Page 21 of Veil of Vasara (Fate of the Five #1)

CHAPTER 21- ELIEL

T he High Priest had been delivering his sermon for near an hour. I sat at the front of the Church, as always, paying dutiful attention to his words. He spoke at length about the gifts of the Gods and the wisdom that comes with trusting in their teachings.

There was, I could admit, power in the unity that came with our Church, just as there was in any form of unity at all. I had long since disregarded any personal belief in such systems, but to all those around me, I was a devout follower of Elemantas and a firm believer in the elemental Gods.

Nine statues, three on the left side, three behind, and three on the right of our altar, depicted the elemental Gods those across Athlion worshipped. Fire, Ice, Air, Water, Earth, Light, Darkness, Thunder, and Wood, or as they were better known by their names in the Elementas texts; Furos, Glacios, Ventos, Aquos, Terros, Luxos, Noxos, Tundros, and Arkos.

We stood and finished the ceremony with our usual words of prayer.

Elementas, Elementas

Guide our waking hours

Bestow on us

Your humble servants

Your divine powers

The strength of Furos

The will of such flame

The courage of Tundros

The way of the brave

The justice of Glacios

Of clear and sharp mind

The freedom of Ventos

To create and decide

The wisdom of Terros

Of perspective true honed

The spirit of Aquos

Those emotions we own

The tranquillity of Arkos

A transcendent peace

For Luxos, our life

Our health and vitality

And for Noxos

A way through the darkest of deeds

A righteous end

Of honour

Of glory

Elementas, Elementas

Most of the Gods were gendered in their depiction. Ventos, Terros, and Aquos were female. Tundros, Arkos, Furos, and Glacios were male. But the remaining two – Luxos and Noxos, their depiction was constantly changing. After all, no-one had reportedly seen them, or been able to ascertain their appearance.

I did not believe anyone had seen the Gods at all, only used such stories to claim the attention of others.

I glanced up at the statue of Noxos as we recited the words. If I were a pious man, it would be Noxos I prayed to now. Noxos, I prayed to for a righteous end to the maelstrom fast approaching us. Noxos, who I would pray to for an end to those sorcerers who were once again, preparing to drown our Kingdoms in blood.

I did not think Noxos would listen. He was the God of Darkness, would it not delight him to watch such affairs unfold?

Perhaps the best I could do was pray to him for a quick death.

Better still, not to waste my time on prayer. I would not wait for a mythical being to provide me with a solution. It was my task, and my task alone, to find one.

This evening, I was to meet with the Jurasan King.

I had been surprised to learn from Jarian, that my letter had not only been received, but that the King had also written us a reply. There was, however, no text included, simply a date, a time, and a place. A point where the borders of Vasara and Jurasa met, along a river called Liquanon.

It was, however, better known by its alias – River of Blood. It had been a place of much conflict and battle during the Wielders' War, and since. Several people, humans and sorcerers, had met their end there, and it was said the river ran dark red for weeks after each fight.

Jarian had argued and pleaded his case substantially for near an hour regarding my going there. The Councilmen had been no better. All but Trenton had expressed a great reluctance at my attendance, who had suggested I should attend only on the condition that a full armed guard accompany me.

I was, of course, not oblivious to the dangers of an audience with the Jurasan King, nor was I keen to allow myself to be exposed so easily. However, the nature of our conversation was discreet, and bringing a fully armed guard which consisted of twenty or more men, would not facilitate such a discussion. It was well known and documented, that dealing with the Jurasan King, via letters, his emissaries, and staff, was an unpleasant experience, and that gathering information from him was near impossible. It was unlikely, therefore, that such an extensive and obvious show of force would encourage him to loosen his lips.

On the way out of the Church, Fargreaves approached me.

“Your Highness, are you still intent on travelling as we discussed?”

I glanced at him and quickened my pace. “Yes, Fargreaves, I am.”

“He will not agree, Sir.”

I stood still in the centre of the hallway and took a deep breath. “He can be persuaded.”

