Chronicles of the Planeswalkers

by B. T. Robertson

  "Your brief delve into the deep lore of your history has served you well. That was the territory that Hydrais ruled with domination over all of the land of Vaalüna. It took a miracle, and one last battle at the city of Trünith, to push Hydrais from there to El-Caras, his last fortress. It is also the hiding place of the last piece of the great riddle that he formed to call his resurrection. It is only in this sense of irony that his last stand would be the first clue to unlocking his secret. He knew that his soul would not die while his power was woven into the magical scroll hidden deep within the vastness of Trünith. He created the Mirror at El-Caras as a guide, to point his chosen one in its direction, so that one day he could be awoken again. This is our peril, and our resolve must be to follow Haarath into the pits of the earth and beyond if we are to stop this cataclysm from happening."

  Aerinas nodded in understanding. The reality of the duty he was being called to do now was very imminent. He answered in the most unexpected way.

  "Then I must do what I feared most in the past. I will do what you wish of me and go where you bid me to go,” he said.

  "Son, it is not I who bid you to do this thing,” said Tristandor. “You have chosen to do this even before we came to you tonight. You have known it in your heart, even if it has come to you suddenly or in a dream. What you may not know is that we are sending a party. You will not be alone."

  "Will I choose, or has the Council already chosen this party?” asked Aerinas.

  "The Council has decided only two, and the rest will be decided with your aid. I am with you,” said Tristandor.

  "Father, you are coming with me?” Aerinas asked in surprise. “But why? Who will lead our people if you fall?"

  "Our people are strong, and have endured long and harsh times. The House of Lythardia has many elders capable of leadership. I will appoint a member of the Council to undertake my duties until I return. My own fate has led me to this decision, and its presence cannot be avoided, I'm afraid,” Tristandor said.

  Aeligon interjected, “And I go at the behest of Tristandor. It seems that my usefulness from the past has given me another chance at fate. I hope my role will prove its value in days to come.” He smiled and winked at the father and son.

  They all chuckled together. The tension between Tristandor and Aerinas seemed to have receded somewhat given the common goal of the quest at hand.

  Aerinas asked, “So whom will we choose to go with us?"

  "You may choose whomever you deem worthy,” answered Tristandor. “You will be a leader someday, and with that comes the responsibility of choosing your allies carefully and wisely. Do not make great haste in doing so, for this party will only consist of seven members. I will expect you to convene at the Grand Terrace as soon as possible, so that plans may be made for the road before us."

  "Very well then,” said Aerinas, “I will choose the other four members and meet you here tonight when the moon is at its highest.” He bade Aeligon and his father good night before he dashed up the nearest set of stairs leading to the causeways. His father gazed after him for a short while.

  "He will make a great leader someday, Aeligon,” he said solemnly, “if the blood running through his veins does not lead him astray."

  "I doubt that it will, my friend,” offered Aeligon calmly. “His blood is of the noblest of all elves, hence all beings on this Earth. Fate has yet to tell his story, but I assure you that it will go down as one of the greatest tales to grace our chronicles. Legends, whether fallen or prolonged, are legends forever, Tristandor. Trust me on that one. I have seen many great legends already in my lifetime, and there are songs sung and tales told each day about them. No, they are never forgotten."

  Tristandor nodded, but said nothing in response to Aeligon's optimistic outlook. They walked along the path slower than they had before, since Aerinas had gone to claim his companions.

  * * * *

  Not far above them, hidden carefully amongst the branches, a small form waited until they were out of sight, then slipped away quietly in the direction that Aerinas went.

  * * * *

  Aerinas walked hurriedly along the platforms and bridges of the city that bound the trees into an intricate web of life. Along the way he passed Durythrain, who was patching a few boards of a broken dais.

  "Be careful of your footing, young Aerinas,” warned the peaceful voice. “You do not want to step near here."

  Aerinas stepped around the open spaces cautiously, giving a chuckle as his feet danced away from the holes. The hammering resumed once he passed.

