[Athlan na Dyr]

Hello people!

This is the sequel to my first book. If you haven't read The Assassin's Blade yet then please do, otherwise this will make absolutely no sense at all.
Without further ado, let the pain, misery and violence begin!

Chapter 1: Hjarta.

The note rustled as the wind caught at it with hungry fingers. A single tear was caught by it as well. Arya’s hair was tossed lightly by the wind, the sun causing it to shine brightly. A cheerful call came from behind her. She did not turn. She merely tightened her grip on the note as she re-read the final words her mother left for her. Her knuckles turned white as the words flowed through her.
Be safe my daughter, and find it within yourself to be happy again, for my sake, if not your own. Do not look for me, nor await my return.
Your loving mother,

Islanzadi.

Eragon’s hand light touched her on the shoulder. His smiling face peered over it before falling immediately as he saw the tears that rolled freely. He glanced at the elegant lines of the Liduen Kvaedhi for a moment, before extending a comforting arm around her. She flung herself into his arms, her grief and sadness causing sobs to shake through her. Eragon, though highly embarrassed, was also slightly pleased. But he did not press any thought of a relationship, knowing that Arya’s mind was more fragile now then any other time he had known her. Eventually the sobs died down, and Arya extracted herself from Eragon’s chest. She looked up at him, her eyes showing endless amounts of grief and pain “Alath took her.”
Shock rushed through Eragon; the Alalean had always seemed loyal to the Elves and affectionate towards Arya. Nervousness followed a moment later; he wasn’t sure that he could beat Alath. “We have to call a council and go after her as soon as we can. I’ll get Roran and Orik, you get the elves.” As Eragon turned, slender fingers wrapped tightly around his wrist. He stopped and looked expectantly at Arya.
“No.” She replied. "This is an elven matter. My people will deal with it.” With that she left him. Arya moved towards the tents of her people. Stopping before one she poked her head in. “Lord Dathedr? We need to call all the heads of the Houses to a meeting.”
A formal acknowledgement followed as Arya moved back towards Islanzadi’s tent, her thoughts brimming with grief and fear.

------------

The black dragon looked on as the peoples of the elves, dwarves, Urgals and humans awoke from their slumber. Sighing sadly, Shruikan moved out from Uru Baen. His wing ligaments were still not attached properly, so he used his legs instead. The crushing loneliness filled him again as he tried to ask Galbatorix to heal him. The death of the mad-two-leg-master-Galbatorix had made many happy, but had left Shruikan with no-one in the world. Even a cruel master is better then this loneliness he thought unhappily.

A shadow passed over him. Great wing beats filled the air as the sexy-blue-dragoness-Saphira landed in front of Shruikan. He vainly tried to hide his weakness by flapping his wings, but only succeeded in causing more pain to shoot through his left side. A questioning thought arose from Saphira. The tendons in my left wing are no longer bonded to my bones Shruikan thought back
So why not get an elf to heal you? she asked
They would not help me. Shruikan replied. He lowered his head in shame of what he had done.
They know Galbatorix forced you to kill and obey his will. Saphira comforted
Shruikan wavered for a moment more, his thoughts and feelings conflicting with one another. Eventually Saphira lowered her jaw to playfully tug on his right leg. A thrill shot through Shruikan as she continued Besides, you are the last of my race. Who else is going to fly with me?

A gleaming smile leapt to Shruikan’s face as joy swept through him. The unfamiliar emotion took a moment to register before it broke forth in a mighty roar. Channelling it into his legs, he bounded eagerly back towards the camp, Saphira flying overhead.

---------------

The elven lords and ladies gazed expectantly at Arya. Many cast looks of apprehension and concern between themselves when they saw her and not Islanzadi sitting in the elegantly carved throne. After greeting them all, Arya lay her mother’s farewell note on the table they were seated around. Gasps of shock and dismay leapt from the assembled, before a wizened voice sounded. “So what are we supposed to do? We don’t even know who took her.”
Arya looked at Rhunon for a moment before replying. “I do. It was the Alalean.” She struggled to keep the pain and hurt out of her voice. She succeeded. Barely.
More gasps of shock sounded from the nobles before Lord Dathedr stood up. Arya glanced at him before he spoke in an outraged tone “This is unacceptable! To abuse the trust we have placed in him is an act worthy of only scum and the damned! We must pursue him!”
The outburst seemed to let loose similar cries of outrage and zealous feelings of bringing justice to the Alalean. Though it heartened her, Arya knew such things had to be guided to be effective.