Another voice from behind me, Trenton’s voice. “I would not be so confident of that, Your Highness. His cantankerous nature is…overwhelming. We have little time remaining to find others to accompany you and—"

I turned around. Trenton stopped speaking the moment I looked at him.

“He will be coming.”

Trenton and Fargreaves glanced at one another, silently communicating their doubts about my statement.

Trenton smiled, more grimaced as he replied. “Your Highness, I do not think he is in a fit state to come…to go, anywhere.”

“I will be the judge of that.” Trenton’s insistence was beginning to drain me.

Trenton licked his lips slightly. “He…” He stopped to think and resumed. “It requires little more than a glance at the man to come to that conclusion.”

Fargreaves added. “He cannot protect you, Your Highness.”

“It is not his protection I am in need of. That will be all gentlemen.”

I continued down the hallway, my shoes striking the marbled white floor, without waiting for their answers. I had little care for them anyhow.

I was on my way to see the man who I was intent on being my companion.

Elias.

My cousin was currently, indeed, a terrible choice of companion when it came to my personal safety and security. He was, however, without a doubt, the best choice for one particular reason. That his presence would be entirely and wholly unexpected. His temperament and inability to filter the words he spoke ran the risk of being offensive, but they could also be disarming and unsettling. Elias’ attendance would give us the upper hand simply due to the fact that he, for a while now, had been universally viewed as a useless fool who posed no danger to anybody, and one who could grate on even the most composed of individuals.

He was not truly a fool. I knew that to be the case, yet I saw no reason to defend him. It had been Elias’ choice to act and present himself to others in such a manner. It was not my responsibility to inform him of the consequences. I was in fact sure, he was aware, and likely glad of them.

If I could not change Elias, then I would utilise him, and even trust him somewhat.

I burst into his room. The two guards who had been accompanying me remained outside Elias’ door. He was sprawled across the bed, entirely naked, save for a rope around his neck with a key attached. I walked over to his curtains and drew them back sharply. He groaned and rolled over to his side, propping himself up on his right elbow holding up his left palm in front of his face. His dark red eyes squinted at me, no doubt struggling to focus. With the amount and quality of alcohol he drank, it was a wonder he was not yet blind.

“Ohhhh. Oh Gods. What…What the fuck,” Elias half mumbled, half spoke to nobody in particular.

“Get dressed,” I said, regarding him with disinterest.

“Eliel?” He dropped his hand and winced as the sunlight struck his face more viciously. His face was contorted in confusion. “What…why are you in my room?”

“You are needed today.”

With great effort, Elias dragged himself up to a seated position, holding his right hand in front of him and wagging his index finger from left to right, in a gesture of refusal.

“No. No Eliel. I am not involved in this Kingly shit. That’s the way we both like it, isn’t it?” He leant over to his bedside table and began pouring himself a drink.

“I need you today,” I said, more truthfully.

Elias chuckled into his glass. “What could I possibly be useful for?” He shook his head. “Oh, I know, would you like my opinion on your potential wives? That” — he swallowed some alcohol— “I can do. Just don’t marry the fucking child. Please.”

I sighed. It was unlike me to do so in front of others, but it was precisely this effect of Elias’ presence I knew would be helpful.

“It has nothing to do with my upcoming marriage. I need you to accompany me somewhere.”

“Me?” He laughed again. “Won’t your advisors spontaneously combust over that suggestion?”

I stepped closer to his wardrobe and began choosing an outfit for him to wear, an outfit that differed from his usual choice of a sparse shirt and loose-fitting pants.

Still facing his poor selection, I replied, “Since when have you concerned yourself with their opinion?”

“I don’t care what they think. But you do.” He answered from behind me.

I pulled out a dark red jacket and threw it at him. “Do I?”

Elias narrowed his eyes on me. They were almost as red as the wine in his glass.

“This. This is why you’re good at this King business.”

“Why is that?” I turned back to his wardrobe.

“You’re a good liar.”

“Am I?”

