Destiny Whispers P3

Even as Edith climbed down from the walls around Avonar, she was still plagued by the thoughts that swirled within her mind. They dominated her every sense and the sights, sounds and even smells from the various vendors of meats and spices that normally overwhelmed customers now, for her, faded into the furthest recesses of her mind.

She was to become the queen of a defeated people, but what did that mean? Was she supposed to ease them into their new lives under the Koraki? Or was she supposed to lead them towards freedom again? When? How? With whom?

From Aldred she had the impression that there was heart left for resistance, but then others such as Harold, they were ready for this to end. She had hoped that her venture into the city would provide some clarity as to her coming destiny. But it had not. It had merely put faces to the twin calls for resistance and surrender. Her father clearly thought that surrender was the only viable option, so perhaps he was right? He had been here, he had everything to lose for believing it, yet he did so. She knew he would not think this way had he seen any other way he would have already attempted it. Or had he? He was making her queen of this city, albeit tide to one of the Koraki brothers after all. Was he in fact securing her to continue the fight?

The uncertainty burned in her mind like a fever. She couldn't stop the swirling thoughts and doubts in her head long enought to settle them. Finally, Edith stopped where she was. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was a technique they had showed her to calm her thoughts while among the Offeiriaid. Inhaling, she gathered all her thoughts distractions and worries into herself. Then she exhaled, letting them all evaporate in the air before her. She allowed the feeling of the sun to warm her in its soft glow and let the now more distant sounds of the market place wash over faintly. She was focused. Grounded in the present. Opening her eyes again, her mind now calm, she took in her surroundings.

Whether it was some subconscious urge, or if it was pure coincidence Edith found herself before the Hall of Kings. It was a grand, if somber structure. A tomb. Grey stone walls, unusual for Iseldir who preferred to use more timber, with beasts of the wild animals, warriors, and mythical creatures carved into the surface. The place was an acknowledgement of her family's place in this city and kingdom. A testament to the legacy of her ancestors. But also, a reminder.

Before the gates of the Hall, a tall man in black heavy armour and full-face visor stood guard. His visor only revealing only his piercing grey eyes to announce the man inside, and he grasped a sword, the blade of which reached from her toes to chest.

The tall guardian said nothing as she passed but stared on without flinching or throwing her a glance. Either he knew who she was or didn't believe her to be the sort to cause trouble. Either way, he continued to stand there, as still and rigid as the statues that ringed the wall around the hall. Edith felt relief at avoiding a confrontation with the imposing man. She was not sure what she would have done had he stopped her.

Edith approached the tall and heavy oaken doors that barred the entrance and unlatched them, entering the hall. A rush of cool air exited the Hall as she passed opened the doors and entered. The air inside was cool and still, the only sound the faint echo of her footsteps on the stone floor. The walls rose high with the only light coming from small narrow windows near the top making it difficult to see in the dim light, though not so dim as to be difficult to pass through. The hall was long and tall, as was common for stone structures of the Iseldir. On either side Heavy oaken doors marked the Entrances to the tombs of specific ancestors, the names of the occupants carved into the stone above the door, and around the door carvings of their most notable deeds. Passing each door her mind flashed back to lessons learned at the feet of her mother before she had died, learning of her heritage.

Here was Bran, the first man to lead humans to this island. Carvings inscribed on the walls showed his first encounter with the mythical creatures they had found here, half-men half beast with the tops of men and the bottom half of horses, goats legs and even serpents. Tree-like creatures and beautiful spirits of the woods and waters in the shapes of men and women.

Next came his sons Gedric and Cenwulf who had built the foundations of what would one day be Avonar and his grandson Eadric who warred with the mythical beasts for control of the island. At this point the tomb ended in three doors. King Eadric had been a great king but not a great father, and at his death his three sons and daughter warred with each other, splitting the kingdom between Avonar, Tirstaldt and Gaerwen, as well as resulting in the rise of the barbaric Guilltion tribes to the North. Those who would forever harry their Southern neighbours, even to the present day.

