The morning air sank in and the cold of night slowly went away. Turion stood by the threshold of the cave watching the night turn into day. The sun’s rays began to spread across the sky, painting it a shade of magenta and light blue, the sand’s gray color turned golden, and light began to reach the mountainside. He watched the waves pull back and return, yet bringing nothing back with them. No one had asked him to guard the doors, but he had wanted to.
He turned to look back into the cave. Nimtar tended to her garden and all the life she had grown within it—many elf children helped and learned from her—the princes and princess sat with a group enjoying breakfast, but Thinidiel was nowhere in sight. Ever since the storm, they had barely spoken, not that they had a solid friendship before, but things were different. At times, he wished he had never followed that order.
“Good morning, Turion,” said Thinidiel who approached him from outside the cave.
“Good morning, my Lord,” replied Turion, slightly surprised he was outside.
Thinidiel reached the cave entry, but instead of going inside he stood next to Turion and also looked at the sea. “The day has just begun,” he said with slight reassurance.
“It has,” nodded Turion. He kept his eyes on the sea, but after a few seconds he stopped leaning on the wall and turned to the cave. “I should help preparing things.”
“Turion,” said the King before the young elf warrior could leave. “Thank you.”
Turion stopped in his tracks as he felt the King’s words. “There is nothing to thank, my Lord. I was only doing my duty.” He bowed quickly and entered the cave.
Lothar was among the first ready to part. He had not much to pack and he had also helped a few others do so. He knew that it was not safe to linger even though there had been no other attack since the last, but if his long years had taught him anything, it was that evil never rests, so neither could they. He looked towards the entry of the cave and found his king. He had seen him go out in the middle of the night and had not returned until now. Silme had been on his shoulder, yet he was not anymore. Perhaps that was the reason why they had not yet parted, thought Lothar. Unlike his elven companions, he had needed to sleep in the night, but only a little, being half-elven allowed him to need very little sleep to regain his strength.
He looked over at Bazur and Nurunn, they had also gotten up early and were helping the queen with the harvest of her magical plants. Lothar smiled as he saw them laugh and talk. They were lucky to have each other, he thought. Whether by fate or not, the three of them carried what was left of the dwarves of Eidelvar. Houses Torzak, Urzak, and Norozak running through their veins. Although, at times he did not know if to consider himself a dwarf or even an elf. It was not common in their lands for their races to mix, but after the war many things had changed and some for the better. His mother and father had met long before the war.
“Morning, blossom,” said Turion breaking Lothar’s thought as he passed by his side.
“Turion,” he replied with a sigh, shaking his head.
“Sleep well?” asked Turion as he also helped pack.
“Yes, thank you,” replied Lothar, expecting a joke or some sort of childish mockery.
“That is good,” said Turion without mocking him.
“And you?” Lothar found himself asking before he remembered that elves do not need to sleep.
Turion stopped packing and looked at Lothar, but instead of laughing at him he just smiled and shook his head as he walked away.
“My king,” said Lothar as he approached Thinidiel. “Our people are almost ready to part. Some are still harvesting the trees and packing, but we all have fed and rested. We are ready when you are.”
“Thank you, Lothar,” said the king turning to face him. “But I believe that we shall not be parting as soon as I expected—at least not all of us.”
Before Lothar could ask what he meant, Silme came into the cave and sat on Thinidiel’s shoulder. He seemed to be listening to Silme, though Lothar could not hear the bird’s voice. Nimtar looked over at Thinidiel and, once their eyes met, called her children to approach their father. Lothar stepped aside even though nobody asked him to, it seemed that the matter might be private, but the queen gave him a reassuring look that he was in nobody’s way. Valruin and Camlhach looked anxious, but controlled to hear their father’s news, the queen as calm as ever with Telwen at her side. King Thinidiel looked at his family and placed each one of his hands on his sons’ shoulders.
“Silme has found life,” said the king with a smile.
“Life?” asked Valruin, suspicious. “Father, what kind of life?”
“People,” said Thinidiel. “Humans living on top of this mountain.”
They looked at each other with surprise, but Telwen seemed most shocked by the news. There were humans left in the world and she was no longer the only one. It had been the loneliest of ideas. She did not want to be the last of anything. Telwen smiled a little, but not too brightly, for she still did not feel fully recovered from the voyage and nightmares had not allowed her to sleep well at all.
