Author's note: Rewrite of Chapter One (2021-08-11)

"Mother, please. Leave now, I have an important matter to discuss with my captain."

"This snake. You should not trust her so easily. I have warned you time and again. Yet you promoted her to this position. Have you no fear, Món; have you no concern for your safety?"

"My lady," Edileth interrupted. "I have never borne your family ill will."

"Is that why Veshmón is a cripple, why my husband's body now lies in the hall of lords?" Lady Westrienda's voice was sharp, her gaze icy. "You may say what you must, my son, but I shall stay here to ensure she doesn't enchant you with her mind games. I already know the details of your discussion, so don't use the excuse of secrecy to try dispelling me."

Lady Westrienda lowered herself into a chair in the corner, her gaze fixed upon Edileth. Veshmón sighed and, after giving Edielth an apologetic look, continued speaking. "As I said, I would prefer to keep you in Kerindh. But the Fíthni have made it clear; they will no longer accept any excuses. To refuse would result in...unpleasant repercussions."

"What am I meant to do?"

"We received word that the elf who had located the Tomes was attacked in the mountains north of the Twin Cities. He was found and, before passing, requested that the elf who found him take the Tomes to Repind. You are to meet with Repind and bring the book to the ruins of Famath. There, the remaining members shall assemble, after which point, Torben will be leading the party to Filne-Semmit."

"And when I arrive there? Will my part in the Tomes' journey be over?"

"I cannot say; the Fíthni gave me no information concerning such matters. If Feridh wills, it is my hope they will release you, that you may return."

Lady Westrienda scoffed.

"Of course," Veshmón continued, "there's always the chance that our suspicions are not ill placed."

Edileth stepped forward, then – keenly aware of Lady Westrienda's eyes boring into her – stopped. "What of the Guard?"

"Of course, you'll need to select a temporary replacement."

"And what of you?"

Veshmón flushed and his eyes darted toward Lady Westrienda, who sat a little straighter. "I don't know what you're implying, Ed, but you needn't worry about me."

Edileth frowned. "If I should fail the Fíthni, what are the repercussions you mentioned? Will you truly be well?"

"Ah, that. You need not concern yourself with such things. Follow the Elders' instructions and all should be well here."

"When am I to leave?"

"This is a matter of great urgency. You've just finished training our newest Guard and I hate to pressure you; when do you think you can be ready?"

This is it, then? No time to prepare? Gather your things and go? She swallowed, her heart pounding. "Two days. I need to ready my replacement, plan my route, and collect provisions."

"Very well. If you need anything, do not hesitate to seek my aid." Veshmón gestured for the entrance. "Come, I shall see you out."

They moved into the hallway and, with a quick glance over his shoulder, Veshmón made certain his mother had not followed them. He rested his hand on Edileth's shoulder. "Meet me in two turns. The usual location. In the meantime, get some rest. It looks like those recruits gave you a challenge this time 'round."

He patted Edileth's arm and returned to the anteroom. She heard him address his mother but did not linger to listen. Instead, Edileth wound through the halls until she had arrived at the barracks. She lowered herself onto her cot and stretched the muscles in her neck.

The Fíthni had been silent for several summers and, though she should have known better, Edileth had hoped it would remain that way. What had changed now, that they should renew their pursuit of her Gift? Edileth leaned back with a sigh and tried to calm her whirring thoughts.

Some time later, her rest was disturbed by a tempest – one she knew all too well. Diathra swept into the room, raven locks framing a reddened face, hands balled into fists. She marched up to Edileth and dragged her out of the cot.

"What's this I hear about you leaving Kerindh, eh? Gone and got yourself into trouble, did you?"

"Who–"

"I've got ears, haven't I? It doesn't matter where I heard the information; the point is, you'd better take care of yourself. I didn't spend all those summers looking after you to have you go and die at the hands of some Si-olian brute."

"Please." Edileth brushed off Diathra's hands. "I've enough skill with weapons. And I'll not be alone."

"That's just as well. You may be sufficient in the Guard, but you are a bit dim."

"Are you worried about me?"

Diathra sniffed. "Not in the least. I just don't want you making Kerindh the laughingstock of Gael-Narenth."

Edileth shook her head and moved to a small basin. She washed the grime from her hands and face before changing into a fresh tunic. Diathra studied her with a critical gaze but kept her thoughts to herself. She hovered near; her presence filling the room with tension. Edileth turned to face her. "Is there something more?"

"I shan't have time to see you off. Take this." She shoved something into Edileth's hand. "May it remind you of home."

Diathra smiled – if her tight-lipped expression could be called such. She sniffed again and left the room, her gown churning like storm-tossed waves. Edileth grinned and turned her attention to the small linen bag Diathra had given her. She pulled out a silver pendant displaying the Kerindhian heraldry: a sun rising between two peaks, a sword and spear crossed below them.

A knot formed in her throat. She pulled the pendant over her head, felt the weight of it against her chest. Edileth brushed her fingers against the cool metal, thinking of all the times Diathra had scolded her, insisting she behave appropriately instead of running amok like the urchins in the streets. Only now did Edileth truly understand that Diathra had shown kindness and affection in her own way.

Edileth left the barracks, heading for one of the seldom-used halls of the keep. As children, she and Veshmón had roamed these halls, imagining themselves seekers of lost treasure, knights on a journey to save the land from doom, or royalty hosting extravagant balls. When Lady Westrienda had learned of Edileth's Gift, she had tried to keep her away from the baron-to-be. But Veshmón was strong-willed, even then.

Sunlight filtered through the high arches, leaving golden patches on the opposite wall. Edielth entered an alcove bathed in the radiance. She moved through a false wall, into a narrow passage. She and Veshmón had used such hidden passages to torment the servants of Merrím Villelle in their youth. But when their friendship had been discouraged, the halls had become a refuge.

Before long, Edileth stepped into a chamber with an opening looking out to the valley. She moved toward the opening, sitting at the edge and allowing her feet to dangle over the cliff-face. Edileth leaned forward; the trees danced in an autumnal gale far below and in the distance waterfalls roared. A few moments later, a shuffling signaled Veshmón's arrival.

"You take delight in tormenting me, don't you?"

Edileth smirked. "I'm sitting down; nothing will happen."

"Feridh preserve me. You're too stubborn for your own good, Ed. One of these days, it's going to find you in a nice mess."

Edileth turned. Veshmón seated himself on an old stool they had once secreted away from an unused chamber. He looked out to the valley for a moment before speaking again.

"I apologize for my mother's interruption; to say nothing of her behaviour. I'm not submitting to the Fíthni to retain my title."

"I know."

"I'm sorry, Edileth. I wish there were a way to prevent this. My father never trusted the Fíthni. He gave me little enough explanation, but I always suspected it had to do with his time serving the elders with your father."

They sat in silence for a few moments. Edileth wondered, not for the first time, who her parents had been, why they had left her with Lord Dhain. She had no memories; only names seldom mentioned and whispered rumours.

Edileth pulled her legs up and crossed them. "Why now?"

"You mean the elders? I can only assume that we are losing ground on the fronts. The Fíthni don't share much unless it suits them, but I have heard reports from those on the western borders. Si-olian forces are gathering in Fekklorn."

"Again?"

"Yes. Only this time, with more numbers than we've yet seen. And Akkheron has made yet another dark creature, these more intelligent than the kró'ttol. Though it has yet to touch the common elf in our corner of the realm, tensions are rising throughout Gael-Narenth. We've avoided all-out war so far, but no longer, I'm afraid."