The Darkness Steals The Light - The Elim Chronicles

The King's Pardon

In that moment, I understood the magnitude of my misjudgment, and I was in the presence of a force beyond my comprehension. Lord Varesh terrifies me.

Danan. The Third Great Age. 3031.

˜ ˜ ˜

Rhythmic waves crash against the towering white cliffs of Thiel. Seashells clatter upon the narrow stretch of shoreline. The midday sun sits high in the tranquil sky. Tall coastal grasses sway in harmony in the cooling ocean breeze. The tuneful tide arrives, carrying summer's warmth on waves of nostalgia.

Lord Varesh marches ahead, following the coastal cliff path that winds up through rolling sand dunes. The skirting path hangs on delicate white chalk clifftop lips, where, down below, the ocean clatters onto disheveled shell-clad sands. There's not a single sandy footprint that scars the narrow stretch of golden beach.

Lulled by the magic of the ocean, Danan stands, lost in contemplation, gazing down from the cliff edge at the hazy azure ocean. The midday sun beats down on his pale face, flecked with other men's blood.

Jain joins Danan. "Come now; all is well, Danan. We are alive, and they are very dead." Jain inhales the refreshing sea breeze and gazes out at the serene ocean. "I admit, I've seen many things happen to men, but I have never seen men explode before." Jain purses his lips and starts mimicking little puerile popping sounds.

"I did not know such a thing was even possible," Danan licks his salty lips, "you know, magic."

Jain wraps a comforting arm around Danan's shoulders. "I had doubts about the crazy old coot, but it seems all things are possible. I mean, embarking on a quest with a semi-divine mage with a penchant for popping people. What can possibly go wrong?"

Danan musters a half-hearted laugh, then they follow the meandering cliff path up to the tip of the tallest dune.

Danan and Jain look down at a tall, three-story whitewashed inn. 'The King's Pardon' perches on the cliff edge, overlooking a secluded bay that sparkles with perfection. Carved into the thick thatched roof are the shapes of fish, with intricate details. Black shuttered windows are flung open, welcoming the warming sun, and wicker baskets of wild coastal flowers hang from the window ledges.

Jain bounds down the steep dune in a cloud of fine sand. He trips, tumbling headfirst down the steep dune and rolling the last few steps. Then, in a single nonchalant stride, he bounds back to his feet and struts ahead like a man of great importance, exuding unlimited wealth.

Danan follows Jain, stumbling down the dune on uneasy legs, and walks to Jain, who slouches against the inn's doorframe, engaging in animated conversation with a pair of beautiful ladies dressed in fine silks, their bluish-gray dyed hair tied into buns.

"Lord Jain Adair, actually. I'm certain you will have heard of my name. I own a sizeable estate in the capital. For the most part, I dabble in land and property. Did I mention I am also a master swordsman?"

The inn sign, bearing a golden key and compass emblem, squeaks in the wind above Jain's head. Gulls squawking from the inn's rooftop break the awkward silence.

The ladies wrinkle their noses, casting disdainful glances at Jain. With a flirtatious giggle, they link arms and wander down a narrow coastal path towards the sands of a tiny golden bay. "Damn it, man, you frightened them away," Jain hisses in Danan's ear.

The inn door swings open with a loud timber creak as Lord Varesh joins them. "No, you reek of stale sweat, and you're caped in blood and your own vomit. The One only knows what else stains your breeches. You are, in other words, filthy. Those ladies did the only sensible thing and left you to wallow in your own shame." Lord Varesh stands in the doorway with a pinched smile and a mischievous glint in his eye. "Eccentric I may be, a crazy old coot I am not, although I do possess an exceptional hearing range." Lord Varesh gives them a playful wink.