by Rex Hazelton
The elves went wild with emotion when they heard the king's words. Accompanied by joyful music, they wound their way forward to the dais where they threw their garlands at Jeaf's feet and lifted their voices and said, “Brosantaney, the Hammer King!”
Soon, a large mound of colorful garlands lay heaped up around the young Woodswane's feet.
After the elves returned to their seats and the music died down, Ramskynd and Alegramor took off their garlands of light. Tossing them on top of the mound, they said in unison, “Let the Feast of Brosantaney begin!”
In a wink of an eye, scores of elves began to bring in platters of steaming meat and breads along with vegetables of all sorts. Barrels of beer and wine followed. All the while, the conversation in the room sounded like a host of lively, babbling brooks.
In short order, beautiful elf-maidens gathered around, feeding Jeaf paper thin bread rolled up like a scroll whose properties infused the young Woodswane with Mystlkynd's magic. Tasting like wild berries mixed with mints, it smelled of pine and earth. Hot as it settled in the stomach, it soon cooled to produce a warm feeling that reminded him of a sun-drenched forest glade. Next, crimson wine was provided to wash down the fare. Noticing he was the only one who was given this particular food, Jeaf looked over at Alynd with a puzzled expression on his face. A knowing smile, like the minstrel new a secret the Woodswane would enjoy if it was told to him, greeted him.
After the meal was finished, a dessert made of fruit, sweet cream, and chocolate was brought to the tables while the smoke rising from hundreds of pipes filled the air with the aroma of peppermint and strawberries. Simultaneously, a dozen musicians began circulating throughout the great hall singing a song of passionate love.
A man clothed in the sun came courting the daughter of the moon.
The silver-laughtered woman loved the man who made her swoon.
So, they ran through Forest Deep and tried to catch the stars,
Until children of the sun struck the man, covering him with scars.
Filled with jealousy and hatred, they scorned the daughter of the moon.
And tore their brother's shining garments off, leaving them in ruins.
Then the moon came dancing through the trees and covered his loneliness,
With garments made of moonbeams and a garland made of bliss,
Strengthened by the moon's sweet light, the man journeyed to his home,
And took back the bright sunlight that had once been his alone.
The melancholy moon wept as she wandered through Forest Deep,
Until the night the wildwood glowed and the man was hers to keep.
For love had returned like the sun chasing dreaded darkness away,
And took the moon to its bosom, vowing not to leave forever and a day.
So, the moon went walking with the sun in the rebirth of the warl.
Then Mystlkynd's watchmen asked a question to sooth their aching sorrow,
'What is this that comes our way, like an army marching in proud array?'
Morning and night have exchanged vows and bow their heads to pray,
That their marriage would be consummated in the greenwood of their life,
And bring forth joy through fruitfulness that comes from man and wife.
Moved by the song, Jeaf turned to Queen Alegramor and asked her what it meant.
Smiling, she said, “Maybe you should ask Mystlnor, for it is a song about his parents and the hardships they overcame to be with one another.”
Noticing Alynd was busy talking to Ramskynd, Jeaf turned back to the elf-queen and implore, “Please, can you tell me?”
“All right, Brosantaney,” Alegramor agreed, her graceful hand adjusted her festive gown as she spoke. “In the days immediately following the Breach, Constodyne ruled a kingdom that lay on the banks of the Black River in an area now known as the Wilderness. He had only one child, a son named Melechrom who was as fair in temperament as he was in appearance.”
Once he reached manhood, the prince began taking hunting trips in the woods bordering Forest Deep. On one of these outings, Chrystillan, an elf-maiden, began spying on him and his companions. It was great fun.”
Then unexpectedly, she found herself becoming more than fascinated with this handsome human. So one moonlit night, when Melechrom went off by himself for a walk in the greenwood, Chrystillan couldn't help but show herself. Delighted by the lovely elf-maiden's companionship, the prince continued taking his nightly forays, but he didn't tell his men where he went or who he met.”
