Bryant Reil [Reil - Elf Doubt

Elf Doubt

Bryant Reil

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Order in Disarray

The sun glinted off leafless trees encrusted in hoarfrost but offered little warmth. Though his fingers were numb and the water in his canteen frozen, Herleif didnt mind the cold. What he did mind was the failure in others to follow directions. His current passenger, a young elf woman named Kyla, sat next to him on the drivers seat clutching a large bag woven from bark. For several minutes he tried to ignore her as she inhaled with her lips drawn back over her teeth, and then exhaled in loud bursts as her breath condensed in the air.

What are you doing? he snapped.

Trying to warm up my lips.

Herleif grunted. Just put your scarf back on.

I wont be able to talk if I have a scarf over my mouth.

How unfortunate.

Kyla was an arboreal elf. A tree-dweller. Friendly enough sorts, though their pale skin made them look sickly. This one had shamefully short brown hair that didnt even meet her shoulders. She was dressed in a thick deer-hide coat, only now had her hood pulled back and scarf loosened so it draped across her chest.

Youre a gray elf, right? she asked. Myrkalfar. Ive never seen one before. I have been to Alfheim, though.

Good for you. There hadnt been many Myrkalfar in Alfheim since the fall of King Yridis, but he didnt care to give a history lesson. You should be sitting in the coach.

I know. But Grizzlesnout used to let me sit up here. Where is he, anyway?

He died.

The girls face and chest deflated. Oh. Thats too bad. It wasnt Erebus, was it?

Herleif had lost a few of his own friends and family during the Long Night. Some had disappeared, and whether they had been killed or joined the dark forces, he didnt know. They were unpredictable sorts. He died in his sleep. Peaceful. He doubted that were true, but it was a comfortable lie.

Thats too bad. Good way to do it, though. Peaceful, I mean. My names Kyla.

Herleif nodded. He already knew her name but wasnt going to explain why.

When he didnt reply, she persisted. And yours?

He sighed. Herleif. And you wouldnt be so cold in the coach.

Fine. I can take a hint.

Takes you long enough, he grumbled.

She climbed on top of the carriage and sat above the door, swinging her legs over the side. Would you like me to grab you a blanket? You must be freezing.

Im fine.

She opened her mouth but shut it again. She tossed her bag down through the window before sliding through herself. Herleif waited until he heard the window-latch snap shut before returning his focus to the frozen tracks on the road.

***

Bremnos shook his patched hair free of the clinging mist. His lone eye was aimed at Dassidin, capital city of Osmaris. From his vantage on the hilltop he could see the tops of buildings and nebulous lights as the city awoke, though in this limited visibility he could see none of the Ophilim. They were snake-folk, one-time enemies and now allies of Bremnos own minotaur clan, the Kulgoth.

Heavy footsteps approached from behind. Looks peaceful enough, doesnt it? General Agrimarch, unusually intelligent and perceptive for an ogre, pressed a hand on Bremnos shoulder.

Bremnos nodded. Yes, but sickness often lies beneath the skin. He pinched a wad of silage from the pouch at his belt and held it over his shoulder for Agrimarch, but the ogre didnt take it and Bremnos tucked it into his own cheek.

His hairs stood on end as a loud zap charged the air behind him. He and Agrimarch turned and saluted King Oberon, whose small fairy body sparked with arcs of blue lightning. The King offered a half-salute in return before turning to shout orders for the soldiers to do a sweep of the hill.

Only a thousand soldiers accompanied them. Formidable, but not useful as a show of force against a city as large as Dassidin. This was a diplomatic mission intended to ease tension, despite reports of violence against city leaders. Bremnos thought it foolish for the King to come on this errand, but Oberon was following the advice of the High Seer. Bremnos was annoyed that mystical counsel was replacing tactics and reason.

What is the threat? Bremnos asked Agrimarch before turning back to face the city.

Agrimarch coughed. Small riots, so far. Nothing worth our involvement, but High Seer Imel predicts this place as the spark of a greater insurrection.

Why? Bremnos tried his best to avoid a tone of disdain.

Why did he predict an insurrection? Or why will it start here? The answer to the first, is that its his job to predict such things. The answer to the second, is that the denizens of Dassidin dont believe the official reports on Erebus.

Bremnos nodded. He, too, was disturbed at Oberon and Titanias decision to tell the world they had defeated Erebus. The truth was they didnt know what happened to end the Long Night and were trying to get everyone to return to their normal lives while they sorted it out. But normal life was not a possibility for the many who had lost friends and family.

Agrimarch continued. I requested bringing diplomats rather than soldiers, but Imel insisted. Is he trying to start a war?

You dont have much confidence in the High Seer. Perhaps Agrimarch shared Bremnos concerns. There was some comfort to that.

Should I? He was no help against Erebus. Why should we listen to him now?

Well go in and have some words with whoevers leading this hoo-ha. Bremnos slapped Agrimarch on the shoulder. We may not be diplomats, but youre a civil and convincing sort.

Agrimarch chuckled. Never been called civil. And your face why, itll make em shed their skins.

Bremnos pressed a finger against his empty eye socket. Point taken. Civil, you are not.

There was a clamor of wood and metal as a soldier pushing a wagon of spears slipped on the wet grass and sent his load onto the ground. Bremnos swallowed his silage. Were bringing a lot of weapons for peace talks.

Those arent here on my orders, Agrimarch growled. And for whatever mad reason, Oberon tells me we are to leave them when this is finished.

***

Aethelwyne! Titania snapped. You mustnt sit on the Kings throne.

Titania, currently in her diminutive fairy-sized form, sat on the arm of her own throne. This was Aethelwynes first time sitting with Titania in Hearings, and she was already overstepping her authority.

I apologize, Your Majesty. Aethelwyne, a sprite with fiery hair and wings of red and gold, rose and curtsied before striding to Titanias side and stood with her hands behind her hips. She was a bit smaller than Titania in her natural size, but seemed to prefer her larger form, now looming over the Queen. It was rude to do so, by tradition, but a principle that made little sense and not one Titania cared to enforce.

If you sit to judge in my absence, you may sit in my throne. It is the Seat of the Magistrate. But you shall not be attending to any of the Kings duties while he is away. We may, if you like, bring you your own seat and set it next to the dais.

Aethelwyne offered a gentle bow. No thank you, Your Majesty. I shall wait until I may sit with the proper authority of the Royal Court.

The girl spoke more formally than either the King or Queen.

Titania turned to her Captain of the Court Guard. Very well. Vas, you may open the doors.

Vas was one of the lizard-folk, though raised by gnomes and carried many of their mannerisms. He bowed low and pulled open the heavy double door to the throne room. On the other side of the door stood a line of supplicants seeking answers, or justice, or quite often voicing complaints. They were monitored by the red-bearded dwarf Rust, Master of the Halls, who would have checked them for weapons and poisons before allowing them in queue. First in line stood a gorgon, the snakes on his head writhing.