Page 51 of The Truth

“Something has changed, Eluna. Before, Fane snapped and snarled like a hound, but I felt as though perhaps he simply felt as Eltoar does – tired of the politics, weary from the councils’ imposing hand. I didn’t blame him, though I found no love for him. But in this past year, since not long after Orinhale…” Alvira twisted the emerald ring that sat upon her finger, her gaze lingering on the light trapped within. “There is word that he travelled to Mar Dorul. One of Ah’aela’s scouts spotted him in Balanthír near the Naiwell Woods.”

“It is not forbidden to travel there.”

“No… no, it is not. But something has changed, Eluna. Two days ago, a preacher was found in Al’Nasla, spreading the word of Efialtír, of his second coming, of salvation. And he was not the first. With the Blood Moon approaching, these are ill omens.”

Eluna clasped her hands behind her back and walked to the opening of the cave, stopping just short of the ward’s perimeter. “Why only me? If you truly believe that our cause is so dire, why not speak to Eltoar, to Chora, Atara, Tarast, Kollna, Thalumas, Aeson – any of them? Alvira, if what you fear is true, then we cannot do this alone.”

“Eltoar would not have ears for it… He entertains Fane’s ramblings, though he assures me there is nothing to them. Every time we speak we argue. He thinks I am paranoid, thinks I’m seeing blades in the shadows. If I were to tell him of this plan, he would say I had lost my mind.”

The truth of the words cut through Alvira like a knife. She loved Eltoar with all her heart, admired everything about him – his nobility, his kindness, his fire. There was not a world in which he would turn his back on her, but neither did she believe he would listen to a word that left her lips on this matter.

Eluna nodded absently, and Alvira could see the elf staring at her out of the corner of her eye. She knew the love Alvira held for Eltoar, knew the complications in everything between them. “You should speak to him, Alvira. He is your greatest ally.”

Alvira shook her head gently. “Of all my duties, the preservation of the Draleid is paramount. What we do now we do from necessity, but it should have been done centuries ago. We must protect the eggs if the worst were to ever happen. I trust Eltoar with my life, but he is too close to Fane. The mage worms into people’s minds, it is what he does. He does not need to turn Eltoar to his cause to pry thoughts from his lips. It is better that there are no thoughts to pry. Which is why I do not speak to Chora, or to Tarast, or the others. The more who know of what we do, of where we are to keep these eggs, the less protected they are. A whisper in the wind could be the end of everything.”

“You will not bear this weight alone, I promise you.” Eluna took Alvira’s hands in her own. “I will always be there.”

“I only wish that I need not send you away.” Alvira laughed, a dark laugh that pricked at her heart. “It is the way of the world. In the time where I most need you at my side, I must cast you from my life.”

“It is the safest way. If this is to have any merit, none must suspect it.”

Alvira nodded. “When enough have been moved to Vindakur, I will speak to Kollna. I trust her almost as I do you. And there are few with knowledge of runecraft to match hers. Perhaps she can place a safeguard to protect from the things we cannot see.”

Alvira pulled away and dropped to her haunches, brushing her fingers through the dirt on the cave’s floor as she looked out at Vyldrar curled in the snowfall. “The darkest thing of this all is that I pray Eltoar is right. Every night I give prayers to Heraya and Elyara and Varyn. I beg of them to make it so that I have lost my mind. That I see blades in the shadows where there is only dust. I pray that we do this and that I can pass it on to the next Archon – a safeguard for the dragons so that even the gods could not scour them from the world. Is that not madness in itself? To pray for insanity?”

Alvira laughed at that, at the absurdity of it, at the truth of it. “All I’ve ever wanted, Eluna, was to keep this world safe. To look at Epheria when my time comes to an end and feel like I left it in a better place than when I came to it.”

“Is that not what we all want?” Eluna asked, sitting on the ground with Alvira.

“Perhaps…” The corner of her mouth lifted in a momentary smile. “Every waking hour is arguing with the council and then with Eltoar and then with life itself. I am the cog that turns not of my own volition but of necessity. The Archon is the balance between things. I wish Eltoar could see that. I wish he could see how life eats away at me. I do not do as I do for the want of it. If I do not keep the balance, everything would fall. The Draleid cannot simply do as we wish just because we hold dragonfire in our palms. That thought alone is why Varyn took the fire from the dragons, why he created the bond – balance. If we fall into that same pattern, what is the point of the bond at all? What need has Varyn for Draleid when we would cast dragonfire as easily as the dragons themselves.”

“Truer words you have not spoken. And that is why you are my Archon always. Your heart, Alvira, it is a heart without equal.”

“It is a heart that is bleeding… No matter what I do, people die. Every choice I make is not about life or death but about whose life and whose death. Nothing I say or do matters, people die either way.” She let out a long, much-needed sigh. “The weight of it is unbearable. I’m tired, Eluna. I’m so tired.”

Eluna rested her hand on Alvira’s knee and squeezed. Not a word left her lips, but there were no words that would have remedied the ache in Alvira’s heart.

They sat there in silence watching the snow fall, steam rising from Vyldrar and Suínvír as the warmth of their bodies melted the blankets of snow that fell upon them.

Alvira let out a heavy sigh.

“It is time,” she said, lifting herself to her feet. “Sitting here only delays what must be done.”

Eluna rose beside her, and for the first time Alvira saw the sadness etched into her friend’s face. They would see very little of each other for a long time. For a moment Alvira doubted her plan. At a time when she was most in need of allies, she was sending one of her closest away.

But this was never about her, never about the survival of Alvira Serris or even The Order itself. It was about the survival of her kind, of the Draleid and of the dragons. If her life was the price, she would pay it, as would Vyldrar. Their purpose was greater than themselves.

She rested a hand on Eluna’s shoulder. “We need to make this look believable.”

“Just not the face.” Eluna gave Alvira as broad a smile as she had seen in years.

“I make no promises.”

Chapter Sixteen

Two Lies and a Truth

City of Ilnaen – Winter, Year 2681 After Doom