Chapter 16 Svenn #2
Rhianelle shifts beside me. Her hand finds mine again.
“I was just a child when Casimir the Brave arrived on Kashran’s shores with his warships.
” Rhydan’s eyes grow distant, seeing something none of us can.
“I remember standing on these very cliffs, watching hundreds of ships move into harbor. They were damaged. Sails torn, hulls patched with whatever wood they could scavenge. His people looked haunted as if they’d seen the world end and barely escaped with their lives. ”
Rhydan’s massive hand gestures slowly. “Casimir came to speak with Wiolant and the Kashran king. My great-great-grandfather ruled then.”
I watch the ancient elf’s face. He’s reliving it as he speaks.
“Casimir stated his desire to settle the deeper land. The elven kingdoms beyond the shores were in constant conflict, he said. He wanted to protect his people and give them a home where they could rebuild.”
“And the Kashran king warned him of the dangers?” Rainer asks.
“We all did,” Rhydan replies, voice darkening. “My great-great-grandfather. Wiolant. Every elder who still remembered the old stories.”
He looks at Rhianelle.
“We told Casimir of what lay beyond the forests and rivers. Of gods and monsters that predated borders and banners. The beings you now call the Ancient Fae.”
Blaire leans forward. Her composure cracks slightly.
“They existed before kingdoms and borders. Before gods needed names or worship. They were pieces of the world given consciousness and will.”
The chamber trembles as he shifts.
“But Casimir needed to save his people. His ships were falling apart. Disease was spreading. So the Inquisition began. War erupted between the elves and gods and monsters.”
Rhydan pauses, his eyes staying distant. Something moves through his ancient face.
“The Ancient Fae were strong and unbeatable. I watched the funeral pyres from these cliffs. Thousands upon thousands dead in the first year alone. The smoke blotted out the sun for weeks.”
Tallulla makes a small sound of distress.
“And yet… Casimir’s people did not surrender to despair.” Rhydan closes his eyes briefly. “They changed. They began to kneel. Altars rose in the forests. Offerings were left at ancient stones. Prayers whispered into roots and rivers.”
Silence falls over the chamber.
“And some of the Ancient Fae listened.”
He opens his eyes and looks directly at Rhianelle.
“Some accepted the worship. They were curious and flattered. They permitted Casimir’s people to settle within their domains. Some even shielded them from those who refused appeasement.”
Rhydan’s ocean-blue gaze does not leave her.
“This is how your seventy-seven gods were born. Not gods at all. But Ancient Fae, the Firstborns who agreed to be worshipped in exchange for land and peace.”
I hear Eyepatch’s sharp intake of breath. The knight’s hand goes to his throat where religious symbols of Tavarra the Traveller hang beneath his armor.
“Casimir divided the land into thirty-two regions. He invited Volundr and Kashran to join this new kingdom.”
Rhydan’s voice lowers.
“Only Volundr accepted. Wiolant saw the advantage. Casimir’s influence brought stability, especially in controlling the sea dragons. So Volundr bent the knee. That was the first time the antler crown bowed to another.”
Rainer’s jaw tightens but he says nothing.
“The Firstborn Fae who proved benevolent received temples and devotion. Shrines rose in their honor. Priesthoods formed and rituals took root. Faith was shaped from necessity.” Rhydan’s expression darkens.
“But not all would bargain. Some refused worship and restraint. They saw mortals not as followers — but as prey.”
The room tightens around the word.
“We called them the Un.”
“The Untamed Ones,” Kahedin murmurs from the shadows.
“Yes. The Unbroken. The Unyielding. Forces too violent to appease, too ancient to reason with. Their only desire was ruin — returning the world to primal chaos.”
Rhydan’s massive hand curls against the arm of his throne. “Casimir made a choice. A terrible one. Perhaps the only one left to him.”
The air feels suspended in breath.
“He confined them to Astefar. What you now know as the Forbidden Forest. He gathered his most powerful mages and his most desperate volunteers. They forged a seal.” His voice drops, heavy with memory. “A prison.”
Dust trembles loose from the vaulted ceiling.
“Thousands died in the making of it. The power required was catastrophic. It was not wrought by mortal hands alone. The Ancient Fae who had accepted worship lent their power to bind their kin. Together with the Firstborns who had chosen coexistence, it finally held.”
His gaze drifts toward the distant horizon only he can see.
“Casimir sealed them within Astefar,” Rhydan continues. “The Ancient Fae who would not bend. The monsters beyond reason. He named the forest forbidden and warned his people never to cross its borders.”
Rhianelle’s hands tighten on mine. She lived in that forest for nine hundred years.
“For a time, there was peace. The seventy-seven were worshipped. The thirty-two territories united beneath one crown. Aelfheim prospered.”
Contempt creeps into his voice. “But prosperity breeds hunger.”
Rhydan exhales. “Some among Casimir’s descendants became obsessed with power and territory. They looked upon what he had built and saw opportunity for exploitation rather than survival.”
“Like the Aeonians,” Red says quietly.
“Yes.” Rhydan inclines his head. “A royal elven line who cloaked greed in righteousness. They twisted Casimir’s legacy into permission for conquest.”
Rainer straightens. “You cannot reveal this to Aelfheim. Not now. Truth like that would fracture what little unity remains.”
“I know.” Rhydan’s expression grimaces. “But truth does not cease to exist because it is inconvenient. My granddaughter deserved to hear it.”
