Soul Fire

Soul Fire - Chapter 39

Everything had been well prepared by the Elves and put in order for their departure. Many had gathered to farewell their group, most to catch a glimpse of their own prince and princess, as well as the Asillian heirs from the East.

"Interesting, Dathion. It seems you carry fame, and yet you have not accomplished anything."

Strangely, Dathion's defense came from the unlikely source of Salidon.

"Jealous, Malithas?"

"Of course not, Salidon. I have fame, and have done much to earn it."

"Yes, Malithas. The lives of thousands of bandits and demons have been ended by your blade ... or was it dozens?"

He stopped his horse, then extended the first three fingers of his hand, one by one, while mouthing the numbers as he counted.

"I can never remember the details exactly ... I'm sure there are records somewhere, maybe written on the bronzed statue they built in your honor?"

Malithas's grunt of indignation was delivered with such emotion, it seemed to propel his horse forward.

"Oh dear, Dathion, now look what you've done."

Salidon also pushed forward to comfort Dathion's mentor, leaving the young prince to gape, his objection frozen on his lips.

Dathion still had no idea what observer meant as defined by the Elves. He was told that they joined Dathion's party to observe events, yet they remained guarded about their intentions. Ten Shimmer Guard formed a ring around them, mounted on white and golden horses. Their sickle-bladed polearms bore banners scribed in the Elven tongue. Maebell rode between Dathion and the Elves, her presence giving him comfort. On his other flank, the now mounted Shanisha and Ellishan fought to ride closest. They soon formed an uneasy truce, with Shanisha riding level with Dathion, and Ellishan close behind. Farther back, came the somewhat comical Gergan, an enormous horse holding him aloft, with his knees jutting out on both sides. He appeared distinctly uncomfortable, though it couldn't have been a fraction of what the horse must have felt. The additional stress of having huge wolves following on both flanks, would have done little to ease his mount's distress.

"The horses we have loaned to you, will bear you to the edge of our forest. The way will be open before you. Rest your legs for wearier travels before you."

Dathion smiled his thanks to the king and queen of the Elves, the royal couple having escorted them to the edge of the clearing that surrounded their settlement. With a final wave, he turned Asheron away from the monarchs, longing to take some part of the beauty of their realm with him. As they reached the first of the wild trees not transformed into Elven homes, Malithas slowed his horse to allow Dathion to draw level. Then, he asked a most unexpected question.

"So, My Lord, where to?"

Dathion stopped, stunned. It had not yet sunk in. He had decided their next course of action, not Malithas.

"Back to Asillia, Malithas. We have been gone for too long, and I have questions for my father regarding the scrolls."

"Are you sure he'll be happy to see you?"

Dathion wanted to scream 'Of course!' He wanted to vent anger at Malithas for daring to imply his father may not want him to return home.

The problem was, deep down, Dathion suspected Malithas was right to ask. His mission remained unfinished - a failure - with a number of scrolls still undelivered. It was a truth that Dathion did not want to face. The evidence mounted, even if much of it proved circumstantial. Every fact, and every clue, pointed to his father wanting him to stay away, at least for a while yet.