by Ed Greenwood
Ulutiu closed his eyes and from his throat came a long sigh; then did his spirit leave the world, as fog rises from the cold waters, and a shimmering fan of color soared from each crystal to dance like ghosts high in the sky. Thus were the Boreal Lights born. Then Cold Ocean encircled his death-raft with a towering waterspout and sprayed a shroud of ice over his body. The spout spun faster, and the shroud became a veil; faster it spun, and the veil thickened into a mantle, then into a coffin, and soon the ice had grown thick as a tomb.
The waterspout whirled faster, spraying the tomb with layer after layer of sleet, until the mound became a drift, the drift a hill, the hill a mountain, and still it grew. The winds raged harder. The sea waters froze into an endless white plain, and the heavens grew as gray as steel. Cascades of snow tumbled from the sky. The tempest whipped the flakes to every corner of the Cold Ocean, to the east and west, and to the north and south, and to all places between, and the vastness of the frozen sea vanished into the white haze of blizzard.
The storm continued without end, month after month, and the seasons grew into years and the years into centuries. All this time did Othea watch, and though her hunger howled as the blizzard, she took no food. Inside her stomach, Annam’s child gnawed at her womb, craving the sustenance to grow, but always the Mother Queen denied him, and kept herself alive only by drinking from the Well of Health. Never did the unborn giant-king grow strong enough to free himself, and the Mother Queen returned often to Cold Ocean to watch the snow pile layer upon layer. The sea became a looming wall of ice, as broad as the horizon and so high it scraped the belly of the sky, until it had grown so vast that the ocean bed could not hold it, and it slipped the ancient shore and began to creep southward, slow and inexorable.
Then did Othea’s laughter burst across the land like the crack of a distant volcano, for in the glacier’s path lay the pride of jealous Annam: Ostoria, Empire of Giants.
Upon the floor sat an orb of blue ice, its perfect surface polished as smooth as glass and its pith as transparent as air. The sphere’s creator, the titan Lanaxis, stood beside it. Gathered around him were Nicias, dynast of cloud giants, and Masud, khan of fire giants. There were also Vilmos, paramount of storm giants, Ottar, jarl of frost giants, and all the other Sons of Annam, the eternal monarchs born of Othea and destined to rule the races of giant-kind as long as Ostoria endured.
It had been thousands of years since Othea had sent their father away, but even lacking Annam’s guidance, Ostoria had grown large and powerful. It stretched so far that in two tendays Lanaxis could not walk from one end to the other. The empire extended almost as far southward, to where kingdoms of dwarves and humans were rising. Each race of giants held dominion over one area of this vast realm, and so the Sons of Annam were scattered far and wide.
Rarely did the Sons convene, but when they did, it was here at Bleak Palace, Lanaxis’s home. This day, the titan had summoned his fellows onto his wind-blasted veranda. Here, no wall or pillar blocked the northward view, where the vastness of the Great Glacier loomed beyond the frozen plain, creeping relentlessly southward to swallow their empire.
Lanaxis said, “I have called us together for good reason.” As he spoke, wisps of inky blackness gathered in the depths of his ice orb. The giants showed no surprise, for magic came to titans as naturally as smashing to hill giants.
Lanaxis continued, “I have found Ulutiu’s grave. Now can we destroy his crystal necklace, and with it the Great Glacier.”
A murmur of support rustled among the Sons of Annam, for they hated the Great Glacier as they hated nothing else. But one giant, Dunmore, thane of wood giants, did not add his voice to the approving chorus.
“You have called us here for nothing.” The thane’s voice was as stiff as the bole of an ironwood tree. “Has Othea not forbidden us to set foot upon the Great Glacier?”
“We will not tell her we are going.”
Lanaxis eyed the thane as he spoke. Dunmore was a runt for a giant, thinly built and standing barely as tall as the titan’s thigh. With a hairless body, oversized head, and oak-colored skin, he looked more like kin than true giant, and Lanaxis often wondered if Othea had not lied about the wood giant’s sire.
“You can’t deceive Othea!” Dunmore gasped. “Her punish-”
“I love our empire too much to let ice wipe it away,” Lanaxis interrupted. “I will save Ostoria-and after that is done, I’ll gladly bear any punishment Othea lays on me.”
