by C S Marks
The battlefield vanished. Gaelen opened her eyes and beheld Arialde, whose eyes were filled with a reflection of the same horror. She had known Ri-Elathan of old and had called him friend. She held Gaelen for a moment, trying to calm her. Gaelen quickly pulled herself away and stared into the eyes of perhaps the most powerful being remaining in Alterra, knowing that Arialde had shared this horrific vision with her. Though they had lasted only a few moments, these images would remain forever etched in Gaelen’s mind.
Look into my eyes, Gaelen Taldin!
The Lady searched the depths of Gaelen’s bright eyes for a moment, and when she beheld no madness in them, she was relieved. Arialde gripped Gaelen’s shoulders, chiding her gently, though she was clearly sympathetic.
"You have a most unfortunate curiosity, Elf of Greatwood. You should not have looked into the Stone without my leave. Luckily I was nearby to aid you. I sorrow for your pain, but you must never look into its depths again without my leave. Do you understand?"
This admonition was completely unnecessary; Gaelen had never understood anything so well. She was still trembling as she spoke to Arialde.
"It…it was as though I actually stood in that dreadful place! That was the most terrible sight I have ever beheld. Does this mean that it actually happened in this manner? My only love died so horribly and in such pain? Long have I known it in my heart. I felt it upon that day, but never had I seen the flames…or heard him screaming. Please, Lady, tell me that it did not happen so, that this is some dreadful punishment for my indiscretion."
But Arialde shook her head, her eyes full of regret. "You were there, Gaelen, in a way. What you have witnessed came to pass. In this case the truth was more than adequate punishment for your transgression. Now, I would have you come to my chambers, for I would assuage your pain and try to gladden your heart, though I know I may not."
Arialde would lead Gaelen to the beautiful dwelling of marble, where she would soothe her with tales of Farahin as she had known him, before the shadow fell upon him. But as the Lady turned to leave, she reached back to caress the Stone, as if to calm the turbulence within it.
Shandor…beloved brother, what have you become?
The following day Nelwyn saw very little of her cousin. Though Gaelen did have a somewhat volatile personality, she was not known to sulk for more than an hour or two, and Nelwyn began to become concerned when late afternoon came and she still had not appeared. Nelwyn found Rogond relaxing with Thorndil and Fima, and asked him whether he had seen Gaelen.
"No, I have not seen her since early yesterday, before she went riding with you," replied Rogond, who was honing his blade on an oil-stone. "She mentioned that she is now eager to be away, and I am inclined to agree. The Greatwood lies many leagues from here, and the journey may be difficult. The sooner we reach it, the better. I hope I will find welcome there." Rogond remembered the disapproving looks he had received from some of the Sylvan folk, including the King. "I am not certain where we should plan to spend the winter, but I would prefer to avoid crossing the mountains again!"
At this, Fima laughed. "Indeed! What sensible being crosses the mountains in late winter? Proof that Elves have a short supply of wits, if you ask me," he said, winking at Nelwyn, who drew herself up and lifted her chin in mock hauteur.
"We would have made it without incident except that, well, there were a few incidents." She began to giggle, and Fima, Rogond, and Thorndil chuckled along with her.
"True enough," said Rogond. "At least we did find our way to Mountain-home, that’s really all that matters. Hopefully we’ll see Gaelen before long—I would like to have her company tonight. She sings to me while I sleep, and it is the most relaxing and comforting thing you can imagine. In the meantime, let us prepare for departure." "So, we’re finally leaving?" said Gaelen, who had approached them unaware. Fima jumped.
"By the Beards of my Fathers! You did it again. Rogond, can we not attach a bell to her or something so that she cannot sneak up on me constantly? It is my fondest wish at this moment."
Gaelen forced a smile. "If that is your fondest wish, Lore-master, then I pity you," she said. "But be not pained; I will make more sound in future. So, are we finally leaving? If so, then I’m glad. I would very much like to be gone from here."
Rogond was distressed at her expression, as she looked very weary and unhappy considering the pleasant situation they were in at the moment. Her hands kept straying to the leather pouch about her neck, fluttering in uncertainty until they touched it and knew that it was still there. Something had happened, and he hoped that she would trust him enough to tell him of it. For now, it was best to reassure her.
