Page 271 of Of Empires and Dust

Ara, the Ephorí of Lunithír, stepped forwards, her crimson and gold robes flowing elegantly after her. The elf was possibly the most beautiful living creature Ella had ever laid eyes on. “Aeson Virandr has sailed for Valtara to aid the rebellion there. Calen Bryer’s return is expected shortly. But now, we would escort you to meet with King Galdra, the Golden Stag, rulerof the elven kingdom of Lunithír. Even now our forces march alongside those of the Draleid to aid the villages of western Illyanara. A new dawn emerges, Aryana Torval, and we would like to witness it side by side.”

The Ephorí of Ardurän threw a sideways glance at Ara, barely a flash of an instant, before also stepping forwards and spinning tails of gold and silver about Queen Uthrían. These were their usual theatrics, the only variance being which one spoke first.

On all other occasions, Ithilin, the Ephorí for Vaelen, had stayed reasonably quiet. With Queen Tessara marching with Calen’s army, Ithilin’s ability to boast and brag was severely diminished – or so Ella had thought. But this day, Ithilin followed the other Ephorí. The elder Ephorí stood in silence for a moment before inclining her head to Aryana. “In the time before the Blodvar ended, my kind had a saying. ‘I’ldryr viel asatar. I sanvîr viel baralun.’”

“In fire we are forged. In blood we are tempered.”

Ella wasn’t the only one surprised when Aryana translated the words. Therin gave an impressed downturn of his lips, his eyes widening, while Chora laughed.

Both Ara and the Ardurän Ephorí, Liritháin, gave only blank stares, but Ithilin smiled. “You speak the Old Tongue?”

Aryana shook her head. “Fragments. Passed down from my father’s father and so on. That’s a saying my family has lived by. You never know who you are until you’ve been tested and you’ve come out the other side.”

“And who are you, Aryana Torval?” Ithilin stared into the woman’s eyes, suddenly seeming younger and taller.

“Someone who is done with living under the boot of another. Someone who is done hiding.”

“We have much in common then. My queen, Tessara Vaelen Alumír, will not be in the hall to welcome you. For she too is tired of hiding, and as we speak, she marches with theDraleid’s commanders along with five thousand of Vaelen’s finest warriors. There is a human saying my mother passed down to me. We have a similar saying in the Old Tongue that doesn’t quite capture the simplicity as well as yours. ‘Actions speak louder than words.’”

The glance that Ithilin threw in the direction of the other two Ephorí was a subtle one, but one that Ella didn’t miss.

The plateau emptied, and the procession marched towards the enormous white structure know as Mythníril. Ella had been inside its walls many times over the past few days, and yet she still could not comprehend how such a place had ever been built. As they walked, the Ephorí took their turns regaling Aryana with tales of their history and that of the various buildings that jutted up across the city.

At one point, as Ara and Liritháin argued over something for which Ella had absolutely no concern whatsoever, she turned to find Aryana Torval walking beside her, gaze fixed on Faenir.

“Kin of the Draleid.” She puffed out her bottom lip then lifted her gaze. “Surely you are more than that?”

“We can’t control what we are in the eyes of others,” Ella responded with a shrug. The truth was she didn’t have two fucks to rub together when it came to how the Ephorí described her.

“Too true. Your mother or your father?”

Ella raised a curious eyebrow.

“Who taught you that? I don’t doubt your wisdom, but that’s too profound a sentence to not have been passed down.”

“My mother. She wasn’t the kind to care what others thought.”

“A woman after my own heart. So, your brother rides a dragon? I’m assuming it’s not your son. Definitely not your father, given how young I’ve heard he is.”

“Brother.”

“Well, sister of the Draleid, I’m about to go into a room where people who think they’re better than me are going to tell me whatever they think I need to hear in the hopes that I will commit the lives of my people, and my own, to their cause. I am well aware that I mean very little to them outside of any military advantage I might grant them or as a trophy for their shelves, judging by how they argue now over the outcome of a battle that happened over five hundred years ago. So tell me, before anyone else does, what is your brother like, and why should I fight for him instead of securing my own lands and keeping to myself?”

Ella couldn’t help but choke back a laugh. Whoever had delivered the report on Aryana deserved a bag full of gold and a higher position. “Would you believe a word I said?”

“I’m not sure yet. It depends on what your eyes tell me.”

“Calen was a sweet boy growing up. A handful and a pain, but he was sweet. He always gave me the first bowl at supper, always teased me but at the same time would leave the last slice of bread in case I was hungry. He sang a lot when he thought nobody was listening. The last few years have bled the sweetness from him. He’s not that boy anymore. But I’m damn proud of the man he’s become. He’s not like these fools.” She inclined her head towards Liritháin and Ara, who still argued up ahead. “I could stand here and tell you a hundred different things, but the honest truth is I’d be lying. I’ve not seen much of Calen since I left our home, since the empire slaughtered our parents. But when Lorian armies marched on this city, Calen fought in the thick of it. And when the Dragonguard tried to burn this place to the ground, he and Valerys refused to let that happen. There were three of them. Each twice as large as Valerys.” Ella laughed, shaking her head at her brother’s stupidity. “The pair of them just flew straight at them. They didn’t care what happened to themselves as long as they could buy time for those of us fighting in the city. So I don’t know what that says, but one thing I canguarantee you is if you fight for Calen – and even if you don’t – he will die for you, because that’s just who he is.”

“Sounds like quite a man.”

“He is.”And I miss him.Ella clenched her jaw as the words echoed in her mind. Beside her, Faenir stopped. The wolfpine raised his head, ears and tail pricking. He heard something.

The crack of wings sounded in the sky, followed by a shrieking roar.

The procession stopped halfway across a white stone bridge, the many murmurs only half-swallowed by the waterfalls cascading over the edge of a cliff to the left. Aryana Torval’s men gasped, hands pointing towards the sky. For a second, Ella’s heart stopped beating as she waited for Valerys to drop through the clouds and sweep overhead.

But instead, Varthear emerged from the blanket of white above, brilliant blue scales gleaming. The mighty dragon wrapped her wings close and dropped like a stone, looking as though she might collide with the bridge, until she unfurled those massive red sails and tore forwards with impossible speed.

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