The Dragon Prince - Book 1: Cold War

Falsetto

Rayla

The bard training hall had at one time been a natural rock formation which the elves had adapted to fit their purposes. Tall pillars of rock jutted upwards forming the sides of the entranceway and a leafy canopy of vines formed the roof. An ethereal sound filled the air made by unseen musicians whiling away on unknown instruments.

    Rayla was grateful for the corona of light filtering through the canopy of leaves as it meant Callum would not have to draw power from his own internal reserves. He had not slept in two days and maintaining his elven-form was taking a physical toll.

    Just prior to entering the bard training hall, Nivin explained how difficult his mother could be when it came to matters of magic and prophesy. She was ancient, even for an elf. She was known for playing her music for decades without break and considered conversation a sport.

    As the trio entered deeper into the guild hall, silvery notes of a harp filled Rayla's mind with a sense of peace. Without thinking, she found her footsteps fall into time with the measured beat behind each plucked note.

    Rayla pushed aside a curtain of vines and saw the source of the music; a golden harp arranged in the middle of a dais played by the most majestic elf Rayla had ever seen. The Sunfire elf's beauty was beyond mortal recognition; her mahogany skin glistened with an iridescent quality and her long braids of chestnut hair glimmered between threaded ribbons of yellow and purple. Her long, delicate fingers whisked across harp strings with grace and purposefulness.

    She did not look up from her playing as the trio approached the dais. Nivin cleared his throat, "mother, can you spare a moment?"

    She continued to play her instrument, disinterested in her son's question.

    Nivin took a few steps forward, placing a hand on his chest-guard and gesturing with his other hand towards Callum and Rayla, "my friends herald news, mother. Portents from the spirit realm."

    The beautiful elf plucked even more strings.

    "...news of father."

    She stopped playing, leaving a tuneless note hanging in the air. It left an uneasy feeling in Rayla's mind.

    The beautiful elf turned her head towards her son, the corners of her mouth curled upwards into a smile, "your father is forever lost to us and we are never to speak of him."

    "Yes, I understand that but if you would just allow me to introduce them, they will explain..."

    The tall elven matriarch stood up from her harp, tugging at the frilled ends of her golden gown. The glassy smile never left her porcelain face as she gave a nod towards the moonshadow elf assassin.

    "Rayla, we have met. And am I correct to assume that this is Fendyn your betrothed?"

    Rayla nodded nervously, "y-yes. We've been here visitin' my uncle."

    "I see," came the curt reply, "and does your betrothed not have a tongue for which to speak?"

    Rayla's heart began to race in her chest. She suddenly felt like an insect walking into a spider web.

     "I do," Callum uttered, "and yes I am Fendyn. To whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

     The sagely elf covered a wide grin with her long fingers. She pulled at the sides of her lengthy dress and took a deep bow.

    "Dear me, I had no idea the normally brusque Moonshadow elves were capable of such courtesy. I am Ernda, master bard of my village."

     Callum forced a smile and said, "as Rayla mentioned, we are here visiting her uncle and it is only by accident we discovered the whereabouts of Nivin's father."