“How can you tell the difference?” Eliesmore's eyebrows knitted together.
“You see, one can tell White and Black Steeds apart by their auras. White Steeds typically have a bright glimmer about them. Even with the animals, their coats and feathers are usually lighter and brighter in color. For instance, the white horses, white wolves, and white panthers have brighter colors. Even the woodland creatures have lighter brown fur, and some have streaks of white. The Black Steeds are darker in color, yet some White Steeds never shed their dark coats. One should never judge based on color alone, which is why words and deeds are more important. If you can, always look for the glimmer of their aura. There is also the show of power the Black and White Steeds display. The Black Steeds derive their abilities from the Changers and draw mysterious power from their dark deeds. Most of the power among White Steeds is hidden with the immortals. With the aggression of the Black Steeds, I fear even the most powerful ones of us will continue to live in hiding. This is why ‘Song’ needs to come true.” Irnidrathe sighed.
Eliesmore thought of asking her what “Song” was, but she seemed lost in contemplation. “Eliesmore.” Irnidrathe turned back to him. “You have not decided. What are you? A White or Black Steed?”
Surprised, Eliesmore stuttered out: “I want to be a White Steed because you are and my mother is…I think...”
Irnidrathe looked at him sharply. “Maybe one day you will choose for the right reason: for yourself instead of for others. Once you have decided, your quest to help others will begin.”
Eliesmore said nothing.
Irnidrathe tumbled out of her sitting position and floated up. “Come, Eliesmore, young one. Let me show you the crystal stream.”
Eliesmore cast a last glance at the gems, reluctant to tear his eyes away, although they overwhelmed him. Sighing as they winked at him, he followed Irnidrathe down another passageway. The trickling water he had heard earlier grew louder as they entered a darker cavern. It was close to the end of the cave, and if he looked carefully, he could slip out of it entirely through a back entrance. The gray stone was slippery and wet, and green moss collected in the rocks. Water trickled from the ceiling, dripping onto rocks and rolling with a fluid movement into a stream. Although the water seemed to stand relatively still, it flowed out of the cave, turning into an underground current.
“This is the crystallized stream, which flows into some of the lands of the Green People,” Irnidrathe explained. "They are far-seeing, and sometimes, looking in, we catch a glimpse of what might happen in the future.”
Eliesmore walked towards the waters. “How did this come to be here?”
“If you notice, every night it rains and the Rainidrains come down in the moisture. Most of the time the rain gathers here and drips into this stream. Now look and see what your future reveals.”
Eliesmore knelt and leaned over the water, gasping in surprise when he found his reflection staring back at him. He gazed for a few moments, waiting for something to happen while the crystal stream took its time. He looked until he was no longer looking at himself and the water seemed to transform. He was older. Solemn. In one hand, he held up a sword, the Jeweled Sword he’d found ten years ago. Eliesmore leaped back from the water, a hand clapped to his chest and his mouth open. “What does it mean?” he asked Irnidrathe.
She was quiet.
As he looked again he thought he saw blue eyes watching him. Then a voice came out of nowhere, fading into the sound of the water. “Beware. Do not let your strong will overrule and destroy the future meant for you.”
Frightened, Eliesmore could only stand frozen as he watched the scene fade, the eyes giving him a last warning look until only the clear water was left. Aghast, he turned to Irnidrathe. “Did you hear? Did you see?” he demanded.
Irnidrathe jumped off a ledge of the wall where she had been standing, waiting. “What you saw and what you heard is for you to know and you alone. It should encourage you; there is the promise of a future.”
Eliesmore stood mutely, letting her words sink in. He did not like the strange ways of the Iaen. “What do you know about my future?” he asked, his guard up.
Irnidrathe cocked her head, considering before she answered. “I do not know your future, others may. I know as much about your future as you know about mine. Come, Eliesmore, young one, do not distrust.”
Eliesmore sighed. “I do not like it when others know more about me than I know about myself.”
