Chronicles of the Planeswalkers

by B. T. Robertson

  The elf maiden who had answered his knock at the door an hour earlier returned and showed Aeligon to the room. Aeligon retired his body and mind to the bed, famished to the fullest extent. Pux was quiet and his face could not be seen on the staff's surface, as he too, was equally spent. Many hours passed before they woke, and prepared for the dawn meeting.

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  Chapter 5—A Party of Seven

  The night crept into Mynandrias slowly, but thoroughly. Lenthan crystals cast an eerie glow about the interior. Every now and again an elf would cross the causeways with torch in hand, causing the golden light to break the chill of the soft blues and greens. Almost every night was like this since the Siege at the West Gate. Many visited the Grove of Souls to pay silent tribute to both fallen friend and kin. Sometimes, a quiet sobbing carried in the air as sorrow continued to plague the Krayn people.

  Aerinas retired to his loft far up in the trees, paying little mind to the quiescence below. He was pouring over the map that he had torn from the book in the library, studying everything that he could, memorizing every detail. I will go there someday, he thought to himself as he looked around nervously, fearing retribution for having taken it without permission. His concentration was frequently interrupted by thoughts of his dream a few weeks ago. Being greatly disturbed, yet at the same time captivated by Krüna's beauty, was more than enough to keep his mind whirling. He folded the map and drifted off into a daydream about her: her fiery hair, her thundering whispers, and her soft touch. She seemed to know more of him than he even knew of himself, and this puzzled him greatly. “She was not real, Aerinas,” he kept saying to himself over and over again, fearing that some fit of aberration had taken host within his psyche. It felt real to him, like she peered right into the essence of his very soul, the fiber of his strength becoming unraveled at the slightest breath she asserted.

  So there he was, a great warrior being shaped and formed before his very eyes, yet he did not have the wits to see it then. How could he? He knew little of the implications of his trip to El-Caras and the events that had started to form around that single incident. Much to his disappointment and delight, that night he slept without the visitor to his unconscious.

  * * * *

  Overnight winter had moved into Mernith Forest and the surrounding lands. The sun was sealed from the world below by wintry clouds carrying a light snow and cold winds. Beneath the canopy of trees, however, the elves remained protected from the full force of the icy gusts. A few silvery flakes fluttered down, and lightly graced the ground. The air of fall gave way to the fragile peace of winter's gentle entrance, and Mynandrias welcomed it warmly. The city woke with the morning light and the activities of the day began as usual, albeit a bit more bundled up with warmer garments than days past.

  Aeligon stirred in bed at the light rap upon his chamber door.

  "What is it,” he grumbled, rolling over from his left side to his right. “Can't a wizard get the rest he deserves without being bothered at such an early hour?"

  "Well, my lord,” came a voice from the other side of the door, “I would not have woken you, but Lord Tristandor bids you come to the meeting hall."

  Aeligon lifted his head and cleared the mat of hair stuck to his face. “Is it time for that already,” he complained. He muttered something inaudible as he stood reluctantly, and walked to the door. Opening it he realized that it was the elf maiden again that was sent to fetch him.

  "I'm terribly sorry,” he awkwardly offered. “I had no idea..."

  "It is all right, my lord, I understand completely,” she interrupted coyly as she surveyed the wizard's unraveled brown hair.

  She blushed and left the threshold of his door. The weathered wizard smiled as he closed it behind her. Suddenly, he realized that he heard an awful snore resonating from Pux. He picked up his staff and tapped it against the bed post lightly.

  "Ouch,” bellowed Pux. “There is no need to wake me up like that Aeligon; it's just not right."

  "Very well, next time I will carry you in to the chamber of Lythardia snoring like a goat. We will see how that goes over with the elves."

  Pux cleared his throat, and became silent while the two readied to join the Council in the Hall.

