Chapter 21 ~ A Darkness Beyond Knowledge

For years an evil greater than the knowledge of men lay beneath the Earth, seeping through the quakes in the ground, and now was the age of the Demons, summoned by the power the Dark One. Through this one shapeshifter, all the dark armies of the world were united for one cause and one only, the ruin and desecration of the races of the Earth. The spell of the Winterwolf was only a temporary pause in the glory of men, but now was their final hour. This time the Dark One would bind the world in darkness and send his wicked helper Tarole to search the Eastern Mountains for any living creature. Lithônion, however, had the power to stop the curse of the Winterwolf, but the Armies of the Dark would already be gathered and blood would have to be spilt.
Tarole stared at the ancient writings in his bloody grasp. The writ began to change and Tarole saw in astonishment that the spell had been changed. No longer would the spell be broken by spilling the blood of Tarole or the Dark One, but it would be broken if Lithônion spoke the words of the Maker and sent it back into darkness. But so also, the Dark One would suffer loss and extinction as the Armies of the Maker were brought forth. The only thing they could do was brace themselves for the fight and continue killing anyone that got in their way. It was up to the Maker about the ultimate sacrifice that would pay for the transgressions of His people.
Tarole let out a relieved lisp as he realized his life would not offer ransom for the first sin. Someone else would have to die on the Dark One’s account.
He chuckled to himself. There can be no defeating the Dark One, he thought to himself. His armies were greater than anything Tarole had ever seen, and from all over the earth his servants were hidden, doing the bidding of the demon. There had been whispers of the Maker within the camps, but everyone thought that His power would easily be overtaken by the darkness. Surely someone so great and full of light could not survive in such darkness, he murmured.
“Oh, but he could,” someone whispered in the darkness behind him. Tarole turned and saw the Dark One slithering around the room of the ruins.
“I was summoned by someone here, was it you?” he asked.
“Yes, your majesty. It was I,” Tarole whispered. “I have seen that the spell is changing. What has the Maker done? Perhaps we will not be able to defeat His power any longer.”
“Why have such doubts entered your mind? Don’t you realize?” He seethed through his fangs and his eyes turned red. “We want this! We want to draw out all His forces. We want Him to realize His beauty is nothing compared to our numbers.”
Tarole looked at him doubtfully. “What if His power is greater though?” He questioned.
The Dark One hissed. “How could someone who created the Earth and yet could not control the fate of Man, be more powerful than the ever growing darkness in this world? Yes, He will send His helper Lithônion, but his power will last for only a time and then they will be out of soldiers to fight this war. We will squelch His beauty in our grasp until His people turn to Him in vain hope, waiting for the day when He will save them. But,” he paused. “He will not come.”
He turned towards the door of the castle ruins, “The Age of the Maker is over, now it is our turn.”

“But the old conditions of the spell have been repealed, what now?” Tarole asked.
“We will only seek now to destroy the human race. It is all that is left to do. I had put the spell on them that they might have a chance to live; to live as one of us, but they have fought so rashly against it that it is too late.” The Evil One slinked back into the shadows of the room. “Call forth your legions that we may end this before Lithônion arrives.” Then he was gone.

Tarole turned to the book that he had been reading and slammed it shut. They had many miles to go before they reached the Southern Falls, and time was of the essence if they were to beat Lithônion to it.
He screamed down the hallways, waiting for the reply of the creatures.
Someone called back down the hall towards him.
“Yes, your majesty,” it screeched. “We are ready.”
“What are your numbers?” Tarole asked.
“We are few compared to what we were before. Little of us survived the first battle of the Southern Falls.”
Tarole paced across the courtyard ruins. He wrung his claws in despair. The bloody drops of carcass remains dripped from his mouth.
“Those men will pay for this!” he yelled. He bent on his knees and screamed into the sky, sending shivers down the horizon. “Call the Master back and tell him what has happened. He surely will have backup for us.”
“Yes, your majesty,” it murmured and scurried away.
Slowly a mist began to develop until Tarole could not see the room in front of him. Then suddenly the Master slunk back into his view.
“You have summoned me once again. What is it?” he hissed.
“Well,” he fidgeted with his claws. “We have a very small number of fighting creatures. We will need more if we are to survive. I have sent many down to the Isles of Gloom before some of those nasty men get help from those living there. Now we have very few.”
“You are a poor leader,” the Master spit. “When this is over, your life will be too. I will summon them,” he said. “Wait.”

He disappeared from the room.

It was dark and murky in the Swamp and the trees groaned as once again the Evil One entered. He silently transformed into a man, with the likeness of hands and feet. His hair was disheveled and dirty and his teeth were almost black. The sign of the Evil One was engraved on his arm. Slowly he looked upward and began chanting,
“Come forth you legions of the earth and finish what the Maker has begun. For soon He will come to ruin and we will rule the world in our darkness.” He began to shout loudly and the sky formed a funnel, letting shafts of bitter darkness down to the earth. The ground began to shake and dust sprung up from the grass. Water swirled around the tree trunks as they let out frightened gasps of horror.
“Come forth and do your bidding!”

As the earth began to move and shake, the legions sprung from the water. Thousands upon thousands sprung up from the depths and left their bloody footprints in the mud. For miles around you could hear the giant steps of the horde, leaving their underground abode to fight for darkness and evil. It was the sound of those wanting only death and misery. It was the sound of those following a leader who had betrayed mankind, leaving only a legend of the 3rd Age. And as each creature left an imprint of evil on the earth, so was Lithônion and his host of glorious warriors leaving their footprints of peace and justice for a world hidden in lost dreams and transformed minds.
As the earth reclosed again the Master folded his hands and smiled. This was his final masterpiece.

And Tarole stared out over the horizon and watched as it was blocked by the swarm of creatures, ready at his command.
It was like a beautiful masterpiece of darkness and lies, which ended only in death.

This was the 3rd Age.

Chapter 20 ~ Awakening

The camp-fire burned and snapped as the camp sat around silently.

“You seem to have grown quieter, Nieriel,” Maethorion said softly to her.
“I just am not sure where this journey is taking us and I’m afraid something bad will happen with my father.” She looked into the fire. “I’m afraid I have disgraced his name.”
“Nieriel, rest your mind! There is nothing to be ashamed of. Your father is very fortunate to have such a noble heir.”
She looked up into his fiery blue eyes and smiled.
“Yes, you are right. This will make me age very quickly indeed, if that is possible.” She laughed. Silence began to bind the company. Then someone said something, coming out of the woods.
“Why are we all so sober?” Aidan asked. “It might just as well be a funeral procession to Lithônion instead of what it is!”
“Aidan! It is past the eventide and the men are tired. Perhaps you should rest,” Maethorion said.
“Yes I suppose I should. But how can you let sleep take you while on such a perilous journey?” He winked. Later in the night Maethorion woke to find Aidan standing beyond the outskirts of the camp. He stood with his back to them, staring out into the vast expanse. He had a yearning deep within his heart to settle down and have a home. To be loved by someone and to have a place in the world, instead of a wandering sojourner. Maethorion laid back down and watched as Aidan slowly walked through the trees. He would be back, he knew. Something kept him here, for he would not have ordinarily stayed with the company this long. He looked over at the sleeping woman. Yes, it was her.

The morning dawned darker than the yestermorn. The spirits of the men were beginning to lose hope and the fondness for home and hearth had gotten the better of them. It had been several days since they left. Was it too late? They questioned daily. But Aidan tried to cheer the men on, which proved to be very difficult. They continued walking each day, hoping the next would bring them to their destination.

Maethorion took out the map and studied it carefully, looking at the terrain that laid ahead of them, hoping that they would be able to reach Him before time ran out.

“Do you think that there is hope in this mission?” Nieriel asked quietly to Maethorion.
He paused looking at the sun peeking from behind the dark and ominous clouds, a sign perhaps of the hope that was being given to them from afar off.

“I have taken many risks in my life, and this one has by far been the biggest, but with the hope that I hold in my heart and the sun to cheer me on, I believe we can do this and more than that, I believe it will help.”

The wind blew across the plain, urging the travelers on, whispering a worried and yet confident note in the ears of the wearied. The sun bounced off the emerald grass like glass in the courts of the King. It was a noble and beautiful land, bearing the fruit of long labor of men from the 3rd Ages.
Nieriel watched as Aidan walked calming through the lush grass, picking pieces off as if they were a part of his heart. He whispered softly to himself, lulling the doubts that were surely rising behind that confident exterior. She knew that Lithônion seemed frightening to many races and He seemed equally strange and mysterious to her, and yet something pulled her to see Him once again as she had long ago.

She walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Things will look up when this is over. Darkness and doubt have no place here and they will soon be chased off by the beauty and hope we hold deep within our hearts. Fear not, for morning will dawn.” She kissed him lightly on the cheek and walked on into the sunset.

Suddenly they felt something on their faces. It felt cool and wet. Nieriel laughed gently and realizing where they were, Maethorion motioned for them to stop. They had come to the Western Sea, the end of the world they knew so well. But for Nieriel, the sea had always been her home and it was where she felt safest.
“We have come at last to the Western Sea!” She called raising her hands in the air. “We have made it thus far, and farther shall we go until we reach the Island of the Living, for a glorious place is that.” Tears fell from her eyelids and a great happiness spread throughout them. The sun reflected off their bright and shining faces, a desire of beauty and peace.

They quickly made boats out of the trees along the beach farther North and Nieriel waded into the bright blue water of the Western Sea. It was forever her home, and place of solitude and splendour.
“Here we shall leave all sorrow that has held us back and join the ranks of the glorious, standing for the hope that has carried us here, and pleading for the cause  of those we love most and dearly. Come now, lose not your valor for this is but the beginning of our journey and many nights lay before us.” She motioned with her fair hands for them to continue on into the East, leaving sorrow and sadness behind them while it could still be forgotten.

“The only way for us to overcome darkness is to bring the Light into it, and that is why we have come at last to that fair place beyond the Sea where hope and peace will find us.”

Hearts turned toward the hope that was left and Aidan sat staring into space. A hush fell over the group and a peace enveloped them.

For days they rowed in hope of finding that peace, but it seemed all a loss. Meltoriel held her promise of quiet rest and peace within the land deeply and breathed her life on finding it. But the others began to lose hope and all sight of land. Soon they began to drift through a bog, filled with ghastly and unnatural trees growing around them, clouding out the sun. The evil seeped in around them and the pestilence grew unbearable. The trees creaked with an overwhelming hopelessness. The small group rowed quietly through trying to settle the troubled chaos in their minds. An unsettling sickness dwelled deep in the roots of the Ash and Elm trees, and they recalled to memory the ancient stories of Mashya and Mashyane, the trunk of a tree separated creating a male and female, who then brought forth the human race. But that was for those who believed in those ancient riddles and myths, for most believed in the true story of the Tree Of Life, brought forth from before the Land was created, filled with magic and beauty for the world to see and rejoice, looking to the sky for their hope. But there were yet consequences if the people chose to touch or eat from the at tree, for when they did, darkness would cover the earth and never again would beauty reign as it had that glorious day. For from then on the Maker hid the  Tree of Life from the sight of men until the day when darkness would be banned from the Earth, and perhaps, some thought it would be hidden in one of the darkest forests, waiting to burst through the web of shadows and He would cast its light on the lost World.

Something creaked deep within the forested swamp and they sat still, holding their breath deep within their breast. A winding fog billowed down upon them, curving through the trees, winding its way to their feet. A voice whispered in the dark sending echoes off the trees. The trees shivered as the mist softly touched the edges of their branches and crept its way along the murky paths.
“Why O men, have you come?” It whispered softly and pretentiously. “You have come so far, I would hate to have it end here.”
“It is not our friend,” Aidan whispered. Maethorion looked at him and nodded.

