Chapter Thirteen
No moon, sun, or star ever dazzled the night
Like the radiant grace of Ellysetta the Bright.
From “The Star of Chakai,” a warriors’ song of Ellysetta the Bright
The Fading Lands ~ Dharsa
The remainder of the journey to Dharsa passed rapidly. Spirit weaves carrying exuberant greetings and well wishes continued
to pour across the common path. By midday, the wide, rolling grasslands of the Plains of Corunn gave way to graceful swells
of densely forested earth that rose and fell like waves on the ocean, all building towards the Shining City.
Constructed entirely of white stone, its many towers capped by gleaming gold spires and domes, Dharsa rose like a jeweled diadem from the rich greenery of the forested hills.
The city was built upon a ring of five outer hills, all circling a larger central peak topped by an immense, shining palace.
Graceful buildings of incredible beauty and delicacy soared amid lush stands of greenery, terraced gardens, and trees laden with scented blossoms and plump, shining fruit.
Water cascaded from breathtaking fountains and artfully arranged cliffs, feeding streams that wound down the hillsides before merging into the wide, shining ribbon of the River Faer.
Birds of every shape and color flitted and swooped from tree to tree, filling the sky with a rainbow of dancing colors and song.
Ellysetta had never seen something so perfect, so beautiful. ?Rain . . . oh, Rain . . . ?
The black tairen turned his head, his lavender eyes glowing bright. ?Welcome to Dharsa, shei’tani. The shining heart of the Fading Lands.?
Rain dipped his wing and banked left, soaring along the perimeter of the ring of hills. Steli, Fahreeta, and Torasul followed
close on his tail, and the four tairen landed in a small clearing where the Fey returning from Celieria City waited with Ellysetta’s
lu’tans and the rest of the former rasa.
The warriors were smiling as they had not smiled in years. A palpable aura of joy surrounded them, and they had already buffed
their gleaming black leathers and polished their steel to a mirror shine in preparation for their entrance into the city.
Waiting Air masters spun Ellysetta, Marissya, and Dax clear of their saddles.
Gaelen was there the moment his sister’s feet touched ground. He caught her in his arms and held her tight. “Mioralas, little sister. Gods’ blessings upon you.” Still holding her tucked against his side, he offered Dax a smile and a hand,
which his bond brother clasped warmly. “Te a vo, Dax. My heart sings for you both.” He turned back to his sister, grinning proudly. “A Tairen Soul, no less. I never thought
v’En Solande had it in him.”
Dax was too happy to take offense. “Just wait, bond brother. When my son finds his flame, he’ll teach you respect.”
“Some miracles are beyond even a Tairen Soul’s power.” Bel smirked at Gaelen’s narrow-eyed look and added, “Release your sister.
There are other Fey who would wish her well.”
While Dax and Marissya accepted the congratulations of the Fey, Earth masters enveloped the pair in swirling threads of power, changing their leathers to rich flowing robes in shades of green and white to celebrate the precious life growing in Marissya’s womb.
The hundreds of Fey surrounded her like the treasure she was, and each of the former rasa took a moment to kneel and touch her hand in a way they would never have allowed themselves to do only a few days earlier.
When all had offered Marissya their joy and she had spun a shei’dalin’s blessing on the assembly, the warriors stepped back to form ranks.
Rain took his place at Ellysetta’s side. He had changed into full ceremonial dress, black leathers, purple-silk-lined black
cape, his boots tooled with the scarlet and purple outlines of tairen rampant, Tairen Crown resting upon his brow. Ellysetta,
in her plain brown traveling leathers, felt out of place beside the others, but when she asked Rain to weave a more appropriate
gown, he smiled mysteriously and nodded towards Bel, saying, “Your lu’tans have prepared something for you.”
Bel stood at the front of the gathered warriors. When all eyes were upon him, he bowed low and said, “It is the custom of
the Fey that a shei’dalin who has won the bloodsworn bond of a warrior should wear his blade at all times, both for her protection and as a symbol
of the honor in which she holds the warrior’s bond. But three nights ago in Chakai, the Feyreisa proved yet again she was
born to set tradition on its head.”
The lu’tans laughed and shouted, “Miora felah ti’Feyreisa!”
Bel waited for their shouts to die down before he continued. “Three hundred seventeen Fey bound their souls to the protection
of the Feyreisa after her legendary night of healing. Counting Gaelen and me, Ellysetta Feyreisa now claims three hundred
nineteen bloodsworn champions. No shei’dalin has ever won the bonds of so many.”
“Nor ever will again!” the lu’tans cried.
White teeth flashed in a brief grin of agreement before Bel once again raised his hands to quiet his exuberant brothers.
