Chapter 10 #2
How foolish did she think he was? History was, after all, written by the victors. Everyone knew that and expected such a shading of the truth. Though it was unclear if there were any victors after the destruction of Ailduin and Vex’s friendship.
“How about this,” she quickly broke in, “I’ll let you read this when I feel that you are sufficiently prepared for it?”
His cupid’s bow mouth tugged into a frown.
This book must contain many secrets, many truths, if she thought he needed such preparation to read it.
The purple and silver spine taunted him with its nearness.
Could he snatch it and run away? No, that would be disrespectful to the extreme to his mother.
And he loved her. So much. But he didn’t like her decision in this matter.
“When will that be?” he pouted. He wasn’t above pouting as it often got him concessions from her if he looked especially pitiful. Though he was careful not to use it overly much. But this was about Vex and Ailduin! It was worth the pursed lips and big eyes. “A very long time?”
“No, no, not a very long time.” She laughed and kissed his forehead. She smoothed a hand over his hair and studied him with a suddenly solemn expression. “Be diligent in your other studies, Aquilan, and I will let you read this book and many others on Vex and Ailduin. How about that?”
He nodded eagerly.
But that day had never come when she was alive.
And after her death when he had gone into her library to finally look at some of those books, the ones about Vex and Ailduin–the one with that purple and silver cover–were gone.
Like missing teeth in a too wide smile, every single book relating to either the Sun King or the Night King was not on the shelves. They’d clearly all been pulled out.
At first, he had assumed that Vesslan was behind the lost tomes.
He had envisioned his elder brother running in there and burning anything about the Night King in his fury at not being able to take action against Vex.
But why Ailduin also? Just because they had been friends?
Supposedly, Ailduin learned to rue the day he’d allowed Xelroth Vex a permanent place in his heart.
But later, after the initial press of anguish had left him, he’d realized that his brother would never bother with their mother’s library.
He’d never cared about it when she was alive and he certainly hadn’t when she’d died.
Books had never scared or inspired Vesslan. He didn’t actually read very much.
So Aquilan had come to the startling–and even more perplexing conclusion–that his mother had taken the books.
Maybe she had destroyed them, hid them somewhere or even taken them with her into the Under Dark.
He was never to know their fate or what they contained for not even the Glass Scholar could locate a copy of the silver and purple book he described.
The place where it had been was still empty on the bookshelf as if to remind him of its missing fate.
But these questions and reminisces–stirred by finally entering the Under Dark for the first time–were snuffed out.
Because the moment he stepped across the threshold of the rift, the world spun and his view of Declan blurred.
Only when he set foot on the ground in the Under Dark did the world settle again and he could see clearly once more.
Magic! Something interfered with the rift! But how? Who? Why?
Immediately, he looked for Declan but did not find him. The young man was nowhere near. He looked for the rift, but it, too, was gone. The magic had separated him not only from Declan, but from the others and a way back to Earth. All of his senses told him he was alone.
It could be that Declan’s use of magic this first–known–time to open a rift had been faulty and caused this issue. But he did not think so. No. Something else had interfered and thrust him from Declan and vice versa.
Someone did this. And the logical answer is Vex. But why?
There were a million answers to that of course.
If Declan was truly his child, maybe the great Night King wanted a private word with his son.
Or perhaps he thought that Aquilan’s hypocrisy wouldn’t hold and he would lash out at Declan.
Absurd in some ways to think that, but in others…
not so much. If he were an outsider looking in on his behavior towards the Night Elves, he wouldn’t trust himself either.
And then, of course, there was the possibility that Vex wanted him–the Sun King–alone to murder him like he had Aquilan’s parents.
Might have murdered them. I cannot allow my pain over their loss to cloud my vision again!
None of these answers was pleasant to consider except for the first where Vex wanted to speak to Declan alone, to help his son recover his memories and know his place as the Night Prince.
Aquilan swallowed. If Declan was the Night Prince then it was only logical that Vex had come to take him home.
He would not allow his son to remain a lowly citizen of the Aravae Empire.
Working in a bar? Living with humans? Carrying Aquilan’s books?
Absolutely not! The fact that these were things in Declan’s life at all probably were an affront.
His heart suddenly hurt terribly and he placed a fist against his chest to offset that ache. Just that afternoon, he had been planning–if not consciously–about things that he and Declan would do together in the upcoming days, weeks, months and maybe even years ahead.
