Page 29 of From the Myths of Kings

“Thank you for sharing your father’s memory with me. I know that it must be difficult to speak about.”

“On the contrary. I think it heals me more to talk about what happened. And if my story helps others process their own loss, I’d gladly speak about my own family’s misfortune.”

Saoirse’s heart warmed at the thought. That was such a positive outlook on tragedy. Some of the pain had dulled in her chest as she turned over Rymir’s words. Instead of fleeing from memories of her mother, she wanted to treasure them. She wanted to make her proud.

They stood in companionable silence for a long time, broken only by the rumble of thunder. Saoirse had entered the Tournament to avenge her mother’s death, to make her murder mean something. But she’d been so wrong. Her mother’s death already meant something. She had inspired King Ohan and his resistance. In some ways, her mother had planted the seeds of rebellion, whether she knew it or not. And she would see Eleyera’s dream fulfilled.

As the floor swayed and the lightning danced through the darkness, Saoirse listened to the lullabies she’d fought so hard to ardently forget.

13

SAOIRSE

“There is a tunnel on the eastern edge of the Under Kingdom. Everything has been arranged. The underguards who will be stationed at the eastern gates are loyal to our cause and will help smuggle us into the city.”

Rymir was pointing to a hand-drawn diagram of the Under Kingdom’s above-ground entrances, the parchment spread across the table for everyone to see. A suspended lantern swung above them, its dim light oscillating across the room while shadows crept forward and then retreated as the ship swayed.

They were crowded around an oak desk in the captain’s quarters of the ship, a small but well-furnished room settled at the back of the stern. A dozen bronze-framed windows provided them with a view of the churning gray sea. Sheets of rain sluiced down the thin panes and the occasional cresting wave slapped the side of the window. A bolt of lightning flashed outside and brightened the small cabin, a crack of thunder rumbling against the hull in pursuit.

It had rained all night, the blustering storm seeping into the next morning. They’d been fortunate enough to have favorable weather sailing out of Caltine Harbor, but it had only been a matter of time before the unruly Southern Sea with its erratic monsoon seasons and unpredictable tropical storms finally pounced on them. Another bolt of lightning snapped across the rain-laden sky like the crack of a celestial Titan’s whip.

“Grivur will be gathering his forces in Aurandel alongside Raven, but the city is heavily guarded,” Rymir continued. His pale eyes seemed to glow as the swinging lantern passed overhead and another flash of lightning skittered across the room. “There are secret tunnels that will bear us toward the palace, but we must stay alert. There are more than just soldiers prowling those depths.”

“We must also acknowledge the possibility of coming across a Wyrm,” Adresin cut in with a grimace. He leaned forward and pointed to one of the secret tunnels, his skin so pale that the blue veins in his wrists looked like they’d been inked on his skin. “Many of you know we’ve been dealing with an infestation for the past several years. Before the Tournament, my regiment was charged with exterminating a particularly vicious pack of beasts. They’re averse to light of any kind, but it would be unwise to march around the Under Kingdom with too many torches given the nature of our mission. If we’re careful, we should be able to avoid encountering one. But we must prepare ourselves for the worst.” The image of a sightless grub-like creature exploding out of a tunnel surfaced in Saoirse’s mind. She’d never seen a Wyrm in the flesh, but she’d heard of how destructive and dangerous they were.

Saoirse watched Tezrus’s expression from the corner of her eye. The old man appeared impassive, but judging from the slight frown tugging at his mouth, he was feeling a wide range of emotions about returning to his homeland. Would the Under Kingdom be just as Tezrus remembered it twenty years ago, or would it now be unrecognizable? She imagined the trauma of his parents’ passing would haunt him with every step he took inside those tunnels, darts of regret resurfacing as he felt their memories in the stone. Echoes of his time with the Order of Elders would also flood back to him, memories so horrible he’d gone so far as to live in the Soundless Oasis to escape them.

Saoirse herself experienced a mixture of emotions that rose and fell within her like the storm outside. How would she feel about stepping foot in Terradrin for the first time knowing her mother’s blood had been spilled there? She hadn’t died in the Under Kingdom itself, but her life and memory were surely infused in the land. Would they meet former radicals of Ballar Grimstone’s resistance? Had any lingering members survived Grivur’s inquisition and been converted to King Ohan’s cause? Would she tolerate such an alliance knowing they’d taken part in her mother’s murder?