“This posed quite a challenge, since the Feyreisa clearly could not wear so many blades, yet not to do so would dishonor the bond. We”—he turned to gesture toward the assembled Fey—“the warriors who have bloodsworn ourselves to her service, have devised what we hope is an acceptable solution.”
He gestured to Gaelen, Tajik, Rijonn, and Gil. The four Fey stepped forward, holding Fey’cha belts and a set of studded leathers
in shei’dalin red.
“Gaelen and I have agreed that Tajik, Gil, and Rijonn should join us to serve as your primary quintet,” Bel continued. “Our
blades are here, in this hip belt. The other lu’tans threw lots to see whose blades you would wear in your Fey’cha belts, and the rest we transformed into the studs in your leathers.
They are all here”—he gestured to the studded leathers and the weapons belts—“every one of your bloodsworn blades. Let a single
drop of your blood fall on any stud or blade, and you will summon the warrior who bound himself to you.”
Ellysetta accepted the gift with reverent hands. “Beylah vos. I will wear these with pride.”
“Sha vel’mei, kem’falla.” Bel bowed. “Today, however, we thought this might be more appropriate.” He nodded at Rijonn and Tajik, who raised their hands
and loosed bright weaves of Earth. The leathers disappeared and re-formed on Ellysetta’s body as an ornately embroidered gown
woven from the silvery Fey steel of her lu’tans’ blades. Two sashes of purple and scarlet crisscrossed her chest like Fey’cha belts, holding dozens of sheathed bloodsworn
blades, while the Fey’cha of her primary quintet dangled at her hips alongside the Tairen’s Eye crystals of the warriors who’d
died to protect her back in Celieria. Her hair they left in a thick rope of red coils down her back, bound by a series of
silver rings.
“Nicely done, my brothers,” Rain approved. Steli, Fahreeta, and Torasul purred their agreement. With the concentration of
so many Fey nearby, Ellysetta’s own power was rising. Her entire form gleamed with a golden-white radiance that made her gown
of silvery Fey steel shine like a star. “You will dazzle them, shei’tani.” He lifted his wrist for her hand. “Come meet your people, Feyreisa.”
The main gate of Dharsa, flanked by a pair of crouching stone tairen, was an exquisitely carved white stone arch of immense
proportions. Beyond the arch, an avenue lined by giant sentinel trees, whose intertwining branches formed a soaring, sunlight-dappled
corridor, led the way into the fabled Fey city.
Thousands of immortal Fey had gathered on rooftops and the main thoroughfare. They cheered the arrival of the warriors returning
from Celieria, but when they caught sight of Marissya and Dax in their robes of verdant green, a celebratory roar rose from
the crowds. Celebration turned to tearful joy as more than a thousand former rasa returned to their city and loved ones for the first time in many long years.
Joy turned to awe as Fahreeta and Torasul stepped into view. Fahreeta roared and growled and held her shining wings high in
a show of beauty and fierce majesty. She stopped occasionally to spout small jets of flame, much to the Fey’s cheering delight.
Torasul, stoic and deadly, padded with lethal grace at her side, lowering his head every now and again to glare at the Fey
gathered along the avenue and bare a threatening fang, which made the warriors grin and bow.
Behind Fahreeta and Torasul marched Ellysetta’s three hundred lu’tan, and as they stepped into the streets of Dharsa, their voices rose in a song of their own, called “The Star of Chakai,” which
several of them had composed to celebrate the shei’dalin who restored their souls.
Finally, it was Rain and Ellysetta’s turn to enter the city.
“Are you ready, shei’tani?” Rain’s eyes were aglow with a mix of tenderness and pride.
Though the shy Celierian in her wanted to turn and flee, Ellysetta drew a deep breath and put her hand on his wrist. “Aiyah, I’m ready.” Together they stepped from the sheltering avenue of trees onto the broad, white stone streets of Dharsa.
The moment she appeared, a deafening roar arose from the Fey.
“Ellysetta Beilissa, Eiliss o Chakai. Ellysetta the Bright, the Star of Chakai!”
The reverberant cry stole every ouce of breath from Ellysetta’s lungs and startled thousands of birds into flight.
Ellysetta froze in dazed surprise. Fluttering wings filled the skies of Dharsa, and fragrant petals rained down from the blossoming
orchards of the surrounding hills. From every road and rooftop garden, every path and walkway, the Shining Folk sang her name
with breathtaking, boundless joy. Thousands of Fey hearts opened to her in an outpouring of love and welcome so abundant,
so genuine, it stunned her to her soul.
The hand on Rain’s wrist began to shake. Tears filled her eyes, turning vision to a watery blur until she could no longer