The Awakening

by Joe Jackson

  The elves didn’t have a xenophobic reputation for no reason, after all

  “Behold, the lands of Laeranore,” Yiilu said with a gesture. “From here, it should take only another day’s walk to reach the tower of the Archmagus. Normally, you would be driven out of our lands, but my people will not trouble us so long as I walk among you. If we find ourselves surrounded at some point, however, do not be concerned; all will be well. It may come to pass that my people decide to make certain I am not with you under duress.”

  Delkantar was practically bouncing at the knees. “Thank you again for this. I’ve long wanted to walk the forests of your people, but I’ve never had a valid reason to do so.”

  “Do you really have walking trees, or is that just a tale you tell to keep outsiders away?” Starlenia asked, eyeing many of the nearby boles and then glancing up to their crowns.

  The druidess smiled and continued onward. She let out a shrill whistle, one that made both Max and Vo’rii’s ears stand up straighter. Whatever its purpose, she strode confidently into the deeper forest of Laeranore without looking back, and the rest of the companions fell into step behind her. Leighandra took up the rear, allowing the others to get better first glimpses of the forest, and for Yiilu to act as their guide. She was interested to hear whether the stories of the Arborean Guardians were true, too.

  “Oh, it is no tale, my friend,” the druidess answered at length. “The trees here are ancient even by the standards of my people, and there is a sentience among them that defies explanation. Even those ancient stands that do not walk yet speak – to each other, mostly, though occasionally to those of my attunement as well. That is the First Truth as we call it, something outsiders have never understood: Laeranore is not the land of the elves, but the land of the tree-folk. We are but long-term visitors here.”

  “So, the trees were alive before your people arrived here, according to Max’s story?” Galadon asked, still looking to and fro in wonder.

  “Indeed. It is part of what drew us to this place, what set this forest apart from the rest of these lands and made us feel welcome and at home. The forest welcomed nature’s children into its bosom, and here we have resided for nearly the turning of two eras. You will find most of our cities are built into this forest, at one with it despite the fact that our domiciles are not all that far off from what is familiar to you. Then there are the cities, though they are few and typically near the coastline, where the trees left room for those of the flesh to build their dwellings.”

  “We are far from the only inhabitants here,” she continued. “There was once a mighty black dragon that called this forest home, and at times we see migrations of czarikk pass through our lands. So again, I stress that Laeranore is not the land of my people, though it is where we make our home, and what we deem our nation. We defend her as she defends us.”

  “How did a rir archmage come to live among you?” Delkantar asked.

  “Her mother was called elf-friend,” Yiilu said, but the gesture she made said she wasn’t all that familiar with the details. “Lady Karinda grew up among these lands and has remained here as a defender of Laeranore. She is exceptionally long-lived as a rir, something we suspect may be a combination of her arcane power and the effect of living in this forest her entire life. But there is much to her story that I do not know, and so cannot tell you.”

  Leighandra felt eyes upon her, and judging by the way Starlenia swiveled her head back and forth, she guessed she wasn’t the only one. There was a feeling of foreboding here, strong enough that the chronicler still felt it despite having lived here for a time and, technically, still belonging here in part. Was it the sentries watching them, or the trees themselves? Leighandra thought of the druidess’ words regarding the sentience of the trees, and suddenly felt quite small and out of place in these woods.

  The forest became so thick that the light started getting choked out. Yiilu looked to the group and smiled at the wary expressions of the humans. Then, without a word, she turned back ahead and let out a trilling sound that was somewhere between whistle, ululation, and song. All around the companions rose a sound like cicadas, the cacophony just shy of causing discomfort, but then it faded. There was the sense of movement all around, and then a soft glow began to emanate from the trees all about them.

  Leighandra smiled. Not the trees, but the insects upon them, as the creatures emitted a glow from their backs to light the way for the travelers. The chronicler had lived among the elves for many years, but still found the nature-beseeching power of the druids fascinating. They disliked being called nature tappers, though that was how many regarded them. Instead, they spoke of their craft as a symbiosis of creator and created, much like a priest, only directly attuned to nature herself. Leighandra had never found an attunement with nature, instead finding her inner song aligned with the arcane, and so the magic of the elven people was amazing to her despite being a half-elf.

  Likewise, it was even more astounding to the outsiders who had likely never witnessed anything like it before.

  “This is amazing,” Max whispered, despite having traveled into Laeranore before.

  Delkantar chuckled as he strode up beside Yiilu, and he absently stroked Vorii’s head. “I’ve heard of the wonders of your people for years, but just what you’ve shown us in the last few days has been… wondrous.”

  “You should see the works of my mentor, Peri,” Yiilu returned. “Come! We have a few hours of travel left and then I will beseech the forest to give us ample shelter for the night.”

  “Can’t wait to see that,” Starlenia muttered.

  They traveled a while longer before stopping for a meal and some much-needed rest. The companions had stuck to an easy schedule despite the urgency of their current trek, still trying to recover from their arduous first night together. A deep clearing at ground level provided a perfect campsite, though there was still a thick canopy overhead, and Yiilu sang a prayer to the forest around them as her companions began to put down their packs. Leighandra understood the words but wasn’t sure what to expect when the druidess spoke to the forest itself.

