Multi-colored lights streamed out of the box as he opened it. His breath left him as he took in the sight of his gift. It was a sword with a long, naked blade, and beside it laid a sheath and a leather belt. But what made the sword magnificent and what made Eliesmore’s eyes widen in astonishment was its hilt. Jewels covered it: diamonds, sapphires, emeralds, and rubies. As Eliesmore reached out a hand to touch the gems, they dwarfed his hands. Eliesmore sat back on his heels, gazing at the sword that was almost as big as he was. He knew what it was; it was the legendary Jeweled Sword, known from the tales of Pharengon of the Jeweled Sword and his Companions.
The sacred moment was broken as a voice in the distance shouted: “Eliesmore!”
A hint of dread touched Eliesmore again, and in one swift motion, he shut the box and slid it under the bed. “Mama!” he shouted and ran towards the open door. The two of them met by the house, tears covering their faces. Eliesmore leaped and was in his mother’s arms. She held on to him tightly, as if she would never let go. “Oh Eliesmore,” she choked. “I thought I had lost you too.”
Much later, as dusk was falling, Eliesmore lay in his mother’s arms as they rested on the bed. They were both dry-eyed, having stayed close throughout the remainder of the day. Eliesmore watched the shadows surrounding the house. One candle burned just enough to illuminate the table it sat on. He peered up at his mother, but her face hid in the shadows. She was quieter than usual; he could almost see the thoughts turning over in her mind. “Eliesmore,” she whispered. “Why did you go to the sea?”
“I wanted to see it. I can hear it at night. It wanted me to go.” The words sounded rational to him.
“Did you like what you saw?”
“Yes, it was very nice.” He nodded.
“Then why did you get scared?” The sight of her son in torn clothes and with a tear-streaked face had frightened her. At first, she thought someone or something had harmed him.
“I couldn’t find you.” Eliesmore shrugged; the box and its contents were out of sight and out of mind.
Myran sighed and stroked his dark head. “Eliesmore, next time, tell me. I would have taken you. Do not go to the sea again. You are too young, and this world is too dangerous.”
“Yes, Mama,” Eliesmore whispered, accepting her rebuke.
“Eliesmore.” Myran turned so she could study his face in the dark. “Would you like to go on an adventure?”
“Yes.” He closed his eyes for this was always how she started out old tales of great deeds.
“There is a house,” she began. “When I first saw it, the glory of spring was upon the land, and the flowers were blooming. It lay at the foot of a forest, far away from here and the sea, close to a hidden world of its own. There we can be safe from those who come across sea and land, and you will feel closer to the wild world and farther from the grasp of the dangerous sea. We will be free there, freer than we are here, cooped up on the edge of the world. Do you want to go there, Eliesmore?”
“Yes.” He nodded, although his eyes were closing. A house at the edge of the forest sounded better than hiding.
“Okay.” Myran's heartbeat slowed in relief. “We will go in the morning.”
As Eliesmore fell asleep in her arms, she hoped the home her late husband had built for her would still be there. She had not been there in over five years, and there was small hope that the hut would still be standing unoccupied. But she had to get Eliesmore away from the sea. There was no knowing who had seen him or how long he was out there.
Eliesmore jolted awake. His mother bustled around the hut, packing. He sat up, disoriented, with his heart pounding furiously. What was the dream? It had frightened him. Then he remembered the sword he had hidden under the bed. They were moving, and he did not know what to do. Blinking against the sunlight coming through the open door, he glanced at his mother before eyeing his hiding spot. Stealthily he rose and dropped to all fours, wiggling under the bed. The box was still there, gathering dust from the night. An idea struck him. He pulled the quilt off the bed, wrapped the box in it, crawled out from under the bed, and announced, “I’ll carry the blankets.”
Myran smiled fondly at him. “Come get some food. We have a long journey today.”
“Will we be there tonight?” Eliesmore asked in excitement as he settled down to eat.
“No.” Myran sat down across from him, ruffling his curls. “I do not know how long it will take.”
