Prelude to the storm

Hanging his baldric on his shoulder, Jason adjusted his belt, and then checked that he had tied the leather peace cord around his sword's hilt, securely in the scabbard.  Satisfied, he picked up the green sash and tossed it over his other shoulder, tying it at the right side of his sword belt.  Tugging his shirt so it set correctly he walked over to the mirror.  Looking at himself he appeared young again, rejuvenated.  He liked what he saw, not a dark brooding man looking for the worst in the world, but a man with hope.

Running his hands through his thick long black hair, he let it fall naturally.  Next, he rubbed his bearded chin, debating if it was time to remove the growth.  It was not long; he kept it trim, but was it him?  He grew the beard after he left the knighthood eight years ago, becoming a man he no longer was.  Shaking his head, he decided, not now, not yet.

Knocking at the door to his room made him step away from the mirror.  "Come in," he answered.

Shae entered his room, closing the door behind her.  They have not had much time to talk since she arrived yesterday.  For what she had gone through the past few weeks, she looked very good.  She now was not wearing her usual, a chain mail tunic, but a mint green top with black leather pants.  Her hair was pulled back, tied up in a pony tail.  She smiled as she walked closer, but knowing her, Jason could see that there was something bothering her.  He could see it in her eyes and on her face.

He sat on the bed, smiling back at her.  Reaching out to him she adjusted the leather laces on the upper part of his tunic around his neck.  He let her fiddle with the laces for a few seconds, and then he lightly grabbed her arms and gently pushed her back.  "You didn't come here to fix my clothes, what's on your mind Shae?"

Turning her head away briefly, Jason could tell she was struggling with the right words.  Whatever it was that she had to say must not be said easily.  He sighed, preparing himself for the worst.  "Come on, out with it."

"Hell, this isn't going to be easy," she said, almost as if she was apologizing to him.  "Jayce, I've not been honest with you.  I'm not who you think I am," she paused.

Interjecting, he said, "Honest about what?  I know that there is something suspicious about your past, what I don't know."

"Just sit there and listen, don't interrupt, "she said, nearly snapping at him.  "I'm not human.  Well not full blood human.  My father is an elf."

"That explains a few. . ."

Pointing a finger at him, he stopped to let her continue.  "My father is Ewryon Araeaine, the elfin prince."  She paused again, obviously to let this sink into his mind.  He felt angry, betrayed, but also curious.  By looking at her, there was still more to come, which hopefully explained her purpose and deception.

"I was sent here to protect you," she was now wringing her hands.  What was to follow must be harder to say yet.  "I was forbidden to tell you, or anyone.  His mother used magic to prohibit me from speaking it.  Ayrial could not even find out.  Yet, Yassir, his faith and knowledge in elfin magic was greater.  Don't ask me why, but he's more powerful than his aunt."

Aunt?  Who in the hell was Yassir then?  Suddenly the comment in Alexi about the sword made sense.  Yassir said "should not fall into human hands."  The b*****d was not human, he was an elf.

"Anyway," Shae continued, "he lifted or broke her spell, which allows me to spill out the truth.  So now I am.  Ewryon would not approve, but I don't care.  With what's at stake in the future you need to know.  You need to know who you are!"

"Who I am?  I know who I am Shae!"  Now he was getting truly angered.

"Do you?  Who are your parents Jason?  Where were you born?  Can you answer those questions?"

"It doesn't matter, I am who I am now by my choices and that's that!"

"No, you may believe that, but many choices were not yours to make Jason.  Others guided you, pulled you, and even dared you."

He stood, getting very close to her.  She backed away nervously from him.  Glaring at her he said, "Who?"

"Your family."

"My family?  What in the hell?" Again, angered to nearly beyond control, but now again curious.

"Mostly your mother and brother, which is my grandmother and father."

Still upset, he suddenly got light headed, sitting back on the bed.  "That sneaky deceitful b*****d," he said shaking his head.

"Runs in the family I guess," she said cracking a smile.

He looked up at her, he wanted to glare and scowl, but instead he smiled.  "You make me laugh," he said.  He wanted more time to digest the revelation, it made sense.  Thinking back on the past week he remembered one day in particular, the old man.  The cream he remembered.  "It will reveal your true self," he said or something similar.  Standing quickly, he moved back to the mirror and looked at his face.

It did appear younger, slightly different, maybe not noticeable to anybody else, but to him.  The cream washed away the illusion that he was hiding behind, removed the mask so to speak.  "My life, a lie.  I'm not even completely human, a half blood."

"No," Shae said stepping behind him, "you're full elf.  I don't know who your father is; I do know he's not the same as Ewryon's.  But I was told he was not human."