Lanaxis shifted his attention to the other giants. “Let me show you where Ulutiu lies, and then it is my hope you will vow to help me.”
The titan stepped away from the ice sphere and spoke a mystical command word. The inky wisps inside coalesced into the image of a winter night, with the Boreal Lights stretched across the darkness like a curtain of gossamer color. The lights danced for a moment, then a white cloud churned up from the orb’s depths to engulf them in a raging blizzard. An instant later, the jagged tip of a mountain appeared in the storm.
The peak grew larger until its massive bulk completely filled the interior of the orb-then the sphere seemed to pass inside the mountain. The crag was made not of stone, but of blue clear ice, and it was streaked with the gemlike colors of the Boreal Lights. The globe drifted downward, following the dancing aura deeper into the mountain, until it reached a pool of crimson blood frozen in the ancient ice at the heart of the mountain.
In the center of the red stain, suspended in the ice, hung a slick-furred corpse that seemed part otter and part human. The figure had a slender body, broad flat arms ending in flip-perlike hands with long fingers, and feet turned outward to resemble a whale’s fluke. On his chest lay a necklace of five crystals, and from each crystal shot one of the Boreal Lights.
“The ice mountain stands near the center of the Great Glacier,” said Lanaxis. A chill as cold as his magical orb ran down his spine, for the titan hated the glacier as he hated nothing else on Toril. “To save Ostoria, we must go there and exhume Ulutiu, so that we may crush his necklace.”
‘That will be easier said than done,” hissed Ottar. As the frost giant spoke, a cloud of vaporous breath spewed from his blue lips, then rose to obscure his white face and icy blue eyes. “The Great Glacier is vast, and the Eternal Blizzard will not make it easy for us to find our way.”
“Leave the storm to me!” blustered Vilmos, paramount of storm giants. He was almost as large as a titan, with violet skin and a flowing beard of silver “But what about the glacier itself? After we reach the mountain, we’ll never chop through all that ice. It could be ten thousand feet thick!”
It was Nicias, the cloud giant, who answered. “The ice does not concern me, my brother.” His voice was as wispy as his white hair. ‘Together, we Sons of Annam can accomplish much.”
Lanaxis smiled broadly, pleased to have the support of so many brothers. “Nicias, you speak truly and wisely, as always.”
Nicias nodded politely, then went on. “But I wonder if we should be asking how to reach Ulutiu’s grave, rather than whether to reach it. Deceiving Othea is not something to undertake lightly. Good sons venerate their mother.”
“If our mother loved us, she would have stopped the glacier before it took half our lands!” ranted the fire giant Masud. “I’m for Lanaxis’s plan, and into the forge with Othea!” The khan’s skin was as black as coal and his beard as orange as flame. When he spoke, he filled the air with sul-furous fumes, but the choking cloud did not stop the other giants from croaking out a chorus of support.
Nicias raised his white brow and glanced around the veranda, then spread his hands in abdication. “It appears the question has been considered and decided.” The cloud giant cast a disparaging glance in Masud’s direction. “But I do trust that your comment about throwing the Mother Queen into the forge was mere exaggeration.”
Why should it be?” demanded Dunmore, his disgust plainly etched on his wooden features. “If you would disobey Othea, you would do anything.”
“We have
no wish to harm her.” Ottar’s cold eyes showed no emotion as he answered the wood giant. “Nor do we wish her to harm our empire.”
Othea gave life to our races! What is an empire compared to that?” Dunmore retorted. “If the Mother Queen asked, I would tear my palace apart with my own hands.”
“And I would burn it for you!” scoffed Masud. “But does that mean I’m fool enough to do the same? I think not!”
The fire giant’s retort drew a few amused chuckles.
Dunmore shook his head sadly, then glared up into the faces of his brothers. “I will have no part of this.” The thane stepped away from his brothers, then announced, “Now I will drink from the Well and take my leave.”
“You may drink from the Well of Health,” said Lanaxis The Sons of Annam customarily drank from the Well of Health before departing Bleak Palace, since the magical waters kept the mind clear and the body free of illness. “But you cannot depart. I fear you intend to tell Othea of our plans, so I insist that you remain here until we return. My servants will see to your comfort.”