“SILENCE!” she yelled. It followed a moment later, many nobles pausing in mid speech before reseating themselves. “Thank you all for your response, but we do not need words. We need action. We need to set out for Alalea.”
Silence followed Arya’s declaration as the nobles looked to each other. Finally one spoke up “Does anyone know where it is?” His nervous tone implied his view on such a voyage.
The wizened voice rang forth once more “Of course. I was born there.” All heads turned to Rhunon as she lent forward, a dangerous smile on her weathered lips “I even have a map.”

--------------

Alath glanced as the surrounding countryside flew underneath his dragon’s wings. His dragon, Onyx, glided gently to conserve energy. It was a long way to Alalea. Islanzadi stirred gently as she brought herself out of her waking dreams. The sun was just beginning to rise over the horizon when she saw Teirm. “So the rumours were true.” She spoke softly.
“What rumours?” Alath replied, happy to have something other then Onyx’s mothering and endless questions to answer.
“That when my people first came to Alagaesia, we landed where the city of Teirm stands today.”
“Then I suggest you savour the sight. It may be the last you see of these shores.” Alath counselled, slightly uncomfortable with having to tear her away from her home. He shoved the thought aside. That’s what got me into this mess in the first place.
Islanzadi retreated back into silence as the land finally ended, and the bright, sparkling blue vista of the sea began.


YOUR COMMENTS! I want them.

This post has been edited by Athlan na Dyr: 07 November 2009 - 05:47 PM

[Thunder Gulch]

First of all LOL at the title.

And this is another great start to the book. Loved the emotions and descriptions were nice, but you didn't seem to let Arya deal with her mother being gone. You kindA rushed through that part. And always good to see Eragon and Arya development.

PS: Is this a new book? Is this Exa and more importantly, Are still going to kill of Eragon?

And yay 1st post

-OTF

[giorgia]

Oh?!So this is a sequel!!lol
Anyway,nice start.And Alath is a rider?..How come?

Well,Guess I'll find out on the next chappy.
Great job!!

[soldierofwill]

Hello! I am so sorry! I never commented on your old story...though I don't know why...

The title made me chuckle while this:

sexy-blue-dragoness-Saphira

Made me burst into laughter.
Keep it up!
Your reader soldierofwill. Bye

[Athlan na Dyr]

yay chapter 2!

Thank you all for the lovely comments!

Chapter 2: The Path to Ruin.

Arya’s eyes scanned the map restlessly. The other nobles had departed to make preparations and announce the grave news to her people. Rhunon stayed close at hand while Lord Dathedr began to walk in circles around the table, his gaze pensive and thoughtful.

The map depicted Alagaesia as a rough outline. Only the western edge had been mapped. From there, an expanse of blue sea surrounded several small islands. They seemed to curve in a fractured, yet stable, path to a large, circular landmass to the south.
“That’s Alalea.” Rhunon had remarked, while pointing at the circular landmass with a gnarled finger. The elven smith had been remarkably calm throughout the proceeding. Arya had been wrestling with her own emotions throughout the proceedings. The departure of her mother was still sinking in, it’s tendrils burrowing through her sanity. The map blurred as another tear formed in her eye. She blinked it back, determined not to let her sadness show. Damn, but it’s so far away... Arya thought. The trip would take weeks by ship. Even with a dragon, it was no small distance. Forcing herself to concentrate on the map, she looked at the various islands. None had been named, though a tower was depicted on the nearest one. An artist had colourfully illustrated sections of the map with waves and pictures of mythical beasts of legend.