Jason still was staring in the mirror, something still bothered him.  Something Rygerri said a few days ago.  What was it?  "Careful half-blood, that sword is cursed," those were his exact words.  Wrapping his fingers around Hunter hanging at his side he studied himself closely in the mirror.  That day with the strange old man made far more sense, his mind was actually focusing now with a clarity he had not had in years.

Who was he?

That was the question that needed answered, and as the old man said, only Jason could ask and answer that question.  Yet, he did intend to speak with Ewryon the first chance he could, also Norrelle and Ayrial.  One if not both must know something.  But ultimately, it was up to him to answer that query.

* * *

Looking out her window, seeing the sun, she knew midday was approaching and the festival at the palace was just about beginning.  The king used his best people to get the word out all afternoon yesterday, calling merchants, entertainers, and the public.  The festival was taking place on the beautiful grounds around the keep, between the first, lower non-defensive wall and the fortified wall that surrounded the palace or castle portion of the keep.

The actually ceremony for the heroes, of which Norrelle did not consider herself one but was included, was to be held on the large horsemanship field on the west side of the keep.  This area was next to the sea cliff on the far western edge of the island.  The keep itself set on the far northwestern corner, so the lower wall ran along two sea cliffs.  Her thinking now was simply that the back side should be secure.  Concerned that Stephen would be foolish enough to try anything.

He had done so once, hiring a Dyginian elf assassin.  Thanks to the efforts of Jason and Fiona, she was no longer a threat.  Yet, that would not prevent him from trying again.  Though she knew her concerns were now worldwide, she still felt as if Islesen was home.  Her authority no longer commanded the city's guard, but there were loyalties amongst the troops.  One in particular, Richard Seveil, who today, rose in ranks to the commander of the city's forces, and he ensured her that he would do his damnedest to protect the king, her, and everyone else.

She trusted Richard, she respected his abilities.  Breathing easier, she left her private room.  Jason and the others should be about ready to head to the keep, and she did not want them to be waiting for her.  Pausing, was not the queen allowed to arrive fashionably late?  Chuckling and shaking her head she glided down the steps.

"My Lady," one of her elfin guards approached.  "Mother wishes to speak with you, she said it's important."

"Where is she," Norrelle said as she reached the landing in the foyer.

"In your study," the elf, no longer hiding behind illusions, pointed.  "She's asked for Lord Shadowgrass, Lady Hartley, Lord Yassir Tachykir, and Madame Brevor.  They have just been seated."

"Thank you," she nodded as she crossed the foyer to the study doors.  "Did she give you. . ."

"No my lady, she did not."

"Of course," she approached the doors; another elfin guard grabbed the door latches and swung them open for her.  Two things, it was odd seeing the elfin servants and guards openly, all her life they lived in hiding, concealed from the human eye, but after the revelations from King Richmond, it was obvious the charade was no longer required.  Secondly, she could get very use to this treatment.

When she entered, everyone in the room stood, with the exception of Jason of course.  Fiona, sitting on a small sofa next to him, quickly coerced him.  Standing he gave her a smirk that he considered an apology.  She cared not, again, this was new to her as well, seeing them all standing and staring at her made her feel a bit awkward.

Upon entering the room, the guard closed the doors, she felt a bit sealed in.  Again, breathing deep she crossed the room, "Sit, please, you all know me."  Looking at Yassir, "most of you anyway."

"Told you," she heard Jason whisper to Fiona, she slapped his arm as they sat.

Coming around her large wood desk, she pulled out the chair, half expecting another elf to pop out of the corner and pull it out for her.  Relieved that none did, she sat, pausing for a moment and glancing behind herself.  Finally she pulled up to the desk and sat as regal as she knew how, remembering all the training from mother Friedman throughout the years.

"Mother," she said, looking at her elfin guardian standing in the corner.

"I have grave news for all of you.  Our foe Rygerri has already struck a devastating blow.  I must sadly inform you that my sister Ayrial has been slain."

Grabbing her chest Norrelle tried to speak, but shock seemed to freeze her throat.   She saw Laurel Brevor cover her mouth with both hands, Yassir quickly stood moving to mother, Fiona also stunned.  Jason stood.

"How in the hell," he said.

"It's my fault," Patch Brevor said, "If I. . ."

Mother raised her hand as Yassir wrapped his arm around his aunt, "Please.  Laurel, you did not kill her.  Yes your poison may have weakened her, but it was her arrogance and dark soul that truly weakened my sister, allowing Rygerri to slay her."

            "What do we do now," Norrelle said, finding her voice.  She was upset, saddened deeply, but she needed to hold her composure.  Ayrial, a b***h she was, but a true friend as well.

            "We do as we planned," mother answered.  "We will need to send word to my sister Aerolyn in the desert so she can accompany us to Dra'che'aeq in Ayrial's stead."