I have the uneasy sense that my wife already knows all of this. Her patrons are the Un themselves. Yet Rhianelle’s face reveals nothing. No shock or outrage. I cannot tell what she is thinking. I doubt anyone in this chamber can.
Rhianelle’s voice is quiet when she speaks. “Did my mother know?”
Rhydan’s expression softens. “Yes, starlight. She knew. I told her when she was young, just as I’m telling you now.”
“And you still supported her conquests?” Rhianelle’s voice wavers slightly.
“I loved her,” he answers simply. “All of her. Her ambition and her desperate need to protect what she saw as hers.”
His gaze shifts to Rainer.
“I imagine you understand.”
Rainer nods once. His jaw tightens as he swallows.
Rhydan turns back to Rhianelle. “I will stand with you if you choose to save Aelfheim. Just as I stood with your mother even knowing she was wrong in many things.”
The chamber holds that fragile moment.
The doors slam open. A Kashran soldier stumbles inside, chest heaving, eyes wide with terror. He falters at the sight of Rhydan and nearly drops to his knees.
“Your Grace—“
“Speak,” Rhydan commands.
The scout gulps air. “We saw war vessels out past the western reef. Black Rose regalia.”
Warmth drains from Rhianelle’s expression.
“How many ships?” she demands, already moving toward the door.
“A hundred, maybe more,” the scout gasps. “And beneath them… sea dragons. The sea itself is lit from below, Your Highness.”
Voices rise over one another in disbelief.
Western reef. Damn it.
They struck where we are weakest.
Kashran’s main fleet waits at Ironbreak Strait, guarding the trade corridor and the deepwater pass. To recall them from there will take three days with favorable winds.
“My fleet will sail within the hour.” Kahedin’s voice slices cleanly through the chaos. “Kashran remembers the old ways of fighting dragons.”
Rhydan hasn’t moved. “There’s more you need to know before you face them, starlight.”
His ancient eyes find mine across the chamber. “Vampire, you have walked between worlds. You understand the nature of sealed things.”
I incline my head. “All seals fail eventually. No matter how strong the spell, time eats at it.”
“Yes. Astefar’s seal has been weakening for centuries.” He looks back at Rhianelle. “Every year, the forest grows a little larger. Every decade, something else slips through the cracks.”
Rhianelle knows this better than any of us. But there’s something she’s not telling.
“The forest is always hungry,” she murmurs.
Rhydan nods slowly. “Some among the fae are aware of that hunger. They are counting on it.”
A chill passes through the chamber.
“Eirik Bloodhound knows?” Rainer asks sharply.
“Eirik is many things,” Rhydan replies. “Cruel. Ambitious. Ruthless. But he is not a fool. He understands that if Aelfheim fractures, the strain on the old magic will worsen.”
A pause.
“Perhaps that fracture is precisely what he seeks.”
Blaire goes pale. “He intends to unleash the things sealed in Astefar? Use them as weapons?”
“Perhaps that is even his goal.”
“Or attempt to bind them,” Kahedin says calmly. “Strike bargains. Trade blood for power.”
“That’s madness,” Aefric mutters.
“Your mother understood this, Rhianelle. It is why she ruled with iron. Why she crushed dissent before it could spread.” Rhydan’s voice gentles. “She knew Aelfheim had to remain stable and feared, even at the cost of mercy.”
Rhianelle’s face is a mask. But I can see the turmoil beneath.
“I know this is much to absorb, child. The weight of it would break lesser beings. But you needed to know. When you face Eirik’s forces, remember this. It is about more than territory or sovereignty. In the wrong hands, those gods and monsters could destroy the world.”
“We need to return to Volundr.” Rainer is already on his feet. “The defenses need coordination. We need to start evacuating the remaining civilians.”
“Yes.” Rhianelle straightens, eyes hardening. “Grandfather, will you stand with us?”
“I am too old for the battlefield, little starlight.” His massive hand lifts, brushing gently over her hair. “But Kahedin will bring Kashran’s full strength.”
The ancient elf pauses for a moment.
“Your mother knew all of this and still chose to fight for Aelfheim. She believed it was worth saving despite its lies and corruption. Perhaps you can finish what she started.”
“I’m not a conqueror,” Rhianelle says quietly.
“No.” His lips curve faintly. “And perhaps that is why you will succeed where she did not. She tried to hold the world together with force. You may yet hold it with wisdom.”
Rhianelle bows her head before taking her leave. Rhydan’s massive hand hovers above her one last time. A silent blessing.
I fall into step beside her. We cross the chamber and pass through the great doors with the others close behind. Kahedin’s voice follows us into the corridor. “Hold the harbor until we arrive.”
“If Eirik believes he can command the Un, he is a fool,” Rhydan adds behind us. “But he may shatter the world discovering that truth.”
The fortress doors groan open and cold sea wind rushes in, carrying the scent of salt and war. We push our Noctrals faster toward Volundr. The creatures are exhausted but they respond to our urgency.
A horn sounds from Volundr’s harbor. Three long blasts. The call to arms.
We rush toward the naval command.
The seadragons are here. Yet Rhydan’s words are heavier, the weight of truth he laid upon Rhianelle’s shoulders. She now knows her gods are lies. Somehow she has to take that knowledge with her and win an impossible war.
The battle for Volundr is about to begin.