Eternal Forest: The Shadow of the Throne

by Faith Naff

  “Take that back!” the centaur snapped as she shot up onto her hooves. No chair could hold a centaur, so she sat upon a padded rug on the floor.

  “Please, sisters,” Silvermist insisted. “There is no need for this bickering. Besides, the answer is right in front of us.”

  “What do you mean?” Moonbeam questioned.

  “The balisekts will receive the very land their brethren destroyed in the battle,” Silvermist said. “The unclaimed Savage Lands between the Lands of Order and Tranquility will be their home.”

  “That’s perfect!” Galdaren said joyfully. “Let them work to prepare their own place in Her forest just as our ancestors did.”

  “The battle already drove the goblins and trolls away,” Rune said. “All they’ll have to do is nurture the land back to life to claim it as their own.”

  “There’s still one problem though,” Moonbeam said. “If they control the Savage Lands along the road, they will become the gatekeepers to Tranquility. Are we sure we want them in such a position?”

  “Their territory will not lie on both sides of the road,” Silvermist answered. “The forests east of the road will be their home. Everything to the west will remain outside the Lands of Order. In time, perhaps, Tranquility can claim the western Savage Lands and bring civility all the way to the faerie border.”

  “A truly inspired decision,” Moonbeam said. “No longer would visitors to the Temple have to travel through such dangers.”

  “Tranquility has always been surrounded by the chaos of the Savage Lands like a light in the darkness,” Ladybug added. “Bridging the gap would make the Temple feel closer to the territories, and our tribes would rejoice.”

  “Her divine wisdom flows from you as strongly as ever,” Galdaren said.

  “It is settled then,” Silvermist said confidently. “We will send word for the balisekt leadership and inform them of our decision.”

  “Is there any other business?” Ladybug questioned.

  “Like an update on your fugitives?” Rune scoffed.

  Silvermist clenched her fists at her side, but maintained her composure. “There is no need for an update,” she said as calmly as she could. “If any of you had leads on their whereabouts, I’m confident you would have informed me without provocation. This meeting is adjourned. Lady go with you.”

  “Lady go with you, Grand Seryan,” the others said together.

  “Forelle,” Silvermist called to the centaurian seryan.

  “My Lady?” she asked before stepping away from the table.

  “Go to the village and fetch the human acolyte called Ilderra,” Silvermist instructed. “Bring her to me at once.”

  “As you command, my Lady,” Forelle said with a nod. Her hooves clicked loudly on the floor as she took her leave. Ladybug and Rune left together, engaging in private conversation as they headed for the door. The human and the elf stood and turned for the stairs, but Silvermist called out for them to stop.

  “What is it, my Lady?” Galdaren asked.

  “I need you both here when I meet with this acolyte,” Silvermist said.

  “We do not know the reason for her summoning,” the human said. “What need do you have of us?”

  “I will fill you in as we wait for her,” Silvermist said. “A great change is coming.”

  Chapter 6

  Ilderra’s heart nearly stopped when they finally called for her. The animal skin covering the entrance to her hut was moved to the side, revealing two, armor-clad soldiers from the Grand Seryan’s army. The two elves, though standing proudly, still carried their wounds from the battle just weeks before. One had his arm in a sling, while a white cloth was tied over the head of the other, covering the socket where his right eye used to be. Their armor had been cleaned, but the dents covering the once perfect smoothness of the metal reflected the candlelight coming from the back of the room.

  The soldiers stepped to the sides, allowing Forelle, the centaurian seryan, to enter the hut. Ilderra and Tellwyn both jumped to their feet—and hooves respectively—and bowed their heads. Neither could recall a time when someone of such standing in the Temple even walked the dirt pathways of the acolyte village, let alone entered one of its homes. For Ilderra, it was just another reminder that strange forces were at work in Tranquility, and they all seemed to be revolving around her.

  “Are you Ilderra, acolyte?” Forelle asked upon entering.

  Ilderra nodded her head, but it was difficult to tell with how her body was trembling. “I...I am...Great One…”

  “You are summoned to the Temple,” Forelle said. “Come with us.”