Soon, their hearts were drawn to each other. Captivated by the elf-maiden's goodness and beauty, the young man pledged his eternal love and asked for her hand in marriage. After she gladly consented, Melechrom, overjoyed with his good fortune, brought her to meet his men. But to his dismay, they became incensed at the idea of an elf-maiden winning the king's son's heart. In anger, they rose up and drove Chrystillan off into the night, threatening to kill her.”
Then, after binding Melechrom to protect him from the spell they thought the elf-maiden had cast over him, the men drug him off to his father.”
Constodyne, concurring with those who thought his son had fallen under the influence of dark elvish magic, imprisoned his son until the suspected witchery could work its way out of his system. As an added precaution, the king sent an army into Forest Deep to capture Chrystillan and force her to retract the spell she had cast over his son. The soldiers were dispatched with orders to kill all the elves they might encounter.”
With a mischievous light shining in her green eyes, the queen added, “Need I say that all their efforts proved fruitless? After many frustrating weeks of pursuing what they had come to believe were evil spirits, and after the disappearance of more than a fifth of their force, they returned to Constodyne empty-handed.”
Hearing what had happened, Melechrom feigned his devotion for Chrystillan had abated due to the horrific loses his father's soldiers had sustained in Forest Deep. After many weeks of professing this, Constodyne came to believe his son's change of heart was real. So, he let him out of prison, but still had him followed.”
Eventually, Melechrom regained all his former freedom and privileges, after convincing his father he was free of Chrystillan's spell. But on a cold moonless night, he saddled the fastest horse in his father's realm and dashed off to Forest Deep where he found his love laying in repose upon the cool grasses covering the Glen of Heart's Desire. It was there, under a canopy of living stars, that they betrothed themselves to one another.”
With fear preventing Constodyne from pursuing his son into Forest Deep, he, instead, held a funeral, pretending Melechrom had died. Tragically, the charade conjured up an insuperable evil that entered the king's heart through bitterness' doorway. So great was this evil that, in time, it swept out of Constodyne and over all the lords and ladies of the realm, growing in power until it plunged the entire kingdom into an age of darkness from which it has never recovered. The Wild Men that live in the Wilderness are the descendants and last remnants of this once noble people. Constodyne's ruined castle can still be seen today, if one cared to challenge the Wilderness' treachery and the evil spirits that some say haunt the place.”
“I've heard of the Wild Men.” Jeaf looked uncertain whether he should interrupt the queen, or not. Still he couldn't help but report, “My father fought them in the Wilderness War.” Alegramor sighed knowing that it must be troubling the young Woodswane to think Aryl fought those who were related to Alynd. After shaking her head over the irony of life, she added, “While Constodyne and his kingdom deteriorated, Melechrom and Chrystillan grew in fame among the elves of Mystlkynd. As their renown increased, people began having dreams about a child that they would bare who would bridge the chasm separating elves from mankind.”
“On the day Mystlnor was born, these utterances were buttressed by a great event that caught the attention of elf and human alike. A light looking like a burning torch appeared in the night skies and remained there until My
stlnor's first birthday. All believed that this was a sign attesting to the prophecy's truthfulness.”
When Mystlnor was full grown, he began traveling throughout the land, living the life of a bard. Filled with wisdom, the songs that he sang won the favor of all who heard him. Numbered among his admirers were the kings, who came to value his presence more than many other delights. His counsel continues to be prized by their children, even until this very day.”
Alegramor, speaking more like a teacher than a queen, continued. “As the Elf-Man, the Warl's Magic permits him to go where no other of our kind can go and do what no other elf can do, for we are hindered from intervening in human affairs.”
“How so?” Jeaf inquired. After feeling Mystlkynd's' magic, he didn't think anything could restrain its power.
“Because we refused to take sides in Ab'Don's war of conquest, the Sorcerer was able to weave a spell that would forever keep us imprisoned by our own reticence, relegating us to live between the lines of history's unfolding story, keeping us from assuming a role that would affect mankind's fate, that is, until the chasm separating elves from humans is bridged. And Mystlnor, he who is both man and elf, will do this. So, say the prophecies”
“Your Highness, how will he do this?” Jeaf inquired.
