"All of that must have been constructed after the elves were in Lünathar,” Tristandor added. “It is good to hear that our Elfstone gift has been put to good use."
"There is something more, Tristandor. I fear that Sheevos has been stolen."
"What?!” Tristandor shouted. The company halted, and all stared at the two. Some birds flew away nearby, startled at the sudden rage of voice. “How is it that you come to that conclusion, Aeligon?"
"I cannot be certain, but I suspect as much. I can feel things that you cannot, Tristandor. Until we find out, there will be much turmoil ahead. I believe that to be the cause of the spread of evil upon our lands again."
"Then, once we secure the aid of King Hrathis, we must go to your city. If it is as you suspect, we could be in more danger than we can fathom."
"I believe it is also the reason I was gifted this,” Aeligon added, his voice softer. From beneath his robes, he drew out the Phantom Dawn and showed it to the Elf-Lord. “This talisman is a window into the Nether. Why it has been gifted to me, I know not.” He unhooked the chain, and let Tristandor hold it.
"It is a fine gift,” Tristandor said as he flipped it over and over in his hands. The heart of the green gemstone splintered the midday sun into myriad reflections. After he had his fill of it, he handed it back.
"Yes, it is, although I do not welcome it as easily as you do."
Just then, Lynais yelled from the back of the line.
"Look, up ahead!” He pointed to a large outcropping of rock.
There, sitting atop the largest stone in the pile was a roc. It had a large fish in its grip and was biting at it ferociously. The party dismounted their horses and quietly made their way to some cover as they watched. No other creature could be seen in the area. The elves readied their bows. Rocs were not known to take kindly to a visit anytime, let alone while they dined. They decided to wait it out.
"What is a roc doing in these parts, Tristandor?” Ithyllna asked, watching in awe.
"I do not know that answer, but I do know that it is there now for whatever reason. There have been stranger things happening lately. We will just wait until it flies off before we head out."
The bird, after finishing its meal, cast the bloodied carcass down from the stone it was perched on and leapt down to the ground. Though it was harder to see from there, the wizard and elves caught site of a person jumping onto the back of the huge roc. Tristandor and the others gasped when they realized at the same time who it was.
Aerinas!
Bewildered, they watched the elf climb aboard the immense bird and lift off. Suddenly, Tristandor realized that he was still standing silent. He emerged from his hiding place and started yelling wildly for his son. The rest of the elves followed suit, screaming and running toward them and waving their hands. It was futile. Aerinas was gone, borne upon the wind by the wings of the roc.
"His direction is northwest,” said Aeligon, his hand sheltering his eyes from the sun as he gazed after the fleeing pair.
"That is the direction of Gudred. It was probably that roc whose shadow we saw last night,” Tristandor noted.
"Looking for us no doubt,” Ithyllna interjected, sheathing her knives.
"Indeed,” said Arn, mounting his horse.
"We cannot worry about them,” Aeligon said to the group. “We must make greater haste and reach Gudred. They will no doubt be waiting for us there. We must travel upon the road now. It will be more dangerous, but we are strong in numbers. At nightfall, we will seek shelter off the path. We should arrive at Gudred within the week."
Aeligon turned, kicked his horse hard and sped off toward the land of King Hrathis. It would be a few days’ travel before they reached the outskirts of Wiltrout. Tristandor hoped that his son would not meet any fell creatures before he and his elves arrived. All throughout the remainder of the day the Elf-Lord of Mynandrias gazed at the sky, silently seeking Aerinas.
* * * *
The sun had started to wane away by the time Aerinas and his roc reached the stronghold of Gudred. Through the darkness, they could make out the enormous shape of the castle with its single parapet reaching up into the sky to greet them. Far below, near the foot of the walls, small fires illuminated the village of Wiltrout. Wesnoc circled, so that he and the elf could take in as much as possible. When they flew over the stronghold, no torches were lit. Only an empty black pit dwelt within the looming walls. Lightless, it appeared deserted. They continued around to the backside of Gudred that rested against the chest of the Farrin Mountains. It was there that they noticed something very peculiar. The castle wall had been broken down quite a bit. It was not fully destroyed, but it was well apparent that many holes were torn into its side.
