Alliances
Page 22
"You leave that to me,” Haarath replied. “You make war on Vaaluna, and I will worry about retrieving the spoils, as we agreed."
Turza nodded and said nothing more.
Haarath mounted Drez. Turza shouted to his army, “We go north. We seek the creatures who battle the giants near the stronghold of Gudred castle. Burn everything and kill everyone barring our progress!"
The army of Drothghights, wrapped in the darkness before the dawn, broke camp and moved north. They covered ground speedily, even though Haarath was the only one on horseback.
Vaaluna's siege had begun.
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Chapter 12—One
Aeligon considered it a miracle that the book was in Drameda and finally in their possession. Fate, it seemed, had mixed a bit of luck into her grand design. A crossroads was set before the Healer, much like it was back in the days of Ashinon, when Hydrais rose to power. He dreaded the thought of Aerinas reading the pages of the book, but there was no time to worry about the elf ‘s comforts.
Aeligon realized how much Aerinas had grown, both mentally and physically, over the past few weeks. Seeing the world anew, experiencing life outside of Mynandrias, and tasting freedom meant actually living all of these vital pieces of what men called humanity. Ironically, Aeligon mused, the elves had no word to define such an abstract concept. Their world was contained, self-sustaining, without a care or need for anything beyond their heritage. The elves claimed to be open-minded, yet, sadly, could barely manage to open their eyes to what was around them.
Aeligon believed he was going to deal with this same narrow-mindedness soon.
The wizard, after discussing the events with Tristandor and leaving Menishka'dun in the care of Farrin, found Aerinas back in the room at the inn. He tapped lightly with his knuckle on the door.
"Come in, Aeligon,” Aerinas said, much to the wizard's surprise. The door opened, and the Healer came in wearing a smile on his face and carrying the book under his arm.
"Good evening, Aerinas,” Aeligon offered, bowing slightly to the elf.
Aerinas nodded in return, and gestured toward the only chair in the room. Aeligon took his seat and set the book on the desk.
"You knew it was me,” Aeligon stated matter-of-factly.
"I knew this would eventually involve me,” Aerinas blurted out. “Doesn't it always?” The elf's speech reverted back to the casual slang he had picked up during his repeated visits to the outsiders back home: gnomes and other creatures of the sort.
Aeligon raised his eyebrows and stared at Aerinas for a moment. “Don't presume to know everything. This does not merely involve you, Aerinas, it centers on you."
Aerinas’ eyes widened and he cocked his head slightly to one side, a questioning gaze in his eyes. He hadn't anticipated his mentor's response, so he tried to change the subject. “Where's the small creature? Summoning stone golems elsewhere?"
"Don't worry, he's safe,” Aeligon answered. “I've got Farrin watching him. It seems our little conjurer is afraid of giants.
"Aerinas,” the wizard continued, never pausing to let Aerinas stall further, “this book was written by the hand of Ashinon, back in the times when the Order of Light was thriving, when evil worked in more telling manners than today."
Seeing Aerinas’ puzzled look, he added, “Ashinon was writing about the evil he could see, as opposed to the evil of today that chooses to remain hidden."
Aerinas nodded, and Aeligon continued. “This book not only recounts his experiences, but also his theories, his research into unfathomable worlds—the Planes, Aerinas."
Aerinas shook his head. “If this book was such a secret, then how do you know so much?"
Aeligon smiled and tapped his finger on the book's cover. “Because I was his closest pupil, and in our frequent conversations, he dropped hints. I have recently, with Pux's help, found confirmation back in Lunathar in my old master's study, which is how we came to know of this book's secret method of disguising itself. Ashinon was a brilliant wizard, Aerinas, the most brilliant wizard of our time. He could have made this book disappear with a nod of his head. He wanted this book to be found."
"But why us? Why you?” Aerinas paused, then added, “Why me?"
Aeligon turned around, took up the book from the desk, and handed it to Aerinas. Aerinas took it in both hands, finding it to be surprisingly light. Before Aeligon handed it over to the elf, he grasped it tightly with his two hands, a simulated tug-of-war. His striking blue eyes met Aerinas’ green pools. “There is magic in this book, Aerinas, magic meant only for the eyes of..."
