by Jake Yaniak
'Long have I waited within my halls, in idle sorrow. But no longer shall I hide myself in grief. The time is come for the return of the Immortals. Take up the flesh once again, and I shall have prepared for you an army of five-hundred thousand deathless souls, immortals from the ancient days who have been born and bred to serve you, even as I, their lord, have been consecrated to your service.'
'Know, my lord, Pelas,' the emissary said after he had finished, 'that this message has been sent by Lord Bralahi himself.'
Lord Pelas rose from his throne and stepped down toward the emissary. 'It is as I have foreseen,' he said, speaking, in truth, of the Star-Seer's prophecy. 'The heart of Bralahi is ever faithful, and the time of his awakening is now.' He came to stand directly in front of the emissary. 'There are few eyes that can yet see the spirits of old. The blood of the Verdant is strong indeed if even their young ones can behold the god of Weldera. In the north it was only the high elves who were able to see the gods.'
'Indeed, my lord,' the emissary said as he fell to his knees, 'there are many among us who are so blessed. The life of the Immortals is strong in Malgier; we have not waned and shriveled like the elves of the North and of the East.'
'But still,' Pelas said as he circled around the emissary, almost as if he might discern the truth and sincerity of his message from his very appearance. 'I will not accept the service of Bralahi the long lost, though greatly beloved servant of Bel Albor so lightly. Not on mere words. Tell your master, that I will not believe his word, though he send an Aggelos or a Siren to speak it, until he shows me some proof or gives me some token of his loyalty.'
'Name it, my lord,' the emissary replied, 'and the lord of the south will see to its completion. In this I speak with the authority of Bralahi himself.'
'When the siege is broken, and this Marin ramble scattered, I shall march to war against the spirits of the West - against the land of Agonistes. Send forth the remnant of Solruvis, who hide in Solsis - send them forth to punish Amlaman for its service to the devil. Then will I believe that your master has power over the Immortals.'
'It shall be as you have said,' the emissary replied.
'Agonistes' land will fall at last,' he said coldly. 'Amlaman will bleed for its loyalty to the dark one. For you know as I do, young Simnahi, how mighty the Immortals are in warfare. This age will be the Age of Arising.'
Numbered
Though the southern elves had been hidden away since the fall of Dadron, they had not been wholly idle, nor had they forgotten the ambitions of their forefathers entirely. A standing army of some five thousand men was kept ready at all times in the hidden valleys of northern Solsis. In addition to this, there were many hidden cities of Immortals that, though separated by space, were yet loyal to Solran, the grandson of Solruvis. Each of these cities had an army of its own, together bringing the number of warriors that answered to Solran to nearly twenty-thousand strong.
When the emissary of Bralahi arrived in the hidden lands of the elves bringing the request of Lord Pelas to their ears, a census was made, and all the men of fighting age were numbered. Added to the trained warriors there were an equal number of youths who could, with some effort, be taught the ways of the sword. These numbers so surprised the Lord of Solsis that he very nearly fainted upon hearing them reported by his captains. 'Our strength is not so lost as we have long thought,' he said to his counselors. 'If this messenger speaks the truth, and Lord Bralahi is poised to return to Tel Arie, to meet our old master Pelas in the flesh, then we will have been proven fools by that devil Daruvis, who would have had us march to war in Dadron. Had we done so, our numbers would have been revealed to our enemies, and we would more than likely have found ourselves captive in besieged Dadron along with those the old traitor wished us to rescue. Clearly he meant only to lure us into a trap. But we are not fools.'
'What is your will, my lord?' his counselors and captains demanded.
'We will harken to our ancient ally, and prepare Amlaman for the birth of our savior and god. We will make safe the land of Amlaman for Pelas. The prophecy of Kolohi travails even now, ready to bring forth its fruit. For he, ere he vanished from this world, told us to expect the rebirth of our god. Now, even as we stand here in council, the vessel has been discovered. Such is the testimony of Bralahi.'
