

Ynarsil had a confused look on her face. Her green eyes were squinted, fixated upon the amulet.

“Put it on. You’ll see.” Said Veristal, allowing the thin chain to slowly slip from his hands.

Ynarsil caught it and quickly put it on, hoping no one would notice. It seemed everyone was still focused on Oladra, the fuchsia-haired elf who was said to have had the most beautiful voice in the Northern Region. She was now walking across the plaza, carrying on with the long song of mourning for the queen. The crowds were starting to join in and sing along once again.

“No one can know of this pendant, your royal highness.” Said Veristal. “They would disapprove of a queen who uses a magical item to rule. But I, of course, know that it simply allows you to communicate with your people and will not affect the way you will rule.”

Ynarsil simply nodded. She didn’t really feel much of a difference.

“Now, we should go.” Said Veristal, signaling for the royal guards to accompany the princess. “The royal families are gathering in the Hall of Horned owls, behind these buildings.”

When she arrived at the large open gates, Ynarsil entered the hall and walked across it proudly, passing the many kings and queens who had come to pay their respects to her mother. All nodded in greeting as she walked along the magnificent, tiled floor, her gait elegant and full of grace.

The hall had large, white pillars holding up an incredibly detailed, sculpted ceiling. Depicted within the light coloured, gelvor wood was a legendary battle between the ancient Avanurians and the warriors of Cirageld, a kingdom in the western region.

The Avanurians had won a great victory, which had been attributed to the brave efforts of their elite division of great horned owls. Thus, the Hall of Horned owls had been built in their honour, and master craftsmen had been commissioned to carve out a scene which would represent their glorious victory within the vaulted ceilings.

The Hall of Horned owls, which had been built within the hollow district, where the largest gathering of great owl hollows can be found. It wasn’t anywhere near the palace and was mainly used by the lower noble houses for feasts when there were festivals in the large plaza nearby.

However, it was beautifully decorated with richly fabrics like the purple carpet on the floor and the stained-glass windows that could be seen through the pillars let in all sorts of hues of purple light. Over the years, it had become a renowned piece of architecture, which the Avanurians were proud to exhibit to their visitors, among many others.

When she reached the other side of the hall, Ynarsil found her place near the royal guards and stood in front of a large, white throne.

The chatter in the hall stopped and all turned to look at her. Ynarsil stood in front od the crowd, her top teeth instinctively pressing against her bottom lip. Surprisingly, she didn’t have the usual sensation of anxiety which made her feel the need bite into her lip. She, instead, felt a strange sensation of calmness, despite her inner turmoil. Veristal’s pendant appeared to be working.

“Dear guests of Avanur, I am thankful that you have come to pay your respects to our beloved queen as her path takes her to Nirdalune.” Began Ynarsil, astounded by the confidence the pendant had given her. “She was a great queen and will be remembered as such in Avanurian history. She was also a great mother, and I cannot describe the pain which losing her as well as my sister has caused me.” Ynarsil paused, holding back tears. “We look to the past today and remember their kind hearts. And soon, I invite you to look to a future in which their memories are honoured and their dreams for the futures of our kingdoms respected.”

Many dignitaries nodded or smiled at the idea. They had worked alongside Ynarsil as she sought peace in the Northern Region and it had been a successful endeavour, for the most part. It seemed only the Serandillians had stood against her, and the rest of the kingdoms supported her ideas.

“I am touched by your presence and hope your stay in our kingdom will be enjoyable, despite the unfortunate circumstances.” Continued Ynarsil, still in shock at her sudden ability to address the crowd. Such a situation would usually have resulted in a disaster where she froze and couldn’t speak.

“May Geldaria bless your paths.” Added Ynarsil before bowing slowly and making her way back across the hall. As she walked in here proud and elegant gait, the crowd began to clap in a calm and ceremonial manner, which was typical of the elves.

She felt a sensation of great pride as she had successfully addressed the foreign visitors without fear or even the slightest feeling of anxiety. The pendant would surely become essential to her rule.

*****

The hearse and a large group of priests and priestesses on pegasi made their way through the canopy and headed down to fly just above the Denur river.

