They walked together into the wilderness, and Relma kept a hand near Lightning Trail. The trees above them were thin and beautiful. They were white-barked with low-hanging branches. The sort she'd climbed with Ronald in the old days. But soon, they entered the darker parts of the forest. The trees became thicker, and the light came through the leaves less. As they did, Anoa looked more and more on edge. It was as if something was hurting him, but he was trying to hide it. Relma wondered what it was. Some inner conflict or spiritual attack?
She supposed that Anoa would be subjected to those now and then. On the other hand, Relma doubted all he did was sit around and wait for the descendant. He probably had essential responsibilities from Elranor. But it did not seem right to ask him about them now.
But what was the conflict? The sword? It was his sword. He was the first to wield it."Come quickly," said Anoa. "We have little time to waste. We don't want anyone to get suspicious, do we?"
Relma decided enough was enough. "...Anoa, can I ask you something?"
"What is it?" asked Anoa.
"Something is different about you," said Relma. "It's not just your appearance."
Anoa sighed, and his appearance shifted, looking more human. It was challenging to describe exactly what had changed. It was something about how he carried himself. "That is to be expected. When we first met, my mind was somewhat divided."
"Divided?" asked Relma.
"As an ascended being, I exist outside this material plane," said Anoa. "During our first encounter, I underwent an assault on my spirit. It left my mind somewhat... changed. "Since then, I have pulled myself together."
"Who launched the attack?" asked Relma curiously.
Anoa remained silent for a long moment. As if considering his answer. But why would he feel the need to consider it? Was he reluctant to tell her? Or was he tailoring the story like she had when getting caught doing something naughty as a child? "...I really shouldn't be telling you this. But I suppose there is no harm in warning you. The machinations of Duke Vanion Gabriel run very deep. It was through one of his agents that I was brought to harm."
Duke Vanion Gabriel. That was a name Relma had heard a lot lately, even this far south. He was growing in power. Aren and Aunt Pan disliked him. But to attack Anoa the Bright? "What? But how could he-"
"Vanion does not regard anything as sacred," said Anoa, looking somewhat cornered. "To him, the gods are but kings to be toppled. I'm afraid that if he is not stopped, he may eventually come to rule over Antion. And from there, he may seek to bind the other Harlenorian Kingdoms to his will.
"He would create Harlenor Reunited in his own image. Ignoring the intent of the prophecy." Why did Anoa fear Vanion Gabriel? Surely Vanion was only one of many nobles and an outsider. How could such a person take control of Antion in one lifetime? Maybe he is marrying into it, but that would be his son. Vanion was already married to an Amazon; Aunt Pan had told her that much. That was not an arrangement you could break.
Was he really that dangerous?
Relma nodded. "Well, I'll stop him if it comes to that." He wasn't telling her something, but she didn't want him to know she knew.
Anoa smiled and ruffled her hair. It felt good, and Relma wondered if her Father or Mother would have done this had they lived. "You may look at that. That is why I want you to fight in this tournament. I believe the best way to stop Vanion is to speed up Elranor's schedule. If the Heir of Kings comes into her own early, then Vanion won't be able to become King of Antion."
"Does Elranor agree?" asked Relma suddenly.
Anoa flinched. His eyes darted to the sword, then away. "As you can no doubt attest, Elranor is nothing if not respectful of the will of the individual. He allows his agents to serve him in whatever way they deem best. He likes to provide only occasional oversight from the sidelines.
"It is both his greatest strength and his greatest weakness." He started walking, and Relma walked with him. "Either way, should you win the tournament, it will spread your name throughout the land. You will have a great deal more credibility. And that will help you in claiming your rightful inheritance."
So Anoa and Elranor disagreed on methods?
"What if I lose?" said Relma. "Won't that discredit me?"
"That is why you will enter the tournament in disguise," said Anoa. "Wear a helmet that conceals your face, and I will devise a spell to conceal you. Then, if you are defeated, none will know it was the Heir of Kings.
"While if you are victorious, you may throw off your helm after being proclaimed the victory. Then, you will spread your renown far and wide in one move. In this region, at least." He paused. "All creatures face a choice at some point, Relma. You can try to win. Or you can let someone else try for you. Only the former path leads to greatness.
"Here we are."
Before, they were large hillocks. It was covered in a green turf, and trees had grown around it. Was there some kind of secret passage?
"I don't see anything," said Relma.
"Of course you don't," said Anoa with a laugh. "You don't expect caches to remain untouched for thousands of years. All without being hidden?"
"Was it really thousands of years?" asked Relma. A lot could happen in that time.
"It was a large number," said Anoa. "Harlenor is not fond of specific dates, and I do not remember them. I was merely being poetic. Our calendar is a very loose one compared to other worlds.
"You've been to other worlds?" asked Relma.
"Many," said Anoa. "But I won't be talking about that.
"Open wheat."
"Open wheat?" asked Relma. That was the most ridiculous password she'd ever heard.
Anoa looked at her and shrugged. "When I made this cache, I wanted something easy to remember but hard to guess. So I'd keep a bit of wheat on me when I was walking.
"And wheat is important. It's a good way to feed your people. If a King fails to feed his populace, that King has failed completely."
"It doesn't seem to be opening?" noted Relma.
Anoa paused. Then he snapped his fingers. "...Oh, right."
"What is it?" asked Relma.