“Eliesmore, you will learn. You will know soon; now is not the time. Come, we will go back outside and away from mysteries you do not understand. I will tell you about the time I was invited to dance in the realm of the shining stars.”
“You were!” Eliesmore exclaimed as they wandered out of the mysterious passage of the cave.
“It was decades ago before the South World turned dark, and the stars invited me into their realm. Come now, for it is an outside story.” As they reached the entrance of the cave, Irnidrathe pointed up to where there was an opening in the treetops. “See them? The circle of stars?” Her face glowed.
Eliesmore followed her gaze upward. Each time he danced with the Iaen, he thought he saw the stars spinning. Now he knew for sure.
“One night, I was late in coming to the dance and stayed along the edge of the glade when a star fell beside me. Its enormity dwarfed me, but all the same, it invited me to come up and dance with them. It placed me among its glorious locks, and with a leap, we went up to the realm of the shining stars. Did you know there are star people as well and other creatures? I do not remember all of it; only there was more freedom and space. I felt light and delighted. We invited the moon; it said another time, and all night long we danced. Even as far away from this world as we were, it seemed we could still hear the music as if we were merely a few feet above the creatures of the wood dancing.” The glory faded out of Irnidrathe’s face. “Those events took place over a hundred years ago. Did you know Eliesmore, the animals never used to come dance with us? Until one day we were visited by Idrains from the Eastern World. They said they always invited the animals. Now we have invited you. I think the time of the separation between mortals and immortals is ending.”
“I wish I could stay.” Eliesmore's shoulders slumped as he hoped an invitation would be extended.
In response, Irnidrathe flitted to his shoulder and stood upon it, her breath tickling his ear. “Don’t give up; you will come again. Look, it grows late. Midnight has passed. Go home and sleep Eliesmore. Come out and dance with us tomorrow.”
“Until tomorrow then,” Eliesmore said as he started walking through the forest.
The Nigidrain flew with him, her jewels twinkling, bringing a smile to his face. He traced his final steps through the woods on his way home.
The next night was one Eliesmore put in his memory to keep him going until the Iaen called for him again. He woke before midnight, the call rich in his heart, and swung down the ivy, clinging to the thick elm tree for the last time. He ran the entire way on light feet until he saw the fire, the animals, and creatures gathering. He threw his heart into the celebration of life, remembering the shining lights, the music, the swaying trees, the animals, the Idrains and their strange ways, the pleasant smells, and the cool air of the forest. The faint light of dawn was already showing through the leaves when Eliesmore headed home, his head full of the forest.
The following night he slept soundly, only waking at sunrise. He opened his eyes, disappointed at missing a night out with the creatures of the wood. He had hoped he would wake up so he could go, but no, they were right, it seemed his dancing days were over. When Myran came to wake him, she looked confused. “You don’t smell like the forest anymore.”
“I don’t dream about it anymore,” Eliesmore replied miserably.
6
Ellagine
Year 936 (3 years ago)
She ran through the forest, leaving the sacred safety net the Iaens had cast around their land. Dressed in green, she moved i
n and out of evergreen shadows, trusting she wouldn’t be caught and hoping she would not be stopped and questioned. Thoughts and fears whirled through her mind. She was unsure if leaving was wise given the perilous condition of the wild lands beyond the forest. She was traveling to the fortress by the eastern sea, a two-week journey of running for her life through open spaces. Her powers would keep her safe, yet questions plagued her mind. Would the mortals welcome her? Would they listen to her wisdom once she arrived?
A noise startled her from her thoughts, and she pressed herself against a broad tree trunk, waiting for the challenge to pass. She, an Iaen, was an expert at moving silently through the forest. But weren't they all? The noise had stopped, and although she pricked her large, sharp ears to listen, she had yet to hear the quiet pant of breath. She tried to calm herself as she moved forward, agitation made her pale green aura glow, a dead giveaway of her position, even in the dim light of the forest canopy. She danced from shadow to shadow, mindful of the sharp twigs and branches jutting out. She had grown up there, such trifles did not bother her.
