"The Dawn that Rose from Fire"

Day Seven of Novel November- Alenyah listens to Berin's Plans

Chapter Four

Dinner was silent, but it was delicious. Alenyah bit down on the roast beef and almost rolled her eyes with how tender the meat was. Althea had caramelized the carrots, roasted and salted the tomatoes. If she had been alone, she would have broken into happy sways back and forth. She had known hunger many times, and she appreciated two things beyond her people- Valka and good food.

She caught Althea smirking at her from across the table and realized her face may have been giving away too much. She schooled her features into stoicism, watching the others instead. She hated having to deal with the tension in the room.

Finally, the plates were cleared away, and Alenyah promised to come help Berin clean up the kitchen after dinner- as she always did. At least, she meant to, unless this came to blows.

Alenyah sat back in her chair, wary, arms folded across her chest. Across the table, Kaelen leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, the light from the fire catching faint glimmers of mineral veins along his forearms.

Korith cleared his throat. “We may as well speak plainly now.”

Berin shifted, looking down at his hands. “Korith—”

“No,” the elder Fey’ri interrupted, tone quiet but firm. “You brought them here for a reason. She deserves to know why.”

Alenyah’s fingers tightened against her arms. “I’m listening.”

Korith rose, his shadow stretching across the map Berin had left unrolled on the table. His voice was measured, though it carried the weight of centuries. “Since the Fall of the Reach, the lesser wyrms have not ceased spawning. They breed in the carcasses of their dead kin, and without the Fey’ri to cull them…” He paused, letting the words settle. “The corruption festers. It spreads beneath the soil, through the rivers. It’s reaching for us.”

Her chest tightened with fear. “I sealed the passes-”

Foxran barked a laugh. “I’m sorry, YOU sealed the passes? How could someone so-” he eyed her, dismissed her. “Small? Afraid? Take your pick, seal the passes?”

The insult stung, but she ignored him, shaking her head. “The Vale is protected.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Tavren pinching Foxran who winced. They hissed, “Be NICE!”

“The Vale is protected for now,” said Korith. “But as the corruption grows, the strength of a single person cannot hope to stand against it.”

Kaelen interrupted, “We have seen the same sickness creeping South, it weakens our mines, collapses them upon crystal caverns and what we have managed to rebuild.”

In spite of herself, Alenyah felt sorrow. She could hear the screams from that day long ago, and she had thought….well, she had hoped she had saved everyone, or at least bought enough time for more Singers to be born.

Korith nodded grimly. “Despite our efforts, despite the barriers, it will touch us. It already has.”

Berin flinched, his jaw tightening. “Laila…” He swallowed hard. “She was the first sign. The healers said it was a fever, but I know what it was now. The corruption had taken her. I didn’t see it in time.”

The room went still. Even the fire seemed to hush itself.

Alenyah’s voice softened. “Berin…”

He shook his head, eyes glistening but resolute. “I can’t stay here and pretend we’re safe. Not when she died believing the Vale was untouchable.” His fingers brushed the edge of the map, tracing the red line that led east. “If we can reclaim the land near the Wastes—if we can find what’s left of the Reach—we can stop this before it consumes us all.”

Seth shifted in his seat, leaning into the light. “I knew Korith. I’d helped him out of a tight spot on the road. He said there was a chance to make this right.”

Alenyah’s gaze snapped to Korith. “You knew about this?”

He held up his hands placatingly. “I put him in touch with Berin- they discovered this together.”

“Discovered what?”

Seth pulled from his pocket a familiar black obsidian disc. A Songstone.

Alenyah forced herself to be still. Every fiber of her being wanted to lunge across the table, seize the stone, claw at him for daring to put his hands on such a treasure.

“Where-” she forced her voice to be calm. “Did you get that?”

Seth placed the stone on top of the map, on top of The Vale. “It took me months, but I went back, as close to our homeland as I could get. Merchants trade these, and they are certainly a hefty price.”

Berin broke in, “I know your people recorded the Songs of living beings in these. Memories, sorrows, and maybe…a chord strong enough to tame a dragon.”

Alenyah rose and planted her palms on the table. As her presence encroached, Kaelen reeled back suddenly. She could feel his warmth on her right, and her nearness seemed to have startled him.

“You think this is strong enough to tame the Great Wyrm?” Her voice was incredulous. “You don’t even know what memory it contains!”

“Why don’t we find out?” Korith asked. Before anyone could move, the Fey’ri snatched the stone off the map and held it aloft.

His eyes seemed to glow, and Alenyah felt a great surging of joy in her heart. She heard music- the flowing of harps and fiddles. Hands clapped in beat with the tune, and voices laughed. In her mind, she heard her own voice, from her own stone wrapped carefully in cords around her neck.

“Mama! Catch me!” And she heard the low tones of her mother’s alto voice. “Careful, dear one.”



