Vanáriel Vaewren

Laughter bubbled out of Gonzalo’s mouth as soon as Vaná asked about Blademaster Dorn. “Let me tell you, it wasn’t easy. We still had a couple more balls to attend to so I basically had to beg him to let me go. He understood though,” he shrugged, dropping the tone so only Vaná could hear. “He knew there was no way for him to stop me. You are and will always be my main priority, and he’s happy I found… you, in the middle of all this.” He wasn’t ready to call it love just yet, although both of them knew that was exactly what they felt. It was too soon, too difficult in the middle of this chaos, but wherever Vaná went, Gonzalo would soon follow. “You should definitely expect a letter. As if I’m a maiden in distress. That man is impossible.”

Vaná’s eyes turned to the audience their little scene was creating, bright eyes watching as their leaders found each other again but this time, in a way they had rarely let others seen before. It made Gonzalo’s cheeks color innocently, like a boy just discovering was liking someone felt like. It was stupid, he was too old for such demonstrations, and yet he couldn’t help scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Of course,” he agreed and followed Vaná towards her tent. 

Once inside, her face shifted into something hard and stoic, straight to business. Gonzalo’s, on the other hand, turned playful and flirty. “What, you’re not even going to kiss me once before we start planning our next mission? Seems like you didn’t miss me as much,” he whispered as he stepped closer, his tall frame towering over Vaná as their breaths mixed by their proximity. He knew it was irresponsible, they had a duty and he was truly worried about Arden but not kissing her once, away from prying eyes, seemed completely unacceptable.

Vaná could not help but grin at the thought of receiving a letter from Blademaster Dorn. Although she admired and respected Gonzalo’s unwavering loyalty to the Arms Guild, it was also a great comfort to know that he had become just as steadfast in his loyalty to the Wardens - and possibly to her. It made her heart skip a beat in thinking such a guilty thought but Vaná could not imagine the Wardens succeeding as much as they had without Gonzalo’s leadership. He had quickly become a second leader in their organisation; a warrior to depend on for tactics and courage in the toughest of fights and a comrade to lighten even the darkest of moods.

When they entered the tent, Vaná turned to her companion and raised a single eyebrow in amusement at his playful tone. As he closed the distance between them, her lips twitched into a mischievous smirk and she curled her fingers against his hard chest. She took a step closer until she could feel his cool breath brush against her skin, sending welcomed shivers down her spine.

“I did not want the others to see such a private moment, Lalo,” she answered in a low, playful tone and watched him with sparkling eyes, “call me selfish but I wanted this moment to just be between us, like I have imagined it to be countless times since you left.” Her voice trailed off into a quiet whisper as her eyes flickered between his dark, warm eyes and his lips. She leant in closer and a fierce impulsive need to hold him overwhelmed all other thoughts. 

Belladonna walked with grace.  She’d arrived a week before to prepare, and she’d laid out her best.  Her shoes were stuffed with wool, though she could already feel the blisters forming.  She’d ran a razor along her legs, and pulled on her favorite creme tights—the ones with the golden bow at the top.  Her lips were a deep shade of red and perfectly in the lines of her plump lips.  Wildflowers were woven into her white hair, intertwined in the braids pulling her hair up.  If any of the nobles cared to look closer at her necklace, the Lady Blacktree might notice her great great great grandmother’s diamond necklace, a beautiful tiered piece that graced Belladonna’s throat.  Her eyes were painted and enhanced.  Not a single thing was out of place.  She felt perfect, and she hoped she was.  At least, to the court’s standards.

Vaná’s words startled here only a bit when she spoke them.  She stayed visibly calm but turned towards Vaná with a small hum.  “Vaná, darling, I was prepared for this before we got the invitation.  We’re political beings, and we have been since the beginning.”  Bell was the most serious she’d ever been.  Her face was pulled taut and grim, almost as though it was a mask.  She folded her hands in front of her and sighed.