“Who are you Dark One?” Meltoriel asked.
“I am legions and I have come to claim my prize!” it screeched. “Nothing will get in my way. If you have forgotten, it was I who tempted the first Men to taste of that glorious tree. It is I who have changed Tarole’s mind and it is I who will stop this mission to find light. Light is no more!”

.Maethorion shuddered at the sudden blast of foul and hideous breath. Darkness had suddenly encompassed them and there was no escape. He touched his sword and breathed a prayer into the abyss. A sudden cloud of smoke went up and blocked their view. The Dark One came back in front of them.
“No not utter prayers in front of me!” He shrieked. “He has met His death and it is in this Age that I will put an end to the senseless utterances of His people. For too long have I been banished from His kingdom and I will no longer!” He wrapped his long slimy body around a tree branch, making it cringe from such a creature. “Ever since the Maker made this world, He put boundaries on it which no man can keep and for too long He expected us to come in full reverence of His rules. Yes, I was once like you, a human with feelings, but when I ate from that tree He was filled with vengeance and banned me from the land of the living, turning me into this! This pitiful creature, everyone said. Well, now I will prove my worth and when I am done, I will be the only one here! After He hid the Tree of Life from us, He sent Lithônion to keep over the country, that is when I had enough of  the secrecy. I decided to create an army and an alliance so powerful, nothing could stop it.” He stared out over the bog, a sad anger in his face. “I have armies in the North so powerful they could pluck up the Southern Falls as they were a piece of fish, and they will come down out of the North one day, when the army I already have is done with this country. Lithônion will not be able to help, and I doubt that He will have anything to do with this wretched land. I will not leave until there is no human left on this world.” He hissed in Maethorion’s ear.

Aidan quietly grabbed his sword in one hand, and a knife with the other. Suddenly the creature looked fiercely at them and vanished in a mist, leaving them alone and unsure.
“He must have been summoned to some other place where he will work his evil,” Maethorion whispered.
“He does not know the power Lithônion holds. Fear will strike his heart until he dies and then he will be buried in the smoke and ashes which he has rendered for himself.”
“But Maethorion,” Aidan pursued, “We will be between the two most powerful armies in the world! There is no way possible that we will come out alive.”
“Then if that is the case, we will die leaving a legacy of honor and hope for the generations after and we will die knowing we did all that we possibly could,” he answered looking sadly at Aidan. They continued rowing through the bog, leaving ripples of sadness behind them. For two days they rowed through the swamp with no sight of the sun or the end of it. But still they clung to hope. On the third day they emerged from the marsh and saw that they had reached Lafa Anore, the Western town in Yameaus. The town was silent and sat down in a valley. Nothing moved and no noise came from the town. A mysterious smell arose and they immediately recognized it as the smell of burning carcuses. Nieriel cringed and covered her eyes from the sight. Men were lying naked and burned upon the ground and smoke rose from the houses. The town had been sacked and every valuable piece of gold aptly removed. It was a town of  lost dreams.
“Come, we need not look closely, we know who’s work this is. But it will not last long, for we will receive help.” Maethorion pulled Nieriel from the ashes and took her with him to the sea. The port also was ruined and no boats were to be seen. Maethorion motioned for the men to bring the boats to the bay so that Nieriel could sit, for her grief was much and her body began to shake.

They began their journey into the West, into the sunset. The farther West they traveled the brighter the sun became, and Nieriel reminded them that her father had been given eternal light from the Maker. The night closed in and they slept quietly as the men rowed with much speed.

The morning dawned bright and clear and Nieriel woke with a start, not used to waking to light. They all turned and stared West as Lithônion’s City loomed in the distance threatening to block the horizon. It was so painfully beautiful that they blinked in surprise. Nieriel gasped as they came closer and she grasped Maethorion’s hand.
As they approached they could hear the singing of great creatures, singing to Lithônion. As they advanced towards the Great Gate, they bowed their head in obedience to the Law of the land. Two Elves in shining clothes reached down to help draw them out of the boats.
“You are very tired,” said one.
“You will need to rest before anything else,” said the other. They led them up the stairs of gold to a courtyard built with extreme care and beauty.
Maethorion glanced at Nieriel, shocked at what beauty one place could hold.
“Here,” the first one pointed to a hall that ran to from the inside of the courtyard to the outer side and had many rooms on either side. “These are the rooms for guests only, who have not spoken to the King.” The Elves left the small group in the courtyard.
“Shall we rest before we meet the King?” Maethorion asked.
“Yes, we should,” Nieriel answered in reply with the others.
For many hours they slept, and when they awakened it was still light outside.
“That is because there is never night here,” Maethorion pointed out as they each emerged from their room. “Night is a sign of weakness and darkness, but there is none here.”
The two Elves gracefully walked over to them. “Have you business with the King?” One asked.
“Yes, but He does not know we are here.” Maethorion answered.
“I shall go and tell His court master,” the other replied.
In an hour they were standing in the court of the king, awaiting a reply to their request to speak with Him. At the front of the room was a double doorway, through which a streak of light spilled out and onto the floor. Shadows through the crack between the doors. Then suddenly a brighter light opened out into the room, forcing them to close their eyes and cower. When their eyes finally adjusted to the light, they stood and stared in awe of what stood before them. A beauty so refined and gorgeous that even Maethorion stumbled in shock. He stood there looking at them with fierce yet kind eyes, silent and noble. No blemish could be found on HIm and sparkles of light fell from His shoulders. It was the bewitching charm and magnificence that held them breathless before Him. His skin was the fairest of fair and His hair fell in smooth, golden pieces around his shoulders. His crown was made out of pure gold and jewels and His coat out of the skin of pure and unblemished animals. His robe and boots were made of the finest colors from the kingdom.

They were unsure of what to say and so they stood there silent, basking in the light of His beauty.
Finally He spoke. His voice echoed through the hall and reflected off the walls.
“You are silent, why is that so?”

“We have come from the Southern Falls to ask something of you, great King,” Maethorion answered.
He peered down at them from the throne. He knew at once everything about them for He could read their minds and He knew their lives.
“You are very brave young ones, for you have traveled far in search of someone you knew not existed. You need not explain further for I have been to the Southern Falls many times. I have circled the earth and come back millions of times. There is nothing new that I do not know.  I know of the evil brewing within this land and I have talked with the Maker on this subject. He cannot save these people without the just punishment that their disobedience deserves. Blood will have to be spilt if your people will be saved.”
The company began talking among themselves, whispering of the many stories of what would happen in the Last Age, but none of the them had contained this.
“The Maker is displeased with His people and if the blood is not spilled as it justly will be, His wrath will be against His people and the whole Universe. That will truly be the Last Age.”

“Yes, we have heard rumors of His powerful wrath, but we can barely take care of our own people, and the darkness has taken over our lands. Good has been compromised for evil.” Aidan spoke up.
Lithônion began looking at the company and noticing their familiarity. Something seemed familiar about the girl and then He realized who she was.
Ah, yes, it was she. His second generation, a beauty within the world of Men.
He whispered, “Nieriel, yes, that was her name.” She looked up into His eyes and murmured words of love in Elvish. A bond that had been broken for thousands of years was brought together once again.
Quickly they turned away and began talking once again of the dangers that lay in Yameaus.
“For many years we have labored trying to keep our people safe, but it has grown impossible and there is no longer a safe way through this battle. The only way to perhaps have some survive, is to gain an army big enough to take theirs.”
“Yes, the Maker wishes that the army at hand be taken care of before the sacrifice is made.”
“But I have been considering this for some times, and if the blood of one is spilt to regain justice among the nations, killing one evil person to cleanse the world of evil is a vain act,” Maethorion pondered.
“Yes, you have noticed things that many people have not, for they are in the darkness. The Maker has not overlooked that, for someone of equal perfection as that of evil must be sacrificed, and anything less will result in the death of every man in this world.”
“Who then will be sacrificed?” Aidan asked.
“That, Aidan, is only known to the Maker and me. None others can comprehend such things as the Maker does.”
They stood in silence for moments until Lithônion had considered the things they came to talk about.
“I have armies bigger than that of the evil Tarole and his master. They lurk in the shadows, sending out only their army. But bringing out my armies will put your people in jeopardy for they will be between great forces. Are you ready to go to the end with them?”
“But they are not my people. I have come on behalf of Calmar IV of the Southern Falls, for his father has passed, leaving him the king. He was unable to take this journey.” Maethorion looked at the ground, making the sign of the Quel kaima across his chest.
“If you have known what was happening in Yameaus, why did you not send help?”
“Because I was waiting for you to fulfil the sayings in the Book. I see now that you have, and I will hear the pleadings of your voice.”
They all bowed in respect to Him and bade HIm farewell until a further time.
“Farewell and Tenna’ ento lye omenta,” He said. He turned slowly and His light was hid from them again.

For two days they stayed there, waiting for the word of the King. And when finally He came to a decision about His armies, He called them forth from the Earth, uttering His speech to the corners of the world. Slowly the armies gathered and the world creaked beneath the grandeur of their power.

And so they started off, power upon power, led by the King of the West, Lithônion.

Chapter 19 ~ The Forgotten Love

There comes a time in everyone’s life when they must choose between good and evil, when they must stand for what they know. For some it comes sooner than it was expected, but for others it comes far too late. For Adanessa it came far too soon. Scarcely had beauty come into her life, when darkness faded it out and life became a living hell. The Winterwolf had snatched her away in its wintery grasp, but her mind was not changed and she was forced to see a tormenting nightmare and yet she remained the same in spirit. The evil and abuse that went on in the Lost Hills affected her the same as it would have before. Her life ever since the Spell had been grief and desolation.

It began one wintery day in the Southern Falls. The sun shone brightly through the clouds but something seemed different. She knew that Tarole planned to cast the Winterwolf over Yameaus, and yet she held some hope in her heart that perhaps it would not reach those she loved. Each night she returned to her room, unsure and afraid. Then one night a vision appeared to her fromLithônion. Tarole was indeed going to cast the merciless Winterwolf, until every last person was affected by it, and everyone begged him for mercy, of which there was none. In her vision the world became a bleak and weary land, with sorrows stretching like a spider’s web across the terrain. She saw it sink into the hearts of every man and Elf until at last everyone was in the Lost Hills, falling upon each other viciously. Then it came to her in the mid morning hours. The vision of her own heart, being overcome by the spell, and she herself would retreat to the Lost Hills to be no more. Tears cascaded down her cheeks into her pillow. She wept grievously when she awoke as she stood out on the battlements, vulnerable to the world. Her most intense fear had now come true and there was nothing left to be in fear of now. Her hair blew in the strong wind and her skin grew cold. Her eyes burned brightly as she stood alone in the darkness with nothing between her and the sky.

She stroked the small stone carved from the very stars above her by the Moon Elves for her. Perhaps the spell could take all else, but her love could never be taken. She looked up at the stars shining down on the barren land. She lifted up her hands and whispered, “I am ready, take of me what you will!”