“This tunnel will verge on the imperial palace,” Neia said over a clap of thunder. “From there, Tezrus has assured us he can locate the Terradrin Relic using his stone-singing abilities.” She nodded to the old man. She made it sound so simple. A quick journey through the darkness and they’d be back on their ship and heading towards Raj’s Point with Terradrin’s Relic in hand.

“Where is the Relic located?” Saoirse asked, leaning in. Every head at the table swiveled toward Tezrus.

The old man steepled his fingers together, white brows furrowing studiously. “Just as many of the other Relics were, the Moonstone Shard of Terradrin was forgotten over the centuries. As the years passed and the Myths of Old faded, the significance of the Relics was lost to time. The Dagger of Aris was preserved and passed down from generation to generation, but the artifact’s true nature slipped from memory like a forgotten dream until it was nothing but an empty blade. Others, like the Dark Pearl of Elorshin, were lost altogether in the physical sense, unseen for decades. This is what also happened to the Moonstone Shard.”

“The Relic is lost?” came Neia’s voice. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, cocking an eyebrow. “You don’t even know where it is for certain?”

Tezrus shifted in his chair, looking sheepish under her scrutiny. “I’ve studied everything there is to know about the Myths of Old and the history of Revelore, but there are some secrets that were never recorded. That is why they became secrets in the first place.” He paused, surveying the table. A slow, mischievous grin crept along his weathered face. “Fortunately for you, I know exactly where the moonstone shard was hidden. I was the one who hid it.”

“Why didn’t you say that right away?” Neia huffed.

“I had to give some context.” Tezrus winked at Saoirse. “They do call me the Scholar after all. Context is essential.”

With every minute she spent in Tezrus’s presence, Saoirse liked the old man even more. He didn’t wither under Neia’s intensity like most people did. He seemed to relish getting under her skin and using flowery language simply to irk the stern commander. Saoirse found his dramatics endearing.

Tezrus sobered, the mirth in his eyes receding. “When I was an Elder, every waking moment was spent preparing for Selussa’s return. Obviously, one of our chief initiatives was to retrieve the Relics for her while she was imprisoned. While the Elders in Elorshin were busy scheming to release her from the Fretum, the rest of us were determined to collect our kingdoms’ Relics by the time she was set free.

“We discovered the Moonstone Shard ten years into my service to the Order. It had been abandoned in the royal vaults long ago, another nameless treasure in their abundant trove. I was the only stone-singer among the Elders, so its discovery was mostly my responsibility. We didn’t dare invite another outsider to search for it. We couldn’t let the truth of what we searched for get out. But even with my abilities, it took a significant length of time to locate the Relic. The Moonstone Shard has its own unique song due to its enchantment. Its signature is a mere trace compared to other moonstones, so I couldn’t seek it out like others. It almost seemed like it had been warded against discovery. But find it, I did.

“When I began to doubt the truth of the Order and lose my faith in their cause, I started preparing to escape the Under Kingdom. I didn’t know if or when Selussa would ever be set free, but I couldn’t allow the Elders to possess the Terradrin Relic. On the night I left, I stole the Moonstone Shard from the Order temple and hid it. As the only living stone-singer to have touched the Moonstone Shard and learned its signature call, I was the only person who knew its song. Even if they employed the magic of a hundred stone-singers, the Relic’s unique sound was nearly undetectable.”

“That?” Neia paused as if it pained her to admit his genius. “That is brilliant, Tezrus.”

“I hid it within the Garden of Gods, a vast labyrinth of connecting chambers deep within the earth. The Garden of Gods was named due to its immeasurable natural wealth. Each level of the garden is full of organic crystals and gemstones, the likes of which cannot be found anywhere else in Revelore. I hid it within the Garden of Gods for several reasons. For one, the sheer amount of warring stone songs makes it incredibly difficult to single out specific crystals and gems, even for the most seasoned of stone-singers. Pair the dissonant chorus of stone with an extremely unique and nearly undetectable signature, and the odds of the Relic’s discovery are near-impossible.”

“And you’re confident you can find the Moonstone Shard once more?”

“It has been twenty years since I last saw it and my memory is not what it once was. But yes, I believe I can find it. I know its song and I’ll follow its call.”

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