Verita - The Guardian of Darkness

8

If the lush green of the countryside had surprised Elanthin, the state of the city pushed her over the edge. Meanwhile, the tremor in her hands had grown stronger with every passing hour as if her body was channeling all its uncertainty into them. Dense greenery on the side of the roads had prevented them from looking at one of Gratia's villages but now, the outline of a settlement, bigger than anything Elanthin had deemed possible on the Plains, rose up in front of them. The carriage speeded over the paved main road of the Gratian capital, allowing them merely quick glimpses of the high-rising buildings to each side.

How is it possible for a settlement to thrive like this?, pondered Elanthin as house after house passed them by. The citizens of Gratia didn't seem to live in make-shift huts and tents; instead, the houses were sturdy buildings made of wood and stone with white plaster on their walls to keep cold winds out. Some of the larger buildings were even embellished with little statues or decorations carved into white stone.

"It must be cozy in winter", uttered Myrel, who was also busy looking outside in a daze.

Elanthin hadn't ever dreamed of putting the words cozy and winter together in one sentence but she couldn't help but agree with Myrel's assumption. The smoke rising from the houses' chimneys told her that it was warm and lively inside. For a lack of wood and coal, Elanthin had always had to be economical with the resources in her own palace. There had been days where the queen herself had felt frozen to the bone and couldn't remember the summer's warmth.

It seemed laughable to her that even commoners of Gratia could enjoy a comfort which had been denied to the royalty of the Forlorn Plains. Soon, however, she felt anger rising within her.
Why did her people have to endure the Plains in the first place? Had their ancestors' crime been so demonic, so unforgivable that the only path of redemption was a three hundred years of suffering for their offspring?

For the first time in forever, she tried to remember what the original war had been about. She knew all about the rumors of the Gratians' trickery and dishonor but it was impossible to recall why the first battle had taken place. Was it possible that it hadn't even been recorded?

The carriage came to a screeching halt before her contemplations went anywhere and both of the Veritans tightened, ready to fight. But no one shook the wagon or smashed the glass. Instead, someone knocked softly on the door of the carriage.

Without expecting them to open it or even lift the curtains, the stranger began to talk. "I shall inform Her Majesty that we have passed the market place and are currently waiting for the magic barrier at the palace's front gate to be lowered. The delay will be kept as short as possible."

Myrel looked at her questioningly.

"I understand", replied Elanthin hastily. There'd been no question and she had neither the authority nor the power to change anything, so she didn't quite know what to say.
How did one behave on the way to their execution?

"Somehow I'm glad that I've gotten to see more than the Plains – even if it'll be over soon." Her mumbling had been loud enough for Myrel to hear and the maid lunged forward to pull the curtains from the windows.

"Let's look a little more, Your Majesty."

Elanthin blinked at her a few times, before she started to grin. "There's no need to entertain or pity me, Myrel. I won't be around to reward you."

"That's not why I ..." Myrel broke off, looking displeased. "I'm not greedy enough to expect something in return for a little kindness. After all, I'm happy to be of help to an important person."

"This important person isn't all that important anymore", resisted Elanthin and while putting the truth into words, she couldn't prevent her dismay about it from showing through. She'd never been crazy about her title but that had been when there was no way of losing it. Now she felt like holding onto it with all her might, since it was the only thing she'd ever known. Besides making hard decisions and slaying monsters, there wasn't much she was good at – or had tried.

"Maybe your importance doesn't only rely on your title."

"What do you mean?"

Myrel smiled, while picking up her handicraft to resume working on it. "I believe you'll find that out for yourself, Your Majesty. Just know that there are people who believe in your grand fate."

Although Elanthin wasn't sure about the meaning behind Myrel's words, she recognized that the maid was trying to cheer her up. How weak must I seem to Myrel, if she feels it's necessary to lift me up?

With a slight feeling of embarrassment, Elanthin turned her head to the side and pretended to inspect the pattern on the upholstery.

#

It had taken about a quarter of an hour to lower the barrier, which made Elanthin assume that the Gratian mages had constructed something quite complicated to protect the palace. However, she had little knowledge of mana usages as swordsmanship was the preferred method of combat for Veritans. Although magic could be a powerful weapon, it simply cost too much time and resources to use it effectively out on the Plains.

As soon as the soldiers had shouted something about the barrier being passable, their carriage jumped forward, straight into the illusory safety of the palace's inner courtyard. There was no time to brush the curtains aside and look at the palace in passing. So when the coachman reigned in the horses and one of the palace's servants opened their wagon's door, the first thing Elanthin did was to muster her surroundings.

There was a central building with ornamented arches and cloud-reaching towers in front of her, which merged into lower builds spanning around the courtyard. No matter how she looked at it, there was no way the Veritan palace on the Forlorn Plains could be compared to this. If one were to make such a useless comparison, they'd have to accept her home for what it was: A well-cared for but aging stone prison. She couldn't help but think so, even though her assessment was accompanied by a twinge of anger – and even jealousy. The Gratian's palace walls were gleaming in the afternoon sun like fresh-fallen snow and the large windows promised rooms filled with light and air. Without anyone telling her, Elanthin knew that the king's bedroom wouldn't be musty and cold for a lack of windows or fire wood.

Unnoticed by her, Aetrian had made his way to the carriage, while the horse he'd been riding on was being led away by a stable boy. He reached out his hand to help the women climb off and Elanthin accepted his help warily. His hands were soft and smooth, unlike someone who'd fought most his life.

After she'd gotten off, Elanthin wanted to draw her hand back but Aetrian didn't let go. Instead, he was trying to place it on his arm; likely to escort her inside. Another useless custom, she guessed.

"I'd like to welcome Your Majesty t–", he started off light-heartedly and Elanthin jerked her hand away in a sudden fit of anger. His tone had been the final straw.

"Oh, do shut up", she bellowed without consideration for the shocked bystanders. The soldiers who'd accompanied them on their way had been standing by, ready to receive orders, but now they were looking everywhere but to their king. "I've had enough of your mockery."

Elanthin didn't know what the king was up to but she increasingly felt like he was taking her for a fool. The lavish carriage, his chivalrous behavior, it all made her sick to her stomach. She shouldn't be accepting these things since they were bound to come with a price, as everything did.

"Mockery?" Aetrian repeated her words as if he was genuinely confused about them. Even his silver eyebrows furrowed.

Elanthin glared at this display of innocence. What game was he playing?

"I've handed my authority to Your Majesty as demanded and am nothing more than a humble commoner from the Plains. I believe there's nothing more to be said about the matter."

"You're wrong", he replied. His demeanor had suddenly gotten serious. "There's a lot to be said about it. We should talk inside."