by Ben Marshall
The Eastern Elf held his left hand out, the palm facing towards the mare, and a silver light rose from his fingertips to encompass the beast’s head. The horse felt her fear depart at the first touch of the soft light, her mind filled only with the image of her pasture back home, and Katchanga slowly brought his hand to stroke her face as he led her into a shimmering image of the Citadel’s courtyard that had materialised while the light had drawn all the onlookers’ attention. His own mount shimmered softly before tremendous wings once more flexed at its sides, the thick armour sent back into the confines of the creature’s boundless imagination, before it once more took to the air and soared through the darkest hour of the night, returning to the Vale until it heard the call of its master.
***
“Rothil, son of Baloran, your strength is restored and your mind has been given several days to consider whether or not you shall attend our meeting. By resorting to the methods we did I hope it has been shown how important we consider your participation to be.” The Valinian could only groan as the early rays of sunlight struck his closed eyelids, the voice of the Head Councillor breaking into the dreamless sleep which had lingered through the night.
“I shall not be forced into anything, and I would have thought my decision would have been respected if I am so important.”
“We need you to prevent a tragedy that shall affect all the lands, while you need this opportunity to gain your people’s freedom, without the deaths of countless warriors in a futile war that shall never be resolved. Your decision cannot be respected, if it is formed through hatred and anger clouding your judgement. Now we offer you the choice once more, and hope you will consider the fact that you are already here and your obligation shall be ended with the outcome of the meeting. By sunset you shall be free of us until Fate and Destiny decree we shall meet again, whether for good or ill.”
“From what I recall your meeting is where I must decide whether or not I am to be a pawn in this game of war between Katchanga and whomsoever is claimed to be his counterpart. I can tell you now that I am no one’s pawn, and never shall I consent to be so.”
“Then you do not see that you are already serving Moragil; for without your participation the lands of your race within the Southern Reaches of this island shall remain divided, and open for conquest through his foul manipulations. At the very least, by participating you can aid your people by helping bring about his demise, at the very most, you might also bring about their liberation from the rule of the Camentari. I shall ask again before noon, so that you might think further on just how highly you truly value the freedom of Valinia over your pride.”
***
Cecilan found Katchanga within the same garden where Aurephian Leavale’s initiation had taken place, resting upon one of the boughs of the rowan tree that dominated the Northern wall, a set of pipes held to his lips as he played a soft tune, the melody generating thoughts of looking down from a mountain peak, over a wide plain cut by a series of clear tributaries joining a mighty river. The golden-skinned Elf’s eyes were closed as he played, as if the conjured images were locked within his mind as he recreated the beauty. He didn’t react as the Forest Elf approached, remaining intently focussed upon his music.
“Does such a place truly exist, as your music brings it to my mind?” Cecilan spoke at length, unwilling to end the wonderful performance or the tranquillity that had settled upon the garden.
“It is a small region where the Orc Trails begin upon the Western shoulder of the mountains that surround the homeland of my birth; but I do not think thee were drawn here by my pipes, Lord Cecilan. What matter is locked at the front of thy mind that concerns me?”
“I am wondering at how you feel towards my sister, because your distance from her at every chance meeting these past few days is hurting her, and I want to know why.”
“Thou deserve a truthful answer, though I do not know how thou shall receive it. I cannot bear the sight of her, for each time I look upon that scar she had made I am forced to remember the one I caused all those years ago. I cared for her deeply then, and find it intolerable even now to feel the guilt and pain that overwhelms my heart with each sight. I wish her no pain at my expense, but I have things occurring right now that demand my attention, without the distraction of trying to appease her. I seek the same peace I am sure she does, though I cannot see how we shall both find it in the same place, and all I can do is hope we find some hint of it soon. That is all I shall say on the matter.”
With this the Lord of the Vale resumed his playing, though this time the music seemed to have changed its source of inspiration to something that fired the passions within his heart rather than merely a fondly remembered view. What this source was Cecilan could not imagine at first, though he hoped in his own heart that it was Halarniel, as he exited the garden with his mind wondering how he could protect her from further misery while informing her of what Katchanga had told him.
***
“What are you saying Cecilan?” Halarniel demanded angrily, the rage sounding all the more terrible as it caused her voice to change so dramatically from its normal tone. Tears were beginning to run down her cheeks as she gazed into her brother’s eyes, silently willing him to say he had lied.
“That is what Katchanga said, dear sister, though I wish it weren’t. I don’t believe it is truly bad, because it shows he still cares deeply for you, but the truth still is that he cannot face you without feeling pain or sorrow over what happened.”
“But it wasn’t his fault!”
“What difference does that make? He believes that it was, and no amount of pleading shall convince him otherwise, because what he became that dark night is a part of who he is. Perhaps in time he shall accept the hand that he has been dealt for what it truly is, because there are some virtues it seems to me that he ignores, but until then you shall only hinder any chance of reconciliation between the two of you by trying to attract him again.”