  Aeligon entered the Hall; the entire Council had already arrived. The air was much colder than it had been. He made his way across the glossy floor to the staircase of the left balcony. After sitting down in the chair brought for him, he apologized greatly to the members, embarrassed for sleeping most of the morning away. Tristandor cast a smile in the wizard's direction, and started the meeting.

  "All of you well know that this city was attacked several days ago by a small band of goblins and wolves. Our judgment was swift and our resolve conquering, but the consequences of our actions will not go unnoticed. I summoned Aeligon here among us because he alone holds information vital to the peril that swells around us. I only learned of it just this past morning. The missing pieces of our reports are now falling where they may, and it is time to act upon it or face our doom."

  A rumbling of voices and turning of heads went around the group. Tristandor called for order.

  "I ask the Council's blessing in arranging a party of elves to go out into the lands beyond Mynandrias to seek out allies for a brewing war. We have kept to ourselves for long enough since the fall of Hydrais many years ago. It seems a new evil is rising up against us, using the Sorcerer Haarath to perpetrate its will. We must unite the peoples of Vaalüna, or we will fall. It has come to that."

  "But winter is upon us,” said one member. “Traveling will be treacherous, and much will be risked in sending out our own. What if we are put under attack again, Tristandor? Our best lords and maidens will not be here to defend Mynandrias, if indeed you are willing to send our best."

  "That is why we are only sending one party of our best: one party bearing seven warriors with different skills. Aeligon will be one of them; so will my son Aerinas."

  More murmuring could be heard at the mention of his son's name.

  "My lord, with all due respect, your son is the reason this has happened to our peaceful dwelling,” yelled Arath.

  Tristandor sternly replied, “If it were not for my son's folly, this peril would not be known to us save for the suspicion of it alone. It is because of his disobedience that we may yet survive whatever grows against us in the East. Speak not of him disdainfully, or leave this House in shame."

  Arath sat down without uttering another word. Aeligon sat quietly still, always listening fixedly. He finally stood, and took the floor.

  "Tristandor is right. I was there that night when Aerinas collapsed on the forest floor. A sprite of the wood sped the news to me, and I was led there by the creature. I found Aerinas close to death. If it were not for a great pot of good fortune, he would not be here today to speak of his findings to us. His fate is not in our hands, and it is leading him where it may serve best in these times. I do not think that he has or wants the knowledge of this.” He looked at Tristandor sharply.

  Tristandor turned from Aeligon's piercing glance and continued. “The company will also include me."

  A great rousing and turbulence went up among the Council. Even Aeligon did not foresee this proposal, the look on his face most surprised. Many rose and shouted in protest of this decision. Tristandor called for order sternly.

  "My brothers, long has this House served as a body of order and governance for the Krayn Elves of Mynandrias, and long has it served to protect this great city. We now stand upon the edge of a vast chasm within which we cannot see any outcome, for we know little of what awaits. We must act in accordance with our laws and our principles. I am a warrior, appointed to hold the High Throne in honor of Lythardia's line. We now face a rising evil in our midst. I will not stand by and do nothing while my son is sent out to face it. It was fate that sent his spirit searching for truth, and it is fate that is guiding me now to join him if he is to accept this responsibility. Aeligon a
nd I will now go and speak with him, and offer him this challenge. You are all free to go."

  A silence fell upon the Council members, who stared at their leader with mixed thoughts of fear and doubt. Tristandor removed the silver crown that rested upon his brow, and set it down to rest on the red cushion next to the throne. His robe was laid across the arms and his rings, save one, were removed and given to an elf boy who promptly retreated to a back room where they were stored in a beautifully crafted box of silver. He descended the staircase, joining Aeligon by the entrance. Through that, past the Vrünyn Guards and out of the House, the pair went, leaving the rest of Council to talk amongst themselves.

  Outside, Aeligon and Tristandor walked along the paths toward Aerinas’ abode.

  "Why did you decide to send out just one company,” questioned Aeligon.

  "Because one company will cause fewer disturbances than three or four. We will cover less ground, but we will suffer fewer losses and leave more behind to defend Mynandrias if a strike comes again."

