by Jake Yaniak
Then Paley turned to Duri, and took him by the hand, saying, 'Come Duri, you will see your father soon. But there is much that must come to pass ere that day.' Duri looked once more upon Rahdmus, and at last seemed to recognize the face he had seen in the old world, ere the wrath of the dragons had rent his soul from his flesh. As Paley led him away, the storm seemed to vanish, and Rahdmus could see for a moment the country into which his son was at last to reside. Ere the sight of them vanished away, Paley turned to him and said, 'Go now to Heyan, and you shall receive a great sorrow and a joy, and a new task, such as will bring you to the end of your days.' The great spirit then put out his hand and pointed to the west. 'There is one secret that Lord Havoc never revealed to the Prince of Amlaman, when he was tutor and instructor; a secret that was humiliating to you, but which was the seed that brought forth the fruit of your redemption. It was upon that foundation that your life, as it is now, has been laid. And do not worry over the scales of the gods, for the Eternal One will take care of their balance himself.'
In due course, Rahdmus came at last to Heyan, and it seemed as if his memory of that place was restored in equal proportion to his distance therefrom. When he came to its eaves he remembered old Effren, who had murdered his own wife and daughter, yet who lived in honor and luxury. As he passed through Soleya and followed the old trail north to Fenwer he remembered old Hashias who had lived with his stricken daughter Deria and with the faithful Sarya. He shut his eyes as he remembered all the trials that sorry family had endured. 'How is it that I have forgotten you? As I approach, it seems as though no time at all had passed; but through all these past few years I have not thought of you.'
When he realized how long it had been since his last visit, his heart grew anxious. Knowing their poverty, and the shame under which they had long dwelt, and knowing further how he had been their only support, he grew more and more despondent as he drew near their old home. The men of the village could tell him nothing concerning their fate. 'Are you to tell me that nobody has sought the hand of the daughter of Hashias? She must be approaching her thirty-fourth year.'
'Some have inquired,' was the answer he received. 'But she would not be parted from her invalid sister, and no man would take upon themselves such a burden.'
This response gave him all the more reason for concern. But when at last Rahdmus came around the bend in the road he was surprised to see that some repairs had been made to the house, and that the roof and the upper floor had been restored. 'What is this? Who would have taken pity on them in my stead?'
When Sarya saw her visiter she fell to her knees in the doorway and wept over his feet. 'Blessed are your feet, my lord, for we had almost despaired of life altogether!'
'But what is this?' Rahdmus asked, taking her arms in his and raising her to her feet. 'The roof fixed? The house mended? Who has done all this?'
She stepped away from him slightly, with a look of confusion in her eyes. 'It was your companion,' she answered. 'He returned to us now and again, asking if we had seen or heard any news of you. When he came he was as liberal with us as you had been, and he said that we should not thank him, but save our gratitude for you should you happen to return.'
Rahdmus stood like a man of stone for a while, fighting his tears. In the end he burst out with a tearful laugh, 'Cruel flesh! Always you mock our nobility!'
'I don't understand,' she said, looking very concerned for him.
'Do not worry for me,' he answered. 'I am not worthy of your sympathies.'
She bowed low, touching her face to the ground, as if to show him otherwise.
'Rise, Sarya!' he commanded. 'You shall never bow to me again.' He then threw aside his cloak and lay his own face to the ground. There he remained for a time, with his eyes shut tight.
'This was my one secret,' he whispered to himself, 'that I could not, for all my bravado, escape my own sympathies.'
When he had recovered himself, he entered the house, and soon learned that Hashias had fallen ill and died the previous winter, leaving Sarya alone with her invalid sister Deria, who suffered still under her great afflictions. 'Will you help us,' Sarya pleaded, 'even as you have done so many times before?'
'Nay,' he answered. 'not as before.'
He remained in Fenwer from that day forth. He first betook himself to the restoration of the orchards and gardens that had once prospered on that land. When the next spring came he took Sarya as his wife and built for her and her sister a new home, such as only the hands of an elven prince could build. It was not gaudy or elegant, as were the homes in Dadron of old, but rather like a Noras cabin, but built to such precise measure and such perfect form that it seemed almost unworldly to look upon.
There in a new home, a new life began for him, and the immortality of the elvenkind seemed to vanish away from him in proportion to the love he bore toward his wife. There they grew old together, caring for her sister and raising several children of their own.
The children of Rahdmus were told nothing concerning their lineage until they had reached an age of maturity, and even then they were told to conceal the matter from everyone else. The health and wisdom they have grown to possess, however, has betrayed their ancestry, and by the time of this writing their reputation in Heyan was such that it is rumored among some that the immortals have returned to Tel Arie. But time will dispel this error by better proofs than I care to bring forth in this place.
Had Solran harkened to the warnings of Rahdmus when he had been given the opportunity, the elves would have either come to their old stronghold as saviors or perished outside the walls of Dadron as heroes. But they instead chose to reveal themselves to the world as murderers and villains, slaying all who dwelt in Ilmalam without provocation and oppressing the southern marches of Amlaman without mercy, all in hopes that they would see power pass once again to the elves. But all of their hopes were dashed to pieces when Simnahi, the emissary of Bralahi, was seen by their scouts riding into the south like a gale. He told them nothing about what had transpired in the north - for he had been at Sten Agoni when the gods came to an end. Had he stopped to warn them, they would have fled the region at once and vanished forever into the mountains. But they remained, and sought out news from Japhrian. Simnahi's face was pale with shock, and he could not find the words to recount what had happened. He rode into the south blindly and wildly, forgetting both his allies and his former hope.
