Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“Are you a fool?” Fiora snapped, annoyed. “This is the safest place in Driochmor. It is where the safest and best of magic resides.”
“I don’t care what you say. My wife does as I say or we leave now.”
Fiora flitted back from him. “Calm down there, Thornek.”
Bria saw what frightened the fairy and had her referring to him by his tribe’s name. Kaelan’s eyes shimmered gold. She hurried to calm him with her comforting touch, placing her free hand on his shoulder. She almost yanked her hand off him, his anger was so intense, but she didn’t. She kept her hand there and let her patience flow into him.
“Worry not, husband, I will remain with you, not to appease but because I want to,” Bria said softly.
His anger faded quicker than Bria expected. Though it continued to simmer, at least it was not near to breaking loose.
“I appreciate that, wife,” Kaelan said, relieved, and kissed her lips gently.
“Now can we get on with this?” Fiora asked.
“Do not keep us waiting,” Kaelan urged with a slight smile.
Fiora muttered and flew to the door, opening it with the wave of her tiny hand.
The room proved much like the settlement itself. Simple, welcoming, and far more beautiful than Bria expected.
Sunlight streamed through tall windows, bathing the stone walls in a warm golden glow. Thick timber beams crossed the high ceiling overhead and the scent of woodsmoke mingled pleasantly with herbs hanging to dry near the massive hearth. Long tables occupied the center of the room while shelves filled with books and scrolls lined portions of the walls.
It was not a place of rulers but rather a place of wisdom.
Five people rose from a table near the far end of the hall.
A smaller table nearby had been prepared with platters of bread, cheese, fruit, and steaming mugs.
“You have had a long journey. You must be hungry,” the silver-haired man said. “Please sit and eat.”
Bria thought it a wonderful idea, especially since their last meal was yesterday.
Kaelan did not.
“That can wait.”
The silver-haired man studied him for a moment, then nodded. “As you wish.” His gaze shifted to Bria. “Welcome. I am Lord Oaken, Elder of the High Council.”
Bria immediately recalled Fiora’s hurried description and found herself studying the man more closely. There was something in his amethyst eyes that suggested very little escaped his notice, but then his ability was the gift of sight, seeing things before they occurred.
“We are pleased to meet you, Lord Oaken,” Bria said while her husband stared at the man.
Lord Oaken gestured to the broad-shouldered man beside him. “This is Marek.”
Fiora’s words came back to her instantly.
The warrior-like one is the Keeper of Strategy, his gift is strategic sight. He is able to envision multiple possible outcomes of conflicts, negotiations, and battles, often advises the council on war and defense.
Looking at him now, Bria found it easy to believe. He carried himself like a warrior who had already considered every possible threat in the room.
She acknowledged him with a nod while Kaelan studied him closely.
“Tavian,” Lord Oaken said with a smile. “The youngest among the council.”
He offered a warm smile and Bria recalled Fiora saying he was Diplomat of the Council, his gift empathy. He sensed emotions and intentions, often settling disputes before they escalated. She could see calm in his blue eyes and Bria almost smiled thinking how Fiora found him annoying. The gift would make it difficult to provoke him, something she probably had tempted to do.
“Seren,” Lord Oaken continued.
The elderly woman inclined her head.
The Keeper of Records is what Fiora called her. She had the gift of perfect recall. She remembered every document, event, conversation, and record she had encountered. She served as the living history of Driochmor.
Bria could not imagine maintaining that much knowledge.
That made the last council member.
“Rowan,” Lord Oaken said.
Tall and slim. Quiet and observant, Fiora had said, and Keeper of the Land. He feels disturbances in nature and magic and often knows something has changed long before anyone else does. He was likely the first to realize Driochmor itself reacted to Bria’s arrival.
“It is a pleasure to meet you all,” Bria said sincerely.
“And you, Bria of Willowmere,” Seren replied.
“Now of Northland,” Kaelan corrected. “Bria is my wife.”
She was not surprised he made that clear to the council. However, she was surprised by his next announcement.
“And she will be returning to Northland with me,” he said with a strength that left no doubt it would be his way. “Whatever concern brings us here, it ends today.”
The room fell unexpectedly silent.
Then a woman’s voice spoke from somewhere in the shadows.
“I am relieved to hear that.”
Bria watched as a woman stepped from the shadows near the hearth. She was tall, slender, and her movements graceful. Her long, pure white hair lay in a neat braid on her chest, and while her garments were common, she wore them regally. Her eyes settled immediately on Bria.