Lxndra fell like her tears to the floor as the Halls of Ossimer began to fill for the curiosity of Elentria could take no more. It was not long before the sobbing of Lxndra was quelled as her pride was very great. She wiped her eyes with a sleeve and then summoned Daegon to her to stop his relentless howling. The boarwolf limped in slowly and was given a wide berth. Pausing only to sniff the severed arm of Kyre as it passed by, it lay down at the feet of Lxndra who shook her head upon witnessing its dishevelled condition.
“As usual, someone is in need of a good bath,” said Ossimer, breaking the tension.
“Wulfmaer is gravely ill. I fear, Kyre has deserted us once more and now you know as much as I,” was all he offered before he fell back into his chair with head in hands.
“Kyre is gone? Who shall stand our protector now?” The murmurs rang out and it was Lxndra who answered and her voice was curt and to the point.
“There lies Solareth— who shall take it?”
All eyes fell to where sword and arm lay and, peculiarly, Solareth no longer seemed as bright. It was Salister who moved first. Leaping from where he stood, beside Ossimer, he picked up the arm by a patch of its armour and almost dropped it.
“It's still hot,” he said as he transferred the bulk of it to his armpit. With both hands he tried to pull the right hand of Kyre free from Solareth’s hilt but he could not. Shifting his hold, he bent his efforts to trying to pry the smallest finger but even with his whole hand, he could not budge it even a fraction.
Gren stood next. Gren was a monster of a man. He was one of the few remaining Mekhali and the closest friend of Ossimer who was not directly kin. He reached out with his massive fingers and Salister gave way. Holding it with both hands upon its armoured sleeve, he shook it violently though, besides carving interesting patterns of light through the air, it accomplished naught. It was not long before the heat became too much for him and he placed it between his knees.
After shaking the pain from his hands, he too attempted to pry the fingers from the hilt but it was as if the knuckles, themselves, had somehow become imbedded. Frustrated, he tore a sleeve off of his glaukos, wrapping it carefully around both edges of the lethal blade he pulled for all he was worth. After a time, the smell of burning fabric invaded the air and smoke began to rise from between his fingers and then Gren dropped the blade— in anguish and disgust. Lxndra stood up from a chair next to her father’s.
“Is there no one else with heart enough to try?” She paused before repeating herself. “Will there be no one else?” She looked about the room but no stepped forth. She walked forwards to stand over the mysterious sword that refused to be parted. Ktaryn descended the grand staircase and sat down on the opposite side of Ossimer who still had his face buried in his hands. She looked at her daughter kindly but offered no words of advice. Lxndra spoke.
“This was the sword of my husband and though I would have gladly bestowed it to another; it seems that this is not to be. Therefore the sword remains mine to do with as I please. As my husband has abandoned his role as Protector of Elentria so also do I accept this in his stead for I will not see the name of my house so easily shamed. I am Lxndra— the warrior princess— and if any feel contrary let them stand to confront Daegon and I however they seem fit— but not today— for today I feel I will have little mercy to offer.”
All at once she caught a flicker of movement behind her and turned but she saw no one for no one was there. Daegon’s neck bristled with spines and he snarled menacingly which awoke Ossimer from his stupor and he stood.
“Daegon, be at ease for it is only another lost son who has returned.”
He motioned towards Lxndra’s shadow on the floor beside which another shadow had begun to amass. Strangely, the furthest corners of the Ossimer’s Great Halls now seemed to find light though only those in close approximation took notice for all other eyes were sown steadfast to the floor. At last the likeness of Akimbo could be recognized and he reached out to put an arm around the shadow shoulders of his sister. Lxndra felt a peculiar chill and then she relaxed.
“Akimbo, long have you been gone and darker still have shadows fallen in your absence,” said Ossimer. “Kyre has left us; Wulfmaer lies frozen next to your own cold body and your sister reaches for the sword of power unless you know a way to free it from the grasp of death.”
Father, I know—
“Akimbo, use Nyan, let her amplify your words so that all present might know that your heart and mind has not fallen to the darkness in which you have chosen to reside.”
“Father, mother— brothers and sisters of Elentria, Akimbo has returned from the World of Long Shadows though it is not for any weapon or illness of another that I have come but for interests of my own refinement. No longer do I wish to remain Akimbo— I seek the fragile frame of my former self. I wish to become Oronan yet again. I return from the clutches of the Blackwitch— long was I imprisoned— and amid such debauchery of darkness I pray ever few will ever know— but there is another who lies obscure. Fairest Helen, the sister of Kastor and Pollux, is now held half-sister to light. It is to her that I will go for she became my light when I needed it most and only by her grace do I stand before you now.”