Korith suddenly dropped the stone, and the joy fell with it. The air was heavier now, and Alenyah no longer leaned over the table, she leaned on it, almost gasping. She couldn’t breathe. Faintly, she heard Berin say her name. Spots swam in her eyes.

Berin’s chair scraped as he rushed toward her, but Kaelen was faster. He reached out instinctively, his scarred hand brushing her shoulder. She jerked away from both of them.

“I’m fine,” she snarled.

Seth clicked his tongue. “Well, it’s just music.”

“This one is just music,” Berin agreed. “But maybe, now that Korith can play them for us-” He buzzed with excitement, like a bunch of sharp staccato beats in the air. “We can find one that may work!”

The old Fey’ri sank heavily in Alenyah’s empty chair. He looked tired, and for once, Alenyah found Korith looking up at her.

“We do not need a Songstone, Berin, helpful though it may be.”

Tavren finally spoke, their voice echoing in the sudden silence. “What do you mean? I thought that was the plan.”

“We need a Singer.”

Her stomach turned to stone. She knew that look he gave—the warning, the weight of destiny coiled in silence. She shook her head slightly, but he didn’t relent.

Kaelen exhaled slowly, leaning forward, hands braced on the table. The firelight caught in the amber of his eyes, and for a heartbeat, he looked less like a lord and more like a man burdened by futility.

“The Singers are dead, old one.” He said heavily. “They were not strong enough to withstand the Wyrm’s might or his evil. They were too weak then,” he closed his eyes. “And they’re dead now.”

“Not all of them,” Korith said quietly.

No, Alenyah thought desperately. Don’t do this.

Kaelen’s head snapped toward him. “What are you saying, Fey’ri?”

Korith didn’t answer. He simply looked at her.

The fire popped, sending sparks spiraling up the chimney. Her pulse thundered in her throat. Every instinct screamed to stay hidden, to stay small.

But there was no hiding now.

“You presume too much, old one,” she said, voice low and shaking.

The knowledge hit them all at once. Tavren gasped, hand covering their mouth. Seth actually guffawed as if someone had told a joke, and Foxran choked on his ale.

She felt the world tilt, every breath catching in her throat. Berin’s gaze flicked between them, comprehension dawning with horror and awe. He looked as if he’d been struck.

“You knew,” she whispered. “Somewhere in you, you knew.”

His voice was raw. “I hoped I was wrong.”

And Kaelen, he suddenly loomed in the space, too large, expression thunderous. Alenyah retreated towards the entryway.

“All this time,” he said, voice low. “You hid among us. Let us bleed and break while you—”

“While I what?” she snapped. “While I lived? You have no idea what it cost to survive that day!”

He took a step forward, eyes bright with fury. “I lost my kin in the fire, Fey’ri. My brothers were singed to ash. And the one person who might have stopped it—”

“Kaelen,” Korith warned.

“—the one who could have saved them—stayed silent.”

Her pulse thundered in her ears. “I wasn’t there that day. My mother sent me away weeks before- so that I would be strong enough to withstand the corruption your own father would breed.”

Kaelen went red, hand reaching for a blade that he had left outside. The table seemed to shrink between them. Foxran moved slightly, wary. Alenyah could see Althea covering her mouth out of the corner of her eyes. Berin started to move between them, but she flung out her arm and pulled her brother away.

Kaelen’s voice hardened. “That’s a lie. My father died fighting the Wyrm. Everyone knows that.”

Alenyah’s laughter was sharp and bitter. “Oh, I don’t doubt he died fighting. But not before taking her life first. I pulled his blade from her body myself!”

Kaelen slammed his hands on the table. “Enough!” The fire guttered. “You think I’d believe that of my own blood?”

“I don’t care what you believe.”

Alenyah’s vision began to blur with tears, not of grief but rage. She found the knife she kept hidden in her tunic suddenly in her hand.

“Alenyah!” Berin was scandalized. Distantly, Alenyah hoped he realized he should always search his visitors. She was startled- when Foxran lunged in front of Kaelen, and when a blur of red flashed towards her. In the enclosed space, there was little she could do as Tavren smashed her against the wall. Outside, she heard Valka baying in alarm. The Stoneborn smashed her wrist once, twice against the timber until the knife clattered to the floor.

Her wrist felt broken. She breathed heavily, pinned by Tavren—and by Althea. For a moment, rage flared. She could’ve stabbed Althea. Shame crushed it, and she swallowed hard.

“I’d-I’d better go.” She pulled against Tavren, who refused to release her. She was practically in a headlock. “Berin, I want to leave.”

Berin was white and shaking, but he nodded.

“Tavren,” Kaelen said, his voice quieter now, the edge dulled by something heavy. “Release her.”

The Fey’ri dropped to the ground, realizing only then that Tavren had lifted her clear off the floor. She cradled her wrist, rallying enough to back away from them all.

Althea was sobbing. Korith’s face was lined in sorrow.

And Kaelen looked at her not with rage now, but with a dawning grief of his own.