“And him,” Ceredon asked, gesturing to Deathmask.
“I am Deathmask,” he said. “I lead the Ash Guild.”
“I have heard of your guilds and mercenaries,” Ceredon said, crossing his arms. Harruq noticed how his hands casually rested on the hilt of his sword. “An interesting group, the lot of you. But to the task at hand. You have come to my land and camped outside my forest. Your great city is in shambles. What is it you desire from us?”
“We seek aid,” Antonil said. “Food and clothing so we may survive the cold winter. We trek to Omn, and we humbly ask for any help you may offer.”
Ceredon shook his head in a sad, sorrowful gesture.
“The Dezren elves fled their burned, ruined lands. Humans did not give them time nor aid in crossing the rivers. Did your king offer aid when they settled here? No. Humans ignored elves, yet now humans come asking aid from elves?”
Antonil frowned. He thought of what to say, but knew it would sound trite.
“Yes,” he said at last. “I offer no justification. No excuses. Just a desperate plea to save my people.”
“Your people,” Ceredon said, chuckling. He approached the king, staring eye to eye with him. “Are they your people? What of my people? Food and water do not come free, not even to us. Do I forget their losses? Their wounds? Their honor?”
“A simple yes or no would suffice,” Deathmask said. Harruq stared at him in shock, almost expecting Aurelia to elbow him.
Ceredon stepped back, not appearing insulted or upset, only tired. Elves grabbed Deathmask by the arms, who shook his head and chuckled.
“Lead on,” he said. When he was gone, Harruq glanced to Aurelia, who only shrugged.
“There is more going on here,” Ceredon said, turning away from them and walking back to his guards. “Isn’t that right, Lady Thyne?”
“Karak’s servants have taken the city,” Aurelia said. “And forgive me, but it is Tun, not Thyne.”
She grabbed Harruq’s hand and squeezed it tight. Harruq held on, his eyes bouncing between the two elves.
“Tun,” Ceredon said. “Such an ugly name. You fight alongside these humans?”
“I do,” she answered.
“After the sacrifice your parents made?” Ceredon asked. “After their blood, their magic, and their lives, you marry a man of orc blood and side with men who took their lives?”
“My life is my own,” Aurelia said.
“And your parents' honor is theirs. I miss them greatly, Lady Thyne. But for you to arrive married to cursed blood is an insult I am almost tempted to rectify.”
“Am I missing something?” Tarlak asked.
“No,” Aurelia said, shaking her head. “I will not listen to this. Forgive me, Neyvar, but I was there. I suffered in the cold. I journeyed with our people, not you. I can forgive who I wish, love who I wish, and I bring dishonor to my father and mother only in the eyes of those blinded by hatred.”
Tarlak’s mouth hung open. Guards moved to grab her and Harruq, but Ceredon waved them off.
“She has always carried a reputation of a fiery spirit,” he told them. “Leave her be. So Karak has destroyed the city of humans. So be it. It is not our matter, the quarreling between the brother gods.”
“But it is,” Antonil said. “For we have failed what we were always sworn to protect.”
At these words Ceredon stopped. His eyes narrowed, and his hand clenched the hilt of his sword.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“The portal’s been reopened,” Tarlak said. “War demons flood into this world. Celestia’s protection is broken. Even your people are no longer safe.”
The elderly elf stared, his upper lip quivering with anger. Before he could respond, a messenger arrived, announcing the arrival of an honored guest. Aurelia visibly brightened as Dieredon followed, his bow slung on his back. He seemed surprised by their presence but hid it well.
“It is as we feared,” Dieredon said after bowing. “Orcs swarm north and west from Veldaren. Soldiers in crimson armor bearing the yellow fist have appeared, hailing from no known nation. Karak’s hand, I am sure of it.”
“Leave us,” Ceredon said to the visitors. “I will decide soon. You will be given accommodations until then.”
The guards escorted them out, leaving Dieredon and Ceredon alone in the great hall. Ceredon drew his sword, spun in a blinding whir of steel, and then thrust it into the stone floor. The loud crack echoed from wall to wall.
“They’ve doomed this world,” Ceredon said. “All through the frailty of human flesh.”
“It is my fault,” Dieredon said. “I should have tracked their assault. I thought the orcs’ numbers too small. Karak’s prophet rallied not just orcs, though. Bird-men, wolf-men, hyena-men, all under his banner.”
“Our priests talk of Celestia’s daughters,” Ceredon said. “They say two of them walk this land. What is happening, friend? How did we fail so miserably?”
“We failed because of inaction,” Dieredon said. “We failed because we have always watched, always waited, and always judged the cost. Give me the might of the Ekreissar. We can assault while their army is unaware.”
“You are rash and bloodthirsty,” Ceredon said, shaking his head. “I will not send so many valiant elves to die in vain. If you’d aid the humans, then go with them. Fight at their side. I will not stop you.”
“It is not that easy.”
“It never is, nor should it be.” Ceredon yanked his sword free. “We have lost much because of their hatred and fear.”
“Are we so free of it ourselves?” Dieredon asked. The words hung in the air amid a heavy silence.
“Give them food and blankets,” Ceredon said. “Travel with their king. As for our troops…”
The Neyvar sheathed his sword. “If war approaches then I will protect our home. Send word to Nellassar of what has happened. We must all prepare.”
The elderly elf turned and left. Alone, Dieredon cursed to the ceiling before storming after.
“W hat was that all about?” Harruq asked after they’d been relocated to their lodgings. They had been given three rooms, Deathmask by his lonesome, Antonil and Tarlak in a second, Harruq and Aurelia the third.
“It’s nothing,” Aurelia said, leaning her staff against the bed. “Just ancient history.”
“Doesn’t sound so ancient to me,” Harruq said. “Who were your parents? What did Ceredon mean by all of that?”
Aurelia sat on the bed, her face turned away from him. Her long hair masked her features, but Harruq could still see the faint edges of a frown on her delicate face.
“Is it really that important?” she asked.
Harruq winced, hurt by the tone. He started the lengthy process of undoing the buckles of his armor, pointedly putting his back to her.
“You hardly talk about your past,” he said. “Every time I bring it up, you brush me aside. You’re my wife, hon, and if you’re hurting because of it, I want to know. I want to help you…”
Soft hands grabbed his own, halting his harsh tugging at the leather straps. He felt Aurelia lean her head against his shoulder.
“I was still young, for an elf,” she said. “Everywhere we went, the fires followed. Forests, grasslands, even the deep caves filled with smoke and ash. King Baedan knew we would win a war of soldiers, but our homes…”
She wrapped her arms tight about him.
“I killed so many. They didn’t send soldiers, but farmers, hungry vagabonds, even criminals. They gave them torches and oil and let them burn. It had been a dry summer, Harruq. I’m not sure you’ve ever seen how fast a forest can burn, but I have. Breathtaking, and horrifying.”
Harruq turned around, his hands encircling her waist. She refused to meet his gaze, but that was fine with him. He could see the tears in her eyes, her haunted face a thousand memories away.
“At last we fled, thousands of us. Dezerea, our beloved home, was ash. And that was when King Baedan finally ordered in his troops. He didn’t want us gone, he wanted us dead, never to return. Hundreds of horseman crashed through our ranks. We’d kill them, but they’d be replaced by hundreds more. At last we made it to the