“It will take a while to build the boats necessary for our army.”
Arya turned to Lord Dathedr, for it was he who had spoken. “I don’t plan on taking an army, only a small group.” she replied. The plan had formulated itself during the proceedings, though she knew not its chances of success.
Lord Dathedr frowned “You plan on taking a small group? You are our princess and current leader! You must stay here unless an army of sufficient size accompanies you.”
Arya stared at him with a raised eyebrow “You always supported my decisions to serve our people in whatever way I felt best. It earned you my mother’s ire, but also allowed me to take the Yawe in the first place. However, now I must save my mother, regardless of the risk. I do not wish to involve our people in my own personal battles.”
Lord Dathedr looked Arya straight in the eyes before replying “Then allow me to be the first to volunteer to serve you on your mission, Arya Drottningu.”
Arya smiled at Dathedr’s endearing loyalty, but she shook her head slowly “No, honoured Dathedr. I wish you to rule our people in my stead, until I return with my mother.”
“With, or without.” Lord Dathedr corrected after a moment, before bending at the waist in a deep bow. When he rose his gaze was solemn and he continued “I will accept this honour, and attempt to hold the knotted throne as well as you yourself would have.”
He departed, leaving Arya to ponder over who would accompany her.

-------------

Onyx descended over the ocean to a small island. Islanzadi looked expectantly, but soon saw that it too was little more then a volcanic landmass that had risen out of the depths. Golden sand glimmered on the shore as the black dragon landed softly, his golden claws sinking into the beach. Tall palm trees rose in a line a few metres away. Islanzadi looked quizzically at Alath “Why are we stopping? There is still a few hours of sunlight left.”
He replied without looking at her, focussing on removing the saddle from Onyx’s back “Because the next island is more than a few hours away and I don’t want to try landing on a tiny island in the dark. Besides, I wanted to get out of the saddle for a little while longer.”
Islanzadi nodded; it made sense. She jumped off Onyx as Alath freed the saddle from around the dragon’s chest.

Flying on Onyx had allowed Islanzadi to notice a few differences between him and Saphira, such as how Onyx was far more muscular and that he flew with his belly pointing in the direction he was moving. She turned and looked at the strange pair before gathering wood for a fire.

That evening they sat around the flames; a dragon was a very useful travelling partner. After a few minutes, Islanzadi began to speak “So why didn’t you say you were a Rider?”
Onyx replied with his mind If you are referring to him as a Rider, then I assume that would leave me to be the steed? His mind flowed with anger at the insult So let me ask you this, elf-Islanzadi; What part of me looks like I need a Rider? A roar punctuated the last statement.
Alath put a hand on Onyx to clam him before explaining “In her country they have people who have magically bonded with dragons and in turn received certain powers. She assumed that we have the same bond.”
“You don’t?” Islanzadi interjected, her confusion growing.
No. Onyx replied. His previous anger had abated, but bloodlust still flowed through his thoughts. We have a bond of friendship. For me, and Alath, that is enough.
“So, how did you two meet?” Islanzadi asked, eager to keep the conversation going as well as genuinely curious.
A shadow crept over Alath’s face “I saved his life.”

---flashback---

The sun was creeping over the rolling green hills of Alalea as Alath was walking slowly over the countryside. He was much younger, the glow of youth still surrounding him. If only every day could be so peaceful he thought, as the first golden rays of dawn illuminated him. He walked peacefully, glad to be out of the temple’s strenuous training regime. His peace was shattered when a pained roar broke through the tranquil dawn.

Alath rushed to the sound, feeling apprehension and worry as flame gushed through the air. Shouts of elves could be heard. Even at this distance, the dialect and curses made the identity of the elves unmistakeable; Archanii. Yanking his paired swords out of their oiled sheaths, Alath continued his rush to the hill from which the sounds came from. Sprinting up the steep side, he beheld a scene that would haunt him forever.

