The Easel Chronicles; The Burning Hands

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

The great hall of the citadel paled in beauty to those of Elvhelm, but their beauty and majesty rung out from the silent stones. The statues of dragons, big and small, told a story of birth and death. Behind the statues of dragons stood large sculptures of men and women alike. The only common feature on the heads of the sculpture was the crown shaped like a dragon's wings sitting proud like a sign of majesty. The old monarchs of Neera, Aravoen thought, seems Patmarin told truths to us. Its windows run from ceiling to floor letting in light.

The white pillars at the sides of the hall shone in the bright afternoon sun that streamed through the western windows. Near the end of the hall, a dais was raised in the shape of an eagle's wings. More like dragon's wings, Aravoen thought looking closely at the dais. In the middle of the dais, a great stone chair glared down at them. The back opened inform of a dragon's roaring mouth. The seat was made of red cushions that were a bright contrast to the grey of the stone material. It made one see a dragon roaring at the hall yet it was only a chair.

This is a place of power Mindacil, Aravoen said to his companion.

The land of the dragon knights.

Ye ior elfwin.

I wonder what Slithbron would give to see this, Mindacil surprised Aravoen.

All the axes in Dwaven I presume.

Liana walked ahead of them avoiding the eyes of those that stood in the shadows of the great statues, and pillars. Near the foot of the grand dais where the chair looked down over the hall, Aravoen saw a group of four men standing near the great seat, deep in conversation. Their argument bordered on violent. Liana walked until she was a few paces from the group. There she stopped and waited patiently.

After a while, the youngest of the group detached himself and turned to Liana. His coal black eyes gazed into Liana's. Some message must have passed between them because Liana bowed. Something Aravoen never thought she would do.

The young man walked over to where Aravoen and Mindacil had stopped. His sand blonde hair swept his shoulders has he moved his head to study Aravoen. The golden armor that he wore was hidden by the great red cloak wrapped round his broad shoulders.

"This is my brother," Liana said, "younger brother to both Patmarin and I."

"No need to introduce me sister," his voice was as gentle as the summer breeze.

"Is that so Mael?" Liana asked sarcastically.

"Yes," her brother's voice rose gently, "don't forget who the warden of the east is Liana."

"Only by sex boy."

"Sister," Mael sighed, "I should've sent you to our elder in Mendil. Maybe there you could have learnt some humility."

"Please brother," Liana laughed, "we've guests here."

"Indeed we do," Mael smiled. He turned back to Aravoen and Mindacil. "Welcome my lords," he paused and opened his arms as if to embrace them, "To Cardamon the home of Neera or its remnants."

"Thank you lord Mael," Aravoen said bowing his head in respect.

"Please," the young man moved forward and clutched Aravoen's shoulders. His grip was firm and strong. "No need for titles here. We Neerans believe in only equality to an extent and today you're my guest so please call me Mael."

"Very well Mael," Aravoen gently freed himself from the Neeran's grip. "My friend and I are on a perilous journey and adventure. We seek the castle on top of Seer's Top."