A fortnight and a day later, she was taken by the spell. She lay quietly on her bed listening to the night breeze when she felt the first twinge of darkness in her bones. She sat up stiffly and looked down at her hands as they slowly began to wither. As she stared into the mirror she saw her body begin to melt and die. Suddenly she was in a land far away and unfamiliar. She stood on a hill covered with trees and shrubs and she could hear screams in the night. Fires burned into the sky and the screeches of night creatures were hideously loud. Fear swept into her heart, making her head pound in desperation.
“So this is the end,” she thought. “Perhaps it wasn’t true that I would come back.” With death encompassing her and evil ensnaring her, nothing seemed real from her past life. There was nothing familiar in the sight that met her eyes for it was a nightmare unknown to any human or elf. Perhaps words cannot even explain the torture and betrayal that laid siege to those hills.  She stood up quickly and made haste to find a more secure shelter in the trees. Suddenly something splashed under her feet, it was a puddle of blood. Sometimes in a persons life, their nightmares become reality and all sense of sanity leaves. This is what happened to Adanessa and now there was no turning back. A strange feeling crept into her heart, casting shadows on the walls of her soul. Whispers drew near to her ears, “When life begins to take more than it gives, fight and do not give in to tempted thinking. You will come out alive.” It had to be Lithônion, the notorious thought reader and sender of hope beyond the dark veil. Somewhere far away he was watching her steps, guiding her life and sending what ray of hope was possible for such a dark world.

She sat huddled beneath the boughs of a chinitchy tree, waiting for the storm to pass.

She waited for years waiting for the storm to pass, until she was nothing but a thin wisp of life, waiting on the brink of death for someone to rescue her from death’s firm grip. And yet nothing happened and she was forced to become like the other humans turned beasts, preying on the weak within the mountains. Life had taken far more than she could ever hope to gain, and darkness covered her soul.

When evil had become so strong, there was no power in her to keep the darkness out, and so she faded into time and space.  While the world seemed at peace, an anguished soul wrestled with evil and the fate that now enveloped her.

And so, the years continued…

Chapter 18 ~ Winds of Freedom

Rainion and Meltoriel had been walking for hours and it was close to noon. The woods around them was silent and a mysterious shadow seemed to dwell there.
“Something seems to be following us,” she murmured.
“I believe you’re right. But if we are unable to see it, how are we to fight it?” he asked. They heard something rustling in the grass ahead of them. They stopped short and gathered their wits.
“What do you suppose it is?” she asked.
“I don’t know who else it could be except on of Tarole’s evil creatures,” he whispered. Then it stood up. Meltoriel gasped.
“You’re just a boy!” she cried. The small child stared frightenedly at the people. She turned to Rainion. “Who do you think he belongs to?” she wondered.
“I’m not sure, but it seems as if there is something more to this than we see.”
“Well, I don’t know what you are thinking, but we can’t leave him here. Poor child must have lost his family.”
“Meltoriel, you are very weak when it comes to children. It could be a trap!”
“Whatever the case, I shall not die with the weight of this upon my shoulders.” She reached out to him and caught him in her arms. He wasn’t much older than three years old and he was very small and frail.
“I don’t think he speaks,” she said questioningly.
“Yes,” Rainion said, looking around, “all the better. Now he can’t tell us who bribed him into this.”
Meltoriel glared at him, but then laughed. “You are so serious. Please don’t be so worried!”
“I can’t help it. We live in a dangerous time, when no one and nothing is respected. This is just the sort of thing they would do.”

They continued on in silence, listening with every faltering footstep. The twilight was just beginning to set in, when they stopping by a flowing river.
“This shall do for the night. We have much walking ahead of us tomorrow, we must rest,” Rainion said. He began to gather some firewood. Meltoriel set the small child down and began to talk softly to him. Her face was radiant with delight and she laughed happily as she played gently with him. He giggled happily as she played with his hands. He gurgled just as the river did beside them. She lost all recognition of time.  Rainion stood in the distance and watched contentedly as they played together, all the world lost around them. If only it could stay like this, with happiness and quiet. Then they hear something and they turned towards the cowering trees. For a moment nothing stirred, not even the little child. Something came out of the woods, rushing toward them. Fear leapt into the little boy’s eyes and a scream went up. It was an evil creature, but worse than any they had ever seen. The scene before was a horrific sight, full of darkness and hopelessness. The creature loomed above them, with talons dripping blood. He reared at them with fire coming out his eyes. Black smoke rose from his chest and a foul smelling odor wafted out to them. Rainion was too late in shooting his arrow. The creature saw him and caught the arrow in one hand, breaking into little pieces like bones of a victim.
“He has brought the prey we wanted, now he must die!” the creature pointed at the young boy. Rainion looked at Meltoriel with fear pulsing through his veins. She looked away, ashamed. The creature began walking towards them. There was no escape, the river lay behind, death ahead. The boy cried out in agony as the creature approached. Suddenly Meltoriel stepped out in front.
“You will not kill an innocent child! If you want me, then have me.” She pushed the child aside and stood there, vulnerable to death, ready to take the ending blow. The wind blew her hair in her face, smearing the dirt and tears in one endless river down her cheek. She turned to Rainion, “I trusted because I was willing to take the risk, not because it was safe or certain. I have found myself and I am willing to leave. I have had many doubts in my life,” she shouted. “This is not one of them!” Rainion called out desperately to her. But she was not turning back.
“Cormamin niuve tenna’ ta elea lle au’, Quel esta,” he turned away, afraid to see her fall. The creature spread out his scorching whip and knocked her to the ground. A scream arose from the motionless body as she lay, the world floating around her. Rainion caught the boy up in his arms and began to run. The creature didn’t even notice, he was too busy playing with her dead body. Rainion ran frantically through the woods, never stopping for a rest. His breath came slowly now and darkness was closing in around his eyes. He stumbled through the woods, afraid of what mysterious things hid within. The forest reveled in secrecy and silence, unshaken by the sudden turn of events. Tears cascaded down Rainion’s face and splattered onto the ground, penetrating into the darkness itself. Words and emotions were squelched within his breast, and the hours wore on. They had far to go in little time and already the child was beginning to tire. The land became wetter and a sudden bog hung over them. Rainion could tell they were getting closer to the Southern Islands. Once they arrived he knew what he must do and he had thought out a thorough plan of how quickly he must do it all. He looked down at the small child walking beside him, unafraid of what lay ahead or what Rainion might do. He chewed quietly on a small berry. The trees rose menacingly above them but he continued to be occupied with the berry. Exhaustion pulsed through Rainion’s body. Suddenly he dropped to the ground and shook with sadness. There he knelt, helpless and defenseless. The young child looked at him questionably.
“Here,” the child said, handing him a bite of the berry. Rainion looked up amazed and then chuckled.
“Thank you, but I’m not hungry. You need it more then me,” he replied, gazing as the sun finally peeked out from the dark clouds. He looked back at the boy. No, he thought. I cannot go through with my plan. I am the only one he knows.
“Come now, we still have much ground to cover.” He patted the child’s head. He started to think of possible names for the boy. Then he remembered one that Meltoriel had mentioned. Allister, defender of mankind. Yes, that seemed like a good name. He continued walking urgently toward the isles. Suddenly something whispered in his ear. “Peace. No one will be able to harm you. Rest your weary mind.” Rainion looked around puzzled. The sky opened to let a beam of sunlight come streaming down upon his uplifted face. The beauty overwhelmed him and he knelt in the grass. Defenseless and filled with happiness, he stayed there staring into the sky. Darkness gathered around them like a cocoon. Suddenly fire went up in the sky. A great blaze seemed to burn the stars out of the heavens. Rainion knew not of the disaster that the Black Wind had done to Nightsedge. There was a fire burning within his own heart. A hatred seethed within his very soul. But then the voice came to him again and he remembered that he was on a mission to save his people from this disaster. The survival of the Southern Falls was upon him.

Chapter 17 ~ Turning Point

The forest was dark and the trees were ominous. Tashur thought of going back, but there was no going back now. He kept traveling, never stopping. He walked for two days and still he was not through the woods. Then he heard voices, but they were almost unearthly. He shivered in his clothes. Suddenly the voices stopped short and silence ruled.
“Who goes there?” a gruff voice called. It echoed off the trees. Tashur stepped into the light of a campfire. He shirked away from the sight. There was an army gathered together. No creature was quite the same as another. There were centaurs, goblins, trolls, kobolos, dragons, and in the front of all, Tarole. He sat flinching and turning as if in pain. Each time he moved Tashur could hear his bones creaking and groaning. His mouth was smeared with blood and his feathers were shedding on the ground around him. He was chewing on a bone, gnawing off the flesh. Blood and flesh dripped down his chin and spittle came out of his mouth.
“Who are you?” he asked.
Tashur turned away and thought for a moment. “I am Adrian from the Southern Falls.”
“Kill him!” they shouted.
“Wait!” Tarole quieted them. “Let us hear what he has to say first, then we may enjoy his flesh.”
“I have come to you with valuable information. I have with me a map that will help you with your attack on the Southern Falls. In eight days they are having Coronation Day and I have a map of the placements of the army.”
Tarole eyed him with curiosity. “Have you betrayed your people?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Why? I hate hate them, but why would one of their own?”
Adrian paused and was loth to remember it. “I have been crushed and pushed aside. I have lost everyone that was once dear to me. I have become a monster inside. I have been standing guard over a man that is nearly dead, and have watched as the world moves on, while I stood in my corner. I am done with them all!” he shouted.
“Well! I am glad to hear that they have lost yet another one! If you are a lover of darkness and plan to kill and devour, then you are welcome!”

They immediately got to work on plans and Adrian slowly became accustomed to the life of the creatures of The Black Wind.
“They have an army completely surrounding the village. If we split up and go different ways then perhaps with this force we will make their lines thin. One group will travel East to the Crossergate and cross the Rathlóriel river and camp beside the foothills of Southern Falls. The other will travel West to the Berun and camp on the Western foothills of Southern Falls. Before we do this however, we must send a fair portion of troops South. It will be hard. They will have to pass Nightsedge and Port Llast, cross the Isles of Gloom and finally, reach Lynwyn. One of the men are trying to get more soldiers to aid them. We must stop them.” Adrian layed out the plan for attack.
Tarole thought considerably about the plan. “Crossing the Rathlóriel will not be easy. It is a swift river and will have a thin layer of ice by that time. Berun is also the land of the Rangers, and if they see us they will alert the rest. Nightsedge is a heavily guarded town also! Surely they will spot us out. There must be an easier way.”
“Tarole, you have sat in these woods for far too long. It is time you move and make a battle plan. Do you want to see the spell kept forever? The only way to kill Calmar and all his country is to act quickly.”
“You are right. We must choose the best of our forces for this chore. You will lead them because you seem full of knowledge of the ways of men. I will select those that will go with you,” Tarole finished.
“There is one other thing. We must be very careful that we do not venture too far East, for we do not want to disturb those wandering in The Lost Hills. We will go only as far as Rathlóriel but only there,” Adrian pointed out.

Tarole worked on picking out the best warriors, fit for much walking and running. He divided the army into three companies. One to go West, one to go East and the other to go South. The first two would wait for another day, but Adrian was to lead the third company South right away.

They started out early one morning while is was still considerably dark and rainy. Adrian was rather thankful so that he would not have to look at the horrid creatures until daybreak. They walked for most of the morning and finally came out of the woods on the Eastern side. Adrian saw the The Lost Hills, covered in a mysterious darkness. They came to Rathlóriel and stood quietly at its edge.  The waters roared and sputtered, misting the company.
“What are we to do?” someone shouted. Adrian looked South-East to where they would be traveling.
“It will take us four days from here to there and back. We have one day to build some kind of a bridge to that we may cross here.”

