Sky Riders: The Rising Sun

Eliana awoke with the feeling that something was terribly, irreparably wrong. She glanced around, realizing she was in the tunic and trousers she’d worn the day before. Her boots were carelessly tossed onto the ground beside the bed. A second pair lay beside them.

Caelum’s blonde head rested on her chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist. She looked down at him, her heart aching at the sight. He looked like a frightened child, clinging to his mother after a bad dream. She sighed quietly and absentmindedly began to run her fingers through his short hair.

Two emerald eyes peered at her over the foot of the bed. “You’re awake.”

“Yes,” she answered silently. “Is it morning yet?”

Oriens looked up at the circular opening over his head. “Not yet, I think. It’s difficult to tell with those storm clouds still lingering, but dawn should be near.”

She turned her eyes back to the young man who held her so tightly in his sleep. “I wish there was something I could do for him,” she thought wistfully. “I would give anything to take his pain away.”

“Right now, I think this is the best you can do for him, Eliana. Denio has Kana to comfort him, and Caelum needs you. He just needs you to be there for him.”

As if he had heard Oriens say his name, Caelum’s eyelids fluttered, and he blinked blearily. He sat up, releasing Eliana from his firm grip, and glanced around as if unsure of where he was. When his gaze fell on her, realization seemed to settle on him. Sadness clouded his eyes, and he sank back onto the pillow beside her.

“Please,” he whispered, “tell me it was just a nightmare.” His voice was heavy with pain.

Eliana curled up to his side and rested her head on his chest, putting one arm around him. “I’m sorry,” she answered quietly.

He put his arms around her again, pressing his cheek against her hair and holding her like she was the only thing connecting him to the world. “So she’s really gone…”

He spoke silently now, and Eliana knew it was because he didn’t have the strength to say the words aloud. But she could hear the waver in his thoughts, the emotion that tilted on the brink of despair. She turned her eyes up to his face and found him looking back at her intently. His expression was agonized. Then he turned and looked at Oriens.

She felt Caelum enter her dragon’s mind and heard his silent voice say, “Promise me you will always protect her. Never let anything happen to her.”

Emerald eyes bore into sapphire ones and Oriens answered, “You know I will. I love her as well.”

A small, sad smile touched Caelum’s face. “I know. And I am grateful for that. If anyone can protect her better than I can, it’s you, Oriens.”

The golden head dipped slightly in response, and Caelum turned his eyes back to her. He must have known she’d been listening, because he said aloud, “And you… I want a promise from you as well.” He spoke softly, as if he still did not trust his voice to remain steady.

“Anything,” she replied.

His thumb stroked her cheek as it had so many times before, but there was something more serious in his demeanor now. “Never leave me,” he breathed.

Eliana’s heart throbbed—not because of his words or the sweet tenderness in his voice, but because she knew that he asked for a promise she could never make. Her feet were planted firmly on the path of a Rider, and she would not stray from it, as much as her heart begged her to. They were going to war, and she was leading them. And she knew that death could take her from him in an instant.

She wouldn’t make a promise that she couldn’t keep. So she took his face in her hands and kissed him gently, avoiding having to answer. She tasted salt on his lips. He was crying again, and so was she.

“Why must he love me?” she thought agonizingly. “This would all be easier if his feelings had never changed from that moment we met on the river, if he had never seen me as anything more than a Rider, and the answer to that prophecy.”

He cared for her more than she could stand, because she knew that she could hurt him, and she hated herself for it. She forced herself to pull away, and she slid out of his arms. He looked up at her in bewilderment as she grabbed her boots and pulled them on.

“I have to take care of some things,” she said in answer to his unspoken questions.

She felt his eyes on her back as she grabbed Oriens’ saddle. She didn’t dare look back and meet his gaze. If she did, she knew that she would end up back in his arms, unable to make herself leave again. She had to get herself away from him, for his own sake—before he could love her more.

Without looking back, she saddled the golden dragon, mounted, and they rose through the top of the mountain. In her mind, she pictured a corner of the deserted beach. Oriens understood, as he always did, and turned towards the cliffs on the eastern side of Amiscan.

