Key of Stars

by Bruce R Cordell

  His breath hitched. Moisture filled the corners of his eyes.

  Various knight commanders, courtiers, and other eladrin in the room parted to allow Raidon and Japheth room to approach.

  “Welcome, my son,” said Erunyauvë. Her voice was heart-breakingly familiar. “I’ve missed you. More than words can say, I’ve missed you.” She smiled, and the room grew lighter.

  Raidon went to her.

  The woman looked up at him and raised her arms, but did not rise. He bent and embraced her. Her flowery smell was a door, and a flood of recollections tumbled through. Tears blurred his vision, but a warmth kindled in his stomach that he hadn’t felt in years. It was the warmth of belonging. It was truly his mother before him.

  “Why …?” said Raidon, but his throat constricted.

  The woman took his hand and said, “I’m sorry I left you. Duty called, and … I couldn’t stay. It nearly tore me in two to leave you.”

  Their embrace broke.

  “Duty?” said Raidon, his voice hoarse. He regained a portion of his focus.

  “Yes,” she said. “I had to choose. I chose to take up an obligation I’d long prepared for.” Tears pooled in Erunyauvë’s eyes, shimmering silver.

  “This place, I presume,” Raidon said, gesturing around the tower chamber.

  She nodded. “I am one of the wardens of the Watch on Forever’s Edge,” she said. “I have been for decades—centuries even, at least according to the count of time in the world.”

  “How did you ever come to Telflamm, to be with my father?” Raidon asked. “How was it that you, an eladrin warden of a place like this, and my father, a human; a Shou …?”

  “I wasn’t to have assumed the mantle for many years,” his mother replied. “I traveled the world, and saw so many things.”

  “That’s when you met my father?”

  “Sometimes the heart leads us, not cold reason. He was the kindest of men. And, well … life’s tide washed over me.”

  “Then you left us. You were ‘impelled’?”

  “The warden of this tower died suddenly. I was his heir. The summons came to take my position on this unforgiving throne. I dithered long, because I knew if I left, I’d probably never see you, my son, ever again.” The woman cast her gaze down.

  “You had no choice?”

  “No, I had a choice. Some other could have taken this burden. But wardenship was what I’d spent my life preparing for. I couldn’t not accept it once it was offered, despite the awful timing.”

  “Even though it meant leaving behind a child who would forever wonder what had become of his mother.” It wasn’t a question.

  “And for that, I can never forgive myself.”

  Raidon was confused. “Why would your position here prevent you from coming back to us, even for a short visit?” he said. “It would have been hard to explain, but at least we could have seen you from time to time.”

  “I am the Lady of the Moon. I sit on the Throne of Seeing.”

  Raidon stared at the woman before him, gladness and hurt battling each other. Her posture seemed almost awkward for someone so graceful.

  “Why do you not stand?” he asked.

  “I cannot. Whoever sits on the Throne of Seeing gains great powers of vision and prediction. But she who sits on the throne remains bound to it until the title is relinquished. Its embrace is unflinching.”

  “How awful,” whispered Raidon. “So you left us, knowing that this would be your fate?”

  “It was necessary,” his mother replied. “It is one of the tools that allows us to keep watch on the Citadel of the Outer Void.”

  “But it’s like slavery,” he pressed.

  “No, it is not that, though it kept me from seeing you,” she replied. “At first, I thought I never would again. Later, I saw a chance that, though slim, might one day bring you to me.”

  She offered a hand, and he took it. She squeezed, and he returned the pressure.

  Raidon felt brittle. In that room, beyond all belief, was she whom he’d spent so many years searching for, before the Sovereignty. But Erunyauvë had willingly chosen to separate herself from him. It was almost as though she’d chosen to sacrifice herself. He wondered, though, why she hadn’t even chosen to send a messenger?

  “Well, now I’ve arrived,” he said. Resentment coiled just behind his words. “But a threat to everything rides at my heels. Why did you not call me before now, when we could have spent days, or even years catching up?”