They immediately set to work building a rather unstable bridge across the swiftly flowing river.  They worked far into the night securing and preparing it for the next day. Adrian leaned against a rock and watched the creatures work by the light of the torches. Finally someone was listening to him and could command something. The hammers and axes continued into the morning hours. Finally they were finished and they began to walk across. Everything worked out and they were once again traveling. Adrian looked ahead and saw Nightsedge looming in the distance. It was one of the most heavily guarded village in Yameaus. It was the central point for the whole country and they must walk right into the trap. But he was not about to be caught. Yes, he would walk into the trap, but he would defeat them. The battlements rose higher and higher in the sky.
“Quietly now,” he said. They were still a mile away and they turned right, into a forest. They walked quietly and silently. The ground rumbled beneath the weight but they continued on with a goal in mind. When they reached the edge of the forest they were about a hundred yards from the town’s walls. They gathered just within the forest in a straight line. There were about fifty thousand creatures gathered there. The town had seventy thousand. It was a fair fight and worth it, though Adrian. He gave the call that ran down the line. Then they burst out, shattering the silence. It was an earth-shattering scream that made Adrian wince. They were blood-thirsty and flesh-hungry creatures, ready to devour their prey. The alarm went out in the town and chaos ruled. The standard went up boldly and soldiers began to file out. They were like a snake of men ready for battle. The gates opened and they came out to meet their foe. Never had these men seen such creatures as came before them now. Some turned away in disgust and repulsion. The young men who had not seen battle began to vomit on the ground. They continued to march on until the two armies clashed. Swords slashed wings and axes smashed heads. Adrian told some of his forces to sneak into the city and set it on fire. He watched as one of the creatures slowly made his way toward the gate. Then someone, seeing what he was doing, cut him into pieces, leaving him a bloody mass. Adrian heaved a sigh of disappointment. He began to slowly and discreetly make his way to the gate. It stood before as an emblem of his life before. It looked similar to the gate at the Southern Falls. Thinking of the Southern Falls made his heart pound in his head. He coward down in the crowd, afraid of being the helpless victim of their weapons. He was now very close to the gate and tried with his whole being to reach the gate and sneak into the abode. He carried the flaming torch in his hand and finally reached the city gates. The houses were made of reed and other things gathered from the forest. He grinned as he made his way to the inner town. It was in a state of utter confusion that no one noticed him. He set the flames to the houses and a great roaring went up. Women began to scream and men shouted orders. The city was going down and Adrian smiled. He gathered his men together and left the town, desolate ashes upon the ground. The smell of the burning bodies floated up to the dark heavens, an aroma of death, as if it were a sacrifice to the unknown gods. Adrian turned and looked at the corpses, the broken dreams of yesterday. Then he turned his back on the city.

In memory of the lives that were lost and the grief that is still shared. A city forgotten, stands yet on the hill. As a beacon of hope and light, it shall shine for eternity. Never was a city built that could compare with this. It was a land of hopes and dreams, an unforgettable legacy.  One day it shall be immortalized and it shall stand as a sign of hope and peace to the nations forever and ever.

But Adrian had turned his back, never to see the beauty of the ashes he had spilt. An unforgiving shadow barred his way and a unreachable darkness shrouded from his eyes the very fact of life.  When he was little there was always monsters under his bed, now he had created a monster in his soul.
“We will conquer and destroy whatever shall come before us, whether friend or foe, they will die,” he whispered as he trudged through the puddles of blood.

Chapter 16 ~ Betrayal and Revealing

The band of soldiers stopped. It was night and darkness was closing in on them.
“Should we stop here?” one of them asked.
“Yes, I think this would be a good place to rest for the night,” Maethorion said. They all stopped under a grove of trees. The wind howled fiercely but they stayed warm around the fire. The trees waved liked ancient grass and Nieriel stared into the darkness.
“Are you anxious?” Maethorion asked.
“Yes, I suppose,” she answered quietly. Maethorion looked at the other soldiers, rather alarmed at her nonchalant behavior.
“I know you don’t want to come. It has been easy so far, but the terrain worsens and a growing mysteriousness about this place. I know very little about this man, but what I hear is very strange. Where we came from, up North, we had many legends of strange folk. There were stories of men that turned into lions, or who breathed fire, but never was there a story such as this.”
“Maethorion, perhaps we should rest now,” she replied.
“Is there something bothering you that I should know about?” he asked.
The men were off searching for wood. It was silent, save the trees.
“Perhaps. But it really has nothing to do with you,” she said.
“It seems to weigh heavy on your mind. Maybe it would help to tell me something of your distress.”
“It isn’t really distress. You see,” she stopped short. “It is a long story and we must get rest.”
“You will not receive any rest in this condition. Tell me what is on your mind,” he answered.
“Well, I suppose.” She stared again into the growing darkness. Something seemed to call out to her, a voice from her past. Never had she spoken these words; she had never even dreamed of it, but something drew her to tell these things. Maethorion seemed trust-worthy and noble.
“Long ago, I lived in a land far away. It was a beautiful place and I still remember much of it. The land was perfect and the sun was always shining. We had no notion of war and our lands were at peace. I grew up very happily. Then my mother died. It happened so strangely and I didn’t really understand that she had died until my father told me. Everything seemed to be hidden from me and I understood very little of what he and my brothers talked about. Then one evening he told me. I wasn’t a real person, I was a goddess.” Maethorion drew back quickly as if by impulse.
“That is exactly why we decided not to tell anyone. It would upset and worry them. After my mother died, we all split up. I came to the Southern Falls, my brothers went to other villages of which I am not entirely sure where, and my father went,” she stopped.
“Your father went to Sathrion. So he is the King of the West, isn’t he?” Maethorion interrupted.
“Yes, he is,” she said quietly.
“But, why didn’t Glandur say anything?”
“Because he has sworn secrecy to the point of death. He took me in when I went North, before I came to the Southern Falls.”
Maethorion looked intently at the fire which cast eerie shadows on her face.
“So, how long has it been since your father told you?” he asked.
“I do not know. I don’t keep time, it is useless to me. I never grow weary or age.”
The men returned and they began to roast the boar they had killed. It was a merry gathering and Nieriel began to sing for them. Her voice was beautiful and it made the men feel warm and safe. They gathered quietly around the fire and listening gleefully to her.
“Ah! That was beautiful! Sing another one,” one of them said.
“It is late!” Maethorion teased.
“Alright, I will sing one more,” she said. She began slowly and quietly and then her voice began to rise and she sang right into the sky. The fire kept beat and she became lost in a world of her own.

Later that night, while everyone was sleeping, she crept off and stood watching the grass blowing over the field beyond. Maethorion came up behind her.
“I’m glad you told me what you did,” he said. “It would be a lonely plight to be alone in this world. I have often wondered if gods and goddess’s really existed. I suppose now I know.”
She laughed happily. “Yes, I suppose you do.”

The next day they traveled over the land. It was a dark day but the party was happy and light.
“So,” Nieriel said, “Tell me about yourself.”
“Oh, I am afraid that would take a very long time indeed,” he laughed. “I have been through many adventures, though I prefer to stay at one place, quite contrary to my brother,” he chuckled.
“Your brother? I don’t think you’ve mentioned him before.”
“Ah, yes! That is because he is off on adventures so much. I hardly see him anymore. But when I told him of our mission he was very much excited. He is very,” he stopped to think, “very lively,” he finished. They could hear laughter coming from the front of the band.
“Ah! Those were the days!” someone shouted.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I found that Kobalo? He was very tricky, but somehow I managed. We got along quite nicely until the night he tied my feet together. That was the end! That shall be the last time I entertain a Kobalo!” he laughed.
“So that is your brother?” Nieriel asked Maethorian quietly.
“Yes, that is my brother.”

“Hullo!” someone shouted. He fell back from the rest and walked alongside Nieriel. “I’m sure my brother has told you fully about me, but my name is Aidan!” he held out his hand to her. “Now, don’t believe everything you hear about me. He tends to exaggerate,” he winked. She laughed brightly.
“Well, don’t count on it!” she said. They walked on through the night, never stopping until the day began to wake up.

They found a cave along the bank of a river. It was small but it was warm and dark.
“Aidan, we will keep watch. You must get some sleep,” one of the men said.
“Why are you always telling me to sleep? I can last days without sleep!” he teased. He came walking into the cave and sat by the fire with Nieriel and Maethorion.
“How has it been living with Glandur and his sons?” Maethorion asked.
“Oh, it has been very pleasant, but I still miss my family. He is very kind though.” She began to laugh. “Calanon is much like you, Aidan,” she said. “He is very outgoing, lively, outspoken, loyal, and sometimes a bit rash. I wonder sometimes about Urúvion. He is so quiet. He is a warrior at heart.”
“Yes, he seems to be in a world of his own sometimes. I’m glad that they are treating you fairly.”
“Yes, I am very happy.” She looked into the fire. Soon, everyone was asleep and the day went on.

Rainion walked resolutely into Calmar’s room.
“Your majesty, there is something I need to talk to you about.”
“What is it?” Calmar answered.
“Well, I have been thinking about the plan for the Coronation Day I have come to the answer. I must go gather people from the lower islands. Wait,” he said, “I know what you are going to say. I know that we have already tried to gather people from the villages around, but I know that the people from the lower islands will come to our aid. My father had connections with them and they will listen. I have thought it out carefully. It will take me eight days to reach them and come back. I will be back two days before Coronation and I will take Meltoriel with me so that I will have someone with me, should something go wrong. If all goes well, I will bring back at least eight thousand strong.” He looked hopefully at Calmar.
Calmar stared up into his face. “What am I supposed to say? You have planned it out so carefully. Go then, if that is your wish.”
“Yes, I wish only to protect you and your country,” Rainion replied.
“Let me ask you something. Why are you so concerned about me? You came here from a decimated town and all you want is my safety. Does that not seem strange?”
“Calmar, it would seem strange to you. But please, do not worry. You are well looked out for,” he answered. Calmar just looked at him strangely.
“Perhaps before you leave I should know this secret you are keeping from me.”
“Please, don’t worry about it!” Rainion seemed to be getting anxious.
“I command you to tell me, now!” Calmar said.
“Alright, but do not blame me for it. I cannot help that it has been hidden from you so long. Truly, if it had been up to me, I would have told you right away.”
“Out with it!” Calmar said.
“You remember your mother?” he asked.
“Yes, what of it?” Calmar asked.
“Well, when she died, I was adopted by a wealthy family from the North. Father didn’t think he could take care of both of us and since you were heir to the throne, he sent me.” Calmar was silent.
“Why did no one tell me that I had a brother?” Calmar shouted. “I could have helped you! I could have made you feel like part of the family! I feel that I’ve been a terrible brother.”
“No! It wasn’t your fault. I should have told you sooner. But, I just couldn’t bring myself to break my promise to father. He wanted you to be happy and not to worry about me.”
Calmar got down on his knees. “Please forgive me,” he whispered.
“There is nothing to forgive Calmar,” Rainion replied.
Calmar looked at the floor. “Why didn’t father tell me? He has been hiding this for so long!” he said, choking down tears. He looked back up at Rainion. Yes, he did seem familiar. That was the memory he couldn’t quite remember.
“We used to play together didn’t we?” He asked.
“I suppose. Although I wasn’t old enough to remember much,” Rainion said.
“When did you find out about your adoption?”
“Father came and told me when I was almost twelve. He told you that he was going on a hunting trip, but he was really coming to see me. Of course, it all seemed so strange because I couldn’t remember him.”
“Yes, that would be strange. Mother died when I was six. That is why I can’t remember us playing together much.” Calmar became suddenly serious. “I can’t let you go off to the South, it would mean going beyond the known world. There is no guarantee that you will come back alive.”
“But Calmar! I want to! I know what I am doing, and I am perfectly aware that it might be my last adventure, but I do dearly want to do.”
The wind blew against the window. It was a bitter wind. The sky was a dark and vivid blue.
“It is a dangerous world out there, brother,” he said. “Would father really want you to go?”
“Calmar, father doesn’t care what I do, he never did care. It is up to you now,” Rainion said.
“Then, if you are sure about it, go. But first let us have a feast to celebrate your last day before your journey.”