They followed the Denur, passing through small flurries of white petals that fell from the regular sized cherry trees along its banks. The white petals glided down slowly, along with purple leaves from the trees. Both floated on the wind, rocking back and forth and twirling before dropping gently on the calm surface of the river.

Further along, the river began to pick up speed and the surface, which had previously been mirror-like, quickly turned into rapids, filled with white foam.

As the cortege made its way along the river, following it upstream. They passed many waterfalls, created by the mesas upon which Avanur had been built.

They soon reached a very wide waterfall, above which was a large lake. The lake was surrounded by waterfalls, falling from high cliffs.

The largest river to flow into the lake was the region’s namesake, the Avanur. The river flowed down from the northeast, passing through a series of large cliffs as it left the Terkin Mountains, which had created hundreds of waterfalls. The name Avanur, meaning waterfall river, had thus been given to the beautiful river.

On the shores of the lake were large stone ruins with tall, white columns, of which half were still standing. These were the ruins of Avanurnethae, a city built during the age in which elves built on the ground. Within them was the burial site of the royal family.

As the pegasi flew over the Denur, hundreds of owl riders flew down from the city in small, arrow shaped formations. They flew in different patterns over the river, dropping leaves and petals which filled the air and covered the surface of the wide river. It almost seemed as though it was snowing over the calm waters as the pegasi flew down just above the surface, the trailing hearse slightly dipping its wheels into the water.

Many pegasi and owl riders had also flown upstream, dropping petals and leaves onto the surface of the Avanur, which flowed down and fell into the large lake, slowly spreading across the norther section like alight syrup dropped into a glass of water.

On the back of the hearse were the two mages who used their magic to keep it in the air. Much like all the other priests, they were clothed in long, white robes with large hoods that fell back on their upper back and shoulders. The rims of the hoods were just above their hairlines, keeping their bright, pale faces and the circlets they wore on their foreheads visible.

Their exhaustion was becoming more and more visible as their magical powers were being drained, depleting their energy to keep the hearse afloat for such a long trip through the air.

One of them, a woman with long red hair, lost her focus as grief overcame her. She bit her bottom lip in an attempt to fight off the oncoming tears but could not supress sadness and tears began falling across her pale cheeks. The tears slowly made their way down her angular jaw and fell below, disturbing the calm surface of the lake with small ripples.

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The funeral hearse soon made a gentle landing on the overgrown, cobblestone road that passed through this section of the abandoned city. The other pegasi and great owls flew overhead, landing further along and forming a long guard of honour, which led to the burial site.

The ruins were overgrown with vines and grass, but what stood out the most were the many purple and white senetti flowers, which grew within the cracks of the cobblestone. There were also jassuria flowers, which were unique to the forest. They had light green stems with thin leaves and their powder blue petals formed long and delicate bulbs.

The layout of the buildings could still be seen with long bridges connecting different sections of the city on either side of the Avanur on plateaus above the lake. Many buildings still had walls but very few had roofs. The old city had been abandoned for centuries, but it had been made of stone, unlike the modern cities which were now made of wood, allowing large portions of it to retain their shape.

As the hearse made its way to through the city, heading to the roots of a great gelvor tree, the royal cavalry arrived on a cliff, overlooking the ruins.

Ynrasil had hurried down from the city, flying on Dolendir to meet with the royal cavalry and ride atop her mother’s unicorn. It had quickly been dressed in its golden armour, matching that of the princess.

She pulled back on the reigns, ordering Taledlev to halt for a moment. Ynarsil straightened her back and took in a deep breath as she looked down at the ruins, then returned onto the road and the cavalry followed. Her golden armour was shining in the pale light, her white shouldercape flowing behind her.

White, the colour of Nirdalune, was reserved for the Avanurin Aristocracy. This included the royal family and a large number of nobles, revered warriors as well as priests and priestesses.

The royal Avanurian burial site had been carved out of a small cliff of pale, white marble, which was common in the area. Passing above the cliff was the large root of a gelvor. The root stretched across and turned downward further down to create a sort of frame for the white background, which had been used a canvas by Avanur’s greatest sculptors.