“Then welcome home, Oronan; I only wish it was a gladder day. Alas, Kastor and Pollux are giving Gren a much deserved day off— and, though they are not standing here beside us, neither are they far. But enough of secret commissions— there are still decisions to be made here. Lxndra, as you wish, you shall be commander of the guard but as for the Protector of Elentria there is no longer any need. Everyone go to your homes, pack all that you wish to keep and return here as swift as you are able. The Whispered City lies but a whisper away— I only wish there was a way to disguise it further.” Many murmurs broke out but they became hushed as Ktaryn spoke.
“But there is a way,” replied her confident voice. “Allow Akimbo to teach me what he knows of shadow and light— and, if it is indeed your will, I shall wrap The Whispered City with a membrane of myself so that, even if you stood before its very door, you could not perceive it!”
“It is more than a wish; it has become my greatest hope,” said Ossimer. “Akimbo will you put off your re-embodiment for but a little while longer?”
“I will do whatever I am requested by my parents though once you are satisfied I go to find Helen.”
“And— you shall take her brothers, Kastor and Pollux with you and of their company, you will be glad for you will find them to be of great merit and reason—besides, once they find out why you have gone they shall follow you anyways.”
“As will I,” rang the voice of Jasea, twin sister of the fallen, Hemia.
“Then so be, unless Akim— Oronan feels elsewise, I find no cause against it.”
“But what of Solareth?” asked Lxndra kicking the armoured arm and sword so it skirted noisily across the floor.
“Cast it into the Pit!” cried Ossimer, “I am sick of all this weaponry and the misery that follows it. Pack all that you will and return here this evening— burn all that you leave behind— even your homes! Elentria has seen her last light of day— tonight you shall see a new city rise up from the midst of her ashes! It is a city where none can be found; a city of whispers— hidden by the attributes of hope; a place where even the dreams of shadows may one day ring true.”
And with that the gathering parted ways for they all had much to do. Belongings were packed; homes and out buildings were torched; a shadow son taught a mother how she might hide an entire city; Solareth and the severed arm of Kyre were cast into the Pit; and salister mounted his fastest steed and made haste for Ghuyenia which, to the immense frustration of Tagmir, welcomes him like a hero. Tagmir’s anger does not dissipate.
“And so you left? They leave for a place of hiding and you leave before you can tell me where it is? Have you no mind at all? Summon my army— we ride at once!”
The army was gathered and mounted within an hour as the first morning rays of Sol squinted down from the hills. Tagmir rode across the face of his men twice then stopped midstream on what would have been the third pass. He stood tall in his saddle and his hair shone in piercing grey daggers. He spoke and every word he uttered reverberated in the minds of all through the vocation of The One Tree, Sylo.
“They have taken all that remains of your kin! They have taken my wife— the mother of my son! They have burnt all that remained of our first homes and land. The graet Halls are no more for the logic of Ossimer is lost; his mind has fallen to the Blackwitch. He has forsaken all of his roots— even his own family no longer remains safe. Salister bears witness to all! We must find them— find them all! To Elentria— we ride!”
Ossimer at that very same moment stood in front of Ktaryn, who lay in Oronan’s place and beside her son, Wulfmaer. Ordan the Wise and Oronan are with him but there are no words of comfort that can be bestowed.
“Never did I imagine this is what she meant,” stammered Ossimer.
“I fear she would have attempted this even without the aid of Akimbo,” said Ordan the Wise, “much has she sacrificed and yet still more would she give.”
“It is too much,” said Ossimer, “too long have I walked apart from her and now she lies beyond.”
“No Ossimer, I am still here,” a chill ran through Ossimer as he felt her thoughts within him. “Now I, also, am like Nyan and you hear my thoughts at last.” Ossimer broke down and cried.
“She will be alright father. I never thought she could detach herself. I am at a loss. I feel she has found some measure of peace. I fear, it will be up to you to help her find her way back. I have already one of my own to return from the world of shadows— if it is not, already, too late. I go to find the cutting, Sylo and then, with luck, I will cure Helen!”
“Go with the all the graces of the Whispered City and return here when you are done for this is more than just your home— it is your motherland. When you return; you shall find me here— for never will I leave her side again.”
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