Jazmyn Kallarya

New Barleis, Arnland

KING RYKEN WAS in his solar sipping a cup of iced wine when Jazmyn arrived with her escort. The solar was on the fifth floor of the royal castle and had a view of nearly all of the city of New Barleis. From here, she could see Carver's Bay, the Tower of Evrie, and the library from which Jazmyn just left. Jazmyn wondered if Ryken knew about the Gatekeepers and their secret meetings beneath the royal gardens. With this view of the city, it was hard to imagine the King didn't know of every happening within its crooks and alleyways. Still, it is hard to find people who take every care not to be found. She would have to guard her tongue carefully, something that was never a strength of hers, much to the dismay of some of her closest friends and family. The vocal filter between her mind and tongue was a dull and rusted thing from lack of use.

The king smiled at her when she entered. His hair was a shaggy mop of maple brown curls beneath a splendid crown, a thin band of gold with an ornate eagle head jutting out at the brow. Rubies, sapphires, and diamonds were wrought along the band within beautiful embossing. He wore black trousers, fine leather boots, and a surcoat in the colors of his house, navy and white, studded with gold. His royal mantle was lined with eagle feathers, and his smile seemed cruel as if it spoke of ill intentions. "Ah, Lady Jazmyn, thank you for coming to see me."

Jazmyn returned the smile, though hers was not genuine. "A pleasure, Your Grace," she said with cool formality. She was only here at his request, pried away from her studies in the library right when she found something about what she was looking for. It was the same feeling of disappointment I usually find within the bedroom, Jazmyn thought dryly. Jaymis gave her a hard time about having "friends" of a higher station than himself, but Jazmyn ignored him. "How may I be of service?"

The King's smile seemed to grow wider. "I'm pleased you asked that, my good scholar." He gestured to a table full of wine bottles, glasses, and great platters of meat, cheeses, crackers, and berries. "But first, some refreshments. There is nothing so desired in warm Arnish afternoons as iced wine and a splendid spread of charcuterie. Please, help yourself."

Jazmyn nodded. She took a glance around the King's solar when she made her way to the table of refreshments. She half expected to find more naked women prancing around, the stuffed heads of exotic beasts, or anything else that suggested the King making vain attempts of decorative splendor to compensate for his lackluster manhood, but her assumptions were proven unfounded. Compared to his throne room, in which a boy's vulgar fantasies came to life, the solar was rather modest. He is still new to his kingship, Jazmyn remembered. Perhaps he hasn't had time yet to fill it with courtesans, mounted lion heads, and one-armed jugglers. It was a simple room with maps of Arnish territory, globes, liquor cabinets and bookshelves fashioned from mahogany, and a simple cushioned chair of oak and golden cloth.

The King looked at her as if he could read her thoughts, or at least had a faint idea of the notions in her head. His expression wouldn't be near so friendly if he could read her true thoughts.

"It's quaint, isn't it?" the King said warmly.

"Quaint?" Jazymn echoed back absently.

The King nodded. "The solar. It was my father's before it was mine,"

As is the case with most kings, Your Grace, Jazmyn thought, though thankfully did not voice.

Ryken went on. "He told me that a King should use his free time wisely, and to keep his quarters quiet, so that his thoughts may be heard more clearly. They found him dead in here. I wonder if he appreciated the quietness then."

Jazmyn tensed at the notion. It had been only a year passed since the news of King Lucard Gartheyn's death found her ears. She remembered exactly where she was at the time. It was at the College, on the second floor of the Hall of Amedus, during Magus Ghistaine's lecture about the history of the Arnish political system. The news could not have come at a more opportune time.

"You have my sympathies," said Jazmyn with enough courtesy she even fooled herself.

Ryken smirked. "I'm not in need of your sympathies, Scribe. I'm in need of your tongue."

Jazmyn felt her spine stiffen in her back and clenched her jaw. She did not like the sound of that one bit. "And how could my tongue serve you, Your Grace?" she said wearily.

Ryken smiled that cruel smile of his. "By doing what I imagine it does best. Tell me a tale."

Jazmyn's face twisted with confusion and relief. "A tale? A tale about what?"

Ryken poured himself a goblet of sweet red wine and went to sit in an armchair by the window. "A tale on the tongue of every person in the Kingdoms of Men. Tell me about the elves, I want to know more. I've had some time to reflect and think upon your proposal."

Had it been anyone else, Jazmyn would have been excited at that idea. It was her goal and mission to come to the court of Arnland in an academic capacity and speak upon her findings and studies with the elves of Valadel. What she said and did here could mean either the mitigation or complete prevention of a war between the two kingdoms. And yet, with this King at the helm of this Kingdom...