"Yes Gaelen; I think we should leave within a day or two. Which of us should inform the Lord and Lady?"
"I will see to that," said Nelwyn, as she had another motive for seeking Arialde. She hoped to gain permission to look into the Stone of Léir and learn what it could tell. She turned to Gaelen. "Do you remember what we spoke about? Let us go and see the Lady together, then."
"I have had a change of heart, Nelwyn," Gaelen replied, refusing to look Nelwyn in the eye. "Pursue the matter if you wish. I do not wish to have anything to do with the Stone of Léir."
Fima looked at her with dawning understanding. Oh, Gaelen… surely you didn’t gainsay all my good advice and go looking in the Stone without permission, did you? But, of course you did. He shook his head as she turned and left them to wonder what had come over her. Yet Fima knew exactly what Gaelen had done, and that the Stone had so disquieted her that she now wanted to run away from Tal-sithian as fast as she could possibly do so.
Nelwyn sought out Arialde in the early evening and found her relaxing in one of many beautiful gardens amid the tall trees. Arialde welcomed Nelwyn into her presence, asking her why she had come, though Nelwyn somehow had the feeling that the Lady already knew. "I’ve been asked to tell you that the Company will be leaving your fine hospitality tomorrow, to our great regret," said Nelwyn.
Arialde smiled. "I think that not all of you regret it, Nelwyn. You and Gaelen have seemed restless for many days now. I am somewhat surprised you have lingered this long, though, of course, you are welcome." She searched Nelwyn’s gaze, as though she knew there was another question forthcoming. "Is there anything more you would ask of me, daughter of Turanen?"
Nelwyn raised her eyes to meet those of the Lady. "There is one thing I would ask. I hope you will not think me presumptuous, but I would learn all I may in this realm ‘ere I leave it. Our quest is difficult. Can the Stone of Léir provide some insight? I would ask your leave to find out."
Arialde smiled gently. "I have expected this request. It will take some courage to look within the Stone…most find it quite unsettling. You are welcome to it, but I warn you that it may not be all that you expect or hope for. I will aid you as I may, but you alone must decide how any revelation should be interpreted."
Nelwyn took a deep breath. "Is it not better to proceed with insight, though it may be unpleasant? If the Stone can help guide our actions so that we may avoid peril, then it is worth the risk. I am willing to accept it. By your leave, Lady, may we go now?"
Arialde nodded, but she did not smile. She rose and led Nelwyn to the glade where the great crystal still rested upon its pedestal. It appeared harmless enough, but Arialde insisted on approaching it first, closing her eyes and caressing the surface. She murmured an incantation in a strange tongue before backing away. This time the mist Gaelen had seen did not appear; Nelwyn beheld only a beautiful, many-faceted crystal as she stepped forward to look into its calm depths.
At first, there was nothing, and for a moment Nelwyn feared that she would be deemed unworthy of any insight, for a lowly Wood-elf might not be fit to gaze into the Stone of Léir. Then, with almost frightening suddenness, the same whirling confusion that had afflicted Gaelen overtook her. She fell into the vision as Gaelen had, as images—fleeting, but clear—came to her bewildered senses. Talrodin smiling at her as he had when she h
ad last seen him alive. Talrodin lying dead in the fire with Gorgon’s arrow in his breast. Halrodin battling Gorgon, being slashed to pieces, crying out in pain. Gorgon stooping to take Turantil, the sword of Halrodin, and performing the rather bizarre act of removing a part of his armor and slicing his own forearm with it before smiling in horrible approval. Gelmyr’s terrified face as he tried in vain to defend himself against the very same blade. An unknown She-elf crying in panic, just before Gorgon took her life.
Nelwyn stifled a cry of dismay as she kept on falling, but the terrible images were far from over. Now she saw Belegund. Gorgon had slashed his throat, and he was dead. Now Gorgon had Gaelen by the neck. To Nelwyn’s horror her cousin appeared lifeless, then to her wonder Gorgon released her and slapped her face, hard and repeatedly. Gaelen drew several difficult, painful breaths, and Gorgon smiled in cruel satisfaction.
At last, she stopped falling.
