by Ravek Hunter
Qel was momentarily taken aback. They had received no such instruction, and he wondered if he should have asked when they were at the Wizards Tower in Aquilon. So far he didn’t think they had offended too many of the Sylvan, with the exception of that one Fairy. They had done pretty well, he thought.
On the other side of the plaza was the royal palace Aelrindel had mentioned when they were in Braetling, and it was everything he said it was and more. If anything, the elf downplayed the beauty and expanse of the natural architecture. Somehow, the thousands of trees, vines, and foliage that had come together to create it must have taken a thousand years to accomplish. The structure of the palace, with towering spires, broad balconies, and elevated walkways, seemed impossible to achieve without construction. Yet there it was, in front of them. Artistic details with vine, leaf, and branch gave every surface a heightened level of magnificence he could never have imagined in any architecture. Adding to the mystery, Qel could sense that the entire palace was alive with magic and it appeared that the oldest sections of the palace had petrified rather than deteriorated or rotted when the host tree eventually died. The Elves were the second oldest civilization on the planet behind the Tuatha De, and Qel could only wonder at what this forest had seen over the millennia.
Aelrindel led them around the plaza to a comfortable inn within the foreigners’ district, not far from the marketplace. “Will you both join me for the evening meal at my home tonight? It would be my honor to present you to my family.”
“Of course we will.” Qel was eager to meet Aelrindel’s family. “And the honor would be ours.”
“Wonderful, I will return to retrieve you at sundown.” With a wave, the elf disappeared back into the crowds of Avalon.
There were several other Atlanteans in the common room of the inn, as well as a few Dwarfs and the strange human-like people Qel recognized as Tuatha De. The Tuatha De, Qel mused to himself, the most mysterious of all people, perhaps more so than either the Elves or the Reptilians. They were known as an ancient people from a land north of Lyonesse. To all appearances, they were just a larger version of humans, except that they most definitely were not.
Generally, their features were dominated by blonde or red hair with blue or light-colored eyes, thin lips, long noses, and deep-set eyes. Most exceptional was their high propensity for magic and aptitude for creations of magic. Often they traveled on discs that levitated off the ground using a cloud of dark air similar to the Atlanteans’ floating disks. Qel realized that he really didn’t know much about the Tuatha De and made a mental note to ask Havacian what he knew from Master Curatei’s teachings when they next had a chance to talk.
The inn where they stayed had a two-room suite available which they gratefully accepted from the Sylvan innkeeper. A young elf boy took charge of their horses while Qel and Havacian carried their travel packs to their room to clean up and relax before Aelrindel returned for them in a few hours. The room was strikingly similar to the guest house they stayed at in Braetling, and Qel supposed that there must be a basic floor plan for rooms and residences that allowed for them to be created with more consistency.
“Shall we go back to the common room and enjoy a drink or two before Aelrindel returns?” Havacian looked as energized as Qel felt and he eagerly agreed.
A short time later, Qel was relaxing in a comfortable chair drinking the apple wine Avalon was so well-known for. He had to admit that it was surprisingly good. “Havacian, what have you learned about the Tuatha De?” There were several of them sitting at a table nearby acting half inebriated, having a good time like any other race. Not like the Dwarfs, of course—no one could hold a candle to their level of debauchery, not even the humans.
Havacian furrowed his eyebrows and spoke as if he was conjuring the words. “The histories speak of them as different than they are today. You know about the Blood, right?”
“They are like the masters or the revered in our society, as I understand it,” Qel offered, but he was not really sure.
“More than that,” Havacian leaned toward him and spoke in almost a whisper, as if one among the crowd across the room might overhear him. “The Blood have godlike powers, or had, anyway. Not many of them are still alive today. So says Master Curatei.”
Qel was intrigued now. “What happened to them? And how are they different from those over there?”
“During the time that the Tuatha De were creating species to serve them, there were many more Blood and only a few like the ones over there.” Havacian gestured to the group of Tuatha De laughing in the common room. “Then there was an insurrection of sorts that occurred. The story everyone knows is that the creatures the Blood created rose up against them and that they were defeated and banished to Fomoire, but that is not the complete truth of it.” Havacian drained his cup of apple wine and poured himself another from the carafe on the table. “There is a book written in the Third Age of the Golden Aspen by the Watcher CrellianRafkarSil of Avalon, and he records what really happened.”
“The Third Age?” Qel was astonished. “Atlantis didn’t develop as a civilization until the Sylvan Fourth Age. You are speaking of several thousands of years ago.”
“Indeed,” Havacian replied. “Three thousand three hundred seventy-eight years ago, to be exact. I was curious about that myself. Anyway, what CrellianRafkarSil reported was that the creatures did not rise on their own. They were led.”
“A civil war among the Tuatha De?”
“Exactly.”
“What happened?” Qel begged.
