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Authors: Elaina J Davidson

Tags: #fantasy, #dark fantasy, #epic fantasy, #paranomal, #realm travel

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BOOK: The Nemisin Star
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Twenty-six
years ago he and Belun reached an understanding, and both trust and
true friendship was born that day. Belun fought Margus then, he
would no doubt want to do so now.

Likewise!
Besides, I hear we are about to rehash an old tale. I never was
done the first time.

Instead of
losing his tenuous hold on good humour, Torrullin joked, “Seems I
wasn’t either!”

Belun neighed
his appreciation and paced the carpet to the forefront of the
gathered.
Let us get him this time, shall we?
He sat
carefully and gazed belligerently around him.
Have you never
seen a Centuar?
He gestured at the two Dragons.
And, pray
tell, what exactly are these?

Phet burst out
laughing.

Caltian’s
eyebrows rocketed upward.

“Kallanon,
Belun,” Torrullin smiled. “Now apologise.”

Me?
Apologise? Huh!
But he grinned and bowed politely to the
Dragons, who inclined their heads.

Taranis crept
up behind the Centuar and tapped him on the shoulder. Belun reared
like an uncoiling spring, an intimidating phenomenon, and then
froze.

My lord! I
nearly … phew.
He sat.

Taranis
laughed and smacked him playfully on the hindquarters. “Ah, Belun,
you have a way about you. It is good to see you; you have been
sorely missed.”

Thank you,
my lord. This little altercation, wild horses could not keep me
away!
Belun laughed uproariously at his own joke.

“Aaru,
Torrullin, we will have to muzzle him.” Taranis shook his head and
stepped onto the dais to stand beside his son. Saska was quiet on
the other side, but she sent Belun a wink, and he touched his heart
theatrically. They were old friends, and had been Guardians
together in the Dome before her marriage to Torrullin.

Still smiling
and shedding years from yesterday’s appearance, Torrullin lifted
his hand. When he had silence he was serious. He had not summoned
the gathered, but they did in the event save him the trouble; all
the main players were in attendance.

It was time to
address them.

“You have come
because you heard ill tidings and the mode of our return yesterday
will have fuelled all manner of rumour. Here are the facts. First,
the Valleur Dragon is no more.” He lifted his tunic to present his
bare and unmarked chest. “From this day the ceremony regarding the
passing of the Dragon is obsolete and will be removed from the
inauguration of Vallorins.” He dropped his tunic. “The Oracles will
be updated to include the tale, the existence of our Valleur
brethren in the Forbidden Zone, their tale, and the new manner of
crowning a Vallorin.”

There was only
silence.

“Some of you
may wish to organise a parting ritual and we shall discuss it, but
not today, not too soon. There are other concerns now. The rumours
are true. The Darak Or, Margus, of twenty-six years ago has indeed
risen. Quiet! This is no time to panic. We must be sensible,
logical and calm. Margus was defeated, but I underestimated his
will and genius. I assumed I conquered essence as well as form, but
that is not so.”

Torrullin was
quiet then, falling into the deeper silence of the Throne-room. It
was time to unmask someone precious to him. He lifted his gaze to
Tristamil.

“Tris, please
join me on the dais.”

Tristamil
glanced at Skye beside him. He said something to her, waited a beat
for her to nod, and made his way forward. On the dais, he murmured,
“You have no need to tell them everything.”

Torrullin gave
a wry grimace. “Then how do I explain it?”

“They probably
already know,” Taranis muttered.

Torrullin
waited until Tristamil took up position on Saska’s other side.
“Margus hid his essence in the one place I had no idea existed. He
hid in the unborn form of the son I did not recognise until moments
before his birth.”

The silence
remained unbroken. Taranis was right; they knew.

“For Margus,
this ploy amounts to ultimate revenge. He has taken my son.”
Torrullin was expressionless and ignored sympathy from the floor.
“It is the Valleur way to have a witness present at destruction,
but that course was simply too dangerous the day in the Corridor,
and now we pay. Yes, my son Tymall is finally revealed. I can offer
no apology to set my lack of judgement and action to rights, but
know the guilt I suffer can never be atoned.”