“By helping the Prophetess learn the Song of Breaking whose magic will undo Ab'Don's spell. Once this is done, the veil that keeps mankind from seeing the elves for who we really are will be lifted and the fear and suspicion they feel towards us will vanish. Then, and only then, will we be freed to move among men as we once did.”
The wonder of all that the queen had told the young Woodswane spurred him on to ask another question. “How old is Mystlnor?” Alegramor laughed before answering. “He is nearly as old as Nyeg Warl itself!”
“We elves live much longer than men do, but Mystlnor's life span has already exceeded two of our generations. We believe that as long as he lives, the magic needed to bridge the chasm that divides elves from men will remain. He will surely live until then and how much longer… no one knows.”
He is the signet ring, a guarantee that men and elves will one day be joined in friendship even as Melechrom was joined to Chrystillan. As an elf, he's gifted with our magic and much more. As a man, he has authority to dispel the evil that separates our peoples. He is a bridge and a bridgebuilder.”
Looking intently into Jeaf's face, the elf-queen added, “You, as a Fane J'Shrym and the Hammer Bearer are also a bridge and a bridgebuilder. Whether you know it or not, you have come to make the two one, to remove the offense, and to heal the Breach. Brosantaney, you and Mystlnor are of the same ilk and have the same destiny. You are the gatekeepers who will usher in Parm Warl.”
Overwhelmed by Alegramor's words, Jeaf frowned. “I don't doubt that this is true of Mystlnor, but I'm not certain your confidence in me is justified. I am but a young man who is not yet worthy to wear my father's boots, let alone to usher in Parm Warl.”
“Young? Yes!” the elf-queen replied. “But you are by no means untried. You are further along in your schooling than you think and will learn what you need to know more quickly than you can imagine.”
Reaching out and touching Jeaf, Alegramor admonished the young Woodswane. “Don't despise your age. You have come into this season early in life because you need much time to do all that you have been destined to do.”
“If this is true, as you say, may I ask you for a blessing?” The young Woodswane bowed his head as he spoke. “Bless me, so that I may have courage and wisdom to be all you think I will be and to do all you think I will do.”
Queen Alegramor's eyes flashed green as she stood in response to Jeaf's request. Then lifting her arms, she quieted the crowd. The others sitting on the dais followed her cue and stood to their feet, signaling the celebrants to follow suit. Taking Jeaf by the hand, the elf-queen led him to the mound of garlands that had been deposited on the dais in his honor. After placing him in their midst, Alegramor placed the palms of her hands on Jeaf's head. Realizing what was about to happen, the rest of the elves aimed their hands towards the young Woodswane. Mystlnor and the others on the dais encircled the garlands and the couple who stood within.
Once all were in place, the queen began. “May the departed elf-lords that once lived in Mystlkynd cause the warl's blood to flow through the Hammer Bearer's veins and up into his heart.”
As the queen invoked this blessing, the young Woodswane felt a surge of power moving up through the soles of his feet and into his body, making him feel suddenly lightheaded, so much so, that he thought he could lose his balance and fall. Hearing the Song of the Hammer Bearer being sung by some in the crowd, his head jerked involuntarily backwards. In time, more of the elves joined in singing.
When the Hammer is found,
The eagle will soar, the lion roar,
And the grapes will grow on the vine.
When the Hammer sounds,
The breach will mend, the darkness bend,
And the children will run to the sign.
When the Hammer rings,
Wounds will heal, love will seal
The hearts of those who are free.
When the Hammer sings,
The predator will die, so will the lie
And the power of darkness will flee.
Magic, pulsing through Jeaf's being, jolted his body with the arrival of each new wave, over-and-over again, until the surging force eventually took its toll, depleting the young Woodswane's physical resources. The relentless assault was fatiguing, making him wish that Alegramor would remove her hands from off his head.
If their blessing is so devastating, what would their curse be like!? Feeling like a punch-drunk boxer, Jeaf looked out into the hall that had become much brighter than he remembered it being. The elves, now transformed into figures of resplendent light, were responsible for this change.