“Some of the Tuatha De Blood refused to give up their creations, and violent conflict erupted between them. Thousands died,” Havacian physically shuddered. “The Tuatha De were almost all of the Blood then. Powerful and godlike, they tore one another to pieces. Many thousands died on both sides, including most of the Blood, before it ended. When it was over, the few who survived banished their creations to Fomoire. The ones that they could find, anyway. Some records reveal that many of the more intelligent creatures managed to escape into the Wilds. Now they can be found all over the world, the Trolls and Ogres among them. It has even been speculated that the Dwarfs were an original creation of the Tuatha De,” Havacian chuckled, “although they vehemently deny that to the point of violence. In the end, what remained of the Tuatha De Blood divided the ruins of their four cities among the survivors.”
It was Qel’s turn to drain his cup and pour another. “So what of these other Tuatha De? The ones that are not of the Blood?”
“The few living Tuatha De of the Blood organized into families and elected a principal to head each one. They would become the royalty of the cities Falias, Gorias, Finias, and Murias. The problem they faced then was that there were nearly no people to populate their cities.” Havacian ran his fingers through his brown hair, which was tinged with the mist of sweat from the drink and the telling. “The Elves were secluded, the Dwarfs were grotesque, and the humans were just starting to build rudimentary civilizations. Despite their lack of advanced development, the Tuatha De thought the humans were beautiful and decided to mate with them and populate their cities with their offspring.”
“So the first human cities were in the lands of the Tuatha De?” Qel was incredulous.
“Essentially half human, but the Tuatha De born to human mothers were much different than that of the average human. They were a highly magical people that took their power from somewhere other than nature or Orichalcum Crystals. The masters are still unsure of the origin of their power.”
“What of the Tuatha De Blood?” Qel asked.
“There are so few of them now, perhaps only a dozen or so from what Master Curatei says, and that will be the last of them. Either something happened during the conflict that ended their ability to procreate among themselves, or they never could. There are no records of children among the Tuatha De Blood. Even CrellianRafkarSil never recorded anything about it one way or another. There will be no more Tuatha De Blood when the ones alive today eventually
die, and all that will be left will be their progeny filtered down through their human mates.”
“The Blood must live a long time,” Qel observed, “if they are still alive after three thousand years.”
“Apparently so,” Havacian agreed, “but for how much longer? Who knows?”
When Aelrindel returned to the inn, the sun was already below the horizon, and Qel waved him over to where they were still drinking in the common room. “Sadly, my parents are out of the city this evening,” the elf told them. “So, if you like, I will take you on a tour of Avalon City, and we will have the evening meal at a tavern mostly patronized by locals.”
“That is a fine alternative, although we are saddened that we will be unable to meet your family tonight.” Qel stood, eager to see Avalon City at night.
They departed the inn and stopped for a moment to observe the surrounding forest dwellings. Almost all emitted a yellow glow from their interiors, competing with the light globes that lit the streets outside atop tall poles grown out of the ground at intervals. It had become dark while they waited for Aelrindel to return for them, and Avalon City appeared very different when they emerged into the night. Looking high up into the branches above them, Qel was surprised to see many other dwellings and walkways that he had not noticed before. The numerous lights from their windows shone like stars in the dark canopy, giving the illusion of an open sky above them. Considering the elevation of so many dwellings and the size of the city, there must have been several thousand Elves that resided among the vast network of branches.
Soon the companions were back at the grand plaza where the merchants hawking and trading were still in full force. “They will go as late as midevening before they are compelled to close until the next morning. At least for a few hours, the city must be quiet.”
Qel agreed that the market was quite noisy, but now that the sun had set, the marketplace was filled with magical light globes hanging on poles, suspended from merchant’s stalls, or carried by shoppers. Many were in colors other than natural light, especially those illuminating the merchant stalls to attract attention with tones of blue, red, green, and yellow. It was beautiful. Then there was the palace that loomed over the plaza like a massive guardian. The entire palace structure was somehow bathed in a frost-blue light that contrasted with the warm yellow glow from the market and illuminated many of the dozens of windows facing the plaza. For Qel to say that the palace, with its glowing towers and natural façade, was also beautiful, would be an egregious understatement.
Taverns set on the edge of the plaza moved more chairs and tables outside with nightfall so their patrons could enjoy their meal or drink in the night air of the chilly spring evening. Music drifted on the breeze from a nearby musician playing the flute and entertaining the patrons seated outside of one tavern. There were several groups of musicians around the perimeter of the plaza, which was so expansive that they all could play without creating a cacophony of sound. Then there were the fragrances of cooked food that made Qel’s stomach grumble loudly, reminding him that he had not eaten anything since midday.
His attention was suddenly diverted to an almost humorous scene playing out between a Dwarf merchant and a tiny Fairy standing on a display table full of hundreds of everyday household utensils made of Dvergr steel. The two were embroiled in a heated argument until finally the Dwarf shrugged and handed the Fairy a small steel pin. The Fairy, in turn, threw the Dwarf a tiny bag and flew away with her hard-won item. Qel couldn’t help but laugh, drawing the Dwarf’s attention, and he quickly held up his hands in a gesture of apology. The Dwarf turned his back on him with a loud harrumph, then turned his attention to another patron. Still smiling, Qel followed along behind Aelrindel and Havacian around the outside edge of the marketplace. Having just seen the Fairy, Qel realized that there were hundreds of them buzzing around the plaza like bumblebees and dragonflies. Most carried tiny little light globes bright enough to be seen by their larger brethren, and they flew high above the crowd’s heads to avoid being trampled. Before he saw the Fairy up close with the Dwarf, Qel assumed that the ones flying about were light bugs. He was happy to be wrong.
