And yet, that is what was happening, and happening without explanation. Power, becoming more solid with every passing second, was growing around him and continuing its pressure upon his resistive spell. Each second saw the collective mass of its growth contradict the entirely of his magical background as well as the magical backgrounds of those who were instrumental at its very development. As the pressure mounted, he felt its focus shift from all around him to a diffuse location away from him. Even though the power no longer seemed to focus on him, he maintained his spell, continuing to feed it from his impossibly large magical reservoir.
Until now, the power had no physical presence merely existing as an invisible and insubstantial entity. Yet now, as its growth had far surpassed anything the Wizard had encountered previously, it began to shimmer and congeal in a loosely swirling motion. The shimmering continued to grow in luminescence and took on a distinctly golden color. The light that was illuminating the cavern also began to draw into the golden swirling entity adding to its growing brilliance. He could feel the weight of it, even from the couple hundred feet separating them. In fact, all things in this cavern, except the physical substance of the walls, cavern floor, and ceiling were being drawn and condensed into the center of this growing mass. In the center of the power, he could clearly begin to see the formation of a single ball of light. Floating and becoming more and more dense with every passing second, it emanated a greater solidity than what it had before. It was becoming real, tangible, knowable, yet still unattainable.
And then, a pulse. Sending a wave of its energy though him, he felt nothing but warmth; but not the warmth associated with physical comfortability, rather, the warmth of being held in the arms of his long dead mother as he was nestled against her chest while he was yet an infant. He felt safety, security, and power. Oh did he feel the power. Vast and endless in its scope, it made he, The Grand Wizard of the University, The Great Intellos Saa'ik Saa'ir, Wielder of Knowledge and Guardian of Avendia, seem miniscule and insignificant when set in direct opposition to the solidifying and unimaginable presence. How foolish it seemed to continue with the maintenance of his shielding spell when it could be bypassed with little more than a thought from this magnificent existence.
When he ended his spell, he felt the full force and pressure he was previously being shielded from descend upon his mortality. And it dropped him to his knees from its sheer magnitude. Using his arms for support, he remained there, knees bruised and unable to raise even a single leg in an effort to regain his upright posture. As he fought to lift his head allowing him to barely see, he felt more than saw that the ball of light had grown in scope and density from the surrounding energy. The floating sphere was clearly the center of everything within the confines of this cavern, and it was growing heavier and heavier and heavier as it drew in more and more and more from its surroundings. Yet, it was not separate from its surroundings, it was its surroundings. When there was nothing left, not even the air with which to breathe or sound to hear, when all things were gathered within, the cavern became utterly still reflecting a resounding finality.
All, everything, totality, resonated from this floating ball of illuminating substance. Somehow it embodied everything and nothing at the same time. But what he drew from it more solidly than any other characteristic was intent. Pure, unrivaled, and complete, there was an unconditional and unrelenting quality beyond anything simple knowledge could hope to contain. There was certainty, an unrelenting superiority lacking of any arrogance or any other mortal condition. It was power. No. It was not even power, for being such caused it to fall into that which could be understood by the mortal mind. And as it floated, it was undefinable, unimaginable, and incomprehensible. It could not be quantified nor qualified. It was not. And yet, it was.
Abruptly ending the utter stillness was a second pulse of light, so heavy in its explosion that Intellos was sent sprawling. So bright was its flash that his sight was momentarily seared with the golden brilliance. So loud was the blast, that his hearing was momentarily disrupted. Yet, admits the force of the expulsion of power, he remained unharmed and whole, when his limbs should have been blown from his body. Though he was unable to move, hear, or see, his consciousness never faded, nor did his mind stop its normal functioning. When he was able to roll over to his hands and knees and push himself to a kneeling position, his hearing began to return. As he stood, one foot after the other, the golden glow faded and his eyes were presented with a sight that would change everything.
Radiating all he had come to feel from the sphere of golden light, spanning the entirely of his visual sight, and encompassing a huge amount of the cavern stood the myth of children's stories. He was in the presence of that which redefined the scope of awesome and wonderment. He stood, unmistakably, in the presence of one and only one entity. As brilliant as the sun itself, the golden scales, the golden claws, and the golden eyes all contained a truth extending beyond his small and insignificant knowledge. Here stood, unbelievably, that which was denied since the beginning. Here stood Lacorion - The Dragon King.
Awestricken to a state of complete immobility, the small and young wizard, for that is what he was forced to acknowledge about himself in the presence of this greatness, he was unprepared when the huge figure of completion spoke. The depth of its voice resonated all sound at once. Plunging simultaneously into the heavy base of thunder, and then rising to a crescendo of the tolerable spectrum of pitch the way lightning would lance through one's body, in the span of a single sound, the Great Dragon spoke, and the earth shook:
Esthune, Intellos.
(Greetings Intellos).
Dua Ikdaler.
(You are the Deliverer)
Enoay (Broken).
