Aelrindel, of Edlenn

Lady Lenar,

Moon of Dan,

Nesande’s Shade Daughter

Plenty of both… in Wetull

Young Zilyana of Aeleniel turned her purple-blue eyes on the newcomer, her song changing like the bitter cold wind howling outside the high-ceiling hall of her late mother’s estate. The man, a strikingly symmetrical face and different color eyes, one deep silver, the other a lighter shaded silver-blue, paused and offered a slight bow with his head. He wore an expensive, but well-worn long leather coat and black-whale leather boots. Covered in mud and frozen snow.

Aelrindel couldn’t sense him at all, as if the man wasn’t there, or as if he wasn’t a Zilan at all. Despite Paeris being older than her and her mother’s generation. Little was known about the handsome Zilan, other than him being an advisor to the late King Ninthalor and presumably his paramour. The ever-growing dissenters to the Queen’s rule had named a consort. An Elderborn of a hidden unnamed bloodline, or perhaps this was an attempt to avoid yet another scandal.

How did that bard’s apocryphal song go?

Each night till the first of dawn,

Elegant Nueleth lies with two men in her King’s bed,

Each night till the first of dawn

Dutifully loves one of them, whilst the King couples wit both.

She could understand her young pupil’s worry. Paeris was an enigmatic creature. Unsettling.

“I hail,” Paeris said with a disconcerting, cold smile. “Nesande’s Shade Daughter.”

“Lenar, will suffice,” Aelrindel said and pushed back on her comfortable throne. “What brings you to Dan Paeris?”

“The change in name noted,” Paeris replied and eyed a hissing Zilyana with interest. “I favored your mother.”

“She didn’t much like you,” Aelrindel blurted out, before she could stop herself. Paeris didn’t even blink. Zilyana narrowed her eyes.

“I favored your mother,” He repeated monotonously and Aelrindel felt a shiver running down her spine. “She’s gone.”

“Yes, she is,” She croaked, clenching her fists tightly. “For a while now Paeris.”

“You seek vengeance,” Paeris said and she puffed out surprised. “Retribution.”

“I’m trying… we’re trying to survive Paeris,” Aelrindel replied. Truth be told she hadn’t thought about much since escaping her mother’s fate.

“Retribution,” Paeris repeated, his eyes dead on that perfectly chiseled face.

“I’m not a general, or a leader,” She said measuring her words. “I don’t know what you’re seeking here Paeris. We’re exiles the lot of us.”

“A leader will come from beyond the Scalding Sea,” Paeris started and Aelrindel felt the Goddess touch on her cold skin. “He’ll create an opening for your retribution at this opportune time, but he won’t survive unless you help him.”

“What’s so opportune about it?” Aelrindel asked him getting up and late King Ninthalor’s lover told her, his perfect face a hollow mask and his words the most baleful of prophesies.

“The earth’s bowels shall roar, this Realm shall be torn apart and the Queen’s rule shall be broken.”

“The Realm isn’t falling apart here Phanti!” Prince Sahand retorted furious at the suggestion and Aelrindel snapped out of her reverie and into the present. The dead Duke’s former throne room a copy of her mother’s hall in Dan by now. The men bickering at her breakfast table loud and very annoying. She felt Lithoniela coming from her morning stroll at Yeriden and grimaced.

“Ri Yue-Tu has fallen,” Saam Phanti the Khan’s First Advisor repeated. “Yuetu Fort lies in ruins and the Second Foot landed on Eplas.”

“A couple of thousand men,” Sahand dismissed him. “I’ve sent word to Duke Victor in Altarin to move to Hellfort and block them. The army is ready to move anyway.”

Advisor Phanti shook his head. “There’s an army near Eikenport, another coming from the North. Where will your army go next my Prince?”

“Prince Radin took back Jadefort,” Sahand told him. “He’ll move towards Eikenport and soar up things there.”

“With what forces?” Phanti asked him.

“It’s a raiding party what Scaldingport has sent. They are trapped in the middle of nowhere and can’t move. Radin will manage.”