  The trees responded in moments, reshaping their limbs and thick, gnarly roots to provide nooks, crannies, and shelves for the companions to stow their things. It took everyone a few minutes to get their wits about them after the amazing display and put the trees’ accommodations to use. The air here was warm and humid, so Delkantar fashioned a rocky pit and started a small fire, just enough to let the humans see their companions and the trees around them without calling on the insects to sit in vigil all night. Soon, the six new friends and Vo’rii sat around the campfire enjoying a meal and a cool drink as the day wound down.

  “How dangerous is the forest itself?” Delkantar asked as the meal got underway. “You said you’re not the only inhabitants here, but do we need to worry about animals or other people during the night?”

  “It will not be imprudent to keep watch over our camp, though I do not expect anything will disturb us,” Yiilu answered.

  Max turned to Galadon over dinner. “I have been meaning to ask… I know you said your memories have been muddled, but what do you remember of the War, specifically about my father and the fight with Arku? I am certain my people are not the only ones who believed you had been slain alongside my father.”

  Starlenia, Delkantar, and Yiilu all bobbed their heads in agreement, and Leighandra did so as well when the paladin’s gaze swept over her. The legends of that great battle were well-known to the chronicler, and she had sung many a song in remembrance of Kalamaris’ and Galadon’s heroics. It wasn’t all that unusual for someone to survive a war when they were believed to be dead, but when it was a king and they disappeared from history for several years, it was something that begged for an explanation.

  “I don’t remember much about the War at all,” Galadon answered after a minute. “The last few years have been difficult, recovering from lingering injuries I received, presumably in the battle with Arku. But I remem
ber little of the fight itself, or even the events leading up to it. The last truly reliable memory I have from before then was meeting your father, when he came and told me that something truly wicked was coming to our lands. I’ve heard plenty of the stories, but they’ve done little to help my memories return.”

  “Where have you been all this time, though?” Delkantar prompted. “You haven’t been home in Dira Ch’Tori, have you?”

  The paladin sighed. “It’s difficult to explain. I woke up six months ago in Norfolk, to find that the War I’d been injured in ended some four years and more ago. I have no idea how I got there, who was caring for me, or how I survived for so long without waking up. None of it has really made sense. And then the people there… a few knew me by reputation, but it was as though I had woken up in another time altogether. I don’t understand it; by my reckoning, I should be dead.”

  He dismissed his own thoughts with an impatient gesture. “Anyway, when the call from Solaris came, I accompanied the town emissary from Norfolk to see what this was all about. I suspect now that maybe I was dead, but I’ve been brought back for some reason to get to the root of this problem.”

  “Like Karian Vanador…,” Delkantar mused. “One can’t help but think there must be some major storm coming if the gods are resurrecting champions to lead us.”

  “You were resurrected?” Max blurted, nearly dropping his dinner.

  Galadon shrugged. “I’m honestly not certain. Perhaps it’s a question we can put to the archmage when we meet her.”

  Starlenia smirked. “Anyone else hiding any secrets? Secret lover? Royal blood? Shapeshifter in disguise?” She looked at the wolf as she said the last, but Vo’rii didn’t do more than flick her eyes in the woman’s direction.

  Leighandra had to bite down a laugh, and again when everyone started looking back and forth between them. “Auremax, it would seem, is married. Is anyone else?” she prodded. Nobody answered; instead they looked to the luranar paladin as he absently spun the gold band about his finger.

  “Married, eh? Got any kids yet?” Starlenia questioned him.

  Max stared into the fire for a few moments before he answered. “Yes, I have a wife back home in my village, and two daughters.”

  “Not bad for only being nineteen!”

  “Starlenia!” Leighandra blurted.

  “What?”

  “Don’t heckle the prince!”

  The luranar waved off Leighandra’s defensive outburst. “It is all right. I was married young on account of being the crown prince. The crown does not typically go from the younger to the older; when I was named prince, then, I was married and expected to sire a son. If we ever have occasion to travel to the land of my people, you will meet a great deal of my family, most notably my eldest brother, King Terist.”

  The chronicler regarded Max curiously but didn’t press further. There was something to his final statement that didn’t seem to fit. She got the impression he was hiding something. She marked it down in her thoughts as something to ask about slowly, over time, being careful not to overstep her bounds as a new friend. There was so much to each of her companions, and she wanted to find out everything she could about them. It was in her nature to learn all she could and preserve it as historical record. But asking all about one’s background and family could be a delicate matter, and she had to be mindful of that.

  “Shouldn’t you be king now that you’re nineteen, though?” Starlenia pressed.

  “My brother took up the crown when our father was killed. It should rightfully pass to me now, but Terist is a good king, and I am in no hurry to assume the weight of a crown.”

  “What about you?” Leighandra asked, turning the tables on the outgoing rogue, for lack of a better term to describe Starlenia.

  “What about me?” she returned predictably.

  “There must be something interesting about you.”

  Starlenia shrugged off the suggestion. “I’m just a vintner from the Okonashai north of the Khalarin Empire.”

