The Atheil Chronicles: A Call to Fire

Chapter 29

When Tyrynion woke an hour later, Ariana was already packed and ready to go. When Ryonen had finally come back from the forest, he had returned just as angry as before, refusing to talk to her and choosing to stare out into the trees from his spot on the other side of the clearing. Ariana had decided to gather the food up in her satchel while he was gone since he was almost always pouting in the distance when they stopped; it just made more sense. After Tyrynion had eaten a quick breakfast, they had finally set off, the three of them just as silent as they had been the day before. Ariana couldn't help but wonder if this was how it was going to be the whole way to the Eastern Kingdom.
She sure hoped not, she thought, glancing over at Tyrynion, who was staring fixedly ahead as he walked casually beside her. While he had talked to her one on one many times, she got the distinct impression that he wasn't normally all that chatty. Seemingly the strong and silent type, she noticed that he usually reserved his words for what he felt he needed to say, and that was usually only when it was the most meaningful. She wondered if, after all that time spent alone, it was hard to talk to someone, to be open, to confide in another. She liked him, she really did. She felt like his kindness was so refreshing from someone who had been through so much and who had chosen to punish themselves because of something that most likely wasn't even their fault. She wished that he could let go of that pain, that he could see himself the way that she was seeing him. She felt a sort of comradery with him, that if anyone understood how it felt to lose someone, it was him. He had watched a person he cared about, who he had swore to protect, die right in front of his eyes. Then there was Ariana, who felt responsible for getting her mother kidnapped, for getting her dragged into whatever the heck it was that Ariana had gotten dragged into, knowingly or unknowingly. She understood that guilt; that feeling like it was weighing on your soul and you couldn't escape it because, well, it was a part of you now. How can you run away from yourself, how can you run away from your own insecurities? Sure, he had run away to Orlac, but had he really escaped? Surely it had just been 20 years of reliving his own hell over and over again. When he had told her that your mind is your own worst enemy, she could feel that he knew from experience what that felt like, and she pitied him for it, just like she pitied herself.
The further they walked through Orlac, and the closer they came to Balthorn, the more Ariana's nerves seemed to grow tighter and tighter. She knew in her heart that the closer they got to the border of the Eastern kingdom, the closer she got to truly understanding what was going to happen between Ryonen and her. She already felt like things were pretty much over between them, though she was willing to stay friends if he could prove he would change. However, she also feared who he would become when he was back in his element. Was he going to be a worse version of who he already was with Lamis and Tyrynion? Would he go into prince-mode and forget all about her mom and her? Ariana was worried; she genuinely didn't know what to expect from him. Would he ever go back to being that Ryonen she had met on that moonlit night in the forest? What if his mother didn't approve of Ariana being in Atheil and simply sent her home? Ariana couldn't stand the idea of her mom being trapped in Atheil forever while she stayed stranded on the other side of the portal, unable to make her way back. All she had to do right now was hope that Ryonen would stick to his word but, at the moment, Ryonen's word didn't really mean much to her. He had made promises to her, he had broken them, he had lied to her, he had continued to lie to her, and even-. She stopped, her thoughts coming to a grinding halt as she slammed on the metaphorical brakes. She couldn't bear to keep thinking about it, to have her mind just rolling around with these thoughts over and over again, torturing her. She didn't want to continue feeling this hurt; it was like a never ending cycle.
She had put so much faith in him from the beginning that maybe he never really had a chance to live up to it in the first place. Maybe it was just that she was finally seeing Ryonen's flaws for the first time and she didn't like them. Were they something that she could live with? She tried not to answer herself at that moment but some part of her already knew that, no, she couldn't live with them if this was who he truly was. She had gotten a glimpse of his good side first, or maybe it wasn't one of his sides at all, but just a persona he had enacted for her sake. She didn't know. Regardless of what he said, she couldn't be sure of anything anymore. The first person she had chosen to trust besides her mother, and that one failed attempt with Cody, had ended in absolute disaster. Lamis had proven trustworthy. Tyrynion, so far, was proving trustworthy. She didn't know how much more she had in her to defend Ryonen's actions and, really, she had already stopped defending them. That small part of her that still wanted to be with him was growing fainter. She wasn't sure of anything anymore; if she didn't have Ryonen helping her, who would? To make matters worse, with this new spiteful Ryonen, she wondered if he would still be willing to help her when push came to shove, or if he would just walk away.
