But where would that get her? There would be more pain, more hurting, and heartache. Reyna wasn’t sure she could take any more. Alijah would reap what he had sown, but Faylen deserved no blame, for who could deny Queen Adilandra? She had been a demon on any battlefield and it was no surprise her last act aided the survival of thousands.
But, right now, in the most painful of moments, Reyna wasn’t sure she could have sacrificed her mother even for thousands of others.
“You did as she commanded,” Reyna stated, her tone even. “That was your duty.” Just saying the words helped her to get past the gnawing anger.
Faylen adjusted herself, taking on a more rigid form. “This isn’t how I wanted to do this. I never imagined I would have to,” she added sombrely. “Time and menace are against us, however, and it is still the future we must consider.”
Reyna relinquished some of her grip on the pain and rage that simmered beneath the surface, allowing her to find a tether with which to pull back her focus. “What are you talking about?” she asked gently.
“Elandril - all of Ayda - is absent its queen. That burden falls to you now, Reyna.”
In and of itself, Faylen’s decree was entirely logical and not at all a surprise. But Reyna was speechless. The obvious conclusion had escaped her and, even now, after it had been said aloud, the elven princess faltered to grasp its true meaning.
“You know our ways,” Faylen continued. “There need not be any ceremony, nor grand announcement, to bestow the title upon you. Our people will bow to you now, my Queen.”
Reyna swallowed in the absence of any real reply. She wasn’t meant to be queen - her mother was immortal! She had never had any qualms about being a princess for eternity, not when the alternative came with such tragic consequences.
“As you say,” she croaked, “time and menace are against us. We will discuss this later. Right now we have to coordinate The Rebellion’s efforts.”
“Reyna.” Faylen reached out, sensing her imminent departure.
“I have to go,” Reyna insisted.
She closed her eyes and opened them again to The Dragon Keep’s throne room. Vighon was standing beside Nathaniel at the head of the table, both deep in discussion. Noticing her return, Nathaniel looked upon her with sympathy and tears of his own, having heard the news of Adilandra from the king.
“My love…” he began, offering his hand.
Reyna didn’t move for a moment. The fact that she was seated on a throne was suddenly a distraction she had never anticipated. Something tickled both of her cheeks and she realised there were tears streaking down her face. After wiping them away, she stood up and accepted the comfort of her husband’s embrace. She felt Vighon’s hand rest on her back and she turned to see his dark eyes sharing her pain.
At last, Reyna detached herself from Nathaniel and stood back. “There are two things we must now accept so that we might take our next step with efficiency. Adilandra, my mother, is gone.” Saying the words placed a weight on her chest, giving her pause.
“And the other?” Vighon wondered.
Reyna looked up at her husband. “We are now the king and queen of the elves.”
7
A Royal Gathering
Descending beneath the clouds, The White Vale of Illian’s north dominated the horizon with a blanket of snow. Alijah sat up in his saddle, astride Malliath, and took it all in as his cloak and hair were swept out behind him. It was all so peaceful from their lofty vantage. It would have been easy to think that the realm enjoyed the same tranquility.
But it didn’t.
Unlike thousands of others who had worn the crown before him, Alijah was determined to keep his objectivity. No matter the vantage or luxury he enjoyed as king, he would never forget that there was a world beyond his view. A world of people.
Narrowing his eyes, he could just make out the faded line of The Vengoran Mountains. Tracking them west would take any traveller to Namdhor and The King’s Lake. Of course, Malliath did not require such landmarks to know where he was flying. His bones were almost as ancient as those mountains.
Banking slightly to the left, turning westward, the dragon’s wing twitched. Alijah patted his companion’s scales. They were both dealing with injuries but Malliath had shown unparalleled strength during their flight. And Alijah couldn’t say he hadn’t enjoyed the slower pace - the last two years had been relentless.
Are you ready to do what must be done? Malliath’s voice was the perfect pitch inside his mind, a soothing melody compared to the barraging winds.
With your power flowing through my veins, Alijah responded, I’m ready for everything.
Tell me, Malliath purred.
I will demand Vighon’s head. Any who defend him will share his fate.
You will see, Malliath told him, that the people love you. They will gladly give him up.
Alijah rubbed Malliath’s black scales. I don’t know if it will be their love for me or their fear of you.
A wave of satisfaction rolled off Malliath. Both will be needed to rule all of Verda.
Though Alijah agreed, it wasn’t the future he had always envisioned. There will be turmoil for some time, many years even. But, in generations to come, you will be loved not feared. Can you imagine that, old friend? There will be peace in every corner of the realm. Without magic there will be equality like never before and every man, woman, and child will look up at you with thanks. They will see you and know they are safe.
Malliath’s muscles rippled beneath Alijah, telling of his anticipation. Our forces have almost converged on The Moonlit Plains, the dragon explained, moving the subject away from his feelings. It will be well defended by day’s end.
Very good, Alijah noted, aware that Malliath’s mind was better suited to monitoring so many Reavers with little effort.
Malliath continued his flight in silence for another