“I must tell Meltoriel now,” Rainion said. “We shall see each other soon.” He left Calmar and walked slowly towards Meltoriel’s room. He knocked quietly on the wooden door.
“Come in,” came a small voice from inside. He opened the door into a cosy, lit room. The fireplace flickered contentedly and two chairs sat close to it.
“I have something to tell you,” he said.
“Alright.” She sat down in one of the chairs.
“I have decided to take a journey to the Southern Islands to reach any help we can muster. We need more soldiers. I wanted to ask you so that you would have a chance to come along. Of course you don’t have to,” he said. She thought carefully and looked intently into the fire.
“We are going where no one has ever been before and to people that we have never met.”
“How do you know about them then?” she asked.
“My father used to have connections with them, but that was long ago and I have heard many stories about them recently. Some people say that they aren’t even people, that they are ghosts from the past. Others say that they are a ruthless band. But nevertheless, they are our only hope. Are you with me?”
“If you deem this wise, then I will go with you through the darkest places,” she said. “When are we leaving?”
“Tomorrow. Remember, you don’t have to come. I won’t hold it against you if you don’t.”
“Rainion,” she said teasingly, “You don’t have to say that over and over. In fact, you don’t sound so sure yourself.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” he smiled. “I’m sure it will go alright and we will be back in time for Calmar’s Coronation Day. We must not delay in the least. We have to be back before Winter Solstice. It is getting colder and if we get caught in the winter, there will be no forgiveness.”

They began to prepare and the feast was held in the King’s hall. Beer and rum was passed around and a general happiness was in the room. The cooks prepared a luscious meal of meat, mushrooms, potatoes, honey-cakes, beer, and mead. Calmar payed closer attention to Rainion. He was a kind and loyal man, always watching out for those around him. Calmar regretted the years that had separated them and made them strangers. Perhaps now he would be able to make up for the loss.
“I have had the cooks prepare you some food that you can take with you tomorrow. I hope you’ll be alright,” Calmar leaned over and whispered to Rainion.
“Now, don’t make me regret this decision. I’m sure I’ll be fine, thank you,” he chuckled. But his heart was ill at rest. Nothing seemed to heal that aching fear that settled on his soul. That night he lay in bed listening to the fire. He pulled out his notebook from under his pillow. He hadn’t written in it for years. The last entry was,

I feel left alone in this world. I don’t seem to belong. I wish I could live again with my real family. Why doesn’t father want to take care of me? Doesn’t he love me? Rainion stopped reading. A pulse came beating in his head. A terrible memory of sleeping in a dark room asking these questions to the walls. Doesn’t he love me? Doesn’t he love me? He tore out the pages and threw them into the fire. That time in his life was over. He had found his brother and he was finally somebody. He took the ink pen and began to write.  Alduya, Hisime, Yavieba. The night before I, Rainion, the Taur’ohtar, travel South to find help where I can. Perhaps this shall be the last night that I will be writing. I pray that I will return safely.

He closed the book and went to sleep.

The next day he got up early and packed a small satchel with some clothes, food, and knives. He looked in the mirror one last time. Meltoriel walked in. She had a long, dark green dress on and brown boots. Her hair was tied back with a dark ribbon.
“Are you ready?” She asked.
“Yes, I believe so.”
“Do you have the map?” she said.
“Ah, no,” he said slowly. “I don’t need the map.”
“You don’t need a map? Do you have any idea where we are going?”
“Yes, I know exactly where we are going. My mother was a Sylvan elf,” he finished.
“Oh, so you can see and hear things from far off? I have heard much of the Sylvan Elves. They travel light and know direction better then any other race. Is that so?” she asked daringly.
“Yes, but I am only partly Sylvan Elf you must remember,” he said. “Anyway, you are safe with me.” He smiled. “I will be done packing soon. You’ll want to say a farewell to your friends before we leave, if I know anything of women,” he smirked.  She smiled and left the room.

The day was still very young when they left. Rainion turned and watched as his brother bade him farewell. Perhaps this was the last time they would see each other.
“Fare well and think not of me. We will be fine,” Calmar said.
“I cannot help but think of you and the Southern Falls. It is home to me,” Rainion replied. The sky rumbled overhead.
“Make haste so that we may see each other before the Winter Solstice,” Calmar hastened.
“Goodbye!” the two travelers called over their shoulders. The road lay ahead, home was now far behind them.
“It’s going to be a lonely road,” Meltoriel sighed. “There nothing like having a home.”
“You are quite right,” Rainion agreed.
“Did you used to travel much?”
“Yes,” he began, “But now I’d rather settle down and stay in one place,” he smiled.
“So Rainion, tell me more about yourself,” she said.
“Well.” And he began the story.

The days continued on as the two traveled South. The days became shorter and and darker, if that was possible. Each night they would find a small gathering of trees or shelter to keep them from the rain. One night they found a small cave on the edge of a river.
“Ah! This is better then the tiny trees we found last night. I think I’ll actually be able to sleep tonight!” Rainion said, satisfied at their find.
“I better stay out here and keep watch. It wouldn’t be wise to have no one on guard,” she said.
“Then I shall be the guard. I will not hear it any other way.”
“But, I do not mind at all. Please, you need sleep,” she was fervent. Rainion thought it strange that she was so adamant about it.
He shook his head, “No, you shall sleep in the protection of the cave and I will wake you when it is your turn to keep watch.” She turned to gather firewood. The night continued on without event. The stars began to twinkle and a light shone weakly from the moon. They sat around the fire looking up into the sky.
“Rainion, there is something I must tell you,” she said abruptly. “It cannot wait.”
He turned and looked at her. “What is it?” he asked.
She struggled for words. “Somehow I always thought it would be easier to tell this to someone. When I was little I was not like you. I was a doer of evil and a seeker of darkness. My father was Tarole. We lived in the wild and wandered about. Of course, Tarole wasn’t at all like he is now. He was a regular person, but as his days drew to an end, he craved power and wanted something more. I was very young at this time and had not the knowledge of what he was doing to himself, and to me. I thought nothing of the strange way we lived. Slowly he began to change until I didn’t recognize him. My mother ran away one night, while we were living in a cave. I never saw her again and she was too afraid to come after me.” She stopped and stared quietly into the fire, remembering that night.
“I kept on living with my father, though I couldn’t stand the sight of him. But then I too began to change. I started craving the darkness the the caves provided. I followed and watched him murder helpless people and creatures. I was turning into an evil maniac. Then that was when I beheld her. She was so fair I could hardly stand to see her. Her name was Nieriel. I shall never forget her. She came in the night while my father,” she winced, “was away. She told me many things I did not understand at the time, but I have pondered them since. Then she held in her hand a phial filled with a reddish liquid. She poured it down my throat and whispered things in my ear. It was in a tongue I could not understand, but slowly I began to wake up. Nothing felt as beautiful as when I woke up and saw her there bending over me.” She looked up and smiled at Rainion. It was a radiant smile, one of pure happiness and beauty.
“We sat and talked long into the night.” The words came back to her, “On one knows where the roads will go or where they shall meet. You must follow them to find your destiny. It is a beautiful destiny, one that I would be loth to have you lose. Only time knows where the roads will lead you.”
Rainion sat in the dark thinking. Why hadn’t she told him before? “Did you not trust me?” he asked.
“I was afraid that you would leave me. You are the only one I have had since that night.”
He sat puzzling in the darkness.
He put his arm around her small shoulders.
“You shouldn’t have doubted me. I know how it feels to be left behind. I will stay with you no matter what,” he whispered. They sat together all night watching the sky flicker and shine.

The next day they prepared to move on. It was a cold brisk day. Rainion began getting the things together. Then he looked up and saw a single delicate snowflake cascade quietly to the ground.
“We are too late,” Meltoriel sighed.
“No, there is still time. We have six days left. We will make it.”

(Insert map)

The roads led on and on taking them farther and farther from home and closer to their destination.

The days became darker and the snow began to fall. Everyone looked out their windows expecting the travelers to come back. Smoke rose from the chimneys and people started preparing for the long winter ahead. The plans for Coronation Day had been set aside.

Tashur stared out the window dismally. The room was dark and the fireplace burned a dim light. Calmar laid in the bed unconscious of the world around him. Someone knocked on the door.
“Come in,” he said. Calmar’s son walked in.
“Father, I have something to ask you,” he said.
“He is sleeping, your majesty,” Tashur explained. “I think it would be best if you let him be. He is slowly leaving. It think it best not to disturb him.”
“He must be wakened some time! What are we to do for Coronation Day?” he asked.
“Perhaps he won’t last,” Tashur said quietly. “He tosses in his sleep as if something is haunting him. He is worsening.”
“Do you not know of the things that are happening out there!” Calmar pointed. “They are things that Calmar has stirred up and he must know about them!”
“No,” Tashur said bitterly. “I do not know of the things going on outside. I have been standing here as I have for months.”
“All you care about is letting him sleep! Does nothing else matter!”
“He was all I had when I came here! I was his guardian and still am. I am trying to do what is best! It is foolish for you to wake a man who is almost dead when there are men all around the city that can help you! I included. Do you think I enjoy standing in this corner watching him toss to and fro? Perhaps you could think of someone else besides yourself for once! I have been thinking of other people ever since I came here! I have been loyal to everyone!”
“You do not know of anything. You try to undermine my power and tell me what to do. You are jealous of my position!”
“You are an ill and untrusting man! To forget the things that I did for you when you were young. I was like a brother to you. To throw that away is something that I cannot abide,” Tashur finished.
“That corner is the only place for a betrayer and scoffer. I know I should not trust you,” Calmar muttered. He went over to Calmar’s bed and touched his shoulder.
“Father, I have something to talk over with you,” he said. His father jerked awake.
“Yes son,” he said feebly.
Calmar pulled something from his pocket. It was an old map of their village. “I want to talk about the arrangement of the soldiers on Coronation Day.”
“Yes,” he drifted off again.
“Father! Please, tell me what I should do,” Calmar said.
“He is not aware of you, Calmar,” Tashur said quietly.
“Oh, of course,” he answered mockingly. “Why is everyone against me!” Calmar shouted. He dropped the map and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Tashur began to weep. Why was he staying? There was nothing to stay for. Love and friendship were no more. He went to Calmar’s bed and looked at him one more time. “I’m sorry Calmar. But this is what I must do,” he whispered. He picked up the map and walked out. He didn’t stop walking until he reached the Damarion Woods. It was dark and windy. Tashur pulled the map out of his pocket. It had the placement of the soldiers and army for Coronation Day. It was the perfect tool… He looked into the forest with searching eyes. Where were they? He wondered. He kept walking.