"We do not need to do that," Yassir spoke up, "I will go."

Mother placed her hand on Yassir's chest, "You are as proud and arrogant as your mother.  Yet, Ayrial and I always had known you to be just as faithful to your believes as your brother.  More so we gathered than your mother.  In all honesty, Ayrial and Aerolyn were not all that different I fear, corrupted by power."

Yassir glared at her shortly, and then drew his eyes downward, "I fear you are right aunt."

"I know I'm right," she said proudly.  "And my other sister Erunil is about as bad.    Unfortunately I believe Ayrial was the most strong willed out of the three of them, so Rygerri could not turn her against us." Pausing she looked at Norrelle, then at Yassir, "I am not so sure about the other two.  Both have a vendetta against the human race and all he has to promise them is crushing the humans beneath his clawed feet and placing either one of them in a position of power and I believe they will accept."

"That goes against the promise you all made the god," Norrelle added.

"Yes, but a lot has happened since and even before.  They both are still very bitter.  We need to get to both of them first."

"My mother helped humans every day," Yassir informed her.  "She helped the desert people..."

"Yes," mother interrupted, "a race of humans banished and alienated by the rest of the human race, a powerful ally if war was to break lose against the rest of the human world."

Watching Yassir, Norrelle could see he was in deep thought for a few moments, before he reached out for mother's hand.  After she took it he said, "Again, I cannot see any fault in your thinking.  War against the Royal Order has been talked about actually.  Lady Aynnolyn, whatever my mother's position may be, mine is here by your side, by Norrelle's side."

Laurel stood, walking up to Norrelle.  "I don't mean to change the subject here, but what of my son?"

"Our sentries are searching the catacombs.  It is a vast and confusing network.  As of now, we cannot find him or Ayrial's daughter Constance.  They were not in the vicinity of Ayrial's body, which was found in her main chamber.  Constance's room was empty, slightly ransacked.  We think she ran off in hiding, with your son."

Laurel closed her eyes shaking her head, "Wonderful, alone down there with all those dark undead..."

"The undead have fallen; they were under Ayrial's command, when she died the energies that animated them ceased.  The catacomb is now littered with armed, but dead bodies laying harmlessly in the passages."

"That's comforting," Laurel said, sitting back down with a huff.

"We will find him," Norrelle assured her.  "Our elfin scouts are well trained; they'll track down both of them."  Looking at the rest of the group, "as for now, we proceed as planned.  We go to the celebrations, then make plans to head north to the ancient castle of Dra'che'aeq.  Agreed?"

Everyone stood, nodding nearly at the same time.  Looking at Jason, he gave her a wink with a little nod, his way of saying it will all be alright.  Fiona smiled at her also; it was good to have her back and by her side.  This venture will almost be like the old days, when the knighthood traveled around the land.  A few different faces, but the two she trusted the most were still here, ready to ride with her once more.

* * *

The fair grounds were starting to get populated, a blessing for Kyrian.  She kept her hood up and causally walked through the crowd, stopping briefly to look at merchants wares, all just not to look too suspicious.  The more people that came, the easier her job would be.  When the time came, the crowd would be in a mass panic, making her get away far easier.

The back of the keep was not as heavily traveled now, servants and workers were preparing the seating behind the grassy field where the Calvary practiced and showed off in front of the nobles.  Against the Keep wall was the covered stand where Richmond and his family would be.  She imagined that Shadowgrass and the rest would be in the field right in front of this, facing him.

Looking around she surveyed the area, trying to find a good vantage point.  She needed a spot that would allow her at least two shots.  She was quick with her short bow and had no problem letting loose two arrows before the crowd and guards reacted.  The first arrow was to strike a special target, a small hardened clay jug.  Inside this was another glass vial.  When her arrow struck the vial hanging inside would drop, breaking into a liquid.  The alchemical result would be a deadly gas cloud.  Not large, but big enough to engulf the Kings seating area, killing all on it.

The second was reserved for Fiona Hartley.  Kyrian knew that the foolish knight would react quickly, stepping into an open spot to find the shooter.  Kyrian then would quickly take her out when she did so.  With two shots, the royal family and a majority of important people of the city would be taken out, and one knightly nuisance.

Looking up at the tower at the rear of the keep, she could see it offered a clean line of sight to both the table behind the king and those that would be standing in the field.  Turning back to the stage, she saw a servant easily sit the jug just under the table, hidden but yet in sight.  The man looked all around, and then scurried off upon completion of the deed.  Silver well spent.

Spinning around, facing the tower, she smiled.  "Time to hide", she thought.  She would need to remove at least one guard to get there.  Kyrian did not wish to kill him too early, adding a possibility of early discovery.  Now, she would climb the wall, hide until the ceremony began, then make her move.