Elvangar fl-6

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “What type of magic did they teach you?” inquired Garl.

  “Fireballs and force bolts,” answered MistyTrail. “I was able to learn some healing, but not much else.”

  “You are different from the humans who taught you,” sighed Garl. “Elven magic is of the light. It is the magic of nature in that it gathers life forces only. It sounds as if the humans gather the power of just about anything. I can see how learning some of those spells would be very difficult for you.”

  Eltor and Caldal saw the girls and came racing across the glade. They slid to a halt and flopped down on the ground near the small group.

  “Tayo,” greeted Eltor. “Do you have free time today? Caldal and I are planning a hike into the jungle to go exploring.”

  “Tayo,” replied MistyTrail as she cocked her head as if pondering a new thought. “I find it interesting that the elves use the same form of greeting as the Sakovans. The Omungans never used it. Why did the Sakovans?”

  “The Sakovans used Tayo?” questioned the old man. “That is strange for a human to use an elven greeting. I am beginning to become very curious about how you came to be raised by these humans. Tell me about it.”

  “Maybe later,” Mistake smiled at the boys. “We need some more time on our studies today.”

  Eltor and Caldal nodded and dashed into the jungle. Garl watched them leave and shook his head.

  “If only they would put that energy to some good use,” he grumbled. “You both grew up in different lands you said. Tell me of your beginnings.”

  “I don’t remember anything about it,” shrugged MistyTrail. “I grew up always believing that I was Sakovan. It was not until Mistake arrived looking for me that I actually learned of how I came to be a Sakovan. Some fishermen picked me up at sea during a terrible storm. They saved my life by giving up their own. I never even knew them.”

  “These Sakovans adopted you and raised you as one of their own?” asked Garl.

  “I was Sakovan,” shrugged MistyTrail. “I was one of them. Never did they hint that I was not.”

  “Interesting,” mused Garl. “The Sakovans accepted an elven child without question. That is a better reception than the one from you own people. What about you Mistake?”

  “My life was not as nice,” frowned Mistake. “I was also rescued from the sea by a fisherman. He took me home to his wife who hated me. He died not longer afterwards. His wife abused me and called me Mistake. I eventually ran away. I wandered for years, stealing food when I became hungry, sleeping in the woods or an alleyway. It was not until I met Rejji that I actually began to trust anyone.”

  “Rejji?” echoed Garl. “A boyfriend?”

  Mistake frowned, not at the question, but about her thoughts regarding the answer. “I like Rejji a great deal,” she nodded. “He has always stood by me no matter what I wanted to do. He is the Astor that opened Angragar.”

  “The Astor,” mused Garl. “That name has not heard of since the Prophecies of Kieran.”

  “Do these prophecies tell of a Star and a Torak, too?” asked MistyTrail.

  “They do,” nodded Garl. “Why do you ask?”

  “We know them all,” grinned Mistake. “I have seen the mural of them in Angragar. We were with them when the jungle faded away from the city.”

  “We helped them vanquish the hellsouls of Angragar,” MistyTrail added excitedly.

  Garl suddenly rose and began pacing. He shook his head and stared at the girls and then paced again. Just as suddenly as he rose, the old man sat back down on the log.

  “I must go to Morada soon,” he declared. “Perhaps we can all go together.”

  “I would prefer to stay here,” frowned Mistake. “There is nothing in Morada that interests me. Why do you want to go?”

  “I want to reread the Prophecies of Kieran,” answered Garl. “I remember most of them, but I have to be sure of what they say. How did the two of you ever find each other?”

  Mistake grinned and pulled her carozit from her pack. “The Sage of the Mountain gave me this magical carozit,” beamed Mistake. “It showed me how far away I was from MistyTrail. When you hold it upside down like this,” she demonstrated, “the balls touch, but that is only because we are so close. When we were apart, the balls would not touch.”

  “A magical carozit?” mused Garl as he reached for the carozit.

