Varen
“Commander.”
Varen and Alwyn had traveled in silence so far, side by side up the wide road that led to the castle, where a guard allowed them both to pass. Varen had been content to part without a word; but it seemed the mage had other plans, calling for him as he dismounted his horse just inside the castle walls.
He waited, gesturing to Alwyn to continue. The smaller elf had dismounted his horse as well, which was being led off to the stables. He hesitated, then stuck his hand in a deep pocket of his robe. Varen tensed, ready to dodge or disarm; but when Alwyn pulled his hand back out, he held only a smooth, round rock that fit neatly in his palm. He offered it to Varen, hand open, and Varen could see it had a rune faintly etched on its face.
“Take this,” Alwyn said.
“What is it?” Varen asked, eying it suspiciously without reaching for it. The mage was silent for a moment before speaking again.
“I understand you trust the orc, but I know what I felt. I do not trust him,” he said. “If you are to travel with him any further, this may be of use to you, if my suspicions prove correct.”
“Whatisit?” Varen pressed, frowning.
“A teleportation rune,” Alwyn said, and all of Varen’s indignation was suddenly gone, replaced with shock. Teleportation, while possible, was widely known as one of the most difficult types of magic to accomplish. He knew that the mages of the Library had developed a means of long-distance teleportation that, so far, had not been replicated anywhere else in the world; he would never have expected it to function well enough that a mage could condense it down into a rune. Somehow, it only made him even more wary of Alwyn—just whowasthis man?
“How does it work?” Varen asked, still eying it with concern. His own magical abilities were middling; he was capable of all sorts of practical magic, but something as allegedly complicated and taxing as teleportation, though, he was sure he could not do.
“I have already inscribed it with the spell and the magic necessary to activate,” Alwyn explained. “You need only hold it in your bare hand, focus on the place you want to go, and feed it with some of your own magic to get it started. It will teleport you and anyone touching you. If you ever need to make a hasty escape, this is it. It will only work once, though, so use it judiciously.”
“When did you make this?”
For the first time, Alwyn smirked, glancing down at the stone in his hand. “We had a lot of free time out on the road, didn’t we? I had to spend the hours doing something.”
Mostly, Varen was concerned how the mage might have created something so powerful without anybody noticing; but he had already given up on learning anything about Alwyn once they parted ways. He had little knowledge of some of the more shadowy sects of mages in the crown's employ—only enough to say that they existed—and now he was more and more sure Alwyn was associated with one of them, somehow. Korik thought he might be an assassin from how readily he dispatched all the orcs in the camp with them, and Varen was starting to think that he might have been right.
Still, Alwyn was looking at him expectantly, so he took the stone. It was perfectly smooth in his hand, save for where the rune was etched in thin, precise lines.
“Thank you,” he said simply, pocketing it. “I appreciate your concern.”
Alwyn looked at him for a beat longer. This close, Varen could see he was quite young, barely an adult. He was getting up in years now, but he could still remember being full of the fire of youth—convinced he knew the world better than anyone else. He could hardly begrudge the other elf for feeling the same.
“This is where we part, then,” Alwyn finally sighed, turning away. “Best of luck on your journey home. Commander.”
“The same to you,” Varen replied, watching as Alwyn turned and headed for the castle.
He would probably end up going by the castle later anyway, but for now, he needed to check in at the barracks. With any luck, the general could meet with him sooner rather than later, and he’d make it to his aunt and uncle’s home with time to spare for supper.
The soldier standing guard in front of the barracks visibly startled as Varen approached.
“Commander Varen,” he greeted, catching himself as he stood stiffly at attention. “Welcome, sir.”
“Soldier,” he said, nodding. “Is General Palleas available?”
Half an hour later, the general bustled into his office where Varen had been waiting. Varen stood the moment the door opened, but the other man waved him back down.
“What’s happened, then?” General Palleas asked, sitting down across from him. The older elf’s hair was cropped short and losing its vibrance, now a dull grayish brown. Deep lines carved a path from his eyes down to his cheeks. He had been the general when Varen first became an officer, a fixture of the Aefrayan army. The man was ancient, even for an elf; and though he was somber, he seemed as spry as ever.
“Orc rebels, sir, only a few day’s ride from the border,” Varen replied. “They made the mistake of chasing us down and took my sister, but we tracked them to a camp, where we found seven more elves being held captive by them. There were thirteen orcs, and we found evidence of them being a small offshoot of a larger rebel force.”
Palleas was silent as Varen explained the whole affair, pale eyes affixed at the map on the desk between them, considering.
“We are aware of the rebels, but such kidnapping is... new. Brazen,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Show me where their camp was. Any idea where the greater force might be stationed?”
Varen marked on the map his best approximations of where they’d been accosted on the road, where the captive elves were being held, the direction Korik believed the larger camp to be, and the places where the other elves reported having been attacked as well.
“May I be frank with you?” Varen asked once he’d marked each location. Palleas was staring down thoughtfully at the map, and gestured for him to continue. “From what I can see, all this points toward the rebel forces making a move on Aefraya, not the new king. I suspect that if it is Zesh spearheading this, he’s afraid to challenge King Zorvut outright again. So they’re hoping that the power structure in Drol Kuggradh is still so new and untested that if they make a serious move on Aefraya, it will fall apart. I don’t know if they were capturing elves simply because they’re slavers, or if they had some other purpose. But either way, it seems this force has been moving south toward the capital, not east toward Drol Kuggradh.”