“You mean,” began Telwen a little higher than a whisper. “That I am not the only human left?” The news seemed far too great to be real.
“Aye, Princess,” said Camlhach beaming at Telwen. “You are not the only human left.”
Telwen smiled and could not help to embrace her father and bury her face in his stomach. Thinidiel smiled as he stroked her head lovingly. “Thank you, Father,” she said, “and thank you, Silme.” The silver bird bowed its head ceremoniously and sang a sweet and short tune for her.
King Thinidiel took his wife’s hand and Telwen’s as he walked further into the cave for everyone to see. “My fellow Erathiel and dwarf friends,” he began. “I went out to scout the land with Silme early this morning. Sadly, we saw no sign of the Princess’ ship but that does not mean we will cease to hope and search.”
“Nevertheless,” he continued. “Though my eyes can see far there are places I cannot see and with that Silme has been a most gracious ally. He has found something that seems almost impossible: life on top of this mountain, human life.” The elves and the dwarves awed at the news.
“The mountain’s magic seems to be aiding not only our cause, but the existence of an entire civilization up high. If we are to obtain answers and calm the questions in our hearts, we must speak with them. Only some will ascend to meet the mountain dwellers, for now, the rest should stay here while it is safe. Keep watch and only unpack what is necessary. I will send word with Silme when we arrive and have met their leaders. I depart now,” said the Elf King.
Valruin rushed to his father’s side anxiously, hoping that he would join the expedition to the top of the mountain. Camlhach joined him, but walked calmly, almost as if he did not want to be called upon.
“Camlhach, Lothar, and Turion, I will need you to accompany me,” said the king. “Valruin, you are to stay behind with our people and the queen; assist in all that you can. We must go now.”
It was as if a lightning bolt had struck him. Valruin could not believe his father’s rejection. His brother and friends would see the unknown civilization, perhaps he would too if all went well, but he had not been chosen among the first. He approached his father once Camlhach and the others had gone to prepare and spoke in confidence.
“Father,” said Valruin. “I understand that I must stay behind and help look after the others, but I truly wish to go. I need to go.”
Valruin spoke with frustration in his heart, not trying to sound too eager like a child begging for a sweet, but more like an adult that feels a true obligation to their beliefs. Thinidiel noticing his son’s uneasiness put his hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes. They were so much like his own and he knew the passion that was inside, for he too had had it at his age.
“Your mother is very powerful, my son,” said Thinidiel. “But if anything should happen to your brother and I, you must be ready to face the storm. She will need you and our people will need you as well.”
“Is this because of what I did?” began Valruin with guilt in his voice. “Is this punishment because I killed him?”
Thinidiel’s face turned serious. “What you did can never be undone and though we have killed and fought in the past, we are here to start a new way of life. No bloodshed is what we swore, unless there is no choice.”
“He threatened Mother and Telwen,” interrupted Valruin heatedly. “I saw it in his eyes.”
“I know you did not mean any harm,” continued Thinidiel calmly but firmly. “But you must learn to obey.”
“Cam obeys,” replied Valruin under his breath with slight bitterness.
Thinidiel looked over at Camlhach before returning to Valruin.
“You are the youngest of my blood, Valruin, capable of leading an army, but you must learn that there is a time and place for everything and everyone, and right now it is your brother’s turn,” said the king looking for understanding in his son’s eyes. “Fate calls out to us all and when it is your time, you will answer.”
Valruin nodded and bowed, but it did not ease the hunger in his heart as he walked away.
Prince Camlhach approached the elflings. “Listen up, young Erathiel!” said Camlhach, almost addressing them as soldiers, but not in an entirely serious manner. “I have instructions for you to follow in my absence and the prince, princess and queen shall oversee that you follow them.”
A young Erathiel boy gulped loudly at the prince’s words, making Camlhach smile for second, but he soon returned to his serious role. “First, you must always remember to be careful and aware of your surroundings, you never know who can be hiding nearby. Second, always obey your elders no matter their instructions and lastly, never attempt to leave the cave or go exploring on your own.”
The elflings agreed but Enora, who was not really an elfling but had been playing with them, rolled her eyes at the prince and replied rather annoyed. “Aye, aye, we know,” she said finally meeting his eyes and not flinching for a second.
