Recluce 07 - Chaos Balance

Chaos Balance

 

 

 

 

 

CX

 

 

 

 

NESSLEK SAT ON the carpet by the armchair in which Zeldyan was seated with a stack of polished wooden blocks before him. The boy chewed on the corner of one, drool coming from the corners of his mouth.

 

His mother read a scroll silently, while Gethen sipped chilled greenjuice from a goblet.

 

Finally, Zeldyan looked up. “He writes that the angels brought down fire in the night on the mines, and destroyed many of the white demons. The remainder rode back toward Cyador, leaving a blackened ruin.” She let the scroll roll into a loose cylinder and extended it toward her sire. “After vanquishing the white demons,” she added, “the angels vanished, along with Sylenia and their child. None knew where they have gone. They left a scroll saying they would return.”

 

“I will read what Fornal wrote later.” The gray-haired regent shook his head. “So we have a burned-out mine and no white demons. And no angels. Did they ride the winds?” A harsh laugh followed. “The last time I looked, they rode horses.”

 

“When mages do not wish to be seen, often they are not.”

 

“That be true enough, daughter.”

 

“I do not think they have abandoned us,” mused Zeldyan. “Though I could not say why.”

 

“They have abandoned Fornal.”

 

“Have they? They drove off the white demons.” Zeldyan offered a faint smile. “They did not even promise that.”

 

“The lord of Cyador will send all his forces against us,” pointed out the older regent, his right hand resting loosely around the crystal goblet. “You already prophesied that. More armsmen and lancers than we have ever seen.”

 

“We agreed that we had no choice.”

 

A wooden block thumped to the carpet, then clattered as it rolled off the fabric and across the stone tiles. Nesslek stood, holding the armchair and tugging at Zeldyan's leg.

 

Zeldyan laughed, but the sound was bitter.

 

“Maaaa,” said Nesslek, pulling on his mother's dark green trousers. “Maaa.”

 

“Oh, child.” She swung him up into her lap and hugged him.

 

Gethen continued after a pause. “What does your heart tell you about the angels?”

 

Zeldyan frowned.

 

“Your heart,” Gethen insisted.

 

“They are good,” she admitted. “Did they not drive off the Cyadorans and send us one shipment of copper?”

 

“That is true, but... the horses . . . and the firebolts and sneaking through the night?”

 

“They have done what needed to be done.”

 

“And, even should we prevail, Lornth will not be the same. That, more than defeat, is what our holders fear.”

 

“One way or another, Lornth will change.” The blonde regent disentangled Nesslek's fingers from her hair. “Still . . . my sire . . . you know I have not seen with the same eyes as Fornal . . . but he is worried, and he must face the white demons first.”

 

“He has cause for worry. So do we, but-”

 

“We should feed the holders the fodder we have?”

 

“And tell them that we have done as they asked.” Gethen snorted. “And send a dispatch to Lady Ellindyja pointing out that we have reclaimed the patrimony of her grandson.”

 

“Best it be done quickly, before . . .”

 

Gethen nodded.

 

“Then we will send Fornal a scroll, telling him that we will raise what other forces we can,” added Zeldyan.

 

“Few as they will be.”

 

“Few as they will be,” she confirmed.