The color of Divinity II - The truth of Legends

The color of Divinity
By Ellnyon

Notes: And chapter 2 is here. Just two things. First, I’m so, so sorry (yet again T_T). Second, Marin Liliz advised me to do a guidebook about TCD. I was already thinking about it for sometime, too, so I decided to stop being so lazy and start working on an archive where you can get info on the characters, races, some curiosities, a regular journal (I hope), etc. It’s very, very, very, very, very far from finished but just in case you’d like to visit it, the address is www.edyane.webs.com. I sincerely hope you enjoy it. As always, I thank everyone following this story, especially those who rate and review. It’s your encouragement that keeps me going!


Part II
Chapter 2


When Iararin’ne entered Midaen’niel’s room, he found the blond Ethen with his back turned to him while sitting on a chair facing the full-bloomed garden just outside the closed glass doors. The butler announced the silver-haired Ethen and placed the light chest on the floor near the door. Then he rose, waiting for further orders. He didn’t have to wait long.

“You can leave now, Mister Caran’nir. Thank you.” Midaen’niel said in a barely audible voice. Silently, the butler bowed and headed to the door. There, he paused and glanced at the sitting Ethen with a sad expression. Sighing, he turned to Iararin’ne and bowed again. He then left the room, closing the heavy wooden doors behind him.

As soon as the sound of footsteps outside the room faded away, Midaen’niel rose from the chair with vigor and absolutely no signs of illness anywhere on his body or tears in his eyes.

“What took you so long? Are you alone?” he asked at the same time he hugged the other Ethen. Somewhat surprised, Iararin’ne hugged back.

“Yes.” He answered, recovering quickly. “I managed to leave the palace unseen by Nlie’sieri’s spies or my brother, but guess who I found downstairs? Nlie’sieri himself.” The Benur’el Lessin explained with an exasperated look.

“I know.” Midaen’niel affirmed, bitter. Iararin’ne placed his right hand on his own chest in a dramatic gesture.

“I almost died of fright when he appeared in front of me…” The blond regarded briefly his friend’s wide eyed look with pity, before he replied.

“He brought me flowers and a jewel.” Iararin’ne turned to the blond with a cautious expression.

“Are you sure they’re not magically altered?” He asked. The Siekih Lessin nodded.

“I thought of that, too. I guarded them in my brother’s quarters, just in case Father wants to see them later. No one goes there. Did you bring what I asked you to?” The silver-haired Ethen huffed but nodded.

“It wasn’t easy.” He explained. “I had to trick Brother, Nlie’sieri’s spies and the palace’s Treasury guards all at the same time. You’re just lucky I’m beyond suspicion.” The blond Ethen smiled sadly.

“No one ever suspects a noble Ethen. We’re merely decorative plants, most of the time.” He affirmed while his eyes caught the sight of the new small chest lying innocently on the floor. Iararin’ne nodded when Midaen’niel turned to him with the silent question, but his voice was cautious and frightened when he spoke.

“That’s because we have much to lose…including our heads. This is a legendary Treasure, Midaen’niel. We can hang for this…” The blond Ethen had kneeled next to the chest and was opening it.

“Not quite. You’re the one who stole it, Iararin’ne. You’re the one who can hang for it.” He teased while removing several expensive cloths from the small trunk. The young Benur’el Lessin glared at the golden-haired boy.

Dismissing his friend’s annoyed look, Midaen’niel kept rummaging. Suddenly, he stopped, his eyes shining with mysticism, and he rose to his feet carrying a very famous bow in his hands. In the presence of the sacred object, Iararin’ne forgot even their earlier conversation. A new question appeared in his mind, instead.

“Why do you need it?” He asked softly with some kind of reverence. Midaen’niel took his time analysing the bow. He passed his hands across his simple recurve design and strange light runes appeared on the cherry wood. Iararin’ne had lost count on how many Eths he had seen trying the famous bow and not even one, for as strong or powerful as he looked (and most certainly was), had managed to pull that drawstring. The bow would not bend, not even budge. So he was always a little amazed every time Midaen’niel readied to shoot, pulling the string with ease, and a light arrow magically formed out of thin air. If he did not know better, the silver haired Ethen would not believe that Maguenta had chosen an Ethen to be the Dreamseer. But the evidence was irrefutable. Not only did Midaen’niel apparently have the dreams, he could also bend the legendary bow of Lvek’kia: Midaen’niel was one of the two guardians destined to protect and aid the dark-haired Ethen in his mission on the mortal world.

“We have stood still for far too long. If we don’t act quickly, all will be lost. I just hope it’s not too late, already.” The blond answered his entranced friend with an urgent tone, while returning the bow to his inactive state. Iararin’ne frowned at that.