Still vividly alive within his soul, the love beginning on their field of battle three days ago had done nothing but grow as part of his heart was given to her when their respective spheres of influence joined as one image. Yet as he looked down at the fallen figure of the Elf King Rendunial, his elder brother and best friend, the agony he felt came cascading down upon his consciousness, crippling his ability to walk away. He took two grudgingly difficult breaths and would have fallen to his knees had it not been for the firm pressure of her blades against his skin. Two additional tears streaked down his cheeks mimicking the currents held within the Trindonovorn River. Had his life not been moments from its end, great sobs would have paralyzed his voice from crying out to the gods he had once worshipped. Though now, after seeing the destruction he had caused resulting from a simple decision made years ago stemming from his need to find himself leading to the promiscuous life he had chosen to live and his subsequent reputation, he could not help but consider the truth behind his choice. At the heart of himself, he left because he was inadequate when compared to his brother, the newly named King. Whereas before, they shared in the attention, after the formal Ceremony of Succession, everything changed.
Eriboth was not particularly jealous of the attention Rendunial was receiving, but he was envious. His older brother was too kind of an elf, too grounded in the things that mattered, and too great an example of true Elven virtue to suggest that he would not become possibly the greatest king the elves had ever produced. Such was his persona that it was nigh impossible to find any other emotion except genuine affection when examining who he was and would become. Even when they were but children, Rend had always set the pace for Eriboth's acceptance into the Elven culture, not as an outsider to be tolerated, but as a fellow elf to be celebrated.
How had it come to this? It seemed like only moments ago he was called upon to deliver the Message of Virtue for Princess Glinovia as part of her Indri Primos. During the Iglandonin, and only during the Iglandonin, the Ceremony of Greater Consciousness, The Indri Primos, The Ceremony of Emerging Light, was performed if there were any elves that turned thirty-three during the preceding year. Such was the case since time began and elves were included within its progression. The Iglandonin represented The Great Awake
ning which occurred at some poorly defined and documented end of the first age, when the Elves began their long life spans. For some unknown reason, the normal aging process drastically slowed when an elf turned thirty years of age. It was thought to be exclusive to the Elves as a condition of their creation; however, that thought was drastically challenged when, upon his first return a full eight years after his departure, it was noticed, under no small wonderment, that Eriboth had remained physically without visible signs of alteration. Since he was raised as an elf, even unto his Indri Primos, it was attributed to his own inclusion into the Ceremony of Emerging Light. The importance of the ceremony, from that day and to include extensions of that day to all the days since, could not be over emphasized.
The Message of Virtue was delivered in ancient Elvish by the individual who had been personally selected by the ceremony's honoree as the main influence in their life. And in the case of Princess Glinovia, it was Eriboth. He remembered the days she would come running into his arms as she was always the first person to greet him almost uncannily aware of his appearance. Though he was very adept at avoiding the guards of the rear gate, he could never seem to avoid the knowledge of his Star Daughter. Remembering the words of the King as he expressed his gratitude that his daughter had chosen Eriboth to deliver her Message of Virtue, it caused him to sigh deeply. He recalled standing upon the Alter of Light and facing the great gathering of Elves as the only man to wear the honor of Drahin. He recalled the words he offered to the Princess as she watched him address the gathering.
As he walked to the central dais, he could not help but notice, by the radiant and brilliant locks of blonde hair spilling down across her bare shoulders, that he was not the only representative of the race of man to be in attendance this evening. The stunning gown she wore, lithe and smooth, accented the beautiful curves of her body and perfectly reflected his beating heart in its combination of red and black threads interwoven with red and black jewels. As their eyes met, he saw, for the briefest moment, a break in the confidence she wore upon her face. No doubt as a direct result of their encounter the previous morning, she was confused as to how he, an arrogant and foolhardy man, was being included within the most hallowed part of the most hallowed ceremony of the most enlightened people. He was also forced to acknowledge, to his own surprise, that she too held a position of importance within the Elves as she was the only other human to have been allowed, and quite possibly invited, to witness this most sacred of moments.
Though his greatest desire was to focus his mortal attentions on her and her alone for a time long past forever, he was not so raptured as to forget the great responsibility and honor he was about to fulfill. He had received his invitation several weeks prior, and while most, if not all, of those honored as Drahin labored hours and hours endeavoring to select the most perfect words to reflect the great honor that had been bestowed upon them, he walked a different path. Much like his practice of The Way of Expression, wherein he performed no rehearsed or pre-patterned movements, when he spoke, unless it was poetic in nature (although he would argue that all forms of communication had their genesis from poetry), he preferred to center his intent upon the reflection of his objective identity within the moment, and flow. If he allowed himself to prepare words, or in the case of battle, movements, while not in the moment, then he allowed his expectation of things to come to govern his perceived reality and alter what he perceived as the truth when the truth did present itself. After all, how could he prepare words sufficient for the moment if he was not in the moment yet? The moment did not exist until it happened, and therefore, could not be captured or prepared for. The only hope we have for true preparation is to perfect who we are and allow ourselves to reflect our objective intent when the moment arrives. The goal was to allow ourselves to be, and then allow all things to flow from within.