Two hands slammed into her shoulders, pinning her against a tree trunk. Her head jerked back, staring into her eyes was the flushed face of another female. The two Iaens stood face-to-face in a standoff. The one pressed against the tree was tall and thin with long colorless hair. which tended to be camouflaged according to her surroundings. Now she was caught, and her green aura began to glow brighter. Her light blue eyes stared coolly into the face before her. The other Iaen was shorter and lighter. She floated off the ground to stand face-to-face with the taller Iaen. Large golden eyes took over her distinctive heart-shaped face. Golden hair tumbled in waves down her back, held in place by a green crown of leaves. “Why are you leaving?” the golden Iaen demanded.
“It is time,” the green Iaen replied without making a move to free herself.
“I thought we agreed. They brought this upon themselves. We should leave them.” The golden Iaen pushed against the green Iaen.
“Think. This folly has been taken too far. We will be overtaken if we do not make a stand. Besides, the time for unity is soon to come. If we are to defeat them, we have to act together. You know this, you hold power, too. We are greater together.”
“To take it to the mortals would be folly. Why are you doing this? What do you care?”
“If you care for this forest as much as I do, maybe you will understand what I am saying. Come with me and see for yourself.”
“Never!” snarled the golden Iaen, her teeth glinting sharply for a moment. She threw herself away from the green Iaen, restoring her feet to the forest floor. “Will you come back?”
“Glashar.” The green Iaen whispered, using a secret name. “You are one of us. One of the Wise Ones. Why do you not see? The time to give up all you hold secret is now. The mortals need us.”
Glashar, the golden Iaen, turned away. “Will you come back?”
“I am Ellagine, Lady of the Green People. You have my word. I will return.”
Glashar turned. “I know you are great and powerful; still, I give you the mark of protection.” She raised a pale hand. “If you leave this land, your powers shall be diminished. This you know. This is my warning.”
Ellagine’s eyes narrowed. Without another word, she crept away into the mist.
Ellagine, Lady of the Green People, had not gone far when, once again, she heard someone following her. She paused; this time the sound was obvious. There was a humming and beating of wings. A small, muscular warrior tumbled out of the sky to land at her feet. Her arms were bare and her garb scant. In one hand she held a bow, and on her back was a quiver of white arrows. Her skin was darker than most Iaens; her ears were large, jutted out, pointed, and curled above her head. Short, black hair hung down to her chin, and as she landed, silver wings folded neatly under the skin of her back.
Visra the Jesnidrain was wild through and through. Her excuse for anything was a good fight; she lived to be a warrior. She was impulsive and unpredictable, changing as quickly as a flash of lightening. In her early years, as a punishment for her fickle ways, her extraordinary powers had been taken away. What little was left only made her a better warrior. “I want to come,” she announced as she landed.
“Come where?” Ellagine demanded.
“To the fortress of the mortals. I can protect them.” Visra waved her bow.
“This is not about protection.”
“Then tell me. You are one of the Wise Ones. You know more than you ever tell. Stop being so vague and tell me your plan,” Visra insisted.
“We cannot talk here. Come,” Ellagine relented.
Grinning in self-satisfaction, Visra spread her wings and flew east, while the forest stood silent in the wake of their blur of movement.
7
Glashar
Year 936 (3 years ago)
Glashar was left alone in the silent wood. It would not be long before the Iaens determined the plight of the world belonged to the mortals. Soon they would venture to the eastern shore and sail to the Pillars of Creation. Together they were a powerful people, but they had learned long ago mortals wanted to exploit and use their gifts for useless purposes. The mortals had been set right by one called Magdela the Monrage. She had once been a Lady of the Green People, one such as Ellagine. Her desire for proof of a greater power took her away from the forest of the Iaens. She fascinated the mortals who became her followers, and then in the height of her power, they deceived her, blaming her for the devastation of the world and banishing her far from its reaches. Her power they took for themselves and manipulated it for deep evil measures. The damage was unstoppable, and the Iaens determined never again to let their great powers become a tool for the mortals. They made a pact. If the powerful Iaens left their sacred wood, their powers would lessen, and as time went by, they would be lost forever lest they return. Furthermore, frequent use of the powers without returning to Shimla would cause mortality and death.