  Foran's house was situated near the outskirts of the city on the north side. Aerinas hoped he was there so the search would not have to be delayed. Luck was with him. He broke the threshold of the larger room that was very similar to his own in many ways. Foran was standing near the far wall, looking down through the spindles at something that Aerinas could not have guessed.

  "There you are, Foran. I am in luck that I found you here and not wandering about the city,” said Aerinas without a pant or quiver in his voice.

  "Yes, I am here,” said Foran, who turned around to face his friend. “I was watching you ascend from below, and was certain you were coming to fetch me. I saw you talking with your father and some other. Who was that?"

  "That Foran, was Aeligon the Healer,” Aerinas answered.

  "What is he doing here, and what would he want with you and your father?"

  "That is why I have come, to ask something of you that you have secretly wished to hear for a long time, my friend."

  "And what is that?” asked Foran.

  "I have been chosen to embark on a journey with Aeligon, my father, and four others of my choosing. The attack on the city was a mere signal that evil has returned to our lands, one that now begs our swift resolve. I came to offer you this task first, being foremost of my greatest allies and closest of friends. Will you not come with us?"

  Foran's eyes widened, full of delight and wonder. He answered quickly. “Yes, I will go with you, Aerinas. I am certain that you already knew the answer to the question before you asked."

  Aerinas smiled, “I suspected as much, Foran. I knew that you would not let me down. Let us make haste, for there are three others that we must choose to go with us. There will be seven in total, no more, no less. Aeligon is one, my father is two."

  At that, Foran stopped and grabbed Aerinas’ wrist tightly. “Your father is going too?” he asked with astonishment in his voice.

  Aerinas lowered his head and nodded. “He is, Foran, and I have already questioned why. Perhaps he feels that it is his destiny. He believes so highly in such things that he is blinded by it. I go to satisfy my own curiosity, just as I did when I journeyed to Merchindale. I have longed for adventure, and now it has come to me. Whether I go to great peril or glory, I care not."

  "Surely you must have some concern? If Hydrais is plotting to rise again, have you not the wits to see that you are being chosen to lead?"

  "I do not ask for this calling, Foran, and I despise anyone who would tell me that is anything more than coincidence. I am the heir to the House of Lythardia by my bloodline, nothing more. Fate has not put me here; my father has, and he has bound me to it mercilessly. My heart longs to be free from this place, to roam about and journey to far away lands, to discover hidden places and folk long forgotten. If evil I meet along my road, meet it I shall and defeat it I must. That is a natural part of being a wanderer."

  "Aerinas,” said Foran, “I have never heard you talk like this. Do you not see that it is your bloodline that makes you strong, that makes you who you are? It is a gift, not a burden to bear."

  "This discussion is over, Foran, and never again will it emerge between us. I did not ask for this gift, which has been chained to me without remorse. Never will I rid myself of it unless I spill my blood upon the earth. I will never choose death over life; therefore, I will go on this quest and defeat the evil if I must. It is, however, the means to the end. This chance I will take if it g
rants me the ability to flee this city and my father's grip. Mortal are the elves, but long will he sit on the throne. Only until the moment he falls will I then claim my spoils, and what will that accomplish? Must I sit here enslaved, awaiting that moment, only to then be enslaved again by political ruin? No, I have not the patience nor the desire to rule a people. My father is ashamed of me, Foran. Make no blunder in that assessment."

  Aerinas was calm in appearance, yet raged in spirit. Foran came nearer to him and placed his hand on his right arm.

  "My friend,” said Foran serenely, “I have been by your side through all of your trials thus far. I would hope that you would not abandon our friendship as hurriedly as you would your own destiny?"

  "Of course not. I would not become blind to our bond. I would find it selfish to ask more of it, however, in asking you to come with me after this task is complete."

  "Do not presume to know all of my own inner thoughts. I too have had similar desires. If you asked it of me, I would follow you wherever you would go, for you would not make it alone. Your skills are great and your bloodline strong, but foolish is it for any creature to think that this realm is forgiving to a solitary traveler. I will come with you when this is done, if fate is favorable to us both."