When a king or queen was crowned, the expert craftsmen would begin carving the new regent’s tomb. The tombs were mausoleums which the regent designed based on their tastes and how they wanted to be remembered.

Nidrielle’s mausoleum was made with white, composite order columns, on which pegasi, angels unicorns and owls had been carved. It held up a roof with the purple tiles of the main city of Avanur, as opposed to the golden ones of the royal palace. The hearse had been a remarkably similar structure to the queen’s final resting place as it followed the same style.

Atop the sarcophagus itself was a statue of the queen laying down, as her body currently was, protruding from the large marble slab which would cover her remains.

Around the base of the sarcophagus, which had been made much larger than the queen’s body, were carvings which depicted important moments in her life. Both the latest carving, representing the battle in which she had died and the carving of the queen herself on top of the sarcophagus, had been done within the previous week. The few remaining sections were to be carved into depictions of her two daughters and of her trusted mount, Taledlev.

Ynarsil had already been asked about design for her future tomb, as it was tradition in Avanur for the monarch to design it themselves. She had been offended, but the master carvers simply wanted to be prepared. They told her she would likely have many years to choose but may be wise for her to give them some idea as to what she hoped for in case a tragedy ensued.

Ynarsil had thus asked for a far simpler tomb. She wanted a smaller sarcophagus on a large, low pedestal, allowing people to climb up around it. On top of the sarcophagus, she had asked for a large, rearing pegasus with its wings opened upwards behind it. But the sculptors had only asked for a general idea, knowing the princess was clearly in mourning.

The hearse slowly came to a halt, lining up perfectly with the mausoleum, and the two mages at the back climbed down to open the doors. The many healers, priests and priestesses on pegasi slowly circled down, landing near the hearse and dismounting.

The royal cavalry arrived at a slow trot, stopping behind the hearse. They too dismounted, all three hundred of them standing beside their horses. The princess simply rode behind the hearse and had Taledlev turn to face the small sarcophagus, which would soon be placed inside the tomb. She kept a straight face, managing to keep her posture upright and proud, despite the overwhelming grief.

The sorcerers lifted the large, marble slab with what little magical strength they had left, and the priests and priestesses carried the sarcophagus made their way up into the larger mausoleum sarcophagus and placed it in. As the priests and priestesses exited the sarcophagus, the sorcerers dropped the slab back onto its base, burying the queen. The singing stopped and the high priestess of Avanur said one last prayer for her beloved queen.

Ynarsil felt the warm tears flowing down her face as she came down from her unicorn and walked to the mausoleum. It all felt far more real to the young princess as the tomb was sealed with powerful magic, the priests and priestesses singing the verses of a powerful spell song to protect their queen’s remains.

Ynarsil’s mother was now truly gone. She had realized she hadn’t appreciated her mother enough and hadn’t expressed her love and admiration for her nearly as often as she should have, but it was too late now. Adding to her tremendous grief was the fact that she would be burying her sister, Waeliria, the very next day.

As the priests and priestesses finished sealing the large stone slab that covered the chamber within the mausoleum, an eerie silence filled the air.

Ynarsil, soon to be queen of the Avanurian elves, wiped the tears of her face before turning to the crowd and saying:

“I have no words to express what I feel as my mother’s path takes her to Nirdalune. I only hope that our beloved goddess sees her for the great queen, the great mother and the great woman she was.”

With that, the princess burst into tears, one of the high priestesses running to console her.

Many nobles and other members of Avanurian high society who were close to the queen walked up to the mausoleum to pay their respects then made their way back to the city. Soon the priests and priestesses left as well, followed by the military officers.

Ynarsil dismissed the royal guard, choosing to remain alone at the mausoleum, though councillor Veristal had also stayed behind.

Ynarsil approached the mausoleum and sat up against it. She had hoped to feel her mother’s presence somehow but feeling of deep emptiness remained, as if the large portion of her heart that her mother had occupied had been ripped out.

“Is there anything I can do, your royal highness.” Asked Veristal. “I hate to see you this way. But I know grieving is necessary, however unfortunate it may be.”