"What do you think happened?” Aerinas asked of Wesnoc as they continued to circle about.
"It would seem that there has been some kind of attac. I also noticed that there is only one parapet that guards the skies. I know that this fortress had four at one time. Where are the other three?"
"We will not know that until dawn. We have no choice but to set down near the village. We can learn of what happened through the townsfolk."
"Is that wise, Master Aerinas?” questioned Wesnoc. “If something foul has soiled this stronghold, it may still reside here. We must be watchful."
"You are right; we cannot land there. Take me over to the southern wall, the side that faces away from the village and mountainside. From there, I will make my way stealthily into the town."
* * * *
* * * *
"As you wish,” Wesnoc said, and turned suddenly toward the ground that graced the foot of the southern wall.
From somewhere in the darkness of Gudred, evil eyes kept watch of the circling bird.
* * * *
Wesnoc slowly glided to the ground, taking care not to disturb the silence too much. Aerinas jumped off his back and grabbed his bow, arrows, and sword from the saddle's leather bonds that secured them to Wesnoc's back.
"You wait here. If I do not return by morning you are free to go, for your quest will be over."
"Take care of yourself, young Aerinas,” said Wesnoc, as the elf scurried off into the night.
Aerinas crept to the south wall. He ran along the stone until he reached the end, where it turned into the front face of the castle. From there, he peered around the corner and looked toward the village. He could see the moat of water that ran along the castle's front, its front gate tightly shut and drawbridge raised. He looked up at the tops of the walls and noticed that more damage had been taken by the heavy stone guardians. Bits and pieces of rubble were in the water and some on land. Wiltrout lay beyond. He could see the few fires burning that they had noted from the air. With the front gate closed, Aerinas knew that he could slip past without incident. No guards took position atop the high walls, for the tops had been marred as well.
After securing his bow, arrows, and sword into his leather quiver, he emerged from his roost and sprinted toward the village. Like a ghost, his feet were light and made no sound. The grass was short and easy to navigate there. He reached the edge of the village, and ducked behind a large bail of hay.
Aerinas let the air settle down before he peered around to take a fresh look. Nothing. No people or animals stirred, and just a few fires roared. Even these were serving no purpose from all counts. Aerinas needed to look closer.
The night had fully swallowed the landscape. Still, Aerinas’ vision was amplified at night, and caused him no problems as he leapt from one shadow to another between the village houses and shanties.
Still nothing. He looked inside barns and houses, but little more than darkness dwelt therein. What happened here was the only thought pervading his mind in his continued search for any sign of life.
He finally came upon the largest structure in the village—a gathering house, or meeting room. Here was where the town met to discuss village life and other matters. Aerinas had seen similar structures before, but only in pictures in the Libra
ry of Songs. An uneasy feeling swept over him as he approached this particular one, and sounds started to invade his senses.
Aerinas crept ever so quietly toward the only windows on the east side. He slowly raised his head to look through the glass, and that's when his senses went dead in horror.
The room was spacious, forty feet wide and twenty feet deep by Aerinas’ preliminary estimates. It was filled end to end with people laid about, some on top of one another. None of them were moving. Aerinas rushed around to the front door, and burst inside. He staggered as he stood amidst a sea of bodies: women, children, and men of all ages. Aerinas began to weep silently, aghast at what he was seeing. It was then that he sensed something out of place.
Not a body decomposed, no blood or wounds were apparent, and no smell of death or decay was in the air. Each body was lying face down. Aerinas bent down and flipped one over to be sure of his assessment. As he did, he fell back in horror at what he saw. The man's eyes had completely rolled around white, and his hands were clasped in front of him. “The dream!” Aerinas exclaimed as he stood stupefied. The man had the same pale look that the bodies in his dream had. Quickly, he sprang to his feet and ran out of the hall.
