Chapter 9
Kavalah
Later that day, Echo entered the room where she and her siblings studied with Dorian every day. She wasn’t surprised to see only Mari sitting at one of the pine tables, her face bent over an open scroll. Brecker wasn’t coming.
Dorian gave her a soft, understanding look, and then motioned for her to sit. He didn’t speak, but folded his hands in front of him and waited. Echo didn’t hesitate to ask the burning question. “Who were the Kavalah?”
Mari’s head shot up, as if she just realized Echo was there. She scowled and asked, “Where’s Brecker?” She didn’t seem to notice Echo’s new weapons.
“I don’t know,” Echo said, still looking expectantly at Dorian. Mari turned her face to the elf, too. Before Dorian could answer the first question, the second flew out of her mouth. “Why didn’t you tell us about them before?” She suddenly felt irritated with the elf, as if he’d purposely kept an important secret from them for his own amusement.
Dorian spoke evenly as he answered, “The Kavalah were warriors of the sky. It was important to wait until this very moment to tell you about them.” His eyes remained steady and unblinking as he studied Echo, waiting for her reaction.
“Why? What’s so important about waiting until now to tell us?”
Dorian smiled and said, “Because now, you asked.” He looked at Echo with raised brows and a lop-sided grin. Echo struggled to keep her composure. She didn’t find his answer amusing.
When Echo remained moodily silent, Dorian continued to explain, “The Kavalah, as I said, were warriors from the sky. They rode winged creatures and wielded crystal swords that utilized light as a weapon.”
Echo forgot her irritation as her imagination raced with images of warriors astride mighty dragons, shooting light from the ends of their crystal swords. “So, they were dragon riders?” she asked.
“We, meaning the elves and certain other ancient races, believe not. We believe they rode winged horses.”
Mari gasped as Echo’s heart raced. Her imagination could barely comprehend such a beautiful image.
“Winged horses?” Mari asked, her eyes shining. Then her brows came together slightly. “I’ve never read anything anywhere about Kavalah or winged horses. Surely, if they really existed, they would’ve been documented.”
Dorian smiled at her, causing her cheeks to flush. Echo wondered how long it would be before her sister realized that Dorian was at least a hundred years older than she.
The elf turned away and, reaching toward the topmost shelf of the pine scroll case, pulled two scrolls that Echo had never noticed before. He placed them on the table and carefully opened them with his long, gentle fingers. The parchment was brittle with age and crackled in protest against being ignored for so long. Mari immediately stood, leaning over strange words that seemed to whisper secrets long forgotten. She scowled and asked, “Why can’t I read this? These symbols aren’t the same as the elvish writing you taught us.”
“They are of the ancient tongue, written almost three thousand years ago. I will tell you their story,” Dorian said. He sat down between the girls, allowing them to stare at the symbols as he spoke. Echo gave a small gasp as she watched the letters literally dance on the page, caressed by Dorian’s voice. They told their age-old story…
“The Kavalah, noble warriors of the sky, astride sons and daughters of wind and sun, strove to end the war that had clamored below them for nearly ten moon cycles. Azura, their queen, cried great tears over the blood shed on the land she loved. She sent her elite, which were great in number, to end the violence that tore at her heart, causing it to bleed for peace.
“The valiant warriors, graceful, beautiful, and powerful, descended on the enemy with little compassion. But the enemy was strong. Yea, stronger than Azura had anticipated. The shadows overwhelmed them, nearly destroying their number.”
Echo and Mari sat at the edges of their tree-stumps, their minds swallowed up in the images of the valiant warriors falling hopelessly to the shadows.
Dorian continued, “With great mourning for the loss of her elite, Azura’s rage surfaced against the shadows in the land. She called for her greatest warrior, Dylarian. They went forth as one and as the sun was raised that fateful morn, Dylarian’s light shown brightly, cutting the shadows like blades of grass before them. The peoples of Shae Vale rejoiced, finally seeing their victory after struggling so long a winter in battle.