The supposed short trip to their new home took a while. The blanket and the sword turned out to be quite cumbersome, and Eliesmore dragged them behind him day after day. Myran carried everything else and rarely slept as she led the way, only hoping she was going in the right direction. The world seemed dark indeed and unusually silent. It was rare they saw animals in the open, although they heard them. The night was a time of horror. Eliesmore suffered nightmares, and his mother held him as he slept, barely sleeping herself. The day they arrived at their new home, they felt like shadows of themselves; they were hungry, sore, and sleep-deprived. The house was waiting for them, with a single elm tree growing up the side of it. If Eliesmore thought to look, he would have seen tears in his mother’s eyes, but he was lost in relief at arriving at their destination. So their brief adventure began and so it ended. That night it rained fit to drown the world, and Eliesmore slept alone in his new room.
Eliesmore woke early the next day and, taking the box with him, crept downstairs. He opened the door and saw the water glistening around him, creating a world of mirrors. He slipped outside and looked towards the forest. Although it was dark and thick, it did not frighten him. He walked towards it, thinking to hide his sword there. As the sun rose and began to burn the fog away, he found himself at the top of the hill. Looking down, he could see the hut where his mother slept, making up for lost nights of sleep.
He pushed on for the trees. When he finally reached the foot of the forest, he found a stick and began to dig. The ground was soft and gave way, crumbling beneath his small hands. It was no trouble to push the box into a hole and cover it up, although it took him almost two hours before the task was done. Satisfied with his handiwork, Eliesmore stood up and took his dirty hands, clothes, and shoes back home with a lighter heart.
4
Eliesmore
Year 937
Eliesmore jerked and sat up. It was close to midnight, and the moonlight was shining into his room. He got out of bed and went to the window. The leaves of the elm tree glistened in the silvery luminescence, and he felt a call.
Myran and Eliesmore had been there for eight years. Eliesmore was thirteen now and not more than five feet tall. His wavy, black hair grew halfway down his neck in the back, tickled his ears, and danced on his forehead. His large, green eyes took in everything. He was naturally curious, however his mother’s overprotectiveness often frustrated him.
Now he stood at the window, hearing a faint call in his heart. It was inviting yet persistent. Quietly as he could, Eliesmore pulled opened the window, cringing as a hinge squeaked. The warm night air imbued the room while the soft wind tugged at him like fingers. Who was calling him and why? How did they know how to reach his very heartstrings? Should he go into the night and find out? If he asked his mother, she would say no, but this was his adventure, wasn’t it?
Eliesmore sat on the windowsill, watching the branches of the elm tree reach for him through the window. Thick ivy circled the tree, its vines twining around the hut. The longer he sat, the more confident he became. The call could not be ignored. He had to go. Forgetting caution, he reached for the ivy and swung his way down the elm tree. Right before he reached the bottom, he flung himself into the air, limbs flailing for a few seconds before he landed. He crouched on all fours in the grass. A broad grin split his face as he caught his breath, stood, and turned towards the forest. Animals were assembling on the hill, their various shapes creating a trail for Eliesmore to follow as they lumbered into the wood. Delighted to be free of his room and knowing he was meant to follow them
, he took off running. His feet were bare, and his white shirt flapped behind him. Anticipation built in his chest until his cheeks hurt from grinning.
The grass was springy under his feet, and the moonlight lit his way. By the time he reached the top of the hill, the animals were already gone, although he could see the last ones scampering into the forest. Eliesmore paused to catch his breath and then, at a much slower pace, started after them. He did not even hesitate as he crossed the boundaries of his home, the Land of Lock called Locherenixzes, and slipped into Shimla, home of the immortals, the Iaen, more commonly known as the Idrains.