  “As you wish,” Ilderra squeaked out. She looked back to Tellwyn, who managed to mouth a silent “good luck” to her before the animal skin fell between them. Between the acolyte village and the Temple, Ilderra was treated to another long, silent journey through the trees in the company of someone high above her status. She considered herself blessed that this would be a journey lasting a few minutes and not nearly two days.

  As they approached the Temple, Ilderra tried to foretell her fate by reading the expression on Forelle’s face. She saw no anger, but not any joy either. If she had done something terrible, certainly the seryan’s expression would be angry or scornful.

  “You can stop staring at me, acolyte,” Forelle said without turning to look at her. The sudden disruption of the silence nearly made Ilderra trip over her own foot. “I assure you, if I knew why the Grand Seryan wanted you, I would have told you.”

  “Did she seem angry?” Ilderra asked. She knew it wasn’t her place to question, but she couldn’t help herself anymore. After nearly two full days of wondering, her nerves had reached the breaking point. She had to know something.

  Forelle smiled as she looked down on the obviously frightened human. She could just imagine being in her position. As a seryan, she was used to being summoned to the Temple, but it was almost unheard of for an acolyte to receive such a call. Whatever Silvermist wanted with this girl, for good or bad, would certainly be a big deal for more than just her. “She didn’t seem angry at all.”

  Ilderra took a deep breath. “Thank you,” she said. She wanted the statement to bring her comfort, but it didn’t. A lack of evidence that she was in trouble was no sure indication that she wasn’t. Even if she wasn’t being brought up on charges for some unknown crime, she still must have done something quite remarkable. After days of contemplation, she still had no idea what that was.

  The soft earth beneath her feet transitioned to smooth stone as they reached the foot of the bridge. The doors to the Temple were already wide open. A soldier stood on either side of the entrance, as still as the mountains on the horizon. Ilderra could feel her knees shaking with each step up the bridge. There was a knot in her stomach that was making her nauseated. The last thing she needed to do was throw up in the Lady’s house of worship, so she swallowed hard.

  The air inside the Temple felt cooler than outside. The smells of dirt and vegetation disappeared, replaced by an environment devoid of any scent at all. Even the tiniest sound seemed to echo repeatedly off the stone walls, bouncing their way to the domed ceiling high over her head. As she walked, her eyes beheld the statues of Grand Seryans long gone. The stone figures towered over her. There were fewer of them now after the battle, for the demons had destroyed some beyond repair. Those that were left bore tiny nicks and chips in their once perfectly smooth surfaces. Their empty eyes cast judgment on her for crimes she didn’t yet know; at least, that’s how her mind perceived it.

  But the statue in the middle was different. At the center of the Temple, the towering likeness of Shimmer—the great elf who ended the Blight two hundred years ago—stood with loving hands outstretched and a kind smile warming her otherwise lifeless face. Ilderra loved that statute. Seeing it had always brought peace to her heart before, and a peaceful heart was exactly what she needed in this moment.

  Rounding the statue, Ilderra saw the Grand Seryan herself standing at the top
of the stairs. Her hands were folded in front of her and her expression was impossible to read. At the table behind her, Galdaren and Moonbeam sat next to one another. All eyes were on her, but no one said a word. Her legs felt too weak to carry her as she reached the base of the stairs. She wrapped her arms around herself as though the temperature had dropped. With the most powerful women in all the forest looking down on her, Ilderra felt ashamed for something she hadn’t even done. She kept her head down, unable to look the Grand Seryan in the eye.

  “Welcome, Acolyte Ilderra,” Silvermist said. Her hands extended out towards the trembling girl with her palms turned upward.

  Ilderra finally raised her head, but her emotional turmoil could no longer be hidden. Twin tears raced down her cheeks and her lower lip quivered. Her body trembled with each fast, raspy breath she took. “Your Grace, please forgive me,” she begged. “I don’t know what I did, but I swear on my life that I will make amends for…”

  Silvermist chuckled lightly, but her laughter carried a sincere desire to calm the poor girl’s troubled soul. “Oh, my dear child,” she said as she lovingly took the acolyte’s trembling hands. “Why in Lady’s name would you think you’d done something wrong?”