“What if he doesn’t? What about the North? Do you trust that Reeves traitor not to switch allegiances again? Once a traitor—”

“For crying out loud!” Sahand erupted. “He can’t ask for a pardon, Antoon wants his head on a pike Phanti!”

“Prince Atpa hasn’t moved against Sadofort, Prince Nout informed us,” Phanti said changing the subject. Sahand scowled at him.

“Prince Nout is sick. Unwell and probably misinformed. He should have finished off Sir Robert Van Durren by now anyway. Perhaps he’s even trying to shift the blame?”

“Prince Nout blocked the First Foot from escaping into the desert and joining the High King’s forces at Devil’s Cove,” Phanti argued not amused. “Prince Atpa was supposed to use his men to finish the job, yet he hasn’t moved in six months.”

Stupid Prince Atpa.

A cunning snake that needed its head crushed.

Sahand sighed and pushed back on his seat. “I don’t know what is halting my brother’s army Phanti. The desert is a difficult mistress,” He glanced her way at that and Aelrindel smiled sugary sweating in the effort not to roll her eyes. Sahand smiled back and reached for the cut in her dress under the table, nimble fingers slipping between her thighs.

Aelrindel got up abruptly to avoid a difficult to explain lashing out in front of an ever watching Phanti. Another snake, Goddess they are everywhere!

“I’ll bring some tea,” She said, a vein throbbing on her right temple.

“We have servants for that dear,” Sahand argued retrieving his hand.

“It is a pleasure to serve you, my Prince,” She croaked and returned Phanti’s unconvinced stare. He probably tastes like an old goat, Aelrindel decided. But still, she hadn’t had goat in a while.

The cat meowed and she snapped at her furious. The black cat put her paw on the expensive gold-engraved decanter and shoved it off the table. It broke into a thousand pieces just as a fresh Lithoniela entered her quarters.

“I take it your meeting with the Prince didn’t go well?” Lithoniela asked stooping to pet the cat hiding behind her legs to avoid Aelrindel’s wrath.

Uh.

You old horny turd.

“I’ve had worse. The war isn’t going as smoothly as everyone seemed to have thought it would,” She replied eyeing the cat warningly.

“The city is slowly recovering at least,” Lithoniela noted sensing her mood. “You’re saddened the Prince is leaving?”

I don’t give a shit about the Prince!

Aelrindel sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“I fail to see a single quality about him,” Lithoniela told her honestly, as if she knew what she was talking about.

“He has a finely shaped cock and knows how to use it,” Aelrindel deadpanned and watched her royal façade of haughtiness crack up.

“You are looking to procreate with him? What need have you of—?”

“Some find physical pleasure equally useful and helpful your highness,” Aelrindel cut her off seeing her stuttering to find the words.

“Mate like humans?” Lithoniela hissed her eyes glowing. “That’s disgusting.”

Good grief, everyone in nature does it child!

The rest is fluff and not the other way around.

The sorceress sighed and stared at Wulan entering her quarters.

What is it? She asked her in the Silent Tongue.

The caravan from Dan is here, Wulan replied.

Ah.

Fuck you Ralnor for dropping them on my lap and legging it.

“Dear Lithoniela, I may have some visitors,” She said.

“Exiles,” Lithoniela noted.

“Zilan,” Aelrindel corrected her. “Some of them Elderblood.”

“They are here?” Lithoniela said now more interested.

“Would you like to meet them?”

“They probably hate me,” Lithoniela murmured.

“It’s been two hundred years Princess,” Aelrindel explained calmly. “And you weren’t to blame.”

“You question my mother’s rule?” Lithoniela hissed.

“I suggest keeping old politics away from the meeting,” Aelrindel cautioned her. “Look forward Princess and not to the past.”

Wow, she thought surprised with herself. That was a fine advise you sprouted there girl. Sounding all mature and motherly. Ugh. Wish you could apply it to yourself though. Hmm?

Yeah, you can’t.

“Who’s first?” She asked a silently watching and shamelessly grinning Wulan and the slave made a face before replying.

“Zilyana, she insisted. There was a row of sorts. It turned bloody.”

Oh, Goddess, Aelrindel thought and collapsed on her throne. No race is more bothersome to govern, or look after than your children.