“Then what am I to do? I can’t continue unless we have things as they were!”
“You must harden your heart, as indeed you must anyway to do what you may have to during the tasks that await you upon the road ahead, until you know better how deep his feelings still run. Your head must rule if you are to live to see yourself reunited with him, and that can only happen if you stop trying to fulfil your heart’s desires. Katchanga is striving to do the same, so that this mission shall not fail, and so must you or I shall lose the only family I have.”
“You have Yanaliel in your life. Do not think I have been blind to your feelings and actions over these years. You have what I lost, so how can you say I should give up on it?”
“I am not saying that you should give up, only that you should wait until the opportune moment, and shield yourself from torment you cannot bear. We both buried our parents after the battle in front of the Dark Fortress, I do not want to bury you as well. We cannot both go on the journey ahead, and so I shall have to return to Faluvii when the meeting concludes, but I shall be with you in spirit and will always be there if you should need solace, when the pressure of hiding your love becomes too great, but please do not let your life be thrown away. How could Katchanga live with that? By trying too hard to win him back you risk pushing him too far away for anything save the intervention of the Powers to grant you happiness.”
A bell sounded from somewhere within the Citadel, and Cecilan wiped the tears from his sister’s face before kissing her upon the head.
“Let us go and hear of what must be done, before we are free of the curse that hangs over Naturien. Everything has a way of working out, you will see in time.”
***
Even as the peal of the bells finished their announcement of noon, the final tones still reverberating from wall to wall within the House of Healing and the wide streets beyond, Rothil Morambeth turned to face the golden door at the farthest end of the chamber. His lips fixed into a deep scowl to see the Council of Elders enter the chamber accompanied by a score of a
rmoured guards. Each warrior held a long, slender sword in his hand, a curved shield in front of him as they formed an arc behind the rulers of their land, matching his expression with warning glares of their own.
“The time has come, Rothil son of Baloran, to make your decision at last. I beseech you one last time to show the wisdom of your forebears and come willingly to the meeting that shall be held in mere minutes.”
The Half-Elf looked from face to face for several long seconds, scrutinising each pleading glance from the Councillors, the prepared state of the guards that stood behind them.
“I told you before that I shall not be the pawn of any being. That still includes Katchanga and this bloodthirsty crusade of his.”
“Yet you are a pawn whatever your decision if that is your logic, because you aid Moragil if you refuse us, deny yourself the opportunity that is offered. You must set aside your pride, or you shall forever be a pawn. All we ask is for you to come and listen to what we must say.”
The Valinian surveyed the Fire Elves again. He had to confess to himself that he was intrigued as to what could be so important, why the actions of the past weeks had been deemed so necessary, but he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was losing the freedom to decide his own fate. He still felt as though he was choosing to die if he consented to be a part of that meeting, but he knew what he had to do.
“I shall attend your meeting, but I will not be seated beside anyone from a nation that is set against my own. I will not sit and listen to your words while a knife is plunged into my back. If you can guarantee me this then I shall listen, otherwise your request is denied.”
“Lord Katchanga suspected as much, and the arrangements have already been made. May the Powers bless you for listening to wisdom rather than maintaining your pride.”
“Before I go anywhere, tell me how my people fare in my absence.”
“Katchanga told me to pass on the news that the Camentari are being ordered to withdraw from the north of Valinia, so that the southern garrisons might be strengthened, and fresh soldiers are to be sent to Berinan. The war goes ill for Aithan Curith of Camentar, and its end comes swiftly.”
“Now I can attend your meeting with my heart full of gladness that my enemy is facing defeat.”
“Gladness at another being’s downfall is not something to boast of, lest others should do likewise when you yourself face the same bitterness and hardship. Upon the road ahead you shall have need of compassion instead of scorn, but we have tarried enough. Come with us to the Citadel, where the fate of more than just your nation or your life shall be decided.”
Gathering For Periand
October 19th, 1190
The meeting was held within the same room where Lonariel had revealed the discovery of the amulet, with each of the representatives reclining in the ornate chairs of gold lining the white table. A plinth had been placed in the centre of the table, the polished wooden artefact currently with only a cloth of blue velvet upon it. The Councillors sat across from the invited people, leaving just two seats left unoccupied. Kerial was the first to notice the absence of a Fire Elf within the room, save for the Elders and the attendants, who were bringing platters of fruit and salted meats to be placed beside the pedestal.
“We have a few minutes before the final members of this meeting join us, as Lord Katchanga has requested time to introduce his latest recruit into the world he shall come to know, and the cause he now must dedicate his life to serving.”
Thorengol could not hide a snort of derision, the ideals behind the Eastern Elf’s actions and lifestyle unfathomable given the dark deeds of his past. To even consider that such a monster like Katchanga could claim such noble intent, could hold vanity enough to proclaim so high a purpose, was simply absurd, and any who believed such blatant falsehood were clearly insane. All eyes fixed upon him at the outburst, some curious but most glaring in open hatred. There was only a moment’s pause before Halarniel growled a response, causing the Druid to stare as if noticing her for the first time.
