The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 01 - Elseerian

by Ben Hale

  The elf had hidden himself well, positioning himself in the shadows between two trees adjacent to the river. Taryn bowled right into him as he rounded a trunk. Each bounced off the other as if he’d touched a hot iron, but it was Taryn who responded first. Bolting north, he raced through the trees. The elf he’d surprised raised the alarm in less than a second, and answering calls rang all around him. Turning a corner, he saw a group of elves massing in front of him. Before they could spot him, he reversed direction and darted south towards the cliff.

  With trees flashing past him, he tried not to berate himself for being seen and focused on what to do. Knowing he had only seconds, he allowed his mind to broaden and pictured the city with the surrounding area. By using the image in his mind, he looked for a route that would be safe, and preferably take him into the city. Remembering something he’d seen from the foot of the cliff suddenly gave him an idea. It was risky, but he didn’t see another option.

  Calls and yells snapped his attention backward as he sped up to avoid his pursuers. A sudden shout in front of him made him veer closer to the river. The fading light began to make it increasingly difficult to see, so he raced through the trunks by memory, retracing his route towards the cliff.

  —Out of nowhere an elven sentry popped up in front of him with drawn sword. Without missing a step, he twisted and rolled right up the sword thrust, barreling into the elf with his lowered shoulder. Unprepared to withstand the blow, the surprised elf stumbled backward and fell into the river with a grunt. With a glance, Taryn realized that they were only thirty feet from the cliff and the elf wouldn’t make it out of the river in time.

  Exploding into motion, he drew Ianna, sliced a long, thin branch off a tree, and flicked the end out towards the struggling elf. Just as the elf grasped the end of the branch, Taryn tossed his end towards a trunk hanging out over the water. An instant later his mother’s sword became a bow. As the end of the branch touched the trunk of the overhanging tree, a green shafted arrow buried itself into the branch and trunk, securing it and providing the elven soldier a lifeline to the bank.

  Without slowing Taryn sped towards the cliff while the branch holding the elf bent and swung him to safety not ten paces from the massive waterfall—but Taryn barely saw it. Still holding his mother’s bow, he raced to very edge of the cliff, quickly crouched and leaned out over the thousand foot drop.

  Drawing back the bow, he sunk two arrows deep into the rock about a foot down from the plateau. Morphing it back to the sword he sheathed it and grabbed his rope off his back. After tying one end securely onto the arrows, he sprinted away from the falls with only inches between his pounding feet and the long drop. As he ran, he let the rope play out beside him so it stretched between him and the arrows holding the other end.

  —Two elves burst into view to his right. Calling for support, they began to pursue him. Within seconds, more elves joined the pursuit so when he broke free of the trees he picked up the pace. Another shout came from behind him, but this time it was a voice of authority. Looking back, he saw numerous elves lining up with bows drawn. Knowing they would not miss, he gauged what was left of his rope.

  Bowstrings twanged behind him and he knew he was out of time. Wrapping what was left of the cord tightly around his left arm and spinning so it looped around his waist, he held on as tight as he could and without hesitation . . . stepped off the cliff. As he dropped from view arrows sliced through the air where he’d been standing—some so close he felt one graze his shoulder as he began to fall, leaving a stinging line in his flesh.

  Picking up speed, he plummeted towards the earth until the rope snapped taut and yanked him east—but he wasn’t swinging . . . he was running! Sprinting as fast as he could, he raced into the curve and fought to hold on to the rope as the motion put more and more force on his body. His legs blurred almost out of sight as he struggled to keep up with his momentum, speeding faster and faster as the rope swung him like a pendulum at the end of its length. Reaching the waterfall, he leapt for all he was worth . . . and sailed across the crashing water—so close he could feel the spray wetting his feet!

  In the blink of an eye he was past the falls and hit the cliff face in a full sprint. Scanning the rock ahead as he began arcing skyward, he desperately looked for what he’d seen from a thousand feet below—a large window.

  Suddenly he saw it, and he was going to miss it . . . if he didn’t adjust his run. By allowing some rope to slide through his fingers, he controlled his angle to point toward the opening as he began to slow. Aligning himself with the window, he drew his father’s sword, and just as he reached the top of his arc, jammed it into the cliff—a foot above the window. Letting go of the rope and reaching inside, he found the inside lip with his left hand and pulled himself to safety, drawing Mazer out of the cliff face as he went.

  Slipping into a dark room, Taryn allowed himself a brief moment to catch his breath before continuing. His desperate maneuver would probably buy him some time, and he hoped it would be enough. The enchanted arrows supporting the rope would disappear soon enough and hopefully no one would see them. If he got lucky, the elves might not even guess that the intruder had gotten into their city—but even as he thought it he knew that the guards would be searching the city regardless. He had to find Liri’s home as quickly as possible.

  Once Taryn’s heart had slowed and he'd steadied his breathing, he searched the room for a way out. The small chamber turned out to hold barrels containing various foodstuffs. A thin layer of dust had settled over most of the room, so it appeared that no one had been in it for some time. Upon closer inspection he found a rack against the back wall that had pegs. It dawned on him that the room was a lookout post, probably rarely used due to its height. There were sure to be similar rooms lower on the cliff. The rack on the back wall was built to hold bows and arrows in times of attack, but he doubted the room had ever been used for that purpose.