Seven Archanii surrounded a bound and netted dragon. She struggled viciously, put could no break free. Bodies and clumps of gore littered the ground in testament to her efforts. A silver haired male elf smashed the flat of his blade into her face before calling for another elf. The elf appeared quickly from inside a cave in the hillside, grasping black shards and a small, black dragon. The mother dragon struggled harder when she saw her baby. Her tail flicked through the air in rage as she struggled to move. But nothing could help her. Her kind were not as magical as their sister race in Alagaesia. Another grinning Archanii leapt on her helpless body, his sword poised to strike. Alath sprung into motion, freeing himself from the horror that had hampered his movement. Bellowing as fierce war cry, he stabbed through the back of the nearest Archanii raider. The others turned before drawing their own blades and rushing towards him. All but the one on top of the mother dragon, who stabbed downwards. His blade pierced the soft underscales of her belly before tearing through her chest and into her heart. A pained groan escaped her lips as her life left her in a torrent of dark red blood.

The last pained groan tore at Alath’s heart as he knew that he was too late. As the Archanii approached, he faced them with swords bared. All fear was gone as hate surged through Alath. The raiders had one glance as the gold left his eyes before they exploded in a spray of blood and viscera.

Sheathing his swords, Alath looked at his shivering hands. I never did that before! He thought in wonder I must have the black rage! A feeling of pride took him before a sharp squeak reminded him of the baby dragon. Racing over to the sound, Alath cradled the baby in his arms. It gave a softer squeak before snuggling against his chest. Weariness flowed through Alath as the gold returned to his eyes. Glancing over to the mother, he saw her eyes behold their final sight, before a contented sigh left her and she faded into oblivion.

---end flashback---


And in answer to OTF hidden question This is a continuation of my other book. It may or may not be ExA and he probably WILL die - later. Much, much later.

Glad to have you all posting and I'm very happy that people are reading my story. I'll keep posting if you do.

Your country needs you!
but I want your comments.

This post has been edited by Athlan na Dyr: 12 October 2009 - 06:29 PM

[soldierofwill]

Alright! That was nice. I liked your description of Alath as he was younger. It fitted how CP wanted to make Elven children like, you know, "glowing with youth" and all that good stuff.

The thing is, if you kill Eragon. What about his profecies(sp?)? He can't do one thing without the next. If he dies no and I quote "Epic romance of royalty" or some such like that.

Other than that, I can't wait for more!
Keep it up!
Your reader soldierofwill. Bye

This post has been edited by soldierofwill: 12 October 2009 - 06:36 PM

[onyxion]

The dragons name is Onyx!???!?!?!?!

aww, AnD, you shouldn't have .

Loving the continuation. The Assassin's blade started off slow, but you seem to be building up for a epic adventure in the high seas. Can't wait .

May your fingers fly across the keyboard as Saphira flies (cough *mate* cough) with Shruikan.

Go the horny beast he is

But damn those Archanii grrr.....

Good name, and nice Avi.

This post has been edited by onyxion: 12 October 2009 - 06:37 PM

[Athlan na Dyr]

Wow, that was quick.

Okay, first of all
In response to the reply of the hidden question HE MAY DIE - near the end. Right near the end. As in final couple of chapters, end.

I was considering a baby Alath, but that would have seemed slightly inappropriate... (Baby vs. 7 grown elves; baby wins?)

And Onyx is a reference to this kick ass demon host. (he wears black armour, has silver light coming out of his eyes and mouth and likes to rip out peoples spines...) Sorry Onyxion...

Shruikan is blessed with game...

[soldierofwill]

Uh-hu

I think I see your point. But how fun is that? Him dying at the end. If you do kill him, kinda hoping not, anyway, it should not be so close to the end. Mayne about 3 quarters of the way through, then you can have Saphira/Arya/Whomever go on a rampage and some insane thing.

[Athlan na Dyr]

Good to know. And your concern is admittedly valid...I may reconsider...

True. I may just torture him for a few before killing him off and getting Arya pregnant... (stopping Spoilers in 3...2...1)

...

[soldierofwill]

*looks at last few words of spoiler horrifically*

I have no words of how weird that would play out...in a cell...being tortured...shit

[Burrosis]

If you do kill Eragon you will break the prophecy of his extremely long life span. The fact that he will have a romance with royalty is up in the air. Angela said that the 'love' of royalty could be one sided or returned.

Anyways I like how your getting Arya pissed at the world again, but I am surprised that she didn't think of Eragon and Saphira coming with her first thing.