He descended to the sandy shoreline at the base of the rock face. His four massive feet sank into the sand beneath his weight, and Eliana slid to the ground. No sooner had her feet touched sand than her knees buckled beneath her, and she slumped against Oriens’ side, sinking to sit on the damp beach. She hugged her knees to her chest and cried—for Raena, for Ivi, and for Caelum, who she knew she had hurt with her sudden disappearance.

A hundred emotions flooded through her, each of them ending up as teardrops on the sand beneath her. Oriens remained silent, a comforting presence against her back and in her mind. He let her weep until there was nothing left, and then he finally spoke.

“Why does his affection upset you, little one?”

Eliana stared at her hands, studying them with unprecedented fascination. There were slight calluses from her bow and sword. Her Rider’s mark shone in the dawn sunlight, a shimmering, silvery gold—prominent and permanent.

“Little one?” Oriens prodded.

She sighed and leaned her head back against his hard scales. “It scares me.”

The dragon rested his head on the sand, curling until his nose touched his tail, entirely encircling his Rider. A large green eye gazed at her. “Does my affection scare you?”

“Of course not. Why would it?”

She felt him shrug slightly. “I love you more than Caelum ever could. And you love me more than you love him. So, if the affection that is between the two of you frightens you so greatly, shouldn’t our bond frighten you even more?”

“It’s just… It’s different, Oriens. You know that.”

“Yes, I know. But I still don’t see the reason for your fear. Caelum is your match, Eliana, and you are his.”

She paused, staring out at the whispering ocean. Finally, she said to the dragon that encircled her, “Do you think I’m being selfish, Oriens? I’ve left him when he needs me most… I know I must have hurt him, but…”

Oriens sighed. “No, Eliana. I do not think you are being selfish. Quite the contrary. True, you may have wounded him by leaving him now. But if you had only been concerned for yourself—if you were truly selfish—you would have stayed with him. You would allow yourself to love him and him to love you without a ghost of a second thought. But you are so concerned with his heart that you are willing to break your own to protect him from pain. You are as selfless as I have ever seen you be.”

She lay down in the sand and curled up close to Oriens’ head, stroking his bony cheek with one hand. He closed his eyes and sighed with contentment. “Thank you, Oriens. I could never make it through this without you. You are the most wonderful thing to ever happen to me.”

“And we,” he added, a smug note in his silent voice, “are the most wonderful thing to happen to Paerolia.”

Eliana laughed for the first time in what felt like centuries. “My, you are conceited,” she remarked.

Oriens blew out a puff of smoke from his nostrils as he snorted. “I’m a dragon. I have every right to be.”

~*~

For weeks, Caelum seemed to avoid her. Whatever reason he thought she had for leaving him on that morning, he didn’t ask. Their only contact was brief and formal—two army captains, making plans for the coming battle. Eliana saw the change coming over him. His eyes, once so bright and filled with emotion, were now dark and serious. He looked worn and haggard, as if he had lost everything in his life that he cared for.

Nearly a month after his mother’s death, he appeared in Eliana’s quarters for the first time since that morning. Her heart fluttered when she saw him standing there, at the end of the tunnel, looking at her. They had been through weeks like these before, and she prayed that it was finally coming to an end again, that he would speak to her in his usual gentle, smiling manner.

“Come with me,” he said flatly. “Denio said he has a plan, and he wishes to discuss it with us.”

Her heart fell into the pit of her stomach with a painfully hollow sound. She nodded numbly and stood, strapping her golden sword to her waist and following him down the tunnel. Oriens had left for a hunt just a few minutes before, but sensing her distress, he spoke to her mind.

“I can return to you if you wish,” he said. “I can be by your side.”

“It’s alright,” she answered flatly. “Find yourself something to eat. I’ll be fine.”

He sighed in her thoughts. “Very well, but I will stay close, in case you need me.”

“Thank you, Oriens.”

Eliana followed the fair-haired prince to the hollow tree where he lived with Denio and Kana. They climbed the winding stairs and found four people seated around a table. Denio sat at the head with Kana at his right hand. Teleas and Caedis sat as far as they could from the couple. Their backs were rigid with disquiet; Eliana knew they were horribly uncomfortable being inside of a tree.

Caelum moved to sit on Denio’s left, and Eliana sat in the only remaining seat, on Kana’s right. His blue eyes never once looked at her. Denio nodded in the Rider’s direction, acknowledging her presence. He, too, was beginning to look worn for someone so young. But his eyes, at least, still held some emotion.