He stopped short, and Aerinas was relieved Aeligon didn't finish the sentence. The elf had heard enough about “The Chosen One” and the “Heir” and whatever other title he was supposed to have someday. He was merely playing along with this game because he cared for and respected Aeligon, and instinctively relied on the wizard's mutual concern and respect for him.
"Just read it,” Aeligon sighed. He released his grip on the book and let Aerinas have it. “We will stay no matter how long it takes you.” Secretly, the wizard knew it wouldn't take long; the sun would rise to find Aerinas changed.
Aerinas looked up at him. “But this is a dangerous place. Is it safe for me to read it here? Now? We should be moving on, right?"
Aeligon nearly chuckled at how often Aerinas changed his mode of speech, like it was tied directly to his mood. “What you read therein may affect our progress from here on out.” He turned to leave, but cast a look over his shoulder. “Besides, I want to locate our pale friend from the library. His role in this far outweighs what is in Ashinon's book."
With Aeligon's quiet departure, Aerinas stood momentarily stunned at his revelations. Then Aerinas sat down on the bed, crossed his legs in front of him, and set the book between his knees. He pursed his lips when he silently read the cover: Book of Wizardry, Lunathar, and the Planes. “Interesting title,” he said, shaking his head when he opened to the first page. The book was thick, but, strangely enough, he was reading it at an enormously fast rate. It had taken him days to read through the thick volumes of the other Vaalunan history books in the Library of Songs! How was this happening?
"It is enchanted,” he said aloud when he turned another page.
What he was reading was fascinating. He couldn't understand why it was only for his eyes, or how Aeligon knew that, but the reading was, nonetheless, the best he had ever experienced. The supple leather exterior and exquisite engravings were overshadowed only by the crisp parchment within. Aerinas had never seen such impeccable script. Eloquent text was written on each page, schematics and diagrams were perfectly aligned, and the stories told were captivating. Ashinon's writing was detailed and discursive. He wrote about Lunathar and the city's unrelenting presence throughout the history of the world, about visits and visitors from both within and without Salanthanon's borders, about the evil of Hydrais and his continued fight against him, and about the phenomena he'd named, quite simply, “Planes".
Aerinas learned that Ashinon truly didn't know if the Planes existed, but had offered provocative evidence to support his theories. Ashinon was a theorist at heart, but his practical experimentation with the various Wild Magics of Vaaluna had taught him much about bending and breaking rules. There was one section of the book where Aerinas had to shake his head in confusion because Ashinon became very technical in explaining some of his experiments. Even though Ashinon hypothesized that any Wild Magic could open a door to another world, he didn't reveal how it could be done, or if he had, in fact, tried it himself.
Aerinas read on. When the subject jumped or when the time stamps became disjointed, Aerinas realized Ashinon had been journeying. Ashinon gave the fact away by his avid writing of long passages in one sitting. The layout of the book was the most surprising feature to Aerinas. Not only did Ashinon recount the specific year, month, day, and time, but also would document where he was sitting, what food he was eating, if any, and other minutiae.
He kept reading, and the more he read, the more he learned. Before he knew it, hours had passed, and he wasn't feeling fatigue or hunger pains at all. It was as if the book was satisfying his physical and emotional needs for its own purpose—to be read. Aerinas remembered Aeligon saying the book was not only authored by Ashinon, but also spell-warded by him. Thus, the wizard would ensure whomever was supposed to read this book would read it from front to back without being interrupted. The elf continued.
Aerinas came to the part in the reading where the strangest of events happened. When he turned the page, the exact middle page of the book, the page slapped down on each side, preventing him from turning anymore. This is what he wants me to see, Aerinas thought frantically, unsure of what to do next, but wise enough to see the intent.
Both of the pages comprising the middle were covered with an intricate design. In the center of the diagram was a sphere labeled: “Planar Center". Spreading out like fingers from it were long lines, each labeled: “Planar Pathways". Then, at the other end of each of the pathways were more spheres. One of the spheres was labeled: “Vaaluna". None of the others had names, but were simply labeled: “Planes".
