Two red-robed soldiers followed in the sage superior’s wake. The metal armor fitted beneath their robes clinked softly as they moved at an awkward pace, caught between keeping up with their esteemed leader and maintaining an air of regality. Sadly, they failed on both accounts, looking less like imposing escorts and more akin to crabs scuttling along the beach amidst low tide. Once inside, the soldiers heaved the ornately carved doors shut before taking their positions on either side of the grand entryway.
Daana’s sixth sense told her the pair were magical. She could feel power wafting off of them from across the gathering hall. That, however, was nothing in comparison to the raw energy emitting from the elf that strode confidently towards them. The call of magic rippled over’s Daana’s skin, teasing every hair into the air. She took a breath, trying desperately to ignore what felt like ants crawling up her spine, and focused on the sage superior instead.
The elf in question was several inches taller than Daana, with dark, spiraling curls, and features so sharp, they could cut with a single glance. She wore a cropped blue cape over a thick, padded doublet. The paired skirt was plain but sensible, unlike her boots, which had more buckles and ties than a carriage harness. Considering the amount of time that had gone into securing the sage superior’s footwear, it was a small miracle she’d arrived in a timely manner at all.
Not important, Daana told herself. Here we go. Play it cool. You’re a competent, badass, long lost daughter not looking for anyone’s approval, just answers.
In spite of the internal pep talk, Daana’s legs still wobbled as she stepped away from the table, intent on meeting the approaching elf halfway. The sage superior didn’t offer so much as a courtesy glance as she swept past, eyes narrowed and focused on Ashwyn. For all of the effort poured into her appearance, the same care, alas, did not extend to the elf’s sense of decorum.
“Ashwyn Pride,” her voice rang out until the very rafters shuddered in protest, “where is my army?”
An expert in the game of tit-for-tat, Ashwyn remained seated at the long table. She drummed her fingertips against the stained wood, utterly unintimidated by the sage superior’s curt greeting. “Outside the settlement walls last I checked.” She tilted her head to the side and flashed a winning smile. “Are you in the habit of losing your armies, Larky? Kind of hard to miss a thing like that.”
Larkspur’s brisk steps stopped short of the table. “How many did you bring with you?”
“Three.”
“Three hundred or three thousand?”
“Three thousand?” Ashwyn said with a strained laugh. “Look, if you’re really desperate to stretch the numbers, I suppose we could bump it to four if you counted the horse. He is an honorary member of the team at this point. But that’s the best I can do.”
The sage superior held her tongue as a flush of color tinted her brown skin an unflattering shade of red. And then, just as she looked to be on the verge of losing her temper, the fury vanished, dismissed with a wearisome roll of her dark eyes. “Oh dear gods,” Larkspur murmured, raising a hand to massage the wrinkle lines cutting across her forehead. “It’s been so long since someone has dared utter a witticism in my presence, I fear I no longer recognize them.”
Ashwyn only smiled as her gaze darted to Daana as if to say ‘what the fuck’s a witticism?’
“Forgive my sharpness, old friend,” Larkspur continued. “As all of my correspondences have gone unanswered thus far, I feared that I was being willfully ignored.”
Ashwyn, like Daana, had absolutely no idea what the elf was rambling on about. Unlike Daana, Ashwyn decided she didn’t care. The orc saw her opportunity and seized it, neatly steering the conversation back in the direction she intended it to go. “No apology necessary.” She gestured for Daana to approach. “Now, as to why I am here. Larkspur, allow me to introduce you to–”
“You can introduce me to your officials soon enough. First, I want to hear the news on Oralia. Surely she is well on her way by now, yes? With an actual army in tow, I should hope.”
“...I think there may be some confusion here, Larky. I didn’t show up on your doorstep on Oralia’s behalf.”
“Enough with the useless jests already. I do not enjoy them. Just as I am not enjoying the course of this conversation. Stop stalling and tell me where your sister is.” Larkspur continued in spite of Ashwyn’s obvious confusion, as if hoping a spew of critical information would jog the orc’s poor memory. “I issued a call-to-arms months ago. Four months, Ashwyn. That should have warranted a response by now. I cannot keep sitting idle while Oralia traipses the countryside uprooting every insignificant realm outpost she stumbles across. Her place is here, by my side. I–”
Larkspur stopped mid-rant, noticing the way Ashwyn’s open-mouthed gaze had wandered back to Daana. The sage superior’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you keep looking at the elfling? Should I be demanding answers from your inferior instead? I swear, it’s like you don’t even realize…”
A flash of clarity extinguished the fire burning within Larkspur’s umber eyes. “You,” she started, forced to try again when the rest of her sentiment neglected to roll from her tongue in a single go, “you don’t know what is going on, do you?”
“No idea,” Ashwyn assured her.
“And you don’t have an army with you?”
“Definitely not.”
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“And Oralia?” Larkspur’s eyebrows lifted high on her head, almost pleadingly.
“Could have settled down and started an orphanage for wayward criminals, for all I know. Oralia and I haven’t spoken in years.”
The fire within Larkspur’s dark eyes rekindled with twice the fury as before. “That cutthroat snake! I knew she couldn’t be trusted.” Her foot slammed against the hardwood floor as she looked up and down the gathering hall with sudden, dead set purpose. The sage superior’s harsh glare passed over Daana only briefly in her search. “Where is she?”
“Larky, I told you. Oralia’s not here.”
“Not Oralia. Your damned wife!”
The snap of Ashwyn’s tusks was so powerful, it elicited a flinch from everyone gathered, including the guards. The orc stood and squared her shoulders, imparting a particularly leveling glare that made Daana grateful it was not aimed at her. “Speak about Ellisar in that tone again and I will walk out that door without another word. Is that understood?”