“Lanaxis, you are too kind.” The wood giant’s voice was as bitter as sapwood.
The titan smiled, then looked toward the three cavernous archways leading into the interior of his palace. “Julien, Arno!” he yelled. “Come here, I have a task for you!”
As Lanaxis called for his servant, Dunmore spun and hurled himself at the magical ice orb, smashing into it with a tremendous crash. The sphere shattered into a hundred pieces, releasing a howling tempest of wind and snow Blinded by the raging blizzard, the Sons of Annam bellowed in surprise and began to stumble about, filling the air with crashes and grunts as they collided with each other.
Lanaxis dropped to all fours and crawled toward the center of the room, sweeping his hands back and forth through the accumulating snow. A heavy foot came down on his wrist, and when he jerked his hand free, a giant crashed to the floor beside him. The titan ignored the fellow and continued to sweep his hand across the floor until he found a shard of the ice orb. Taking the fragment in hand, he spoke the sphere’s command word, this time backward. The raging wind died away, and the snow began to settle on the floor in a thick blanket. As the confusion faded, a pair of legs kicked through the snow and stopped beside Lanaxis.
“You called?” asked Julien’s smooth voice.
“We come, fast!” added Arno. His voice was a stark contrast to Julien’s, gravelly and harsh. “What need?”
The titan raised his eyes and found himself looking at the contrasting faces of his two-headed servant, the ettin. Julien’s features were swarthy and handsome, with curly dark hair and a cleft chin. Arno was a pale-skinned brute, with a pug nose and double chin encrusted with reminders of his last several meals. Their necks descended to a single point, joining atop a broad-shouldered body that, at Julien’s insistence, they kept reasonably clean.
Lanaxis rose, looking around the veranda for the thane. The only sign he found of the wood giant was a set of half-buried footprints leading to one entrance of Bleak Palace.
“It seems Dunmore has left,” observed Nicias. “No doubt to do as you feared and tell Othea of our intent.”
The giants were silent, for they all knew how great the Mother Queen’s anger would be when she heard of their plan.
“I’ll go,” said Masud. The khan started for the archway. “It won’t take me long to stop that runt.”
Nicias caught the smaller giant’s shoulder. “The Sons of Annam do not fight each other.”
“Nor do they betray the confidences of their brothers!” Masud raised his fiery eyes to seek support from Lanaxis. “For that, I say we throw him in the smelter!”
“There’s no need to incinerate him,” replied the titan. “Just bring him back, and the ettin will hold him here.”
“No! There will be a struggle when Masud captures him.” Nicias continued to clutch the shoulder of the fire giant. “Dunmore will be injured-perhaps killed.”
“Better that than let him go!” boomed Lanaxis. “If Dunmore tells Othea of our plans, none of us will ever set foot on the Great Glacier, and Ostoria will be lost!”
“If we attack our own brother, or even hold him prisoner, We have lost it already,” said Nicias. “I will not stand for that.”
“And I will not let the glacier scour our empire from the world!” Lanaxis fixed an angry glare on Nicias.
The cloud giant returned the stare. In Nicias’s eyes there was no anger or fear, only determination, and Lanaxis knew his foe would never concede the argument. The titan’s anger grew hotter than Masud’s forges, and his fists burned with the urge to strike, but he locked his arms at his sides and kept them there. Many other giants held Nicias in high esteem, and to strike the dynast would be to cast Ostoria into a carnage that would destroy it as surely as the Great Glacier.
Vilmos laid his hand on Lanaxis’s shoulder. “I am sorry, my brother,” rumbled the storm giant. “Perhaps Nicias is right. To move against Dunmore is to destroy Ostoria’s spirit-and I’m sure none of us wants any part of that.”
With that, Vilmos turned to leave the veranda, as did Nicias. The other giants moved to follow, for they all knew that, without the help of the cloud giant and storm giant, even Lanaxis was not powerful enough to reach Ulutiu’s body. Nor did anyone suggest open defiance of Othea. So great was the Mother Queen’s power that only a fool would dare such a thing.