The preparations were set into motion that day: the forges were lit, old alliances were renewed, old oaths were remembered and new oaths were made, all in preparation of a war such as the world had not seen in nearly fifteen centuries. The remnant of the elves were preparing themselves for their renaissance.
Wasteland Fortress
Nearly two hundred and thirty leagues to the south of Japhrian, beyond the Amla Desert, stood the fortress of Ilmalam, which watched over the southern border of Amlaman. In long forgotten days the city belonged to Lord Falruvis, who, before the wars of Xanthur, ruled from Luma, and not in Dadron. But when the elves were driven by their enemies into the north, the city was abandoned and ceded to the kingdom of Amlaman. No trace of the elves now remained, save for the remains of an old rampart that stretched from the northeastern side of the city into the south, vanishing into the sand near the southern border of the city.
Against this dilapidated wall marched the army of Solran under the command of his son Folran. They were not expected. The watchmen of Ilmalam had grown accustomed, over the years, to keep their eyes upon the northwest, from whence they expected to see, perhaps, the forces of one of Voltan's bastard sons, coming to invade Amlaman and take Japhrian as their capitol. To the east was the Cuergi Mountains, and no man had entered into Amlaman from beyond these in over a thousand years. To the south there was nothing but an endless scape of wild lands, once beloved of the elves, but now abandoned to uncivilized, though mostly peaceful, tribes of men.
By the time the horns rang out and the alarm was raised, an army of some four-thousand Immortal warriors had entered into the fortress through the eastern gate. The captain of the guard gathered what men he could and held back the assault for a time, but ultimately lost his life protecting the women and children of the city as they fled. Some of these made their way into the deserts, some into the mountains, but none of them survived the journey to Japhrian. For the first time in over a thousand years an army of elves had marched to victory. This battle was ended in the middle of Frohest, two months before the Monster of Vestron, with the help of those faithful to him, had breached the wall of Dadron.
'This,' Folran said, 'Is but the beginning. By the end of this century we shall have all of Ilmaria within our grasp, Pelas shall rule in Dadron, and - who can say? - perhaps we shall at last have the strength to avenge ourselves upon the devils of the northern world.'
This last thought could not have occurred to any save for those who had not yet been born ere the destruction of Bel Albor and who had not seen the rage of the dragons.
Chapter II:
Victory
The End of the War
Every torch was lit in Peiraso, and every fireplace was ablaze with warm red fire. It was late summer, and the night sky was cloudless. The stars seemed to sparkle and dance even as did the revelers below. Hundreds of men, women, nobles and peasants broke bread together and feasted, celebrating the deliverance that had come at last to Noras and to the Galvahirne. For Dadron had been spared, Marin had been defeated, and the shadow that lay over Noras had at last been removed. It was the twenty first day of Solest, in the thirty-third year of the fourth millennium of our age.
Speeches were made, songs recited, poems devised and good food was passed around to all. At the center of all, seated side by side in the great hall of Peiraso was Cheftan Biron and his wife Marima, and at their sides sat both their sons. This was, in fact, the first day they had all been together for some 7 years, which is when Dynamis first left home for the east.
The joy of their reunion seemed to flow from them like a river from its mountain streams, and happiness orbited about them in waves and cheers. There was a cool breeze
that evening, and by means of the many windows of Cheft Biron's estate it was allowed to enter Peiraso at will, cleansing as it were, the last heat of summer from the house and the last stench of Cheft Ponteris' treacherous occupation. Much of its splendor had been diminished as Ponteris carried off what goods he wished and sent many other things as bribes to those who were loyal to him - or to those whose loyalty he meant to acquire. Some of these things had been returned, but the greater part of theme were lost in the blaze that consumed Natham, Ponteris and his finely ordered house alike.
