Chapter 426: Chapter 423: A Giant’s Shadow

Chapter 423: A Giant’s Shadow

 

  The long walk to the Silver Keep castle was filled with the cheering cries of the crowds that lined the streets. Stryg had never seen so many goblins in one place before. He thought there were a lot of goblins in the city the first time he had arrived, but now that felt small. It reminded him of the crowds in Hollow Shade during the Festival of the Gods.

  He marveled at the dozens of banners held high above the crowds, waving in the wind. Then he heard the voices cheering his mother’s name and all sense of marvel and wonderment were snuffed out. A painful pit formed in the bottom of his stomach. He stared at his mother’s back as she walked with her cloak over her head.

  The throng of goblins couldn’t see her face, yet they knew her. They actually knew her. For over twenty years he thought he had known her too. How foolish of him to presume.

  The crowds cheered her name, they called her by titles he had only heard of recently. The Blooded. The Favored of the Moon. Ebon Lady Aurelia.

  Stryg froze at the final title. It wasn’t possible. Yet the lack of surprise on Tauri and Plum’s faces told him otherwise. In fact, their uncomfortable expressions and refusal to meet his gaze made it seem as if they were all too familiar with the title.

  He suddenly remembered Tauri’s words last night when he had awoken from his coma. When he had asked how they had escaped Grimstone Mountain.

  First Mother took care of it.

  It suddenly all made sense. His magical talents, his friends’ refusal to elaborate on the events of Grimstone, and how First Mother had insisted they stay within the confines of the Celestial Shrine during their stay in the city. They had known. They had all known. 

  Stryg had never felt such a fool. The voices of the crowds faded away as he tried his best to hold himself together. He kept his head down and focused on taking one step at a time.

  He didn’t know how much time had passed but he found himself at the gates of the Silver Keep. Over twenty guards, each riding a wolf, rushed out as the gates opened and ushered the Blood Fang retinue into the castle while pushing the crowds of onlookers aside.

  As soon as the gates closed behind them, Jahn laughed heartily. “I can’t believe it! Half the tribes must have been out there! Talk about a hero’s welcome.” 

  “You think this is funny?” Aurelia hissed.

  Jahn blanched and chuckled awkwardly, “I mean, a little.”

  Aurelia glared at him, “You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?”

  “Auri!” Virella ran over and embraced her tightly.

  Aurelia stiffened at the touch. “Silver Mother, I greet you—”

  “Oh, shut up with the etiquette and hug me already, you cold-hearted witch.”

  Aurelia cracked a small smile and embraced her best friend.

  “I missed you,” Virella mumbled.

  “I’ve only been gone for a few days,” Aurelia said dryly.

  “And you still owe me thousands of hugs for missing the last decade.”

  “Ahem,” Arden cleared his throat. “We are short on time.”

  Virella pulled back from Aurelia and glared at the Sylvan Guardian. “Really? Short on time? The tribunal dares to break tradition and bring Aurelia and her tribe here without first allowing them to pay their respects to our goddess at the temple and now you have the gall to tell me I can’t even give her a hug!?”

  “They will be able to pay their respects as soon as the Lunar Elects are finished speaking with them,” Arden said without flinching.

  “Oh, I assure you they will. I will not allow the tribunal to abuse their powers any more than they already have,” Virella snapped at him.

  “As you wish, Silver Mother,” Arden said calmly. “Now if you please, the Lunar Elects are waiting.”

  “Give them a moment to catch their breath at least. They’ve only just arrived—”

  Aurelia placed her hand over her friend’s shoulder, “It’s fine, Virella. I am prepared to speak with the tribunal.”

  “Auri…” Virella’s voice faltered.

  “Follow me, Favored of the Moon,” Arden said.

