The Kallanon Scales by Elaina J Davidson

Valleur
re-growth, even if they cannot see it.”
    “How do you
resolve this? You cannot place a symbiosis on the Throne after
you.”
    Torrullin
shrugged. “Perhaps exile is a future option. I have a thought on
how to delay declaration of an heir, which I shall implement at
their ceremony. At this stage they require maturity and the Valleur
must be kept guessing.”
    “And maturity
will be garnered by remaining together.”
    Torrullin gave
a lop-sided smile. “I need to be wise, Taranis. Am I? Will I make
it worse? All I know at this point is that we will see this
prophecy through, and until then I aim to delay revealing. After?
The decision must be mine, or yours, not the Valleur in
general.”
    “Will you tell
the boys?”
    “I have
to.”
    “They will
kill me.”
    “If they
understand you are there as buffer, they will hark.”
    Taranis was
not as sure. “Will you tell me who is what?”
    “Once I have
spoken to them.”
    “And they will
know also?”
    Torrullin
nodded.
    “Another
symbiosis,” Taranis understood.
    “One that may
protect us.”
    “Will it
protect the Valleur? Valaris? Wherever darak turns his gaze?”
    “Lumin will
hold evil in check, as he has done for many years.”
    “You are
burdening him, Torrullin.”
    “I know, but
he will understand, and the other has not completely turned. It may
get easier.”
    “That is being
hopeful.”
    “Perhaps.”
    Taranis
sighed. “We deal in hope.”
    “Makes the
universe turn.”
    “Love does
that.”
    “Love is a
kind of hope.”
    “And what does
darak do for lumin, Torrullin? Surely there should be mutual
benefit?”
    “It makes him
a good leader. It strips him of what remains of his innocence.”
    “And that is a
good thing?”
    “No Vallorin
has been an innocent.” Torrullin finished his coffee and rose.
“Come, let us to that seat. I would sit on it with only you as
witness, and then it is your turn.”
    Taranis
drained his own cup, rose slowly.
    He wished he
said no.
     
     
    Taranis came to
rest beside Torrullin when he halted before setting foot to the
dais, looking ahead.
    Torrullin
stepped onto the dais and approached the seat.
    It was a
simple chair made spectacular by its priceless alloy, had rounded
armrests with a straight, high back.
    Torrullin
turned, face expressionless. He stepped back swiftly and sat. The
Throne glowed, and then the glow transferred to its occupant and
was gone. Torrullin’s eyes took fire, hands clenched to the
armrests.
    He leaned back
for maximum contact, and his tunic burst open to reveal the blue
Dragon on his chest, and it leapt in joy, in recognition, a living
extension of the Vallorin.
    Taranis was a
little awed, a lot shocked. This was his son. Millanu’s son. A
Valla, more than an Agripson. What power to the Vallas, by god.
    Torrullin
closed his eyes, savouring the resurgence of power, thinking
nothing, asking nothing, feeling renewed, knowing welcome and
recognition.
    This was pure
and did not judge, did not expect and did not instruct. This was
Nemisin’s Throne, from then to now, unbroken.
    He laughed
aloud. Yesterday Vannis put the fear of the Goddess into him when
he intimated the Throne and his visions of the dark one were bound.
There was no knowledge of that here - merely the sense of having
come home, full circle.
    He opened his
eyes. Freedom. To know so much without asking. He sobered. A
prison. To know so much without asking.
    Around his
grey irises blackness hovered, the sign of Destroyer arising, part
of it and accepted by the Throne. His sons had never seen that part
of him.
    Taranis
understood then how it was Torrullin raised them without
discrimination. They were him. He understood why he was asked to
stand in Torrullin’s stead. Love was a powerful force. Love was a
kind of hope.
    Torrullin
gazed down. “I am able to control both my natures, as they control
each other. Fear no more.”
    Taranis
nodded. It was not a father who spoke, not Enchanter, not
Destroyer, although all