Hope Sundered

Keila, Ekard, and the Nokri reached the waterfall just before dusk, and the sight was nothing short of spectacular. The river hurtled over the sharp precipice with unbridled power, rumbling long before the cascade came into view.

The drop was steep and long, surrounded on both sides by boulders as large as Chastin houses. The bottom was obscured by a cloud of sparkling mist. In the distance to the south, the river meandered on its way, undeterred by the unexpected plummet.

The troupe approached the cliff’s edge not far from the falls themselves, where they proceeded to descend along a narrow path, heading closer to the falling pillar of water. Sekka and the other Nokri paid little heed to the treacherous trail. Their casual confidence bespoke the countless times they’d taken this route.

The ledge disappeared behind the thick curtain of frothy water, leading the party to the mouth of a cave. Sekka promptly loosed a shrill whistle mimicking a bird call. Seconds later a similar response came from within the tunnel’s dark depths, prompting the party to continue.

They entered single-file and walked straight until the corridor opened into a spacious cavern. After her eyes adjusted, Keila noticed several shafts of pale light filtering down from the rocky ceiling.

As she passed beneath one, she glanced up to see fissures in the stone which allowed fresh air and daylight to penetrate the subterranean grotto. The wider gaps were covered by a web of interweaving tree roots, concealing them from above.

They arrived in what appeared to be a formal courtyard. The stone walls were shaped and decorated with a myriad of carvings, as was the floor. Several other tunnels branched off from this room, delving deeper into the rock. An empty wooden throne adorned with runes sat up against the back wall.

Dozens of Nokri men and women were milling about but stopped to take note of the new arrivals. All eyes seemed to be on Keila and Ekard. Astonished whispers permeated the crowd, and awestruck stares gave her the impression she was the first outsider to be brought here.

Sekka addressed the gathering with the ease of practiced formality. Keila managed to discern his intentions from his tone and body language. He apologized for breaking protocol, but insisted it was necessary. She caught the word ‘malka’ and assumed he was requesting an audience with their leader.

Silence filled the room when he finished speaking. Three young Nokri boys came forward to attend the horses while others disappeared down the various corridors. Sekka led his party toward the empty throne but stopped at a respectable distance. There they waited, until a commotion near the left tunnel told them the Nokri monarch was approaching.

The woman who emerged was breathtaking. She was elegant in feature and manner despite her age, which Keila guessed to be closer to forty than thirty. Her flowing mane of vibrant orange hair was long and wavy, framing her face and shoulders. Her golden eyes reflected a strong balance of wisdom and intelligence.

The woman carried herself with a regal poise befitting her station but lacked the haughty air of superiority clinging to most people of power and influence. She smiled at her people as she passed them, acknowledging each one as if they were dear friends. It was a sincere gesture, devoid of condescension or empty flattery. It was obvious her people respected her, adored her, and valued her leadership.

“Except for the eyes, she looks a lot like you,” Ekard whispered to Keila, awestruck. That fact had not escaped her observation either.

She remembered how her father used to describe her mother’s beauty and tell her over and over just how similar they were in appearance. As a young girl Keila would stare at her reflection in the lake on a calm day and imagine they were face to face.

The queen took her place upon the throne, and the room grew quiet. The tall, strong Nokri woman who’d entered behind her now stood to her right, only inches away. A bodyguard, Keila concluded, noticing the woman’s eyes darting about the room in an unceasing circuit.

The queen’s gaze fell upon Sekka and she smiled. She bade him to step forward and he complied, kneeling at her feet. She placed a tender hand upon his cheek and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. He covered her hand with his and held the pose for several heartbeats, then rose and took one step back.

Sekka addressed his sovereign, no doubt telling her about the pair of kokitus he’d encountered in the wilds. He said something else Keila couldn’t begin to decipher from context alone. The queen listened intently to every word with stoic patience, though her rapid breathing betrayed an internal anxiety.

After Sekka finished his report, the queen looked at Keila and with a trembling hand, beckoned her to approach. Reluctantly she complied, moving to stand beside Sekka.

Several tense seconds passed as the queen scrutinized her from head to toe with a look trapped somewhere between disbelief and admiration. She met Keila’s gaze and lifted her hand as if to touch Keila’s face but stopped short, unsure if she should.

“You have so much of your father in you,” the queen said in fluent Avelirian, much to Keila’s shock.

“Ginica Malka,” Sekka announced, introducing Keila to the Nokri queen.

“My mother’s name was Ginica,” Keila managed in a tenuous whisper.

Her whole body trembled as her heart became a battleground between possibility and denial. This was too much to accept, and it appeared she was not alone in her struggle.

The queen’s foreign eyes welled with tears and spilled forth like twin waterfalls, tiny replicas of the aquatic avalanche guarding the tunnel’s entrance.

Ginica smiled, attempting to stifle a giddy laugh of pure joy. In flawless Avelirian she said, “I’ve waited so long for this moment, my Keila.”