 

~~~

 

  The tribunal chamber was the same as the last time Stryg had been. The room was in a triangle shape, with the last wall being entirely missing, like a giant window. Sigils lined the open-air design, preventing the cold winds from entering the chamber. The Midnight Mirror, a sacred terrace with polished floors covered in a thin layer of water, extended right outside the chamber’s open wall.

  Tall pillars lined the marble chamber walls and in the corner hung a balcony with no guardrails and three stone thrones that overlooked the city and the Midnight Mirror below. The sun had fallen below the horizon and the moon’s light reflected off the terrace’s shallow water, staying true to the Midnight Mirror’s name.

  The entire tribunal chamber was just as intimidating and awe-inspiring as before. All was the same, except now over a hundred goblins lined the walls of the chamber. Around a third of them were women wearing black wreaths over their brows, the symbol of a First Mother. Others wore distinct colorful cloaks and bracelets and necklaces of precious metals.

  Stryg looked around the faces in the room and suddenly felt very small. These were the chieftains, shamans, and First Mothers of the Sylvan tribes, and they were all looking expectantly at Stryg and his tribe.

  The chimes hanging above the chamber suddenly rang with an eerie chill. Every single face in the room turned and looked up at the thrones. A door directly behind the balcony opened wide and three familiar goblins strode in.

  “Shaman-Elect, Lumi, daughter of the Frost Whisper tribe, stands as the Eye of The Watcher,” she said in an icy tone.

  The Shaman-Elect appeared as regal as ever. Her deep blue robes were made of finely interwoven clothes. Though she was still in her prime, her hair had gone mostly grey. The gilded strings interwoven into her hair were gone and her hair was now tied in a simple braid. Her yellow eyes had dark bags underneath them. It seemed as if she had hardly gotten any sleep in the last few days.

  “Warrior-Elect, Lykos, son of the Storm Howler tribe, stands as the Hand of The Watcher,” he said as he walked to his stone-carved chair with a heavy gait. 

  Unlike the last time, the dire goblin was not wearing heavy armor and opted for a simple black tunic and pants instead. Though he still wore his leopard pelt cloak over his shoulders.

  Sabina strolled over to the center throne with the same relaxed gait as always. Unlike Lumi, she wore no jewelry and her dark hair was loose and cascaded over her white silken robes. 

  She stood in front of her throne and placed her hand over her heart. “Mother-Elect, Sabina, daughter of the Elder Bloom tribe, stands as the Voice of The Watcher.” She raised her arms towards the moon and spoke with a loud reverent voice. “Let the tribunal of The Watcher act for the sake and honor of her name as she watches over us all.” 

  The Mother-Elect sat on her throne and the other two mirrored her action.

  Sabina glanced down towards Aurelia and waved her forward. “I declare this meeting of the Lunar Elect convened. Aurelia, First Mother of the Blood Fang tribe, the last we saw each other the tribunal gave you the task of re-establishing contact with the frost trolls of Grimstone and our ore trade with them, is that not so?”

  “It is,” Aurelia nodded respectfully.

  “Were you successful in your endeavor?”

  “We were, Mother-Elect.”

  “Why do you bring a troll child prisoner into our presence? And why are that orc and drow not chained as well? This is entirely unprecedented,” Lumi interrupted. 

  Aurelia cursed silently, then spoke up, “The orc and drow are friends with my tribe, you need not more than that.”

  The crowd of onlookers broke out into hushed whispers of confusion and scandalous looks. Tauri and Plum took a step back, worriedly. Stryg silently stepped in front of them, unashamed, and stood his ground.

  “Friends!? Did you just call an orc a friend?” Lumi asked incredulously.

  Aurelia met her gaze calmly, “I did. Their relationship with my tribe is a personal matter of the Blood Fang. With all due respect, it has nothing to do with you or this tribunal.”

