Swords and Tears

By

Mousira Squealin

Prologue:

Atop a plain, surrounding the castle, a lone warrior stood. The sword in her scabbard was smeared with blood of fights past, yet the blade shone as brightly as the day it was crafted. Across the warriors back was a long bow and quiver. The warrior stood within leather armour, and stood in a confident poise. The warrior seemed to be waiting for someone.

A howl sounded from the forest far off to the northwest, and the warrior turned toward the sound. A dog came running from the woods. The dog stood at least seven hands tall, and was twice that in length. As the dog stood before its master, she squatted next to it.

“What have you found Bren?” She asked in a cool voice. She looked into the deep blue eyes of her dog and signalled for the dog to show her. The dog took off at a lazy pace, and the warrior easily kept up. After reaching the tree line, she unslung her bow and placed an arrow in the nook above her handhold.

The dog ran ahead about ten feet then stopped and lay on the ground. She caught up with the dog and was startled at its behaviour. Just then, a sound of a branch moving came from above. Before she could turn, she felt someone saddle up behind her and place their hands over her eyes. She turned quickly and hugged her friend.

“Do you know how close you came to being food for scavengers, Artraou?” She laughed as her friend from childhood pulled back from her embrace. He looked at her and shook his head.

After a few years it was still easy to tell that he was the same dirty blond, green-eyed friend she had known since they were very young. The only difference with her friend was a scar along the right side of his face.

“Ah, I know you could never hurt me, Dilare. Now, what are you doing in this area? Last I heard, you were on your way to battle the dragon lords. And that was over two years ago!”

“Well, there’s an easy explanation to that. Have you a place to stay? And maybe we can talk, mostly about how you got that scar.”

He laughed merrily and said, “Aye, I do. This way.” And Artraou started off in a northwesterly direction. Dilare signalled to Bren and the dog trotted along after the two friends.

They arrived in a small village about an hour later. Artraou led Dilare to a building that seemed from all looks to be a tavern. They entered and went to a table in the corner. After they sat and were served, Artraou turned to his friend.

“I warn you, the tale isn’t short.” He laughed.

“Ah, but Artraou. When were your stories ever short. You always were a clever Bard.” She joined in a round of laughter as Artraou begun his tale.

Chapter 1: The Return of a King (Three months before…)

The festival fell into full swing as the King rode forth on his black stallion. He had just returned from a battle that had cost many lives, and now he was once again home. His blue robes seemed to enhance his already perfect appearance. He seemed regal, yet strong. Some of the populace even believe that he gained the crown by defeating all opposition with his bare hands.

The King had piercing grey eyes and a warm smile. His hair and beard were a sinister black with small streaks of grey starting throughout. The most noticeable part of the King was the birthmark over his left eye. It seemed like a mountain with a dragon flying above. All of it no bigger than his thumbnail.

He stepped down from his horse and mounted the dais placed in the centre of the town square. He looked out across his people and smiled. A cheer went up from the crowd and he waved them to silence.

“My people! Have the word go forth! I have finally returned from the Battle of the Sky! We are now a free people!” Again a cheer went up from the crowd, this one was mixed with calls of blessings and ‘Hail our righteous King’. Once more the King waved them to silence.

“Let the feast... Begin!!” The crowd cheered and started to walk towards the keep where the people and royalty would all celebrate as one. Where rank or station was forgotten and people could mingle throughout.

Walking up the steps to the main keep, the King could see his wife staring towards him. He smiled and gathered her up in a huge embrace. He kissed her and then pulled back to look into her eyes. Her sapphire eyes seemed to glitter in the sunlight and her red hair seemed to have a life of it’s own, yet it moved little in the afternoon breeze.

He glanced behind his wife and saw a toddler standing there in the royal colours. He glanced at his wife and was about to ask when she noticed his expression.

“My Lord, please. Meet your son. He was born seven months after you had left. I thought the message had arrived. But I guess not. Please, My Lord, meet Merion.” She stepped back and motioned for the boy to step forward. He seemed to be no older than two, yet he seemed to hold the tall man before him in contempt.

“Merion, eh? I think it is a fitting name for my son.” The King then held his arms open and the boy leapt into his arms.

“Dad?” The boy asked as the King lifted him up. He looked at the boys brown eyes and matching hair and saw a resemblance to his own father.

“Yes, Merion. I am your dad.” He turned to his wife. “Shall we join the festivities?” She nodded and they headed down the stairs into the courtyard filled with tables, foods, and people. The King set the boy down when he started to squirm, but held onto his hand. They walked over to the table closest to the kitchen and all three sat down.

Jugglers walked through the crowd tossing items into the air, and catching them only to send them flying again. Off in a corner, a wizard did small tricks with light and elements to entertain the children. Merion looked at the wizard then his mother and father. His father noticed and nodded to one of the guards to escort his son over. Merion flashed his father a grateful smile and raced off leaving a frustrated guard to follow.

“Our son seems to take well with my appearance. You must have prepared him for this day.” The King said looking at his wife. She smiled and nodded.

“Yes, My Lord. I had hoped that you would return to me soon, and brought him up knowing that his father will return.” She smiled and laid her head against his shoulder.

“My lovely, Ardriena, you never shall fear. We will grow old together, and we shall see our son rule this kingdom before you or I are gone.” He brushed his hand against her cheek lightly and she just continued to smile.

Satisfied that his wife was happy, he looked out on the crowd and a smile came upon his lips. His people all seemed to love him and his family, just as they had for the past three generations. Never once was his family known to be in bad spirits with the populace of Mi-liark. A servant brought over a tray of food to the King and his wife.

Merion seeing his family starting to eat, raced over to join them. He pulled up at the table and sat in his seat. His mother suppressed a laugh at her child’s mad dash, but he could see her reaction. He grinned and started eating.

