Chapter II
Karanhil was a beautiful city that sat on the edge of the mountains. The castle, where the ruling monarchs and the highest nobility of the high elves lived, overlooked waterfalls that ended in the Esari River. All of the buildings were almost stark white and changed color based upon the light reflected on them. There was a sense of luxury about Karanhil that was not to be found anywhere else on Alfheim. Murielle very rarely had reason to travel there, so it was wonderful to see it as a spectator as opposed to being there for a purpose. Their destination was the town square where the mark of the Bifrost was engraved upon the ground. Murielle walked arm and arm with her mother making sure that they were standing with those who were actually leaving and not with the spectators.
Murielle could feel her heart pounding in her chest as nerves assaulted her. She recognized many faces from school and once they were made aware of her presence their expression turned dark and they turned away from her. Murielle was used to this sort of treatment but she hated any sort of hostility that was directed at her mother. The only thing her mother had done was fall in love and if that was wrong, then she never wanted such a fate to befall her.
The square had been decorated in colors of blue and green. There were flowers everywhere and she could hear music being played, if the great loud sound coming from far to her right could be considered. Thycar’s music was soft and melodic…nothing like this cacophonic sound that assaulted her ears. Many of the elves who were being sent to Asgard gathered closely to the markings on the Bifrost, as if their only thought in life was to be the first to set foot on the Golden City. From her place next to her mother, she could see the men joking with each other and the girls fussed over each other’s gowns.
Murielle found it all to be quite ridiculous. The self-centeredness of the young elves was normal as this was the biggest celebrations of their lives. Once they returned from Asgard, their lives would truly begin. They would be given occupations and have lives that they would have to live. Well, everyone but Murielle. There was some advantage to being the outcast. She could live free from restraints and live how she pleased.
“Where’s the rest of your luggage?” The abrasive voice came to her left and there could only be one person it belonged to. “You honestly don’t expect to embarrass us all by wearing the same dress all week.”
Murielle turned to face her chief oppressor and placed the best smile she could upon her face. “Saida, I can see that time has certainly not made you any wiser if that is the only clever remark you can muster.”
Saida had been a beauty since the day she was born. Pale skin, silver hair, the brightest of eyes…she was the kind of elf that all thought of when they heard that elves rivaled the glory of the sun. Of course, like most, her beauty ran only skin deep. It was common knowledge that she was vain, self-centered, and did everything in her power to make Murielle’s life a living nightmare. That was a mission which only intensified after the horrid loss Saida suffered at graduation…at Murielle’s hand, obviously.
“You better not do anything to ruin this for me, you little half-blood. You’ll regret it.” Saida’s eyes were cold and filled with malice. How could a creature so ethereal be so demonic?
“If your day were to be ruined, Saida, it wouldn’t be Murielle’s fault. To find the one who is to blame, you need only look into a mirror.” The comment came from Araiel which filled Murielle with pride. Saida, now shocked beyond amazement, pushed past them and towards anyone who would listen to her self-centered comments.
“You’re going to be just fine, daughter.” Araiel wrapped an arm around her and gave her a gentle squeeze. “Just be yourself, and everything will be fine.”
“That’s a dangerous thing, Mother. You know my temper and I always say what I mean. I could insult the princes without meaning to.”
Araiel laughed. “I’d like to be there if you did. Both are probably very spoiled and could use a little forthright honesty.”
A sudden thought struck her. “Mother…are your parents here?”
A sad smile flashed across her mother’s face and then, just as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared. “My family have made it a point to situate themselves in a place where they can observe.” With her eyes she pointed to an overlook just above the fast congregation of people.
The young elf turned and saw a family of four looking down from a heavily decorated balcony. The ones Murielle could only consider as her grandparents had made eye contact with her first. Her grandfather had pure white hair, hard eyes, and such a firmly set mouth that she couldn’t help but wonder if he smiled at all. Her grandmother had plaited her blonde locks so that it fell just off her right shoulder, and wore a gown of the deepest blue trimmed in cream. Murielle could see that Araiel had gotten her beauty from her mother and her coloring from her father. There were two others standing with them whom she could only assume were her mother’s brother and sister, but she didn’t really care about them. It was the parents she chose to focus on. The two that had forced her mother out of the High Countree, so very great with child, and to make the long desolate journey to Thyscar. She wanted to call out to them. To thank them for sending her mother away so that the two of them could be happy and free with their lives.