He had imagined them going to every tea shop in Tyrael and talking together–just the two of them–over steaming cups of fragrant tea.
Or, perhaps more like him talking. Or, better yet, him reading aloud stories to Declan.
The young man was not a talker. Certainly not smalltalk.
He couldn’t imagine Declan uttering a word about the weather or how to harvest cabbages.
No, when Declan spoke it was to say things from his heart.
And those were few and far between like they should be.
Yet when he spoke them… oh, when he did…
But there would be no readings. There would be no tempting Declan with sweets. Or convincing him to go to the lake and bathe. Or sharing a bottle of wine under the stars while people sang.
No.
Declan would be gone. Declan would be here. Or rather, somewhere much deeper, in the Under Dark where Vex kept his newest capital city. Ruling beside his father. Learning the dark and dangerous ways of the Kindreth. Forgetting about the Sun and all the foolishness of carrying books for Aquilan.
Foolish to want! And selfish of me!
He shook himself. If Declan was the Night Prince then he had duties to the Kindreth and his father.
The rest of his family too. For some reason, he thought of Rhalyf then.
How miserable his best friend had appeared as if he were dragging an anchor and chains as he moved in the Pedway.
He’d always suspected that his best friend had left his family for reasons that those in court would be too interested in smearing him with.
They whisper he has Kindreth blood because he is too powerful.
I even considered this fact to be possibly true, Aquilan thought.
No, I must be completely honest here. No more hypocrisy from me!
I believed them to be true. He nodded. That is why I ask him about Kindreth society.
Questions that no Sun Elf from ‘polite society’ would ever know the answers to.
But someone like Rhalyf who is smart and doesn’t just let the surface tales stand would.
Yet also because they might be part of his family history.
Things that were imparted to him as more than lore, but knowledge.
Is that what troubles him? Or has he realized that if Declan is the Night Prince, he will be taken from me?
There was more there, he was sure. He would get to the bottom of it when he was with Rhalyf again and they were back in Tyrael. He would soothe whatever fears Rhalyf had and his best friend would laugh that he had been worried in the least bit.
But I must find him again. Him, Declan and all the rest of them and then we must get back into the light.
He took stock of where he was even as his heart hammered in his chest. Though an incredibly powerful Mage, his ultimate power came from the Sun. The Under Dark was the one true place where he was cut off from it and he felt exposed.
And it was dark where he was. Very dark.
He was standing on the tip of a rocky peninsula that thrust out into a midnight black lake. Across that lake was a glowing jewel. A city. It caused Aquilan’s mouth to drop open with wonder.
Illithor…
Those early years which he had spent reading of Vex had, of course, contained many descriptions of the Kindreth capital city.
One of the greatest wonders of the universe.
And there it was with its soaring purple towers, its golden domes that rose like floating balloons, and the pyramids that both sprawled and thrust towards the heavens.
Except they weren’t heavens though they appeared awfully far up and lights twinkled up there like stars.
A massive cavern housed Illithor and what glowed above was likely lichen or some other luminescent plant.
Gods, if Darcassan sees this, he will want to plunder it. I hope Elasha is with him or, better yet, Rhalyf. Though he was too rough with my nephew, he will stop him from making a terrible mistake.
Aquilan took a half step towards the lake as if he might simply jump over the half a mile of water to the opposite shore and wander amongst Illithor’s splendors.
And part of him considered doing this. Why stay on this dark, jutting rock and not go to where everything was bright?
The light called to him. And wouldn’t the others make their way to the city?
Yes, it was the shining beacon in the dark. He just had to make it over there.
But there was a sound.
A soft, slithery sound.
From behind him.
Aquilan spun around. His heart in his throat.
His hands were limned with gold. But there was no Leviathan there.
Not creeping up on him. No coils at his feet.
But he saw something that reflected the light of his magic.
A thin, silvery gray thread. Like a strand of spider silk except it was too thick to come from any normal-sized spider.
He formed a light wisp and let it drift towards the thread.
More threads appeared, all criss-crossing one another.
As the wisp drifted forwards and upwards, the threads grew so thick as to form solid walls that kept going and going and going…
It was then that he knew what he was seeing even though he’d never encountered one so big before. Never thought that they could get this big. A chill spiraled through him as the wisp continued to drift in the currents of the cavern, showing more and more and more threads.
A Leviathan nest.