Chapter 2: The Story of Clouds. (Present)

“It happened about two and a half years ago, Dilare. You would not believe it if you had seen it, but the sky came alive.”

“You mean things moved in the sky.” Dilare said snappishly. She leaned back in her chair and took another sip of Ale.

“No no. I mean the sky itself came alive. Just... hear me out. I was in the far land of Mi-Liark. Yes. I was across the sea.” He paused to take a drink of his Ale, then sat forward as he often did when telling a tale. “I was with the King who ruled there, you know. Nice fellow. Never did learn his name. But his Ardriena, ah, a sight for sore eyes. The King had just been called to take a stand against a force growing to the north.

Things could be seen, lights and other, jumping up into the sky. Sorta like they were building an army up there. The clouds also flew to that spot as if to help this growing menace. It wasn’t that long after you had left. But leave that story until I’m done, then I’ll hear your tale. When you had left I went to that land. But I side-track.” He took another drink and ate a slice of bread. After swallowing, he continued.

“The King asked his populace for volunteers to go out and scout the area to see just what was going on. He didn’t like to just run into danger, smart lad. So’s, these couple of people step forth and say they’ll go. They ran out to check the area. About a week later one of the two comes back. Now, I’ve seen fear, but this guy seemed like he’d died and returned.” At that, Artraou shook his head as if he couldn’t believe it.

“So, then the King hears his story on how the Clouds came down to attack the poor guy. I thought the guy saw a cloud dragon, or something like that. But the King believed the guy. He called his dragon-riders and wizards to join with his army when they went out. I, being a guest of his Highness, was asked if I wished to go home or come along.

Now, mind you Dil, I’m never one to turn down a chance to have a new story. So, I went along. For the first couple of days, everything is fine. But then, on the fourth day out, we seen what the poor guy had been yammering about. We had just set up for the night when one of the guards shouts out. I look over, and...” Artraou took a deep breath. Dilare looked at him.

“And...?” Asked Dilare.

“And, I saw a cloud sweep down from the sky and cover the guy. Everyone saw. A few seconds later, the poor guys blood flows from under the cloud. When the cloud lifted up from the ground, there was nothing left.” Looking into her friend’s eyes for some part of his story to be a joke, she saw that he was serious. Deathly serious.

“Oh my... Pridrus have mercy.” Dilare said gently. Artraou looked up at his friend. He smiled slightly, but she could tell it was forced.

“The cloud left after that. It came, once a night, every night, after that, as we got closer to the castle that we guessed the things were coming from, and it’d take one more of our boys. At this point, you can guess that I and some of the boys wanted to leave. But, after the fifth time this happened, the clouds stopped coming.

We remained on edge, just in case. But we were left alone, right up to the walls of the castle. It was then, then the dragons came. Oh yes, they came. There were lots of them, Dil! Blue, Black, Green, Red, Gold, White... you name it. It was there. We fought them, everyone. The wizards and Dragon-riders helped a lot. We fought for many days. I can’t remember all the details. And I don’t think I’d want to.” He sighed and took another drink. He looked at Dilare and she waited patiently. “Then, I guess, they stopped.”

“The dragons?” Dilare asked.

“No, the people controlling the sky and the dragons. I think they were finished their task, or they just gave up. Whatever it was, we got inside the castle, and finally killed them all.” Dilare sighed. “There was a grand feast when we arrived back in the capitol. And I got to met his Highness’s child. Apparently, his wife was pregnant when he left. Should’ve seen the old boy’s face. To you, King whoever!” He smiled and tipped his mug in a mock toast. Dilare smiled at her friend.

“Still doesn’t tell me how you got the scar, old friend.” Dilare said laughing along with her friend.

Dilare motioned for her to lean a bit closer. She did and Artraou whispered in her ear. “I fell and hit a tree on the way home. Bloody small piece of a branch sticking out got me.” He sat back and laughed aloud at his own folly. Dilare just shook her head and laughed.

“Always have some way to make the story have a funny ending, don’t you?” Dilare said chuckling.

“Aye, that I do. So now, what about you? What has you back here so soon? You told me four to five years I could wait.”

“It’s simple dear friend. They ran. All those dragon lords just got up and ran. So, about four months ago, just after they left, I returned home. This little guy,” She said stroking the dog’s head. “Followed me since we met about five or six months after I arrived there.”

“That’s your tale? Where’s the mystery and the background?” Artraou asked in an exasperated voice.

“I’m not the story teller that you are, dear boy.” Dilare said. Artraou gave a hurt look.

“Well, maybe I can tell your next tale.” He said calmly.

“What do you mean?” Dilare asked, now interested.

“We must go to a far realm, Dilare. For eight years, we will learn what that old fool in the corner wants us to. Then, whatever.” He said pointing to a man in the far corner of the tavern. Seeing the two looking at him, he got up and joined them. Dilare shot her friend a dark look, but saw that he was not happy about this either.

The man sat at the table and looked at them. “I cannot tell you much, but my master says that you two plus two others will save this planet. He sees much, and knows that if you don’t, this world will die. Please, at least come with me. My master will explain the rest. I assure you, he will let you go at any time you so please.”

Dilare looked at her friend who just shrugged.

“Alright, we’ll meet him. If he cannot convince me, I leave. Who is your master?” Dilare asked carefully.

“Why, he is the greatest wizard of the planet, Triou Lizarel.” The old man said smoothly. Dilare’s eyes opened wide and saw Artraou’s doing the same. They both knew that Triou Lizarel was a great prophet and had always been right, if he really was who the old man says.

“Well, at least if this old man is right, Dil, that he serves the great one, we know that we have to do this.” All Dilare could do was nod. Then the man stood and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. And then, everything went black for Dilare and Artraou.