[Athlan na Dyr]

Woo, chapter 3! that's two in one day...

Chapter 3: The longest journey begins with…

The nobles were once more seated as Arya laid out the foundations of her plan. When she finished a few nobles stood up to speak. The first, a rich and very annoying Lord by the name of Vanshayar, asked “And who is to be on the knotted throne instead? Your third cousin thrice removed? She is hardly suitable.”
Arya faintly remembered her closest relation. At the Agaeti Blodhren she had performed a passable piece, but the lines:

Away, away you shall fly,
And never return to me.

Were hardly subtle indicators of where her affections lay. It is fortunate that Eragon was extremely distracted, though I am surprised Saphira didn’t pick up on it. Arya thought quietly. Lord Vanshayar resumed speaking “So I suggest we vote for a suitable replacement from the assembled.” His speech was smooth and unassuming, but it was clear who he wanted on the throne; himself.
Arya’s eyes narrowed at him with distaste; he reminded her of Umerth from the Varden’s Council of Elders. “I have already chosen a suitable steward to retain my or my mother’s place.”
Lord Vanshayar quickly hid his look of anger before asking “Who?” in his most pleasant voice.
“Lord Dathedr.” Arya answered, allowing herself a moment of smug satisfaction for disappointing Lord Vanshayar. “Now, can we discuss the more important issue of the voyage?”

-----------

The human council looked at each other with the predatory gaze of hungry wolves from different packs. Roran, seated between the three sides, feverantly wished another person of higher rank then himself and Jormundur had survived the carnage of the final battle.
The knights and nobles of Surda had been arguing with the Council of Elders and other important members of the Varden for hours. It had only gotten worse when the Wandering Tribes entered. Furious at being left out of the proceedings, Fadawar and his fellow warlords had argued with any and everyone. Roran buried his head in his hands as he listened to the next point for ‘discussion’.

“We should have an elected council,” Jormundur was beginning, with nods of support from the rest of the Council
“Under a king.” A sharp faced noble from Orrin’s court broke in “That is how both of our people ruled, and such a system is very successful. Therefore we should continue it.” Shouts of support came from the Surdans.
“Under a king.” Jormundur agreed before the other councillors could overrule him. At least he’s trying to come to a solution. Roran thought irritably. He wanted to be with Katrina rather then stuck in this pointless debate. He returned his attention to the debate as Jormundur continued “But that king should be elected by popular vote after the old one dies.”
Shouts came from both the Surdans and the Tribes “Unulukuna decreed that men should live under hereditary kings when we were created, and that is how it shall continue.” Fadawar shouted over the din, his thick accent immediately recognisable.
“Here, here!” Several Surdan nobles agreed “The Broddring Kingdom was run under hereditary rule and we shall see it restored!”
An argument broke out as the Varden responded angrily. The Surdans and Tribesmen retaliated and Falberd, heaving his great bulk forward, began to try and shout them down. This failed, however, when Fadawar punched him in the nose for implicating that Unulukuna didn’t exist. Tensions were coming to ahead and knives were being drawn when Roran smashed his hammer down into the table and yelled “SHUT THE HELL UP!”

An awkward silence fell upon the room. Even Falberd quietly returned to his feet and looked at Roran. “What we need to do is decide how we are going to run this country and it’s people. Not debate whether one system is better than another for historical or religious reasons. We need to do what is best for the people as a whole!”
The various sides looked to one another. Jormundur cleared his throat, breaking the silence before speaking “I vote for King Roran Stringhammer.”
Another voice echoed the sentiment. Then another. And another. Until a mighty roar of agreement went up from the assembled.
Oh bugger. Roran thought What have I got myself into now?