Around noon, they decided to stop and rest for a bit. The evening before, Tyrynion had decided that they would take a slightly alternative route than they had originally planned out. This meant that they would be cutting half a day from their journey, otherwise they would have only been arriving there at this time the next day . However, according to Tyrynion, at the rate they were going, they'd reach Balthorn's borders by some time that night. Ariana wasn't sure how she felt about this, but she obviously knew that there was no turning back. The only way out of Orlac now was through Balthorn.
"What's it like there?" She asked suddenly, glancing over at Tyrynion as she took a bite of some type of fruit, a jam covered slice of bread balancing on her leg. Ryonen had once again retreated into the trees and the two of them were left alone to eat lunch.
Today he was eating some sort of tuber-like plant that vaguely reminded her of ginger root. He was chewing on the end, thoughtful as he considered the question. "It's hard to explain." He said, finally, looking over at her.
She raised her eyebrows. "So you've been there?"
He sighed. "I occasionally venture there when I need something. News, mostly."
Arianas eyes widened. "And they don't try to kill you?" She asked. "I mean, I know they're not supposed to be too fond of Elves."
Tyrynion shrugged. "Look at me. Do I not look like I'm on their side?"
She felt a flush creeping into her cheeks. "I dont think-"
He laughed, the sound surprising her but filling her with a warmth that she hadn't expected. "I know what you thought of me when you first met me." He said, though he didn't sound upset. "I don't look very good, do I? Not like all the other Elves usually look, at least."
"That's not true." She protested.
"It's okay." He said, waving her away. "You don't have to feel bad about it. These are battle scars; I don't feel ashamed of them."
"How did you get them?" She asked, finally asking the question she had longed to know since the moment she had met him.
Now he leaned back on his palms, setting the tuber on the ground next to his leg. "Wow," he said, letting out a soft exhale, "it's been a long time since I've thought about that." He looked over at her, raising his eyebrows. "It's been a really long time, actually."
"How long is long?" She asked.
"Has to be a few hundred years."
"What? How old are you?" She asked, feeling a bit perturbed.
"Well..." He said, trailing off as he contemplated it.
Ariana scoffed at this. "You have to think about it?" She asked, and she knew her voice gave away her shock. 
He shrugged. "When you're as old as I am, time seems to creep by slowly like the last few trickles of water left in a creek bed. So, yeah, I do have to think about it."
She considered this, wondering how it would feel to watch life go by so slowly. When you lived forever, did the small things even matter anymore? Did you take time to smell the roses or to lay in the grass under the sun? Or was it just pointless when you had all the time in the world? Maybe you stopped seeing the beauty in everyday things.
"I think," he said, using his fingers to do some kind of internal calculation, "that I am just over 350 years old."
Ariana spit out what she was eating. "Excuse me?!" She said, incredulous. "You're kidding, right?"
He shook his head. "No. No, I think that's right. Let's see-" He squinted up at the sky. "I was about 104 when the last High Queen of Atheil ascended to the throne, and that was about 250 years ago."
"So, just to be clear, you're telling me that you're over 350 years old?" She said, feeling like she needed to clarify.
"Yes." He sighed. "It certainly feels like it's been a long 350 years. Though, I suppose in a way, maybe it hasn't. Time seems to move so slowly and yet, when you look back, it flies by almost without you knowing it."
Ariana was quiet. How could he be that old? She thought, glancing at him. He barely looked like he was 28, at the most. She wondered how old Lamis was since he looked about the same age. Was he, too, over 350 years old? The very thought boggled her mind and she found herself wondering what that would even be like. At 350 years old, Tyrynion was over a quarter of a century old. How old would he look when he was 500 years old, or over a thousand? What about 2000?
"So what happened?" She asked, pulling herself out of her own spiraling thoughts and getting back to her original question.
Tyrynion had picked the tuber back up and was now taking a bite. "Well," he said, pointing to some of the scars on his legs, "a lot of things happened, really. I got these when I first joined the Peridien army." Then he indicated the ones on his arms. "These ones are from some of the battles I fought while I was still in the army, though I can't remember specifically how I got any of them."
"And, the one on your face?" Ariana asked hesitantly, trying to be at least a little bit sensitive.
Tyrynion grimaced. "That one," he said, taking in a breath, "that one was personal."
Ariana just looked at him. 'That one was personal'... What was that supposed to mean? Out loud she said, "Was it from the war or-"
"No," he said, turning away. He sighed. "That one- that one was from 20 years ago."