Chapter 3: The Tolling of the Bells. (Eight years later…)

Merion yawned and closed the door to his room. Now at the age of ten, he was expected to learn matters of state. As much as the little Prince disliked the lessons, he knew he had to learn them.

He shrugged out of his clothes and threw on his night robe. Climbing into bed, he heard the door open. He laid down in his bed and looked in the direction of the door to see his mother approaching his bed. She sat on the edge and ran her fingers through his hair. He smiled and moved away laughing.

“Mom, why do you always do that?” He asked and sat up.

“I worry about you, Merion. It’s a mother right.” She added when he looked at her strangely. She smiled and gave him a kiss on his forehead. He laid back down and she pulled the covers up over him.

“Mother?” Merion asked as she started for the door. She turned and looked back at him.

“Yes, son?”

“Was father joking today? About taking me out to watch the dragons flight?”

Ardriena smiled. “No, he wasn’t. Sleep now. Dragons tomorrow.”

“Ok, mom.” He then settled down for the night, as his mother blew out the candle by the door and left the room. She shut the door silently behind her.

Merion listened until the footsteps could no longer be heard, then leapt up and went to the window. He looked out and saw far off in the distance a large mountain. At the top of the mountain a large shape could be seen. Merion knew the shape was that of a dragon. He sighed and went back to bed.

Sleep didn’t come easy, and he tossed within his bed covers. As he started to drift into sleep, he heard the castle’s bell sound off. He quickly sat up and ran to the door. A guard passed and he called out to him. The guard halted in his tracks and ran back to the prince.

“Yes, Your Highness?”

“What’s going on here? Why are the bells ringing?”

“I haven’t a clue, My Lord. Shall I find out?” The guard asked hastily.

“No, you shall wait here. I shall get dressed and accompany you.” The little Prince said. The guard nodded and took post at Merion’s door. The Prince turned and returned to his room. He grabbed his clothes and quickly dressed. After he was finished, he left his room and followed the guard to the main audience hall.

They arrived in the hall and saw a huge crowd around the main platform where the thrones sat. Merion knew only one of three people must be hurt if it is around the thrones.

“Mother! Father! Tirmer!” He shouted and squeezed through the press of people. He arrived at the base of the platform and saw his father sitting on his knees on the floor holding his wife close. Merion was confused until he saw the blood that came from his mother’s shoulder. “Mom!!” He shouted and ran up to stand beside his father. He took his mother’s hand and she smiled weakly at him.

“I’ll be aright, My Son. I’ll be...” She fainted and Merion looked to his father. The King set his wife down gently and two guards stepped forth with the doctor and started to tend to her wound. Merion hugged his father and watched as the doctor instructed the guards to bring her to her room. The doctor turned to Merion and his father.

“She’ll be alright. But she mustn’t move too much though. I’ll give you a full report when I have finished examining her.” The doctor then turned and followed the guards to the Queen’s bedroom.

Merion stared after the guards and his mother. He then hugged his father. “What happened father? What happened to my mother?” He stepped back and looked at his father. He saw tears in his father’s eyes. “Answer me! What has happened this night?”

“I am sorry Merion, but an arrow struck your mother. Before I knew what was happening, she stood up, pulled it from herself and fell. I caught her, and sounded the alarm. I fear the arrow may have been poisoned. She had much difficulty breathing before you came.” He hung his head but held his son’s hand.

Merion couldn’t speak, he just stood there with his jaw opened slightly. Tirmer walked over and put his hand on the young Prince’s shoulder. “I am sorry young sire. I thought my magiks would warn me. But I have failed you.” At that, the wizard fell to his knees and placed his head near the floor. “Please, do as you wish. I have failed.”

The King raised his head and looked at the wizard. “No. You have not failed us. The opponent was much stronger. You cannot be faulted for doing your best, but still being beaten. Same as I could not be blamed if the Kingdom fell due to a natural cause, like an earth shake, or a volcano’s eruption. So do raise your head and help this old friend of yours. Merion, please go back to your room.” When the prince started to protest the king continued. “When I hear of any change, I shall tell you. Now go.” He then held his hand out to Tirmer and the wizard helped him to his feet.

Merion walked off towards his room, but stopped and hid in one of the alcoves. He could barely hear his father and the wizard but he could hear enough.

“My liege, what are we to do. All that which was foreseen is coming true. I fear, if my lord shall permit me, I fear that our young prince is not ready for the tasks that shall be laid before him.” Tirmer sighed. He then looked the king straight in the eyes. “What would you have me do?”

“Try to contact Triou. I will not permit this to happen now. Merion is skilled with bow and blade. He also knows much for one of his age and he learns quickly. But, I’ll not have my son go off alone. I don’t care if Triou Lizarel says so. I will not permit it!” He slammed his fist on the arm to his throne. Just then, a voice came from the left side of the throne.

“We’re not happy with this as well, Majesty. But all parties must co-operate.” The voice seemed like one who had spoken much in his short life. The king looked up.

“You voice seems familiar. Show thyself.”

The voice chuckled. “Aye, King Sterilise. I am familiar. But my friends may not be familiar to you.” He pulled back his hood and the King chuckled.

“Artraou! Good friend. Welcome back. But how did you get in here?” The king then noticed the other two people behind the minstrel. The first was a woman in warriors clothing, and the second was an old man who seemed scholarly.

“These are my friends. Allow me to introduce Dilare Dragonslayer and Triou Lizarel.” At his name, Triou stepped forward.

“Hello, your majesty. As you may have noticed things have begun. I have come for your son...”

“I will not allow you to take my son. He is too young as of yet.” The king interrupted. Triou continued as if no comments had been made.