By the time they were fully aware of what had taken place, they found themselves surrounded on all sides by warriors from Amlaman, led now by Lenatho thos Amlaman.
The elves fought to the end with all their power, but they could not withstand their enemies for long. Those who perished not were taken in bonds to fester and die in the prison of Amla City. Some, indeed, fled into the mountains and returned to their hidden kingdom, but Solran himself was slain during the battle. Even as I write the nation of Amlaman is yet at war with the elves of Solsis, and time alone will reveal their fate.
Into the Sea
The fall of Agonistes had been as sudden as it was dramatic. But the worship of Pelas continued for a time in the old temple of Dadron. But the life and beauty of the ancient religion of the elves had been stripped away by both the death of their god and by the doctrines of the Galvahirne, who were first among the people of Weldera to adapt themselves to the ideas of the Nihlion of Solsis.
Soon these doctrines came to Dadron also, and by their influence the people of that mighty city were compelled either to worship the Eternal One or at least to abandon their god of stone. Some of their priests made an attempt to call this Eternal One of the Nihlion by the name of Pelas, but their endeavors ended in failure and their preaching sounded empty and hollow even to their own ears.
In the end, the Temple was abandoned and its stones put to better use. Rahdmus and I met once again by the shores of the Frozen Sea in the middle of Messest as the last year of the century drew to its close. The great idol of Pelas had at last outlived its welcome, and, lest it become a s
tumbling stone for men of other ages, it was resolved by Lord Narghelu, the grandson of Lord Akellnarva, that it must be cast into the sea. Rahdmus had aged quite a bit by then, his face now matching his silver hair. I could tell that the life of the immortals was fading within him.
'You look almost as old as I,' I jested, comparing his ancient silver hair to my own hair, which was now quite long and gray.
He smiled and asked, 'Have you ever had, in all these years, any news of your old friend?'
'No,' I answered. 'But the deeds we have seen have been rumored in Dominas and, to a lesser extent, even in Kharku. I am not utterly without hope for him, though I do not now hope to see him again; in this life at the least. If he will not return to the Nihlion, perhaps the ways of the Nihlion will find him where he now dwells.'
'I hope and pray that he will be among those to be restored in that day. Even as I have such hope for myself. For I am convinced that if aught can be made of my own sorry life, then there are none who are utterly destitute of hope.'
'Indeed,' I answered, 'To live is to have hope.'
End of Book V
About The Author
I was born and raised in New Jersey; and I am New Jerseyan through and through, wherever life may take me.
For Christmas one year my parents bought me a Lord of the Rings computer game. I started playing it and was so inspired by the story that I put the game aside and did not touch it again until I had read The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. Those books sparked within me a love of reading in general and a love of fantasy literature in particular.
My favorite genre, however, is philosophy, particularly as it relates to ethics and metaphysics. This, together with my love of the fantastic, is the inspiration for my writing.
In my reading I have seen how ideas affect history. For this reason it has been important to me to not simply tell a story, but to show how the characters interact with different ideologies and ethical dilemmas. I want my readers to at least understand, even if they do not sympathize with, the villains of the story.
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Table of Contents
Dedicated to my beloved wife Sarah for her unfailing love and companionship, my parents for instillin...
Table of ContentsIntroduction
Introduction
In my account of what has lately been called the Welderan War, I have found it necessary to consider ...
Book I:
Chapter I:
Chapter II: Mityai's TestimonyMorning Departure
Chapter III: Beautiful Peiraso
Chapter IV:
Chapter V:
Chapter VI:
Chapter VII: The Conjurers' DuelThe Island
Chapter VIII:
Book II: The Fell WolfChapter I:
Chapter I:
Chapter II:
Chapter III:
Chapter IV:
Chapter V:
Chapter VI: LeonaraHer Father
Chapter VII: History Revealed
Chapter VIII:
Chapter IX: Legion's Head
Book III: The Vestron MonsterChapter I:
Chapter I:
Chapter II: NathamThe Farm
Chapter III:
Chapter IV:
Chapter V: The Other OutcastsOlgalver
Chapter VI: In Marin QuendomBattle Sounds
Chapter VII:
Chapter VIII:
Book IV:
Chapter I: PaleyThe Vision
Chapter II: Evna
Chapter III:
Chapter IV: The Monster Rages In Falsis
Chapter V:
Chapter VI: The Hidden PeopleSolsis
Chapter VII: The Prophet
Chapter VIII:
Chapter IX: Dadron BesiegedThe Brothers
Chapter X:
Chapter XI:
Chapter XII: The Siege EndsImpatience
Chapter XIII: NathamThe Statue
Book V: The Siren's SongChapter I: The Elves AwakenThe Star-Seer
Chapter I: The Elves AwakenThe Star-Seer
Chapter II: Victory
Chapter III:
Chapter IV: Coronan RevisitedDaruvis
Chapter V:
Chapter VI: The River MeretrisLutrosis
Chapter VII:
Chapter VIII: Fell Wolf
Chapter IX:
Chapter X:
About The Author