  “Because that is not the way I saw events proceeding. We have only a thin chance of surviving what occurs next, and meddling with that thread … Purposefully muddying the visions shown me by the throne might have changed things and ensured the Sovereignty’s victory.”

  “I see,” he said, though he didn’t, really. “So, my part here is all foreseen.”

  “Not entirely; events spiral out of control,” his mother replied. “I only hoped you would come. And, now that you have, you can help stem the incursion.”

  The monk wanted to start over, to begin his meeting with his mother again, and hear comforting words. He wanted her to be what he’d always imagined: a being of perfect love who’d had no choice but to leave him. Instead, he found a woman with complex motivations of her own, motivations that went beyond love for an absent son.

  “Will you help?” she asked.

  Raidon clung to his focus and nodded.

  Japheth spoke up for the first time. “What was the nature of the attack your knights spoke of at the gate?” he said.

  “A city of aboleths appeared in the void no more than a few bells ago,” Erunyauvë said.

  The warlock gasped.

  “Xxiphu came here?” said Raidon.

  “Just so,” replied the Lady of the Moon. “The wards tried to crush the city, but the ancient cyst proved too strong. The Spire of Winter’s Peace toppled, and the other towers were damaged.”

  “Did anyone else accompany the city?” asked Japheth.

  “Anyone else?” Erunyauvë asked.

  “Companions of ours were observing the city, before it came here. A woman, named Anusha—and her friend Yeva. A ship captain called Thoster, and his crew and vessel …”

  Erunyauvë shook her head. “I didn’t see a sailing craft. Xxiphu appeared several hundred yards off the cliff face. The city was haloed in worldly cloud vapor and sea water. It’s possible a ship was caught up in that detritus. But the city didn’t linger after it appeared; it receded into the dark, toward the Citadel of the Outer Void. If others accompanied the city, they never came here.”

  The warlock scowled, worry plain across his tight face.

  “What about Malyanna?” said Raidon, curious despite his hurt. “Did you see her on Xxiphu’s ramparts?”

  “No,” replied Erunyauvë. “My knights relayed your claim, that the Lady of Winter’s Peace is a traitor.”

  “It’s true,” said Japheth.

  The Lady of the Moon nodded, her demeanor resigned. “Her mentor, the previous Lord of Winter’s Peace, was also a betrayer,” she said. “How tragic; Carnis’s corruption claimed his successor.”

  “Carnis, who you kept in a prison splinter of the Feywild called Stardeep,” said Raidon.

  “Not me,” she replied. “An arm of our order did, at least they did so until the changing of the world, when Stardeep was destroyed, and Carnis with it. His death contributed to Xxiphu rousing.”

  “Others also contributed,” Japheth said, frowning.

  “No one person or event is fully to blame,” said Erunyauvë.

  The warlock nodded. Then his eyes narrowed. “You should keep better track of your bad seeds, Lady,” he said. “Malyanna found the remnants of Stardeep and the petrified body of Carnis. From it, she’s apparently got her Key of Stars, whatever that is. She believes she has what she needs to open the Far Manifold.”

  The eladrin returned Japheth’s gaze with her silver regard until he blinked.

  “You don’t seem surprised,” Ra
idon said.

  “The Throne of Seeing revealed this to me,” Erunyauvë said. “Malyanna retrieved what she sought.”

  She paused a long moment, then turned back to him. “I left you with something to remember me by when I departed,” she said.

  A smiled tugged at the corners of Raidon’s mouth. “And I treasured it,” he said. “My one physical remembrance of you.”

  “You showed its power at the gate, so I know you still have it with you,” Erunyauvë said.

  “After a fashion,” Raidon replied, opening his shirt wider to reveal the Cerulean Sign stitched into his flesh as a spellscar. Its fire flickered and bathed the room in its sapphire glow.

  “The Throne did not reveal this!” she said.

  “It helped me fight the aberrations,” Raidon said. “With it, and the sword Angul forged in Stardeep, and my own modest skills, I kept the Eldest somnambulant when Malyanna tried to rouse it.”

  Composure returned to the seated woman. “You did well, better than you know,” she said. “But the Sign—” She put one hand to her mouth. It worried Raidon to see a hint of doubt cloud his mother’s features.