“... and Tirmer. Tirmer, Dilare, Artraou and Merion. Savours of the world. If even one of them are missing, there will be no chance.” He turned and looked directly at Merion. “Come on out young sire.”

Merion looked surprised and came out slowly. He walked over to Triou and looked up at him.

“How did you know I was there? Not even Tirmer knew I was.” He blinked and looked at Tirmer who nodded in agreement.

“Ah, it is but one of the curses to seeing the future. But it is alright. He was not supposed to know you were listening. For if he did, you’d not be here now.” Triou smiled warmly.

Merion thought about it then broke into a soft chuckle. “Too true.”

Triou turned to King Sterilise. “Now we must leave. So I shall...”

“No, magician. I already said that Merion does not leave.”

“But, father. If I can help, I want to.”

The king looked at his son. “You are not ready Merion. I will not...”

“Father! I can do it. I will have Tirmer with me. If you cannot trust me alone, at least trust him.” Merion stood looking at his father. He was angry that his father thought he was not ready, but was determined to prove he was.

Tirmer laid a hand on the king’s shoulder. “I shall watch him your highness. I pledge so on my life.”

“It will be your life should you come back alone.” The king muttered under his breath. Tirmer heard and nodded.

Triou pulled out a small pouch and sprinkled a bit of dust on Dilare, Artraou, Tirmer and Merion. He then gestured and they all disappeared.

The king sat heavily upon his throne and held his head in his hand. “Why now?”

…The next day…

Dilare sighed and looked at Artraou. After spending four years with him, studying under the wizard Triou Lizarel, she found she was starting to pick up a lot of his habits. She looked at the two new people with her. One seemed to be a man in his forties to fifties, and the other seemed to be a child no older than eight. She leaned over and spoke in a whisper to Artraou.

“Why must we travel with an old man and child?”

Artraou laughed, causing Merion to look at him. “Why, the old man is Tirmer. Magician and advisor to King Sterilise. The child is Prince Merion, heir to the throne.”

Dilare looked surprised, then turned angry to Triou Lizarel. “Why would you saddle us with a royal child? Where we go is no place for children, much less for those who must live! Are you mad?”

Artraou tried to stop her, but reacted too slowly. Instead of becoming angry, Triou laughed.

“Oh. No my child. He is not a mere child. He is a strong fighter, or will be when you find his weapon.” He turned and made a sharp whistle. Bren came running.

Dilare was reminded of the power of this wizard. No one but her was able to call her dog. In some ways, she suspected that Bren was always Triou’s dog as he seemed to listen more to him than her.

Triou whispered something into Bren’s ear. He woofed and padded over to stand beside Dilare. She absentmindedly patted the dog’s head, who raised his ears in response.

Merion looked up at Triou. “Is what you said true? I have a weapon?”

Dilare looked skyward and mouthed the words ‘why me?’ while Triou responded. “Oh course, young sire. Do you think I’d let you fight without that which is necessary to fight? Or do you think you’re a wizard now?”

Merion blushed at the question and the others laughed lightly. Artraou squatted next to him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Aye, lad. We’ve all our strengths. Dilare may seem aggravated at you being here, but it’s more of the fact that she barely knows you.” Dilare huffed in arrogance. Artraou just smiled and Merion felt a smile come to his lips.

“Thanks… I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

“Artraou. But call me Art.”

“Thank you, Art. You can call me Merrie, though my name is Merion.”

Dilare sighed heavily. “I am Dilare. Since we seem to have a common cause, I’d rather have those around me able to call my name. Art here calls me Dil. I’d prefer for the rest of you to call me Laare.”

Tirmer and Merion nodded. Tirmer gave a slight bow.

“I am called Tirmer. Though, you may call me Teir.”

Dilare gave a slight smile and looked at Artraou. “Wizard.”

Artraou laughed heartily as Tirmer scowled slightly.

“Please tell me she’ll not be calling me Wizard during this entire adventure.”

“With Dil, very few know when she’s kidding.” Artraou laughed again as another scowl appeared on Tirmer’s face. “Oy, you’re worse than her on a stormy day!” He pointed at Dilare who scowled to prove his point. Merion joined in on the laughter and Triou shook his head.

These are the ones that should save the world? I am glad. I’d not choose a better group myself. Triou smiled at his thought as he watched the group laugh at their jokes.

Chapter 4: The Rapion. (One week later)

Merion looked around the cave. Since his companions and him started their journey nearly a week ago, Merion had found his best use to be a scout. Dilare taught him the bow and he found he was a natural at it. His first few shots were off by inches, but now he could shoot nearly anything aimed at.

Seeing something in the gloom of the cave, he froze and waited to catch a better glimpse. A slight sound to his right, and he felt a hand on his knee.

“What is it?” Dilare asked silently enough he had to strain to hear.

“Something is in the cave.” Merion spoke as silently as Dilare. She nodded and took out a small tube. Placing this to her eye, she looked into the cave.

“Goblin.” She nearly spat the word out. Merion tapped her twice on the shoulder to indicate that he would be going back to tell the others. Dilare looked at him and nodded. They both moved back quietly and returned to the others.

“I think it’s the place we’re looking for. Goblins guard the entrance.” Tirmer nodded. Artraou pulled out his rapier, and Dilare and Merion got their bows ready. They walked toward the cave. About ten feet from the entrance, Dilare stopped them and told Tirmer to get ready to attack with a spell on her signal.

Dilare then stepped out and walked up to the Goblin sentry. The sentry snapped to attention and watched her approach.

“What do fizniss here?” He spoke in his half language so common to those of the Goblin tribes.

“I’ve come to visit your master. Move out of the way minion and allow me to pass.”

“Show getchmin, no pass gizniat getchmin.” The goblin held its pike in a way that was not lost on Dilare.