  Finding a door behind some barrels, he listened for any sign of movement on the other side. Hearing nothing, he tried the handle—hoping for it to be open—but it proved to be locked. Taryn was sure he could cut through it with his father’s sword, but was reluctant to leave such an obvious mark of passage. Seeing that the door swung inward, he used one of his throwing knives to jimmy each of the pegs that held the hinges. When he was done, he inched open the door only tenuously held by the lock, pausing each time the old metal creaked. As the gap widened, dim torchlight cast shadows into his chamber, revealing an empty corridor on the other side.

  He waited for several seconds to see if anyone appeared, but his caution proved to be unnecessary. Wanting to leave as little sign as possible of his passing, he lifted the entire door into the room and replaced the pegs, using a stray piece of wood as a mallet. Once the door was back on its hinges, he swung it closed behind him, wincing as the rusty iron squeaked in protest. Even though it wouldn’t close all the way because of the locking bar, it should still pass a cursory inspection and, if he was lucky, be passed off as nothing.

  Less than ten minutes after his entry into the city, Taryn set out down the unfamiliar corridor to begin his search. Coming to what he’d thought to be a torch he found it to be a piece of wood that cast flickering light from the top, but there was no fire. He’d been taught that the elves used light magic, although he’d never had the opportunity to see a fireless torch. It appeared as if the elves had found a way to duplicate the light from a fire without the actual flame.

  As fascinating as it was to look at, Taryn continued down the corridor. He’d entered the room at the end of the passageway, so his path led into the plateau but curved in a long, gentle turn to the right. Heavy doors similar to the one he’d opened were inset into the walls on both sides. The walls themselves were fascinating. No seam could be seen to mar the perfectly smooth stone, and he slid his fingers along the walls just to feel the texture.

  After Taryn had passed several doors, the corridor formed a T junction. Taking the path to the right, he mad
e his way to a fortified door. Strong light came out from underneath, causing him to pull up short. Crouching, he peered under the door. No boots could be seen, but it looked like the door led to another storage room, this one well used and clean. Waiting for several moments to ensure that no one was there, he opened the unlocked door as slowly as he could manage. A whine of protest escaped the old hinges, but no one approached at the sound, so he slipped through the crack and closed the door behind him. Ducking some crates, he scanned the room. Three doors led out of the large chamber, two to either side with one right in front of him.

  Guessing that the side doors led to corridors similar to the previous one, he cautiously crossed the room and tried the door in front. Only opening it a sliver, he was relieved to see a long darkened walkway that led to a ledge of the city. No lights graced the walls on either side, so he darted through the door, hoping the flash of light from the opened door would go unnoticed.

  Placing his back to one of the walls he cautiously slid down the corridor. No sound signaled an approach of guards, but he paused every few seconds to listen as he worked his way through the darkness. Fifty feet from the door, the ceiling gave way to open sky and he continued until he reached the very edge of shadow, taking advantage of the opportunity to examine the city a little closer in the rising moonlight.

  Taryn stood on the highest Tier of Azertorn. Above him a low barracks ran along the interior of the high wall. Various stairs led up to the barracks from his ledge. On the tier below him he could see the roofs of tall, ornate buildings blanketed in gardens. At the exact center of the tier below, an extra large building had been carved, much larger than anything else in the city. By the detail and size he assumed it was the governing house of the elves.

  He couldn’t be sure from his location, but it looked like the buildings in the tier below the palace weren’t quite as detailed as the highest tier. All of the lower levels were at least partially obscured by Le Runtáriel, the massive and ancient tree that grew in the center of the bottom level of the city—but it wasn’t the only tree in sight.

  Trees, flowers, and shrubs grew absolutely everywhere—clinging to the stone or free standing, on top of buildings or balconies. Barely a patch of stone was left visible in any direction. Small brooks and miniature canals fed the plants like spider webs of trickling water, imparting life to the veritable forest. In between the trees and buildings, numerous stone arches spanned larger streams. Slim cascades of pure water fell from tier to tier, some only a few inches wide while others were several feet in width. Where the water crossed the base of a level, the stone had been shaped into wide beautiful bridges. Not thirty paces from him he could see a fruit tree reaching out over a rocky waterway that bubbled as it jumped from rock to rock. The sheer volume of moving and falling water lent an almost musical cadence to the environment. Peace washed over him, mixing with the cool breeze, causing him to pause long enough to take a deep breath and close his eyes. The feeling did wonders to combat the subtle fear that felt unnatural in such a place.

  After a moment, Taryn returned his gaze to the splendor of the elven city, wondering how it had been built. There was no way elves had carved the stone in such a fashion. Water, plants, and light were their skills. Only the dwarves could have envisioned and hewed the magnificent city straight from the living rock. Shaking his head at the numerous questions in his mind, he resolved to ask Liri when he met up with her. For now, he focused on where to go.

  Looking across the expanse to the opposite side, he spotted a particularly detailed structure at the northeastern corner. The building, second in size only to the palace, dominated almost a quarter of the entire half ring. Making that his destination, he began planning a route across the open stone.