--------------

The elven nobles looked to each other. “The problem with sending a small force is that we might not be able to defeat the guards. If they are of Alath’s quality…” Vanshayar trailed off, clearly doubting the feasibility of Arya’s plan.
“That is why we don’t fight them, we avoid them and infiltrate past them. That is also why I am insisting on sending only a small group.”
Nods of agreement went up from the assembled. The nervous one, Flayhgram, asked “And if we can’t avoid them, what then?”
“Magic was Alath’s weakness. I assume it would be the same for the rest. As we are all proficient in gramarye, we should be able to deal with them.” Arya answered, glad that being able to perform magic was a requirement to become a leader of the thirteen Houses.
“Very well.” Lord Suheir declared “Then we shall move to Teirm under the pretence to take the city. There we shall decide who is, and who is not, to accompany Arya Drottningu.”
With that the meeting was concluded. The nobles stepped outside and sang out orders to their warriors to begin moving. Arya watched them go, pleased that her orders were being followed. She gazed at the setting sun before slipping off to Eragon’s tent. She had a question that needed answering.

--------------

As she approached Eragon's tent, Saphira landed. Her expression was joyous as she turned and bugled loudly to the shadow that followed her. Shruikan swept low, his wings held out wide. He back-flipped and dropped lightly to the ground beside Saphira. Arya moved past quickly as Shruikan began to put his neck lovingly over Saphira’s.

-------------

As Arya entered the tent, she noticed that Eragon had his head in his hands. When she knocked on the wooden tent post, he quickly looked up. His face quickly broke into a smile, but not quickly enough to hide the apprehension and worry it contained. “What’s wrong?” Arya asked, genuinely concerned as well as worried about the one man she was placing her hopes in.
“My cousin has just been elected as King of the new human Empire.” Eragon replied in a dead tone.
Arya knew that Eragon was worried about more assassination attempts. “Don’t worry. When they caught the other traitor Nighthawk he confirmed that he was the last.”
Eragon looked at her seriously before indicating to the body in the far corner of his tent. “If Murtagh hadn’t said something, I’d be dead.”
Arya’s gaze flicked to the red stone that held Eragon’s half brother before commenting “It’s a shame that the oaths the Nighthawks swore said to serve Nasuada only as well as they were able to.”
“It’s a shame Galbatorix exploited the opening!” Eragon stood up as he exploded, the tension of the last few days and Galbatorix’s words breaking forth in a torrent of fury before he contained himself. Unlike Arya, those demons still remained his biggest concern.
After waiting a moment for him to calm down, Arya resumed speaking “I leave to go after my mother in a few days.”
“Good luck.” Eragon replied, his expression sincere as he resumed sitting on the edge of his bed.
“I was hoping you would come with me.” Arya continued. Her tone was even, but inside she was desperate for his help.
An awkward silence filled the air before Eragon’s tortured reply came; “No.”



To all those who are wondering, I do have an answer to the prophesies (This has been going on in the various spoiler Q and A's) but I'm keeping it to myself.

And soldierofwill, I was actually joking about the last part. But know I'm not so sure...

Keep the comments coming!

This post has been edited by Athlan na Dyr: 13 October 2009 - 01:07 AM

[onyxion]

And Onyx is a reference to this kick ass demon host. (he wears black armour, has silver light coming out of his eyes and mouth and likes to rip out peoples spines...) Sorry Onyxion...

From Dead Sky, Black Sun? (Serves with Warlord Honsou of the Iron Warriors???)

I named myself after him

So the random elf with the cherry lips... Next in line for the throne? (Well, it does deal with the prophesies, but I hope you have something a little better)

Comparisons between Human and elven politics:
Elves: lets talk about this...
Humans: SHUT THE HELL UP!!!!!


King Roran? (You did say you would use Nasuada's death for something...)
Eragon attacked by more assassins? (That would have been good to see...)
Why did he say noes?

Falberd got floored by Fadawar =
suck it, fatty...

ARYA PREGNANT! OMG! OMG! OMG! Alath / Eragon will be jealous..(interchange between the one that does get her laid...)
Is nice

and stuff...

[Athlan na Dyr]

Hi again
I know it's been a while, but family birthdays, dying labtops and T-39 Bogatyrs can so that to me...