“Hold friend.” She held up her hands and Tirmer began his spell. “I just wish to get my business done. But of course, if you wish to do this the hard way…” She fell to the ground as Tirmer stood and shouted the last word to his spell.

Flames of a bright blue and deep black shot forth from his hands to scorch the air above Dilare. Screams could be heard above the crackling of the flames. Dilare stayed on the ground, feeling the heat from the flames until they finally stopped. She snuck a peek up and was greeted with the sight of a charred Goblin head.

She shuffled back a few feet then stood. The others came up to stand beside her.

“Nice spell, Tirmer. Next time, aim a bit higher. That was a bit too close for my liking.”

“Sorry. I haven’t used that in a few years. So I was a bit off.”

Dilare shook her head and sighed. She then turned to enter the cave when Merion grabbed her arm.

“Laare, how did you know what the goblin was saying?” He asked.

Dilare was about to reply snappishly, but she realized that Merion was merely asking a question of his tutor. Tutor? When have I come to think of myself as his tutor? Since he wished to be a fighter… I guess…

“Dilare? Merion asked you a question.” Artraou said impatiently.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry, Merrie. I learned Goblin a long time ago, when I was young, my village lived close to a friendly tribe. If you could believe that. We traded a lot with them. So I learned the language.”

“Ah… ok. Do you think you could teach me some?” Merion asked.

Dilare smiled and patted his head. “Sure. Just, not now. We still have to find your weapon.”

“Oh, right!” He stood up straight and smiled. “Shall we go then?”

“Of course. Merrie.” Artraou said, giving his calm smile. Dilare held up a hand for silence.

“I heard something.” She said quietly. Merion held his bow ready and Artraou held his rapier in a defensive position.

A voice boomed out of the cave. “Put away your arms. If I wished you dead, you would already be so. Enter the Rapion.” Dilare looked surprised but put away her dagger.

Merion glanced at her, wondering where the dagger came from, but didn’t say anything.

“The Rapion?” Tirmer asked.

“Yes,” came the voice. “The Rapion. The home.”

Dilare looked at her companions, then turned towards the cave. “Who are you? Show yourself first and then I may enter.”

A sigh permeated the air and then all went silent. Just as Dilare was going to speak again, the voice returned. “Very well.”

A shimmering appeared at the cave mouth and then a bright light. They all looked away, and when they looked back an elf was standing there. “Do not seem so surprised. Whom else could command the children of the ground?”

“And who else can make up a lie that quickly?” Artraou returned.

The elf squinted his eyes slightly and looked at Artraou. He then gave a low laugh. “Lords be, if it isn’t Artraou Encousi. Well, well. Be they friends of yours?”

“Yes, yes they’re friends. This is Dilare Dragonslayer, Merion of Mi-Liark, and Tirmer Timmin.” Artraou said while motioning to each in turn.

Dilare whispered lightly to Artraou. “Art, who is this?”

The elf chuckled. “Dilare. I’ve heard of you. Quite careful about yourself are you not. You could have asked me, but chose to ask he whom you know. My name is Araxon Fellinor Highbranch. Your friend met me when I had visited Mi-Liark during the celebration.” He then turned to face Merion. “Though, I do not remember seeing you.”

“That’s because, Araxon, the King did not like your jokes and would not let you sit near his table. This is his son.” Artraou spoke with a slight ring to his voice, as if he were making light of the reason for Araxon’s not knowing.

“Oh dear me, you’re right Artraou. I’d forgotten that bit. How is the old man anyway?”

“My father is not old!” Merion shouted. Tirmer grabbed Merion and pulled him back.

The elf chuckled. “I know that, young one. It is merely a statement. But enough, come on in and we shall talk in more comfortable surroundings.”

Araxon turned and walked into the cave. Artraou followed after, with Dilare, Merion and finally Tirmer. Dilare stopped as she entered the cave. Giving a small gasp she looked around.

“This… this is the Elvin Home.”

“Didn’t I say this is Rapion?” Araxon muttered.

Artraou laughed and patted Araxon on the back. “Yes, you did. But Dilare knows very little of the Elvin tongue, and I only know what you taught me. And that wasn’t very much.”

As they walked further into the cave, the sound of a hammer striking metal could be heard. Further along, the general buzz of civilization could be heard. They walked into a brightly lit cavern. Merion gasped at the sight, for here in front of him were many elves walking around, as if they were in a city.

Dilare drunk in the sight of it, while Tirmer studied it in awe. Even the widely travelled Artraou was slack-jawed at the view. Araxon chuckled lightly to himself as he led them to the source of the sound they heard.

“Friends, please allow me to introduce my brother, Brasson Tillian Highbranch.” Araxon said indicating the blacksmith.

Brasson put up his hammer and bowed to them. He then saw Dilare and gave her a slight smile. “Good ev’n gentlemen, and lady.”

Dilare gave a small scoff at being called a lady, but Artraou noticed a slight smile on her face.

“What bring ye to the Rapion. Couldn’t poss’bly be ta see meself now, would it?” Brasson said in a heavily accented voice.

Araxon placed his finger upon his chin in a gesture of thinking. He turned to the group and questioned them, “Why did you come here?”

Dilare looked at Merion, indicating this was his quest and so he should speak. Merion took a deep breath. “I was sent here for a weapon. I was told to find the weapon that would help me achieve my friends’ and my desire.”

Brasson stroked his chin a second, leaving a small bit of soot on it. “Aye, Araxon. That be sounding like that sword there. The sword.”

“But who would send the boy for such a thing. Even Triou Lizarel wouldn’t send a boy after something like that, Brasson.”