From the corner of her vision, Daana saw the way the soldiers’ hands moved to their sides, palming the hilt of their swords as they waited for the command to charge. Their faces were grim. Even without a weapon in hand, Ashwyn’s physical stature made armed witch soldiers think twice about challenging her.
Larkspur’s clenched jaw softened as her proud shoulders dropped. For the first time since her arrival, she looked something other than angry. “Ashwyn, my dear friend, forgive me. I think we both may have been misled. Will you allow me to explain my side? And then I will hear yours?”
Once more, Daana’s and Ashwyn’s eyes met. With a single raised eyebrow, Ashwyn sought Daana’s permission, circumventing the need for spoken words. While this was not the homecoming Daana had hoped for, they were here and her mother was present. It wouldn’t hurt to push the introductions until everyone was on the same page, she supposed. Daana waved her hand as she bit back a sigh, signifying that it was alright with her.
Larkspur noticed the curious back-and-forth and, from her curled expression, was biting back a myriad of questions. Why in the seven realms of chaos Commander Pride was taking orders from a lowly elfling topped the list, undoubtedly.
“By all means, then,” Ashwyn said. “Explain to us what is going on.”
Larkspur’s explanation was well-rehearsed, as if she’d spent a lifetime rearranging the words within her head until they were perfect. “After I fled the realm, I did not simply disappear into obsoletion. I have been planning, plotting, designing a way to make everything right again. For the last seventy-four years, I have been training refugee witches with the sole intention of overthrowing the Division of Divination and, by extension, the United Territories of the Realm.”
There was an uncomfortable drop in conversation as Larkspur waited, watching Ashwyn’s blank expression for a tell. If she was expecting some sort of grand response, she didn’t get one. Ashwyn offered the verbal equivalent of a patronizing pat to the head. “Good for you, Lark.”
“None of this is supposed to be a surprise to you. You were supposed to have been kept in the loop!” Larkspur pinched the bridge of her nose and winced. “I am on the cusp of war. This is not the time to be discovering that the person tasked with delivering my messages willfully neglected to pass the information along! Is this why Oralia isn’t here? Did your wife conveniently forget to tell her as well?”
“Can we circle back to that actually? I’m still not sure what any of this has to do with Ellisar.”
“She was my point of contact! I’ve been sending Ellisar correspondences ever since her enlistment into Oralia’s faithful four. She’s been acting on my behalf for the better part of a century: siphoning witches from the Division of Divination, sending and receiving intelligence, sowing dissension, paving the way for revolution. While she wasn’t my first choice, her resilience to death made her an ideal courier. I had no reason to doubt Ellisar’s competence.” Larkspur paused, adding, “Until recently, that is. When all contact from her stopped completely.”
“Huh,” was all Ashwyn managed.
Larkspur’s body language softened as she stepped tentatively closer. “She really didn’t tell you?”
Slowly, as if in a daze, Ashwyn shook her head no.
“I’m sorry. As her partner I thought surely you, out of everyone, would have known.” Larkspur gathered the orc’s right hand into her own and clasped it. “At the very least, consider what I’m offering. What it could mean for the realm. We would be starting over, just like you always wanted. I need Oralia to handle the military operations, but I need you to rebuild. I always told you I would find a way to repay your generosity, and this is it. Together, we could make this land a haven for all. Isn’t that what you always wanted?”
Poor Ashwyn looked like she’d been roused from a nightmare. Her mouth opened and closed uselessly, still having some trouble separating reality from imagination.
“I am offering you a position as one of the key advisors. There is a long road ahead, yes, but after everything you have sacrificed, you deserve to see your ideas come to fruition. I need you by my side.”
Gingerly, with marked care, Ashwyn removed her hand from Larkspur’s grasp. “That’s thoughtful of you, but I’m not here to join your cause, Larky. I came to reunite you with your daughter.”
Larkspur’s head swiveled back in Daana’s direction. Her stare settled this time, actually taking Daana in versus simply glancing over the top of her. “This is your worst joke yet.”
“Funny how the truth works that way.” Despite the nervous smile that split across her face, the gleam in Ashwyn’s flint-colored eyes was heavy. The orc held out her arm and ushered Larkspur in Daana’s direction. “It’s a bit of a long story. The short of it is, there was a shipwreck, your daughter was found and smuggled back into the realm, raised by your mortal enemy, and is just now discovering her roots.”
Daana lifted her hand and offered a nervous wave. Whatever words were beginning to form on the tip of her tongue died the moment she found herself swept up in Ashwyn’s path, being forcefully herded towards the door.
“Obviously you two have a lot of catching up to do,” Ashwyn said. “I’ll leave you to it.”
“Hold on!” Daana tried to slow their progress by digging her heels into the slick hardwood. Alas, all she got for her efforts was a horrific squeaking sound as the worn tread of her boots skidded along the top of the floor unhindered. “You said you were going to introduce us first!”
“I just did.”
The sage superior was equally helpless against Ashwyn’s strength. “I don’t have time for this. We have a rebellion to go over!”
“See to the door please, gents,” Ashwyn told the soldiers who, caught in a moment of bewilderment, followed her orders without question. “We can discuss your war afterwards, Larky. You and Daana catch up. I have to take care of a few personal matters in the meantime.”
In a mere matter of strides, Daana found herself ushered out the doorway, down the front steps, and standing in the cool night air. From Larkspur’s perplexed expression, she appeared equally as confused as to how they got there. The sage superior glanced over her shoulder, blinking in surprise as the double doors drew shut behind them.
Larkspur’s frown deepened around the edges. “I forgot how persuasive she can be.”