down into a ravine. The gulch is bowl-shaped with two mountains, ending with sheer cliff faces, bracketing the river running out to sea between them. Built over the river is the palace, constructed from the same white stone of the cliffs. It seems to be erected over three large bridges, and soars up into the sky with its twisting towers. On either side of the castle, built into the mountains, is the rest of the city. It’s beautiful and sprawling, and nothing like I expected.
The forest we’re walking through starts to thin out, and the elves at the front of our little entourage start the slow, winding descent into the ravine and towards the city. The whole time I look around in wonder. Everything is so much brighter here. That could be because we are farther south than Arhaven, or it could be because the castle in Arhaven is built from the dark stone of the black cliffs, whereas here, everything has been constructed from the white stone mountains. Whichever it is, the city feels hopeful and bright.
The feeling of being watched becomes great as we make our way through the outer edges of the city. Glancing up, I see elves in the trees watching us, eyeing me, but it seems to be out of curiosity rather than the hatred I was worried they would automatically view me with. As I observe them, I see no slaves and no one seems to be living in poverty, and again, I’m struck by the differences between the two cities.
“When we reach the castle, don’t say anything,” Elier whispers to me, and a flash of alarm surges through my veins. I want to ask him what he means, but I keep my mouth shut and just nod.
This is it, we have finally made it here. All my insecurities flood forward, and I have to remind myself what Vaeril said, that I would be safe here. I repeat it like a silent mantra.
You’re safe. You’re safe. You’re safe.
We’re close to the palace now, and I have to crane my neck to look up at the towers. Pulling my gaze away, I see a small group of people waiting for us at the front of the castle. There is a huge, intricately carved archway with several white stone steps down to the paved, circular space that overlooks the river.
Reaching the paved area, the horses all stop at once, as if by some unspoken command. Elier dismounts and then turns to me, easily lifting me from the horse as if I weigh nothing. When he places my feet on the ground, my knees buckle after being in that unusual sitting position for so long. Throwing me a look, Elier helps steady me before turning to the people waiting for us at the top of the stairs.
A regal-looking woman stands at the front of the little group, her hands clasped loosely in front of her as she watches us curiously with a tilt of her head. She has the same silver hair as Vaeril, of which half is up in an elaborate, twisted braid, the rest falling in loose curls down to her waist. She’s wearing a fairly simple dress, but in a beautiful bronze colour that seems to catch the light, making her appear like she’s glowing in the sunlight. She has a matching bronze diadem that rests on her brow, her delicately pointed ears proudly on display.
“General, you have returned.” Her voice is light, and although she says it softly, somehow, I can still hear her clearly. They’re not speaking in elvish, which surprises me, but I’m pleased to be able to understand what’s happening. The general steps forward and climbs the steps to claim her offered hand. Bowing, he kisses her hand then stands, and helps her down the steps towards us. “I received your message, you found one of our lost?”
Lost? The way she says it makes it sound like she’s talking about the dead.
“Your Majesty, I am pleased to be back,” he responds, as they reach the bottom of the steps. He pauses for a second, preparing her. “Yes, I wouldn’t usually bother you with this, but I thought you would want to see who we found.”
Her previously blank mask cracks and is replaced with a delicate frown. She gets halfway to the pallet Vaeril’s body is resting on when she sees him. Her eyes go wide and her gasp echoes around us.