It was summer, and even though the trees and underbrush were in full growth, the forest was not as dense as he expected. Dark green appeared like velvet in the light, and Eliesmore felt something old and enchanting as he stole into the hidden world. Ahead of him, he saw a group of beasts, following a secret path to their destination. In his rush to keep up, he stepped on a twig. A sharp snap rang out behind him, and he spun around before he understood it was his footfalls making the noise. He rushed forward again, tripping on tangled brambles. The racket echoed harmlessly through the wood while slivers of moonlight teased his progress. He found himself sliding on grass and leaves, reaching for ivy and vines to help keep his balance as he continued. After a time, he found he could scarcely see the animals ahead nor hear them anymore. Alone in the shadowed forest, he felt as if he were making the din of a hundred people. No longer was the impatient call firm in his heart, but there was no way back from the impossible maze of the wood.
Eventually, he began to hear something. It sounded like soft thumps in the ground as if someone or a large number of someones were stomping in a rhythm. It grew louder as he continued, and just when he thought he would burst from curiosity, he came into an opening. A pure white radiance beamed down, displaying the antics in the clearing. A fire glowed in the center, surrounded by smooth round stones that were double stacked upon each other. The fire flicked in glee, daring to compete with the light of the moon. Around the circle of fire, a group was beginning to gather. White horses pranced in place with their gray-colored foals—for they had not chosen a side on the Black or White Steeds. Their choice would determine their color. Short-horned goats and round, fluffy sheep were there, mingling with tawny brown lions, giant striped tigers, and light-footed deer. Rabbits and hares leaped underfoot while white panthers and wolves chased them in playfulness. Squirrels chattered in the trees, tossing nuts to each other while mice scurried to and from the fire, sniffing and flinging more twigs into the flame.
Eliesmore spun in a slow circle, wide-eyed as he counted the various species of animals gathered in peace and harmony. Chip-toothed woodchucks and fat rats brought chirping chipmunks and prickly porcupines with them. The red foxes slunk out of their holes bringing weasels, opossums, raccoons, bobcats, and gophers. They kept gyrating as they circled the fire. After a moment, Eliesmore understood they were dancing. His mouth hung open in surprise, and his eyes grew round when he saw the next creatures dancing out of the wood: Iaens.
First came the pale Green People, bringing with them the Idrains, the night creatures. There were the Myidraids, Idrains only a foot tall with long red hair, big gray eyes, and wings under their arms. Above them floated the Nigidrains, even though they were only five inches tall they were pronounced the ruling Idrains. They were known for creating beauty whenever they went, turning caves in the forest into glorious kingdoms. Upon their fair heads, each one wore a golden crown and carried a specter, sparkling with light. Their clothes rippled in the glow, shining as if carved from jewels. The Shimidrains followed in their wake. They were often mistaken for large butterflies. Most of them had wavy, black hair and were quite fair and slender. They ranged in sizes; some were large while others were small. Their majestic wings caught and reflected the light of the moon and the flickering fire, scattering prisms of light across the clearing. They landed on trees, animals, and Green People, briefly fluttering before flying to another perch.
The fire roared, casting its flames above the tallest creatures, and the beat of the drums took on a frantic rhythm. Eliesmore felt the thump in his blood. His feet moved, and the sky began to rain. It was an unusual sort of rain because Rainidrains burst out of the droplets and fluttered down on the revelry. Each had at least two pairs of transparent wings on their backs that flapped continuously like hummingbirds’ wings. As they flew, an enormous flock of birds descended and began to sing, their voices blending in with the drums. There were sparrows, robins, chickadees, woodpeckers, cardinals, mockingbirds, thrushes, bluebirds, martins, hummingbirds, terns, orioles, mynas, nightingales, warblers, and many others. Eliesmore could not begin to describe their bright and delicate colors. They flew here and there, landing in the trees and on the ground, spreading their wings, and lifting their voices above all others.
As if the dance was not grand enough, Eliesmore was fascinated when he saw more Idrains slip out of the shadows of the trees and join the circle. There were the Falidrains with golden hair, ranging between four and five feet tall. They were slender, quick, and light of foot, which made them appear smaller than they were. Last of all, the Jesnidrains came out dressed in forest green. Their dark coloring allowed them to blend into the shadows, and their bright eyes glowed yellow. They moved without a sound, sometimes floating in the air for no reason at all. Once they joined, the dance seemed to be complete.