Edith took the Central door, that belonged to the kings of Avonar from this point forward. The heavy door was stiff, for her, but with a puff and a heave she hauled it open to reveal the inside. She stopped at the door when she looked inside. Unlike the front hall this tomb was more like a square courtyard with the door leading to the tombs of various kings of the city around the perimeter. These marked the burial places of many kings. Great warriors, builders, scholars and merchants that had led her people to prosperity. But in the centre, the pride of place, stood a mighty statue out in the open the base of which read the inscription Cenric Ironhand. King Cenric Ironhand. He who had been king of this land during the initial invasion of the Dryads. The shameful submission of the Southern kings had placed Cenric in a difficult position, allowing the invaders to gain a foothold on Corvinia. However, undaunted he had rallied the people of the Middle Lands and held the invaders in place, even gaining the admiration of the savage Guilltion tribes in the North. He had forged the kingdom she was about to inherit, its laws, its lands, its culture, preserving much in the face of heavy opposition.

However, it had not been the site of this mighty ancestor that had caused Edith to halt at the entrance. In the centre of the courtyard, staring up at the statue of Cenric, stood the figure of her father, Leofric. He had not seemed to have noticed her entering, and she was not sure if she should proceed or leave her father in peace. She had no doubt he was going through a lot at the moment and he had probably come here to seek solace amongst his forebears. Perhaps she should come back later? She struggled with the thought for a moment more before deciding that this was also why she had come. Besides, they needed to talk. She, with some effort, closed the door behind her and made her way over to her father’s side.

Before she got there, he spoke, she clearly had not been as quiet as she had thought. “I thought that you would eventually find yourself here daughter. It is natural in the face of such a momentous occasion for our people to reflect on how they might have acted in our stead, and how we might be remembered.”

She reached his side, and he turned his head to face her. He smiled “Do you remember who this is? It was the one time I took over from your mother to teach lessons.”

Edith nodded, “I remember.” She smiled as the thought blossomed in her mind, “You told it very differently from how mother used to. You told it like a story rather than a lesson. I don’t think I’d ever seen you that passionate about our schooling save for that moment. Although,” Edith said with a laugh, “mother had to give us a private lesson on it again because she said you focused too much on the battles.”

Leofric laughed as well, “Perhaps I did, though no doubt Tegid at least was grateful for that.”

“I think so.” Edith said grinning.

Leofric’s eyes saddened, and his glance fell to the floor. “Much might have been different now had your mother lived.”

Edith took his hand in hers, “Maybe so. But she was always one for living for the present and future. She would not wish us to be saddened by the past unless it helps us deal with the present.”

“You are right of course Edith.” He said putting his other hand on hers. “And how are you dealing with the present.” As he said this, she saw the pain of guilt re-enter his eyes, but they needed to talk about it.

“I…” She hesitated, unsure of how to say what she had been thinking. “I guess… I am uncertain.”

Leorfic turned to fully face her, “Uncertain of what Edith?”

“My duty. How am I supposed to act as queen?”

Leofric, looked weary and sorrowful, “Sadly I do not think you will be queen, for that title is taken by the Queen of the Koraki now.”

Edith frowned, “Then who shall I be?”

“I believe under Koraki tradition you would become Duchess of Avonar alongside the newly made Duke Rickard.”

Edith was silent at this. Had her father’s enemies not taken enough from her people that they now had to take their dignity? And why? For the pride of a pagan queen descendent of distant dryad lords? The thought pained her deeply.

“As for your duty.” Her father continued, “I cannot say what your actions should be, they will depend on what challenges lay before you, but if you are asking what it is I want from this treaty, from you, then it is merely this. Put the people of this city, this kingdom first. Before yourself, before your husband, before anything. Make this the focus of your actions and you will do all that I can hope from you.”

Leofric turned back to the statue, and Edith was unsure if he was now talking to her or to Cenric. “I am sorry it has come to this. Perhaps had I been more like my forbears then such decisions and questions would not have arisen. But fate, and my failure, have determined it so. I am sorry.”

Edith looked closely into the chiselled features of the statue, full of pride and determination. She thought she could detect hints of her own father in his face if she really focused. Seeing her ancestors, cloaked in the glory of their deeds, and her father, broken and sorrowful besides her, Edith felt a surge of emotion. A mixture of pride, sorrow, and resolve.

“Your legacy will not end with me,” she thought to herself. Her resolve stiffened and she felt herself stand taller. The statue continued to stare implacably. “I will not let our name be forgotten. I will fight, in whatever way I can, to preserve our home and our people. As you did. For the people, my father, and myself, this Kingdom has not seen its end.”

With a renewed sense of purpose, Edith turned to her father, “Come father, we need to return.” He nodded and with her father in tow, she left the hall and made her way back to the manor. She knew her path would not be easy, but as she looked upon the city of Harold, she felt a flicker of hope. The legacy of her ancestors would endure, and she would ensure it with every breath she took.