Gwenyfer looked both intrigued and excited. “A gift from a ranger?” she said with anticipation.
From his belt, Asher produced a finely curved dagger just a little longer than his hand. “The blade is Basilisk bone,” he explained. “It’s easily concealed and light to carry, yet the bone is strong.”
Gwenyfer happily accepted the gift, displaying it for Athis in both hands. “A rare blade,” she uttered in wonder. “Thank you, Asher.”
Inara came up behind them. “Are you giving my children weapons again, Asher?”
“Your Grace,” the ranger greeted, extending his bow for Vighon. “Forgive my intrusion. I couldn’t let Queen Gwenyfer leave for the west without a small token.”
Athis looked from Gwenyfer’s dagger to the ranger. “How do I get one of those?”
“Perhaps you should accompany us on our next—”
“No,” Vighon and Inara said in unison.
Inara cleared her throat. “The sword techniques you’ve already taught them are… quite enough.”
Asher flashed the young queen and prince a coy grin. He had, indeed, taught them a few strategies and techniques over the last few years that some - the Guardians of the Realm - would consider dishonourable. Everyone’s attention shifted again when Avandriell turned her head to the sky and leapt into flight. By the time she had cleared the platform, the children had been distracted by something else and the party had resumed. Asher took the opportunity to properly greet the king and queen with a tight embrace.
“I knew you wouldn’t miss saying farewell,” Vighon said with a pat on Asher’s arm. “And you are most welcome, as always. The drinks are on us.” Before the king could say another word, a servant whispered in his ear, drawing his attention to a lord and lady in the far corner. “Ah. If you’ll excuse me, Asher. Enjoy yourself!”
Asher turned to Inara who was still watching Avandriell ascend into the empty ocean above. “I would ask if you miss it, but that seems like a—”
“Every day,” Inara replied, her eyes never leaving the sky. “I miss it every day.” The queen took a breath and tore her gaze away until it was filled by the ranger. “Come,” she bade with a genuine smile. “Have a drink with us. I’ve never tired of your stories.”
Asher was happily led by the arm into a group of familiar faces. Warm greetings were made by all, including Doran who nearly tackled the ranger to the ground. Vighon soon returned from his kingly duties and gave Asher a tankard of Namdhor’s finest beer. All the while, he could feel Avandriell flying side by side with Ilargo, the two exchanging stories of their own.
And, try as others did, none were able to separate the group over the day. They remained by the fire, drinking, eating, and laughing, blissfully unaware of the hours slipping by. Adilandra came and went, pausing only once to have a short sleep on Asher’s lap. Queen Gwenyfer knelt down between Inara and Vighon with her drink and listened to their stories, tales from decades past. Athis was never far from Asher’s side, hanging on his every word.
Every time he saw this particular group, especially the children, Asher was reminded why they had all fought so hard and for so long. The future they had forged was bright and Athis, Gwenyfer, and Adilandra were going to inherit that well-won peace. And who knew what they would do with the world? The ranger was just glad he would be around to find out.
“Your Grace!” came an urgent call, turning every head to the Namdhorian soldier rushing towards them.
Vighon sat forward and put his tankard down. “Captain Hawkins.”
“Your Grace,” the captain said again as he arrived by the fire. “Orcs!” he declared.
“Orcs?” Doran spat, his hand naturally falling onto Andaljor beside him. “Point me in the direction, lad!”
Vighon stood up and held out a hand to calm the moment. “Orcs, Captain Hawkins?”
“They’ve attacked from the mountains, your Grace,” he reported. “They have set upon the barracks, to the north.”
“In daylight?” Reyna questioned.
“It must be the Sons of Karakulak,” Inara reasoned. “They have grown ever bolder over the last few years. They do not fear the sun.”
Vighon gripped the sword of the north on his hip. “Ready my horse,” he commanded.
As the remaining heroes of old stood up, ready to put themselves on that fateful line between the light and the dark, Asher had already slipped away and stridden most of the way back to the dragon platform. “Please, your Graces!” he called, halting their action. “Today is for Queen Gwenyfer. I would not have her day spoiled.” The ranger gestured to the open air behind him. “Ava and I will take care of the orcs.”
Without waiting for a word of reply, Asher leapt from the edge of the platform and plummeted down towards The King’s Lake. Ice or no ice, the lake would kill any who fell from such a height. But Avandriell had no intention of letting her companion meet his gruesome end. The bronze dragon dived down until their bodies were perfectly aligned. With Asher secured in his saddle, Avandriell waited until the last second before fanning her wings and gliding over the surface of the water. So close was she that it rippled beneath her.
Without losing speed, the dragon climbed into the sky, giving them both a good view of the distant barracks, built into the base of The Vengoran Mountains. Avandriell’s sharp eyes informed the ranger that orcs were scaling the walls astride their terrible six-legged Garks.
Asher hunkered down into his saddle, his eyes fixed on their prey and a hungry smile on his face. “Let’s hunt some monsters.”
The End.
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Author Notes
1st April 2021
So much emotion right now. I can’t really believe I’m here, writing this.
It’s taken 6 years, 9 books, and 1.6 million words but I finally did it - I told the story burning a hole in my head and finished my very first fantasy series.
I