“No, councillor.” Answered Ynarsil in a kind tone. “You’ve done me a great service today.” She pulled the pendant out from her golden chest plate. “This little angel spared me much embarrassment today. Thank you.”

“I live to serve, your royal highness.” Answered Veristal.

As much as she appreciated the councillor, Ynarsil was often annoyed by just how often he uses the expression your royal highness. It was proper etiquette, but most would only use it at the start of a conversation and call her princess Ynarsil if need be. It was an old tradition the elves had adopted from the Skarians, which Ynarsil didn’t appreciate.

Driving that though out of her mind, the princess rose to her feet to look at the carvings in the mausoleum. Veristal approached her, also looking at the carvings.

“The craftsmanship is incredible.” Said the councillor. “Look at the detail in the scene where she was crowned queen.” Added the councillor, reaching in front of Ynarsil to point to the section, his arm awkwardly close to her face.

“Yes.” Answered Ynarsil, her voice conveying her confusion. “They did an excellent job.”

She felt awkward speaking to Veristal. His strange behaviour always seemed to put her off. Perhaps enough to overpower even the magic of the pendant, she thought, slightly amused by the notion. Then the sadness returned, and she walked around the mausoleum, looking at the statue of her mother.

“You should return home to your family, Veristal.” Said Ynarsil smiling up at him. “I’d like to be a lone for a while, and I’m sure there are plenty of patrols guarding the area.”

“As you wish, your royal highness.” Answered the councillor before turning back and making his way over to his horse. “I will see you at the coronation ceremony tomorrow.”

As she looked out across the lake, she noticed movement on one of the bridges the spanned the river further north. Having been waiting for a distraction from the grief, the princess ran to Dolendir and flew across to investigate what she had spotted.

Behind her, several owls flew from within the woods nearby, escorting their future queen. She saw three very small figures making their way across the bridge, but her attention quickly went elsewhere.

She flew over the small creatures, which were halfling sized and were making their way west, toward the edge of the abandoned city, and had Dolendir join a smaller owl, which was perched on one of its few remaining spires.

It was a great elf owl, and it was clad in white armour with thin periwinkle designs, which Ynarsil recognized to be Maeverassian armour. On the owl’s back was a halfling in similar armour, her long hair gently flowing in the wind.

“Hello, there!” Said the halfling as Ynarsil landed. But she soon realized who had just joined her and became wide eyed. “Huh, I mean.. Your… Your royal highness. Hello, your royal highness.”

Ynarsil smiled. “It’s alright.” She said “I just wanted to come to see what you were doing here is all.”

“Ah, well, I’m here to... umm… watch.” Answered the halfling. “My condolences. I did not know your mother, your highness but I heard…”

“Watch what?” Asked Ynarsil, confused by the halfling’s answer and aware she was reluctant to tell the truth.

Around them, a dozen Avanurian owl riders were now perched with rangers slowly creeping out of the surrounding forest on foot. Noticing this, Ynarsil realized she would no longer be able to have her peaceful days on the shores of the Denur.

“Them!” Answered the halfling, her high-pitched voice rising as she pointed down at the three figures Ynarsil had spotted earlier.

“And… who are they?” Asked the Avanurian princess.

“They’re travellers, your royal highness.” Answered the halfling. “We met them during the journey to Caras Avanur. There’s a harekryn, a foxkryn and a halfling. They’re from the Terkin Mountains, beyond the forest borders!”

Ynarsil nodded. Her eyes squinting as she wondered why that was of any interest to the Maeverassian halfling.

“Well…What’s your name?” Asked Ynarsil.

“I’m Galawyn of Arthanil, your royal highness. My pronouns are she and her!” Answered the halfling. “And you?”

As soon as she asked, Galawyn’s face went red with embarrassment. “Oh I mean, I’m sorry, your royal highness.” She mumbled awkwardly. “You’re princess Ynarsil, of course. I was in the Hall of Horned Owls earlier, I know that.”

