Page 48 of Light and Shadow
Harper doesn’t eat much. She’s thin, and her cheeks are hollow. Since the darkness has been lifted, I can only guess what ails her is emotional. Still, she doesn’t want to be sent home. She wants to fight.
Putting her food on the leaf, she asks, “Are there other species of people in Domhan besides elves and dwarves?”
Jax nods and talks around a mouthful of food. “The fairy folk live on an island in the south. They keep to themselves, and all the better for it. They care nothing about the concerns of the world.”
I wonder if that’s true. We thought the same of the dwarf race before Fancor came into our company.
Jax continues, “Centaurs live on both continents and keep to the southern forests. Selina thinks they were once one people, but were separated long ago. Elves and centaurs have been allies in war, as well as fought each other over the centuries.
“Some say banshees haunt the sacred forest and sea to the north. We steer clear of those vile beasts. Then there are the mysteries of the sea, mermaids, mermen, and monsters whose names we don’t know or won’t say.
“The lesser elves once lived on a large island far south, but it’s believed they are all taken by evil now.”
Harper asks, “Lesser elves?”
Sighing, I pick up her leaf and give it to her in an attempt to get her to eat more. “They are similar to us, but not as far alongthe evolutionary ladder. Crude language and use of tools. Kind people, but Jax is right. Those on Domhan and those on Arcania are no longer free. Most were turned into shadow demons, others into beasts of burden.” My gut clenches. “My mother tried to help them, but we had never built trust between the races, so they would not listen.”
Wide-eyed, Harper nibbles a bit of meat and listens.
Fancor grunts. “Then there are the giants, but they keep to themselves. The dragons are lost because of the witch.”
“There are dragons?”
It’s too terrible a tale for me to tell. I nod to Fancor.
A dreamy smile pulls Fancor’s lips. His eyes brighten. “Once the sky was alive with dragons in all seven colors: blue, red, green, gold, silver, black, and white. It was glorious. They had their nesting on the mountaintop and”—he nods in Jax’s direction—“some elves joined with dragons and kept watch on Domhan. As a boy, I dreamed of being the first of my kind to ride a dragon. In my dreams, she was pearly white, and I could survey the land through her sharp eyes.” Gaze drifting to the stars, he seems lost in the magic of his memories.
“What happened to them?” Harper finishes her last bite of meat and puts the leaf aside. Gripping her hands together under her chin, she looks young and innocent.
Guilt for putting her in danger rushes up, nearly choking me. The fact that there was no other option doesn’t make it easier, nor do I feel less guilty.
With another long sigh, Fancor says, “Before Venora took the great tower and the Priomh Bhaile, she dabbled in all manner of black magic. She learned how to turn elves to shadow demons, or bánánach as my people call them. She built an army, small at first, but it grew. The elves did what they could, but she was too clever and moved from place to place, eluding them. She took consorts and fed off their power. You met her latest lover,Ciaran.” He spits on the ground. “He was a high lord’s son before he was lured to Venora’s side. He, like the others before him, has great magic. Not enough to sustain her venomous appetite though. She’ll drain him, and he’ll die. His dried husk will be left behind for no one to mourn.”
Thinking about Lord and Lady Sevelline, I add, “His parents have already mourned their son.”
“They say he’s a changeling. He can become a bear,” Jax adds.
I don’t bother to tell them that he can change into other animals as well. “Finish the story about the dragons, Fancor, if you will.”
He gives a brisk shake of his head, as if he’d lost his train of thought. “Before Venora became the witch queen, she thought to turn the dragons to her favor. She knew that if she could conquer the dragons and put her lesser elves on their backs, she could wage her war from the sky without ever having to leave her hiding place.”
Fancor stands and tosses a few sticks and leaves into the fire. All gazes are locked on the leather-armored dwarf as he combs his fingers over his beard. His gold family crest shines in the firelight. “She went across the sea to the high mountain where the dragons nest. It’s a forbidden place unless you have leave to go there. No one knows how she got through without the dragons turning her to ash or sending her back in time.” Pacing, he shakes his head and fists his hands. “She stole an egg and meant to bargain for the life of the unborn dragon. She expected to cast her spell and ensnare them all.”
Harper gasps. “She took a baby?”
“Held the black egg hostage knowing dragons will do anything to keep their young safe.” Fancor looks around the fire at the wide eyes of the elves.
Some nod, knowing the story. Others are just enraptured by his tale.
“How did they save the egg?” Harper’s voice is full of hope and prayer.
Looking at her, Fancor sniffs. “Ah lass, they didn’t save that poor egg, nor the babe inside. Their leader, Trocar, knew what Venora was about. Trocar was the bravest dragon. Songs have been written about his beauty and his skill. A black dragon, and so large, his head spans the length of three men, and eyes of shining gold.” He says the last with a slight tune of the old bards.
Someone in the crowd hums the tune as well.
Continuing, Fancor sighs. “He tricked Venora by bowing down to her. It was enough time to smash the poor little unborn’s egg and give the other dragons time to escape the spell. Only Trocor was caught in Venora’s plan, and only Trocor has been seen in these skies since. Though now, rather than admire him, all who see him hide in fear.”
Elven voices softly sing the song of Trocor.
