Gaia Town - The Tales of Taranis and Fearghas - 3. Unexpected Turns

Unexpected Turns

Nothing was as his father had told him. Urien locked the door to Cai's room and sealed it with a strong locking spell, one only he could remove. The plan had been to destabilize the warlord system supporting the Andoan mages, and to kill the second-generation hybrid. Only Cai wasn't a hybrid, at least not magic-wise. The Nefarium alloy, known to silence only Fae magic, worked perfectly on him and eliminated any powers Cai had. Finding the boy in the dungeons, beaten half to death, didn't support the idea of him being a dangerous mad man either. Still, when Urien reported his findings back to his father, he and his advisors insisted on killing Cai instantly, an order he had decided to disobey.

Urien suspected there was much more behind this than his father had let on and until he knew more, Cai was under his protection; even if that also meant protecting him from his own people.

He would carry out his own investigations and he knew exactly whom to ask. Only the former lord of the land Lord Aeron Ó Taidhg was living in his own world. He didn't talk, he barely ate, Aeron was a broken man, not the ruthless overconfident warlord Urien had been made to believe. Another lie.

At first he would find out if there was any truth to the rumors that the boys’ mother split the magic between them. That at least would explain why Cai had only Fae magic. When Taranis got there, and he was sure he would arrive soon, if he had only Elven magic as the rumors purported, that would support the claim that the woman had indeed found a safe way to have children, albeit being a first generation Fae-Elf hybrid. Could this be true?

Determined, Urien walked to the end of the hall where he stood before another door. Using the second key on his chain he unlocked it. The large square room behind was sparse; it had whitewashed walls, a small bed on the right, a simple chest for clothes, and a chair under the barred window.

As usual, Aeron Ó Taidhg didn't acknowledge him when he entered the room. He stood in front of a large oil painting, murmuring unintelligibly, his eyes glassy his gaze absent.

Urien knew the painting showed Aeron's deceased siblings. Walking over to stand beside the former lord, he took a closer look. A petite, blonde woman in a simple blue dress that matched her eyes perfectly, sat in a high-back chair. Beside her, with his hand resting on her right shoulder protectively, stood a tall blond man wearing well-worn black leather armor. The resemblance between the siblings was striking. Bending forward slightly, Urien tried to identify the sign riveted on the front of Cillian Ó Taidhg's armor. There were three leather plates adorned with a circular spiral-like pattern in gold, silver, and red. He'd never seen anything like this before.

Something about the painting wasn't right. Urien took several steps back. Then he saw it. The setting was strangely unbalanced; it was as if something was missing, as if the artist hadn't finished his work. Then Urien found the reason. There must have been another person, standing on the other side of the sister. If he squinted, he could even see there had been a hand on her left shoulder. Someone had painted it over rather amateurishly.

"Originally there was another person in this painting. Right?" Urien looked at the man beside him. "And that person was you."

"You should have killed me in the Fāta."

Urien hadn't expected an answer and Aeron's rough voice startled him. The man hadn't spoken to him since the non-aggression pact negotiations over a year ago.

"You forfeited the honor of dying in the arena when you cheated death after you lost the fight with your son, Taranis."

"So you've heard of that." Aeron turned around and looked out of the window. "It wasn't my decision, nor was it my orders, but you are right. I should have finally died that day. Instead, I live still." His hands gripped the edge of the windowsill and he murmured almost inaudibly, "I was too weak, always too weak."

"Finally died?"

"I should have been killed years ago by my brother's hand." He nodded in the direction of the painting and for the first time his brown eyes were clear and awake. "He was strong; he should have been the next warlord, but he had to be noble." Aeron rubbed at his hands as if he wanted to remove dirt. "Cirill lowered his guard in the last second. I couldn't stop in time and crushed his windpipe with a single blow of my fist. Every night in my sleep I hear this sickening noise, see him lying in the sand by my feet, wheezing in the futile attempt to get air into his lungs."

Aeron turned to the painting and shouted, "You should have been the next lord, not me. I never wanted to be a warlord!" Urien feared Aeron was drifting away in his own world again, but then he heard him whisper, "I swore if I ever had sons, I would never force them to kill their own sibling. When my time to step down comes, I would proudly die in the arena by the hand of my firstborn and keep my honor."

Urien had waited for this opportunity. "But you married a Fae-Elf. You weren't supposed to have sons. It is against every law be that of Elves or Fae to have children with them."

"Yes I know, and I accepted it, when it meant I could be with her. I was ready to die by the hand of one of my generals rather than my own firstborn when I'd become too weak to lead my people." He smiled. "I shouldn't have underestimated her. She knew my greatest wish. She studied ancient tomes, experimented with herbs, and she found the solution."

"By dividing the magic between her twins? One to have Elven magic, the other Fae magic?"

"Exactly."

"So it is true."

"She was a genius." Aeron fixed his eyes on Urien. "So why are you here, Lord Urien Maciomhair? My land is yours, so am I. Why are you interested in my sons' magic? They won't come here and demand their heritage, challenge you in the arena. Our firstborn Taranis, albeit an excellent archer, and almost equally skilled in hand-to-hand combat and dual-wielding swordplay, never really wanted to be the next warlord. He preferred to be out in the forest, and Cai isn't a fighter but a healer."

While he was looking at Urien questioningly, Aeron suddenly froze, his mouth open in a silent cry, his eyes glazed over before becoming blank again. Touching the painting with a trembling hand he whispered frantically, "Do you see what I see, Cillian? Wings, powerful wings, and the teeth, sharp pointed teeth. Do you know what he is? Yes, yes, that's right. He will kill me eventually brother and soon, soon…" The rest was only incomprehensible mumble.

