Life of a Phoenix - Chapter 12 - The Lord Tyral

Elysian led the way through the halls, amicably chatting to everyone, or at least tying too. The walked seemed a lot shorter than what it was when they finally reached a set of bronze doors.

He held out his hands, grinning at the group. "Hold on a sec, got to tell Tyral there's more than Aryun here." He turned to her and wagged a playful finger. "You didn't tell us you were bringing a group of people, darling." He smiled before he nearly skipped down the hall to the door, slipping into the room without so much as a sound.

Mara couldn't help it and started to laugh. "He's very nice!"

Aryun smiled faintly. "Yes, Elysian is probably one of the more playful gods, so watch your money and clothes." She winked and Mara.

"What?" Alena perked her ears up.

"Exactly what I said. He's playful." She smiled slightly.

"Do you feel better now?" Erdric titled his head.

"Of course." She shrugged slightly. "It was just KimVay, no one important. Besides, I'm waiting to meet Tyral again. I've missed him." She smiled. "Do you feel better?"

Erdric nodded, his head slightly tilted. "It still . . . hurts for lack of a better word. So I'll be like this the next time we go through?"

"Well, if Elysian doesn't pull through and get you the charm, it'll be worse."

"Worse? Than now?" He sighed, biting back the swear that he was going to use. "How can it get worse?"

"Well, next time, you won't be able to get up. The dizziness will be too bad, and you likely will become sick from it." Aryun sighed, "I'm sorry I did not warn you."

Erdric waved a dismissive hand. "That's perfectly fine, Lady Aryun. I've had worse."

Aryun was about ready to reply with the doors silently swung inward.

"Well, here we go." She smiled over her shoulder at the group. "Ready to meet the god?" She turned, walking through the doors.

The room was elegant. Pale blue runner led to the raised dais, where a silver throne sat. There were pale blue tapestries of the colder climates, of wolves and owls all snowy white and blue-gray. A silver chandelier hung from the ceiling that had flickering candles placed in them, and several scones dotted the walls.

What caught everyone's attention, however, was the man who sat in the silver throne.

The long silver hair hung to his ankles in a cascade of starlight. His eyes were slanted and almond shaped, and silver-blue as they gazed with slight joy. His robes were silver and pale blue, sparkling with radiance, and clung to his slender body like a sheen of water. Delicate ears poked out of the mass of hair, and tapered into a point. His skin was pale and tinted with a delicate silver hue. His hands were long and slender, graceful as they came out, spread in welcome.

The slender, delicate lips curved in a smile, and Aryun didn't bother to wait. She flung herself at the man hugging him and looked like she would break the frail man.

The man sighed and wrapped his slender arms around her, squeezing back as hard as she was squeezing him. His hand brushed through her hair, and he closed his eyes, leaning his cheek against her.

"My Aryun," he whispered softly with his silvery voice.

Aryun hugged him closer, before she finally pulled back from his arms. She brushed back his hair, fretting and fussing that his circlet was mussed.

The silver man took her wrists in his hands and brushed his thumbs across the back of her hands.

"I do not mind, my Aryun."

Aryun fell to her knees beside his throne; bowing her head to touch his wrists as she turned her hands, bring them to her forehead.

"My lord. My dear, sweet, gentle lord, I am yours to command."

The lord laughed and slipped his hand free to tip her chin up to gaze at him. "Aryun, you are no one to be commanded. You are like a sunray that will never be captured. You need not bow to me, my Aryun."

His voice was smooth like velvet down the back, soft and gentle and laced with love.

He rose and brought Aryun to her feet with him as he walked down the dais to greet the others.

He inclined his head, his voice nearly singing. "I am Lord Tyral, Guardian of Wisdom, ruler and protector of Man as well as the Rex of the Gods. It is an honor to meet my Aryun's entourage."

Tyral walked amongst the group, receiving an introduction from everyone save Erdric.

Finally, he came to stand in front of Erdric. His silver blue eyes gazed at his face; following ever curve as if to commit his looks to memory.

