***CONTAINS SPOILERS***
Sneak peek at a draft chapter from WIP book 2 in the Ardalencor series. This chapter follows Revna Lyjos who makes a dramatic appearance in the epilogue of book 1 – In Times of War: A Tale of Ardalencor. Learn more about Revna and her family on the Wizards and Warriors page.
REVNA’S CHAPTER
For the countless time Revna Lyjos peered around the barn, still unsure of her next move. Beyond the short row of horse stalls, the wooden building stood empty save for neat stacks of hay bales, sundry farming implements, and shelves of equestrian gear. The watcher from the Order, the man who had sensed her intrusion and discovered her identity, had tossed a hay bale into an empty horse stall, telling Revna to sit there until he returned.
The young woman, not yet twenty, had quickly tired of sitting in the stall but felt venturing near the barn’s doors would be a move too far. A solitary brass lantern hung near the doors. Revna bit her lip, wondering if it was more than just a simple lantern. She contemplated grabbing a hand sickle or a horseshoe hammer but decided against it.
Revna wore a wrinkled, long sleeve, long hem shirt cut in the commoner style. Embroidered brown piping embellished the lower hem and neckline of the yellow shirt. A dull red vest of thick felt traced the curves of her svelte body. Sturdy leather bracers encased her forearms. Her loose wool pants of drab red and brown were tucked into soft brown boots with simple lacing.
Looking once more at the rafters, Revna again saw nothing of interest in the sprawling hay. Lowering her gaze, she pressed a hand against the barn’s wall. Revna considered what awaited on the other side; and while the overlapping boards held firm, she figured she could break a few easily enough.
“Just a barn. Hay and horse shit,” she mumbled to herself in an elven tongue. “Must be other buildings. How much is hidden?”
Revna paced along the horse stalls, poorly hiding her irritation. She tried to pet one of the horses, but it largely ignored her, just snorting in the chilled air. She swept strands of her short, flaxen hair from her eyes and looked again at the rafters. “Maybe break a hole in the roof,” the half-elf sullenly mused, searching for the best way to escape.
A sudden noise near the wide double doors sharpened Revna’s focus. Her slightly elongated ears tingled at the sound of muffled voices.
The man who she had attacked, and who had gotten the better of her, returned alone. He was middle-aged but looked older, his left eye nearly pulled closed by a long scar from temple to cheek. He patted the end of his mangled beard and gave the young woman an appraising look. He sniffed, the smell of burnt hair a pervading reminder of their initial meeting. “Have you given any thought to my offer?”
“You’ve been gone for a while,” she sniped.
“You’re free to leave anytime,” he said dryly and motioned to the open door.
“Always some trick with you wizards,” Revna sneered. She figured leaving the open stall was a simple test, however, if she were to leave the barn, she dreaded what may await. Revna thought she had been observed all along or that some restraining magic awaited just beyond the stable. Tried as she had, if magic pervaded, she could not comprehend it now. Fear radiated through her body. “My father told us to keep our distance from your kind.”
“And yet here you are.” The man pushed a thin smile. “I regret the delay. I had to discuss your presence with my companions. You can imagine how startled they were to learn someone had found the way here… and tried to kill one of their friends.”
“I didn’t—”
The man raised his hand, and she quieted. “When I explained who you were, naturally, that needed a bit more time.” The man pulled his cloak tighter and folded his arms. “Why don’t you tell me one more time, what are you doing here?”
Revna folded her arms in mockery, but all thoughts of subterfuge readily abandoned her. “I’ve heard this place mentioned before. Rumors. The Hayloft. The hidden fields where you wizards concoct new forms of magic or whatever else you do. Ardalencor isn’t big, but the location has always stayed a mystery.”
“Who told you about this place?” the man prodded gently.
“Do you spend much time in Ravalas?” Revna laughed. “My father is the Commander of the Lifeguards. You hear all sorts of things said in the halls of the royal palace.” The young half-elf woman found it hard to stop laughing. “Such a silly question. Forgive me, Wizard, I am laughing at you and don’t know your name.”
“Gylfoy.” He decided not to clarify his exact place in the Order.
“My pleasure, Gylfoy,” she said in feigned courtly fashion.
“You’ve been walking across the entire country looking for this place?” he asked with raised eyebrows. “How did you know to look here? No one in the country knows where this place is, and you found it.”
“I didn’t know I would find it. I came across it by chance. One day while riding, I noticed how light strangely struck a few trees. I didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was just a kaldoon’s illusion? I forgot about it for a long while, but something in my mind told me to return.”
“Who did you tell?”