“Yes Eliel, you are. And you answer every question with a question. Very Kingly of you.”

I selected a pair of dark red pants, the same shade as the jacket, and walked towards him, holding them across my arm.

“I will not lie to you, Elias.”

Elias raised an eyebrow at me. “Like I said, it’s a skill.”

“What could I say to persuade you?”

“Absolutely nothing.” Elias got up and threw the bedsheets off his legs, covering the jacket I had thrown on his bed in the same movement. He strutted past me and walked towards a large chair in the corner of the room, which was straddled with a pile of discarded clothing. He was limping slightly. His pale golden artificial leg shone in the morning light like armour. It was of the finest artisanry. Metal pads the shade of the early morning sun formed a shin, a calf, the front, and back of a thigh. An amber one glistened as a knee, the same hue as the components resting in-between those pieces. I had heard the components provided near identical manoeuvrability as an ordinary leg.

My gaze trained on the contraption as Elias picked up a shirt. At certain angles, the leg glinted silver. In others, pale blue. In some, the ambers bled to red, the gold to bronze. It was a mechanical mirage of ever-shifting colour, intricate and flexible.

He put the shirt on and turned towards me as it went over his neck. “You’ve got plenty of people who would give their right arm for a chance to accompany you.” Elias chuckled at his own choice of words. “Although I think they’d regret offering it so freely.”

“I am aware. But it is you I wish to accompany me.”

“Why, Eliel?” Elias buckled a belt over the waistband of his trousers. “What’s your plan here? And don’t try and tell me that there is no plan, because I know there’s no other reason you’d stoop so low as to come and ask for my assistance.”

Seeing no reason to disguise my intentions, I drew in a breath and spoke. “Yes. There is a plan. But I have not yet disclosed it in its entirety to the others.”

“Seems a bit unwise, doesn’t it?”

“On the contrary, it’s the only thing I am sure of.”

Elias placed his hands on his hips, his back to the window. “What’s the plan then?”

“I’m meeting the Jurasan King.”

Elias raised his eyebrows and was silent for a few moments. “Does the Jurasan King know about that?”

“Yes. In fact, he sent the invitation.”

“The Jurasan King? The Jurasan King personally invited you to visit him? We’re talking about the King, who by all accounts, doesn’t utter a word to anybody. You’re telling me he actually asked to meet you? Of his own free will?”

“He did.”

Elias sank onto the chair, which still had clothes adorning it. “This is about your parents, isn’t it.” His face was turned towards the window. He looked thoughtful, which was a rare expression for him to wear.

“How—"

“Trenton.”

“Of course.”

“He’s a prick that one.”

“He’s a smart man,” I countered.

Elias looked back at me. “Doesn’t make him a good man.”

“Do you believe there are any?”

“Any what?”

“Good men?”

“You don’t?” Elias sounded wary.

“I only know that good men are rarely powerful men.”

“Do you count yourself as an exception then?” He grinned.

“Not necessarily.”

Elias looked startled once more. “Oh, come on. You’re nothing like those men.”

“I never said I was.”

Elias went quiet again.

“Do you?” I asked.

“Do I what?” Elias said.

“Believe there are good men?”

Elias leant forwards in his chair, his elbows resting across his knees as he looked at the ground. “I knew many. So yes, I do.”

“Knew?”

“I suppose the good ones die first,” Elias raised his head.

“Which only leaves the evil.”

“They die as well, Eliel. We all die.” Elias was looking at me intently. “Far too many powerful men use power as an excuse to corrupt them. And they will say they had no choice, that to survive and rule, they had to be cruel. But I think those who are so easily corrupted, who so easily let themselves be cruel, were never really willing to try and be anything other than that. Power is an agent through which the worst of us can reveal our true nature without anyone batting a fucking eyelid.”

Elias stood and placed his boots on. “That’s what I think.”

I was astonished by his sudden philosophical outburst. He walked towards me and slapped me on the shoulder, slightly towering over me. “Good luck with the Jurasan King. I’ve heard he’s an arsehole.” He moved to leave.