"My elder brother states that you are Lucreana's child?"

Erdric nodded his head. "Yes, I am."

Tyral raised a hand and held it out in front of their faces. His fingers glided about an inch from Erdric's face, feeling gently, almost tracing his features.

"You are like her, and you likely have her temperament if I am not mistaken."

Erdric watched him, and noticed the sorrow flittering within the winter-touched depths. "May I ask who she was to you?"

Tyral sighed deeply and brought his hand back down to fold over his stomach. "She was my daughter, Lord Erdric, Regent of Zenthia."

Erdric blinked at this, not fully able to grasp the statement.

His friends gaped at him, hardly daring to believe what was stated.

Alena was the first one to tentatively speak. "He's . . . You mean that you're . . . He is . . . blood relative to a god?"

Tyral sighed again, painful sounding, and shook his head. "Not quite."

Mara looked at Erdric, then at Tyral. "What do you mean by that?"

Tyral turned back to look at Erdric. "My true daughter died many, many years ago during the first part of the Heaven War. She was my daughter by Lethe, and I loved her more than I ever thought possible. Voaton kidnapped my beloved daughter, raped her, and slit her throat. I blamed myself for not protecting her well enough and lapsed into a deep depression. Lethe tried to console me, but nothing worked. Finally, she suggested that I create things again like I did before for her. This, in some way, would allow my daughter to live on. I did create for her. I am the father of the Euphorics, but more significantly, I created a young woman who was equal of my own daughter's beauty, her spirit, her fire and love. I named her, my finest creation, 'Lucreana'."

Tyral looked at Erdric intently. "She is your mother. Lucria is nothing more than the offspring of one of the Euphorics. Her parents died, and Lucreana took her in and loved her, as Elysian loved me, and I love Aryun. If you are related to her, it is only distantly, and the blood would be too thin."

Erdric watched Tyral as closely as Tyral watched him. He was about to say something when Tyral suddenly smiled as if realizing something.

"Oh! I should give this to you. It should take care of that . . . unpleasantness that occurs when you use a portal."

Tyral twisted his fingers and a long silver chain appeared in his fingers. He reached over, sliding the chain over Erdric's neck faster than he could react.

Erdric reached for the pendant that hung heavily upon his neck. The fingers fluttered over the symbol, getting a feel for the creature before he saw it.

The face was small, pointed and the body was smaller, wirier. The ears were rounded, and the body was delicate, but yet a fitting symbol of Tyral's authority.

"A coyote?"

Tyral smiled, nodding. "Indeed, young regent. He's white with ice colored eyes. Very fitting it seems that he's mine." He clapped his hands. "Well, I supposed you are all tired and would like a rest, ne?"

"That would be wonderful, Lord!" Alena smiled at the gentle seeming man.

He laughed slightly. "My dearest Aryun has wonderful company." He pivoted upon his foot, turning back to look at Aryun. "I trust you remember where your room is?"

Aryun bowed her head. "Yes, Tyral. I do."

"Since Elysian . . . locked up your dear sire, you won't see him for a while. I will speak with him privately upon the matter of this . . . disagreement." He tilted his head. "He will be . . . disciplined . . ."

Aryun nodded her head. "Lord Tyral, which wing will they be staying in?"

His lips quirked upward. "By yours if you wish."

"Of course I wish. They are here for the situation, and it's only fitting they receive the same rooms as I."

Tyral nodded. "It is your wish, then please, I'm sure Aryun could show you the chambers. If you excuse me, I must see Ashitare and how he is healing. Aryun, I expect you there sometime. I'm sure you'd like to see how he's doing."

"Indeed."

"Then I must take my leave." He turned and lifted his hand, brushing his fingers against Aryun's cheek. "Fare you well until I see thee again."

Aryun smiled. "I shall, and thee as well."

Tyral smiled and pivoted on his foot again, walking out of the room with the soft gentle swish of his robes. His hair fluttered and swayed opposite of his hips as he approached the door that opened for him with no visible help.