Then- in a field of ambient light resting atop the brilliant throng- a scene appeared where a young man and elf-maiden gazed lovingly on a child that must have been their's. When the infant's eyes flashed blue light, Jeaf guessed that it was Alynd he was looking at. And these must be his parents, Melechrom and Chrystillan, he thought.
Then the scene changed. This time Alynd, now grown, stood in a cavern filled with an orange glow not unlike the kind cast by a furnace. But this was no pleasant revelation, for the Elf-Man was surrounded by slobbering hunchman who flew at him like a pack of ravenous dogs.
Just as Alynd's long leaf-knife went to work, another scene arrived. This time Jeaf saw a man being consumed by blue flames with the Hammer of Power held in his hand. As the man's body was reduced to ashes, the blue flame changed and became a battlefield filled with warring armies. In the middle of the mayhem, an explosion threw a fireball- choked with dirt, stone, and hundreds of dead warriors- far into the sky. The Elf-Man's form could be seen slumping on the edge of a crater the eruption had left behind; tears were running down his cheeks; his eyes, still blue, were dulled with pain, a pain that Jeaf could feel tearing at his insides.
Then, when the Woodswane was sure that he could take no more, the light emanating from the elves receded until they again appeared as they once had, and the visions went with the light. The startling metamorphosis coincided with the ending of the song. The magic that had visited Jeaf waned as well, leaving him enveloped in the warm remnants of its fading power. In due course, his physical strength returned and Alegramor withdrew her hands.
Basking in the afterglow of the queen's blessing, the rest of the evening was spent in listening to songs that rehearsed Mystlkynd's long history. Left with a deeper sense of peace than any he had ever known, Jeaf watched the elves interact with one another, joyfully. Though a stranger to this place, he felt more at home here than he had expected to, and, if given the opportunity, he believed he'd choose to never leave. Tilting his head skyward to take in the beauty of the heavens above, the young Woodswane questioned whether Parm Warl could be any better than this.
; ****
Following the feast, Jeaf spent many days in Mystlkynd getting to know Alegramor, Ramskynd, and the other elves. He also learned how to handle the light elf-bows and shoot the thread-arrows that sparkled like colorful embers as they flew towards their targets. Elf-children delighted in showing the young Woodswane the secrets of Forest Deep. Through all this, Jeaf realized the elves were methodically putting him through a schooling that trained him in their ways, legends and magic. He knew they were giving him an inestimable treasure and he tried to express his gratitude as often as he could.
Jeaf had been accepted by the elves as one of their own. Alegramor's blessing had made him a spirit-brother, and, indeed, he felt there was something different about himself. Something had changed on the night of the feast, something that affected the core of his being. He even noticed his footfalls made less noise as he walked upon the city's bridges. Traveling with the elf-children through Forest Deep, he found that his ability to hear, see and smell had been magnified.
One day, Jeaf and Alynd passed out of Mystlkynd on one of their frequent walks. The elves waved warmly as they passed into Forest Deep. Many of these woodland-folk were paired as husband and wife or courting couples. Children could be seen playing hide-and-seek, a game that helped develop their forestal skills. Jeaf heard the laughter of those who were hiding nearby. Smiling faces, peering out from behind fern and bush, watched them move deeper into the woods.
Eventually, the two men had traveled beyond the parameters of where the elves' normal routines took them. At this point, Alynd turned onto a barely visible trail cutting through the thick undergrowth. The Elf-Man, his blue eyes glowing beneath his wide-brimmed hat, beckoned Jeaf to follow him with a nod of his head. In due time, the path joined a large stream of water. Moving against the current, they walked along its bank until it ran into the base of a stony cliff. Here, the trail wound its way up through hard shale rock. A waterfall, adorned with a brilliant rainbow, arching through the cloud of vapor that enveloped the cascading water, plummeted past them. In time, the path led the two men through the heavy mists clinging to the edge of the waterfall, behind the plummeting cataract, and into a large round room hidden there. The flickering sunlight, cutting its way through the curtain of water, revealed twelve pillars of stone that stood like sentinels encircling the chamber. Strange symbols were etched on the monoliths' surface.