She gripped  Vaná’s arm and pulled her close, breathing in her ear.  “I will distract, and we may have a chance to rescue dear Arden.”  For a moment longer, she stayed there and looked  Vaná   in the eye.  “Is there anything I need to know?  Anything I cannot say?  Simply name a name, and they will die tonight.  I am your left hand tonight, Vanáriel Vaewren, and I will do as you ask without question and without hesitation.”  

She looked at Vaná and let a small smile escape.  “What I’m saying is… you’re not alone.  You’ve played this game before.  And I believe you will play it wonderfully again.” 

It was a relief to enter the main arena of the ball with Bell at her side. The woman looked positively enchanting. Vaná found herself staring at her dear friend with a mixture of awe and respect; at every angle, Bell seemed to flawlessly emphasize her beauty and carry herself with a grace which only an experienced noble or politician seemed to possess. Vaná felt like her stern, long strides were wooden in comparison. Since Bell had often walked in the circles of the upper society, Vaná was not surprised by Bell’s talents to be at ease in the lion’s den and she respected Bell for being so prepared for the event. As soon as Vaná had revealed their mission to the Wardens, the bard seemed to come into her element. She knew how to approach these people and how to play their cunning, political games where a subtle word was actually a threat concealed beneath a silky tone. The Wardens were fortunate to have Bell. 

Although Vaná was a political being, she did not feel she possessed the right level of grace and tolerance to smile sweetly at the present nobles. It was true that the Wardens’ leader was a capable player of the Game of Houses but she preferred to play it in debates and councils, not balls! The last time she had danced was with Gonzalo and even under his gentle instruction, she stepped on his poor feet several times.

Bell’s touch on Vaná’s arm forced her out of her reverie. She raised her grey eyes and stared at the other with a serious sincerity. “We are entering the lion’s den indeed and the High King seems determined to play a game of chess with us,” she paused and her brow furrowed in disapproval at the thought of such a King, “but he will soon learn that we are prepared for his games and we will win.”

She raised her hand and covered Bell’s fingers, squeezing gently. “There is nothing to worry about in terms of saying anything wrong. Although, I think it is safe to say that mentioning the Rift above Miwor will be a sore spot for the nobility. They did claim allegiance to us and not the High King after all, it could be used as ammunition against us to label us as rebels.” Vaná’s mouth curled into a snarl at that last word. They were the true guardians of Eldris and the High King dared to soil their name with such an insult? Vaná cooled her expression to an icy look and turned to the servants who were impatiently waiting for the two Wardens to approach.

She inhaled a deep, calming breath and stared at her reflection in the tall, heavily embellished mirrors which flanked the royal hallways. Vaná hardly recognised her reflection. With the kind help from Bell and the strict advice from Lisselá, the Wardens’ leader had temporarily ditched her white divided robes and embraced a more extravagant look. She was garbed in a deep red dress that was belted at the waist in a wide, golden belt that emphasized her slimness. Her long dark hair was piled up on her head in an intricate style of waves, curls and beaded jewellery. It felt too heavy for Vaná’s liking. She preferred her white robes which allowed easy movement but Vaná understood that in some ways, fashion - and appearance - was a tool in the royal courts. A weapon.

They were being escorted to the largest of the ballrooms in the palace. Vaná could already hear music and laughter drift through the walls. Everywhere seemed to be richly embellished in gold, jewellery and silks. Each wall was decorated with incredible artwork, mirrors and tapestries which Vaná would have loved to appreciate in closer detail. However, they had a job to perform - a Warden to save.

The thought prompted Vaná to turn away from the mirror and stand at the huge doors where heavily attired servants were bowing and waiting for their approach. Her expression was schooled into a composed look of serenity but her stormy eyes were burning with determination. 

“Are you prepared?” 

@vanariel​

“If I recall correctly I pulled him aside asking him to explain why I needed to study so much history despite my abilities, you know how he hated that.” Ashden rolled his eyes at the memory. He had always despised wasting time reading old books which no one cared for anymore. They described priests that were clinging to students to avoid being forgotten; but he could be out there helping people or learning more useful ways to harness the light. It all seemed a tad pointless. “And then all you needed to do was grab his bathrobe that was hanging over his stool while he lectured me. I definitely had the harder job.” He continued. 