“Well, what’s your bright idea?” Teleas barked roughly. His words came out sharp and cross, but Eliana knew it was due only to his eagerness to escape the tree.

Denio raised an eyebrow at being addressed so harshly, but he continued without hesitation. “Even with our increased numbers since the humans and elves joined forces, we are no match for Nocens’ armies. We need new recruits.”

Caedis rolled his brown eyes. “Well, obviously! We know this already.”

Caelum turned his cold eyes on the man. “You would do well to watch your tongue when you speak to my brother and our king.” The elf’s eyes and voice still held no emotion, but his deathly whisper sent the message more clearly than if he had shouted. Caedis’ mouth clamped shut as if his lips had been welded together.

Denio continued as if nothing had occurred. “Yes, we have already sent ambassadors to Vereor and other human cities, as well as the few outlying elven clans. Still, I fear that we will not be able to gather enough recruits from those places alone.”

“So what do you suggest?” Eliana asked. Caelum’s eyes briefly flickered towards her at the sound of her voice, but he quickly redirected his gaze towards his brother.

Denio answered with one word. “Dwarves.”

Eliana frowned in confusion as Caedis and Teleas let out exclamations of disbelief. Even Caelum raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Dwarves?” Teleas shouted, standing and pounding a hand on the table. “We are already stretching our limits by fighting with elves!”

“How many different kinds of monsters do you expect us to ally ourselves with?” Caedis spat.

Caelum was on his feet in a flash, sword loosed from its sheath and pointed at Caedis’ throat. Eliana reacted without thinking. She leapt to her feet, her hand on the hilt of her sword, and slid across the table, landing on the opposite side. She unsheathed her sword in one quick movement and held it to the base of Caelum’s neck.

His blue eyes turned to her, truly looking at her for the first time in nearly a month. She thought she saw a moment of surprise pass across their empty, blue depths. All eyes in the room were on the Rider and her golden blade, its point pressed lightly to Caelum’s pale skin.

“Drop your sword, Captain,” she said in a low voice.

His gaze locked on hers, his face calm and unreadable. Without removing his eyes from her face, he lowered the point of his sword from Caedis’ neck. Eliana continued to stare at him down the length of her sword, remembering the time when he had held her in such a position on the bank of a rushing river.

“It’s your turn now, Rider,” he said calmly, jerking her out of her reverie.

She hastily dropped her sword to her side and slid its golden length back into its sheath. Without another word, Caelum returned to his seat. Eliana quickly strode back to her side of the table and returned to her place beside Kana. The young queen gave her a wary, slightly frightened glance.

“That was unwise, Eliana,” Oriens scolded her.

She mentally swatted away his words like an insect, focusing her attention on Denio. He had his fingers pressed to his temples, his eyes closed. It was apparent that the stresses of running the elven kingdom without his mother’s aid were beginning to take their toll.

“Why must we always come to this?” he asked, his low voice tight and distressed. “Are we not allies?”

“Allies,” Teleas answered calmly, “but not friends. We share a mutual interest—dethroning Nocens—and nothing more.”

Eliana attempted to redirect the conversation and ease some of the tension, which she knew she was partially responsible for. “I thought dwarves were a myth,” she said, “just a scary story for children.”

In Vegrandis, dwarves had been the topics of horror stories to frighten children from going out at night without an adult. They were supposed to be hairy, monstrous imitations of men that only came out after sundown to feed on wayward children. They would drag the child back into the ground and cut their heart out while the child was still screaming. The stories had terrified her as a child, and she was consistently back in Otium’s home before sunset.

“Nay,” Denio answered, “they are just as real as you or I, though no one has spoken to one in centuries. They were driven underground by one of Nocens’ ancestors long ago. They are supposed to be some of the finest metal- and stone-workers in all of Paerolia.”

“How could you possibly know any of this?” Teleas asked skeptically.

There was a gleam of excitement in Denio’s eyes and, for a moment, he looked like the young prince Eliana had met, rather than the worn king he seemed to be now. “We have found the entrance to one of their tunnels.”

Eliana leaned forward excitedly. “So they really exist? Are all of the stories true?”