“Send the Second Priestess in, Wulan,” She ordered her and sensed Lithoniela tensing up at the prospect of meeting another practitioner of the ‘Dark Arts’. Aelrindel had to remind herself again that the Princess was naught but a young teen in years, when the world had burned and in a sense she hadn’t come out of it yet.

“Priestess Mother,” A worn out but comely Zilyana said bursting inside, pausing realizing there was another Elderblood present.

“Priestess Daughter,” Aelrindel greeted her. “This is Lithoniela, of Baltoris.”

Zilyana took a step back as if slapped in the face, blinked and then answered with her hands shaking.

“The Queen’s daughter?”

Aelrindel rolled her eyes and wished Ralnor was there to help her navigate the younger generation’s hysterics.

“Yes child, Baltoris had only the one. It’s an established fact.”

Zilyana took a step forward and prostrated herself at Lithoniela’s feet, even hanging her muddy boots with desperation.

“Your highness do not send us away!” She begged and the panic flooding out of her skin turned Aelrindel’s stomach.

Lithoniela stooped to pick her up from the floor. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to Zilyana, of Aeleniel,” Aww, were they both in the academy at the same time? She thought curious. That’s so sweet. “Alas my mother’s rule is broken.”

Thank the fuckin’ goddess for that!

The Goddess being me.

“Will you be taking over your highness?” Zilyana said still holding Lithoniela's hand enthralled and Aelrindel narrowed her eyes.

What?

“I’m not looking to rule,” Lithoniela replied honestly and looked at them very moved. “But I want our kind to have a future.”

Eh, that is all fine honey, but talk is cheap. You need to get your hands dirty for that and take a cock with a smile on your lips.

As if on que, Aelrindel watched one-eyed Faelar, of Ralocan walking inside fully armed and as mean as she remembered him. The former Imperial Ranger nodded with his head and took a spot near her balcony rigid as a board.

Ralnor’s friends had arrived.

But the master Assassin himself had gone rogue looking for a long dead man on Jelin to support an outlandish theory.

“A talking cat?” Lithoniela queried and she turned her eyes on the two younger Zilan talking all grins and giggles, a little surprised at the topic.

“Let me show you, Melon?” Zilyana asked the black cat and Melon snorted and looked up with his strikingly green and dark grey eyes.

“Yes, small tits?” The cat said in a sly voice and Zilyana crooked the left side of her mouth humbled.

“You call him Melon?” Lithoniela gasped and walked towards the talking cat.

“He liked melons in his youth, slurped them up all the time,” Zilyana explained trying to walk through her awkwardness and Melon blinked totally stunned at her stupidity.

“It turned my piss a fine red that lasted and made all them pussies wild,” He corrected her and Lithoniela paused unsure at the vulgarity. “Hmm, you smell nice there,” The lecherous cat continued with a wink. “How about I give ye a thorough licking? Now it might tickle a tad, but the big-titted witch doesn’t seem to mind.”

Lithoniela glanced at the aforementioned sorceress, blushed to the roots of her hair and Aelrindel just shrugged her shoulders not sure what the fuss was about, until she remembered not everyone was as carefree in these matters as she was.

Oh well.

Faelar twisted his head around and threw an austere warning glare at the three flushed Zilan females, Wulan and Melon the not embarrassed rare talking cat. But it was impossible to hold back the tide. Zilyana burst out laughing first, Wulan went right after her and Aelrindel with Lithoniela did the same almost at the same time.

The sound of their happiness almost divine, as much as foolish.

Aelrindel felt the moisture on her skin, the wind blowing behind the throne and Lithoniela’s vibrant laughter giving her tapestries a golden hue. Water splashed down, birds chirped and Melon started singing in his discordant voice, murdering every note much to the cackling girls delight. The sorceress grimaced and pushed herself up feeling left out, the thin dress sticking on her body fully soaked and her feet slippery on her high-heeled sandals.

“Zilyana,” She said walking carefully not to slip up and fall into the pond her pupil had created behind her throne room, as despite appearances there was still marble tiles underneath it. Breaking a hip now will just drive the nail in. “People are unware but suspicious. How are you going to explain all this?”