"This is how Ashinon conceptualized his theory of the Planes,” Aerinas mused, rubbing his chin with his index finger. “He believed there was one governing body controlling all the others, each joined by its own pathway leading back to the Central Plane.” Aerinas pondered and tried to look at it another way. “Or maybe he assumed there had to be a central plane to control the others because that's how most societies in this world are."
That idea left a profound impression in the young elf's mind, which tugged and wouldn't go away, reassuring him of a correct interpretation. If only he had proof for his theories! He had none.
Not unless Ashinon were in the room with him!
Aerinas’ eyes hadn't adjusted fully to the dim light in the room, but once they did, they made out the distinct outline of a figure. He threw the book off of his lap, whirled to his right, vaulted off the bed, and had his sword unsheathed. But when he blinked again, the blade was gone! Right out of his hands! He looked down at his scabbard and saw the blade there. The elf grabbed the hilt and unsheathed it again, but when he blinked, it was back in the scabbard again.
Bewildered, Aerinas left the sword and scabbard alone, and grabbed for his bow. He screamed when he realized he hadn't pulled an arrow out of his quiver, but a large snake! The figure began to approach him, but Aerinas couldn't do anything save back away defensively into the corner between the wall and the bed's headboard. What else was there? Someone was using wicked magic, and wasn't very friendly.
Sitting at the corner of the bar, Lynais sipped the amber ale. The bartender had bragged so much about its quality that the elf had thrown down some coins to shut the man up. But, after tasting Drameda's Drink of Choice, Lynais had to admit it was smooth and tasty. The subtle way it muffled his senses and thoughts was a warm welcome to him, too. Lynais had never drunk from a man's cup before, let alone in one of their dilapidated taverns. He was watching the frothy head of his beer dissipate slowly when Aeligon sat next to him at the bar, grunting when he eased onto the stool.
Thumping sounds coming from the floor above them startled Lynais, who, when he pulled away from his mug, wore a frothy white mustache.
"What was that?” asked the alarmed elf as he awkwardly slid his hand down to his sword's hilt.
"Aerinas is visiting with some old friends...not to worry,” answered Aeligon without even turning his attention away from the bartender, whom he was attempting to flag down so he could get a drink.
"Nothing surprises me in this town,” Lynais grumbled. “How did this place get so cursed?"
"This town is the perfect example of what happens when the power of their church is overthrown by evil men,” Aeligon replied.
Lynais shrugged. “I never understood men's blind faith in hokey religions."
Aeligon turned, shocked at the elf ‘s observation. “Don't the elves believe in Sheevos?"
"Well, yes, but we're different,” Lynais retorted. “There is proof of Sheevos’ existence. One can touch the Elfstone containing her spirit."
"But have you ever experienced divine intervention from Her?” Aeligon questioned. “Ever see Her in person?"
Lynais waved off the wizard's quizzing, frustrated and too irritated to pursue his game further.
Aeligon had made his point.
Pux was laughing at the mustache on the elf ‘s upper lip. “Might want to get that,” he called to Lynais, who quickly wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his tunic, embarrassed, and sat back down on his stool.
"I'll have the same,” Aeligon nodded to the bartender, gesturing to Lynais’ mug.
Lynais smiled, his eyes half-closed, and bobbed his head up and down a bit.
Aeligon didn't quite know what to make of the elf's silly head-bobbing, but cleared his throat anyway. “Yes, wizards are allowed to drink the sweet liquids of men.” He winked to Lynais, who kept on smiling. Aeligon added, “And we are famous for holding our liquor well.” He let out a hearty laugh then and slapped Lynais hard on the shoulder.
"Bah, you're a silly wizard if you think you can drink an elf under the table who's had his first drink of man's ale in his life,” Lynais said sarcastically.
Aeligon's eyes went wide with surprise. “Your first drink of ale? Here? In Drameda?"
Lynais nodded, tipped his mug bottom-side-up, and gulped down the rest of the ale. He motioned to the bartender for another.