She was standing in the Greatwood, and her heart rejoiced when she realized that she was home. A small kernel of dread smoldered within her as she looked around to behold King Ri-Aruin, his son Wellyn, and many of their friends and kin. Why were they so bloodied and weary? They were equipped as for battle—here was Gaelen and the rest of the Company, including Galador. She knew the answer when the battle-cry of a large, fierce host of Ulcas came up from the south—they had advanced all the way to the stronghold of the King, where the battle had been joined.
Gorgon led the Ulcas. As he advanced toward her, his eyes turned to meet hers—but they were not his eyes at all. They were Elven eyes, hazel-green and glittering brightly—Gaelen’s eyes! Then Gorgon revealed a small, round object in his hand. When he concealed it, the familiar cold, pale grey eyes reappeared. He gave a terrible cry, and the evil army surged forward. Wellyn fell, pierced by an arrow. Ri-Aruin, surrounded by defenders, battled to the last. Rogond and Thorndil lay dead beside Galador, who was calling Nelwyn’s name with his last strength. Where was Gaelen? The Greatwood was falling to the power of Darkness, and the Elves were helpless to save it. Nelwyn fitted her bow again and again, trying to overcome the enemy, to no avail. She could hear and smell the forest burning behind her…and cried in terror.
Then she heard Arialde’s voice: "Enough!" The visions ceased, and the Stone went dark. Nelwyn was pulled back into the glade in a rush of wailing voices and crackling flames. She would behold nothing more. Arialde approached her, an expression of grave concern on her face. She let Nelwyn recover for a moment before addressing her. "These visions are grim, Nelwyn, and they are in some ways similar to those held by Amandir and myself. Now do you understand his warning? Gaelen and Gorgon are tied together somehow, and I suspect that it has something to do with the golden object in Gorgon’s hand. He has become powerful and threatens all you hold dear. We of Tal-sithian sorrow for the very fact of his existence and would aid you in your quest to rid the world of him, for he is beyond redeeming. There will be war before all is ended."
Nelwyn was still pale, and she trembled as she stood before the Lady. "I’m afraid to share these terrible visions with anyone. How shall I avoid bringing doubt and shame upon Gaelen, who of all the Company has been the most steadfast in pursuit of this horror? I do not understand the meaning, and I now regret my choice to look into the Stone. What must I do now?"
Arialde nodded; she did not blame Nelwyn. "Yet the choice was made and cannot be undone. Just remember that the Stone will aid you, if only you do not stray from the task of defeating Gorgon and ridding this world of him. Thus far, you have accepted it faithfully. Do not turn from it now! You will share the visions as you may, Nelwyn, but some you will keep. I will bring some gladness to your heart now. I also beheld a vision when I last consulted the Stone, and though much was grim, there was also some of joy. If the Company is successful, you will bear a child of Galador, and her name will be…‘Gwynnyth’."
Arialde smiled at the astonished look on Nelwyn’s face, and then turned and left her alone in the glade. Nelwyn stared after her and did not move from the spot for a long time. She would have to consider what she had just seen for some time before sharing any of it with Galador. And much of it, she reflected, could never be shared with anyone at all.
The Company departed the next morning, heading north along the Ambros. The Lord and Lady came to bid them farewell ‘ere they set forth, for Arialde would not leave the island. They stood beside the boats, which were laden with provisions, as the cool mists of dawn veiled the flat, steel-grey waters and clung to the shore. Amandir waited there also, and Fima rumbled in disapproval as he passed by this unwelcome addition to the Company.
The Lady went to each of the Company in turn, imparting an unspoken message, heard only by the heart of the recipient. She gave to Thorndil a glass through which he could see things clearly at great distance. For the piercing gaze of eagles are you named; now you shall see with their eyes. To Fima she gave a small volume that had been set down by Odo, the most revered of all dwarvish lore-masters. Fima bowed in respect, promising to treasure it. You may surpass Odo one day, Fima son of Khima.
To Galador she gave a small but elegant white horn mounted with silver. He winded it and they all marveled at the clear, mellow tone that sounded as though it would carry for miles. Do not let your love of Nelwyn blind you to your purpose, for you will never attain the happiness and peace that you desire until that purpose is fulfilled. Every one of the Company has a part to play; you must permit each to play it. She looked into the distance for a moment and then closed her eyes, as though collecting her thoughts. The slaying of Elf by Elf is not to be permitted, even in an effort to protect those we love. Do not give in to such desires, Galador. All must play their part. Then she moved on, leaving him somewhat bewildered by her message.