  “A vintner with a particular affinity for short blades,” Delkantar chuckled.

  The woman straightened out, which only accentuated her shorter stature. “My people don’t build big cities like yours. We live off the land, and everyone’s got to have the skills and talents to keep the entire clan alive and prosperous. Yes, I know how to use blades, whether to hunt, to defend our people, butcher an animal, skin the harvest, or whatever needs doing. I know how to tend the vineyards, watch over the children, read the weather patterns, patrol the border, and lead the clan in prayer to the Great Spirit.”

  She tossed a stick casually into the fire. “If there’s one thing I don’t know how to do well, it’s sit still. Which is the main reason I was sent to meet with the rest of you in Solaris. My people could’ve sent a number of better-humored diplomats, but it was agreed this wouldn’t be a situation that we, as a host of nations, could talk our way out of.” Leighandra leaned back defensively as those green eyes fell over her. “I see the way you look at me. I’m not what you think I am, but I do have skills that will be of great use to the lot of you going forward. And if not, well, I’ll be off to my vineyards again without protest.”

  “You have already been of tremendous help,” Max assured her. “I hope you will not take offense to this, but you remind me of a proverb about great things coming in small packages.”

  Starlenia cracked a half-smile. “Short statures run deep in our clan’s bloodlines, but in the end, we’re still human. We just chose to go our own way long ago.”

  “Thank you for coming, Starlenia,” Yiilu offered. “We owe your people our thanks for sending such a capable soul.”

  “I hope you took no offense to my curiosity,” Leighandra added. “I’m a chronicler by trade, and I’ve been trying to get a feel for each of you. Though I hold our knights in high regard and have a deep respect for Delkantar and Yiilu, I hope you don’t think I look down upon you. That couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

  Starlenia shrugged. “Good to know. I’ve just seen you look at me sometimes like you might be afraid of me. The only people that should be afraid of me are the idiots behind this mess. Them, I plan to stick a few knives in. But sticking knives in people isn’t what I like to do; it’s just something I’m willing to do if it comes to that.”

  “Agreed,” Galadon said. “We are all here for a similar purpose, no matter what methods we may ultimately use to see to that purpose. And doubtless there will come times when each of our various skills and preferences will come in handy. We may need to add more to our party if our enemies prove as numerous as we fear, but I’m quite satisfied with who we have, and our collective capabilities.”

  Vo’rii’s head went up, and nobody missed it. The wolf’s ears stood straight at first, but then they angled back sharply and she uttered an uncharacteristic growl.

  Starlenia leapt across the fire to be near the others, and Leighandra backed closer to Yiilu and Vo’rii. The three men put their hands to the hilts of their weapons, but kept them sheathed for the moment. It did seem odd to Leighandra that there might be a threat here, in the deep woods of Laeranore. That the trees and even animals hadn’t warned Yiilu ahead of time was surprising, but the chronicler assumed maybe the forest didn’t quite work that way.

  Glowing green eyes appeared in the depths of the shadows ahead, slit-pupiled and clearly belonging to neither elf nor man. Vo’rii rose to her feet, her hackles raised, and bared her teeth in a snarl. There came a clacking sound, as though teeth were coming together with force, and a slight scent of cinnamon wafted through the still air of the forest. Whatever stood out there in the dark made no move to enter the circle of firelight. Leighandra had only so much patience for that before she took hold of the song in her soul and strung lights out there, just as she’d done in the cemetery.

  The creature didn’t even flinch as its form was revealed. It was wrapped in a stately black robe trimmed in gold, but the chronicler took in the brown skin, the row of iv
ory horns that ran over its head in a row, the eyes that could apparently go in opposite directions, and the long, hooked claws upon its fingers. It was picking at its teeth in between clacking them, its eyes going in different directions to study each of the companions in turn.

  “What the hell is that?” Delkantar muttered.

  The demon – for what else could it be? – turned its head fully in the human’s direction and finally gave voice to its thoughts. “Not what, human; who. I… am called Tilcimer. How very interesting to find humans traversing the land of the elves.”

  “One could say the same of you,” Yiilu answered stiffly. “What business have you in these lands?”

  “Business…,” the demon echoed, glancing off into the depths of the forest for a stretch before it returned both eyes to the group. “How appropriate a choice of words. I have a business proposition for you.”

  “We will have no dealings with a demon. Begone,” Max said, taking a step forward.

  The creature narrowed its eyes. “Think carefully upon this, mortal. I have chosen to come and make this proposal to you, rather than your enemies. You have very little idea of what you face, and if I know the Archmage, she will tell you only so much, content to leave you blind and wandering along some… preordained path to doom. I, by contrast, may be able to aid you to some degree, in exchange for certain considerations if my suspicions turn out to be true.”

  Galadon pulled Max back lightly by the shoulder. “What suspicions? What do you know of all this?”

  The creature disappeared in a blur, and every one of the companions was clearly shaken when they turned to find Tilcimer pacing back and forth behind them. “As it stands, your suspicions are correct: I was created by Seril some time ago. As such, I know much of what my creator imparted to me, and I have some inkling of what may be behind these recent disturbances here, if not who the true culprit is – yet.”