Chapter 15 ~ Coronation Day

The moonlight streamed in his window as Calmar sat at his table and wrote. He wrote many things but mostly in his journal. Someday, he thought, this will be token to my children of the life that I lived. I hope it is something to be proud of. Someone knocked on his door.
“Come in!” he called.
The door creaked open and a steward walked in.
“Your father wants to talk to you,” he said.
“I’ll be there presently,” Calmar answered.
“Yes, your majesty.”
There’s always something else he wants me to do. It seems a hopeless business to try to please him. He put his pen and paper away safely and walked to his father’s room. It was quite dark but he could just make out his father’s face above the thick blankets on the bed.
“Son, sit here,” he said. “I have been thinking much about you. As you see, there is nothing else to do. Everyone knows that I will not be here much longer,” he paused. Calmar looked and saw Tashur standing in the corner of the room, almost unseen. Something seemed secretive about him.
“Go on,” Calmar urged.
“Well, I want to see you crowned king before I die. It would make me very happy indeed if you were coronated.”
“Father, this is no time for festivities of that sort. The enemy is lurking around, perhaps even waiting for this day when they can attack, unknown to us,” Calmar argued.
“You cannot always be protecting your people. There are times when you must cease from this endless worry.”
“That was your mistake… I am not going to make that same mistake, father! You pretended to aid your people by throwing feasts and parties when they needed protection instead! You choose to enjoy the luxuries of a king while the world around preyed on your own people. I will not be tempted to do the same. Is that all you wanted of me?”
“Yes my son, it was.”
Calmar walked out and down the hall. He kept hearing his father’s voice in his ears, you cannot always be protecting your people. He walked outside and felt the cool breeze wash over his flushed face. Someone walked up behind him. It was Rainion.
“Is it your father?” he asked.
“Yes. It is difficult anymore to decipher from his mumbled words what is kindness and what is sheer foolishness.”
“I do think perhaps that you should consider carefully what he said though. It might be wise to make a public announcement of your kingship while your father can back it up. If not, it might result in a revolt,” Rainion suggested.
“It would be dangerous though. I cannot risk another attack while they are gone.”
“I will arrange my soldiers in such a way that an attack on that day would mean only death for our enemies. It would be safe,” he persisted. Calmar looked up at the stars winking down at him.
“Perhaps you are right. It would be wise to do this now while my father is still alive. But I am the only person they want to kill. I feel as if I’m exposing myself. I have been sheltered for a very long time.” Calmar said. “I’m going to leave it up to someone else to plan the food and decorations though. I cannot take on another thing.” He turned to go inside.
Rainion stood and stared into the darkness. Meltoriel walked quietly up beside him.
“What were you talking about?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing really,” he said. He looked down at her. Her hair flowed like a golden river down her back and her eyes gleamed brightly in the starlight.
“Come back inside with me,” she said. “I have things to talk to you about.”
“Well, so do I actually,” he smiled. They turned and walked slowly toward the looming castle gates.

The town began to come alive as preparations were made for the great day. The sun rose with glory each morning and spirits rose with it. For some reason, the sadness and horror of the past months had faded away. It seemed as if new life had begun. Yet, the world seemed shrouded in a darkness that could not be estimated. Calmar watched patiently towards the West for the returning band, though he knew it would be quite some time before they returned. He was disturbed many times about questions for the big day. Rainion drew up an elaborate plan for the defenses of the city. It seemed as if everything would actually work out this time. Calmar’s father seemed to be improving somewhat.
“We must make you look like a king as least,” Meltoriel said as she entered his room.
“What will the mean?” he asked.
“Well, you will need your father’s crown to be dug out of his wooden chest in his room. And you need your hair to be brushed through and new clothes to be made.” She looked at him closely. His eyes were serious and almost sad and his cheeks were sunken. “I know what you are thinking Calmar. You wish that Nieriel was here to rejoice with you on this day. You have grown quite fond of her, I can tell it in your eyes. Long ago I felt the same way about a man in my village. He was kind and brave and we grew quite close. One day he left to fight the coming armies from the North. He never returned. Love can be disappointing, but it is also a very good thing. Without love our world would be an empty place, lacking in courage and kindness.”
“Why are you telling me this? It only makes it worse. I have things to do!” he said. She looked down at the floor.
“I cannot be of much help if you are not willing to listen.”

“You were not helping! You are filling my mind with things that I do not need. I am a king! You are too love sick to think of anyone else.  Dolle naa lost!”
Meltoriel looked at the ground, “Lle naa haran e’ nausalle,” she said quietly. Then she left the room. What have I done? She is right. I am no king! I am a coward and an unjust king. He paced the room.  A dark evil was playing with his mind. It spoke to him in the night hours, a restless will. He gazed out over his kingdom. There was a certain hopelessness that almost consumed him like a roaring fire.

Chapter 14 ~ A Journey Started

Glandur stared out the window at the rain. It was a dark day, but the sun kept trying to shine.
“You have put on a good show for Calmar. He thinks you are worried about Nieriel,” Calanon stated.
“Well, we wouldn’t want to worry him about her past. Besides, now is not the time to bring up her past.”
“It would be wise though to tell him before he is caught in the midst of it. There is much to tell and little time.” Calanon persisted.
“Yes, we will get to that, but we mustn’t hurt him. He is a busy man.”
Calmar walked in.
“Is everything alright? I know you are worried about Nieriel, but these men are good people and will watch her carefully,” he said.

A guard came in quickly, “Nieriel is ready, you majesty.”
“Thank you. I will be there soon,” Calmar answered. “Well, it has come down to it. The union of our people is breaking. Let us only pray that we will be reunited again one day.” They looked out toward the darkening and threatening sky. “I will prepare Nieriel’s mount. I have called Maethorion and his men, they will be here soon.” He walked slowly out.
“Well, this is it. Now we must sit and wait,” Glandur said.

Calmar walked out into the courtyard. “Where is Roheryn?” he shouted.
“Right here your majesty,” a stable boy said. Calmar cleaned him and readied him, something he would allow no one but himself to do. Roheryn was a beautiful horse, with a red gleam on his hair. He was graceful, carrying the wind in his mane. Calmar looked and saw Nieriel coming from the castle gates. She looked like a warrior, but a kind warrior.
“Are you ready?” Calmar asked.
“Yes, I am.” A sound of hoofbeats filled the air and Maethorion and his host arrived. They filled the stable grounds and a light penetrated from their faces. Nieriel seemed to enjoy them immensely and smiled gently.
“This is who you have chosen for this perilous adventure?” he asked.
“Yes,” Calmar answered.
“Is she prepared for the risk she is taking?”
“Yes, we have told her everything in full. She is ready.”
“Come, we must hurry!” Maethorion said. Nieriel mounted Roheryn and sat proudly atop his back.
“I will come back. Don’t worry, I’m in good hands,” she said softly.
“Why do you think I would worry?”
“Because I have seen you staring out at sea many times. You seem very different from when I first met you up on the mountain. You must protect yourself. You are a hunted man.” She stared into his eyes.
“I have become a king before I was prepared,” he said, afraid to acknowledge his feelings. “The role of king is far beyond my imagining.”
“Goodbye Calmar! Tenna’ ento lye omenta,” she said fondly. Memories flowed through her mind that brought tears to her eyes. A sadness shadowed her face. “Must goodbyes always be so sad?” she asked.
“No. No they don’t. Aa’ menle nauva calen ar’ ta hwesta e’ ale’quenle,” he smiled. It felt good to speak in the way that he used to speak. “Much speed and strength!” he shouted as they rode off into the sunset. Sprinkles of light flowed from her hair and left a path behind them. He looked at the ground and smiled.

Chapter 13 ~ A New Life Begins

The night air blew the leaves gently around his head. A dreamed slipped from his mind and something began to take shape around him. And then he remembered; everything passed through his mind in one painful recollection.

Something howled outside the window. He jumped out of bed and raced across the hall outside his room and looked out the big window at the end of it. A restlessness stirred within the forest beyond, that he couldn’t understand, but it took on a terrifying and evil sound, like the breathing of a great beast. He began to call for someone, one of the guards perhaps that could sound the alarm. But nothing came out of his mouth and he stood there still as a rock. Then out of the silence burst an overwhelming and impregnable force, unveiling a brutal attack. The castle became alive as guards and soldiers raced to the defense of their country. But alas, it was too late and death was inevitable. Rainion raced back to his room and bundled his belongings together. Rain started beating down on the hard castle roof. He was a guard of the royal family along with many others. He tried to make a decision, would he stay and guard the king and his family? Or would he leave and run like a coward? He heard footsteps in the hall and loud screaming and wailing. Something triggered in his mind and he turned and ran out into the courtyard. Chaos ruled to castle now and no one noticed him running. He felt like a coward but something kept him from turning back. He looked back over his shoulder at the mass of blood-thirsty creatures, sent from Tarole himself. While on their way to the Southern Falls, Tarole had planned a deadly attack on the city of Stonelake, one that would wipe them out of history forever. Rainion did not want to become that nameless person. Then a blow shattered his mind and he lay still and silent…

He slowly sat up and flinched as his arm was torn in several places. Silence ruled except for the occasional stir of the other captives. None of their captures seemed to be present but he could feel their presence. It felt heavy around him and the trees blew sadly as if remembering the great curse that now lay upon these captives. Everything was very green in contrast to the brown dirt that covered the ground. There were many people lying around but something seemed strange with them. They lay so still that he couldn’t even tell they were breathing. In fact, were they breathing? And then with a sickening realization he knew that Tarole had put his spell on them and never again would they be the same. He scanned the ground and saw two figures crouching on the ground. He made his way slowly towards them. One was a young woman, and the other was her mother. Somehow they had escaped from being made into blood thirsty people. The woman saw him approaching and called out quietly. “My mother is dying! Please help me to wrap her wound.” Rainion looked to where he thought he could hear their captures talking or grunting. No one seemed to notice so he continued to come closer. It was so dark that he couldn’t make out their faces or anything about them really. But after a few moments of working stealthily he managed to wrap her arm up tightly.
“She has lost too much blood already,” he whispered.
“Well, as least we tried,” she said mournfully. The trees echoed in a cacophony of sadness and grief swaying their branches in the bare light. The girl bent down over her mother’s face and whispered, “Quel esta.” She began to weep quietly and pulled a dirty blanket over the face of the dead. Rainion saw an opportunity for escape after he perceived that no one was  watching. He began to stand up slowly.
“Where are you going?” the woman asked. His heart began pounding in his head. He would not leave someone behind again. It was his duty to bring this maiden with him and save her from the torture that surely would be hers.
“I’m escaping. Will you come with me?” he held out his hand and firmly grasped hers. They heard faint voices growing louder, now was their chance. They began running wildly through the woods, not quite knowing where they were going. They ran through streams and over hills, they ran with the wind in their palms, never resting. They were  restless and wild beings as if they had never known captivity. Nothing could hold them back now. On the third evening of their escape they sat around a small campfire and told of their life before Tarole devastated their city. It came finally to Rainion’s turn to tell how he got here, a story that bore grief and reluctance. It was inevitable that she would leave after telling her what a coward he was. But after all, his whole life had been spent saying goodbye to those he loved most. He sat and told her everything that happened the night of his capture.
“So that is my story,” he ended sadly. She slowly stood up and stared through the forest. She was silent. Rainion walked over to her. The darkness covered them like a veil and yet he could sense that she was suffering somewhere inside. He put his arm around her back and they just stood quietly thinking.
“I don’t know really anything about you nor how you came to be in Stonelake, and these past few days have been a blur to me, but I do know that you saved my life. You might have been a coward to leave, but you are my hero.” She turned and laid down on the ground and was instantly asleep. Rainion had always dreamed of being a hero or soldier just like his father before he died in the war. And nineteen years hadn’t changed anything. But it seemed like when he left Stonelake he had left his future behind; he had given up his right to live. And yet somehow he met someone who thought the very opposite, who thought that he was actually and hero. What more could he ask for?