He paused when
a number of guests elbowed their way from the Throne-room, probably
en route to the next available ship off this potentially unsafe
world. He decided to address that issue first.

“For some of
you here, this is not your fight and no one expects you to
participate. If any are able to leave Valaris, do so, but I ask
that you go calmly. Please do not spread panic among those who have
no choice but to remain. Go now with our blessing.”

More moved to
the exit and Torrullin waited until they were clear and all
movement had ceased within the chamber.

“We are
fortunate in that we have been on war footing for months and,
although we expected a different enemy, it will be no hardship to
sharpen our wits to another.” He paused again to move to the edge
of the dais.

Torrullin’s
eyes were bleak. “Tymall can never be Vallorin. Tymall cannot be
redeemed. I hereby revoke his Valla status.” In the continuing
silence he glanced at Tristamil. “I have an heir, but I shall not
declare him this day. He deserves better.”

Tristamil
lifted grey eyes to Skye. It would not now be easy for them.

“I have no
time for formalities, but know my mind on my sons. One is no longer
welcome among the Valleur and the other is my heir. And if you ask
how you discern the difference between them, if you think Tymall
may use identical features to fool, I tell you now that you will
know. Not only in carriage, in behaviour, in their eyes, but there
is a physical weapon to set them apart. Tristamil carries a blue
sword and the other wields a green blade.”

Tristamil drew
the sword in question into view. The blue metal was
unmistakable.

“Quilla, I ask
that the Q’lin’la commence a warning programme.”

Quilla
nodded.

“Camot,
station your troops in an encompassing grid and make the
concentration strong. Warn them to be unobtrusive; they are to
allay fears, not stir it up by their presence.”

Camot
bowed.

“David …”
David was the mayor of Galilan, and the mayors of Gasmoor, Luan,
Farinwood and Actar were also in attendance. “You and your
colleagues are well aware of the past situation, and while it may
not be the same this time, you know best the necessary
preventions.”

The five
mayors nodded sombrely.

Torrullin
addressed his Valleur. “Twenty-six years ago our greatest
disadvantage was lack of communication. We need the best Valleur
communicators in all those areas Valarian sorcerers have not had
opportunity to set up in, and to aid those still at this time
untrained. In this you will work closely with David and his team.
Do not tell me we do not countenance mindspeak.”

Pretora bowed
formally on behalf of the Elders.

Torrullin
paced, thinking, and stopped. He glanced at Kismet. “Is the
traveller still at the Tower?”

“No, Lord
Vallorin, it is locked away at Two Town spaceport.”

“Good,”
Torrullin murmured. “Matt …”

“I’m not going
anywhere,” Matt said.

Torrullin
found him by voice and fixed a stare on him. He ignored the
presence of Cat nearby. “I need you to check it, in the event
certain things come to a head.”

Matt pursed
his lips and said nothing. Cat whispered something and he glanced
angrily at her.

“Gren, what is
the status of the Dome?”

Gren scratched
his head, “After Bartholamu commandeered it, it winked out, but it
can be recalled, particularly now that Lord Taranis is among
us.”

“Excellent. I
need you to liaise with David and Pretora about evacuees.”

The chamber
was again silent.

Evacuees.
Prepare for the unforeseen.

“One more
thing,” Torrullin murmured into that silence. “Saska has returned
to us, and not merely as my wife. I sense your uncertainty, but she
is welcome, as she ever was. She may speak for herself.”

Saska came
forward. They did not look at each other.

She stood at
the edge of the dais picking out familiar faces. “I did not want to
leave and today I wish I at least said goodbye. I am sorry.”

“It’s fine, my
Lady,” someone murmured. “I think we all understand the
reasons.”

She did not
see him, but felt her husband’s tension behind her.

“Thank you,”
she said, and moved on. “I return to you as the new Lady of Life.”
She held up a hand. “This is a tale that must await the right time.
All I need to say now is that no matter how much we lose in the
near future, Life will arise again.” She smiled and no one doubted.
A sense of eternal optimism infused the chamber and it was part of
her gift. “I need your trust for my task to be made easier. Trust
that evil deeds will pass and after the blackest hour Life and
Light will arise anew and all will be well.”

