The Paladins of Naretia

Chapter 25

The sphere-like prisons constructed of interlocking vines didn't feel as though they appreciated being balled up as they writhed beneath Aria's feet. Like a drip of water off a dewy leaf, they dangled precariously in the highest of branches of ancient forest trees. Moving and swaying in the breeze, the disgruntled groans sounded out the tree's objections. The woody spines murmured their secrets to one another as they leaned and bowed to the others conversations under the weight of it all.

To her right, Olórin rested his back against the wall of his small cell. Still wide awake in the depths of the cool night, he watched the silver haired elves glide through the trees in the twilight. They milled in and out of hollows and larger balls of vines, which hugged the very tops of the ancient trees. Although the elves appeared to live in these nests, Aria could not see a single bridge or evidence of any construction whatsoever. Like Olórin's unwavering gaze, she too couldn't help but be mesmerised by their ghostly appearances, disappearing and reappearing through the thick fronds.

To her left, Aramus lay unconscious in his own cage, the vines trying to writhe away from touching him too. She couldn't see his chest move in the dim moonlight, but the sound of his breathing reassured her that he was still alive. Even while so vulnerable, his silhouette was powerful, strong, and, were it not for the circumstance of his heritage, would have made him a champion of the King's Guard. Aria raked her eyes over him, wondering if his life, and her life, might have been very different if he didn't resemble his father so much. 'Perhaps if he knew love, even a small amount of it, he might not have been driven to kill my parents? Perhaps there might not be any change at all.'

Aria shook her head, it did no good to dwell on "what if's" and she knew it. But no matter how hard she tried to think of other things, her curiosity drew her eyes back to Aramus. According to the elf named Sudia, his wing, now heavily bandaged, was healing rapidly, which surprised her. It was strange too that after only a few hours, the small cuts on his face, arm, and shoulder had disappeared. But there were a great many things that had surprised her lately. The first being that she had been brave enough to stand in front of Aramus whilst he was possessed by Dantet's power, not really knowing if she could calm him. The second, and more shocking, was that he had actually listened to her. Perhaps it was the touch of another human being that had broken through his rage, or perhaps it was her kind words and belief that he could be saved. 'Maybe that is all he needs, someone to believe in him?'

Her thoughts were interrupted by Aramus's groaning as he began to stir.

"Aramus, are you all right?" Olórin asked, pushing himself against his cage to get closer to the winged man.

Aramus rolled onto his back and gasped as his weight pressed down on his injured wing. Grasping onto the sides of his cage, Aramus sat up – his arms shaking with the effort and his teeth clenched with pain. He gingerly stretched out his wing a few times within the confines of his prison.

"Sore, but I'm okay," he replied, winching. "Where are we?"

"The elven city of Rhidwynn," Aria replied, twisting her wrists to get some relief from the binds, to no avail.

Aramus leaned forward and examined his surroundings.

"Doesn't look like a city to me."

"That is because they do not harm nature to construct houses or buildings of debate. They live within their environment, or rather their environment provides what they need for them," Olórin said. "It's quite admirable really, but not a way that I would choose to live. These twigs are far too pokey to be called a bed."