“It’s alright.” Though she had met few, Ynarsil had always felt comfortable talking to halflings. Perhaps it was their small stature or childlike attitude that made her feel more at ease, but she had never felt anxious talking to people of the race.

“So, are you going to go say goodbye to them, Galawyn?” Asked Ynarsil.

“You think I should?” Asked Galawyn, her little voice cracking slightly.

Ynarsil shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t see why not. If you met them, why not wish them well on their journey? Wherever it is they are going.”

“Idalkinmiro.” Answered Galawyn in excitement. “They’re going to see the gnomes.”

Ynarsil nodded, sighing slightly. She had never cared much for the dealings of other races. She had been pushed by her mentors to focus on the political dealings among elven families and kingdoms, a task which had taken up a large part of her time for many years, throughout her upbringing.

“Well, if it’s alright with you, I think I’ll fly down and say farewell, then.” Said Galawyn, smiling.

“Of course, and farewell to you, Galawyn of Arthanil. It was a pleasure meeting you.” Said Ynarsil.

“And you, princess Ynarsil.” Answered the halfling. “I hope to meet you again. I am among those who have been assigned to stay in Avanur as a symbol of the bond between our kingdoms, actually. I’m not very skilled in combat, but I have been blessed with the Gift of Renthalas.”

The Gift of Renthalas was considered to be the third of the three great gifts of the elven gods.

First was the Gift of Geldaria, which was present in almost every elf and some members of other races, to some extent.

Second was the Gift of Nirdalune, granting most elves, and a small number of members of many different races, the ability to communicate with animals and form strong bonds with them. Beyond the forest, this was the rarest and most valued gift.

The Gift of Renthalas, considered to be the third gift given that the importance given to the healing god was far lesser than that which was attributed with Nirdalune and Geldaria, granted certain individuals the power to heal wounds or cure illnesses. It was a fairly common gift among many races, but it varied in strength. Those who were proficient in its use could heal deep wounds and treat most illnesses, but they were rare, and they needed a lot of time and energy to accomplish their tasks.

The gods of many other races granted their followers the power to heal, but, along that of a few other gods, the Gift of Renthalas was considered to be superior in strength. Its potential was astounding as the greatest healers were said to have reattached entire limbs after they had been severe from the bodies of elves, in ancient times.

“I am glad to have you among us, Galawyn.” Said Ynarsil. “Healers are revered in Avanur, as they must also be in Maeveras. Welcome to the Avanurian kingdom!” As she finished speaking, the princess smiled and ordered Dolendir to glide down, returning to the burial grounds.

The princess had felt slightly better speaking to Galawyn, but it became clear to her it was simply a short escape from the deep sadness she was facing. She returned to the mausoleum and spent the afternoon there, weeping for her mother and sister.

The following day, she would burry her sister and be crowned Queen of Avanur.

*****

Waeliria’s funeral was far less grandiose than that of her mother, but no less devastating for Ynarsil. She too was buried in Avanurnethae, in a forest cemetery where trees were planted to grow beside the headstones, often enveloping them in their bark.

The tears didn’t seem to stop pouring from Ynarsil’s eyes, despite her efforts to try and stop them. As they flowed down her slender, freckled face, she felt defeated and wished the coronation could have been another day.

The coronation did happen that day, however, in the Great Hall of Avanur. The giant hall looked very similar to the Hall of Horned Owls, in which Ynarsil had spoken to her guests the pervious day. The Great Hall, however, was five times as big, its massive pillars holing up a three-hundred-meter-high vaulted ceiling, on which pegasi had been carved as if they were flying in the clouds above. This was a far more peaceful and serene scene than that which had been carved on the ceiling of the Hall of Horned Owls.

The massive hall had been filled with the foreign dignitaries and diplomats, as well as representatives from every noble house in Avanuria, hundreds of religious leaders and the largest gathering of Avanurian officers in years, which took up a large chunk at the back portion of the hall.

Seeing this large crowd, Ynarsil felt anxious once again. She waited for the feeling to pass, hoping for the pendant’s magic to save her once again but felt nothing. The anxiety turned to panic as she ran her hand across her neck to feel the pendant, but it wasn’t there.