  "Then you are aware of our task set forth, are you not?"

  "Of course, we are going to seek out each race and ally, Aeligon. Better it be you and I together to persuade them than any other. I fear that some who would give my elves trouble would not treat us with the same disdain."

  "Very well, but it will take us longer to complete than the time we have been given."

  "Perhaps, but we know little of what we seek out from the start. I could not stand to waste needed warriors if it turns out to be little more than a rousing of minor consequence."

  "And if it turns out to be Hydrais, or one far worse?"

  "Then our hopes diminish with every race that we cannot persuade to aid us. Too long has Vaalüna gone without conflict. Few people know of combat anymore, save for what may lie in the regions we eye. And according to legend, Aeligon, this is Hydrais’ doing. His mirror has been found and used to locate the hidden city of Trünith, the lost resting place of the Levünithain, the scroll written by the hand of Hydrais himself. Its sole purpose is to summon him back into this world if his body were diminished. This requires our most immediate attention."

  "Tristandor,” Aeligon said, looking most impressed with his elfin ally, “how is it that you know of this lore? I know we fought side by side in the Great Wars, but Hydrais’ body was never found. The tale of his doom is only a shadowy rumor whispered amongst thieves and murderers."

  "I know because it has been foreseen as far, Aeligon. I cannot begin to tell you of the knowledge of my elfin ancestors, nor my bloodline, but it runs deep as the ocean of Arthea. Many beings have crossed this earth since the time of Hydrais. Some bear news from his former land of Dunandor, telling us stories of armies being seen near the borders of the Dragon Mountains in the east. When scouts were sent out, none returned with any news or traces of such legions. Hence, we have not delved too deep in these matters, so as to not waste the resources of our people. It seems we have waited too long. The stories may yet turn out to be true after all. Such wasted time!"

  Tristandor's wisdom out-shadowed even Aeligon's in some things—the most prominent being the lore of his own people. Despair or not, Tristandor knew history better than anyone in Mynandrias, or so he claimed. The elves were enmeshed in many conflicts in the ancient days. Tristandor was involved in most of them, since his younger years held more anger and bitterness than the wisdom he obtained. The mirror had been found after all the time that had passed. After so many years of searching the lands and Planes for it, even the wizards of the Order of Light could not find it. Aeligon had gazed into the mirror, but not to the extent that Haarath was allowed, mostly due to the differences in alignment. Still, they had enough to go on to start a probe into the matter, and enough heart to succeed. It would take a long time for Haarath to amass the legions necessary to carry him across the Realm to seek out Trünith, if it existed, and its evil. Time was somewhat on their side. First, Aeligon and Tristandor both knew that their small band would have to go west into the Farrin Downs, in the land of Fornidain, to seek out the giants and men that battled the trolls in the Great Wars. Then, northeast to Lünathar they would seek out any remaining force of wizards. The hazards along their route were unknown, but expected, as there were many changes that had occurred since the elves roamed the land.

  * * * *

  Tristandor and Aeligon found Aerinas absent when they entered his domicile. Nimoni was standing in the middle of the platform staring out into the open air of the wood. A slight breeze, carrying a frosty bite along with her embellished scent, embraced their acute senses.

  "Nimoni, where is my son?” asked Tristandor as he entered with Aeligon close behind.

  She stood there, never moving, although her robes tossed in the breezes. “He has gone to the Library of Songs again. Shall I go fetch him for you?"

  "That will not be necessary. I know where it is."

  He turned and went out of the room with Aeligon trailing. The mage did not dare ask why the coldness was so apparent between them.