 He had missed the antics he would get up to with his friends back at The Citadel. It was a pleasant moment in a world of chaos to reminisce. “I don’t know how we got away with it, I don’t remember Ade ever returning it!” Ashden flashed a cheeky grin at his darker friend before taking a sip of his wine.

( @priestoftheshadows )

Vaná looked between the two with twinkling, knowing eyes. Ade and Ash had truly been a formidable duo in the Citadel. Their antics had been legendary among the other students, especially the younger ones, and it had given them a celebrity status for their cunning troublemaking. Luckily, they were both very intelligent and were rarely caught during such acts. If they ever were, Vaná was always there to smooth the disagreements and save them from any truly awful punishments. She remembered how she would affectionally roll her eyes at the two on a regular basis. 

“The High Father was my mentor,” she shook her head in bewilderment and turned to Ade with a single, raised eyebrow, “and you never returned his bathrobe? How did he escape the bathing area without it!?”

She burst into rich laughter, which was rare to hear nowadays, and leant forward to stare at her two dear friends with an amused expression glowing across her features. “Although, I may not want to know the next part of the tale. How can I face the High Father again if I know he had been running about the Citadel with no robe on!? What an embarrassing sight!”

The whole town, all of his worried and nerves and thoughts seemed to melt away when his eyes saw the face he most wanted to see in the crowd of smiling faces. Vaná, his Vaná rushing towards him with long, desperate strides and Gonzalo moved forward to meet her there, arms open wide so she would fit perfectly in his embrace. By the Light, how he had missed her. Of all the things Gonzalo had expected to find in the Wardens - adventure, purpose, troubles, friendship - love was never one of them but here he stood, breathless just as the sight of the woman he had grown to love in the past few months. 

It was strange, he thought, how someone could become so important in such a short period of time but Vaná was it for him. He knew when his arms wrapped around her, holding her tight against his chest as he breathed her in that this right here was all he wanted. This was exactly what he had been missing for so many months. Their duty would always come first, he knew that, and they both shared and respected that but somehow, having Vaná in his arms, it felt like they would find a way to work it out. 

“Of course,” he whispered, kissing the top of her head affectionately. “I promised you I’d always return to you if you needed me, Vaná. I don’t break my promises,” Gonzalo grinned down at her, taking a step back to cradle her face between his hands so he could meet her eyes properly, full of love and wonder. “I missed you so much.”

Colours seemed to flare into life when Gonzalo was there. The faces and scenery around them blurred into the background, and all of Vaná’s focus was on the man in front of her. As he cradled her face between his warm, calloused hands, she leant into his touch and delighted in how they felt exactly the same as before. For a brief moment, she was allowed to drop that trained mask of serenity. She always tried to uphold confidence among the Wardens but now, she could allow her true feelings to swirl in her grey, stormy eyes. Love; joy and relief - these emotions flooded her inside, threatening to burst free in a vulnerable way but a normal vulnerability which she only desired Lalo to see.

“I missed you too,” she whispered; her breath gently tickling the hand which she was leaning into, “and you do keep all of your promises. How did Blademaster Dorn allow you to leave? I would not have let you go so easily if I were in his shoes but I assume I will expect a firm letter soon that will instruct me to keep you safe.” Her tone, which had been so serious and stern since his departure, now lightened into the light, dry banter they always seemed to share with one and another. She missed how his influence made her feel comfortable.

It was only then that Vaná realised the public display they were giving. Crowds of people were giving the couple a respectable difference but they watched the rare event with bright, curious eyes and plenty of joyful whispers. Ever since Springtime, the town had been eager to see how the two Wardens’ would continue their relationship. 

Vaná awkwardly cleared her throat but directed an amused smirk at the man in front of her. “Come, we have much to discuss.” She looped her arm around his own and beamed a sudden grin at him as they walked towards the large, central tent which was Vaná’s new makeshift headquarters. Then her face sobered when reality caught up to her and she remembered why Lalo was back - Arden. “And we do not have a lot of time before we must act.”