“What do you mean?” he inquired. Midaen’niel turned to the other Ethen with a worried expression.

“I have seen the consequences of Nlie’sieri’s plans.” He replied in an alert tone, with the certainty coming from years of dealing with his own powers.

“Consequences?” Iararin’ne asked, with a small frown. “Is this still about the war?” Midaen’niel nodded with a swift move.

“We have no time to waste.” He said quickly, striding to his bed, kneeling and retrieving a small inconspicuous linen bag from under it. Iararin’ne remained rooted in place, half-shocked. His voice was soft and small when he whispered.

“You mean the war is not over?” Midaen’niel turned sharply and scowled at him from his place on the floor.

“Don’t tell me you actually believed that.” He scolded, almost angry. Iararin’ne lowered his eyes, sad and somewhat embarrassed. The silver-haired Ethen didn’t have the blonde’s powers and he wasn’t as insightful or as clever as the Siekih Lessin. But he knew he should always mistrust the second prince. He was aware of what the redhead man was capable of, too. He just didn’t think Nlie’sieri would go so far as to lie about that utterly important matter to the whole Council and country. Iararin’ne wasn’t able to comprehend the advantage such a lie could bring the second prince of Meya. And, deep down, he had hoped that at least, that part of his eloquent speech had been true.

“I don’t understand. Why would he…?!” Before he noticed, the brown-eyed Ethen had voiced some of his thoughts. Midaen’niel sighed, getting up and carefully placing the bow inside the bag he held in his hands.

“It’s a trap.” He said, sadly. At his words, Iararin’ne looked up.

“Delaen’niel?” He inquired, agitated and worried. The blond shook his head and placed the linen bag on top of his bed.

“No, not him. Not this time.” Iararin’ne arched his eyebrows, surprised.

“Then who?” He asked the blond who had disappeared into the adjacent dressing room.

“N’Alaera.” Midaen’niel responded, returning to the main bedroom with a dark, hooded cape, which he placed next to the linen bag.

“N’Alaera?!” The brown-eyed Ethen asked, disbelievingly. Midaen’niel nodded, fetching other objects from all over his room and placing them of top of the dark garment.

“Yes. I need you to contact Iadden. I don’t have the time.” Was all the absentminded answer Iararin’ne got.

“How? Why? What would Nlie’sieri gain from going against N’Alaera?” The blond went back inside the dressing room and Iararin’ne didn’t comprehend his muffled reply. The Benur’el Lessin eyed the small door with a half-annoyed, half-clueless expression. He hated when Midaen’niel didn’t elaborate on his visions and he hated not understanding essential subjects.

When the blond came back to the main room with a lain coat, he found Iararin’ne obstructing his path, with his hands on his hips and an unfriendly expression.

“Explain yourself, Midaen’niel.” Meya’s theoretical next vice-king demanded. The blond sighed, pulled a nearby velvet chair and sat down (with the coat on his lap). Iararin’ne helped himself and did the same.

“Iararin’ne, this peace treaty is a trap.” The blue-eyed man began to explain, slowly. “The enemy armies have not disbanded. They are quickly and surreptitiously marching in groups towards N’Alaera’s Capitol city as we speak.” Iararin’ne gasped, wide eyed. The Death Whisperers were in the neighbouring country?! Wouldn’t Meya’s armies notice such a move? He spoke out loud.

“But certainly our armies have realized…” Midaen’niel nodded.

“They would, if the Death Whisperers had invaded without help. As it is, Nlie’sieri’s guards let them pass Meya’s borders secretly a long time ago. Weeks before he announced the end of the war.” The silver-haired Ethen placed his hand above his heart and opened his mouth in shock, but didn’t speak so Midaen’niel continued in a resigned tone.

“The armies don’t have a clue. And Nlie’sieri sent word in the King’s name that we are at peace. Our armies have disbanded already, each small fraction moving at a slow pace towards their homelands. They are tired and they won’t be expecting enemies so far north so they won’t be alert. The bigger part of N’Alaera’s army who moves faster will be killed along the way. And the only ones who will reach N’Alaera’s Capitol are Prince Edyane and a few soldiers who live there. They won’t be able to launch the alert, though, for by the time they get there, it will be too late. Prince Edyane will not only encounter his home completely destroyed but also the magnanimous Whisperer’s army they spent ten years fighting back and that they thought they had left behind, strengthened by victory and ready to crush them down. Without Meya and all the other countries’ aid, they’ll be all killed.

