The pale shapeshifter sat there, and, after studying the beings before him in the darkness, began to wonder about his own existence. Time and time again he had been in a similar quandary on the other Planes, watching, learning, and wondering. He had no friends distracting him, nothing in the way of communal partnership. In fact, he believed himself to be the only one of his kind. It was a silly premise, he surmised, because, after all, no other race of creature consisted of only one.
But he was one, the one.
A sharp ringing in his ears brought his mind out of the clouded thoughts wrapping around him. He recognized the familiar signal. Every time he drifted deeper into thoughts about himself, of his mission, his job, of the world as a whole, the ringing came. As he had done a thousand times before, he put his mind back to the task at hand, and the ringing stopped.
He was one.
* * * *
The night passed without incident, much to Aeligon's surprise; he had stayed up all night keeping watch outside Farrin's door because of the Lyymhorn inside. Pux's spells had kept an extra barrier of protection around the giant's stable, but weren't very potent so the young conjurer could get some much needed rest.
Winter was a season of considerable misery in the northern seaport towns. The ever-present moisture in the air, coupled with the freezing temperatures, resulted in the most uncomfortable conditions: sleet, frequent chilly downpours, and deep puddles. The dawn came with the seasonal mix intact and moods to match.
Aeligon went to the elves’ rooms, woke them, then went back to the stable to check on Farrin and the Lyymhorn. He found Farrin awake, with his arms folded across his chest and a somber look on his face. Menishka'dun was sound asleep on the bed against the wall.
"Any disturbances?” Aeligon quietly asked, stepping into the room.
"Not a one,” Farrin answered. His low monotone told the wizard how tired the big man was.
"Couldn't sleep?” the Healer asked, though he could have guessed as much.
"Nah, I wasn't tired.” Farrin looked up at the wizard for the first time since he'd entered the room, and added, “Ta’ be honest, I wasn't too keen on lettin’ this one outta my sight, recallin’ how he turned a stone monster on us. Who knows what condition I'd be in if he woulda caught me snorin'."
Pux laughed loudly, which stirred the sleeping Menishka'dun. “Well, your snoring is enough to make someone want to summon creatures to shut you up."
Farrin was used to baring the brunt of Pux's jokes, so he just smiled and winked at him.
"Menishka'dun, it's good to see you're awake,” Aeligon said, directing
the conversation to the Lyymhorn.
Menishka'dun sat up, rubbed his eyes clean of the night dust, smiled, and said, “Me be up now.” Then the little creature hopped from the bed onto the floor, and stood at attention in front of Aeligon like a soldier awaiting orders.
Aeligon laughed.
"Wish I had that kinda energy in the mornin',” Farrin grumbled. He stood and stretched his large frame.
"We're all assembling in the main hall,” Aeligon said. “We depart this town today."
"Thank the gods,” Farrin sighed. “This place was beginnin’ ta’ gimme the creeps."
"I'll take Menishka'dun with me. Our visitor came back last night."
Farrin's eyes narrowed and he picked up his battleaxe from the corner by his chair. “He did, did he? Good. Now I can add one hell of a notch in me axe."
"Careful, Farrin,” Aeligon warned. Menishka'dun cowered behind Aeligon's right leg, fearful of the big man and his weapon. “I don't know yet what this creature wants with our Lyymhorn here, nor do I know how dangerous it is. Any creature who needs no armor or weapons of this earth to hunt isn't one I want to tangle with before knowing its purpose for being here. We've trod carefully thus far, and I want it to stay that way. Do you understand?"
"Aye, I understand, Aeligon,” Farrin confessed, and he sighed again when he lowered the axe. “But ya’ brought me with ya’ for me axe, right? What good's it to ya’ if I can't use it?"
"In due time, Farrin, your axe will have enough notches to satisfy even you.” The wizard gave the giant a wink, and turned to leave.
Downstairs in the main dining hall of the inn, Aeligon found Tristandor, Foran, Ithyllna, Lynais, and Aerinas sitting at a corner table. The dining hall was otherwise vacant, and Aeligon received a cold response from the bartender when he questioned him.
"Seems our appearance has troubled the patrons of this fine establishment,” Aeligon reported when he joined the elves. Farrin arrived moments later. Aeligon sat Menishka'dun in a chair beside him.
"I'll make this as brief as I can,” Aeligon said, addressing the party. He leaned forward on his elbows and folded his hands before him. “This creature's name is Menishka'dun, and he is a Lyymhorn. Now, before you all start asking questions, Lyymhorns were named back when it was thought they were indigenous to Vaaluna. They are not. In fact, they aren't even from this world."
The elves stared straight ahead, listening intently. Farrin cocked his head, more than a bit confused.
"Recently, certain evidence has been brought to my attention suggesting our Plane to be one of but many such realms,” Aeligon continued, casting glances at Aerinas during his talk. “Ashinon first theorized their existence, and now has confirmed them upon his visit with Aerinas last night."
Expectantly, all eyes turned to the young elf, who tightened his arms around his chest and lowered his head slightly.
"The Planes exist, so we can assume this to explain the elusive evil at work in Vaaluna. It's always one step ahead because it is working from a place where it can see our entire world and beyond. The time has come for us to move on.” Aeligon stood up and gestured to Aerinas silently.