Chapter 4: The Shame of the past

“Why?” came Arya’s reply. She was desperate to have him on the voyage, and was losing some control when he had refused.
“My first loyalty is to Saphira, then myself.” Eragon replied slowly. Every word hurt, as he longed to please and be with Arya.
When she didn’t reply, he continued “She wants to stay in Alagaesia. Visit the homes of her ancestors and…” he trailed off, pondering how to phrase the next reason.
“And?” Arya questioned, her disappointment causing her to snap at him.
“And she and Shruikan wish to become ancestors to other dragons.” Eragon replied tersely. He was trying to ignore Saphira’s feelings of pleasure, while keeping his own to himself.
Arya nodded once in reply, her feelings of disappointment clear on her face “I leave in the morning.” she called over her shoulder, before swiftly departing from Eragon’s tent.

----------

“Do you have any siblings?” Islanzadi asked, her gaze keen.
“Unfortunately, yes.” Alath replied “Two older brothers.”
“What are they like?” Islanzadi continued, trying to pass the time while Onyx flew over the calm seas.
Alath sighed slightly; this was not a subject he liked discussing. “The eldest is a pillar of strength. He is cunning, calm and skilled in battle. As immovable in defence as he is unstoppable in offence. In other words, what every man in my country wants to be like.”
“Including you?” Islanzadi interjected. She was surprised by the focus on war of Alath’s people, but was determined not to show it.
“Including me.” Alath replied, before continuing. “In comparison my middle brother is a disgrace. He is a vile, bestial thing in the guise of a man.” The hatred was clearly evident in Alath’s voice.
“And your parents? What are they like?” Islanzadi continued.
Alath tensed. Even without being able to see his face, Islanzadi could tell that she had hit a nerve. Probably from bitter experience with my daughter. Islanzadi thought sadly.
A long moment passed before Alath answered “My mother died giving birth to me.”
“And your father?”
“He gave me as a sacrifice to the temple.” Alath replied. He quickly gave a brief description of what had happened at the Aragna Hethin.
Islanzadi’s horrified reaction stymied her questions for a moment before she continued “I’m surprised he isn’t dead as well.”
Alath turned at this and stared directly into Islanzadi’s eyes “There were good reasons for keeping him alive.”
Islanzadi flinched back from his golden gaze before inquiring “such as?”
Alath paused, evidently selecting a reason. Finally, he shrugged and replied “He loved my mother very much. I took her away from him. In his position, I might have done the same. I couldn’t blame him then, could I?”
“No, I guess not.” Islanzadi answered slowly. She could not see how Alath’s reason justified his father trying to kill him.
Alath nodded once and began turning away when Islanzadi spoke up again “So what is his position?”
“He’s a high ranking noble who knows Koranduil personally. Does that suffice?” Alath replied, his tone making it clear that he would prefer to change the subject.
“So why were you, a son of a high ranking noble, sent to retrieve me?”
“To make up for a failure in the field.” Alath replied slowly, shame deep in his voice.
“Go on…” Islanzadi prodded.
“It’s a long story…” Alath trailed off.

---Flashback---

Alath climbed the stairs to the top of the captured fortress. It’s fearsome redoubts had been taken a few hours ago and were still awash with blood from it’s defenders. The fortifications rose in an imposing line broken by a single central gate. The sea stood to the left and right hand side of the fortress. The two narrow fingers of land that connected the halves of the island of Alalea all had large fortifications at the either end. One product of a five thousand year civil war. Alath thought sadly as he viewed his men hastily erecting defensive structures on the Archanii side of the fortress. And there is another one. Alath leapt lightly off the fortress walls and gazed at the unfortified, inner section of the defences “Keep working men. It is highly likely that enemy reinforcements are on their way as we speak. We need something to duck behind when the Archanii arrive until our comrades get off their arses and help us!”
The soldiers of Alath’s small army laughed at their commander’s words. When he began to call the names of certain sergeants, however, they looked up.

“Dread Lord?” one of the sergeants asked “It would be best if all the men remained and erected the defences.”
“Remember how I said highly likely? There is a slight chance that no message was sent. We need to attack the nearby village to prevent one, just in case.” Alath answered. The sergeant nodded quickly, immediately seeing the sense of the plan.
Calling to their men, the sergeants prepared to move out. The sun began it’s slow descent when the soldiers moved out.