She desperately searched the ground around her but didn’t see anything. How had she lost it without realizing? When had she lost it? When had she last seen it?

The ceremony began and she subtly asked Veristal if he knew where it was, but he had no idea. He told her he could speak on her behalf and blame the grief for her inability to address her guests.

“Your queen will address you when her mourning period comes to a close.” He later said to the crowd.

Thus, it was in a solemn and silent ceremony that Ynarsil was crowned, giving her control of the most influential and powerful kingdom in the Northern Region of Nilduras. The priests and priestesses sang hymns, but the crowd remained quiet and there was no speech by the queen or any of her councillors.

After the ceremony, Ynarsil hurried to her chambers to check if the pendant had fallen off in her bed. She promptly took off her new crown and placed it gently on her nightstand. It resembled the one she wore as a princess but had a much larger pegasus and amethysts encrusted within the golden band.

Ynarsil looked for the pendant in every little corner of her chambers but couldn’t find it. She retraced her steps in her mind and realized the last places she had been before returning to the palace had been the burial grounds in Avanurnethae.

Upon leaving her chambers, Ynarsil found Veristal waiting for her, his arms crossed behind his back.

“Have you found it, your grace?” Asked the councillor quietly.

“No.” Answered the newly crowned queen, her shaky and frail.

“Where will you search next? Avanurnethae?” Asked Veristal, walking alongside Ynarsil as she crossed the hall that led to a courtyard. On the other side of the courtyard was a small tower within which Dolendir’ hollow had been created. A large, oval opening allowed the owl to fly into the chamber atop the tower, where comfortable fabrics and pillows had been placed.

“Yes.” Answered Ynarsil in a callous tone. “Fetch Valryka, she can help me search.”

“Very well, your grace.” Answered Veristal.

Valryka then stopped and turned toward the councillor. “You were right, Veristal” she said. “No one can know about this. I trust only you and Valryka with this information. Simply send her to meet me in the burial grounds. I will explain the situation to her.”

“Anything else, your grace?” Asked Veristal.

Valryka thought for a while then answered. “Yes.” she said. “There’s a Maeverassian halfling named Galawyn who was just put in our service by her king and queen. I want her brought to the palace later on.”

Veristal frowned, wondering why the queen wanted to speak to this newcomer and how she even knew of her.

“She was there, Veristal.” Said Ynarsil in a serious tone. “The last time I saw the pendant was yesterday, just before you left. After you left, I flew across the lake because I saw travellers passing through the ruins and found her. Perhaps she can help. But don’t tell her a thing.”.

“Naturally.” Answered the councillor, bowing.

The princess hurried to the door of the tower and made her way up the stairs, to Dolendir. She was in a state of panic and could barely handle the conversation with Veristal.

Ynarsil flew to Avanurnethae and searched for hours with Valryka’s help. She explained the whole situation to her friend, who didn’t really see the importance of the necklace, but did her best to look for it. She had rarely lacked confidence and couldn’t relate to Ynarsil’s struggle with public speaking. Ashamed, Ynarsil had spoken very little of her crippling anxiety.

Unfortunately, they found no sign of the crystal, exhaustion overwhelming the new queen. Ynarsil collapsed as she searched the surroundings of her sister’s tomb for what seemed to be the hundredth time. Valryka rushed over and escorted her to Dolendir, several guards approaching from a distance to ensure their queen didn’t need medical attention.

As night fell on the forest, they arrived at the palace to find Galawyn happily waiting. Veristal was there as well, instructing the guards not to disturb them.

They were in a large, circular room which had been designed for small meetings or for the royal family to carry out their studies. Ynarsil had spent long hours in this room and didn’t particularly enjoy it, but it was perfect for this purpose, it’s size and location allowing for complete secrecy.

At first, she subtly tried to ask if Galawyn had found anything the previous day. To which the halfling simply replied: No.” But as the conversation went on, Ynarsil revealed more and more information, to the point where Galawyn understood that the queen had lost an object which had magical properties.

“Oh, but wait!” Said Galawyn, her high-pitched voice startling Ynarsil. “You lost something magical, didn’t you? The halfling traveler spoke of a magical gift yesterday, some sort of crystal.”