Jazmyn had to play his game, she knew. It was a game she couldn't afford to lose. She smiled, and went to the armchair opposite of him, and sat. She crossed one leg over the other and gave him just a brief but exciting look at the bottom of her bare thigh beneath her robes. If pretty Valdorian women were what he wanted, Jazmyn would give it to him, so long as he gave her what she wanted at the end of it all. What exactly it was she wanted, Jazmyn wasn't sure, but she supposed she'd figure it out along the way. "While I would love to sit here and chat that Kingly ear off of you, Your Grace, I'm afraid there are others more suitable for the position. Ambassador Pentavos and Ambassador Norzil have been charged by the Queen to speak with her voice on the matter, perhaps they would make for a better audience?" Jazmyn didn't truly think so, but she wanted to see what Ryken made of the two.

Ryken scoffed and waved his hand. "Nadia is pretty enough to look at but not much more. She recites the same pretty speech every time talk of the elves comes up. We wish to study them, to return to the roots of mankind, to atone for past sins. It drives me mad." He sipped his wine. "Her lips are put to better use pleasuring me than they are making conversation. If anything, I'd sooner offer her a position playing in my fountain than I would charge her with diplomatic missions.

"As for the other one, he can bury his head in the sands of your home. The man reminds me of a bird with no feathers. Your Queen is a fool to have made him an ambassador of your country. I weep for your women if all Valdorian men resemble that creature."

Perhaps Jazmyn should have been more offended on behalf of her countrymen, but truth be told, she wasn't. In fact, she couldn't have agreed more with the King. Everything he said about the two ambassadors was accurate with deadly precision, though she would have been more kind to Ambassador Norzil. Still, she shared his assessment of Nadia, and she suspected the two had some sort of sexual relationship.

"Fortunately, Ambassador Norzil is one of a kind, Your Grace. The men of Valdor are renowned warriors and artists, and are as handsome as the lands that bore them. As for Ambassador Pentavos, she is as articulate as she is beautiful, though I suppose articulation is easy enough to practice. The talent for participating in engaging conversation, on the other hand, is a gift, I believe, and one she was born without."

Ryken put teeth into his smile. "I believe you are gifted indeed, Scribe Kallarya. So," he crossed one of his legs, "please, tell me everything about the elves, and your journey to Valadel."

Where did Jazmyn even begin? There was so much to say, so much to recount, and Jazmyn still wasn't sure what Ryken wanted to do with the information. Sometimes, he seemed to only be a boy ruled by the head between his legs rather than the one on his shoulders, and other times, he seemed more thoughtful than he let on. She had to navigate this treacherous path carefully. "I was at the College in Valdor when two rangers came for me under King Joras' banners. The King requested scholars from the college to aid him on the expedition to the castle, and soon enough, we were on a boat heading there." She remembered that day so well; Gallador and Edwin at the bow, discussing plans and strategy, Tytus and his rangers playing cards, Seigfreid Whitelocke sulking off in a corner, Cristomir and his cousin Danticus laughing and making wagers as to what they'd find in the kingdom, and Irving reading his books below deck. "It wasn't soon afterward we arrived, and what happened next was straight out of a nightmare."

The King leaned forward, his chin resting on his hands, his eyes full of intrigue. "Continue."

"Only minutes had we been within the Kingdom when they came...what the elves called the cursed ones."

A hook formed in Ryken's brow. "Cursed ones?"

Jazmyn nodded. "They were elves, or had once been elves, but an ancient curse turned them into ravenous creatures, devoid of thought, driven only by their desire for flesh. They didn't know where the curse came from, or how it was cast, but if I had to take an educated guess, I'd wager it was other elves."

"Why would other elves curse their own kind?"

Jazmyn shrugged. "Why do men make war with other men? We're not so different, our two species."

Ryken scoffed. "Tell that to Jorik Freemane. Please let me know when you do, I'd love to see his reaction."

Jazmyn flashed him a smile. "I'll be sure to pass on your courtesies, Your Grace." She took a second to recover the thoughts lost in their tangent. "As for the elves themselves...there were three of them. One was able to use magic with the aid of an artifact, but the other two were, as he said, gifted. They had abilities I'd never thought possible. The things I saw, I...it's something that any scholar worth their salt would give to study. The abilities of those two beings were nothing short of godly."

"You sound like a great admirer of these elves...so much so that I have no doubt the church would dub you a fanatic," said Ryken.

Jazmyn dared a grin. "The church and the college have long been at odds. When the truth isn't in favor of their God, they curse it and name those who speak it heretics."

"Their God? You do not share their faith?"

Jazmyn didn't take Ryken for a pious man. "It's not that I don't share their faith," Jazmyn said carefully. "Rather, I don't see why truth, facts, and science can't coexist with Ellmen. With these elves, I could see them, I could hear them, touch them, smell them...I've never been able to touch the face of God. It makes one wonder, especially the curious ones."

Ryken grew a smile. "My mother once told me nothing offers a swifter end to the cat than curiosity, good scholar. Perhaps you should put a leash on your curiosity."