“Enora!” said her mother who stood nearby and had seen it all, rushing to her daughter’s side apologetically. “You must not treat the prince in that manner. Apologize.”
“Apologize?” said Enora with surprise, almost unaware of how rude she had been. “I have not insulted the prince and I am sure that if I had, he would have said so. What is more, I know exactly how to take care of myself; I have been doing it quite well for many years now, thank you.”
“Enora,” implored her mother softly. “The prince means no harm nor has he said that you are unable to take care of yourself. Apologize.”
Young Enora looked at her mother and then to the prince, his golden eyes fell upon hers with such kindness that it filled her with regret. Ever since the tragedy in the voyage, she had been feeling a bit on edge. There were faces that she remembered and wished she could see. She was glad, however, that her father had not been taken at sea, but in battle. Even though she did not look at the others’ death as shameful, she preferred to remember her father fighting till his last breath.
“Forgive me, Prince Camlhach, for my rude behavior,” said Enora without a drop of defiance, calming down. “I promise to never repeat such rudeness again.”
“It is fine, Enora. All is forgiven,” said the prince with a patient smile, understanding the change she had already begun. “Now, on your feet!” he said turning to the elflings. “We have a long way to go and before you know it, we shall be back from the mountain high and ready to part—so be sure to have everything packed and ready for our return. Be good in our absence, little ones.” The young elves rose to their feet and began to help with preparations, for they too believed that their prince would be triumphant and back soon from what seemed to them a most admirable quest.
Enora’s mother approached the prince with humble posture. She had the same golden hair as her daughter, but her eyes were a deep brown, whereas Enora’s were as blue as the sky, like her father’s. The loss of her husband had left her with great pain and she had been close to dying, but it was her daughter’s life that had helped her escape an almost inevitable death. Enora, too, had suffered and she feared that it had been the loss of her father that had awoken such a defying attitude in her.
“My deepest apologies, Prince Camlhach,” she began. “My poor Enora, I fear, at times has a fire that burns too bright. I will speak with her, prince.”
He calmed and thanked her for her words. “It is all well, Moiren. A fire that burns too bright can too have a promising future if given purpose and direction. Enora has a good heart and she is still very young,” he replied. “She reminds me of somebody who was much like her at her age,” he spoke a bit louder than a whisper.
Moiren replied as she bowed. “Aye, and may her light return to us again.”
Queen Nimtar stood outside looking at the mountain, focusing on finding the perfect spot. She pointed her staff at the mountain and drew magic from it—so as not to wear her own down—and carved from a distance, on the mountain wall, a staircase that grew till it got lost in the clouds. A stair would lighten their journey tremendously, should they proceed after a victorious meeting with those that dwelled above.
“A thousand steps up,” said Lothar under his breath, looking up. “Could not she have made wings grow out of our backs?”
“Worry not,” said Turion with a smirk. “If needed, I shall carry you.”
Lothar looked at Turion with a serious face while the latter beamed back at him with a mischievous smile.
“Never in a thousand years would I allow anyone to carry me,” said Lothar firmly.
Turion laughed and shook his head, his golden hair slightly covering half of his face for but only a second. “There may come a day when you might need to be carried, old friend.”
Lothar did not reply, he simply looked afar and up towards the clouds where the mountains pierced their cottony skin. He did not like to think about such a day coming to pass. He had lived for many years, seen many things, and even though he fought fearlessly in battle he was not ready to welcome death just yet. Being the only one of his kind, he did not know what his lifespan would be. But death would have to wait.
They said their goodbyes, but these were brief, for few were the ones that ventured to the mountain top and soon would they return with news of peace—or so they hoped. Camlhach looked at his brother and embraced him.
“Look after Tinwe while I’m gone. I know it might not be long, but you know how she is,” said Camlhach. They both looked at the mare, who was at their side, trying to share her concern by rubbing her nose on her master’s shoulder every once in awhile.
“I will, brother,” replied Valruin.
“I know you wanted to come,” started Camlhach with a worried tone. “I wanted you to as well.”
“Father says my place is here,” said Valruin with slight bitterness. “I must obey.”
Camlhach smiled at him and patted his shoulder. “We will be back soon, I promise,” he said as he turned away and joined the company.
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