***

Fearghas jumped over a small creek, dodging some low hanging branches with Taranis right beside him. He would have enjoyed running through the Duranic Forest if they hadn’t been heading for Aranthe, home of the Elven King on Bauritish.

'When did you last see him?'

"Grandfather? Hours before we met for the first time."

'But you were so angry back then.'

"I was furious. Mother had only just passed away and all Ailill had to say was that I had to honor her decision to move on into the next realm. My great-grandfather–"

'The king?'

"– wanted me to stay in Aranthe, but I couldn't. At that time I felt betrayed by everyone, by Mother, by Mother's family, by my father, and I missed Cai."

'Which is understandable. You were forced to leave your home, your twin, and then the last link to the life you knew – your mother - left you too.'

"At that time I only saw it from my perspective, not from hers."

'And now?'

"I know Mother was suffering from having to choose between Father and me. When I asked her how she could still love him she said he was never meant to be warlord, his brother was. Father's spirit broke the day he was forced to kill my uncle and watch the murder of his sister. Anyway, back then I felt Mother chose death over me and that was a disturbing thought."

'You thought she'd abandoned you.'

"Me and Cai. But then I found you."

'Then I found you. You're lucky. You would be lost without me.'

Taranis laughed. "Then you found me." He paused. "Maybe I would."

For a while they ran silently beside each other, Fear battling with himself until he finally stopped.

'Taranis, wait.'

"What? Why? It isn't far anymore, we're approaching the border as we speak."

'I know. We have been watched for a while now.'

"Of course we have, we’re close to Aranthe's border. You don't need to worry, Fear. You're safe."

'That is where you are wrong. I won't go any further. I will wait here for your return.'

"What? This isn't Gaia Town where the guards shoot you because they think you are a rabid dog. These are Elven sentinels, they honor life, they don't kill randomly."

'I am not welcome in Aranthe.'

Seemingly out of nowhere, two elves appeared between the trees and blocked their way. One immediately aimed an arrow at Fearghas. The other made a little bow to Taranis and lifted his hand in greeting.

"Taranis. Welcome to Aranthe. Prince Ailill told us to expect you." Then he gestured at Fearghas and snapped his fingers. "Kill it."

"Oran?" The brief time it took Taranis to comprehend the order the arrow had already left the bow. Without thinking he flicked his hand and just before it hit Fear, the arrow turned into a crooked twig, leaves and all. It smacked the wolf into the side but didn't hurt him.

"How dare you attack my companion!" With both his swords drawn, Taranis stepped protectively in front of his wolf.

Growling, and baring his teeth, Fear slowly backed away.

"Don't you know what this is? How can you call this your companion? It's an abomination, neither man nor animal, tr–"

"Stop!"

"It can't enter Aranthe. It–"

"I said stop!" Taranis pointed the sword in his left hand at the elf in front of him. "He is not my enemy Oran, I trust him with my life and that is all you have to know."

"He's a Wolfener! They are–"

From the corner of his eye Taranis saw the sentinel had another arrow ready, aiming at Fear. Lifting his sword until its tip touched Oran's throat he said, "We are still outside of Aranthe's premises. Call your sentinel back Oran, now. If he kills Fearghas; I kill you, even if you are Grandfather's consort."

They stared into each other's eyes and finally the elf nodded and the sentinel lowered his bow.

"I can't let you pass when you insist on bringing him."

"I understand. Tell my grandfather to come and see me then, I'll wait for him there under the beech tree. Come on, Fear."

Taranis turned his back to Oran, making sure to stand between Fearghas and the sentinel.

"You can't order Prince Ailill to come out to you and he certainly won't go near that," Oran called after him.

Without turning around Taranis answered, "No, I can't order Prince Ailill, but I can ask my grandfather to come and meet me and my friend."

'Maybe I should leave, Taranis.'

"If you leave now they'll track you down and shoot you. You won't stand a chance against Oran." Taranis smirked. "He is almost as good as I am with the bow."

'Taranis. There are things I never told you.'

"I know. I waited for you to tell me when you're ready."

'Maybe I waited too long. What do you know about Wolfeners?'

"Not much. Some say the Fae created them to be their servants."

Our ancestors lived in a small village close to a gathering place of the Fae. One day the mayor and some of his confidants managed to do something that angered the Fae king himself. Nobody knows what it was and rumors are the Fae provoked this. Anyway, the king threatened to annihilate the whole village and in the end, we became more or less serfs of the Fae. They gave us some minor powers so that we could do all the menial tasks for them, including guarding his realm. As we were created from humans, we weren't as strong and vigilant as the Fae king wanted his guards to be. That's why he changed some of us so we could merge with wolf spirits. Every time one of us is born with the birthmark in the shape of a wolf paw, he or she will be able to shift into a wolf. If both parents bear the mark, the children are especially strong. They are always requested by the Fae King himself; he uses them as warriors–'

"And as assassins," came a voice from behind them.

Taranis jerked and looked over his shoulder. "Grandfather! I didn't hear you coming."

"Taranis. My consort tells me you want to bring a Wolfener to Aranthe."

"He is my friend Grandfather, my companion." Taranis sank his hands in Fearghas' fur protectively. "I vouch for him, if that is what it takes for you to allow him to accompany me."

Ailill nodded at Taranis. "I see." He turned to Fearghas. "What is your name, Wolfener?"

"Fearghas, Prince Ailill."

"And are you an assassin, Fearghas?"

'Yes.'

"And you have a target?"

'Yes.'

"Who is your target, Fearghas?"

'Taranis.'