“... you boys stole the High Father’s bathrobe!?”

They were seated in what remained of the Two Bucks Inn. Thankfully, the repairs had saved the majority of the building so that it could still be used as the town’s main tavern. It had firm walls, new furniture and a warm fire. It almost felt the same as before.

Vaná was leant forward in her seat with a look of pure utter shock on her features. She snapped her mouth shut and looked between her two friends with wide, grey eyes.

“Surely you cannot be serious? When did you two rebels manage to do that and how in the Light did you get away with such behaviour?” 

Miwor Town looked so different from the last time Gonzalo had seen the beautiful little town, any yet everything was still the same. Two months. It has been two months since he was called by Blademaster Dorn on some urgent business with the Guild and he had left the Wardens to attend to his duties. It was painful, leaving a group that was rapidly becoming a family - like the Guild was - but he knew his place and his responsibilties, and those things would always come first. 

Gonzalo stood in the middle of the town’s square, happy faces greeting him, excited for his return but he simply looked around, taking in how so many still worked on roofs and walls to reconstruct what was teared down months ago. He remembered the smell of burned flesh, the screams of pain and fear and how little he had been able to do after it. Everything seemed to be back to normal now, everything was the same as before, and yet it was all so different. 

Snapping out of his thoughts, he started scanning the crowded streets for a familiar face, or maybe even for new ones. He was curious about what else had changed in the last few months he had been away. 

It had been only months since Gonzalo left the Wardens to answer the Blademaster’s summons but to Vanáriel, that short period had felt like a year. Each day since had seemed dull and lengthy without Gonzalo’s beaming smile to lighten the atmosphere. Vaná remembered how they had ventured into the Skeleton King’s lair and had overcome giant spiders, undead sorceries and ancient traps to defeat the King of the Dead. Gonzalo had a unique gift where he always managed to smile or joke through the toughest of times, and it always sparked an equally dry and witty response from Vaná. There was something about his presence which made her feel safe, as if they were grounded to the hard earth below, and no storm could ever uproot them. Ever since he had left, she had desperately missed his comforting presence.

And then her thoughts remembered their kiss. Surrounded by Springtime’s laughter and music, they had danced to the beat’s rhythm and had been briefly able to escape their duties to only focus on eachoher. She still remembered how his calloused but gentle hands felt in her own grip and how he had tasted on the edge of her lips-

“Lady Leader,” a voice interrupted Vaná’s thoughts and she lifted her head in shock to stare at the guard. He stood at the entrance of her tent - her makeshift headquarters - and bowed his head. “Warden Gonzalo has returned.”

That short and simple sentence was enough to make Vaná’s heart leap into her throat. Adrenaline surged through her muscles like a wave of fire and within a blink of an eye, she was out of her seat and running. The guard shot the passing priestess a flabbergasted expression before quickly opening the tent’s flaps for her to rush through.

A thousand thoughts chased her as she charged through the village. Her white, flowing robes were divided into a riding dress and were ideal for running in - she was grateful for that, at least - but her heavy, desperate footfalls still prompted the road’s mud to drench her skirts. She did not care. Her entire focus was on the man in front of her. He still looked the same; curious, resolute, handsome and warm like his beloved homeland.

A throng of people gasped as Vaná jostled through the town’s crowds and she leapt at him. Arms around his neck, she was half tempted to punch his chest in frustration that he had been away for so long but she also wanted to pull him downwards into her embrace. In the end, she crashed her weight against his hard frame and delighted in how comfortable she felt at that very moment. The world had returned to normality. Gonzalo - no, her Lalo - was home. 

Dearest child,

                I cannot express how relieved Salvin and I were to hear that you had survived the terrible Rift above Miwor Town. It was a tragedy which shook the heart of the Citadel and unfortunately, further proof that your foredream was indeed a truthful vision of the destruction to come. Do not blame yourself for not being able to convince the High King of these truths. It is our failing because our counsel failed to influence him.