“Do not mock a Guardian of Nature, particularly when you yourself are supposed to be dedicated to Her preservation, yet instead hide in your walls of stone and ignore your sacred duty.”
“I fulfil my duties as I see fit, and am not accountable to you, She-Elf. I do not believe the myths that surround the Eastern Elf, and your words shall change nothing . All I know is that this Guardian has not been able to prevent the burning of forests in the fires of industry, so clearly his abilities are not equal to the task…or Nature’s power is fading.”
“You have not seen White Tiger in action, so how do you know the scope of his abilities? You have not been spoken to by Nature, so how do you know that Her plans have failed in some way?”
Dareinax’s questions cut across the leaders of the Forest Elves as they glared angrily at the impudent and foolish boy, appearing to the others as if they were ready to respond with force as well as words at his mockery of their beliefs. The barbarian towered over the Druid as his solemn voice silenced all other arguments, his arms crossed across his bare chest and his eyes narrowed in an obvious conveyance of quiet anger, yet Thorengol met the stern gaze steadily.
“How many here have seen more than feats performed by the lowliest of wizards as cheap stunts and entertainment? If he is truly powerful then why hasn’t he made even a show of attempting to prevent the destruction of the world? I can, at least, say that I am trying to change the ways of Orthilan, but I do not need to resort to heavy-handed tactics such as the rumours claim the demonic Katchanga to use. I do it-”
“As a hypocrite from both sides of the argument,”
The gathered citizens, Elf, Man and Dwarf alike, twisted to face the wide doors to the chamber as Katchanga’s unmistakable voice interrupted the tirade, appearing at the threshold with Aurephian Leavale close behind, now looking resplendent in a breastplate and arm guards of the strange metal all Vale warriors wore. Stamped across the left half of the breastplate, occasionally obscured beneath the shimmering cape hanging from his shoulders by golden clasps, was the shining figure of a boar; the fearsome visage designed with its tusks facing towards his right. Thorengol shuddered with the suddenness of the pair’s silent approach, though the young warrior had been audible save for the ensuing argument, which had drowned out all other sounds from within the Citadel, and stared at the golden-skinned and ancient Elf with apprehension as he walked silently to the seat upon the right of the Council members, continuing in a calm voice as though he had borne witness to the opening of the argument.
“To speak of serving Gaia whilst forsaking Her generous gifts, in favour of the lifestyle taken by those who should seek to convert, rendering thyself unable to lead by example. To not suggest compromise that ensures the preservation of all ideals, in a changing world that is incomprehensible to many, causing thee to be ostracised when thou should be working to gain respect from thy nation’s rulers, to bring them enlightenment. Thee speak of my powers, and those of Nature, as inadequate and fading, yet still thee must note that thine eyes see before thee representatives of Camentar, Berinan and Valinia, though the three nations hold aggression and even hatred in their hearts. Despite a war, and the threat to his security that Aithan Curith perceives, the young Prince Enyatar of Camentar came voluntarily to this meeting, and now does not argue with those whom his people would consider as enemies. On the other hand a Druid, and therefore one who should be dedicated to Nature, argues against the Forest Elves who champion Her cause, and attempts to tarnish my own reputation. Such pettiness is low even by the standards of the most vice-ridden of Men, bordering on Orcish behaviour.”
The look of anger mixed with humiliation upon the Druid’s face at the words of Katchanga, though he silently wondered at how long the Elf had been listening out of sight, made the gathered representatives all smile, though those that weren’t from Faluvii tried to hide their smirks at the youth’s discomfort, and hastily the Councillors stood to signal the commencement of the meeting be
fore the situation dissolved completely.
“Now that we are all present, perhaps we should begin by explaining exactly why you have all been summoned. The simplest way I can put it, for those that haven’t been made aware of the basic motivation for our actions, is that a relic from the Age of Conflicts, a weapon of great power for destruction, has been uncovered and brought to us. At the same time, we received word that a powerful member of the Dark Tide, the terrible force which swept through your lands all those years ago, has taken over dominion of the most powerful of Dragon-kin, just as Moragil the Faceless has taken over the throne where Carrassiel once sat. Current information is unclear as to what these two beings plan, but it is becoming all the more likely that the dragons are beginning to broaden their territory by waging war upon another species. Such a meeting of powerful creatures causes destruction and desolation in its own right, and the threat of attacks upon any of the other races is cause for alarm, but our suspicions have also been aroused as to what Moragil plans to achieve. The relic was created by him in the Age of Conflicts, so it is an obvious belief that he would seek to reclaim it, yet if he is allowed to possess it once more he will almost certainly try and do what Carrassiel could not.”