At first, Aerinas was taken aback at the signal, which wasn't rehearsed prior to the meeting. He had no idea what to do until his role dawned on him. He uncoiled his arms from around his chest, and stepped forward.
"We are to go to a place called the Lion's Mouth,” Aerinas began, “which lies to the east according to the map in the burning book Menishka'dun opened for me. I know where this place is, but I know nothing else. Ashinon spoke to me of three fragments of a magical Elfstone brought here by the servants of the goddess Sheevos, ordered by the gods to be scattered around Vaaluna for safe keeping. Whatever these Planes are, and whatever may be contained in them, convinced the gods of the need to protect Sheevos. Here in Vaaluna, she would remain safe from evil."
"But now, evil has found this hiding place, and has woven a tapestry of destruction during the time after Ashinon's death. Our Plane is so unique neither evil nor good can break the barriers and enter here. Ashinon confirmed it—evil has one of the Elfstones in its possession, and is on the march to claim the other two. He told me of a band of pirate raiders who are trekking across the Arthean Sea toward the land of Dunandor in the east, which is near the ruined fortress of El-Caras, where Hydrais’ mirror was hidden. The third fragment is in Dunandor—Haarath was close to it when he found the mirror, but it was too risky for him to search the depths of Dunandor without a hoard."
"So where is the second?” Tristandor asked.
"I was only told to head for this Lion's Mouth place, and the answer would be set before me,” Aerinas answered without turning to look at his father.
"It is settled then,” the Elf-Lord said, rising to his feet. “We make for the Lion's Mouth."
"Do you know where you are going?” Foran asked his friend.
Aerinas nodded. He pulled a small leather book out of his pocket and set it on the table. “Ashinon's book will guide our path."
Farrin stuck his head out, straining to see the tiny book. “How ya’ read that tiny thing?"
Aerinas put his hand over the book, closed his eyes, said something in a strange tongue, and the book suddenly expanded to its original size. “Magic,” he said when he reopened his eyes. He winked at the giant, whose own eyes had opened to the size of cup sauc
ers.
Ithyllna let out a light chuckle.
"Learning to use your magic for other uses besides angry rage, I see,” Tristandor snorted, but before Aerinas could reply, the Elf-Lord stormed off.
Aerinas watched his father walk out of the inn, and he thought about what Ashinon had said to him concerning his parents. Though he tried not to, the young elf couldn't help but think he needed to learn more about his father and mother—his mother! Nimoni was still back in Mynandrias, and, for all he knew, still in a coma. So many questions remained unanswered, but again, his path was moving in a different direction. The quest to uncover the mystery surrounding his parents would have to wait for another time.
"I wonder how King Hrathis and the other giants are making out?” Lynais asked, surprising everyone.
They all realized it really hadn't crossed their minds much. With what they had been through already in the short period of time since the catacombs at Gudred, they didn't have much time to ponder the other key elements in the game.
"I'm sure they're fine,” Farrin barked, waving his hand at Lynais. “No need ta’ worry about me boys and Hrathis. Just long as they have enough o’ ale fer the trip...” He spat when he laughed at his own joke.
"I'll be sending word to them of our progress,” Aeligon said more seriously. “I haven't forgotten about our allies. The king will be ready when he is called."
"And so will me boys!” Farrin roared, still laughing.
"We'd better be leaving,” Aerinas said. “Tristandor is probably halfway to the Lion's Mouth by now with the way he walked out of here."
Aeligon placed his hand on the elf ‘s shoulder, preparing to give his wise counsel. “Tristandor has his own demons to wrestle, as do we all. Don't be too quick to place judgment."
"I'm not,” Aerinas fired back in a whispered voice. “I just wish he'd stop judging me."
Aeligon took a deep breath, and nodded his head. “Let's go. We'll be able to talk more on the road. I expect further revelations concerning Ashinon.” He gave the elf his signature wink.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 13—Blender
Outside, the weather was tumultuous, sleet weighing heavily on the trees of Mynandrias. Everyone was inside their treetop houses to escape the harshness of winter, knowing one slip on the dangerous causeways would spell certain death from the fall.
The twenty members of the Lythardian Council crowded into the hospice room where Nimoni was being cared for. Silently, they prayed to the gods for her well-being. They prayed for the swift and safe return of Tristandor, her husband, and Aerinas, her only son.
No one could guess what had happened to Nimoni. The only evidence they possessed was the magical debris left behind in the Library of Songs, near where Nimoni was found, and the ashes. But the alchemists and scientists of Mynandrias, with all of their cunning, couldn't find anything useful. All of them stopped searching to participate in rounds of prayer vigils and ancient rituals to bring her spirit back into the waking world.
Nothing was working.
They waited and watched, watched and waited. The healers charged with her care, who had explored every known avenue of magic remedies, waited too.
Her mind broke like the tide upon the rocky shoals of a lone island. She felt lost, tumbling. Nothing made sense, and her psyche was overcome by her mental turmoil. She raced on, running through dark tunnels, always following the dim light in the distance. Walls closed in around her, only to twist and warp enough to allow her escape from the disembodied voice chasing her.