“Whatzit matter? He be asking fer it, and if he be asking, someone told him ‘bout it. Now I know fer sure I’ve not told a soul in the last two-hundred years. So unless someone else has been spreading that legend…”

“It isn’t a legend, Brasson. I’ve seen it myself.”

“Why blind me. I fergotten that. You went with them group that many years back…”

“You make me sound old.”

“Well, ye be old! Dear brother, ye be nearly twice me own age. And I only be a young one of two-hundred fifty.”

Dilare cleared her throat loudly and the two elves turned to face her. “I’m sorry, but as interesting as this all sounds, what are you two going on about?”

Araxon glanced at his brother who just gave him a shrug. “Ah, well. We were talking about the possibility that your young friend here may very well be asking for something impossible to get.”

“And that would be?” Artraou asked calmly.

“I…” Araxon started.

“Please tell me. Triou Lizarel told me I had to get my sword. Without it, the world will die.” Merion pleaded.

“Merion!” Tirmer said surprise quite evident in his voice at his young sire’s behaviour.

“Do not stop me Tirmer. Please. Tell me. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

Araxon sighed and looked to his brother. Brasson copied his sigh and spoke in a low voice.

“You must go to the Dwarven Halls. To the heart of their world, upon the coldest peak. There you will find your sword, Merion. There you will find Fallen Hope.”

Chapter 5: The Dwarven Home (Three days later)

Merion sighed heavily but continued walking. For the last three days after he had first heard the story about Fallen Hope, his companions and him had started their journey to the Dwarven Halls in hope of some word or direction to where he could find the sword.

He remembered the entire conversation and kept going over it in some desperate gamble that he had maybe missed something. Brasson had told them to go to the Dwarven Halls in search of the sword. Merion then asked if there was any other way, and when no response was given Dilare and Tirmer had asked him again. Araxon had finally spoken up and told them there was no other way.

Merion gave another sigh and stepped over a tree root. Tirmer glanced at him and Merion gave a small smile to him.

“Sire, are you alright?”

“Yes, but I’d be better if you’d stop calling me ‘sire’ out here.”

“But, young sire…”

“No buts, Tirmer. I am a warrior in this group. Nothing more, nothing less.” He said in an aggravated tone. Merion had tried countless times since they began their journey at Triou’s tower to get his father’s advisor to stop using his rank when he spoke to him.

Tirmer began to protest again when Dilare put her sword against his neck.

“Look, wizard…”

“Tirmer.”

“Whatever. Look. We all have to co-operate. But if you do not seize calling him sire, I shall cut out your tongue. He stands a better chance of living if the enemy, whoever they may be, doesn’t know his true identity.” Dilare spoke in a calm tone, but her grip on her sword showed that Merion wasn’t the only one tired with the constant title.

Tirmer gulped and watched the sword the entire time as he spoke. “Ah, I… see your point. I… I believe I-I… will do so. Please, forgive me… Merrie.”

Merion hid a chuckle at Tirmer’s distress, but nodded. As Dilare put her sword away, she gave a small wink to Merion who grinned in return.

Dilare, despite her protests when they first met, had turned into a good friend to the young Prince. Merion held the thought to himself, but he wished to grow up and be a warrior like Dilare. Not the king of a nation.

Artraou walked up to Dilare’s side and put a hand on her shoulder. Merion thought about that and believed that they had a closer relationship than just their friendship. She smiled at her old friend and gave a small indication that they should continue on. After another hour of walking, they finally stopped for a rest.

Tirmer flopped down on the ground, obviously tired from the trek up the mountain, while Artraou sat lightly on a rock and pulled out his lyre. He plucked a few strings to check the sound and was pleased to hear it was still in tune.

Dilare sat upon a fallen log, and after a few moments of thought, Merion joined her. Dilare looked at him before looking over at Artraou.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to become a nightingale again.”

“Dil, you wound me! I was merely going to sing a small song to lighten the mood.”

Dilare shook her head as she laughed. “You’re songs are never small, Art.”

Artraou gave a great sigh. He shook his head and laughed heartily. “Very well, Dil. I shall forgo on that for now. But don’t forget, I will be starting my tale about you some time.”

Now Dilare sighed, while Merion laughed lightly at the conversation. Dilare looked at Merion and raised an eyebrow.

“And do you believe you’ll be getting off so easy? If he’s writing about me, he’ll be writing about you.”

Merion gulped as his laughter died suddenly. He looked distressingly at Artraou. “She’s kidding, right?”

“Nope. I’ll be writing the ballad of the great Dilare, Merion, Tirmer and Artraou.” Artraou grinned and nodded his head towards Tirmer.

Dilare and Merion looked over to see Tirmer staring at Artraou with disbelief in his eyes. Merion nearly collapsed in laughter, while Dilare and Artraou laughed at the comic face of the wizard-advisor.

A noise sounded off to the side. Dilare began to draw her sword when a short man walked out from behind a tree.

“I’d not do that if I were you, lass. This here place is surrounded by me friends.” At which a dozen more Dwarves stepped out. “Now, if you don’t mind. I’ll be asking ye what yer doing in me hills?”

Artraou stood and bowed before the Dwarf. “Ah, friend Dwarf…”

“I am no friend of ye. Yet. Speak your business here.”

“It is quite simple, we are here to see your king.”

The Dwarf ran a hand through his beard. While he was thinking, Merion took the time to study the Dwarf.

He stood about four feet tall and was very stout. His hair and beard were a fiery reddish-rust colour while his eyes were a deep brown. His clothing was like the tanned leathers and such that the elves wore, but on top of that, the Dwarves wore metal armor. On a belt around his waist, hung a hammer and a small sack.

The Dwarf stopped stroking his beard and looked over each of the group. “And what would a minstrel, old man, young boy and a woman be wanting with our king?”