  * * * *

  Nimoni, with her wisdom unreeling, stood fast upon the floor. Her husband and the wizard turned their sights to the Library of Songs, where her son spent much of his time lately. A place of wonder, learning, and retreat was that place for he who was no longer a child to seek the counsel of his mother. Yet, she felt a great despair sweep over her heart, one that clung to it and held fast, like the deep chill of the present winter. She knew, as most elves of age and enlightenment did, that her son was to embark on a great quest to destroy the plague that was silently seeking retribution upon the Plane of Vaalüna. Still, she could do nothing with her strength except to keep hope alive and burning within her soul. A thought, a plan, turned over and over in her mind, one that begged to escape and be known. She did not know what Tristandor was planning, so she repressed the plot until the time came when he came to her to confide. Quietly she walked out of Aerinas’ abode and descended the winding staircase, her hair trailing behind her, caught on the very wind she made with her movement.

  * * * *

  Tristandor and Aeligon entered the Library of Songs, and scoured it thoroughly to find Aerinas. They found him seated at a table, and hunched over as he carefully studied something by the flickering candlelight. The pair approached him quietly, but with a stern presence. Aerinas looked up from the parchment that he was admiring, covering it slyly with his right arm. A stack of old, leather-bound books stood in front of him.

  "Father ... Aeligon” he acknowledged without a hint of surprise, though he was taken aback slightly. “What brings you here? Looking to take up reading again?” His eyes bore confidence in them, as if something more powerful resided in the pale blueness.

  "We come to ask you to a meeting of the Council, so that you may decide your fate for yourself. We cannot speak here in this place. Please come with us, if you will,” Tristandor offered.

  Aeligon did not speak, but his visage told Aerinas that this was serious and called for his strict attention. Aerinas rose without speaking a word. He folded the map, put it in his tunic pocket, and made for the door with Aeligon and his father behind. The elf working the lobby desk simply cast a curious glance in their direction, and then went back to his business.

  Aerinas turned suddenly toward his father when they were outside.

  "You and your Vrünyn Guard treat me like a common thug, yet now I am asked to have council with you?” Aerinas asked with anger flashing in his eyes.

  "It was a mistake, my son,” confessed Tristandor, humbling himself with a bow of his head, unthinkable from father to son. “We have heard much-needed news of the north from Aeligon, and it is imperative that you listen to his insight now, even if your faith in me has been betrayed."

  Aeligon stepped forward, putting his hand on Tristandor's shoulder to relax him a bit.

  "It is true, Aerinas,” said Aeligon. “I came to this city seeking your father's wisdom in this matter. The battle at the gate was but a tip of something far m
ore evil about the lands. I have seen into the mirror that you found at El-Caras, and I believe there to be a far greater threat growing than any of us may have imagined. It is, however, not without a sense of doubt."

  "What do you mean?” asked Aerinas.

  "I came upon the mirror and encountered an evil that nearly took me, nearly broke me. I did not see what Haarath may have seen, for his purpose is wielded for an evil that he himself cannot fathom beyond this world. His undying search for power has manifested itself in the tampering with a force that was to remain isolated. The ruins of El-Caras were sealed for this reason, yet now this seal has been broken, as you well know, and its bowels plundered. The earth has been in great turmoil. The animals are in an uproar, frightened into submission by creeping things. The Mirror of Trünith has been found and used, Aerinas."

  "I do not know of the tales told of days long ago, though my heart has been searching lately for answers that drove me to the ruins that night; answers that nearly destroyed me."

  Aeligon said, “It is those driving questions that guide you still. Your spirit is not yet willing to undergo the task that is placed before you. You were meant to go against your father's will, however unwise it seems to him now. You were also meant to stumble upon the wretch Haarath, and to end up in my house that night. Without this turn of events, this would be falling on deafened ears and blinded eyes, beyond even the foresight of the wisest of beings. I believe the mirror has pointed Haarath in the direction of the lost city of Trünith, the fabled resting place of the Levünithain. That was the rumored name given to the scroll of Hydrais. This warlock needs only this scroll to be recited for his plot to be beheld. Though I know not the exact location, I know the land ... Dunandor."

  "Dunandor?” asked Aerinas. “I have not had the pleasure of traveling to that land. Of course, from what I have learned of our history, that is not a land that I would ever want to visit."