Heran's heart skipped a beat. The scribes cowered in the background while armed soldiers ran towards them, their swords and crossbows at the ready.
"Lady Forraine, please. With respect, you are shielded from the horrors the Dragoness inflicts on our region! People are suffering! The light of the world will save us all. We can go back to how things used to be!"
Lady Forraine raised a hand and stopped the guards before they could apprehend Heron and Zonis.
"Walk with me, Heran," she said.
Lord Jezrel assisted his wife to her feet. Forraine dismissed the guards and walked towards an adjourning room. She held up the scarlet drape over the entrance.
"Come this way."
Zonis stiffened. "Heran..."
Heran placed a comforting hand on the young dwarf's shoulder.
Leaving his companion behind to lurk in the discomfiting presence of the chamber, Heran followed Forraine through the drape into a dining room. An ovular arch opened up into a backdrop of tropical flora, leading into a garden where servants gathered fruits in thatch baskets. A large driftwood table anchored the room, decorated with a blue sash secured around the middle like a belt. Several wooden cups were placed together as Lady Forraine picked up a glass pitcher of red wine and filled two. She offered one to Heran.
He politely refused.
"Thank you for your empathy, your grace," Heran said.
Lady Forraine stood beneath the arch and stared into the garden.
"When the Dragoness raided Roxundam, I fled to seek refuge elsewhere beyond our region's borders. In the wake of the devastation, there was nothing left to salvage. My infant child was dead, set ablaze in a nursery not far from our homestead. Life had not been easy. Being a Talon never was, but I could not stay and serve the witch who had killed my son."
"No mother should ever face such a loss," said Heran.
"The refugee ship left the kingdom in the middle of the night. For three agonizing days, I sat pressed against strangers, always in fear that the dragons would find and kill us. When the ship passed Port Haradem, it was caught in a typhoon. In a desperate attempt, the captain steered into a dense fog, where we discovered this island. It was a welcoming gift after so much despair. In the years that followed, Swaan Tull was built from the hands and labour of those seeking a new life. The fog kept us hidden. Ever so often, a lost ship would arrive, and our colony would grow. On Swaan Tull, we are able to live again."
"Do you not desire for the rest of the Isles to feel that freedom?" Heran asked. "Image a region without the darkness. Without the Dragoness! Swaan Tull is proof that civilization can rebuild. If we partner with the Oracles, salvation is guaranteed."
Lady Forraine took a sip of wine. "If that happens, what makes you certain that the Isles will treat us with respect? History has a tendency to repeat itself, Heran. You can deliver the world from tyranny, but when the dust settles on the horizon of the new world, we will still be Serpentbloods, traitors who served the very evil we claimed to eradicate. Those loyal to the Dragoness greatly outnumber the Talons opposing her regime. Future politics will weaponize that sliver of truth to torture the next generation. A renewed era of fear and judgement would be unleashed, and we would be the perpetrators."
"Do you not have faith in El Olam?" Heran asked.
"I have faith in my people," Lady Forraine rebuked. "Their hands built this village, not the divine."
YOU ARE READING
RISEN | ONC 2024
FantasyA boy born with Serpentblood. An exiled dwarf in pursuit of his destiny. A she-elf guided by a religious prophecy. Together, they must rise to find the coveted Light of the World, a saviour who promises to tip the scale of waging Spiritual War in t...