As fantastic as the City of Atlantis was, Qel was utterly taken in by the beauty and ambiance of Avalon City. They passed a wide street that Aelrindel said led to the Foreign District. Qel could see the southern edge of an odd stone structure. It had neither wall nor any windows that Qel could see, and the entrance was blocked by two massive oak doors. The building was dark except for illumination from the light globes along the street.
“That is the embassy of the Dwarfs,” Aelrindel said.
Qel thought the two stone buildings looked so out of place in this city of natural beauty that he wondered why they were allowed to build them. The last complex Aelrindel showed them looked like any other structure in the city. The doors were open, and there were several Atlanteans inside. “That is the Atlantean embassy,” Aelrindel informed them.
Qel was relieved. “I’m glad it’s not a ridiculous structure like the others we have seen this evening.”
The smell of cooked food coming from a building that looked too short to stand in and was completely covered with strange bulging roots made Qel’s stomach rumble with more urgency. He recognized the smell of grilled hartebeest and mahiz, a staple of the Atlantean diet that he had enjoyed many times in his life, and it left his mouth watering for a taste.
“That’s a cookhouse,” Aelrindel explained. “They are located near the residences and in the rear courtyard of every tavern and inn all over the city. The full-sized kitchens are sunken into the ground and built completely of stone on the inside. The roots and vines growing over them are perpetually saturated with water in case there is an accident, and they also to hide their inconsistency with the rest of the city. Just like in Braetling, no flame is allowed anywhere in the city, with the exception of the cookhouses.”
Finally, to the great relief of Qel’s complaining stomach, Aelrindel stopped at a small tavern off the main street, and they went inside. There was enough room for only maybe twenty people to sit, and it was nearly full. Aelrindel found them spaces together at a long table where Elves who were already seated greeted them. Although there were only Elves in the tavern, they didn’t seem bothered at all by their intrusion.
“How long will you two be staying in the city?” Aelrindel asked.
Qel looked at Havacian. “At least a few more days. We don’t have any particular plans, so we will probably explore the city thoroughly before we move on.”
Aelrindel smiled. “Great. I have work that requires my attention tomorrow; however, I will return the next day, and I will take you to the wild apple groves outside the city if you like.”
“That would be wonderful,” Qel replied. “Everyone has heard of the legendary apple groves of Avalon, though few have seen them.”
They were treated to their fill with rabbit stew, crusty bread, and wild asparagus porridge seasoned with local herbs before strolling back to their inn sometime later. It was a long day of traveling, and Qel looked forward to a full day exploring the city that would have them up early the next day. Thanking Aelrindel for his hospitality, they retired to their room for the evening.
~~~
The next day, Qel and Havacian rose early, excited to explore Avalon City further. They spent the first half of the day at the market sampling strange food and perusing unusual wares from all over the world. By late afternoon, Qel suggested they take a break from the market, and the two agreed to stop by the Atlantean embassy near their inn. Once there, they learned that the Wizards Tower was located on the other side of the city. They considered staying at the Tower when they arrived in Avalon City and then decided against it, preferring to experience the city from a local perspective even if it was within the Foreigners District.
“We should check in at the Tower before we leave Avalon City in case there are any messages for us,” Qel suggested.
“It’s on the far side of the city, an
d the day is running short,” replied Havacian. “Shall we plan to go tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow would be best,” Qel agreed.
When nightfall found them once more, Qel suggested that they spend the evening enjoying the sights and sounds of the marketplace at one of the taverns with outdoor seating. It didn’t take long to find one with seats at a small table and an orchestra that played pleasant music. From where they sat, Qel could observe the still busy market, the impressive canopy of lights cast from the natural structures high above them, and the legendary Sylvan palace that had to be the most inspiring building, if he could call it that, he had ever seen. It was much like all the other grown constructs in Avalon City at a much larger scale, with massive tree trunks and exposed roots forming its foundation, thick branches shaping its frame, with thin vines that overlapped continuously acting as the mortar that filled in all the spaces. The entire palace was covered with leaves and moss that formed intricate patterns between huge effigies of animals that seemed impossible to have been created with living foliage. Qel did not doubt that given its sheer size, stretching to the highest elevations above them and with the complex of structures that it encompassed, that it was easily as vast as the palace in Atlantis.
During the evening meal, Qel was looking closely at the Sylvan Palace when he noticed a soft red glow emanating from high upon the very top of the structure. Considering the entire palace was illuminated in blue light, the dull luminescence of the red-glowing crystal at the apex of one of the palace’s tallest towers was barely noticeable.
Qel pointed out the glow to Havacian. “I was wondering where the Source Crystal was located.”
After a moment of quiet study, Havacian agreed. “I can feel the Source very strong in Avalon City, stronger than I could feel it in Braetling and nearly as strong as our home. I was certain that a large Source Crystal had to be nearby, and I just assumed it was atop the Wizards Tower.”