“No one,” she insisted. “I didn’t know what it was. Maybe I imagined it. It was there and then gone.”
“No one?” Gylfoy chuckled to hide his worry. “You elves must tell everyone of your brilliance. You’re far too vain. Even when lying you want everyone to know it. You have the tell, a twitch in your face,” Gylfoy bluffed, but it had the intended effect.
“I promise,” she exclaimed. “I know how things are at court. If you say anything, within a day, half the city knows. Besides, you know how many eyes and ears Silverface has around the country,” she said with a dramatic sweep of her hand. “You don’t tell others that you are sneaking around the Order and expect it to turn out well. Even if those you trust, those you tell, even if they’re not already trapped in a wizard’s pocket, they may report you at the mere mention, even a joke.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’ve heard the stories from my father about people falling ill, going mad, or disappearing.”
Revna thought the Order was powerful, but its aura of power could be overwhelming, even paralyzing. She had to force herself to remember that the Order could not be everywhere at once, and it had failed to stop the invasion or detect the treason that split the country. “I wanted the adventure for myself,” she finally added. “I didn’t want anyone to talk me out of it.”
Revna turned away, expecting her end to be near.
When she turned back, Gylfoy had not moved.
“And you came right back after seeing the light on the trees?”
“Months later. When I tried again, I couldn’t find the spot. It seemed a faint memory.” Revna rubbed her forehead. “A dream. Like the land was trying to make me go in all directions. Make me forget.”
Gylfoy tried to appear disinterested, yet he hoped to gain insight into this rare talent, the first to infiltrate their stronghold. “Did you learn this at the fire temples?” he prompted.
“The colonies are old Lifeguards and other elves who fled the wars. They just want to be left alone,” she declared in defense of the enclave settlements near Jevatryn.
“So, they put you up to this?” His voice rose sharply.
“No! I study there… I attend meditation,” she recovered. “I learned to be observant of the world, but I told no one.” Revna pondered how much the Order actually knew about the fire temples. She reasoned some temple acolytes must be in the pay of the Order.
“An elf is always scheming, never satisfied, always wanting to let visions play out, no matter how twisted, no matter how…” Gylfoy sighed. “All for the thrill of a dream.”
“I gave up trying to find it during the day.” Revna scowled, but her thoughts flowed freely. “I thought it might be easier to see at night, well, feel really. I meditated for long periods, and the location seemed to return in a dream.”
“Dreams again. The downfall of the elves.”
Revna glared.
“Where’d you leave your horse? Did you leave it with someone?”
“No. My horse will wait for me.”
“Where are the rest of your things?” Gylfoy pointed to her dirty, mud-flecked clothes. “How long have you been out here?”
“In the area, a day or two,” Revna lied.
“And your mother? She was all alone for the feast?”
Revna’s eyes saddened. “I told her I would spend it with Rylar at Sevengate. That part of the country is still quiet, and he is truly alone. I can’t spend my entire life keeping her company. Everyone else is a soldier.” Her voice caught in her throat. “Now Vedulien is dead.”
“I’m sure your mother would have wanted you at home, rather than left with more emptiness,” remarked Gylfoy.
Revna took rapid steps towards him and raised her hands.
“I’m sorry,” Gylfoy said genuinely but yielded no ground. “Always wanting to fight? Let’s not go through this again. I haven’t had breakfast yet.”
Revna now retreated a step.
“Why did you attack me in the first place?” wondered Gylfoy. “Why not just keep sneaking around?”
“I thought you sensed my presence. You changed how you played the tune on your flute, stretching out the sounds. I decided to act first.”
Before Gylfoy could respond, a member of the Order rushed into the barn.
“Gylfoy!” the man shouted in panic.
“What is it?”
“You’d better come,” he pleaded.
“Stay here. On your honor as a noblewoman,” Gylfoy ordered before rushing out.
Revna briefly paced through the barn and settled atop a small pyramid of hay bales. She raised the shallow hood of her vest and rubbed her arms against the chill. Revna clenched her hands; contours of radiant flame briefly circled her fists.
Alone again, she considered if this was another test. Her eyelids felt heavy. She struggled to remember when last she slept.
Revna weighed whether she was truly a prisoner of this absurdity, or by her more or less following instructions, would she escape this predicament? “I’ll tell them I’ll forget it all. Surely the warding magic will erase the memory over time,” she said to herself with little comfort.
“Revna!” Gylfoy shouted from the doorway. “Get down here! We’re going to Ravalas.”
“What? I’m not—”
“The city is under attack. You’re coming with us now!”