  “You dare bring an orc into our chamber and think you have the right to say it has nothing to do with us?” Lumi asked.

  “I agree, this is unacceptable,” Lykos nodded with a frown.

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  “The Guardian of the Sylvan gave those two women his Lunar Crescents,” Sabina pointed at the silver crescent brooches on Tauri and Plum’s cloaks. “If Arden finds them acceptable, then I shall accept his judgment. Or do you, Lumi, wish to question your own chieftain’s honor?”

  Arden glanced up at Lumi patiently, his face expressionless.

  Lumi bit her lip and shook her head, “No, I trust my chieftain’s words.” 

  “Very well, then we shall continue,” Sabina said. “Aurelia, where is the Troll Slayer? I do not see him with your group.”

  Aurelia’s expression turned grim. “Emissary Otley fell in battle.”

  “In battle? You were there to make peace, not war!” Lumi said angrily.

  Aurelia did not rise to her provocation and continued with a steady voice, “While we arrived with peaceful intentions, the frost troll king Alok ambushed us and lured dozens of skolguls to our location. Many of our hunters died. If it were not for Otley our casualties would have been far greater. He saved many of my people and protected them against the skolguls until his last breath. He died a warrior's death.” 

  Aurelia glanced at the stunned Iron Spine chieftain in the crowd and bowed her head, “The Iron Spine tribe should be proud of their son. I know I will forever be.”

  The chieftain’s face was a mixture of anger, shock, and grief, but he nodded with tears in his eyes and made a fist over his heart. “Otley will be remembered!” he roared. “Tonight my people shall feast and tell stories in his name until the moon falls and the sun rises. And tomorrow we shall ride to Grimstone and we shall show them that the Iron Spine remembers!”

  The goblin chieftains and shamans in the chamber shouted in agreement.

  “Is this what you wanted, Aurelia? War?” Lumi frowned.

  “War shall not happen, Shaman-Elect,” Aurelia shook her head. She turned to the chieftains, “I understand your anger, my brothers and sisters, but you must stay your hand. The frost trolls of Grimstone have paid the price for their betrayal. Their king and heir lie dead as do the ones who ambushed us.”

  “What? What did you do!?” Lumi yelled. “You were there to mend alliances! We still need Grimstone’s ore!”

  “And you shall have it,” Aurelia said without missing a beat. “After avenging our fallen, I took Alok’s two remaining children as hostages and made a deal with the queen. For the next two years, Grimstone shall send the ore shipments at no expense to us. After which ordinary rates shall resume as usual and we shall send one of the queen’s children back to her. The two hostages will rotate each year, ensuring that the ore shipments continue and the threat of attack never happens. I hope this satisfies the tribunal’s request.”

  “It does not satisfy the Iron Spine!” the chieftain yelled angrily.

  “Silence! It is not your turn to speak!” Lykos snapped. “The Sylvan needs that ore! Our warriors need that ore! Do you wish to risk the survival of the Sylvan people for one man!? Do you think this is what Otley would have wanted?”

  The Iron Spine chieftain frowned, but quickly bowed his head in deference. “No, Warrior-Elect. Forgive me.”

  Lykos nodded in satisfaction then turned to Aurelia, “Well done, First Mother. The council is satisfied with your results.”

  “Where is the other child?” Lumi asked. “You said you captured two troll children, but I only see one.”

  “On our way up the mountain, one of my hunters took the other troll child to a secret location,” Aurelia said. “On my command, my hunter will bring the other child here, provided the tribunal recognizes the honor of the Blood Fang tribe and listens to our petition as promised.”

  “And if we don’t?” Lykos raised his eyebrow.

  “Well, I trust it won’t get to that,” Aurelia smiled politely.

  “You insolent girl— You dare!?” Lumi shouted and jumped to her feet. “You dare threaten this council!”

  Sabina spoke up, “Calm yourself, Lumi. Your lack of control is unbefitting of your station as the Eye of the Watcher.”

  Lumi stiffened at her words and sank back into her chair quietly.