That’s when he woke up. They had been traveling by day trying to reach the Southern Falls before Winter set in and destroyed any hope of survival. He turned over and watched                   Meltoriel as she slept, like an angel in dreams. He heard something moving in the woods behind him and reached quickly for his bow and arrows.
“Meltoriel!” he whispered loudly. She woke up instantly and crawled over to where he was kneeling.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I’m not sure but we shouldn’t risk anything. Climb a tree!” he quickly put the fire out and climbed a tree close to their camp. They waited silently for their unseen enemy to come near. A cold breeze blew in the tree tops and a frightening and mysterious stillness enveloped them. Then they heard footfalls in the distance. But they were unusual footsteps and sounded rather light. Rainion watched as the mysterious people inquisitively explored their camp, uncovering the fire pit and noting the footprints in the dirt. He cringed thinking of the thing that would definitely give them away. They talked among themselves in the clearing beneath the escaped fugitives.
“I see them!” one of them shouted.
“Men! He has found the captives we have been searching for!” the apparent leader shouted. A general uprising followed as they were ushered out of the tree and were searched for weapons.
“Your majesty the King of the Southern Falls has beckoned his most faithful hunters to find any captives or people left from the terrible conflict in Stonelake. You, I assume, are returning captives from that skirmish?”
Rainion thought the group a most comical and fascinating band. Their hair was a dark brown and shoulder length and each one had an assembly of weapons and a beautiful cape that flowed off their broad shoulders. He breathed a sigh of relief and reached for Meltoriel who stood close beside him.
“Well, in that case, I suppose we should be heading back soon before they catch us again. Why does he care about us? I mean Stonelake, that is.”
“Our King has issued a royal declaration bringing forth the armies of Yameaus to fight against the growing evil,” he answered.
“Oh, and our ravaged village is going to help him? That’s all he wants from us?” Rainion’s voice carried a somewhat hurt and offended touch.
“He just thought that perhaps it would be better to band together before further damage is done,” the man replied.
“A very wise answer, you fool! That you would assume such authority as to bid us come to your kingdom instead of my own or that of my fathers is beyond all reasoning.” Rainion didn’t know what he meant by what he just said, but feelings welled up inside of him and a growing feeling of cowardness filled him.
“Alright, we will tell him that you wish not to enter his abode for protection during such a turbulent time.” And the band of weary soldiers walked off into the night, leaving the two fugitives alone and defenseless.
“Please, just don’t say anything!” Rainion said, turning to Meltoriel. She looked at the ground and said nothing. “I know what you’re thinking. I just let our last hope of protection walk away.”
“It was what you thought best. When you asked me to to come with you I knew nothing about you, but I decided to come anyway. We will get through this somehow.” She answered gently.
“But you shouldn’t be here, alone and in danger!” Rainion persisted. He struggled within himself until it seemed hopeless.
“Well, we should start on our own to reach the Southern Falls before Winter Solstice.” she said.

And so the days raced by and each one carried them closer to their destination. They made weapons out of the tree branches and the dirt became their only bed. On the fourth day of Yenearsira they arrived at the Southern Falls. The town was quiet and still and the fortress stood tall in the midst of it.
“I told you we would make it,” she said looking at the stoic citadel. He smiled down at her.

As they entered the gates one of the guards took them to the King himself. Except he wasn’t the king Rainion remembered, it was the prince.
“Why must we come here? We are merely travelers from Stonelake,” Rainion reasoned.
“It is a rule to have to king make question you,” the guard answered. They entered the castle and were immediately shown into a room with a long table. At the end of it was the king. He was a rather young man and full of pity for his nation.
“Alright, you may go back,” he said to the guard.
“Yes your majesty.”
“Well,  I see you have come,” he said to them.
“How do you know about us?” Rainion asked.
“I sent men to find any survivors from the battle,” he answered. “They came back and told me about you, but we didn’t think you would come. However, I see that you have made a very wise decision. But now, onto some questions. I must know about you to be able to assign you to the right place or station. Tell me about yourself.”
“Well, I am nineteen, son of  a wealthy man who died during the battle of the Ages and my mother passed from mere age and grief. I am a human from the East and I’m also a trained warrior, good with the bow and arrow,” he finished.
Something seemed vaguely familiar about him. His voice perhaps? Or his appearance?  ” He asked.
“I’m seventeen, descended from the Ithil’quessir, a respected rank among Yameaus. Both my parents have died now and I have no trained skill to offer. I do have power to deal spells to those whom I choose, though I have not used those powers for sometime.”
Calmar leaned back in his chair thoughtfully and looked at them both carefully.
“Rainion, you will fight along side the bravest men we have, and if death claim you, you will be honored for generations to come. Meltoriel, you shall be guardian of the royal treasury, a place worthy of such a woman. Guards!” he called, “assign these two to their places.”

So it was that Rainion and Meltoriel arrived in the Southern Falls and life began once again.

Chapter 12 ~ A Battle Brews

Time began to speed by while the Southern Falls prepared for another assault. Calmar continued to tell people about the urgent need to believe. Darkness was seeping in from every direction. The two forces of light and darkness were fighting against time itself. Calmar was alone in the world, working for a goal that no one else could see. He was working against the flow of nature. He tried to destroy those overwhelming doubts that filled their minds. At first the people were receptive towards him and they would watch patiently into the West, waiting for those noble beasts to come and save them. But as time wore on that hope became a legend and a tale, nothing more. They became hostile towards him and evil was in their every glance. His father sat withered and dark in his room, no more than a shadow of the past. The leaves began to fall now and they knew that winter was approaching.

The day was cold and an icy wind blew over the land. Calmar stood facing the sea to the South. Thoughts crowded his mind and nothing could shake them out. He was a silhouette against the sea, tall and handsome, his hair blowing across his face. His arms laid still by his side and he breathed deeply of the watery spray. His face was dark now from the sun he had bathed in on his journey. His beard was close-shaven and clean, and yet he was weathered and ready for battle. He never knew how it felt to not be loved. He had always had his father, but now he was alone and hated. He looked back at his father’s fortress and realized that he wouldn’t be there much longer, he was dying quickly. He turned to the mountains on his left. There was someone up there, looking out to sea. It was a small figure. Calmar began walking up the path to where Aviri lived. The figure was standing on the ledge outside his cave.  He came up behind it and stood quietly watching. Suddenly someone began to laugh. It was soft and beautiful, flowing gently from its mouth. Calmar looked to where it was looking and saw two fish playing together in the water near the shore. He looked puzzled. Why was it laughing about that? And who is it? Then the figure turned gracefully around. Calmar looked carefully and saw a woman, slender and fair. Her eyes were a vibrant blue and they danced merrily. Her cape dropped from her shoulders and her hair flowed down her back. It was light and soft and wavy.  Calmar had no idea where she had come from. She looked so different from those that lived in the Southern Falls; everyone was dark and tanned.  He was dismayed that no one had told him about her, and why had she hidden here so long? What if she was a spy?
“Where do you travel from?” he asked.
“I come from the far Northern lands,” she gestured North. Her smile faded when she saw his grim face. Then she smiled again. “You are worried, aren’t you? I don’t come here to cause trouble, I came here for help and protection.” She became serious. “Tarole and his evil creatures drove out our people from their kingdom and now they are wanderers across the plains. I have been sent to ask for protection in exchange for soldiers and help. They are willing to fight on your side if you will let they stay here.” Tears now filled her eyes as she spoke and Calmar could tell she was remembering some terrible event that took place, that had scared her heart. “You have built a good fortress…one that will protect you from many a foe,” she said as she looked at the tall battlements that rose against the sky. “I’ve always wished to see the king’s great hall and walk in the halls of the brave. I’ve heard much about your castle.” Calmar looked back and the castle that stood tall and strong in the midst of houses and the town. It was built against the mountain and caves were dug behind it for extra protection in  battle. On each side of the great steps in the front were eight large flags, each having the symbol of the Southern Falls. The town bustled beneath them as people did their daily things. It had always been a happy place and Calmar remembered running up and down the king’s hall in front of his father when he was little. They had always called it Ravenna’s Keep because Calmar III had built it for her after they were married. But she died soon after and never again had it been called that.
“Your majesty? Are you alright?” she asked quietly.
“Yes, I’m fine,” Calmar answered, jerking out of a dream. Suddenly a horn began to blow and the streets below began to crawl with people. Something was happening!
“I must go now!” Calmar said quickly.
“Yes, they need you.” She smiled sadly and turned.
Camar raced down the mountainside and rushed into the royal courts. “What’s happening? Why are they heralding bad news?”
The guards came and went quickly but no one stopped to tell him. He rushed to the top and looked towards the North. There was a band of men, mostly on horses, coming swiftly towards them. They had many weapons and they rode on the wings of the wind. No one knew what to expect or who they were. So they waited in suspense on the battlements. After a few minutes Calmar stepped down and stood at the top of a stone steps. Soon the they had made their way to the castle. Their horses were restless and always moving. The leader stood gracefully at the side of his horse. Light seemed to beam off their faces, though they looked tired and sad. He turned to his men and talked in a familiar language.  “Av-’osto, there is nothing to fear,” he said. They all relaxed slightly. He turned to Calmar.
“Why have you come to the great Calmar’s fortress?” Calmar asked.
“Elen sila lumenn omentilmo,” he smiled sadly.
“Lle anta amin tu?” Calmar asked.
“Yes, but we offer you what we have now,” he said. Calmar looked around at the group of men, all so fair and light.
“What is your name and why have you come?” Calmar asked.
“My name isUrúvion, and I have come on behalf of my people. My sister has been here for quite sometime but we have not had a response. My father is still with the rest of our people. He is waiting for us to give him a report.”
“Who is your father and why would he come to me for help?” Calmar asked.
“His name is Glandur and he needs help. We offer you our swords if you will but let us stay.”
Calmar thought deeply.
“Hîr vuin, I know this would be strange since you do not know us, but we can help you. No one can overcome this power without help, we need each other.” Urúvion said.
“Did you send your sister here?” Calmar asked.
“Yes my lord, I did.”
“Dôl gîn lost! She could have died. You had no guess whether we would accept her! You fool!” Calmar cringed. He had probably ruined his only chance.
“I’m sorry,” Urúvion said humbly, “but it was my only choice, no one else would go, and my father put me in charge of these soldiers.”
“No, the apology is mine. The darkness is seeping into my mind. Please tell your father that his people may come and stay here so that we may fight this darkness together.”
A storm started brewing overhead and Calmar glanced back over his shoulder. There on the precipice over the sea stood the girl, beautiful and sad, always watching.
“She is very brave,” Urúvion said. Calmar turned back quickly.
“Yes,” he said absent-mindedly. The men and horses began to get restless. One of the men came up to Urúvion and whispered something.
“We must go now back to my father and tell him the news,” he answered.
“Tula, vasa ar’ yulna en i’mereth,” Calmar said quickly. “You will need your strength for the journey back.”
“Thank you for your kindness, but we must go quickly. Come,” he said to his men. They quickly sped off into the gathering dusk. Calmar looked back at the girl but she had left. Then he became aware of someone standing close to him. It was Tashur.
“I heard what they wanted…. you can’t let them stay here without putting us at risk! They could be spies for the Enemy,” he said.
“But trust is all we have now, and I can’t go back on my word,” he answered softly.
“What were they speaking? I did not understand those strange words.”
“That was their language, and it was our language long ago. I had almost forgotten it, it has been so long.” Calmar reminisced about when he was little, everything was so different then.
“Have you spoken to that girl in the mountains?” Tashur asked.
“Yes, briefly,” he said.
“What did she say?”
“Nothing,” Calmar turned away bitterly. Why did everyone have to pry? And yet no one told him about anything, even when he was the rightful heir to the throne? The rain began to fall gently on his face. Grief overtook him as he thought of his father, alone in his fortress with only days left to live. He was afraid though to cry because he knew as soon as that tear fell, they would never stop again. Never had the darkness been so blinding.