Reaching the Central Dais, he bowed his head slightly, just enough to hide his eyes from his fellow elves, and collected his intentional identity as the Drahin of Princess Glinovia. He aligned his expressive behavior with his objective intent and became. With his head still slightly bowed, he spoke, "Beyond," allowing the first word to be drawn out slightly before continuing, "Beyond the superficial depth of celebratory jubilation we will enjoy on the eve after this sun has set, beyond the momentary joy we will feel as the expression and intention of tomorrow's celebration, and beyond even the glory of the stars when displayed as the light and life giving splendid entities that they are," he lifted his head to meet the eyes of his audience, "there exists a splendor much more intimate and close. This radiance, while drawing its inspiration from the gods above, is meant to represent all that they cannot. They stand and stare, in their vast and distant forms, as but an abstract example of goodness, graciousness, and all things Elven. It has been often said by those whose wisdom extends far beyond the reaches of my ability, that their light is the hope for the continuance and supremacy of the good we all endeavor to assist. So upon that doctrine, we have spent our considerable lifetimes seeking to promote and reflect the light of the stars and gods above. And while that doctrine, when put to the test as it has in ages past and will no doubt be put to greater tests in ages to come, has been sufficient to support the great vastness and influence that has become known to all reaches and corners of Avendia, I submit to you that all we seek to attain and hold in our hearts and hands rests in the moment we will soon enjoy. For soon to be presented to us, as we can all agree, is the living example of starlight captured and made mortal." He paused at this intersection of his soliloquy to allow the gathering to transition their focus from what he said, to whom he said it for. He briefly glanced to both King Rendunial and Queen Fondrina, but could only spare a moment to acknowledge the pride they were evidently expressing for their daughter.
Shifting his eyes slightly to find the Princess Glinovia who was enjoying her Drahin's words, and in no way regretting her selection, he also momentarily paused on the red and black gowned beauty, who was displaying a slightly disbelieving expression behind the mask of her perfect features. "To this end, do we now have an example of divine purpose and interpretation of all the virtues our Elvish Elders have documented over the endless ages of time and space. What they felt as essential to the continuance of our evolution into the Greater Consciousness was written and passed down through the ages; yet now, we need not seek that description in books and scrolls and stories told from the hearths of our homes. We need only see the influence of the many small things our Princess does in the progression of her life. Who hear has not been touched, even in the smallest way, by her calm continuance and devotion to upholding all Elven virtues? Can any of us recall our lives without the inclusion of her, if even only in the smallest amount, as part of that recollection? Yes, it is true that I have been away for more years that I care to count. And yes, I have been outside of her physical presence enough for many of you to question the validity of having been requested to hold the title Drahin. Yet I will never forget the feeling of having her run into my arms while she was yet a child, and embrace me as if no time had passed. She did not see that I had been gone; she saw that I had returned. She saw the good in me, when many times I could not even see it myself. She saw the very foundation of everything the stars were desiring I would become and nothing that stood in the way of this divinely inspired dream. For we all have it. We all seek it. Yet, so many times, we cannot see it. And losing sight of it results in the cessation of our endeavors to become it. But when one such as her blesses our paths with her journey, we begin to see it again. We see it, not because her presence lays open all of our flaws, but because she closes all of our flaws and opens all of our possibilities. And though I do not wish to see our Great King Rendunial's reign, great as it is, slighted in even the smallest fashion because he is indeed the greatest we have yet seen, I would be remiss in admitting I was not waiting in expectancy at the future reign of Princess Glinovia. The Manifested Starlight divinely combined as part of her light within cannot be denied,
nor can the honor and humility we all possess to welcome her into the Greater Consciousness and the Emerging Light of the Indri Primos."
As his words were carried on the wind from reality to past memory, a resonating applause began to dominate all such sounds of existence. Its thunderous continuance still lived within the ears of his heart days after and would continue to occupy its very own corner well into the future, perhaps even forever. Not even the awful events of this morning would steal the joy and peace he felt as he remembered walking from the Altar of Light to once again take his place to the side as Princess Glinovia was called upon to speak in ancient elvish and accept the melding of her Emerging Light into the Greater Consciousness. Still, even in that moment when all individual clapping and cheering had no option but to be indistinguishable from the group, he was certain he heard each time the blazing, sun-haired beauty's hands collided together.
Though a very long time had passed since he sought the approval of another person as a defining attribute of his success, he caught himself looking to her face to find such approval. And to his surprise, for a fleeting moment, he caught a smile upon her face directed at him. His heart swelled, and his soul sang causing his face to flush red. Blush? He, the great and renowned Eriboth, who had shared the dance floor and bed with women in every status of life from royalty to commoner over the years was blushing as a result of the eyes of a single woman? He remembered collecting himself, averting his gaze, and focusing upon the Princess to maintain his composure. But he was certain she caught the change in his face. Should their paths ever cross again, he was certain she would remind him of her effect on him.
Convergence (The Dragon Within Saga Book 1) Page 31