  "We will surely see this in time. Let us go then, and seek out the remaining lot for this quest,” said Aerinas with renewed confidence.

  The two grasped each other's forearm, symbolizing a bond of unbending fortitude.

  Foran quickly asked, “By the way, who was that smaller creature I saw following you down below? I could not make out the face."

  "I had no knowledge of a tracker, Foran,” Aerinas said, looking over the surroundings, piercing the barrage of twisted limbs with his vision. “I see no one now, though my sight may be tricking me if this creature is using strange magic. Are you sure of what you saw?"

  "Yes, but it disappeared before it got too close, almost as if it knew I was watching from above,” said Foran.

  "Well, it is of little consequence. With the strange happenings abroad, it is to be expected that some of the younger elves are snooping to get any news they can. I am not concerned unless this one decides to give us trouble."

  Foran donned his cloak, slid his sword into the scabbard; then the two elves headed out. As they left, a shadow ducked behind a large tree close by and melted into the backdrop, remaining unseen to the ever watchful eyes of the two elves.

  After a short time, Aerinas and Foran wisely gathered two of the three remaining members of the party; Lynais Ganadain and Arn Hrynethis were both highly skilled archers who had exacted swift death upon many goblins at the Battle of the Gate.

  "Come,” said Aerinas. “Let us go find my father to seek his wisdom in choosing the final member, for the moon is now in the highest phase of its journey across the sky, a warning that time is out."

  Together, the four made light steps across the wooden crossings toward the meeting place, which was the Grand Terrace high up in the trees and away from all other dwellings and structures. It was where battle preparations were made when time allowed. The day had aged and passed far more quickly than Aerinas imagined. It had taken him only hours to find three companions, yet the fourth eluded him like the dark as it retreated from the rising sun. He would have to face his father with three upon the Grand Terrace.

  The Grand Terrace was named simply after the structure that was built in the center of four large trees, nearest to the center of the city, and highest at that. It was there that the secrets of war were sought, and the fire in the hearts of young Krayn Elves harvested. The terrace was little more than a wide, circular platform built of wood and accessed by only one set of stairs at its northern most point. The staircase wound all the way down, uninterrupted by any other causeway. It was a long trek to the top, but the concerns contained in the air at the pinnacle were preciously valued, and hence not easily accessed.

  Aerinas and the others reached the top, and were welcomed by Aeligon and Tristandor. They rested casually in wooden chairs at the center of the terrace. The four stood before them proudly, with the wizard and the Elf-Lord looking upon them with admiration. Tristandor rose from his seat.

  "Well done, my son,” he said to Aerinas. “You have chosen wisely, if only one too few."

  "It could not be helped, Father. I could not find another in time, for I feared I would be tardy if I attempted any further searching."

  "Fear not, Aerinas, you chose carefully. Rather that than ten chosen in great haste. We will find another elf worthy in due time."

  Suddenly, a cracking of branches came from above them. They all looked quickly and, in reaction to the clamor, drew their swords, some their bows. A figure emerged from the barrage of branches and falling twigs. Landing on its feet, it found itself in the most precarious of dilemmas; two glimmering blades, two silver arrowheads, and one staff were pointed directly at it, begging to be unleashed. However, before this unleashing, a voice penetrated the stiff air.

  "Wait, do not strike me down; you know who I am."

  "Ithyllna?” shouted Foran. “What in Ashinon's name are you trying to do? You are going to get yourself killed one of these days doing that.” Bowstrings relaxed, swords retracted, and Pux mumbled something about the sneakiness of elves.

  The elf maiden revealed herself by removing her cloak. She was shorter than the rest, but very cunning and agile. Her abilities were well known, albeit overshadowed by her mischievous reputation that preceded her most often.

  "I would like to be the seventh member of this party,” she brashly claimed as she stepped forward among them.

  "Ithyllna, this is no place for you to be sneaking around, and equally foolish of you to descend upon a party of well-armed and well-skilled elves in the dark,” scolded Tristandor. “You are fortunate to be alive to be able to make such a bold statement. Tell me how you came to know of this in the first place."