As he ran, Aerinas heard something screeching behind him, pursuing him relentlessly. He dared not look back, but he could hear the sound getting closer and closer to him. Suddenly, he saw the huge form of Wesnoc sailing toward him, talons outstretched. Aerinas dove to the ground hard and looked up to see the roc fly over his head, missing it by mere inches. Then, he watched as the talons clamped down on a hideous looking creature. It looked like nothing he had ever seen. Before he could get a good look at it, Wesnoc took flight once again with the creature hissing and screeching in his grip. Blood spilled down upon the ground. Then the deafening silence slithered back into place in the village. Aerinas rose, and ran back to the south wall where he hoped Wesnoc would return.
After what seemed like hours, Aerinas heard the rush of air coming down on him from above as Wesnoc landed in the clearing between the arm of the mountain and the south wall.
Aerinas ran to Wesnoc, and hugged the feathers as best he could.
"I owe you a debt of gratitude,” Aerinas said as the roc did his best to return the embrace with his huge wing. “How did you know?"
Wesnoc chuckled a bit. “Well, my young elf, we rocs can hear and see things that you cannot. Something spotted you that I thought lived in the upper mountainous regions alone. Have you ever heard of a Cray?"
"Cray? No, I cannot say that I have had the pleasure,” answered Aerinas.
"They are dangerous creatures that roam about in the mountains that you see before you. They are creations of Hydrais, but were abandoned when thought useless. Now, unchecked, they are roaming about freely across these lands. Farrin and his giants used to keep them at bay; now I worry about their fate as well. We cannot linger here, for more will return and in greater numbers. They hate us rocs, you know."
"Then let us go, Wesnoc. We must find my father to warn him. They converge on this stronghold with little knowledge of what awaits them."
The agile Aerinas sprang onto Wesnoc's back and they rose to meet the clouds again.
"We will rest north of here. At dawn, we will seek out your father and wizard friend."
At Aerinas’ nod the two flew off to seek a safer haven to rest.
* * * *
Aeligon's light cut holes into the congested darkness. The party continued toward Gudred long after the sun's last golden tears drenched the blanket of grass and rock that they traveled. He never turned around to see if any of the elves fell behind. His determination was driving him now, pulling at him with every step toward the stronghold of King Hrathis. Suspicion was high; the heaviness in the wizard's heart grew with every pound of the horses’ hooves on the ground. They would reach a point where they could see Gudred by dawn.
The sun returned to look upon a tired and worn company. They had traveled relentlessly to get to Gudred quicker than anticipated. The horses grazed leisurely on the grasses near a small crest in the landscape, overlooking the last stretch of ground before Gudred's borders began. Here, the elves and Aeligon sat, chewing ravenously on stacks of bread and dried meats for their morning meal. They had forgone dinner the previous night to try and catch up with Aerinas and his roc. The golden rays shone like daggers through the morning mists that floated quietly upon the slow moving air currents.
However, the wind was disturbed by the heavy flapping of wings overhead while Aeligon sopped up the last of the morsels. They climbed to their feet, quickly drawing their swords and notching arrows. Crumbs were still falling from Aeligon's mouth as he rose with Pux prepared for spellcraft.
"Put your weapons down,” cried a voice from atop a bird coming to rest on its talons. It was Aerinas and his roc.
The weapons lowered as the elf stepped to the ground. Wesnoc screeched loudly, his wings outstretched in a sign of strength and power. Foran smiled, grateful at his friend's return.
"Father ... Aeligon.” Bowing, Aerinas approached them.
"Son,” Tristandor acknowledged. The Elf-Lord took notice of Aerinas’ changed demeanor. His son's face held wisdom that had not been there before. His stance was as solid as the stone foundations of Lythardia, and his speech was fluid and powerful. Surely this was the work of some force far greater than any the elves possess if it could tame his spirit, he thought, continuing to gaze at his son.
Foran saw it too, and became strangely aware of Aerinas’ new deportment. He remained silent, knowing that there were more important matters to tend to than his own selfish demands to know where his friend had been.
"How is it that you came into possession of such a great beast?” Aeligon asked, cautiously circling Wesnoc. “I haven't seen one of these in many years."