  Garl held the carozit upside down. The balls fell down but did not quite touch. He stared at the carozit for several silent moments before tears welled up in his eyes.

  “What is it?” asked MistyTrail. “Do you have a relative nearby?”

  “A sister,” nodded Garl. “She lives in Morada. I have not seen her in years. I must visit her when I go to the city.”

  “Is the queen your sister?” Mistake asked with suspicion.

  “Heavens no,” Garl shook his head. “My sister is around my age. She is near the end of her days. Yes, I must visit her when I go to the city.”

  Garl handed the carozit to MistyTrail instead of Mistake. Mistake reached over to take it back and Garl’s eyes widened as the carozit was passed.

  “Do not put it away yet,” urged Garl as he sat erect and wiped his eyes. “Hold it out between you and MistyTrail.”

  Mistake frowned with confusion, but she obeyed.

  “Put your hand on your sister’s,” instructed the old man. “I am sure that I saw the balls jump when you passed it to Mistake.”

  MistyTrail placed her hand on Mistake’s hand. The balls immediately moved apart. Garl nodded enthusiastically.

  “About the same distance apart as when I held it,” Garl said excitedly. “You can put it away now.”

  “I do not understand,” frowned Mistake as she placed the carozit in her pack. “What does it mean?”

  “I can only assume,” offered Garl, “but it appears that the carozit reacts to your closest living relative. For you that is MistyTrail, and for her it is you, but when you both put your hands on it, it indicates the closest living relative to both of you.”

  “That means that we have family in Elvangar?” Mistake asked excitedly.

  “As I understand it,” nodded the old man. “The distance appeared to be the same as for my sister who lives in Morada. Let me ask you some more questions.”

  “Alright,” nodded Mistake. “Anything if it will help us find our family.”

  “I cannot assure that,” replied Garl. “It is hard for me to understand how you both happened to be rescued from sea, but in two very different locations. When a ship sinks, it does not move very far. How can this be?”

  “The Sakovans called it the Year of the Storm,” answered MistyTrail. “It was the fiercest storm ever remembered. Many people died both at sea and on the land. Many homes were destroyed.”

  “Plus our homes were not that far apart,” interjected Mistake. “They are a tremendous distance by land, but by sea it is not all that great.”

  “The Year of the Storm,” nodded Garl. “This just keeps getting more interesting with each bit of information divulged. I am leaving for Morada first thing in the morning. You may spend the day tomorrow playing with the boys or practicing what I have taught you. I will leave that choice up to you.”

  “Perhaps we should go with you,” MistyTrail said. “If we have relatives in the city, we must find them.”

  “No,” Garl said emphatically. “Finding your relative must wait for now. You will both stay in the village.”

  “Why?” frowned Mistake. “A moment ago you were offering to let us accompany you. Why can’t we go?”

  “I do not think it would be safe for you,” replied the old man. “There are some things that you must trust me on. This is one of them. You are not to leave the village until I return.”

  * * *

  “So you have decided to visit today?” glared Queen Alycia.

  “I apologize for my absence yesterday,” bowed Tamar. “Something came up that I felt required my personal attention. I trust Rattal brought the reports?” />
  “He did indeed,” smirked the queen. “What could possibly have been so important that it required your personal attention?”

  “There are some security issues in Elvangar that are murky and undefined,” answered Tamar. “Did you hear of the arrest of Vitalora last night?”

  “Of course I heard,” frowned the queen. “An elder being arrested for treason is hardly something that would escape my notice. What does that have to do with my question?”

  “It is one of the murky details that concern me,” Tamar replied as he tried to gauge how far to take the discussion. “I was a witness last night to Vitalora’s supposed treason. That elder is no more guilty of treason than he is of being a newborn. Vitalora was speaking passionately about the well being of Elvangar. He did not propose anything treasonous.”