Artraou spoke up before Dilare could raise a fuss over being called a woman. “We wish to ask him about a powerful artifact that we were sent to get. Triou Lizarel had sent us to the Elves. Araxon Highbranch sent us to you.”

“Ye speak many names of power, minstrel. Very well, I’ll take ye and yer companions to the king. He’ll decide what to do with ye then.” At that, he turned and started walked.

Merion and his companions rose and followed the Dwarves to their home.

The dwarf stopped in front of a gate. The gate was made from metal and stone, and was connected to a fifteen-foot wall. It extended to nearly fifty feet in either direction before turning off. The dwarf waved to someone on the wall and the gate swung inwards revealing a town within its walls.

Dilare looked about and could see dwarves walking around everywhere. Young children were playing a game with a hoop made from rope and a bunch of stones, while a group of what appeared to be adult females were working on a huge tapestry.

The dwarf walked up to a fort in the center of the village. He stopped and turned to the group. “What shall I be saying to me king? Or, rather, who be coming?”

Merion looked at Tirmer who just looked away. He stepped forward and spoke to the dwarf. “Prince Merion of Mi-Liark and his companions.”

The dwarf shrugged. “All right. Wait here, I’ll see if he wants to meetcha.”

With that, he turned and entered the fort. Merion looked a little put off at the indifference to his title. Dilare shook her head and placed her hand on his shoulder. He looked up at her, but she was looking forward, watching the door.

“Patience. It is the most important part of a warrior, Merrie.”

“Of course, Dilare. I’m sorry.”

She chuckled lightly and looked at him. “You’re still young. You’re allowed to make mistakes.”

Before he could respond, the door opened and the dwarf came back out. He looked at Merion, then at a paper he held, then once more at Merion before looking surprised. He then turned and ran back inside.

“What was that about?” Tirmer mumbled.

Artraou leaned over and whispered something to him that was lost on Dilare.

The dwarf came racing back and waved them in. As they got near him, the dwarf turned to Merion.

“Forgive me, milord. We were not told of any visit from far away noble personages. The king looks forward to seein’ ya.”

“It is alright. Our mission is to be kept from the wrong people, and if I came in as a parade, with all fan fare and such allotted of my rank, I fear this village may have been attacked, or something would have happened to jeopardize our mission.”

“A mission, be it, milord? Well then, durin’ yer stay in Cadrac, I’ll be your most humble help. Call me Draik.”

“Thank you, Draik. These are my friends…”

“Aye, no time fer that, highness. I’ll be hearing it when ya meet the King.”

Merion nodded and walked past into the hall. Tirmer and Artraou followed along, but Dilare fell back slightly. A howl went up in the distance and Dilare was reminded of Bren. She then hurried after the others.

They reached the center chamber. Draik ran up and bowed before a dwarf who sat upon a throne. He wore a crown of gold set with many gems. He then looked up and turned to Merion.

“Prince Merion, may I present the highly esteemed King Krakge Lorfalln. King Krakge, I present to you Prince Merion of Mi-Liark.”

The king looked down at him and gave a small nod. Merion bowed before the king of dwarves and then stood indicating his friends.

“King Lorfalln, may I present my friends?” The king gave a slight nod. “This is Tirmer, Wizard of his arts and Counsellor to my Father’s Court.” Tirmer gave a bow. “This is Artraou, Minstrel and friend of my father.” Artraou did a flourish with his hand and bowed at the waist. “And this is Dilare. Dragon Slayer and teacher of fighting to yours truly.” Dilare gave a nod of her head and turned her attention to studying the hall.

“Welcome all. I would offer you refreshments, but the midday meal is very soon. I would ask if you care to join us for dinner.”

“That would please us, King Lorfalln.”

“Please. Call me Krakge. All within this home do.”

“I thank you, Kin… ah, Krakge.”

“Come, come. Let us sit and enjoy our dinner.” A side door opened and two dwarves came out. From their dress, Merion guessed they were of the royal family.

The dwarves came over and bowed before the king. “Father. I hope you are well.” The female dwarf said with a curtsey.

The male bowed at the waist and looked up at his father. “As do I father, hope you are well.”

“I am well, my children. Please, sit yourselves and meet Prince Merion of Mi-Liark.” Merion nodded his head in acknowledgement.

The royal children turned to him and gave a curt nod in greeting.

The male ran his fingers through his beard. “Me name be Dilm, Yer Highness.”

The female shook her head at her brother and waggled a finger. “My brother has the manners of a boar. My name is Princess Tizrel Lorfalln, Your Highness, Prince Merion.”

Merion blinked and nearly forgot himself. A gentle cough from Tirmer helped him regain his composure. “I am pleased to meet you both. But, if I may be so bold to venture an opinion?” He looked at Tizrel as he spoke and continued when she nodded. “You seem to command the human tongue very well. I was under the impression that most dwarves had some problems with it.”

Tizrel giggled lightly. “It is because I am a human.” Seeing the awe on Merion’s face she continued. “Well, half human really. My mother was human. My parents believe that when I finish growing, I shall be between their heights. As you may notice, I am slightly taller than a normal dwarf.”

“I did notice. If I may ask…”

“Why is my mother a human and mated with the dwarf King? It is because when Krakge was Prince he had travelled the realm and met my mother. They had fallen in love and he asked her to be his wife when he became King. She was happy and asked her father. He is one of the border barons of the realm, Highness. My grandfather was not very happy about it, but he wouldn’t stop her.” Tizrel spoke with love and Merion noticed her eyes go to her father countless times.

Krakge nodded. “When I became King, I asked her to join me. The alliance between humans and dwarves grew stronger with our marriage. Dilm is also a half human.”