Ariana stopped, her breath catching in her throat. "Oh." She said, looking at Tyrynion, whose face was suddenly shadowed with memories. He seemed to be remembering, even as she was simultaneously left wondering, whatever had happened that day. Ariana knew that the reason he had exiled himself in the first place was because he had swore to protect someone and had ended up losing them instead. Watching them get murdered right in front of his very eyes had obviously drastically affected him; he believed that his honor had been lost that day and that he didn't deserve to be living a carefree life anymore, that he needed to suffer for his failure.
"Did you love them?" She asked suddenly, wondering if perhaps the person he had lost had been a lover or a spouse.
Tyrynion met her gaze, his deep umber eyes looking almost diminished in his grief. "In a way, yes." He said, his voice so gravelly and yet so soft. "Yes, I did love her, but not in the way, perhaps, that you might think."
Ariana just looked at him. When she didn't say anything, he continued. "I loved her, yes, but it was in a way that went beyond just being my best friend; she was like a sister to me. We were always very close. As children we were raised side-by-side, almost always together and completely inseparable."
Now his voice trailed off and Ariana sensed that, to finish the sentence would be to relive the event. She didn't want to push him, and she certainly didn't want to be the one to make him experience that hurt all over again. She looked up, her gaze falling on one of the dead trees ahead. Its branches had once reached up high into the sky, however, most of them now lay in crumbling decomposing masses below it, having snapped off as the tree continued to die. Its bark was blackened and spotted with fungus, rotting and sagging in on itself as if the bark itself had melted down into something else. She wondered what kind of sickness could make a whole land die like this, what Malor could have possibly done to cause such widespread death and decay.
Tyrynion's voice pulled her from her observations and he was so quiet that, at first, she thought she had misheard him. "It was my fault." He said, whispering.
Arianas eyes found his face and she saw that he was gazing down into his hands at the calloused, raised tissue there. He seemed unusually somber, even for him. "What was your fault?" She asked. She could see him swallow, but he didn't look up at her
"It's my fault that she died." He said.
"I'm sure that's not true." Ariana replied, reaching out a hand to comfort him. He let her put her hand on his arm without pulling away, but he still refused to meet her gaze.
"No," he said, his tone sure, "it was my fault. I was supposed to be protecting her, keeping her safe. It was dangerous back then; Atheil had already fallen, danger lurked around every corner. The darkness was creeping into the land. I kept telling her 'We can't go out like we used to, it's not safe', but-" he chuckled now, but it was without humor, "she was always so stubborn. She never believed that anything could hurt her, or at least-" Now Ariana saw in his demeanor an unimaginable pain as he came to terms with what had happened. "At least she was never afraid because we were always together. We were always protecting each other. I couldn't protect her that day, though."
Ariana didn't speak. She didn't want to interrupt him; she knew that what he was saying was perhaps the first time he had said it out loud. Maybe he needed that. So she sat quietly, waiting for him to start up again, her hand laying gently on his forearm as he continued to fidget his fingers.
"We went out for a walk." He said finally, after a long moment of silence. "I told her that we shouldn't go, that I didn't feel comfortable with it, but her husband was back home working on some project and she was getting restless. If he had been there-" He stopped himself. "No, it's not his fault, but perhaps it would have turned the tide."
Ariana nodded, though she didn't know if he could see her since he was still looking down at his hands.
"That day, she came up to me and said 'let's go for a walk, Tyrynion, it'll do us both good. We've been cooped up for so long, I just want to go out again. I want to feel the wind in my hair and the grass beneath my feet.' I told her no. I begged her not to go, but she was going to go with or without me. So I went with her. It was quiet in the forest that day; too quiet. I should have known then that something was amiss. We had been walking for 15 minutes when she stopped and bent down, picking up a flower that was growing in the roots of a tree. She turned to me, so happy. 'Isn't this beautiful?' She asked. 'They only bloom once a year.' I still remember the smile on her face as she held that flower, that small token seeming to bring her so much joy. I barely had time to react when, in the next moment, Rebel Elves appeared from the trees around us. Malor himself was with them. At the time, he was still coming out to conquer villages and build his army up from the losses he suffered at Atheils downfall. We crossed paths with him by accident but he never stoped to ask questions, he just attacked. She was a phenomenal fighter; she always had been. The two of us together fought like madmen as more and more Rebel Elves kept pouring in. Eventually Malor made his way into the thick of things and she took him on, one-on-one. I was fighting off 4 elves while they fought and, when I was finally able to dispatch them, I turned just in time to see Malor running his obsidian blade right through her chest." His voice grew quiet as the words came out. There was so much pain behind them that Ariana felt her breath catch in her throat. "I saw the light leave her eyes from across the distance; I saw my best friend die at Malors hands right in front of me as I stood there helpless to save her. In that brief moment that I stood watching her, one of the Elves took the opportunity to strike out at me with his blade. He got my jaw pretty good, and I could feel the blood pouring from my face, but I couldn't linger. Malor was already coming toward me, more Elves rushing in through the trees behind him, and I had no hope of fighting off all of them alone. I had to be the one to tell her husband what happened to her. When we went back for her body later, they had taken that, too. I couldn't live with what I had done. I never should have let her leave-."