  “So you say,” glared the queen. “You will have your chance to testify at his trial. I am a little disappointed that you would admit to being a part of that treasonous discussion, Tamar. I have worked hard to keep your father’s name off of the arrest warrants because I care a great deal for you, but I cannot allow treason within Elvangar. The house of Kieran has sat on this throne for thousands of years. It will continue to do so. I suggest that you dwell on your position carefully.”

  Tamar frowned as he realized that the arrest of Vitalora had the blessing of the queen. Her threat to his position and his father’s greatly disturbed the high officer.

  “I request an immediate leave of my duties,” replied Tamar. “Perhaps I do need time to think things out.”

  “Request denied,” scowled the queen. “You have been placed in a high position because you have skills to offer our people. You cannot walk away from those skills because you have let your mind become confused with the deranged ranting of an old man. You will continue with your duties, but you are instructed not to leave this city. Rather than traipsing off to remote villages to meet with foreigners, you are to prepare the defenses of Elvangar to withstand a human attack.”

  “Denied?” protested Tamar.

  “You are dismissed,” declared the queen as she turned away and strode out of the room.

  Tamar stood staring at the empty room and shaking his head. He turned and stormed out of the room. He had learned several things that disturbed him. He now knew that the queen was having him followed, and he knew that the queen had authorized the arrest of Vitalora. There was something that the queen feared greatly, but he could not tell what it was. He was so involved in his thoughts that he did not see Rattal slip from around the corner and into the queen’s throne room.

  As soon as Rattal entered the chamber, the queen entered from her personal quarters. Rattal bowed low to the queen.

  “Tamar has been restricted to the city,” stated Queen Alycia. “If he tries to leave, have him arrested.”

  “As you wish,” smiled Rattal.

  “I also want a squad sent to Etta immediately,” she continued. “The law prohibits the false claiming of ancestry, and I intend to enforce it. I want the foreign girls arrested.”

  “For falsely claiming their ancestry?” frowned Rattal. “Wouldn’t a more serious offense be worth waiting for?”

  “What is more serious than conspiring to seize the throne?” asked the queen. “It was not just any ancestry they claimed for themselves. They claimed to be of the royal line of Kieran. What purpose is there to such a false claim unless they are working with others to overthrow the rightful queen and replace her?”

  “I will see to it immediately,” assured Rattal.

  “I also suspect Volox to be involved in this plot,” the queen continued. “See what proof you can establish.”

  “But he is Tamar’s father,” Rattal pointed out.

  “Tamar had a chance to protect him,” shrugged the queen. “He failed to do so. You have your orders. Carry them out.”

  Rattal bowed low and exited the room.

  * * *

  Garl stood in the park across from the Hall of the Society of Mages. He watched the comings and goings of mages, some he remembered from years past, others he did not recognize. When he saw Jandra approaching the hall, he hurried across the park and intercepted him before he could enter the building.

  “Garl?” Jandra greeted with surprise. “What are you doing in Morada? I thought you were banned from the city?”

  “I am,” shrugged Garl. “Come across the street to the park with me. I need your help.”

  “I am forbidden to speak with you,” frowned Jandra. “You know the rules.”

  “You have already spoken to me,” grumbled Garl. “A little bit more won’t hurt.”

  Jandra looked around nervously. He appeared anxious to enter the hall and put the old man behind him.

  “I taught you everything that you know,” grumbled Garl. “The least you can do for me is hear me out. Come to the park.”

  Jandra sighed and nodded reluctantly. “Make it quick,” he said softly. “I do not wish to be seen with you.”

  Garl led the way into the park. He immediately cast an illusion around the two of them so that they would not be seen talking.

  “What are you doing in the city?” asked Jandra.

  “I need access to the royal vaults,” answered Garl. “It is very important.”

  “You are not even allowed into the city,” Jandra shook his head. “If Karaza found out that you were here, your life would be forfeit. I cannot get involved. Whatever would you want in the royal vaults anyway?”

