The Last Words of Olrilar (Part of The Sun Children series)

One of the last chapters from 'The Phoenix Prince' part of the Sun Children series. This is placed four hunded and twenty nine years before the time of 'The Fire Princess'.

Tattered flags of the Calamihan state were caught loosely in the winds above the darkening city of Mihanari. Its streets grew cold and dim, their lights going out one by one. The distant mountains died into the darkness under distant stars.

There was but one fire in the large tower of the palace still under construction. One bed was being lain in, all others were empty in this moment. Great ceilings of a lofty dome decorated with grand paintings and lit by gentle candles loomed above the bed.

An aged man lay still and cold. His golden days had passed. There were five in the room with him, four red armoured guards and his wife. The king and queen had become aged as their city was still young. The battles were over and peace had cleansed the lands.

            “Olrilar, my dear, do you want anything?” asked queen Munarih. The king lifted his shaking handy and held it against his saddened wife’s cheek,

            “My darling wife, my queen, I would only have you stay here with me until it has passed”

            “But that will not happen Olrilar, you are just at an ill phase, you will recover”

            “I do not mean to doubt your words, my love. But I cannot deny I feel the weakness and cold relinquishing my life. Tell me, is Olmir safe?” the king asked.

Munarih smiled with a tear rolling down her cheek,

            “Our son is fine, he is on his way here as we speak”

Olrilar closed his eyes and saw himself in his younger days, standing upon the white sands of Elina. There upon a day of warm skies a distant plume of smoke could be seen. Then as he looked down was the beached body of a princess. She was alive, but only just.

            “Olrilar, are you alright?” Munarih asked as she gazed at her ill husband reminiscing. He opened his eyes and smiled at her weakly. She stroked his warm forehead as he went to dream once more.

Far away from the beach he and his cavalry rode in haste, through grassy plains and over hills and through days of heat he carried the princess before him with the winds gently pushing into her brown hair. Over one more hill they rode unto the sight of miles of fields and the tail of a mountain range on the horizon. At its base stood the city which was being built. Its towers and walls were already high but its flags were not hoisted. The only banners which flew were held by the cavalry which now made the final run towards the city. The princess awoke and saw lands sweeping by silently beneath her, and then the sound of galloping came to her awakening ears. She felt the arms of her rescuer either side of her as they held the reins.

            “Lady Munarih, is there anything we can do?” asked the guards, who stared worriedly at their deteriorating king. His once amber hair was now white and his power over the candles above had almost diminished. The very power which had been sought by those who caused him to flee his homelands seventy two years ago. Olrilar was the sun child, the one born of the fourth age. His control over the fires had burned the lands where his enemies stood and from their corpses emerged peace. His victories ushered in a new era in what was now known as the country of Calamiha. It was new homeland of the last Nyshuhrians.

Olrilar felt his wife take his hand once more and he looked at her.

            “Munarih my dear” he whispered.

            “I remember when I came here many years ago, when my people were forced to leave our golden lands. We brought with us many riches and golds, and the greatest of all was my sword. Do you think you could get it for me?” he asked.

Munarih went over to the other side of the room where Olrilar’s aged armour stood on a statue and his sword was held between the two low hands. She unclipped it and brought it over to the king.

“There is a story about this sword, and I can not say if it is true or not. It began in the aftermath of the death of queen Elarnarsur when she was killed in the first age. She carried the second sun stone with her and many wondered what would become of the item. In the end her black cult of lords and knights adorning golden masks, took the stone into the darkness beneath Rhushar. There they smelted the stone into five golden items. One was the amulet you wear around your neck, my dear. Another was this sword and for a thousand years it was taken into battle by my family. Then, when the king and his wife were killed their daughter, princess Sahfire found the sword. In her father’s dying words, she was bidden to use its blade to retake her country, the very country I was forced from when I was a boy. 

She feared becoming ruler yet her older brother did not want to step up to the throne. He sought the sword and knew not of what power it possessed, for it could only truly be wielded by a sun child. Princess Sahfire was the sun child of the third age, and she carried this sword into battle with her to reclaim her lands. Never had such a powerful hand gripped the red hilt of this magnificent blade, not even mine.”

Olrilar gazed almost lustfully at the fine crafting of the sword and its guard which resembled the insignia of the House of Tavral of which he was the last descendent.

            “So, what happens now?” Munarih asked.

            “This sword is a sun vault, as is your amulet. One of the Nyshiniak items of old. I fear it is time to use it for its true purpose” he replied.

Just then the prince, Olmir entered and knelt at his father’s side.

            “Father, I came as soon as I heard of your misfortune!” he said.

            “Olmir my boy, I know the time is coming faster than I had hoped” the king said.

            “When I am gone, you shall need to protect your mother, though she is still useful with a blade, her strength is not as it once was. I leave the country’s armies under your control. I know you will not fail me, the age of the fourth sun child is over, the days of normality are upon us and I fear the powers of the north are growing. The people of the mountains are moving and they are leaving Danalavonia.

I leave to you the sword which was once wielded by the prince of Nyshuhr, the brother of princess Sapphire. May its second princely wielding see its owner reach the throne this time where it has not done so before. I believe in you my son, for you are strong.”

Olmir felt a tear roll down his face as he held his father’s cold hand.

Olrilar closed his eyes again and saw his own hands place the amulet around his wife’s neck. He then knighted her with the sword which he now held. He sat on his throne of fire a powerful king and his queen now stood by his side. Flames roared up from the floor around him and he was met with thunderous applause from the people of his city, king he became.

His eyes opened from the airy halls of the palace back into his darkening bedroom.

This time he felt his eyes harder to open and he gasped in quick pain.

He took Munarih’s hand and brought her closer.

            “Munarih my dearest love – I shall never forget – that day I lay eyes on you – on the eastern shores on that hottest of days. I knew immediately – you were to become my queen.  Never forget your people – Marekanah shall live on – in you, as Nyshuhr has – lived on – in me. You wear a sun vault – one of the five – greatest jewels in Enavyriath – is around your neck – and you have the – right to wear it, my queen. My – love” Olrilar’s last word faded in a sigh of breath which eased out of the king’s mouth. He lay still and Munarih looked upon him in pain. Her hand shook as she crumbled into tears.

Olmir placed his father’s hands over the sword hilt which was rested upon his duvet covered body. He then saw the flames around the room begin to alter their form and he knew what was to happen.

            “Mother, you must move away for a while!” he declared. He took his mother’s arm and pulled her up, much to her saddened resistance. Screaming in pain for the loss of her love she gave up the fight and held her son as he watched the last stage in the sun child’s life.

The fires from the candles began to float in thin strings of orange and swirled around the king’s still body. His pale and wrinkled skin began to give off rays of amber energy and they mingled with the orbiting fires. They then began to sink into the golden metal of the sword, absorbed into its glimmering blade. One flame trail tried to reach for Munarih’s amulet, but Olmir moved infront of her and caused it to disappear.

Then silence came. The king and the sword were like a tomb statue upon his bed.

Behind the bed was a doorway either side and from each appeared a figure of black robes. Under their hoods they wore golden masks and boasted gold body plating under their dark clothing. Carefully they took the sword from Olrilar’s cold hands and took it from the room.

Olmir went after them, drawing his own dagger. His mother rushed over to her husband’s corpse and cried hysterically, her tears soaking the duvet. She then heard her son’s shouting.

            “Wait! What’s happening!? Who are you?!”