Ariana stopped him, her hand moving from his forearm down to his own fidgeting fingers, just as he had done to her the day before. "No," she said, and she was surprised to hear that her voice was firm and sure. "No. If he blamed you, he was wrong." She said.
Tyrynion shook his head. "He didn't have to blame me. He didn't have to . It was my fault. I was supposed to be the voice of reason, I was supposed to-"
"To what?" Ariana asked him. "To stop her from living her life? If she chose to leave, if she chose to go even though she knew it was dangerous, then it was her choice. It was her life to live how she saw fit. I know that you guys practically live forever, but I think that some things are worth the risk just to live your life as if you could die at any moment. What happened was not purposeful," she said, "at least not on your part; Malor was the one who killed her. That's who you should blame. That's who everyone should blame." She said, feeling anger creep into her voice.  Anger at more than just this horror that Tyrynion had experienced, but at her own misjustice at Malors hands. At the loss of her mother, at everything that had happened since she had come to Atheil. She had seen, over and over again, the effect of his tyranny and she hated it. She hated it as if she herself had suffered all this time along with everyone else here. "You loved her in a way that very few people are lucky to be loved." She said, and he met her eyes. For the first time since she had met him, she could see tears forming there. "I'm sure that you gave her more in those hundreds of years together as best friends, as confidants, as practically brother and sister, that she didn't regret a thing. I'm sure that, even though she died too young, you made those years she did live worth it. She was in love and married. She lived her life. That's all you can really do; try to live your life to the fullest with the time you have and make something out of it that you can be proud of."
Tyrynion didn't say anything, but Ariana could see that, somehow, her words had reached him. His eyes focused on her and she saw the strength returning to them and, while the grief was still there, she saw resolve flooding into the deep umber depths. They sat like this for a long time, neither one of them speaking, but taking comfort in the closeness they shared. She wasn't sure how long they were like that until she heard the sound of Ryonens returning footsteps off in the distance. She quickly dropped her hand from his, feeling mildly ashamed even as she did it. She shouldn't need to hide her friendship with Tyrynion, and yet she was scared to cause more fights between Ryonen and herself.
They started back on their journey almost immediately after Ryonen got back to the clearing, once again falling into an uncomfortable silence as they walked. Ariana felt a distinct sort of tension rolling off of Ryonen, even more than usual, and she kept eyeing him out of the corner of her eye. Had he seen them talking earlier? She wasn't sure, but something was definitely bothering him. His green eyes seemed almost darker as he glared ahead, his fingers unknowingly twirling the silver ring around his finger in an endless loop.
It was sometime later that Ariana began to notice a subtle change in the landscape around them. The density of the trees seemed to be growing even thinner, the ground itself left desolate by the sickness that had spread throughout the land. She saw that the few trees that remained were caving in on themselves, the tree tissue liquifying until there was nothing but a hollow hole in the middle of a wizened stump. The earth was bare of any grass and there seemed to be an almost gravelly texture to it. She looked down and saw that the ground was scattered with chunks of black shining rock rather than pebbles. 
Darkness was approaching and Ariana was beginning to wonder if they would reach Balthorn in the timeframe that they had hoped. She was anxious for them to reach the city and, while she was unsure of what dangers they may find once they got there, she found herself wondering what exactly a 'mecca for dark magic' would be like. All she could picture were witches and warlocks everywhere like some sort of convention fair for Charmed characters. Just as she was thinking this, the sun began to creep below the horizon and Ariana finally saw something in the distance.
"Look!" She said, pointing ahead. Ryonen and Tyrynion both turned their heads to where she was indicating. Against the orange and pink background of the setting sun, large onyx spikes rose up in the distance like giant thorns. They looked like shattered glass floating there, the fading light of the sun reflecting off of them and bringing to prominence their wickedly sharp edges.
"What is that?" She asked quietly.
They all stopped walking, their gazes trained on the structures. "It seems we've reached the city walls." He said, turning to grimace at her. "Welcome to Balthorn, everybody."