Jazmyn feigned a gasp. "Why that would not be very scholarly of me, would it?"

"Do you know what would be?" Ryken mused.

"Do enlighten me, Your Grace."

Ryken finished his goblet of wine. "You mentioned an artifact earlier, one that gave an elf power. Tell me...could a man wield such a device?"

For the first time in their conversation, Jazmyn tensed up. The Gatekeepers had asked her something very similar. Perhaps the King is in league with them... "I'm afraid I do not know. Such a hypothesis would require extensive testing and research, not to mention possession of such an artifact. The elves were incredibly meticulous in either hiding or destroying their enchanted materials, and whatever wasn't hidden or destroyed was lost."

"What was once lost can be found, wouldn't you agree?"

Jazmyn nodded her head. "I suppose, though not without great expense. If I may ask, why do you inquire after these artifacts, Your Grace? If it pleases you?"

Ryken smiled wistfully. "When I was a boy, my mother gave me a book, The Elf, and his Magic Ring. It was written by a scholar from your college, Minister Osmanek of Gyena." Jazmyn was aware of the book, she too had read it when she was younger. Minister Osmanek would later rise to be the Chancellor of the College, though that was far before her time.

Ryken continued. "In the book, this evil elf who survived the purge kidnaps the princess of Jorden. The King sends a brave and noble knight after her, and he battles the elf to save her, only...well, the elf wins. The knight was no match for him, how could he be? The elf had a magic ring, you see, that could summon the winds at his command. When the knight climbed to the top of the tower ready to sever the elf's head from it's shoulders, the elf called upon a mere wind to knock him off the top, and sent him falling to his death. I'll never forget reading it the first time. The audacity of an author to kill off the hero of the book like that...it was the truest fairytale I ever read. There's a great lesson there, Lady Kallarya."

"And what would that lesson be, Your Grace?"

"Power is everything. What good is a sword against a wind? And what better source of power than power over the earth itself? Magic has been gone a long time in this world, but...if it could come back, and under the control of men..."

Whoever it was that sat before her, it was not the same boy-king Jazmyn met in the throne room all those days ago. She started to wonder whether or not the lackwit boy fondling himself in front of foreign dignitaries was simply a persona.

"That's an exciting theory, Your Grace, but not one without consequences."

"Consequences do not worry me. I have people to deal with those."

Jazmyn's neck tightened as she fought the urge to shake her head and roll her eyes. The luxuries of being a King. "Of course, Your Grace."

"It truly feels like a new era, doesn't it? The turn of the millennia, the reappearance of elves, magic once again loose in the world. Its a chance at a new beginning for mankind. It's all very exciting, isn't it?"

"Very exciting indeed, Your Grace."

Ryken looked at her with hungry eyes. "Thank you for your company, Scribe. You are pleasant to talk to. I would have you dismissed."

Jazmyn bowed her head. "It was an honor, Your Grace."

Jazmyn left the solar as quickly as she could without being mistaken for being rude. Her quarters within Eaglepoint weren't far from the King's solar, and she began to wonder whether that was intentional or not. There were two serving women conversing in hushed tones outside her quarters. They had plain enough faces, and Jazmyn wasn't sure if she'd seen them anywhere else before, but with all she's learned lately, it was hard not to imagine they were there to watch her. "Ladies," she said politely as she passed them and went into her quarters.

The golden light of the late afternoon sun spilled through the window and washed over the contents of her room. On the desk by her window, there were three books and a note. Curiously, she read it.

Thought you'd want to read these. Some interesting stuff in here, so I checked them out for you.

- Jaymis

That made her smile. The books were volumes regarding more elven history and mythology. The Lost Elven Artifacts: Instruments that Forged the Dynasties and Elven Mythology: Stories of the Gods. The title of the third book caught her eye, and she gasped. It was a leatherbound journal, the type a scholar would use to keep notes. The paper was yellow with age. My Notes and Inquiries Regarding the Crown of Ardellus, and the Kingdom of Valadel, by Irving Haverton.

She touched the leather cover of the book, running her fingers over the Magus' name. "Irving?" Jazmyn said quietly.

It was then someone grabbed her arms, and the bag went over her head.

She was dragged from her room, and she heard the quiet conversing of a man and woman as they carried her from her quarters out into the courtyard. She felt the sun kiss her skin for only a moment, and then she was shoved into a dark room again. There was the sound of a chain being pulled, the workings of gears and metallic contraptions, and the scraping sound of stone against stone. A dank and musty smell greeted her, and she suddenly felt steps beneath her feet as she was ushered downwards into the depths of Eaglepoint. 

    Jazmyn was surprised she didn't feel more panicked. She had almost grown accustomed to being kidnapped, taken to secret lairs, and forced to participate in secret meetings. It was an interesting thought to have. Things were so much simpler when I was just a student at the college...