“But, alas, their celebration was premature. One shadow was left standing. One doon, more powerful than any other, challenged her majesty. Azura and Dylarian battled the doon, whose name was Belzac, over the land of the star and crescent moon. In one fateful moment, Dylarian’s light burst forth, swallowing them, all three, into oblivion. The queen and her warrior were lost for the saving of all others.”
Dorian slowly settled back, his expression somber. Echo and Mari were silent, their minds and hearts swarming with the images of the warrior queen and her faithful falling to the shadows. Finally, Echo asked, “What happened to them? Azura and Dylarian?”
“It remains unknown, though most believe that they returned to the sky as spirits, riding forever in the wind and the clouds.”
“What of the rest of the Kavalah?” Mari asked. “Were there none left to carry on, to give tribute to their queen?”
“We believe this scroll tells a bit of that history, though most of it is now too faded to read,” Dorian said as he opened the second scroll. It was more reluctant to uncurl than the first, and its pages were terribly faded. “From what we have been able to interpret, many Kavalah and their horses, which were named Aleniah, survived the war. But no one seems to know what happened to them. Even secret keepers, like the woodland fae, know little of that final battle. Its secrets have been lost in the ravages of time.” Even though Echo had never seen one, woodland fae had always fascinated her. They could become one with the trees and kept the secrets of Shae Vale from centuries past to the present.
The girls were both thoughtful, gazing at the old parchment, hoping it would find a voice of its own and fill in the missing pieces of the three thousand year old mystery.
Then, Echo asked again, “So, why tell us now? Does this have to do with rumors of Belzac returning?”
Mari started, then looked fearfully at Dorian. “The doon from the story? He’s back? But how?”
Dorian remained calm, though Echo guessed she knew something that she shouldn’t. He spoke reassuringly, “Our seers have caught visions of a powerful doon rising from the past. We cannot be certain that doon is Belzac. Any doon is a threat, and precautions will be made in the event that one does resurface here.”
Echo felt no comfort from Dorian’s assurances. If light-wielding warriors from the sky couldn’t defeat Belzac, how would they, who had no such weapons or skills, defeat any doon?
“Is it true that a doon’s handshake can enslave a person? I mean, I read that a doon can do that, and if that person disobeys, they’ll suffer terrible pain and dark visions.” Mari’s face was pale as the words rushed from her mouth. Echo turned to Dorian, horrified at what her sister had said.
“Unfortunately, it is true. It is wise to keep farther than arm’s length away from a doon,” Dorian said. Echo gulped. She wouldn’t have any problem keeping several thousand miles from a doon!
“And no one has any idea what happened to the warriors of the sky?” Mari asked.
“As I said before, their story is unclear. Though, we do have notions…” Dorian’s sentence trailed off and he looked at Echo intently. Thinking he was expecting her to offer an idea on the subject, she shrugged.
“What kind of notions? What do you mean?” she asked.
Dorian stared at her until she began to feel uncomfortable, he then looked at Mari until her cheeks reddened under his gaze. Finally, he sighed and then said, “I believe the answers to your questions, and mine, will come in due course.”
He swiftly sn
atched the scrolls form the table and placed them back on the shelf. They finished their lessons without mentioning the Kavalah again.
Mari stayed in the village after lessons to deliver the scrolls their mother had finished. Echo found herself walking home alone with her romantic thoughts. She tried to imagine the queen Azura. She must’ve been breath-taking! She imagined a queen astride a gleaming, white, winged horse. And her handsome, faithful warrior at her side, ready to die for his queen. The image of the man from her dream flashed in her mind as she thought of the warrior, Dylarian. She couldn’t help the smile that crept across her lips.
Echo’s soft leather boots made no sound as she walked, so she started when she heard a distinct noise behind her. She stopped abruptly. The sound stopped a fraction of a second later. Her musings vanished instantly, replaced by frightening thoughts of Belzac the doon and his army of shadow dwellers. Echo forced herself to breath slowly and quietly, tuning every sense to her surroundings. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled and she knew in one horrific moment that she was being watched.