Nimoni now knew she wasn't meant to read the book her son's clues had led her to discover. She wondered how much longer the torture would continue. She recognized the people standing over her as part of her husband's High Council, powerful and elite. But they couldn't do anything more to help her, and she was alone.
She heard the voice again, this time a bit further away behind her. Although she had come to fear the voice, barely tolerating its presence, she felt even more alone with it falling away. So she turned back to look from where she had come.
Aerinas!
He was standing there, reaching out to her with his right hand, and smiling. It has been so long since I have seen you smile, son, she thought. Then he disappeared. Was his the voice she'd heard, breathing down her neck like he was right next to her? She wanted to believe he was back in Mynandrias with her. She was losing him again!
Nimoni turned and began to run back toward where she had seen him, only to encounter empty walls. She sank to her knees and began to sob into her hands. So much has been lost to me. My son, my husband—
"But not everything,” interrupted a new voice the elf lady didn't recognize.
She was afraid to remove her hands, but someone else's hands gently clasped hers and pulled them away from her wet face.
Before her stood a man; she could tell from the features. He smiled at her, which gave her a warm feeling amidst the cold, dark places of her mind. His skin was lighter than her own, but he didn't wear the garb of men. Not a normal man—no. The lighter skinned men of this kind dwelt in the city of Lunathar to the northwest of Mynandrias, men whom many Krayn helped defend during the rebuilding of the great wizard city. She found the answer: the man was a wizard, but not one she recognized.
The wizard lightly put his right hand under Nimoni's chin, and eased her to her feet. He kept smiling at her, captivating her with his kindred spirit. It had taken him a long time to find her, since her physical essence had languished.
"Who are you?” she managed to ask when she gained her balance.
"I am Ashinon, Milady,” he answered. His voice was deep and calm, unlike anything Nimoni had ever heard before.
"I know enough of the wizard city to know you fell long ago. How and why have you come to me here?"
"Your body is weak,” the wizard began, “but your spirit wanders aimlessly. I would have come to you sooner, but you found my book before I could."
"Your book?” Nimoni asked, confused. “I assumed it to be my son's book. After finding a note containing numbers in his journal, I took the note to our library, and there I found the book you claim was not his."
Ashinon shook his head, still smiling. “While not his, it was meant for him to find, and no other. I planted the note there so he could find it, but my inability to see all things and bend freewill played against me this time. Because fate overcame my intentions, we find ourselves here, Nimoni. Spirit to spirit, tormented minds alike, we find ourselves in between the spirit world and the physical—worlds I have come to know as the Planes."
"I know nothing about your Planes. I only know my son might be in trouble."
"Your son is fine, at the moment,” Ashinon said. His smile lessened. “But he needs reassurance because he has seen your condition through the eyes of the wizard Aeligon, and agonizes for you night and day. It has reduced his faith, what little of it there was before. I have come to inform you of this. Your son needs you because your role in his destiny is paramount."
"But the fires are growing to the west,” Nimoni cried. “Aerinas is walking into certain death at the hands of the invading evil, while I am left behind to watch the same evil creep into our lands and devour us all. What am I able to do amidst all this?"
Ashinon squeezed her hands even tighter, bringing his face in closer to hers. The walls melted away, and the glowing firelight intensified around them. Nimoni could feel her body convulsing with fever while he spoke.
"Your intuition as a mother and a member of the great Krayn elfin-kind has already given you foresight. Remember the trinket you gave to Ithyllna before they left for Gudred? You gave it to her so she would have a link to you in times of need, but you did not fully understand its true power. They have all seen you in this condition, Aerinas included. The magic contained in the ivory charm has linked each member of the party to you. Can you not see now? You must awaken! Only then will they see hope in their cause, which has waned greatly since your fall."
"It has been reborn, Nimoni,” Ashinon answered powerfully. The look in his eyes took the breath out of Nimoni, for she knew what he meant. She closed her eyes and pursed her lips, fearful of past transgressions.
"Yes,” Ashinon continued, sensing Nimoni's recollection. “The blood joined has reestablished the bond of magic between the races. There is no denying of what now flows through Aerinas’ veins. After all of these years, forgotten and forsaken, the past has come full circle into the present to play a role in the destiny of all of the realms of Vaaluna and beyond."
Nimoni began to weep into her hands again, and Ashinon ventured to hold her close to his chest. He felt sorry for her, even though his human side had long ago dissolved. Emotional attachments remained; Sheevos had promised him that curse. These connections let him take on the role needed in support of Sheevos’ quest to maintain the precious balance of the Elderon.
The elf lady wept for several moments while Ashinon held her. The intense firelight around them shrank away, and the walls widened. Nimoni's mind was letting go. Finally, she lifted her eyes to meet Ashinon's. He again offered her a reassuring smile, hoping to convey a thousand words of hope in the simple gesture.
"I never thought past mistakes would return to haunt me,” Nimoni admitted, wiping the tears from her eyes with her sleeve. “If my son ever discovered the truth, it might turn his heart away from Sheevos and the quest at hand, forever."
Alliances Page 24