Seated beside Dynamis, strong and beautiful as the sun, but cold and somber as the frozen north sea, sat Lyris of Marin. So sorrowful and noble was her face that it was impossible for her to go without notice, and her place beside the heir of Galvahir was also noted. The whispers and rumors soon required an explanation, and Dynamis explained it thus:
'When at last we had made an end of our enemies, chasing the army of Amlaman into the west and the army of Marin into the river, we entered the city of Dadron and joined in the great celebrations that had therein begun. But ere a grin or a cheer would pass from the lips of the men of Galva, the son of Biron was sought out. When it was made known to us that my dear brother was alive and well, and when it was made known what brave deeds he had performed on the field of battle, we at last let loose our teeth to smile, like ten-thousand swords unsheathed for war. A cry we let out as well, greater than any war-cry. But it was a cry of joy. Heaven had vindicated the sons of Galvahir it seemed, and all would soon be set to rights.
'For a week I remained with my men in that city, seeing to its restoration and planning how we might restore the forest of Noras to its former state. But on the ninth day after the battle, I saw Maru, flying high above the city, swooping down to draw attention and then soaring up into the northwest, as if to warn us that our labors were not over. Noras was not yet free. Ponteris, indeed, had no hope of victory; but a hopeless foe is more perilous than one full of ambition. My heart sunk, and I knew that I must make haste to Noras. I took my leave of the lords of the city and of my brother, who insisted I take Novai, my beloved horse, and make all haste to our father.
'Thus, by Novai's mighty hooves I made the journey from Dadron to Noras quicker than ever was done by rider or walker. At first I sought out news, making myself out to be a stranger. But as I drew closer to Oastir-la, the sense of peril that had impelled me to undertake the journey in the first place came upon me again, and, casting aside my traveler's cloak, I rode on toward the Usurper's house openly and full of rage. But as I arrived I was greeted by a spectacle such as I could not have anticipated. The whole house was ablaze, and the whole night sky seemed to be illuminated by it.
'In great desperation I dismounted and rushed into the building. As if guided by some good spirit I made my way through halls that had not yet seen smoke or flame, to the place where my dear mother had been, for all these years, kept captive. Sending her from the house, I made my way to the cellar, where I found Cheftan Biron, lord now of all Noras, imprisoned and left by his guards to perish in the conflagration.
'When at last the Cheftan had been freed from his cell, I led him out of the house to be reunited at last with his dear wife, whom he had not seen for all these years. Joyful as such a reunion was to my heart, I perceived that my work in that place was not yet finished. There on the grass, just where the light of the burning house seemed at last to fail, lay a woman of unsurpassable beauty. I took her up into my arms and carried her back to where I had left my tearful parents. As I walked, she stirred, and said in a whisper, 'Two new stars. Two new stars.'
'Indeed, that very night it was that we first noticed those bright brothers of the night, those shining stars of heaven that seem to have heralded the victory of the Noras over their enemies and the punishment of their enemies.
'For it was not Ponteris only who found justice that night. In the north and in the Southeast, the brigands of Bronning made such a noise and such a clamor of swords that the servants of Olgrost and those faithful to Ponteris were set to flight. Thinking their lives to be worth nothing at all, and being fully convinced that in a life to come they would be duly rewarded, the mercenaries of Titalo, along with a great many others, both of Daevaron and of Noras, fought a fierce battle against all our enemies. Seeing the end that fell upon their master Ponteris, and seeing how the soldiers of Marin were divided against themselves, and seeing also how Amlaman was driven away from Falsis into the west, whatever residue there was of that fell plot disappeared from Noras forever. Cheftan Horan and Cheftan Gornas came to Peiraso with many gifts and with many apologies, but to no avail, they were stripped of their honors and put in chains. So also did we deal with all those who happily served the betrayer of the Galvahirne. If after all of this, any foe yet remained, the return of the army of Galvahir has sent them so deep into hiding that we need fear them no more than we fear the insects of the ground.
'But so it was that upon returning to this land I found this fair and sorrowful maiden of Olgrost. When I had been told her story in full, I offered to send her speedily back to the land of her birth, but she refused, saying, 'To that land of darkness never shall I regress. Here the infant light of heaven first I saw, and so here in this land my days shall pass and end.'