  Ilderra’s chest raised and lowered with each hysterical breath she took. “Why else would you summon for a lowly acolyte like me?” she questioned.

  Silvermist smiled. “I promise you, I brought you here to share the gladdest of tidings.” The Grand Seryan led the distraught human to the table and pulled out a chair next to Galdaren. “Please, sit. Rest assured, you have nothing to fear.”

  Ilderra sat in the chair provided. The chance to be off her trembling legs was exactly what she needed. Though her heart was still pounding, her breathing had slowed and her tears had stopped. Her biggest worry was now behind her, but she still didn’t know why she was here. The Grand Seryan had said it was good news, but just hearing it wasn’t bad news was good news enough.

  Silvermist took her seat at the head of the table. Her new guest was directly to her right. Moonbeam sat to her left and Galdaren sat to Ilderra’s right. “I know you’ve waited long enough, so I’ll get right to the point,” she promised. “Have you heard of a human named Lady Viyana?”

  “I have,” Ilderra answered. “She is the leader of Meadowgold and all the human territory. I heard she fought beside us during the demon battle, though I never saw her personally.”

  “I did,” Silvermist said. “I watched her fight with the kind of strength and skill that could only come from divine blessings. Viyana is a true champion of the Lady.” She pointed down the stairs towards the statue of Shimmer at the center of the Temple. Colorful beams of sunlight from the skylights above shined down on the golden urn placed at the base of the statue. “It is thanks to her efforts that the Ashes of Shimmer survived the battle, and will continue to bless future generations of the Lady’s chosen.”

  “What a remarkable woman,” Ilderra said. “I hope to accomplish so much in my lifetime.”

  “How wonderful you should say that,” Galdaren said.

  Ilderra turned towards her. “What do you mean?” she asked. To be conversing privately with a trio of seryans felt like something out of a dream.

  “A letter came from Meadowgold a few days ago,” Silvermist said, regaining the acolyte’s attention. “It was penned by Lady Viyana herself, and shared the most delightful news.”

  “What did it say?” Ilderra questioned.

  “It seems your tribe held a very special vote after the Balisekt War ended,” Silvermist said. “For the first time in history, they have elected to have a high priestess serve as the spiritual leader of Meadowgold.”

  Ilderra’s eyes widened. Her shoulders rose with the deep breath she took. “How wonderful!” she said with a joyful smile.

  “Think of what this means,” Galdaren said enthusiastically. “At long last, our race will be nurtured and guided under the watchful eye of a Temple representative. Imagine the blessings that will be bestowed upon Meadowgold.”

  “The elves and faeries have enjoyed countless generations of guidance from many a high priestess,” Moonbeam added. “Your race has truly made a tremendous step forward in their spiritual journey.”

  “But why tell me like this?” Ilderra questioned. “What do I have to do with anything?”

  Silvermist reached her right hand across the table towards Ilderra. “My dear acolyte, you will be the High Priestess of Meadowgold.”

  For a moment, Ilderra forgot how to breathe. She just sat as still and silent as the statues while the weight of those unfathomable words fell upon her. A cold sweat formed on her brow and her skin turned whiter than fresh snow. When she finally regained the ability to speak, her mind forsook all prior understandings of civility and reverence. “That can’t be,” she said to none of them in particular. Her eyes stared blankly over Moonbeam’s shoulder and down the stairs. “Surely there must be a mistake.”

  “There is no mistake,” Silvermist assured. “This was divinely inspired and…”

  “But I’m only an acolyte,” Ilderra said, rudely cutting off her spiritual leader. “I’m not even a priestess. Surely there is a human priestess who is much more deserving of such a title.”

  Silvermist sighed. “My dear human, the Balisekt War has given us challenges to face long after the last drop of blood was spilled.”

  “Ilderra, there are no more human priestesses,” Galdaren said somberly. “They all perished in the battle.”

  “Another acolyte then?” she retorted. “One with more training and experience than I?”

  “You have shown more promise than any other acolyte from our tribe,” Galdaren said. “Your name was being whispered for priestess until this new development came about.”