Zilyana raised her blue head out of the water, a couple of meters to the side Lithoniela trying to stop Melon from eating one of the imaginary birds he’d caught whilst no one was looking.

“Who cares about the people?”

“You should, for they will burn you at a stake,” Aelrindel replied lowering herself and sitting on her heels. “And torture you, if they realize you are a Zilan and a sorceress.”

Zilyana’s mostly purple eyes flashed angry. “You still bed that fool! I can’t believe you wanted me to marry him!”

“You didn’t though, for I stepped in to save your stupid arse. Bringing the Khanate to our darn door!” Aelrindel hissed angrily. “If you had gone through with it, you would have doomed us all and the Khan’s army would be at Dan now burning everything down. You think I want this fucking responsibility? My mother’s work falls on my shoulders!”

“I will feast on the lot of them!”

“And you’ll choke on them fool! Have you any idea how many serve the old Horselord? The High King and the Lords of Jelin? Millions!”

“Don’t you control the Khanate?” Lithoniela asked from where she stood at the banks of Zilyana’s stupid pond. Aelrindel hissed and got up. Cut a vine down from the springs and walked gingerly on the slippery terrain to return to the table, grass and mud under her heels. Stooping she reached for the broken pieces of glass from the decanter still on the floor. Half the throne room had turned into wilderness, the rest of it was as it had been that morning.

“Alurae… Cilintir,” She said and felt Zilyana’s spell dissolve through the wilting vine and the glass turning into a square piece of mirror. Gone was the garden and the clear waters. The bird turning to air in a grimacing Melon’s mouth.

Ugh.

“What?” Lithoniela gasped behind her back. “How did she do that?”

“Yes mother, how did you do that?” Zilyana asked greatly pissed at Aelrindel for ruining her stupid spell.

Aelrindel lifted the crude mirror up and stared herself on its polished surface.

Every spell has a thread, Edlenn reminded her.

Find the thread youngling and you’ll undone it.

Every secret leaves a shadow.

Find its shade youngling and all will be revealed.

“What is it Aelrindel?” Lithoniela asked always worrying, after she approached her and stared at the sorceress through the looking glass.

Living like a hermit for centuries has driven the young Princess to near insanity.

But her perception was strong and she was right.

“Reeves has a Wyvern, Princess,” The Sorceress said and Zilyana gasped in horror almost going down. Lithoniela frowned and crossed her arms on her naked breasts.

I should probably explain again the rules of living among people to both of them, she thought, opting to leave it for a later time.

“Glen… has a wyvern,” The Imperial Princess repeated.

“He hatched an egg.”

“Where did he find the egg?”

Ah, so you didn’t know.

Hmm.

“Where do you think he did?” Aelrindel asked looking at her thinking it through.

“Ovinet went back to Wetull,” Lithoniela replied. “She was very sick.”

Aelrindel felt sick as well at that point.

With guilt.

Fuck.

“She didn’t,” Her voice had come out a croak.

“Glen had no egg in Oakenfalls,” Lithoniela insisted, visibly rattled at the revelation. “It’s a miracle he lives—”

“He reached Eikenport,” Aelrindel cut her off again impatiently and Zilyana stood back surprised. The sorceress didn’t care about decorum at this point though, the empire was dead and they had a mess in their hands to clear up. Assuming Ralnor’s outlandish conspiracy theories proved wrong. “For all intent and purposes, the Wyvern is leading him to Wetull.”

“Why?” Zilyana whispered.

Aelrindel grimaced and lifted the square mirror, balancing it at the tips of her fingers like a disk.

“Alurae… Ohte, a Cillintir,” She said and the crude mirror folded like a fabric and morphed into an oval-shaped rock quartz.

Returned being the correct word.

The thread found and pulled. It looked like a large egg made out of glass. “Everything can be unmade and vice versa,” Aelrindel added thoughtfully.

“The Wyvern will look to make more,” Lithoniela elucidated still clutching her shoulders. “All it needs is the raw materials… and magic.”

Plenty of both… in Wetull, was her meaning.