Ellagine, knowing this, went eagerly out to contact the mortals. All Glashar could feel was anger stirring within her. Glashar was one of the most powerful Iaens. She held the power of life and death. It was too potent for her, and she knew one wrong move, and she would lose her powers forever. Tormented by loss and morality, she left the world to the fate of the mortals; it was none of her business. To join the mortals in their failure would cost her everything.
8
Arldrine
Year 942 (Present Day)
A female Ezinck stood in the thick woods of Truemonix, holding a bow in one hand while twirling a dagger in the other. White-tipped arrows filled the quiver on her back as she watched two males walking in her direction. Both had swords strapped to their waists. The taller one carried a bow, his chin-length brown hair tucked behind his ears. They moved naturally through the wood. The Ezinck noticed the way they held their heads, keen and alert to their surroundings. She stepped out of her hiding place into the path, snapping a twig under her foot to alert them to her presence.
“Arldrine!” the Tider exclaimed in surprise.
Arldrine the Ezinck moved forward to meet them, clasping a fist to her breast in greeting. She thumped her chest twice before laying her palm flat in the ritual of her people. “Idrithar. Zhane. I heard wind of two strangers in the forest from the birds. I did not know it would be you. It has been two years since I’ve last seen you.”
The Cron called Idrithar nodded, his expression stern as he pulled back the hood of his cloak. He stood about six feet tall with warm eyes and light brown hair pulled back in a bun. Half of his face was covered with a neatly trimmed beard. “It is time we returned to take up residence at the fortress again.”
“Yes,” the Tider called Zhane agreed. He was six and a half feet tall with a solid body. Even through his billowing clothes, Arldrine could tell he was built like a warrior from his broad chest and muscled arms to his powerful legs. “Arldrine, I must admit, your being here is unexpected. When we left, you were still at the fortres
s. What made you leave?”
Arldrine lifted her eyes to the trees, watching the way they moved before waving her hand. “Come,” she beckoned. “I know a place where we can talk in private.”
A stranger to the woods would not have seen a difference in the trees where the three met and the trees where they settled down to talk. Arldrine the Ezinck had grown up in Truemonix and knew its secret places. In a shady area of the forest, where one could not see the sky above, the three shared a light meal of nuts, berries, and dried meat.
Arldrine relaxed against the trunk of a tree, facing Zhane and Idrithar. “I left the fortress earlier this year to return here, home, to wait.”
Zhane frowned as he broke open a nut, scattering shells in the grass. “Why?”
“It is because of what Ellagine said during her last visit. She said the time is coming when the One will arise, and we will need to gather around to support him. I told Ellagine to find me here when the time is right.” Arldrine’s gaze shifted to Zhane’s face, sensing his displeasure; he preferred her safe at the fortress. They’d been friends for the past six years. Although two years ago, Zhane and Idrithar had left on their third trip across the South World. Searching. “I am aware the Black Steeds rule this world. I will be careful. You know I will return again. You have.”
A look passed between Zhane and Arldrine, which Idrithar ignored. He chewed a strip of dried meat thoughtfully. “We trust your judgment. How was the fortress when you left?”
Arldrine pinched her lips together as her face darkened. “The fortress is empty now, ever since the last attack two years ago. Only the brave and few are left. Dathiem is in charge, as you left him. Visra comes and goes as she pleases. Optimistic has his hands full with Yamier and Wekin, the two orphans who were found. The three Mermis are still there. I doubt they will ever leave; you know their fate. Tell me about the world and what you saw.” Her dark eyes looked hopeful, but she knew there was no word of the One.
The Complete Four Worlds Series Page 68