As she turned
away, husband and wife were facing each other.

“It will not
come to pass,” Torrullin said.

“This is your
home and these are the spaces and people you love and hold close.
We shall see what exactly comes to pass.”

He forced
himself past her. “Go now to your tasks and forgive my behaviour
yesterday.”

Many smiles
were offered and the room gradually cleared until only a few
remained. Torrullin stepped off the dais and made his way to the
two Dragons.

The news had
been shared. Torrullin was home. Those who survived the destruction
on Atrudis were home.

None of it
equalled peace.

Chapter
3

 

Hearth stones
are home

~Awl

 

 

The Keep

 


I
s it
being home that allows one to find sanity again?” Taranis pondered,
sitting on the dais edge with legs stretched.

Vannis
approached and sat. “This is what we hold dear. This is our
civilised nature.” He watched Torrullin with the Kallanon. “He did
well. No panic, not too much said.”

“More and more
the diplomat, yes.”

“They were
together last night,” Vannis murmured.

Taranis
studied the floor. “In the same space only.”

“Has he told
you what she offered him?”

“No. And I
dare not ask.”

“It is good to
be back. Despite Raken, it is good,” Vannis said, and they smiled
at each other.

Raken was
murdered to keep the secret of the Dragon and the Taliesman. Murs
murdered Lycea, the twins’ mother, and two old friends as well for
the same reason. It sparked the mission to the Forbidden Zone. Much
of Vannis’ anger was now cooled, having had a hand in the killing
of the Murs leader, but he was lost without his beloved Raken.

“Lovebirds,”
Matt teased and sank to his haunches before them.

Taranis
grinned. “You have come a long way. I remember the young pilot who
was agog at the sights.”

“Grew up a
bit.”

“Too forward
by far these days,” Torrullin murmured with a wink in Matt’s
direction, and sat beside Taranis.

Saska now
engaged the Dragons and moments later she gestured outside. With
ponderous steps they followed her. She suggested a tour of the
valley to ease their recent tension.

“What did they
have to say?” Vannis asked.

“They needed
pacifying, but Abdiah’s name worked wonders. Apparently they have
been trying to contact her for a while. Her Majesty keeps mum for
some reason.”

They watched
the great creatures halt beside the huge Dragon doors, saw them bow
and pass through.

Tristamil and
Skye were in conversation near the mosaic pool, both clearly
unhappy. Torrullin studied the body language there for a moment and
knew the time approached when he would be forced to interfere.

Cat, Caltian,
and Lowen murmured together. Torrullin noticed how Cat’s gaze
followed Saska as she headed for the Dragon doors.

“Were Cat and
Lowen happy to see you?” he asked of Matt.

“Very,” the
Xenian grinned. “I could do without the questions, though.” The
latter was more serious.

“Welcome to
our world,” Vannis muttered, gaze on Tristamil and Skye. “They are
staying with Skye, I hear.”

“Yes, and love
it there, on the beach and all,” Matt said.

Torrullin
looked at Skye again. The living arrangements were news to him.
“And you, Matt? Luan?”

“Bit far from
the action.”

Torrullin
inclined his head, his gaze briefly amused. “It is a terrible thing
to revisit yesterday’s doom on the same people.”

Vannis said
forcefully, “Granted, but Margus is responsible, not you.”

“As Quilla
said, we shall deal with it,” Taranis said.

Matt’s gaze
divided between the speakers and he frowned.

“Matt?”
Taranis prompted.

“Speak; you
have earned the right,” Torrullin said.

“It occurs to
me you are different today, and I probably am too. It’s as if we
care more. What is changed, really? It’s the same objective.”

“World
hopping,” Taranis murmured.

“I’m
sorry?”

“It happens
when you transport too often. You lose sight of yourself and
others, because you are constantly internalising in order to go
forward. The same happens when one goes away for a long time. Any
Valleur you meet, whether he knows you or not, will know you have
been offworld.”

“And now we
are home and rooted and begin to see ourselves,” Vannis added.

“And begin to
care,” Torrullin said.

BOOK: The Nemisin Star
3.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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