---------

Alath viewed the small town carefully. Like all towns in Alalea, it was walled and kept a small garrison. He motioned to his men with short hand signals. They spread out, encircling the town, except for a small bunch that followed Alath towards the wooden gates. Breaching charges were quickly set against the reinforced wood. Retreating to a safe position behind a boulder, Alath lit the fuse.

As it burned, he quickly scanned the tops of the low wall for enemy soldiers. Only one could be seen. Alath smiled as he realised how small the garrison really was. Motioning his men to be ready, his sharp eyes watched the fuse burn down. A large explosion sounded, with a pillar of flame rising above the smouldering remains of the gate. Alath’s men surged forward, swords gleaming, as they sprinted into the town. They knew that every second counted. One raised a crossbow. He crouched down, sighted along the shaft and let fly. A dull crunch filled the air as the bolt pierced the sentry’s eye.

Alath and his men soon entered the town. As he charged down the central avenue, a small group of Archanii emerged from the barracks, their spears bared. Alath charged directly at them as crossbow bolts filled the air around him. Three went down, their lack of armour meaning that a shot at the chest was all that was necessary to kill them. The rest bunched tighter together, lamenting the haste that had forced them to leave behind their shields and other defensive apparel. Ten yards away, they ground the backs of their spears into the ground, preparing to skewer Alath as he charged in. When the spear tips were within a few inches of piercing his flesh, Alath jumped. He flipped over the top of the formation as the spearmen thrust forward. Belatedly, they tried to drop their spears and draw their swords. Half went down to Alath’s flickering blades and his warriors’ crossbow support before steel was in the Archanii’s hands. Summoning their courage, the Archanii charged. Alath merely parried their poor blows while his men fell on them from behind. Within moments, the garrison was defeated.

Alath’s men quickly began to break down the doors of the houses. They moved in quickly to silence the screams of the women and children. Alath watched this before breaking down a door of his own. He stopped dead.
“Anyone in there, Dread Lord?” A soldier joked as he ran past to continue the slaughter.
‘No. No one is in this one.” Alath replied over his shoulder, as he looked at the mother holding her baby.

Slipping inside the house, he put a finger to his lips to stop the Archanii from screaming. Motioning her into another room of the house, he whispered quickly “I’m not going to kill you. My men, however, may. They will be gone in a few minutes. When they are, move yourself and your baby to the hills over there,” Alath paused and indicated the direction with a raised finger “once you are there, lay low and don’t tell anyone about this.”
The woman nodded in response, to show she understood, wordless thanks in her eyes.
Alath left the house before reassembling his men. “Right, let’s pull back to the fortress, double time!”
His men replied “Yes, sir,” and swiftly departed. They met up with the surrounding forces before moving out.

---End Flashback---

Teirm’s walls rose in a formidable barricade. The crenulated structure encircled the entire city in a bulwark of stone. Arya watched this from the foothills of the Spine. The elves had travelled the distance from Uru Baen in just a few days.
Lord Suheir approached. He bowed respectfully to Arya before initiating the elven greeting. Arya responded before asking “Did they agree to surrender?”
“Unfortunately not. Lord Risthart seems determined to hold the city against,” Lord Suheir paused before impersonating Lord Risthart’s impertinent tone “monsters, fiends and other non-human trash.” A fierce gleam was in Lord Suheir’s eyes as Arya responded;
“Sound the attack!”

----------

Islanzadi stared quizzically at Alath. “I don’t see what’s wrong with that?”
“It’s wrong because after I left, the woman ran to the nearest city, alerted the Archanii that we had invaded and sent an army against my position.”
“It was still the right thing to do.” Islanzadi replied, trying to soothe the bitterness Alath was showing in his voice.
Onyx snorted once Considering that it prolonged the war by another six months, many would disagree with you.
“Including the partners and children of the three thousand soldiers my moment of mercy killed.” Alath continued. His anger and shame of the event remained as fresh as the day he had learned who had alerted the Archanii forces.



Onyxion, you've read Dead Sky, Black Sun as well?
(Go the Heart of Blood )

To solve the prophesies I have something VERY good lined up. (But I'm keeping it to myself )

This post has been edited by Athlan na Dyr: 16 October 2009 - 01:03 AM