               However, the main reason I am writing to you is a matter of utmost importance. The High King has been growing erratic recently – this you know of as I have described his wild fits and rages in our previous letters – but it is becoming increasingly noticeable for the nobility to see. He recently captured one of your Wardens, a young warrior named Arden, and I urge you to hasten towards Highwing to secure his release. The High King refuses to listen to my pleas for mercy and has forbidden me from nearing the dungeons in case I attempt to free him. The High King’s rages are truly frightening and I worry for the boy’s safety.

               Please be aware that the High King believes the Wardens – and more importantly, you – are trying to usurp the throne by turning Arden into a ‘pretender’ for the throne. After the Rift shocked Miwor Town, I know you were forced to accept the people’s wishes in choosing to distance themselves from the throne but it could potentially turn your faction into rebels. The kingdoms are already on the verge of civil war because of the northern territories. We cannot create a divide in the south too.

               In addition to this monumental task, Salvin and I have agreed to bestow you with my ring - Renlyon. It has always been wielded by the High Mother but I believe you will employ its uses better than I ever could. It has been shaped into the graceful shape of a phoenix; our Holy Light’s guardian and I hope it will bring you victory in the dark days ahead.

               May the Light always grace your path, child.

               Mae tannos sâ ly est vonará.

 High Mother of the Holy Light Carlenná

---

Vanáriel finished reading the letter and rested her chin against her hand thoughtfully. She stared at the elegantly scrawled words for several long moments before tilting the edge of the curled paper towards a candle. The candle’s flame suddenly burst into life and eagerly crawled across the crinkling sheet until nothing was left but the charred remains of the High Mother’s plea.

The glowing embers cast stark, contrasting shadows across Vaná’s face. Her expression was a troubled one and her brow furrowed in thought. As several more moments passed, she steeled herself for the hard task ahead and bored hard, determined eyes at the second letter on her desk. It was an invite to Highwing from the High King himself. Was it a trap? Most likely. The High King wanted to bait the Wardens into the capital and catch them red-handed so that he could label the faction as rebels.

It was dangerous but Vaná was one of the few who knew of Arden’s identity and the Wardens needed him alive. It was time to make use of the Wardens’ connections. In their ranks, they had influential Mages of the Star Tower – some even related to the Archmages – as well as powerful members of the Arms Guild, the Dark Union and the North’s most sacred Rangers.

Cairius crossed his arms as the woman across from him looked him over.  She looked like a leader, sitting straight and tall in her seat, maps and scrolls strewn about the desk in front of her.  There was something about her that seemed familiar, as if he’d seen her before - long before - but he couldn’t remember exactly where.  It did seem, however, that she recognized him as well. 

“My name is Cairius, my lady.  The former Right Hand of the High King.”  Former.  His lips drew together in a thin line at the thought - it’d been years since he’d last set foot in Highwing, and though it was for good reason, he couldn’t help but remain bitter.  He’d had his own life in the capital, but… country came before family in his line of work.  The world, even.  

“I come bearing information regarding one of your Wardens.  Information that I believe will greatly affect your campaign against the Rifting.”

A thousand thoughts raced through Vaná’s mind when Cairius confirmed his identity. Time seemed to stop for the briefest of moments and the air in the tent thickened with tension. So, Vaná’s gamble about that particular Warden had been right after all. At least one of the careful plans she had created for the Wardens was paying off. There were many others in a web of necessary schemes which she hoped would follow suit too - for the greater good.

She pushed herself up from her seat and stared at the other with a knowing look. “I have met you before. Haronell was the previous Hand of Light and was my mentor before I became the Hand of the High Mother and High Father. He often visited you in a village. I inherited his journals because he wanted me to safeguard a particular boy who he said was in the charge of a man called Cairius but I did not have all of the necessary information at the time. The journals were incomplete.”

MOODBOARD NO.5 - PLAYING CHESS WITH THE KING