The Iaens and animals of the wood gathered around the fire, forming circles. Each row twined and mingled with the others. The fire continued to grow brighter until it seemed it was the only light of the wood. The music increased as Idrains, perched high in trees, brought out their instruments and began to play.
Eliesmore slipped into the dancing circles, his feet pounding the ground, and his heart lifting in anticipation. The fire cast a rich golden gleam about the glade, and one by one, the dancers reached out to each other, joining hands. They lifted up their voices and began to sing, and even the trees and their leaves swayed in jubilee.
A creature passed him a jar of liquid gold. Eliesmore drank the warm, sweet nectar, feeling it leap inside his belly. His eyes glazed over in pleasure, and he felt himself writhe and curl as he moved in rhythm to the dance. A Falidrain, her face as pure and cold as marble, wrapped her arms around him, laughing with glee as she twirled him to another partner. A Jesnidrain, more nude than clothed, stretched her wings, gyrating through the glade. Creatures lifted their arms in the air and bowed to invisible deities as they danced.
Around they went, swinging their legs and with their arms lifted up. Together they were one, joining a celebration as they danced the night away. The warmth from the fire did not deter them, and the coolness of the wind did not chill them. Eliesmore had not known such splendid events could happen and did happen right outside his window. The song continued, the musical voices blending and harmonizing with a chorus of “sing and dance” shouted out every few stanzas or so. They sang of the forest and the Green Havens, they praised the beauty of the South World and the land of Shimla, they spoke of the stars and the moon, and the nightly gatherings to dance. They even sang of the One who would save the world, honoring and welcoming his future coming. Eliesmore had never heard of “Song”, he was not sure what the words meant, but the lack of knowledge did not hinder his dancing.
Eliesmore found himself laughing and shouting out “sing and dance” with the creatures while he kicked his legs and threw his hands in the air. He was dragged around one circle and spun to another one, until the fire’s brazen warmth made him sweat. At one point, he threw back his head and glimpsed the twinkling stars. For a moment, he imagined they were singing and dancing along with him. His heart was full. His head was drunk from the intoxicating music, the unending dance, the blur of the fire, the sweet liquid, the song of the birds, and the Idrains flying across the glade.
After a while, Eliesmore dropped out of the dance because he was not used to such rigorous activity. Out of breath and enticed by all t
he magnificent sights, he stumbled over to a tree and collapsed beneath its broad boughs. The tree swayed with the music. When he looked up, Eliesmore could see Idrains and small woodland animals dancing together on its branches. Musicians sat tucked into corners of tree branches, plucking breathtaking melodies out of stringed instruments. Eliesmore could not get enough. Vibrant colors continued to whirl around the fire: bright blues, deep purples, and bold reds. Eliesmore felt like he was in a dream. How could this possibly be real?
Hours passed as the dancing continued. Creatures twirled by, some stopping to hand him round nuts, plump berries, bitter cheeses, and more of the magical elixir. Slowly and surely, the dancers grew less energized, and animals started fading and dragging their weary bodies home. The music softened as instruments dropped out a few at a time. Now there was no more singing, and the birds took flight. Little by little, the creatures of the wood snuck away, heading towards mysterious places in the forest. Eliesmore found himself yawning and decided he should go home before dawn and before his mother found he was gone.
As he stood to leave, he paused and looked back at the glade before plunging into the forest. It all seemed like a marvelous dream. He took it all in so he could preserve the memory for as long as possible. The melody stayed in his heart as he headed home. By some instinct he knew his way, and he half-danced and half-walked, his bare feet hardly making a sound on the forest floor. He could not stop thinking of the beautiful Iaens and the talking animals. He wondered if the dance was every night and whether they would invite him again because he wished to go back.
Eliesmore and the Green Stone Page 2