"I thought it might help me forget about Arn,” the elf said in excuse, taking another swig from the fresh mug. The memory of Arn's gruesome death weighed heavily on the elf.
Aeligon was startled by the sudden change of tone in Lynais’ voice. “He will be greatly missed."
"By no one more than I,” the weary elf said, seemingly expecting the wizard's comment. “He left behind a beautiful daughter and a loving wife. I don't know how Selan and Kyana are going to cope with the loss, once they learn of it."
"They haven't yet?"
Lynais shook his head.
"How do you know?"
"I just know,” Lynais answered, gulping down more ale. “I haven't heard their cries in my dreams."
Aeligon put his hand on Lynais’ shoulder. “Arn's spirit will find its way to the Grove of Souls. His was the strongest kind of Elf Spirit to travel on the Path.” The wizard paused, smiled, and added, “After all, he was the one who killed the Orus Dragon that attacked Lunathar those many years ago. I owe this scar to the same battle.” Aeligon traced his finger lightly along the blackened line—the only mar on the otherwise flawless face.
Lynais had turned to the wizard with a somber, almost curious, expression
on his face. “Arn told me every detail; he couldn't stop bragging about it for years after it had happened. I was so proud of him, though I never told him.” Lynais hung his head. “Mark my words—I will avenge Arn's spirit before it reaches the Grove of Souls. Haarath will pay for what he has done, and for what he is doing now."
Lynais clenched a fist, drank the ale down all at once, and chucked the mug across the bar. It smashed against the wall, showering the nearby patrons with shards of glass. When a couple of brutes stood up and loudly cursed Lynais, the elf also rose and drew his elegant sword. These actions sent them back to their seats in a hurry, but not before several apologies were offered for their stupidity.
Lynais turned to leave. Aeligon watched the elf go, much the way he had countless times before. So many tempers in the elfin community. Yet, Lynais had a special depth and steely resolve, held in check until the appropriate moment. The wizard cursed himself for not helping Lynais when he had the chance. Arn's death had left a profound mark of despair on his companion's soul, and it would be hard to stay the anger burgeoning in Lynais’ heart.
This reminded Aeligon of Aerinas, who was upsta
irs battling another round against himself. But what could he do? What more could a Healer do for a rebellious elf who let anger and bitterness rule his soul?
Nothing, he knew. Nothing more. But Ashinon could. Aeligon just hoped that Aerinas would be able to recognize and respect the wisest of the Wizard-kind.
Aerinas had nowhere to run. He never imagined his road would end with him cowering in the corner of a seedy inn—a seedy human inn, no less. He was out of tricks, he knew—save for his magic so effortlessly used in battles past. But, he couldn't feel it. He tried to find it, wading through the sea of emotions necessary to call its might from the depths. Normally, all he had to do was picture Tristandor, and the magic would flare up inside of him and react without hesitation. But why wasn't it working?
My sword! he thought frantically. My sword is what I need to bring the magic to life.
Aerinas tried again, but couldn't unsheathe the blade. He was frustrated. What was he supposed to use as a defense against whatever the book had just summoned?
Suddenly, he felt a tingling in his left hand. It was subtle at first, nearly unnoticeable, except that his desperation had cried out to him. A burning sensation worked its way through his palms and into his fingertips. He looked down and saw the blue lines coursing their way underneath the surface of his skin. Instinctively, he thrust the hand out in front of him to guard against the oncoming attacker and, in the blink of an eye, had a defensive shield in front of his entire body.
The magic violated the surrounding air, pushing the bed across the floor and ripping plaster off the walls like they were made of paper. The figure stopped in its tracks, but didn't retreat, hesitating briefly in its advance. Aerinas was rapidly growing tired from the magical expenditure, so the figure waited patiently. The elf was strong and rebellious, but the lack of knowledge and understanding eventually brought him back to reality.
After Aerinas collapsed to the ground, still conscious, the figure knelt down by his shaking body, threw back its hood, and placed one hand on Aerinas’ stomach. After a few moments, Aerinas opened his eyes. He gasped when he looked at the face of the...man!