You certainly realize that with the destruction of N’Alaera and the Maguenta’s High temple, the Alliance won’t last and then the war will really be over, for Meya won’t stand much longer either.” Midaen’niel finished with a deep sigh. Iararin’ne took a deep breath as well, but when he spoke his tone was quiet and haunted.

“You dreamt that…?” Midaen’niel nodded.

“Yes.” He affirmed simply.

“We are doomed.” Iararin’ne uttered, with his brown eyes absently regarding his folded hands on his lap. Midaen’niel sighed and was about to speak when Iararin’ne’s eyes flashed and he rose his head and his voice.

“What is Nlie’sieri thinking?!” He stated, indignantly. “He has to be smarter than this…” The blond Ethen coughed in shock.

“You’re putting your faith on him?!” Iararin’ne looked at Midaen’niel with an anxious expression.

“This will destroy us all! He has to be aware of the…” He started, but the Siekih Lessin interrupted him softly and stated in a calm manner.

“He isn’t. Ambition has clouded his brain, blinded his sight.” Still, Iararin’ne would not be convinced so easily. It was too much of a treachery. And if Nlie’sieri really was involved, there was a high possibility that his main supporters were too. And among them was someone far too dear to the brown-eyed Ethen, someone Iararin’ne would never believe could betray his nation in such a way.

“Don’t get me wrong, Midaen’niel, I honestly believe your predictions, but are you sure they are Nlie’sieri’s doing? I can’t accept, can’t understand Eths would let something like this happen and much less create the opportunity for it to occur. And Nlie’sieri wants to be a king. How can he be king if he doesn’t worry about his people, if he doesn’t have a kingdom to rule? It’s too much, even for him. He has people who trust him after all. Trying to usurp the throne in the absence of his brother is one thing but to gamble the fate of his own country like this...” Midaen’niel frowned, not comprehending why Iararin’ne was so forcefully trying to refute the obvious.

“Are you listening to yourself?” He asked calmly. “You are, better than anyone else, aware of the terrible things Nlie’sieri has done to ensure Prince Delaen’niel does not come back alive from the war…and Maguenta knows how many more plots of his we are still oblivious to. Iararin, you know who we are dealing with...” Iararin’ne nodded, but when he raised his face, Midaen’niel clearly saw the tears trapped in his brown eyes. And he finally understood the silver-haired Ethen’s distress. With almost as much anguish as his friend, Midaen’niel extended his arm and reached for Iararin’ne’s hand. The Ethen returned his pained look.

“My brother is with him…has always been with him… since the beginning. Does that mean Lian’niel is a high traitor as well? Did you see that, too?” He whispered. Midaen’niel focused his eyes downwards. He cared too much about Iararin’ne to tell him anything else but the truth.

“I don’t know…he did not appear in my visions…” He affirmed. Iararin’ne stared at the blond intently for a moment and then nodded. His voice was steady and his eyes were bright with resolution when he spoke.

“If you are not sure yet, please give him the benefit of the doubt.” The silver-haired man pleaded. “I know Lian’niel is one of Nlie’sieri’s main supporters, but perhaps he doesn’t know what the prince is really up to. Certainly, my brother was always against this war and Maguenta knows that, for some reason he has yet to reveal, he absolutely hates Prince Delaen’niel, but he’s a good man. He may be stubborn and some of his actions may appear suspicious to us, but he loves his country and he believes in the strength of the North Alliance and in Maguenta’s guidance. He would faster kill Nlie’sieri with his own bare hands than let the Death Whisperers win…” The blond Ethen sighed and looked up at his friend.

“I want to trust your brother, too, but until we are sure, let us be cautious.” Iararin’ne nodded.

“Fair enough. So what are we going to do to prevent this tragedy?” Midaen’niel couldn’t help but grimace at the other Ethen’s honest desire to aid. If he possessed the means, he would do everything on his own, but as it was, he could not be in two places at the same time.

What he was about to ask of his friend again and mainly what he was preparing himself to do, could (and most probably would) ruin their future and dishonor their families for generations.

Nevertheless, there was too much at stake, this time. They could not sit still any longer. They had to do something, even if, for that, they had to risk their honor and their lives (what was a very likely possibility in case things went very wrong). He would try to imply Iararin’ne the less he could, but he had to entrust him with, at least, this one important mission. At this stage, he trusted no one else to accomplish it. It didn’t make it any easier to expose his plans to Iararin’ne, though. He knew the other Ethen would not like them, especially Midaen’niel’s part in the scheme. Somehow it had been easier to speak when he had kept himself busy earlier and didn’t have to face Iararin’ne’s questions while effectively looking at him.

“Well, we have to warn them…” He started. The silver-haired man, frowned, confused.

“Warn N’Alaera?” He asked. The blond shrugged.