  Sabina glanced at Aurelia and smiled wryly, “Your methods are— somewhat disrespectful, but this tribunal is not one of empty promises. Lunis fell because the people were betrayed by their Lunar Elects, we shall never follow the same path. Aurelia of Blood Fang, you have kept your part of the bargain and we shall do the same. From this day onward, the honor of the Blood Fang tribe has been restored in the eyes of this tribunal. All in favor?”

  “Aye,” Lykos raised his hand.

  Sabina glanced at the sulking Lumi with a cold gaze.

  The Shaman-Elect sighed in defeat and raised her hand. “Aye…”

  “Thank you, Lunar Elects,” Aurelia bowed her head.

  Stryg, Jahn, Srixa, and the other hunters sighed collectively in relief.

  “Now, as for your petition, speak, we shall listen, though we make no promise as to whether we shall grant it,” Sabina said.

  “Of course, Mother-Elect. Only, it is not I who will make this petition, it is my tribe’s shaman.” Aurelia looked back at Stryg and gestured him forward.

  Stryg swallowed hard and walked over to the center of the chamber and looked up at the balcony at the Lunar Elects.

  “You? This hybrid is your shaman, hm?” Lumi asked. “Were there no true goblins to serve as your tribe’s shaman?”

  “Is there a problem?” Aurelia asked calmly, though there was underlying anger in her tone.

  “No, not at all. It’s fitting really,” Lumi smiled. “Magic is the gift of the Mother Moon, so I suppose it should not come as a surprise that your tribe has few mageborns, and must resort to using hybrids.”

  “You are allowed to question my honor, but do not question that of my tribe’s or my shaman’s,” Aurelia glared at her.

  “Do not let her get to you, sister,” Jahn whispered under his breath, but Aurelia could not hear him.

  Lumi looked over to the other goblins in the room. “In the past year, thousands of wolves have appeared to the tribes of the Sylvan. Every single chieftain here can attest to that. And yet, somehow the Blood Fang tribe is the only one among all 63 tribes that has not been graced with even a single wolf. I think it is clear who the Mother Moon does not favor.”

  “And yet Aurelia is here to regain her tribe’s honor, as a warrior should. And she has succeeded, let the past be the past, Shaman-Elect,” Lykos said.

  Lumi glared at him, “Of course, you would say that. You have always favored Aurelia The Blooded, but she is not the one making this petition, is she?”

  “What are you saying?” Lykos asked.

  “I say this hybrid shaman should prove himself. Prove to this tribunal, and all 63 chieftains, Mothers, and shamans here that he is worthy to carry the mantle of Sylvan shaman. All in favor?” Lumi raised her hand.

  “Nay. This is unnecessary,” Sabina said, annoyed. 

  “Hm, perhaps it is not. I have never met a hybrid shaman. Let the Mother Moon decide if it is right or not.” Lykos raised his hand, “Aye.”

  Lumi grinned, “That is two to one. The vote passes. The Blood Fang shaman shall prove himself as per tradition on the Midnight Mirror.”

  Aurelia bowed her head in frustration and spoke through clenched teeth, “As the tribunal wishes.”

  Stryg glanced at the Midnight Mirror protruding from the mountainside, below the chamber, then at the crowd of onlookers, and finally up at the balcony. He hadn’t even said a word and they were all already judging him, ready to place him in a challenge of death. Only one person ever walked away from a spar in the Midnight Mirror.

  It felt as if he was on his first night challenge three years ago. Every eye on him, all waiting for him to fail. He was so nervous he could hear his heartbeat echoing in his ears. It felt all too familiar.

  He was suddenly reminded of the young hunter Ostroz. Like many other of his tribemates, Ostroz had died in the serpent’s cave three years ago, yet Stryg had never forgotten his final words of advice.

  Stryg, most of them already hate you. Look, you don’t have to think so hard about it. It’s simple, you can either be the runt of the tribe, or you can be a giant.

  Stryg glanced at his shadow that stretched across the room, far larger than himself. He couldn’t help but smile.

 

 

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