    When the bag finally came off, she was greeted with a familiar face. Roslyn looked her over, took her jaw in her hands, and examined her face. Jazmyn wasn't sure what she was checking for, but after a moment or two, Roslyn let her go. "Do not speak unless you are commanded to."

    Jazmyn nodded. Now was not the time to make some witty or otherwise snide remark. Once Roslyn was free from her view, she took in her surroundings. They were in a small rotund chamber of pewter grey stone. Orange firelight from lanterns danced on the walls, and three great banners hung between them. They were purple, trimmed in gold, and emblazoned with that symbol that had come to both frighten and excite her. Crossed keys within an impaled sun...the Gatekeepers.

    The Gatekeepers themselves sat around a fine wooden table in the center of the room. They wore hooded purple robes, their faces hidden in shadow. There were seven of them seated at the table, though one sat in the center elevated from the rest. Roslyn stood to her side, as did another man she had never seen before. He was slim and wiry, with hair as blonde as the sun and eyes that were muddy brown. There was a youthfulness to him that suggested his manhood was newfound.

    The purple figure center at the table rose to his feet and deft hands went to drop his hood. The shadows fled as the lantern's light rushed in to reveal his face. Lionel Thornshield looked her up and down. "Welcome, Scribe Kallarya. We hope your conversation with King Ryken was pleasant."

    This was surely a test. What she said here would shape the rest of her evening, Jazmyn was sure of it, if not the rest of her life. "Pleasant indeed, my lord."

    Lionel's expression did not change, and gave Jazmyn no hint of what he thought of that. "You were seen snooping around the library not too long ago. You seemed to have taken an interest in elven history, as of late."

    Jazmyn shrugged her shoulders. "I wouldn't say as of late. I've long been interested in elven history. It's what my field of study was at the college when I pursued my scribehood."

    "Be that as it may," said Lionel in a tone that implied he was not amused. "The books you examined in the library suggested you have taken a particular interest in the Levellan Dynasty, and their artifacts."

    How do they know all this? I was only there earlier this morning. She saw no point in playing coy at this point. It was clear she was being watched, and closely. Did Jaymis say something to them? Can I truly trust anyone here? Ambassador Norzil warned her as much when they first arrived in New Barleis. Ears and eyes everywhere... "I have indeed, my lord."

    Lionel nodded. "You claimed to have been familiar with the name Ardellus. You claimed to have known about the Crown, and it's power. If that were the case, you wouldn't have had to visit the library and seek out information you already possessed. Tell us what you know, Scribe, and you may just walk out of here unharmed."

    Jazmyn felt her nerves come alive within her, tingling away with worry. Surely they wouldn't kill her. She was an envoy of Valdor, it was agreed upon between the Four Kingdoms that envoys would never see harm, so long as their intentions were true. Then again, they weren't the formal governing body, and her intentions as of late had been less than truthful. At the table, all of the Gatekeepers were staring at her, eyes hidden beneath darkness, purple robes shifting colors beneath the writhing flames from the lanterns in the wall.

    "The Crown of Ardellus," she said absently. The journal from her quarters came to her. My Notes and Inquiries Regarding the Crown of Ardellus, and the Kingdom of Valadel, by Irving Haverton, the journal had read. Irving knew all along. She looked up to Lionel. "Irving belonged to you, didn't he?" That's what he's been searching for all these years...

    Lionel nodded. "He did. Would you?"

    Would she? That was a question she had never considered. Were they offering her a chance to join them? She thought back to Irving and his studies. His excavations had cost fortunes, his funding and equipment were unmatched, much to the envy and near hatred of his colleagues. He had never taken an apprentice until Jazmyn, he refused to hang up his orange sash and rise within the ranks of the College.

    Because he never belonged to the College...he belonged to them. It all makes sense. Irving was bought and paid for...

    That begged the question; was she for sale? Could she dedicate her life and studies to them, this secret society hidden from the world? If it meant taking even the smallest step towards the truth, it had to be worth it. Wouldn't it?

    She met Lionel's eyes. They were wrought in anticipation. The Gatekeepers could give her everything she needed. Funding, networks, resources, influence. She could find the answers she so desperately sought, answers she'd never find through the college. She could find what it was she was looking for, what she had been chasing her whole life. She could finally have answers.

She could finally have the truth.

It was then she had her answer. "I would, my lord," she said with a bowed head.

    A faint smile crept upon Lionel's lips. "Welcome to the Gatekeepers, Jazmyn Kallarya. We have a tasking for you." He turned his attention to Roslyn. "Ensure the scribe is briefed and understands her assignment to the letter. See to it that she's properly fitted and dressed for the occasion." His eyes returned to Jazmyn. "Congratulations, Scribe Kallarya. You're to attend a ball. Please do wear something nice. Might I suggest the color purple?"