But she chose to acknowledge their eyes on her with indifference. She simply shrugged and turned away from them, taking hold of her mother’s arm so that they could join the rest of the elves up front. The sun was near reaching its highest point in the sky and clouds were already forming. It was only a matter of time now.
King Ayred and his wife, the Queen Tyrtha, made their way to a stage which overlooked them all. They would address them and the Bifrost would open and the festivities would begin. Murielle had never seen such beautiful creatures as the King and Queen. They wore striking robes of red streaked decorated with a thread so jewel-like in appearance, Murielle couldn’t help but wonder if it really was gold. It was these people and many like them who had banished and outcasted so many to find shelter and love in the Low Countree. While beautiful of face….she was struck anew at how many harbored dark hearts.
“Our dearest children,” King Ayred called to them. The crowd became silence and the air stilled. “Today you have reached your twenty-fifth year and are to now visit the great realm of Asgard. There, gods and goddesses shall drink to your health and your names shall be added to the list of those who have gone before you. Today is a time of celebration and a time of revelry. We encourage you to learn from those you meet and prepare yourselves for the rest of your lives. Now, say goodbye to your families and come stand on the markings so that you may begin your journey.”
“Goodbye, my darling. Have fun, but come back.” Araiel embraced her daughter a final time and Murielle made her way to the center of the square. The wind began to pick up, and the sky grew darker. The elves around her seemed to grow frightened by the sudden change, but Murielle simply smiled. It felt like a storm was arriving, bringing with it the cleansing power of rain. There was a great noise and a bright light encased them. It sounded like thunder and looked like lightning and the ground almost seemed to break beneath their feet. A light of a million colors blinded her, and there was a sharp pull on her body. She could hear the screams and cries of the others around her, for it was so strange for all of them. Murielle couldn’t help but feel the wonder around her as the colors surrounded them and guided them to their destination.
All too soon, her feet met solid ground, and their journey was over. It took her a minute to reorient herself, for traveling by the Bifrost made her feel a little queasy and she was glad she’d eaten breakfast hours ago. Fortunately, everyone else was in the same state for she knew someone would’ve pointed out how “weak” she was because she looked so pale. When she’d regained her bearings and felt she could see straight, Murielle took a moment to look around the room. It was in the shape of a sphere, it seemed, and made entirely of gold. Behind them, the Bifrost raged, the colors bright and moving fast.
“Welcome, elves, to Asgard.” A voice echoed through the spherical chamber. They all turned to face the one who was known to all as Heimdall, guard of the Bifrost Bridge. His skin was dark which contrasted starkly with the golden armor he wore. He lifted a sword from a waist high column, an effect which caused the Bifrost to be closed.
Murielle gazed at the beauty of the night sky that had appeared now that the Bifrost was gone, instantly making the comparison in her mind to the sky’s beauty in Thyscar. The lights of what the Midgardians called The Rainbow Bridge seemed to now insert themselves into the floor they stood upon. The lights moved forward leading them towards the palace, the colors overlapping each other reminding Murielle of how effortlessly magic moved when left unhindered. A quick glance ahead showed her that it was quite a distance to the palace and there appeared to be no carriages to take them. A walk through the city would be a wonderful start to Murielle’s visit here.
“Our apologies if your journey was unpleasant. The first time through can be a little unsettling.” Heimdall walked closer towards them but did not descend the steps to put himself on their level. “There are Asgardian soldiers who will escort you to the palace where you will be presented to the Allfather and Allmother and to their children.”
There were excited whispers from the girls about seeing the princes and the boys straightened themselves at the prospect of meeting the strongest man in all the realms. Nothing else was said, however, as the soldiers appeared before them and turned for them all to follow. She followed, unceremoniously jostled to the back of the group. She wanted to push through to the front, but decided against it. Now was not the time for a spectacle.