Still, Lanaxis could not bear to watch them go, for with them went the future of his beloved empire. “Wait!”
The giants stopped and looked toward the titan. “Accept our fate,” advised Nicias. “Let Ostoria die in peace.”
“I’m not asking you to move against Dunmore,” said Lanaxis. “Only to give me time. Stay until morning. Perhaps I can think of a way to convince Othea to let us save Ostoria”
Nicias and Vilmos exchanged glances, then Nicias asked, “You will raise no hand against ouj brother Dunmore?”
“I will leave the thane alone,” the titan promised. “All I want is time. If Ostoria has hope, I will find it tonight.”
The cloud giant nodded. “Then we will all try to think of something.” He looked to the other giants. “We meet beside the Well of Health tomorrow at dawn.”
With that, Nicias and the other guests entered Bleak Palace. Once they were gone, Lanaxis turned to glare at the mountainous glacier that loomed over his empire.
“Traitors!” Though Lanaxis had only whispered the word, it echoed across the plain as though he had screamed it from the highest mountain. “What do they care for Ostoria?”
“Them cowards!” offered Arno. “They ‘fraid to-”
“Quiet1” hissed Julien. “Can’t you see Lanaxis is thinking?”
“No-Arno’s right,” said Lanaxis. “They are cowards-as am I, quivering in Othea’s shadow!”
The titan smashed his fist down, so consumed by his growing rage he did not notice when the blow broke an entire section from the veranda railing.
Julien raised a brow. “It’s merely prudent to be cautious. After all, Othea is a goddess.”
“A demigoddess,” Lanaxis corrected. “And I am done venerating her. She is my enemy. I will treat her as such!”
“What?” gasped Arno. “Attack Othea? She butcher us!”
Lanaxis heard the objection only as a distant echo, for the heinous task ahead had already caught his thoughts in its dark web. The titan stood staring at the distant glacier for many minutes, then suddenly spun around and stepped toward one of the archways leading into Bleak Palace.
“Fetch me an empty vial and bring it to my chambers-and be quick. We have much to do before dawn,” he said. “Say nothing to my brothers. Let tomorrow’s events surprise them”
At dawn, the morning sun hovered just above the snowy horizon, a crimson disk that filled the open end of the colonnade. The orb’s rosy rays coursed down the length of the arcade, running almost parallel to the floor, so they just skimmed the Well of Health’s bubbling waters and set the pool a
glow with scarlet light. Despite the fiery colors, to Lanaxis the colonnade felt as cold as the Great Glacier.
The titan’s brothers had already gathered, and none of them raised their eyes to meet his as he stepped out of Bleak Palace. Without asking, the titan knew the giants had thought of no way to save Ostoria. They had left that task to him, and now they would have no excuse for shirking the price.
Lanaxis stepped over to the Well. The ettin followed close behind, bearing a tray of silver chalices, each sized for a particular giant.
“My brothers, I bid you drink.”
Nicias and the others finally met the eyes of their host. “Then you have reached the same conclusion we have,” said the cloud giant. “Ostoria cannot be saved.”
Lanaxis did not answer. Instead, he took the two largest chalices from the tray and offered them to Nicias and Vil-mos. “Have your fill from the Well of Health.” The titan smiled, taking care that his guests saw that it was bravely forced. “By now, Dunmore has found our mother. She will come quickly.”
Nicias did not accept his chalice. “We were all willing to deceive our mother. We should bear the consequences.”
Lanaxis’s smile remained frozen on his face. He had not expected to endure such pretensions of nobility. Exhausted as he was from his long night of labors, it took him a moment to think of a suitable response.
At last he said, “It would be foolish for all of us to suffer.” Inside his mind, an angry voice was screaming for his cowardly brothers to drink and leave. He had to prepare the Well before Othea arrived. “Besides, the blame lies with me.”
Lanaxis was about to continue when the floor trembled beneath his feet. A series of distant rumbles sounded from the other side of Bleak Palace, each one growing progressively louder. Othea was coming.
“My brothers, I’m sorry,” said the weary titan. “But it appears there is no time for you to drink from the Well of Health today. Julien and Arno will show you out.”