Alnaran-Halfanzel: Endings & Beginnings

Endings and Beginnings
A tale from Alnaran and Halfanzel, twin lands marred by war and corruption.

The sun shone high over the Aranhome and the surrounding city of Hul-Andoroth, as an escorted figure strode proudly down the Way of Kings to the Black Gate, Southern entrance to the home of the King of Alnaran. High above him, as he paused before going in, rose the brooding battlements, from behind which the rulers of Alnaran had reigned from the time of the Lords Aranel through the Twin Kings and to the present epoch. Kerngath had paused because he knew that he would never see their resplendent glory ever again; King Tanuril did not tolerate failure. The Commander of the Eastern Armies turned to his protégé, the warrioress Xantereon, taking in for a moment her deadly beauty which he had never before truly appreciated, then back to the Gate, and a quite certain future.

As the anteyard of the Aranhome passed him by, Kerngath thought of what would happen to his lieutenant, whether she would be punished following his failure, but this was futile; the king's moods were never predictable. Perhaps his thirst for power over Halfanzel would restrain him from butchering his most able generals together, and he would wait for her to make her own mistakes. The statues of the Guardians came alongside, and he stopped; a final time, to breathe the royal air, protected by the blood and iron of the people of Alnaran, and to hear tho trickling of the water in the black marble fountain behind him, the song of the birds playing in the sky, his own and Xantereon's respiration, the sounds of the day and of the living world. After what seemed an eternity, a hand was raised and the gate was opened before the condemned. Kerngath took a step forward on the path to death.

"At last, you make your presence felt."

King Tanuril, son of Tanurim, supreme power of Alnaran, bearer of the blood of Desetral, rose from the black-and-white pied marble throne which seemed to blink in and out of existence, existing in a twilight realm under the flickering braziers which illuminated the, otherwise shadowed, windowless chamber.

"I had thought you might never arrive."

As he moved toward Kerngath, stepping down from his raised platorm, he semed to shimmer in his silken robes, the five colours of the kingdom glowing, aura-like, in the air around the King.

"But, now that you are here, I have something to share with you."

Tanuril paced across the polished floor, which lay unworn even after thousands of years, his footfall sure. He stopped directly in front of Kerngath, head and shoulders above the powerful general of his armies, who had personally defeated some of the mightiest of Halfanzel's warriors.

"I have been regrettably informed of the events following the campaign through Santurnil, and those leading up to the fall of Suranor."

From where he stood, Kerngath was forced to look up at his lord, though he was uncommonly tall. He could make out Tanuril's massive musculature beneath his finery, and despite his efforts, he could hear his own breathing, quick and anxious, over the king's speech. He could hear the trembling of his lieutenant over both.

"Needless to say, general Kerngath, I am quite disappointed."

Xantereon shook in suppressed anger as the arm, still glowing in the torchlight, reached out, the red of the sleeve catching a beautiful glimmer as the King placed his hand around her mentor's throat. With a jolt, and a sound resembling splitting wood, Kerngath's neck snapped, and she saw the drops of bloody spittle land on her lord's finery. He let the body fall without heed, and observed her with the eyes of the titan-blood; cold, lifeless, yet in flames, imbued with the strength of ages and the fury of the world's birth.

"I am certain, Commander Xantereon, that in your new position you will not allow me to become again disappointed. Avenge your mentor, and destroy those who precipitated his downfall."

And then, baring his vicious teeth in the hideously false, yet mesmerisingly handsome, smile of a thinly veiled threat;

"I am also certain that you are quite anxious to please me."

Tanuril turned away and proceeded from the hall, flanked by his veteran honour guard, whose bronze weapons and armour bore the glamer of enchanting, even though not one of them was more prepared to handle an assassin than the King himself.