“I was thinking about warning both Iadden and our armies that are coming from the front.” Iararin’ne arched his eyebrows.

“How do you intend to do that? We cannot send anyone. Nlie’sieri is watching our every move. He will have them killed as soon as they leave our doorsteps.” Midaen’niel nodded. He knew that very well, and that was why this was so difficult, but his decision had been made since he had that catastrophic dream.

“We won’t send anyone, Iararin’ne.” He said. ”This is too big. It’s time we take matters into our own hands. WE will go!” For a few moments, the brown-eyed man looked at Midaen’niel with a blank expression, but then he eventually realized the blond was serious. And gasped.

“We?! We are Ethen! Nlie’sieri has much against us already. This will be the last drop.” He complained. The blond agreed.

“And that is why we cannot fail.” He replied, convicted. Noticing the stony resolution in Midaen’niel’s sapphire blue eyes, Iararin’ne just knew that he could not make the blond give up his plans. And Iararin’ne also knew that was probably their only chance of being successful.

“Nlie’sieri is going to have our heads on a silver platter. We’ll be disgraced! We’ll be stripped in the Grand Square in front of everyone and then stoned, severely whipped and finally hung until we die.” He complained again, but then smiled beautifully. “But who cares? I’m not going to let them win! What do you need me to do?” Midaen’niel smiled as well and thanked Maguenta for selfless people like Iararin’ne.

“I need you to travel to N’Alaera. I need you to warn my cousin Iadden in person. Even if I manage to alert the armies, we will never reach them in time to prevent the attack. He needs to set up some sort of defense.” Iararin’ne nodded, an idea coming to his head.

“I’ll do it. The fastest way to N’Alaera is through the Maguerer. My family has lands near its waters. I can say I’m going to visit my relatives for a few days. It will fool Nlie’sieri perfectly. Then I’ll take one of my family’s ships and travel to N’Alaera’s capitol, safely.” Midaen’niel frowned.

“How about your brother? He may want to accompany you…and you have no arguments to visit N’Alaera in this time of year…” The silver-haired Ethen shook his head.

“No worries. My brother is not in the capitol. He left today in business. He won’t be coming back home for weeks. The problem is your cousin Iadden, will he believe me? I’m an Ethen, after all.” Midaen’niel smiled sheepishly. Iararin’ne didn’t know of Iadden’s true identity yet. But that was a secret that only Iadden had the right to reveal.

“He will, don’t worry about that.” He tranquilized his friend, who nodded and inquired for the rest of the plan.

“That’s good. What about you? How are you going to warn the armies?” Midaen’niel shrugged, casual, trying not to make a big deal out of it, so as not to worry or shock Iararin’ne even more than he knew he would be.

“I told you, I’m going myself, alone.” But the silver-haired didn’t fall for it.

“Alone?” He said, almost squealing. “Did you hit your head? You’re a royal prince and an Ethen. Are you aware of the dangers you’ll face?” He spoke seriously, trying to put some sense into Midaen’niel’s head. The latter merely shrugged again. He knew Iararin’ne wouldn’t approve of this part of the plan. And, yes, he was very aware of the perils of his journey. Still, there was no other way…

“I can defend myself.” He answered honestly. Iararin’ne sighed.

“I don’t doubt it, but still… Besides, how are you going to pass through Nlie’sieri’s spies? And even if you manage to leave the capitol unnoticed, how are you going to travel south, though land, beyond Meya’s borders, at full speed, chancing encounters with bandits, Nlie’sieri’s men, even Death Whisperers to get to our armies in time? You have no one on your side out there!”

“I’ve already arranged my escape from the capitol. I’ll leave tonight, through the east passage. It’s the new moon: the dark will be my ally. And also, today’s market day. Tonight, the streets will be filled with people trying to leave the city to the country. I’ll just be another commoner trying to go back home. Nlie’sieri might be cunning but not even he is expecting a royal Ethen to disguise himself as a poor and travel without an escort. Even if his spies spot me in the streets, they won’t realize it is me.” The silver-haired Ethen listened carefully and in the end shook his head.

“Midaen’niel, you will never pass for a peasant. You are too distinguished.” He warned. The blue-eyed man frowned.

“Under these wealthy clothes, I’m just a regular Ethen, Iararin’ne.” He said certain. Upon his friend’s skeptical look, he decided upon another approach. “Anyways, the nights have been cold. I’ll have a hood and a cape so that won’t be a problem.”