Denio shook his head slightly. “Your stories are only near to the truth regarding their appearance, and the fact that they live underground. Dwarves have always had a love for the stone, and so they have always made their homes in it; it was only after Nocens’ ancestors attempted to eradicate them that they took shelter in their tunnels permanently. They are also quite small—perhaps four feet tall—and the men tend to be rather hairy, though no hairier than if a human man refused to tame his beard.”

“So where are they?” she asked.

“Right beneath our feet,” he answered with a slight grin.

Teleas rolled his eyes. “You couldn’t possibly know this.”

A white form seemed to suddenly materialize at Denio’s side; Eliana realized that he had been lying under the table the entire time, but he now jumped up onto the table in front of them. Teleas and Caedis seemed to shrink back against their chairs as Astrum’s wide golden eyes gazed at them. The Seer seemed to smirk a little, evidently amused by the humans’ discomfort.

“Perhaps I can shed some light on the matter,” Astrum said in his smooth, deep voice.

Eliana saw both men’s Adam’s apples rise and fall as they gulped. She suppressed a chuckle.

Astrum continued, “I discovered the dwarves’ location two days ago. There is a hidden entrance from the beach, which enters a complicated maze of caverns. There are torches and the marks of boots in the dirt, evidence that the dwarves are still living there. It is likely that they have been beneath Amiscan for decades, if not centuries.”

Six pairs of eyes stared at Astrum for a long moment. At last, Caelum spoke, his voice low and flat, “When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow,” Denio answered.

“What do you mean ‘tomorrow’?” Teleas snapped. “Unless you mean we are going to eradicate those beasts, the answer should be ‘never!’”

Caelum gazed at the red-haired man, his voice filled with venom. “If you and your men are afraid to face a group of waist-high men, so be it. My men and I will go gain the dwarves’ support. You may hide in your huts if you wish.”

Eliana watched in amused surprise as the burly man seemed to shrink into his chair under the lithe prince’s dangerous gaze. He didn’t even protest at the slight on his and his men’s courage. He simply gave a slight nod and muttered, “We will go.”

The blue eyes turned back to his brother, who wore a slight smirk at Teleas’s obvious discomfort. “Very well,” the young king said. “Each of you gather your finest men and meet on the cliffs tomorrow morning.” He turned his violet eyes on the Rider. “Eliana, we will need you to come as well, of course, though the entrance is too small for Oriens to enter. However, the mark on your hand should be evidence enough to prove to the dwarves who you are.”

She nodded, her eyes flickering to Caelum. She expected some kind of reaction to Denio’s instructions. There was no knowing whether or not the dwarves would be dangerous, and she hoped to see come kind of discomfort in his expression at the idea of her climbing down into a tunnel towards a potential threat. But there was nothing. It looked as if he had not even heard that she would be marching into a precarious situation. Or if he had, he certainly didn’t seem to care.

“Very well,” she thought. “If he doesn’t care…”

She looked at the king again. “I believe that fewer may be better in this case, Denio. Taking too many men may make the dwarves feel threatened. I think that I should go with just one human and one elf.”

She glanced at Caelum and was pleased to see his lips pursed slightly in distaste at the idea. However, it was not enough for her. She needed emotion from him, some kind of reaction that would prove that a heart still beat beneath that cold exterior of stone.

“If it’s alright with you,” she went on, “I would like to select my own companions—Caedis and Iocus.”

Caelum’s eyes turned to her, sharp and disbelieving, at last showing some emotion. She felt a smug sense of triumph.

Denio seemed to think this over for a moment, then said, “I suppose that seems reasponable.”

“What do you mean ‘reasonable’?” Caelum snapped. Even his brother seemed to be startled by the sudden expansion of his emotional capacity. “That is the most ridiculous and unreasonable plan I have ever heard!”

Eliana crossed her arms over her chest and gazed across the table at him coldly. “What are you so upset about, Caelum?” she asked in a smooth, calm voice. “You have nothing to lose.”

He looked briefly wounded, and then realization seemed to hit him, and his eyes narrowed in anger; he knew exactly what she was trying to do. “Why are you doing this, Eliana?” he hissed.

She turned her eyes away from him, neither able nor willing to answer his question. She spoke to Denio again. “As long as you think my plan is reasonable, Denio, I say we move forward. Iocus, Caedis, and I will leave in the morning.” She looked back at Caelum. “You can deliver that message to Iocus for me, can’t you, Captain?”

His answer was low and dangerous. “Yes.”

“Perfect.”