Dilm who had been taking a drink of ale stepped in. “Aye, that I be. And as fer me language, Prince Merion, I be choosing to speak t’is way. If I so choose, I can make the effort to speak like yourself, but I prefer the Dwarven tongue.” He added with a glint to his eyes that betrayed his mirth.

Merion smiled. “It is still good to meet you both.”

Dilare tapped Merion’s shoulder and when he looked at her, she tapped the side of her cheek. “Shouldn’t you tell them why we are here?”

“Oh, right. Krakge, I have come to request the Fallen Hope. The elves directed us here, and Triou Lizarel directed us to the elves.”

Krakge looked at Draik. “Ase a sion?”

“Duv don a sion. Kesk na bae. Idru donva, Krakge.” Draik pleaded.

Merion watched the dwarves speak in their own languages and leaned to whisper to Dilare. “What are they saying?”

“I don’t know, but I am sure we shall find out.” Dilare whispered back and thrust her chin to indicate that he should pay attention.

Krakge pointed at Draik. “Nok toos ma Fay-Ha!” He turned to look at Merion. “I’m sorry. Draik here has just told me that you didn’t ask him about it. If you had, you would have found out that it is impossible to get the Fay-Ha.”

“It is possible to get it. Just, difficult.” A voice spoke from the shadows.

Dilare had begun to stand and draw her sword when a dog came running over to her. “Bren!” She gave the dog a hug.

Merion looked up to see Triou step out of the shadows.

“You do know where it is though, Krakge? I passed the Fay-Ha to you to hide. Little did I think it’d be needed in this lifetime…?” Triou added with a sigh.

Tirmer and Artraou perked up from the conversation they were having and watched with interest.

The dwarf king sighed. “Aye, I know where it be. But I still think it be folly to go there.”

“What you think on the matter is little as you would not be going anyway. Only the one who wishes to use the sword may go in after it.”

“You’re a fool, wizard! Sending the boy in alone will be his death!” Krakge slammed his fist on the table. “I’ll not be held responsible!”

Merion stood from his chair and moved around the table so he stood in front of the Dwarven King. “My father would not blame you, Krakge. Triou has already met with my father. And although he was less than pleased, he had given me permission to go on this journey. Triou believed that I was necessary to this journey. I only ask for the location. I will do the rest.” He clenched his hands to keep the shaking that had begun throughout his body down and kept his eyes on Krakge.

Triou stepped forward and stood beside the Dwarf King. “The lad has courage. You cannot fault him that. He doesn’t know what awaits him, yet he still wishes to go.”

Krakge ignored the wizard and beckoned Merion closer. “Listen, Your Highness, No disrespect meant, but what guards the Fay-Ha is a Dragon. She is cruel and unkind and I barely escaped with me life when I placed the sword inside of her cave. But, if you still wish to find it, I’ll send me daughter and Draik with ye. Me Daughter knows the place it is because she is to rule over the barony of her grandfather, as my son will rule over the dwarves of this realm. Draik shall accompany her, more or less, but he can prove another fighter for the trail there. But you must understand that only you may face the Dragon. No one else may. Will you go?”

“Yes. I will go.” Merion answered with nay a pause.

Krakge looked to Triou and sighed. “Well, I cannot go against the lad. If he wishes to go, he may go. Tizrel, you will go with him?”

“Of course, father. I would be delighted.” She flashed Merion a smile that caused him to blush lightly.

Artraou noticed his expression and whispered to Dilare. “If I hadn’t been around so many lovesick fools, I’d be pressed to believe that our young prince might like the Dwarf King’s daughter.”

Dilare smiled and nodded. “Aye, as would I.”

Merion had moved back to his seat to finish his supper and had overheard their conversation. He was about to say something to the negative of what they assumed, but Tizrel had chosen that moment to meet his eyes and felt his objection die in his throat.

Chapter 6: Esmirelia

“So, how far is this dragons cave?” Merion asked Tizrel.

They were in the great hall, preparing for their trip. Servants bustled around all over the place, and Krakge was watching with interest as his daughter and Merion, with his friends, gathered the items they’d need for the trek.

Tizrel pulled on her knapsack and looked at Merion. “It is about three days from here. About one day will be spent just climbing the mountain. But not to worry, there are places to rest along the trail.”

“I don’t think he was worried about the length for his endurance.” Artraou said with a grin.

Merion looked up at him, and seeing his grin, was about to retort when Dilare came over.

“Are you two prepared? Artraou, stop teasing him. He hasn’t been around as much as you my friend.”

Artraou shrugged. “I know that Dilare. But if he’s going to be so obvious…”

“Then let him be obvious.” Tirmer said stepping near the group.

Triou cleared his throat so that he could catch everyone’s attention. When they all stopped, and after Dilare had calmed Bren down, he spoke. “Well, my friends. It seems that it is time for you to leave. I wish you all luck, and hopefully this first weapon will help you on your quest for the others.”

“Others?” Dilare snapped, she stood and moved over to just in front of the wizard. “You never said anything about us needing any other weapons.”

“How else would you defeat a hoard of undead, demons and necromancers who can control dragons and elements?” Triou challenged.

“I… We’ll… Fine!” She turned and stormed over to the front door of the palace and leaned against the wall. She scowled at Triou with enough ferocity that one would be pressed to believe that looks could kill.

Merion watched as Artraou shook his head in mirth and went over to her in hopes to calm her temper. He then turned to Tizrel and Draik. “Ready?”

Draik shouldered his hammer and nodded. “Aye lad, I be born ready.”

“Good. Lets go.” Merion said cheerfully. He moved to the palace door and looked back to say goodbye to the King and Triou.

Only Krakge stood there.

Unfinished due to major Writing Block that lasted a year… But that time, I forgot where I was headed with this tale. >.<

Begun January 2003, ‘finished’ April 2003.