“I’m not convinced,” Iararin’ne said. “But I know how stubborn you are, so I’m not even going to try and argue. How about your father? He’ll realize you’re not home. He’ll be mad… and worried…” The blond nodded. He had thought about that as well, but really there was not much he could do. His father would have to accept him as he was. He was tired of being the perfect Ethen. It wasn’t like his betrothed visited or loved him more because of it. (He never visited him, actually. Not since he was three years old. Midaen’niel didn’t even remember the man’s face.)”

“My personal servant will cover up for me for as long as he can. Then, I’m putting my fate into Maguenta’s hands.” He answered.

“What about after you leave the capitol? Do you know where our armies are coming from? The paths they have taken?” Iararin’ne questioned next. Midaen’niel shook his head.

“No. I only know those of the Death Whisperers. But that should get me out of major trouble.” The brown-eyed Ethen huffed.

“Still, there are hundreds of trails our armies could have taken to return. How are you going to find them?” Midaen’niel shrugged.

“Maguenta will lead me, I’m sure.” He spoke confidently. Iararin’ne sighed.

“Your faith amazes me.” He declared, not without a subtle hint of sarcasm. He honestly thought Midaen’niel would die out there or worse, enslaved, tortured, abused, there were so many possibilities, so many dangers, so many uncertainties... It would definitely take a miracle to get his friend safe and sound to their allies (if they could refer to their armies as their allies, they didn’t know that yet).

“It’s not just faith. Maguenta owes me.” Midaen’niel affirmed softly. His comment surprised Iararin’ne, but the silver-haired Ethen knew better than to ask. He decided to be practical instead and help with what he could remember.

“You still need a decent horse to cover that much distance. The leisure horses we have in the city won’t do. You need something stronger and faster.” Surprisingly, Midaen’niel smirked a little at that. An expression that made him look younger...

“How about a purebred battle stallion?” He said. His brown-eyed friend arched his eyebrows, detecting an emotion on the blonde’s voice he couldn’t quite define. It was like the blue-eyed Ethen was hopeful, but at the same time not wanting or afraid to feel that way.

“That would be excellent.” He commented nonetheless. “Where’re you going to find such a horse here in the city without raising suspicion?” Midaen’niel smirked again.

“In my stables.” At that answer, Iararin’ne frowned. The Siekih old Lord, Midaen’niel’s father, had sold all his battle horses after Ryaen’ne’s funeral.

“Since when do you have such a horse here? And why?” Midaen’niel shrugged nonchalantly, but Iararin’ne could tell he was a little happy.

“Since yesterday evening. It was a gift from my betrothed to celebrate the day we sealed our commitment, nineteen years ago.” Iararin’ne gasped in surprise.

“Lord Erephine gifted you a battle horse?!…” He asked, still somewhat incredulous. What kind of fiancé offered a horse to renew a marriage commitment?! Lord Erephine was definitely a very strange Eth. If Iararin’ne didn’t know that Midaen’niel was a very uncommon Ethen as well, he would pity the latter. As it was, he was waiting to see if he should pity both of them or if they were in fact a match made by Gods. By the way Midaen’niel’s voice almost sang when he spoke, Iararin’ne could tell the gift had pleased him more than any other would.

“According to the Sir who brought him, red Gya’ana horses are very rare and are rumored to bring good luck. It seems that this is the first to be born on the Erephine stables in fifty years. He also said that as soon as Lord Lnorien Erephine knew of its existence, he gave orders that he was to be gifted to me on that day. The horse is lovely. Absolutely stunning.” Iararin’ne smiled, genuinely happy for his friend.

“That was very thoughtful of him… and it suits you better than any jewel…” Midaen’niel huffed.

“Perhaps. If he was the one to think of it…It could be his Father, after hearing the rumors…”

“You have no proof. They are just rumors, Midaen’niel…” The blond shrugged.

“Anyways, the horse comes at just the right time. It’s like a sign.” Iararin’ne pouted.

“So, you are going, despite all odds?” Midaen’niel simply nodded.

“I am going. I have no other choice.” Recognizing his defeat, the silver-haired Ethen sighed. He could not stop Midaen’niel when he put something in his head, could he?

“I would like to see you again, so please, please be careful.” He said. Midaen’niel smiled.

“I will. You too, okay?” Iararin’ne nodded.

“Just one more thing. Even if you find the armies. They’re a gathering of very powerful Eths. How will you make them listen to you?”

“I’m a royal prince, the first prince’s cousin and betrothed to the Erephine general. Besides, I’m the Dreamseer. I will make them listen to me…”

TBC…


Ending notes: This was a very difficult chapter. I wrote several versions of it but no one seemed quite right. The first paragraphs were already planned and were easy; however the others ended rather farfetched... I don’t like it, but it’s been far too long so I’m just going to post it as it is…