  “The Prophecies of Kieran,” replied Garl. “I must reread them immediately. It has been too long for my old memories to remember them completely.”

  “It’s out of the question,” Jandra shook his head. “Look, I feel bad about what happened to you, but I must abide by the rules of the Society. You are the one who inducted me into the Society of Mages. You impressed upon me the absolute need to adhere to the rules. How can you now ask me to break them?”

  “I have a need that is more important to Elvangar than the Society of Mages,” retorted the old man. “My entry into the royal vaults must not be stymied by some foolish rules.”

  “You would break the rules for selfish gains?” scowled Jandra. “That is not the Garl that I once knew.”

  Garl sighed with frustration. He knew Jandra as a fine man and an accomplished mage, but he realized that he was losing the battle to gain his help. He decided to try once more before bending Jandra to his will.

  “This is a matter of life and death for the elven people, Jandra,” Garl said. “You know that I left the Society of Mages without putting up a fight. I did so because it was in the best interests of Elvangar at the time. I act in the same vein today. You said that my life is forfeit if I am found in this city. That is true, yet I am willing to risk that for the elven people. Is that not enough to convince you of the importance of what I must do?”

  Jandra stared at his old tutor for several silent moments. Finally he nodded.

  “You must be disguised,” warned Jandra, “and not magically. The royal vaults will detect any magical disguises. Meet me outside in an hour. Do not be late, or I will be gone. I hope you realize the risk that I am taking for you, Garl?”

  “I do, Jandra,” nodded Garl, “but the risk that you are taking is for Elvangar, not me. I will be there in an hour.”

  Jandra turned and walked out of the illusion. Garl waited until his old pupil had entered the Hall of the Society of Mages before dropping the illusion and leaving the park. He quickly made his way to the School of Drama and slid in through a back door. He roamed the hallways quietly until he found an empty preparation room. He entered the room and silently closed the door. Less than an hour later, an old woman left the room and headed for the royal vaults.

  The old woman hobbled along the streets of Morada. She dallied in a small park near the royal vaults until she saw Jandra approaching. She timed her approach to coincide with Jandra’s arrival and looped her arm though his as he approached the guards. Jandra looked briefly at the old w
oman and shook his head. He did not say a word.

  As they stood in front of the guards, Jandra showed his credentials. The guards looked at them and then looked expectantly at the old woman.

  “She is to take notes,” explained Jandra. “My hands have been trembling of late, and I cannot read my own writing.”

  The guards nodded and Jandra led the old woman through the doors. They worked their way to the inner vaults where copies of the Prophecies of Kieran and other most important documents were kept. The old woman immediately scanned the shelves and pulled an old scroll down to read.

  “What exactly are you looking for?” asked Jandra as his head swiveled to see whom else was about.

  “It is better if you do not know at this point,” answered Garl. “I think this information could get people killed.”

  “Killed?” balked Jandra. “Do you mean someone would murder me for knowing what is in those scrolls?”

  “Murder, execution,” shrugged Garl. “There is little difference in the terms to the deceased. These are the original prophecies that Kieran made while in Angragar. I need the ones that Kieran made after he returned to Elvangar. See if you can find them.”

  Jandra opened a large book that rested on a small table. He flipped through the pages until he came to what he was looking for. He tapped the entry in the book and returned to the shelves. He found the numbered slot and stared puzzlingly at it.

  “The slot is empty,” Jandra said softly. “The scroll is not where it should be.”

  “Karaza has been expecting me then,” frowned Garl. “There is only one other choice. We must get in to see the originals.”

  “That is not possible,” Jandra shook his head vigorously. “It takes a royal decree to get into the innermost vaults. Even I do not have the power to let you in.”

  Garl put the scroll back on the shelf. He turned and stared at the bars blocking the entrance to the innermost vaults and pondered how he could get inside.

  “Leave the vaults, Jandra,” advised the old woman. “Pretend that you were never here today. Just go about your business as if it was a normal day.”