It was not long before rumors, both innocent and obnoxious, began to circulate regarding the former Marshall of Marin and her tenure in the house of Cheftan Biron. When these rumors at last reached her ears she said to Dynamis, 'In the home of your kindly family a guest I shall not long remain.'
To which he answered, reassuring her, and taking her hand into his own, 'It is not my will that you remain always a guest.'
The news of their betrothal was greeted by the people of Noras with great enthusiasm. The great feast of Peiraso, which I have already described, was as much in celebration of this pairing as it was in praise of the victory and restoration of the Galvahirne. To some, indeed, the taking of a noble woman, rescued from the wiles of their eastern enemies, seemed to represent their triumph in human form.
The Lesser Son
Throughout all this time, Dynamis grew in the eyes of the people of Noras. His warrior hands seemed to grow soft and his raiment tidy and his face clean and young. But it was not so for his brother. Daryas, for all that time ate no meat, nor would he drink anything but water. He grew thin and wane, and his eyes were always somber.
In his presence, all happiness seemed to be stolen away, and men found an almost unbreakable gloom to rest upon every room in which he sat. He cheered, indeed, for his brother's betrothal, for there was nothing in the whole world that delighted him more than his brother's happiness. At the great feast he almost seemed to have shaken off his unhappiness when he was, as tradition requires, asked to bless his brother's impending union.
'I have been asked to pray for my brother's health,' Daryas told his listeners. 'But what is it that sets the mark for such things? To what are they compared that are called either sickly or well? Before us this day stands what, to me, has always seemed to be that standard and rule. Dynamis is, to me, that universal and unwavering ideal, that living law, who inspires respect and honor with his every word and deed.
'His happiness, then, we celebrate this night. And glad am I to see him come to it. For all these long years he has sought truth, righteousness, kindness, but never happiness; at least, never his own happiness.
'Hail Dynamis Galvahirne, Biron's son! Proud am I to have stood in your shadow.' A tear fell from his eye, but his voice did not waver as he spoke.
At this the whole estate seemed to burst into songs and cheers, and the celebration lasted long into the night. Great tents were prepared out on the lawn and every room in Peiraso was filled with guests.
'That was well-said, my son,' Marima said to Daryas when all the clamor of the evening had ended. 'I am honored by both of my sons.'
'You are most gracious,' he replied, 'We both know his great worth.'
'Know you not your own worth?' Marima s
aid to him kindly.
'What is worth? I am worthy of my mother's love, I am not doubtful,' he said as he kissed her cheek. 'But what measure is that? For the Fell Usurper of Oastir-la had this as well. No man survives his infancy if he is not at least worthy of his mother's affections and his father's protection. But of what makes men great I am not constructed. And to men like my brother, I am but a shadow.'
'Your brother thinks more of you than that, you know well,' she said sternly.
'Indeed,' Daryas laughed, 'and in that singular mistake of his, in that he thinks better of me, I take comfort, knowing that for all his learning and prudence he is still less than a god.'
'Are you so unhappy to be home at last, my son?' she said with sorrow in her voice.
'My happiness is as a treasure sunk beneath the waves,' he said. 'Do not trouble yourself with it, mother, or you will sink after it in your gloom.'
Greatly troubled by such words, she went at once to her husband. Biron, however, could get no more from Daryas than the assurance that he was indeed, truly glad for his brother's happiness.
That night, and indeed, every night since the ending of the war, Daryas dreamed his terrible dreams. In the waking hours he was little better, hearing, he thought, the fell and powerful voice of Evna accusing him of wickedness. Added to all this was the knowledge that in every way it was Lutrosis who truly bore the mastery over his words, thoughts, and deeds. 'Well hidden, you are, devil, ' he said to himself, 'when many good men surround me I am tempted almost to believe that you are dead.'