  “You knew it was more than a remembrance when you gave it to me?” said Raidon.

  “I left a Cerulean Sign for you, as a remembrance only,” his mother said. “Each Sign is precious to us because they are vanishingly rare. I couldn’t think of anything more fitting to leave for you. It was only later, upon taking up my position, the Throne hinted you might one day return it to me when the need for it was most urgent.”

  Japheth broke in, “To see so far into the future, you must command a considerable talent,” he said.

  “Yes. But it’s a lonely power,” Erunyauvë replied. “To see the future, sometimes blurry, sometimes clearly … Destiny can seem so certain that neither fate, nor luck, nor intervention of any kind can alter what is fated. But for all that, the Throne did not reveal the Sign would be bound indelibly to my son’s flesh!”

  Raidon saw tears well anew in Erunyauvë’s eyes. His heart hurt a little to see her distress. “Don’t worry,” he said, pointing at the Sign. “It seems to have all the power it possessed when it was an amulet.”

  “It’s not that,” she replied. “It means your part in this fight is not done, Raidon. I had planned to take this burden from you at the last, relinquish my title, and leave this seat. You’ve had to bear so much, even though you did not choose to do so. But now …”

  The monk put a hand on her arm. “It’s literally been a journey of decades to find you,” he said. “Know I would not turn away now, even though we are reunited. It seems I have a part to play yet, and I mean to fulfill it. The death of my own child still lays heavy on me.”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  Silence stretched in the court.

  “My lady,” said Japheth. “What is the Watch going to do now that Xxiphu has appeared?”

  “You saw the activity in the courtyards?” Erunyauvë asked. “We are preparing to storm the void and go after the city, of course. We must eject the Eldest from the Citadel, and Malyanna, and take the Key of Stars from them.”

  “May I accompany you?” said Japheth. “I’m worried what has become of our companions. And my power is useful against these foes.”

  Erunyauvë turned her eyes on the warlock again. Under their regard, he reddened, but did not look away.

  “Yes,” she said. “You are touched by the void, but not consumed by it. The Throne tells me you have a part to play too, but I can’t tell for good or ill—your pact corrupts my sight. It is allied with the same power that inhabits Xxiphu.”

  The court murmured at the lady’s words. She flicked her gaze out across them, and the voices quieted. “But if Raidon counts you as an ally, I do too,” she said.

  The monk thought of the time he had tried to stab the warlock with Angul, but kept his peace.

  Japheth coughed. “Thank you,” he said. “Then, we should go after Xxiphu as quickly as possible!”

  “The hours flow more slowly here at the Edge than in the world or its echoes,” Erunyauvë said. “Beyond the discontinuity, they move slower still. This has been our one advantage over the centuries, as we’ve watched. It means we have the luxury of preparing a force large enough to have some hope of winning through.”

  “How much time before we leave?” Japheth asked.

  “Not long, but … enough to present you both with gifts.”

  “What?” Japheth said.

  Erunyauvë motioned with one hand.

  Two courtiers parted from the press of the court and advanced. Each carried a chest.

  The Lady of the Moon said, “Raidon, as I said, I saw there was a chance you would arrive here, you and at least one ally. I had planned on relieving you of the burden of the Cerulean Sign, but I suspected you might still wish to accompany the forces I sent, since I would have personally been leading them.”

  “You?” Raidon blurted out

  She smiled. “From where do you think you got your fighting instinct?” she said. “Before I took this seat, I was considered the most accomplished warrior in the tower.”

  “Oh,” Raidon replied.

  “Anyway, I prepared a couple of things,” Erunyauvë continued. “Even though I won’t be with you, these may help you in the Citadel of the Outer Void.”

  The courtiers set down their burdens.

  The first chest contained a pair of matched gauntlets, thin and supple, and dyed the color of the sky.

  “My son,” Erunyauvë said, “these will increase your already considerable strength. You may call upon their power three times before it is spent.”

