The Lost Princess

Chapter Fifty: Feredir pt. 1

Earwen strolled through the city. After Amara had been dismissed from the first meeting, Eramire had decided she would go to the second one alone. Earwen was relieved; she didn't want to sit and listen to her sister argue with a bunch of old men. But then, she was also tired of sitting in the villa they had been provided and had decided to amuse herself by exploring the city. Amara was training a group of soldiers with Thorindir, as he had promised they would in return for Alistair's hospitality.

Earwen looked around as she walked. The architecture of the city was astounding. One moment she would be walking between a row of houses, and the next she'd find that the street ended at a wall or at a steep drop into another street. Houses were stacked on top of each other, and yet she could turn a corner and find herself in a small field plowed and growing anything from potatoes to wheat. These people had carved a life into a seemingly lifeless place.

Even more interesting than the preposterous city were its people. It was peculiar how much they seemed to value warfare, but it seemed they had no intention of interfering with the world around them. They were simply creating a utopia—a fortress impenetrable and unconcerned about the happenings around them. Women carried weapons, and children were taught to fight as young as twelve. Earwen had passed a home and seen a little boy being drilled mercilessly by his father. The parent swung a pole at his son, who held an ax much too heavy for him, drilling the son in blocking techniques, commanding him to move quicker. Even the women were well muscled and sturdy. No one lacked the hard, sturdy stature—unless, of course, they didn't carry giant blood in their veins.

The thing about the city that fascinated Earwen the most was that they allowed every citizen equal opportunity to rise up the ranks of society. Though she had gathered those most directly descended from the giants were still revered, immigrants were allowed to prove their worth. It wasn't easy, but this place could still provide even the most impoverished person with a second chance.

But even with this equality, the city was not without its dangers. The lowest rings of the city were dangerous and reminded her of her brief glimpse of Gaearost. Just the day before she had made the mistake of wandering down too far. Luckily an elderly woman with soot smudged on her face had herded her back onto the correct street, warning her not to return. Earwen obeyed and decided to only go as far as the marketplace that was just a few minutes' walk from the villa.

The city buzzed with constant activity, the squawks and caws of countless birds echoing everywhere. Birds were the main source of communication. People in the lower levels of the city could easily reach relatives above them. All they needed to do was grab a falcon or eagle, scrawl a quick note, and off the feathered creature would fly to deliver its message. There was also an occasional rumbling that rolled beneath their feet. Earwen had been told it was from the thousands of mining tunnels that ran under the city. These were the main source of employment for the citizens. Taiman was the largest producer of gems and metals in Rhovamben. But the mines had existed long before they had settled in the cliffs the second time.

The mines had been built by the dwarves centuries ago. Then the Purge happened. Long ago the giants and dwarves had shared the Carnelian Mountains in peace until one day, the dwarves pushed their mines into the giants' borders. A tunnel collapsed on a nest of prized dragon eggs. This sparked a war that would leave both races nearly annihilated. The dwarves and dragons were obliterated, and the giants, unable to survive the rough terrain with so few, limped away from the mountains to live in the villages of men. Not a single kingdom reached out to the survivors, and the Carnelian Mountains became nothing but wilderness.

But the call of their homeland was not lost even as the giant's blood was intermingled with men's. Eventually a leader stood out among them, and he led the half breeds back toward the red cliffs. His name was Leonidas. He tamed a new species, the gryphon, resurrected the lifestyle of his ancestors, and the people followed him readily. But the elves were unsettled by the giants' return to the mountains. The mines had collapsed with the disappearance of the dragons and dwarves. Some said the mountains had been cursed with the violence that had unfolded on their slopes. The elf king at that time had demanded Leonidas not open the mines. But the new king needed a way to support his rising kingdom, which was sitting on one of the largest treasure troves in all of Rhovamben. He had no intention of leaving it trapped in the rocks below.