"We no longer reside in regions near here, Healer,” Wesnoc replied.
"It can talk?” Ithyllna gasped; she and the others jumped back, startled by the roc's speech.
"Yes, it can talk,” chuckled Aeligon as he brushed his hand lightly against Wesnoc's large feathers. “They've been able to talk for quite some time, and in languages thought incapable for their tongues."
"Comes from a lifetime of service,” Wesnoc said. “I've carried thousands upon my back in service to my various masters. I've learned a great deal in that time."
"And who is your master now?” Tristandor asked, stepping closer to the bird.
"Aerinas."
"And how is it that you came to be of service to him?” Tristandor pressured for answers.
"There are many questions that lie before you, Master Tristandor, but there is no time to dwell on such things,” Wesnoc said; he looked toward Gudred, which sat bathed in sunlight against the looming curtain of rock.
Aerinas addressed each member of the party, ignoring his father's request for information from the roc. “Cray have descended the mountains, and have taken up residence in Wiltrout. We encountered them last night when I went to search the town."
"Why did you search under cover of darkness?” Lynais asked, puzzled at his brethren's decision.
"We could not see a soul within the stronghold, the town, or moving about between the two. The courtyard was a black pit, the walls broken and scarred, which you can surely see from here now.” Aerinas pointed to the top of the entry wall, where the breaks in the stone could easily be seen. “I made the decision to land, and take a closer look."
Ithyllna inquired, “What did you find?"
"A storeroom in the middle of the town is filled with the townsfolk. All of them were stacked along the floor face down.” Aerinas looked at Ithyllna hard; all the horror from the sight wracked him still.
"Were they dead?” asked Tristandor.
"No. I do not know what doom holds them. I turned one over to see what the condition was, since there was no stench or signs of death. That is when I saw the white eyes."
"White eyes? All of them?” Tristandor's brows furrowed. He cast a
fast glance at Aeligon, who had already been looking at him. They held it momentarily and then broke.
"Yes, all of them. It frightened me so much that I bolted back out of the door. That is when the Cray descended upon me from behind. Wesnoc here saved my life.” Aerinas looked up proudly at the roc, who was basking in the elf's praise.
"Well it seems we all owe you a debt of gratitude, Wesnoc.” Tristandor and the other elves nodded at Aeligon's observation.
"Indeed,” said Tristandor, who continued to cast suspicious looks at his son and the roc. “Anything else?"
"Father, I suspect more to be out of place there. We must find out while daylight is upon us. I could not search the stronghold. The front gate bars entrance."
"Why not then use this roc here for assistance?” Aeligon questioned. “Wesnoc can lift us above the walls and drop us within them. How many can you carry on your back Wesnoc?"
"Five. It's a good thing none of you are of great girth.” The warbird laughed.
Tristandor ordered, “Aerinas, you will go. As will you, Aeligon. We need your great wisdom and, if need be, the magic you and Pux possess. Foran, Lynais, and Arn will go as well. Ithyllna and I will stay outside and guard the gate. Let us go while the sun is on our side."
Tristandor and Ithyllna rounded up the horses, and strung them together before mounting their own. The five climbed aboard the roc, and strapped themselves in tightly. All but Aerinas had never flown on one before. Nervousness and racing hearts were plentiful upon Wesnoc's back. The bird took flight more slowly with the added weight, yet ascended gracefully toward the castle walls. Tristandor and Ithyllna hastened along the ground below. It did not take them long to reach the gate.
From the air, Gudred looked more like a castle under siege than a stronghold of the great King Hrathis. The courtyard was much clearer now. Aerinas and the others gasped at what they saw in the sun's illumination.
Moving along the courtyard sluggishly were giants. Five could be made out for certain, though others could have been elsewhere in the castle. What they were doing shocked the flight more. Each giant possessed a huge war hammer that was being swung against the walls, breaking bits and pieces off. The stone was thick, so the hammers did little damage with one swing. But the more pounding the walls took, the more chunks came flying off.
Chronicles of the Planeswalkers Page 20