  Ithyllna said, “I overheard..."

  "I told her,” thundered a female voice from behind the group. They all turned suddenly and fell silent when they saw who it was that stepped out of the shadows.

  Nimoni stood before them, sparkling hair and flowing garbs thrown about her. Her eyes were full of heated flame; she stared at the six lords who stood in shock at her sudden appearance. She approached, and stood before Tristandor in the midst of the others.

  "I overhead all of this plotting, and it was I who chose Ithyllna to accompany the party,” Nimoni said with authority. “Is there a problem, Tristandor?"

  Tristandor bowed low, a symbol of respect and affection for his wife. “No, there is no problem. However, I must warn you that our quest will not be easy or safe, and Ithyllna is young..."

  She interrupted him abruptly, “She is older than my son and equally, if not more, skilled in the arts of war. You expected me to sit idly by while you took my son, let alone yourself, away from here? When were you planning on allowing me to know of this quest, this trap?"

  "Nimoni,” Tristandor said calmly, “Our way of life has been threatened, and evil continues to grow in the east. If it is not faced, we will surely meet our death. I can feel it in my bones, and can smell it in the air. The trees whisper of it with their shaking limbs and the creatures scurry about with anxiety, a sign that evil is coming. You knew of Hydrais and have read the chronicles faithfully; why now do you question my ability to lead our people?"

  "It is not your ability to lead that has me worried, but your inability to see that your son has the ability to lead if you would just let him follow his own path. Whether he believes it or not, fate will decide where to have him go.” Her eyes turned from Tristandor to Aerinas, who stared at her poignantly.

  Tristandor became cross, “Fate has chosen him to follow in my stead, and follow me he will. Do not challenge my authority in this matter, Nimoni. We go to seek out the menace that plots to destroy us, and it would be folly to let him go off on his own accord."

  Aerinas turned and walked to the edge of the ter
race, looking down into the city with rage filling his heart. Nimoni and Tristandor were surprised by this and, with a glance to each other, knew it was time to stop the fruitless argument. Nimoni went to her son and, with a soft kiss, bade him farewell.

  "Farewell, my son,” she said delicately. “Do not let your heart be troubled, for you are destined for things that you cannot yet see. I am sorry to bring you despair."

  Aerinas took the kiss, yet held steadfast. A mother was cherished among the elves as the wisest and fairest of all. The female Krayn represented all that was gentle and fair in their society. Aerinas knew this, yet had grown up enough to respect her without showing weakness. Nimoni knew this as well, and did her best to shirk her desire to treat him like the child she wished he still was. She turned away from him, softly kissed Tristandor, and bade them all farewell except for Ithyllna, whom she pulled aside.

  "Ithyllna,” Nimoni said, with concern in her voice, “do take care of yourself. Your skills are vast, yet far will you travel from home with a party of Elf-Lords. Alone you will feel, but alone you are not. Please send word of the happenings on your travels."

  After glancing around quickly to ensure no one was watching, Nimoni pulled a small whistle from inside her white garment, holding it in her silky hand. The whistle was made of ivory with silver castings carved into it, a beautiful craft.

  "Give breath to this whistle in your hopelessness, and help will come,” said Nimoni as she handed it over to her.

  "I understand,” Ithyllna answered. She took the whistle gratefully and put it into a small, leather pouch on her waist belt. Her hair was short and white, like strands of grass blessed by a light snow. In body, her stature was even more impressive. Still, being a female, many of her foes foolishly mistook her for a weakling. Only in their dying breaths did admission of her power come forth, while she stood over them smiling. Her fire-wrought Elvish blood made her one of the deadliest members of the Vrünyn Guard. She had a keen interest in the rules of war and the like. Ithyllna also rode with the sons and daughters of ages past during the Great War, carrying many tales of strife and pleasure with her. Still, she never allowed them to be chronicled, keeping the stories for special occasions when too many draughts of wine were consumed (as she was known to do from time to time).