  Ilderra’s head was spinning. Her mind searched for something...anything that could take the weight of this responsibility away from her. It was unfathomable. Her own journey in the Temple had only started five years ago. She’d just recently taken on a student. A high priestess was someone that led an entire tribe. She was their spiritual guide, their chosen protector. How could she possibly fill such a role?

  Seeing the turmoil behind the acolyte’s eyes, Silvermist stood and made her way around the corner of the table. Her hands rested on Ilderra’s shoulders. “I know you are frightened,” she said. “It is a great responsibility to take on. But the Lady will be with you, more so than she ever has before. Through you she will work many miracles. You will be the vessel of her divine will, and the savior of your entire race.”

  Ilderra knew the Grand Seryan was trying to make her feel better, but her words only filled her heart with more dread. It wasn’t just the title and the responsibility that scared her. Even after the years had passed, she hadn’t forgotten her reputation in Meadowgold. She couldn’t even find her place amongst the tribe as a commoner. As the high priestess, with the whole territory depending on her, her failings would only be magnified. At the moment, she was only a memory amongst the village as a clumsy and awkward girl. Now, she would go down in history as such.

  “I don’t have a choice, do I?” she said meekly. Her tears returned. Compared to this, being in trouble for something was starting to feel preferable.

  “It is destiny,” Silvermist said. “We cannot fight our destinies. They are set forth by the Lady herself, long before we are even born. Why else do you think the call came at such a time? The human priestesses gave their lives defending this Temple, and now you will usher in a new age for your race.”

  “So…that’s a no then?” Ilderra asked in a high-pitched voice and not quite laughing.

  Silvermist chuckled warmly. “I’m afraid so.” The Grand Seryan sat on the table and placed a crooked finger under Ilderra’s chin. She lifted her head, letting her tear-filled eyes sparkle against the sunlight shining in from above. “Do not be afraid. She will be with you, and She will not let you fail.”

  Ilderra swallowed hard and nodded. As frightened as she was, it
seemed this was the path the Lady had chosen for her. If she had no say-so in the matter, all she could do was face it with all the strength she could muster. She clenched her fists, bit her lower lip, and took a deep breath. “Very well, then,” she said as calmly as possible. Her body was still recovering in the aftermath of her hysterical tears, but she was regaining control—for the moment at least. “What do I need to do?”

  Convinced that the young human needed no more consoling, Silvermist leaned back in her seat. “A group of acolytes will accompany you to Meadowgold,” she explained. “Lady Viyana is expecting you in just under a week. From what I hear, she has planned a grand celebration to mark your arrival.”

  The thought of a big, fancy party in her honor didn’t make Ilderra feel any better. “What of Tellwyn, the student under my instruction?”

  “We will find a new mentor for her,” Silvermist assured. “Her training will continue as you step into your new role.”

  Ilderra didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t have any other questions, but she hadn’t found her answers satisfactory so far. Despite the Grand Seryan’s explanations of how and why this assignment had come to her, nothing was making her feel capable of rising to the challenge. Perhaps being a high priestess required more faith than she possessed.

  “Take the rest of the evening to meditate and pray,” Silvermist suggested. “Your convoy doesn’t leave until morning. Go prepare yourself, both physically and spiritually.”

  “Yes, Grand Seryan,” Ilderra said. She rose from her chair and descended the stairs towards the Temple door. The room, cold before, now felt as icy as a winter wind. Before she passed the statue of Shimmer, Silvermist called out to her again. Ilderra turned back towards the stairs.

  “Congratulations,” Silvermist said proudly. “Today you’ve entered the pages of history.”

  Ilderra’s stomach turned again, but she did her best to hide it. “Thank you, Grand Seryan.” She hastened her exit, wanting to be out of the Temple before anyone else wished to speak to her. The closer she got to the doors, the faster her steps became. Once she passed through the entryway and emerged into the sunshine, she was nearly running. By the middle of the bridge, she was running. The tears returned again, falling from her cheeks and landing on the bridge as she raced towards the tree line. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her body, trying to offer her comfort where nothing else could.