That night he lay on his bed in the darkness. Decisions and worry were heavy upon his shoulders. He began to dream, but it was a strange dream. He was in a dark room with only one window, and a smoke blew began to seep in from under the door. Soon he began to choke and cough and until he could hardly stand. The window was too high to climb but it was his only choice. So he started to climb up the brick walls, digging his fingers into the cracks. Then a light shone through the window and blew bid the smoke to leave. He looked up and saw a familiar face, one that he was fond of. But who was it? Then a quiet voice echoed in his ears…. it became louder and louder….. until there was darkness.

The next morning Calmar woke up to a great noise. Quickly he went to the look-out and watched as the red sun slowly set with a foreboding groan…. it was not seen again for four weeks. Real darkness ruled them and ensnared them until each one groaned under its weight. Questions were posed that no one could answer, and so they lived in uncertainty. Calmar walked often up the mountain to talk to Aviri about this turn of events. He didn’t have answers either but he seemed to deal with this darkness better, after all he had lived in darkness when he was little.  On a cold and rainy day Calmar found that Aviri was not in his cave. Calmar walked cautiously around, wondering what could have happened that would take Aviri from his constant watch. He heard gentle footsteps behind him and he turned to see. It was the girl, beautiful and shining amidst the dark and dreary world.
“You are looking for someone, who is it?” she asked.
“I was just looking for Aviri, do you know where he went?”
“No, he has been gone many days now. But don’t worry, he’ll be back soon.” She looked over the sea with restless eyes. The waves seemed to pull her very soul with them, every tide pulling her closer.
“Who are you? What is your name?” Calmar asked suddenly.
“Why do you ask now? You have neglected this important question for quite some time,” she answered. “I am from the Northern Men, a people both respectable and strange. We are few and the evil is growing. We were very large and prosperous, but soon there will none left to inherit the riches passed down through the ages. My name is,” she turned quickly around and faced him, “Nieriel, and I am the daughter of the great king, Glandur, king of the Northern Lands.” Calmar whispered her name quietly to himself. A red light escaped through the clouds and cast an eerie shadow to everything. It shined through her hair and she seemed on fire. Her eyes shined with a brightness he could barely endure.
“You love the sea don’t you?” he asked.
“Yes, it is my only constant friend. Our people think of the sea as a person,” she sighed longingly.
“Here then, this will be of more use to you than me,” he said as he handed her a clear and small bottle with water inside. The water sparkled with radiance. “It is part of the sea, and has healing benefits as well. Take care that you do not lose it.”
She looked closely at it and smiled. “Amin harmuva onalle e’ cormamin.” Calmar looked at her face. A shadow passed over his face. Something stirred within him.
“Lle naa vanima,” he smiled. She reminded him greatly of Adanessa, for she was very beautiful as well. But something made him guard his heart, lest the love he once had for her would grasp Nieriel. There were some things better left alone, yet something about her called out to him. No, he thought, Adanessa will always be mine. He fondled the ring about his neck. It seemed an ancient piece of memory, but the night still remained vivid his mind.
“Thank you. You are very kind to let us stay here, and you will be rewarded for your kindness. I must go now,” she said hurriedly, and walked away.
He looked towards the North at the forest swaying softly in the breeze. I have a kingdom to rule, he thought, I can not be distracted from such things that call my attention. He began walking down the mountain, stumbling on the wet and dirty rocks. No one will get in the way of the throne, it is where I belong, and only me.
When he got back to the castle his father was sitting in the old hall on his throne; a strange place for such an old and failing man. Guards were standing around watching out through the door for some intrusion to unsettle their regular life. A small band of men played their pipes and horns in a mournful and wailing way, another reminder of the dark. Even music wasn’t the same as the darkness seeped into every crack and crevice of life. Now all he saw when he beheld his father’s throne was a way to stay rich and powerful, a way to rule the lands with a single command. Then something stirred in his head, and he realized what was happening to him. He was becoming a power monger, looking out for his good only. What would his father think if he were sane? He looked down at the bottle of sea, and his heart agonized as never before. He had pledged honor and loyalty to his country and now he was betraying them. He slipped to his knees and wept mournfully in grief, grief about everything that had happened and the battle that would inevitably come. If only there were a way to save all these helpless souls trapped in this eclipse. If there was some way to rid them of the grief that killed my father. But he could think of nowhere that they would be safe, they would have to battle the brewing storm together. Footsteps were heard in the hall and a guard approached him.
“They have returned, your Majesty,” he said quietly.
“Send them in and have their horses well looked after. They are a prized possession to them,” Calmar answered.
“Yes!” He left the room with resounding footsteps. A few moments later Glandur and Urúvion appeared. They were dressed in rich colors and seemed to bear no sign of the toilsome trip. Someone approached them from behind and stood quietly listening. He was fair and tall, with a kind and soft face.
“And who are you?” Calmar asked.
“I am Glandur’s second son,Calanon leader of the royal guard and warriors. This is not the way I would have wished to meet you. These are hard times, but we will endure,” he ended. The Court Guards stared disdainfully at him; strangers were not welcome during times like these. Calmar caught their looks and sighed quietly. Some evil was brewing in their minds and it could only grow.
“Come! Sit while we may,” he said.
“There is nothing we have, with which we can repay you, your Majesty,” Glandur said royally.
“Say nothing of that! In such times as these we must fight together. There is no other way of survival in these corrupt and wicked times. And whether we all die together, it is up to fate,” he added mournfully. So they sat down together around a long table and were served drinks and bread to their satisfaction, though the Northerners ate sparingly. Suddenly it became very quiet and they all sat staring at the statues decorating the hall, though now they only collected dust.
“I feel that we are drawing near the end of the ages,” Glandur spoke.
“Yes, it is a sad thing,” Calmar lamented.
“But it doesn’t have to be,” Calanon responded with haste. He was very persistent and outspoken. “This calls for a gathering of the armies, but together we can fight the coming darkness and restore peace and happiness to the lands.” Silence gathered around them.
“What armies?” Urúvion asked.
“There are many cities that we have not even considered! Dormount, Westerdragon, Linwyn, Stonelake, Bluehaven, Fairfay, and that’s just in the East. Many people are suffering from the darkness and will be willing to fight if it means help.”
The men sat and considered these things and soon Calmar spoke, “There is also Sathrion, Lana Allanar, and Lafa Anore in the West. My father often visited them when he was younger. But they are all a good two days journey from here. It might be too late.”
“But we can’t sit here and wait until all hope is lost; we must do something!” he pulled out a map he had in his bag and looked it over carefully. Calmar thought of what his father told him long ago about the King of the West, and he considered suggesting that they wait. But not everyone believed that hope and it would be rash to assume that they also knew about Him. After all they came from the far Northern town of Lighthaven, leagues from the Southern Falls.
“Alright, then we must send a party to both the East and the West in search of armies that are willing to fight with us.” He said bravely. “Perhaps this is rash, but it is our only chance.”
“We must be wary in these times but not forget our valiant spirit.” Glandur replied. There was nothing else to do and Calmar knew that well. The people were becoming discontent and wearisome of this life; always living on the other side of death, never knowing when it will rear its head in their lives. Too long had they lived like this and too long had they endured the wrath of Tarole and his evil. Calmar stroked his chin and looked sadly around at the men. For a moment he let his mind wander. Their eyes were bright blue like the sea; their skin was fair and their faces were soft and royal. He was almost ashamed to be by them. His face was dark and care-worn with soft brown eyes and a beard covering his strong chin and cheek bones. But he felt so unlike all of them.
“I’ve seen much in my life,” he said. “But nothing quite like this. If this darkness does not cease than we will all die, and I will die beside my people.”
“We must form a plan,” Urúvion said. “Something that at the very least will buy time.”
“Let me see the map closely,” Glandur said. It was faded and an ancient scrawl was written over the towns. He looked carefully at it and considered different ideas.
“I think our best plan will be to send out three parties that will go to the West, East, and down to Lynwyn. They will work their way up the East and West sides and as soon as they have an army they will return to the Southern Falls and surround it, cutting the enemy off. The only problem is Sathrion. It lies so close to Tarole’s Kingdom that some vigilant eye might see us gathering troops.”
“Unless,” Urúvion said slowly, “Maethorion reaches the King of the West.” Everyone was quiet. Suddenly Calmar remembered something as if from a dream.
“I think I have something that will help us,” he said holding up the horn.
“What is that?” Urúvion asked.
“This is the horn of Maethorion. He gave it to me for when I needed him again.”
“Again?” Calanon asked.
“Well, it’s a long and sad tale. Almost too sad to tell, but I will tell you because it may help us.” So he began telling them his adventure which seemed so long ago.

“So it sounds as if the next thing is to find a maiden brave enough to leave everything behind and talk to the King, am I right?” Glandur asked dismally.
“I had forgotten about it because I could find no one willing for this quest. But I have met one woman who seems fearless. One whose heart beats for her people and country,” Calmar said surely.
“And who is this noble woman?” Calanon asked.
“Your sister,” he responded quietly. Surprise raced across their faces and Glandur stared out the windows, as if he had known this was coming.
“She is but a girl!” Calanon said distressfully.
“She is a woman,” Glandur corrected. “She would be willing, but I am not so sure. Perhaps someone could go with her, someone that would protect her.”
Calmar shook his head sadly, “Maethorion said ‘A woman only’ otherwise it will not work.” It seemed hopeless once again. “I don’t like doing this any more than you do, and I would do anything to ensure her protection. But there is nothing we can do now. It is up to her.”
“Then it is time to let Nieriel go. She has been trapped here much too long. I can see behind those longing looks. She is a warrior at heart.” Glandur said unflinchingly. His eyes filled with tears and he loosed his grip on the chair, easing back gently. Calmar felt shunned. It’s all because of me, he thought. Then he remembered the spell that had been put on all of their land. One of his family had to be killed in order for this spell to be forever. Slowly their number were dwindling because of all the people who had sucumbed to the spell and were now in the Eastern Hills.
“Why can’t I go with her?” Calmar asked.
“Because he won’t accept that,” Glandur said. “She must go alone.”
“Any day now Tarole’s army will come out of those woods and ambush us. We don’t have enough men to fight them off!” Urúvion said.
“That’s why you came. You promised that your men would help us fight,” Calmar answered quickly.
“Yes, and we hold to our promises. But if they have as many as I have guessed than we are sorely outnumbered.”Urúvion replied sadly.
“Then it is decided. She must go or we are lost.” Calmar said. “Shall I tell her?”
“Yes, I think she would take it best from you,” Glandur said stoically. Calmar looked at him doubtedly but stood up from the table.
“She will be led by Maethorion, so she won’t be alone,” Calmar reassured. It felt like he was hanging on to a hope that would not last. He slowly walked out of the court into the blinding rain. There were blurred foot steps in the mud and yet life seemed absent from the town. He looked toward the mountains searching for that familiar figure, but it was gone like everything else. Things were leaving Calmar’s grasp and he was seeing things happen that never had he imagined would happen. Where was the world he remembered and loved? Was it too much to wish it back again? “Mani marte?” he questioned. His hands clenched together at his side and sweat rolled down his face. Suddenly a wind came up and blew the leaves and debris around, rousing him from his dream. He felt something strange stir within him.