Soul Fire

Soul Fire - Chapter 38

"I am Maebell, of the Dwarves. We have not ignored the events transpiring around us, and have learned from the example set by Asillia eons ago."

Her voice sounded deep, soothing, and motherly.  She held out a hand the shade of porcelain, offering it to Dathion. Her skin was as smooth as chalk when he took it. She stood clothed in robes of shifting browns, the needlework and meshing of both thread and color perfect. Her robes began as a deep brown at the hem, with Dathion unable to determine where or how the shades changed to tan at her shoulders. At her waist, hung a belt laden with heavy pouches. The lips of the pouches were velvet, with sturdy clasps closing them. Her neck buoyed a chain of finest gold, with the metal hammered to wisps, the artisan's sublime craftsmanship surely gifting the term lace to the word necklace. Her fingers were circled by seven rings, four on her left hand and three on her right. They ordered the colors of the rainbow on translucent gems, swirling with the seven colors birthed by light passing through rain. Dathion's eyes were drawn to hers, then to the belt at her waist in turn, which hung heavy under the weight of her pouches.

Maebell continued to smile and arranged her robes, turning back to face the King and Queen.

"As promised, I have saved my tales for the presence of Asillia's heir, for his kingdom was the first to raise a hand against the darkness that fed, while we quarreled in ancient times."

The King and Queen tipped their heads slightly, while the prince and princess settled at the feet of the thrones of their parents.

"There are indeed stirrings of an ancient foe, one we are yet to understand. The Dwarves wage war in the Labyrinths of Midnight. Our foes are numerous, both bestial and unholy, and their powers bring a death both unnatural and utter. There is little defense against the greatest practitioners of their dark arts. Still, we will not fail, and their progress is measured in rivers of blood from their armies."

"Do not look so surprised, men of Asillia."

The King spoke once more.

"Even now, Asillia is called to arms, sending her men and horses to the eastern edge of her plateau. We dispatch messengers to your palace as we speak, to inform your king that you ride to a diversion. The true battle is under the feet and hooves of your army."

"Why?"

This time Malithas spoke.

"We have recent news from our own Swiftriders that Asillia rides to battle. You say this is merely a diversion? Why attack the Dwarves, and in the labyrinths you speak of?"

"Because, lord of Asillia, those who claim the Dwarvern tunnels, rule the deep roads to all our lands."

Malithas's brow cracked and splintered like the parched earth bordering Palia.

Maebell continued.

"Our enemy cannot be without limits to their strength, nor possessed of endless numbers. The price they pay is dear - one they cannot forever meet. They will fail against our shield, and when they do, Asillia will be called to once more defend all lying under the eye of the sun. Be prepared that you may be alone. We are distracted, and while we guard the heart of our world, the Dwarves cannot spare numbers to join you."

"And the Elves?"

Malithas's hand rose sharply in anticipation of Dathion's words, but he was not fast enough to stop the question.

The King responded.

"I forgive your request, for you are too young to understand the burden we bear, Prince of Asillia."

The Queen smiled at the words of the King before taking her turn.

"Dathion, the Elves do not sit idle, but our power is not limitless in its reach, nor magnitude. We have guarded the borders of this world for a counting of years greater than the entire history of Asillia's people. To us, lending our strength to this battle will diminish it where it's otherwise needed. Until we are convinced that it is the right course, then we choose to observe."