Next she stood before Nelwyn, smiling as she looked into her compelling green eyes. She drew forth a small, beautifully engraved silver cylinder with an enlarged end containing many tiny bells. When it was shaken, it sounded delightful—much like the water in Arialde’s fountain. This was a plaything of the Lady Ordath when she was a child, and she loved it on a time. I give it now for Gwynnyth, in the hope that she will love it also.
Nelwyn took the gift with both wonder and reverence. "May it be so, Lady. I thank you with all my heart," she said in a voice only the Lady could hear.
Then Arialde approached Rogond, who stood tall and watchful, his gaze clear and his heart strong. She asked for his hands, and he offered them to her. She took them and held them together between her own. You are a worthy man, Rogond. The desire of your heart you may yet attain, if you remain steadfast. Do not let anyone dissuade you, for she is of worth, and she will have great need of you before all is ended. Take this small gift, and hold hope in your heart.
When she withdrew her hands Rogond found that there was a tiny stone, plain-looking at first, but when it caught the light it flashed many colors, fiery reds and gold, deep, cool green and intense vibrant blue. This is like to her spirit, young Tuathan. Plain and unassuming it first appears, but the brilliance and beauty shines forth to those who know and understand its heart of fire. She looked into his eyes, and he took her meaning.
She went last to Gaelen, who was restive and fidgeting as ever, anxious to depart. She calmed as Arialde approached her. Last I come to you, Gaelen of the Greatwood, beloved of Ri-Elathan. I would bestow a special gift, for the road before you will be the hardest to bear. She held out her hand, and Gaelen took the gift she offered. It was a brooch of silver graven with the crest of the High King.
This once belonged to Ri-Elathan. He left it accidentally in my keeping, and I never had the chance to restore it to him. You shall wear it now, in remembrance of him. Do not dwell on the terrible visions you beheld, rather remember him as he was when you were bound to him in Mountain-home. Take care of your heart, and do not keep it closed forever. This is not what he would have wanted. Farewell, little Silent-foot.
Gaelen could not find words to say as she took the silver brooch in her hands,
warming it. She bowed her head before Arialde, and then looked up into her eyes. "Farewell, Lady. I do not suppose we shall meet again, though we may. I thank you for your aid in my grief, and I shall always remember the tales you told. Farewell."
Gaelen bowed once more to the Lord and Lady before climbing into the boat with Rogond and Fima. The Elves of Tal-sithian watched them as they departed, disappearing slowly into the mist. Once ashore, the horses were summoned and laden. Gaelen looked once more back toward the island, for though she could not see her, she knew that Arialde was there. She raised her hand in farewell, then wheeled about and cantered slowly toward the river, where she and the Company would turn north, toward the Greatwood.
Arialde raised her hand in return as they departed, her heart heavy with foreboding. This was not going to be a pleasant road, and it would be long and painful. It was likely that some would not live to see the end of it. At last she turned to go, after wishing good fortune and steady hearts upon the Company, hoping especially for the eventual happiness of Gaelen and Nelwyn, and of Gwynnyth.
At last Gorgon was rewarded for his vigilance. The Company had left the Lake-realm, and his vision was now unfettered. He rejoiced even in his pain as he beheld the solemn, thoughtful face of Nelwyn and the resolute expressions of Rogond and Thorndil. He could not, of course, view Gaelen; if he had been able to do so he would have seen the determination in her bright eyes, determination that did not quite conceal the haunted look buried deep within, the result of her encounter with the Stone.
It was indeed fortunate that Gorgon had not been privy to Nelwyn’s vision. It would have disturbed him; his course would have been different if he had known that she had gained such insight. As it was, he continued with confidence, secure in the knowledge that the Company had no inkling of his ability, nor of the destructive force he now commanded. He summoned Kharsh—it was time to get this rabble organized and moving north. He looked once more through Gaelen’s eyes as she rode alone at the rear of the Company, shivering slightly with the cold and pulling her cloak about her, though it was a bright, warm day.