Galwayn paused, trying to remember any details she may have forgotten o mention.

“He didn’t have time to explain because they were in a hurry and guards came and asked them to keep going on their way.” Added the halfling. “But, perhaps, he knows something about the item you’re looking for.”

“Of course!” Said Veristal. “Your grace, you said the three figures, these travelers, seemed to be in a hurry when you saw them. While, according to Galawyn, they had been given permission to cross our lands, therefore giving them no reason to run from us.” He continued, slowly pacing around the round table as he had been since they had entered the room. “And you, Galawyn, you said they seemed to be in a rush to leave. I’m guessing your friend stopped talking about his “magical crystal” when the guards arrived.”

The halfling nodded.

“They stole it, your grace. Those travellers found your necklace and ran before anyone could notice.” Added Veristal, raising his voice in a dramatic way. “One of your royal guards sensed the presence of a magical item within Avanurnethae as they passed through the ruins. That must have been it!”

“Oh, but I doubt he would have stolen it.” Said Galawyn. “The halfling said it was a gift. Someone must have given it to him.”

“You barely even know these outsiders, halfling.” Said Veristal in a harsh, patronizing tone. “Do not be so quick to defend them. The honour and dignity of Nildurans is seldom matched by those from beyond our borders.”

Galawyn was reluctant to accept that her new friends were thieves but nodded as the councillor’s words reflected what she had been taught in Maeveras.

“They were in a rush to save someone.” She said, her voice soft and shy.

“Surely, this was a lie to cover their tracks.” Said Veristal. “I now recall receiving a report of their passing through our land. My rangers detected there was something suspicious about them. The harekryn is Sefaloy of Terkin, he has passed through our lands many times. Our astute rangers had already had their doubts about the mischievous kryn.”

Veristal paused, assessing the situation based on Ynarsil’s expression. She seemed fairly convinced, unlike the halfling.

The newly crowned queen knew that Veristal was letting himself be influenced by his hatred for kryn and all non-elven races, but she couldn’t deny that this was unlikely to be a simple coincidence. The trio she had spotted had surely found or stolen her pendant, though, she did understand that Galawyn was having a hard timing seeing past their friendly appearances.

“I will send rangers to hunt them down, your grace.” Said the councillor, his tone aggressive. “We will get your pendant back.” He added, eager to please his new queen.

“No.” Said Valryka.

“And why…” Started Veristal, before being interrupted by Valryka.

“If they have the pendant, I will hunt them down myself.” Clarified the eastern ranger. “No one else needs to know.”

“Is this your wish, your grace?” asked Veristal, turning to Ynarsil.

Ynarsil simply nodded, taking a deep breath, which came in short bursts, conveying her frustration.

“I am sure they will regret having stolen from the Queen of Avanur.” Added Veristal.

“I will come with you myself!” Added the queen, turning to Valryka. She felt as though couldn’t stay in the capital until she recovered the pendant. It was her key to ruling Avanur.

“Galawyn, will you come along?” Asked the queen, rising from her seat.

“I am at your service, your grace.” Answered the halfling.

“Then it is done.” Added the new Queen of Avanur. “The three of us will leave in the morning and make short work of this mission.”

“But your grace, you’ve only just been crowned queen.” Said Veristal. “There is so much for you to do here. Who knows how long it will take you to retrieve the pendant?”

The councillor paused, then looked into Ynarsil’s eyes with a kind expression and asked: “Who will watch over Avanur in your stead?” It was clear to all in the room he had asked, hoping to be entrusted with the task, but Ynarsil didn’t have time to consider any other councillors and she was happy to leave him in charge, knowing he would be able to hide the reason for her departure from the Avanurian nobility.

“You will, Veristal.” Answered Ynarsil. “Now, we must rest. We leave at first light.” She added. “Pack light, we won’t be long.”

“Thank you, your grace.” Said Veristal as Ynarsil began walking toward the door. “I will not fail you.” He added, proudly.

With that, they all exited the room, and the three women went to make preparations for their departure the following day.