"The language has changed," said Anoa. "I'll need to speak it in the old tongue of Harlenor." He spoke something. It was a harsh tongue that hurt Relma's ears to listen to. It seemed like an excellent language for threatening people. As he spoke, the side of the hillock suddenly fell inward to reveal a great stone door. The door slid aside to reveal a dark cave beyond.
"There we go. The doors are opened now-" began Anoa.
And then two gray snakelike creatures, only with legs, rushed out of the entrance. Relma quickly scrambled up a tree as they snapped and snarled. They had crests on their heads and breathed smoke from their nostrils. Their clawed hands left no marks on the roots.
Anoa blinked, staying where he was. "Oh right, the dragons."
"Dragons?!" asked Relma.
"Well, not really dragons, more imitations," said Anoa. "They were created in the image of gold dragons. Aren made them for me."
"Well, how am I supposed to get past them?" said Relma, drawing Lightning Trail.
One of the beasts scaled up the tree, but she whacked it on the snout. She didn't feel any force, and she thought she'd missed it. But it fell backward and hit the ground. There was a crack on its snout, but it healed in moments.
"Not really sure," admitted Anoa, looking in interest. "Honestly, it has been a very long time since I've been here. It may be some kind of secret test."
Flames were unleashed from their mouths, covering the underbrush. Clouds of smoke rose around her. Relma climbed higher to avoid the heat. Though it wasn't as hot as she thought it would be.
"Some test!" said Relma. "They're trying to burn me alive!"
"Please don't demean your heritage, Relma," said Anoa. "Calm down, look, and think." Relma looked at the dragons. Then she looked at the underbrush that had caught fire. She remembered the heat from the forest fire Ronald had started in the wolven forest. But she felt none of that. Neither was she choking on the smoke.
"...The fire isn't actually burning anything," she realized.
Taking a chance, she climbed down. The dragons breathed fire at her, but it passed her by. She felt nothing beneath it. Then they faded away. At the mouth of the cave, she could see two dragon statues rearing on their hind legs. But they were still as stone.
"Precisely," said Anoa. "This was a stopgap measure to scare robbers off. I expect a magical signal has been sent to Gel Carn's inner sanctum, telling them the door has been opened."
"What? But this has to be secret!" said Relma.
"Don't worry. No one has been in my inner sanctum for years," said Anoa. "Even if the signal still works, I doubt anyone will understand it.
"Now, quickly into the cache."
He and Relma walked into the cache. Within, she found treasure, lots and lots of treasure. Gold and silver piled higher than she was tall. Valuable weapons and equipment were all over the place. She found her jaw drop. "Elranor above. Where did... how did you get all of this?"
"I stole it," said Anoa.
Relma stared at him. He gave her an unapologetic look. "Don't give me that look. I stole it from elves who wanted to wipe the human race out. And they wouldn't have been able to use it anyway. They were running for their lives into the east."
"You don't live up to your own legend?" asked Relma. Finally, his black sense of humor landed despite her own efforts.
"No one lives up to their own legend," said Anoa. "Especially Kings. Now, you'd best fill your bags with gold as quickly as possible. I don't like leaving the doors open like this."
Relma took out the bags and began to fill them as much as she could. Then Anoa sighed. "No, not that full. You'll break them. And you won't be able to carry that much."
Relma nodded and picked up what looked to be a solid gold plate. "Not that either," said Anoa. "It isn't nearly as valuable as it looks. You'll want that one." He pointed to a different plate that looked no more or less valuable.
"How do you know so much about things' value?" asked Relma.
"My mother was a metalsmith of luxury items for the elves," said Anoa. "And the husband of a god. I kept up the habit."
"Wait, you worked for the elves?" asked Relma.
"There was a condescending portion of the elven nations. They kept human servants," said Anoa. "Rather than wipe them out, they pretended to help them. Lord Feanor was the most insufferable of the lot."
"Ah," said Relma, continuing to pick objects of value. "So, how did you end up turning against them?"
"An elven king heard that one of the people in my village had made jokes at his expense," said Anoa. "So he burned it to the ground. To this day, I don't know if it is true. There was hardly even any outrage. Although, the outrage wasn't enough.
"Or perhaps my mother was killed for disappointing the master." Anoa paused. "Perhaps both? Memories are like legends. They shift and change with time."
"How did you survive?" asked Relma. That was very different from what she'd heard before. Did the stories connect somehow?
"Elranor helped me escape," said Anoa. "And set me on the path to vengeance.
"Anyway, I killed that king's entire family. Well, most of it. And most of his species. I destroyed all records of his existence and burned down everything he'd built. So I am content with how things turned out.
"My only regret is that I wasn't able to kill his daughter."
"Who was she?" asked Relma, not liking this conversation.
"Harlenorians today know her as Queen Dawn," said Anoa sadly. "You shouldn't take any more. Remember, you'll have to carry the rest back."
Relma nodded. "Right. Thank you."
She could have made a self-righteous speech about how what Anoa had done was wrong. But she hadn't lived during those times, so she wasn't inclined to judge. Besides, it wouldn't have made a difference.
As they walked out, however, she felt like she should say something. "Anoa?"
"Yes," said Anoa.
"I don't think you were a very good person in life," said Relma, deciding not to beat around the bush.
Anoa sighed. "Kings don't have that luxury."
For the first time, Relma wondered if she wanted to be King. Then she thought of all that glory and power and decided it would all be worth it.