  Raidon accepted the gloves, and drew them on over his hands. They fit perfectly, and he could feel vitality tingling at his fingertips. “Thank you, Mother,” he said.

  She nodded, then pointed to the second chest.

  It contained a rod of darkly oiled wood. Japheth pulled it forth. The rod flashed with the green of leaves in sunlight, or grass blowing across a rain-wet plain. The smell of growing things and cool wind briefly played around the chamber. The warlock gave a tentative smile.

  “This is the Rod of Silvanus,” said the Lady of the Moon. “It is a reminder of the natural world. Its mere presence unsettles aberrations. However, for you, Japheth, I foretell it will serve an even more important function—it will anchor you to Toril and its echoes. When you stand before the Far Manifold, and your pact pulls at your mind, remember the Rod of Silvanus.”

  Japheth blinked. “I … I shall,” he said. “Thank you, lady.”

  Erunyauvë clapped, and a bell chimed in synchrony. The note hung in the air, swelling until it was a thunderclap that must have been audible across the Edge and in the other watchtowers.

  “Listen to me now; listen!” she said, her voice somehow energized by the bell’s lingering volume.

  “The forces of the Watch are marshaled and ready. The time has come to cease our preparations, and act! The battle over the Edge is about to begin. Upon this fight depends the survival of more than just our own lives; upon it depends the welfare of the world itself. And against us is arrayed an enemy whose power is beyond measure, whose fury and might would rip asunder any lesser force.

  “The Sovereignty sees its chance to open the Far Manifold. If successful, all the world and its echoes, including the Feywild, will be washed away as if they had never been. All will be lost, forever.

  “We do not fight against simple oppression, or mere dominion. We fight for our right to live! Our right to exist!

  “So take up your lances and your swords, your wands and your spells, and your courage. Fight with all of your heart and all of your mind. If we succeed, the continued survival of world and its echoes will be your badge of honor! And forever after, until the world is renewed, the wise will say, ‘they were the saviors of us all!’ ”

  A throaty yell reverberated through the court. Raidon found he was cheering just as loudly as the eladrin knights. A grin was plaster
ed across Japheth’s face. And Erunyauvë smiled. She raised her arms to receive the court’s appreciation.

  When the noise died away, the room cleared as knights found the exits.

  Only a few servitors, Raidon and Japheth, and the Lady of the Moon remained.

  “Raidon,” said Erunyauvë.

  The monk leaned into another embrace. Her smile slipped. “As skilled as are the forces of the Watch, and the various wardens who will lead our knights, you are more powerful still, in part because you bear a Sign,” she said. “It may be that in the end, the conflict will come down to you and your compatriots. Do your best to … keep Malyanna from opening the Far Manifold.”

  “That is our goal,” he replied.

  She nodded. Raidon made to pull away, but she held his hand. “It’s truly good to see you again,” she said. “Despite seeing the possibility of your coming here, I couldn’t let myself hope in case that future played me false.”

  Raidon had no words for her. He just held her hand. In his grip was the culmination of a quest he’d begun the day she’d left him. Neither of them wanted the moment to end.

  The pain he felt at her revelation, that’d she’d chosen the Watch on Forever’s Edge instead of him, was already fading. Erunyauvë had chosen duty over parenting, but standing here at the far end of that decision, it didn’t seem so poor a choice. He brought her hand to his cheek, and though no words passed his lips, he forgave her.

  Lightness blew through his soul like spring’s return.

  “Mother, you’ve given me even more than you know,” he said. “I feel revived. That you’d never forgotten me was always my fondest hope. Knowing it’s true is a boon of incalculable value. Thank you.”

  Fresh moisture glistened in Erunyauvë’s eyes. “I’m so proud of you, you know,” she said.

  “I know,” Raidon replied.

  “Well, then,” she said, squeezing his hand hard. “Though time is on our side, it still slips away without pause. I wish …”

  “I’ll go.”

  “But come back to me, Raidon. I’ll be waiting for you. We have so much to catch up on.”

  He kissed her forehead. Without his focus, he would have been unable to leave the presence of his mother. As it was, his arms shook inside their silk sleeves as he left the chamber.