The walk across the bridge was long, but beautiful. It led them straight to the castle and, upon closer examination, seemed to change color with each footfall. Murielle looked down and saw that each time she took a step the bridge would appear slightly golden around her feet. If the magic that seemed to envelop the city was not evident already, it was made manifest in the structures that seemed to float high above them, and she could almost breathe it in the air.
The large span of water roared beneath them, a large water fall lying just up ahead that descended into the dark abyss of the realm. As they drew closer to the gates, she could see large ships and small fishing boats. She could hear voices shouting at each other but they were too far away to be discernable. As they passed through the golden gates, Murielle wished they’d tarry just a little longer for never had she seen anything so beautiful. They’d left Alfheim at high noon but it seemed as if the day were almost beginning here on Asgard. The sun had just fully risen and its rays cast everything in a soft orange glow, making the golden city shine.
“What is your name?” A voice asked to her right.
Murielle jumped, not realizing that someone had come to stand so close to her. She turned to face the speaker and discovered it to be a palace guard. She was confused as she had distinctly remembered not seeing a guard positioned at the back of their assembly.
“Ir abelas,” she apologized. “I did not see you there.”
The guard bowed his head to her, a crease forming between his brows. “What did you just say?”
Murielle cocked her head to the side before understanding dawned. “Ir abelas,” she repeated. “It means ‘I’m sorry.’ I forget that I’m not on Alfheim and shall have to use the
Common tongue now. My name is Murielle Orloth. I hail from Thyscar, the capitol of the Low Countree.”
“And how, pray tell, does a half-elf come to join this great group of people?”
Murielle felt her ire rise. If she was to expect such questions before she had even reached the palace she was in for a very long week. “I have a very loving mother,” she responded curtly, before returning her attention to her surroundings.
They were nearing the city and music began to play; a loud fanfare that grated on Murielle’s nerves. There were flowers everywhere, and many had gathered in the streets to see them. The vendors from several shops waved and called out to them, and she wished that would have the opportunity to visit them all. Her mother hadn’t told her much of what her week would be like. Just that there would be a chance for her to let everyone see just how very powerful she was.
“What do you think of our city?” The guard asked, following in step beside her.
“The people seem very happy,” she replied, waving to a vendor who had spotted her. “I hope an opportunity will present itself so that I may have a chance to visit with them. You can learn a lot about a ruling entity based upon what their citizens have to say about them. I only have second-sight opinions and even they aren’t worth repeating.”
The guard said nothing to her and Murielle had turned to ask him his name, since he had conveniently forgotten to tell her. She was arrested by a pair of dark green eyes and said nothing. In fact, it was a conversation in front of her that forced her attention away from the man walking next to her.
“I wonder what they’d think if they realized a half-elf walked amongst us,” Cheyrth whispered off to her right. He was one of Saida’s close companions and he as well as Lhoris, who Cheryth was speaking with, often fought over their leader’s affections.
“I’ve read that Midgardians burn those that they feel are unnatural,” Lhoris replied. “I wonder if…”
But he was never to finish his sentence. Murielle tried as well as she could but to no avail. A giggle escaped her, her hand instantly coming to her lips.
Lhoris stopped and turned to look at her. “Something funny Orloth?”
She quickly schooled her features but there was no denying the laughter in her eyes. “Just you reading a book. The idea was so strange and so foreign that I couldn’t help but laugh.”
Lhoris’s dark brown eyes stared down at her, but Murielle stood her ground. “You’ll get what’s coming to you half-breed.”
“And if it ever came by your hand I’d take your threat far more seriously. Now, if you don’t mind, you’re causing a scene.”
Murielle was partly right, for a handful of their party noticed that the two of them had stopped in the middle of the road. Not giving him a chance to pass her, she pushed passed him and continued on towards the palace. Lhoris was filled with empty threats at least in the public eye. On the field, he was dangerous. While elves are not muscular by nature, they’re agile and quick. Lhoris was the epitome of that. She had to be careful or she would never make it to the Provings.
It was then that she realized that she had been speaking to the guard and she turned to face him. But she found that he was no longer there. Blinking in confusion, Murielle looked around and took a glance further into the Asgardians milling about behind her. But he was nowhere to be found.