A river from the north split to either side, the two channels sweeping around the city being built by the dwarves. Tens of thousands of dwarves labored to shape the city out of the very cliff, forming curving tiers of stone descending toward the base of the city.
The center had been hollowed out and the dwarves had turned their attention to the structures. But at the base of the city, gardens filled the level, and plant mages had grown an assortment of flora. Waterways curved through the plants, flowing to a pool the elves called Horizon’s Edge, the pool overlooking the large forest below the citadel.
Over the last two years, citizens of Erathan had moved from their kingdom and into Talinor, where they were given lands and homes. The elves had gradually taken their place, filling the breadth of the new elven kingdom.
The many visitors climbing scaffolding or sat in half carved windows. Others packed the streets and steps, craning to get a look at the garden at the base of the city. All began to cheer when Elenyr entered the gardens.
She raised the pot in her hands as she approached the center of the gardens, and turned a circle so all could see. The kingdoms of Lumineia raised their voices in a mighty shout, their voices mingling with clapping and cries of praise to Ero, whom many attributed to have saved them from Draeken. Elenyr caught Jeric’s eye, and he stifled a grin.
Gathered in a circle around the small hole in the earth, an assortment of individuals had come by invitation. Light, Fire, and Water all stood together, and Mind and Shadow joined them. Stella took her place with them, as did Lira, Willow, Lorica, and Soreena. Fire kissed the druid woman, and Shadow groaned and looked away.
“Disgusting,” he muttered.
On the opposite side of the circle, Jeric stood with Tardoq, and surprisingly Belrisa, who’d come at Tardoq’s request. Tardoq had become an Eternal, and although Belrisa had not accepted the invitation, she remained an ally and friend. Elenyr caught her gaze and smiled, and the towering dakorian smiled in turn.
Rune stood a little apart, but she looked very little like the girl she had during the war. Elenyr had not seen her in over a year, and had no idea where she’d gone, but the girl looked older, her eyes firm and steadfast. Elenyr fleetingly wondered if she would become an Eternal.
The monarchs of Lumineia occupied the next arc of the circle, with Queen Nelia standing beside her husband, the newly crowned King Wellith. He waved to the people and smiled at his young bride. The wedding had been a few months ago, but Elenyr was pleased to note the growing affection in their eyes. A good pairing.
Queen Annah stood beside her friends, a small smile of triumph on her face. She’d spent the last few months rebuilding Terros and Griffin, but had still managed to send aid to help in the construction of the new elven capital.
Now Queen Aranian, and her sister, Princess Melora, stood together, both smiling as Elenyr met their gaze. Melora had remained true to her word, and sought to repair the damage she’d caused as a member of the Order. She’d regained the trust of her people, and proven to Elenyr that she lived up to her mother’s hopes. Erisay would be proud.
The orc king, who’d succeeded his father after the war, and the gnome king stood with Queen Rynda. Towering over most of the group, she stood with her arms folded, tapping her feet impatiently.
Queen Alosia claimed the last section of the circle, and stood with Thorilian and Venia, as well as Captain Horn and Princess Serania, first in line for the throne when Alosia passed. The house of Runya had distinguished itself in the war, and when it was discovered that one of the two ruling houses had been destroyed, the house of Runya had taken its place. Captain Horn and Princess Serania were regarded highly by all races and Elenyr liked the idea of the new monarchy.
Elenyr advanced to the hole, where Senia, Alosia, and Dothlore joined her. Alosia activated the amulet on her neck and raised her voice to the city. Her booming words gradually quieted the noise.
“People of Lumineia, on this day we have much to celebrate. Our lands are healing, our people have begun to rebuild, and as of this moment, The Great Draeken War is part of history. As we plant our new mother tree, let us never forget the sacrifice of those who died for our freedoms. In this, the city of Azertorn, we welcome you, and hope our nations can forever be allies.”
Elenyr knelt beside the carefully groomed hole and removed the sapling from the pot. She placed the sapling in the hole, whereupon the roots wiggled into place and shivered in delight. Elenyr smiled and spread the soil around the plant.
“Welcome home, little one.”
The leaf caressed her hand. Elven plant mages stepped forward and infused their magic into the tree, the trunk swelling in size, the roots thickening and diving deep. Limbs stretched into the sky, and leaves blossomed from sudden buds. Ten feet, twenty, and then thirty feet. The elves retreated and the tree stretched to its newfound strength.
Alosia stepped forward and reverently placed her hand on the trunk, listening for the name the tree had chosen for herself. Many looked in Elenyr’s direction but she kept her features fixed. Elenyr had helped the sapling pick a name, but there was no need for that truth to be known.
“Le Runtáriel!” Alosia raised her voice. “She has come home!”
A cheer went up, the sound sweeping across the city of Azertorn. It spread all the way to the tenth tier, where tens of thousands waved and shouted. Elenyr smiled at the gathering, and felt their joy in her bones. They had been victorious against Draeken’s might, and all felt the triumph keenly.
When the noise had subsided, Queen Alosia motioned to Elenyr, and she stepped in front of the group. Unable to constrain her smile, she used her own sound pendent to address the gathering.
“Many have been honored in the last two years, for their bravery, valor, and sacrifice. Today there are five who deserve a special honor, the five fragments of a single shattered soul. Please step forward, and accept your reward. Her sons shifted in surprise, and then took places at her side.
What are you doing? Mind spoke into her thoughts.
You’ll find out soon enough, Elenyr said.
She then turned to the crowd, which had fallen to widespread chatter and speculation. Few knew that the fragments and Draeken had once been one and the same, and most thought Draeken had been created by Serak. At Senia’s urging, the truth of Draeken’s origin had not been recorded, and so the people viewed the shattered soul as heroes.
“These five mages were born as guardians,” Elenyr said. “And today they gain one thing they have always lacked. A name.”
She stepped in front of the fragment of Shadow, who grinned, obviously excited at the prospect. Elenyr smiled in turn, and proclaimed the first of the names that she’d carefully crafted.
“Jerison Myst,” she said, handing an amulet to Shadow. “Your new name is granted to you by the kingdoms of Lumineia. Do it honor.”
“Not if I can help it,” Shadow said with a smirk.
Elenyr smiled and stepped to Fire. “You have fought with firebirds and dragons, and so your name will be Firehawk, soon to join the clan of druids.”
Soreena smiled broadly at that, and Fire accepted the offered medallion. Elenyr advanced to the next in line, the fragment of Light. He was veritably bouncing on his feet, his excitement causing his skin to shimmer.
“Light,” she said tenderly. “You have distinguished yourself in battle, and called down light from the sky to fight the enemy. Your new name I give to you, that you will be known as Teril Gaze.”
“Epic,” he breathed, accepting his amulet.
She stepped to the next in line. Water’s expression was concerned, probably because he retained a portion of Draeken soul. He might think he did not get a name, but Elenyr swept a hand to her son.
“You have enlisted dragons and battled foes across the four corners of Lumineia. Your new name is Davin Whitethorn.”
Water inclined his head in gratitude and accepted the medallion. Elenyr stepped to the last of her sons, who regarded her with a curious expression. Elenyr removed the last amulet from the pouch and held it aloft.
“And to you, I give the name Keldon Braon.”
His lips tugged into a smile as he interpreted the last name. “A victor’s mind.”