“Yes. It’s a wonder he sent his sister here,” I muttered absentmindedly.

Elias stopped near the doorway and turned back around. “His sister?”

“For the Courting Season.” I was perplexed by Elias’ confusion with the subject. “Were you unaware he had one?”

“No. I mean. I knew he had siblings I just didn’t realise...”

“Realise what?”

Elias took a step towards me, his eyes searching the floor. “It doesn’t make sense. After everything we’ve heard about him. His sister, and now this invitation."

“Does that mean you’re interested in accompanying me?” I crossed my arms, playing with the fabric at my elbow.

Elias tapped his finger against his artificial leg repeatedly in thought. “It’s probably an alliance he wants…what with the sorcerers coming to blow us all to smithereens.”

I tutted and looked to the side. “Trenton, I assume.”

“He told me what you had planned for me, Eliel.” He sounded displeased.

“Is there anything he didn’t tell you?”

“Well, he didn’t tell me about this Jurasan King shit.”

I looked to the floor as I spoke, “I will not force you Elias, either to come with me today, or lead our armies. These are my hopes, not my orders.”

He nodded slowly and sincerely. “Good. Because I’m not going to be your General. I’m not.”

“Understood.”

“But…” Elias walked over to his bed and shook his sheets forcefully, re-exposing the jacket I had placed on its edge.

He lifted it up and held it against himself. “I’ll meet this King with you.”

I had saved the worst piece of information until last. “It will be at Liquanon.”

Elias froze and his breathing changed. It brought me no pleasure to remind Elias of anything related to that fateful day, but alas, it had to be done.

“And you… agreed?” His voice had become strained.

“I was unable to disagree.”

“Unable? Write to him for fuck’s sake and tell him you will not go there.”

“But I will.”

Elias pursed his lips together and threw the jacket onto the bed. “He knows Eliel. He knows what that River meant for us, for our people and still he suggested you meet him there. Do you not see?”

“I do. But it will not alter the outcome of the discussion.”

“That couldn’t be further from the truth. He is asking to meet you on what is historically, losing turf for us. It’s a clear insult.”

“Let him believe it matters. It does not matter to me. History can be rewritten.”

“No Eliel, you cannot erase the past as if it never happened. As if this”— he pointed to his leg, his voice had grown darker— “never happened.”

I tilted my head and looked at his leg, then back up. “No. But we can make sure that Liquanon is a place of our victory, as well as our defeat. Starting today.”

Elias rubbed his face with both of his hands. “You know, for somebody who doesn’t believe there are any good men in the world, that’s a ridiculously idealistic way of looking at things.”

“And for someone who believes there are, you seem very ready to give up on them all.”

Elias huffed and regarded me with a weary resignation. “Glacios gifted you with a silver tongue, as well as those eyes huh?”

“Again, I will not order you, it is—"

“No,” Elias interrupted me. “No. I should go back. I always knew one day I’d go back.” He shrugged. “I suppose I thought if I drank enough, and slept enough, I’d make myself forget I ever intended to. But…ha…it seems like life is intent on making me remember recently.”

I waited. I let him have his time to think, to process his upcoming return. I had heard much about that day at Liquanon. Elias and one other man from his troop had been the sole survivors. The other had taken his own life just months after his return. Elias spoke little of it, both of his death, and of that battle. But people knew, people knew what had happened there, what destructive force had shredded apart the skin, bones, and flesh of those present as if it were nothing but the wind.

Elias smacked his lips together in a decisive gesture. “When do we leave?”

I smiled, slowly and unintentionally. “At midday, it will take us hours to ride, and we will be disguised.”

“What’s this for then?” Elias pointed at the dark crimson jacket on his bed.

“For when we arrive.”

“Seems a hassle to me.”

“Be ready and dressed by midday.”

But Elias didn’t even acknowledge I’d spoken. He just turned around, walked over to the bathroom, and shut the door behind him.