  As he began to examine different ways to approach his goal, he realized that each level of the city had a lot more to it than he’d thought. For the most part, each larger structure looked to be made up of nine smaller floors built vertically, about a hundred feet tall—at least that is what he assumed based on the number of windows. Each building spanned between two and four windows wide. Between the larger structures he could see the space had been carved out to form flights of stairs. By the signs and decor, the two lowest layers of these structures looked to be shops.

  There were four exceptions to these communal structures. The palace was the largest, while the second largest sat on the second tier down in the northeast corner. Two other large buildings were not segmented. One was positioned adjacent to him. Smaller than the rest but even more detailed, the fourth building rested on the third tier down and immediately below the palace. All other structures looked to be segmented into smaller buildings, albeit of varying detail and design.

  Just as Taryn was finishing his inspection, several guards came into view on his level. Running in his direction they passed him in a hurry before ascending again out of view. Perhaps the elves had figured out what he’d done? Or were they still searching outside the city? Either way he had to move.

  Deciding on a route, he checked for anyone around and then walked casually towards a descending staircase. Hoping his light attitude would help to avoid someone raising an alarm, he forced himself to walk normally through the revealing moonlight. Reaching the stairs without incident, he stepped down the stairs and disappeared into darkness. It turned out that the staircase ran fifty feet before turning back on itself again. On both sides, he passed landings that led to doors, inset into the vine covered stone on either side. The only light came from a single flameless torch on the landing where the stairs turned back to descend further.

  He’d expected the stairs to be perfectly spaced and was not disappointed. Each step had been expertly cut, and their almost ten-foot width would allow heavy traffic without feeling crowded. Reaching the bottom of the first set, he came to a balcony overlooking the city before turning around and heading down again—this time facing inward. After several more switchbacks, he came to the bottom of the stairs. Although he’d encountered no elves, he approached the second tier cautiously—and it was a good thing he did.

  No sooner had he reached the second level when three elves came into view, marching in unison towards him. Taryn slipped from the shadowed stairwell and ducked into the darkened recess of a doorway, allowing them to pass unmolested. Passing his hiding spot, the elves ascended the stairs out of view. He waited a couple of minutes to make sure he was safe, but just as he breathed a sigh and stepped out the three elves came back into view. Dodging back before they could see him, he watched them return and pass him again. Something about the group seemed odd, and a second later he realized that one of the elves was shorter than the other two. The first group had all been the same height. These three must have been following him down without him even knowing!

  Realizing his luck could not hold for long, he proceeded even more carefully on his way to the second level. Pausing at the corner, he poked his head out enough to look around. This tier contained the palace in the center, and it appeared to have an extra contingent of guards. He spotted at least two score patrolling the wide stone pathway in front of the building, and there were sure to be more out of view. Between the palace and his goal there would be no way for him to pass without arousing suspicion.

  Looking for another route he saw none, so he decided to go down another level in the hope of finding it less protected. He suspected the rotation would be similar, so he kept an eye out for another group of three to go down the next flight of stairs—while at the same time watching for someone to come up his own.

  He didn’t have to wait long. Five minutes passed and three elves came up the stairs. Realizing he missed the ones going down, he stayed put until this group had turned towards the palace. Employing the same method as before, he sauntered towards the stairs. Descending quickly he kept his eyes peeled for guards but encountered no one. Reaching the third tier, he checked it for sentries.

  This level was comprised entirely of the segmented structures, and the security proved to
be much lighter. Only three or four patrols could be seen from his position. Hugging the shadowed wall, he worked his way around the bowl towards the opposite side of the city, pausing to marvel at a massive branch that reached out from Le’Runtáriel to embrace the wide pathway. More than once he slipped behind a tree or into a doorway to avoid the roving elves. Before long he reached the eastern side of the city and returned to the second level.

  Once he’d found another hiding spot on the palace level, he realized that the ruling house wasn’t the only one with extra guards. Elves patrolled the two other large buildings as well. Upon closer inspection he realized that the guards were dressed differently. Even from this distance he could tell that the elves at the palace were more stationary, wore brighter armor, and were much more visible, like an honor guard. The elves at the other two houses wore darker shades of green or blue and were far less visible. One other thing stood out about the large house next to him. It had the crest of an eagle carved into the magnificent double doors.

  He’d found the House of Runya.

  Quite a few lights cast a warm glow on Liriana’s home, but it still took Taryn nearly ten minutes to spot all the elves guarding the house. Some were well hidden while others stood as if they were trying to draw attention to themselves. Something about their demeanor told Taryn that they were well trained and would be difficult to get past.

  After a few more minutes of watching the patrol patterns around the house, he thought he saw an opening. There were essentially three groups of elven guards. The first set of ten stood in front of the doors in full view of anyone passing by. The second set of fifteen were hidden in alcoves at different heights all the way to the top and looked to be armed with longbows. Lastly, thirty elves in groups of three patrolled in front of the building and used the stairs. Because the same group of three would eventually reappear several minutes later on the opposite side of the structure, he assumed they circled the building by going up and down the stairs on either side of the large house.