The Complete Four Worlds Series

by Angela J. Ford

  He heard soft footfalls, and a Green lady emerged. She was six and a half feet tall, at least a foot taller than him, and wore a pale green dress that folded around her body like water with each step she took. Her waist-length hair fell in soft waves and had a gold—or was it a brown—tint to it. Her ears were the size of mortal ears instead of the exceptionally large and pointed ears most Green People had. She was as beautiful as carved crystal and stared at Eliesmore out of light blue eyes with a hint of something darker hidden in them.

  Eliesmore did not know what to do. He stood up, thinking he should bow in the presence of a great Iaen, but his legs would not move again. He swallowed hard, his heart flip-flopping under her gaze. Feeling even more uncomfortable, he sputtered, “Who are you?”

  “Eliesmore, you have come,” she welcomed him. Her eyes were eager, almost as if she were about to devour him.

  “You know my name?” Eliesmore wrinkled his brow in surprise.

  “Yes.” She offered no explanation. “I am Ellagine, three-fourths Green Person, one-fourth Tider.” At Eliesmore’s vague expression she added, “I’m the great-great granddaughter of Legone the Swift.”

  “Oh.” Eliesmore suspected she wanted him to be impressed with her reference to a hero of old. However, the relationship was too far removed to be of much value. “I am Eliesmore, half Cron, half Tider. Why have you called me here?”

  “It is time you know.” Ellagine motioned for him to sit as she knelt beside the stream that lay between them.

  “Know what exactly?” Eliesmore sat down again. “I know about the White Steeds and Black Steeds. What more is there?”

  “There is much for you to learn about who you are." Ellagine gave him a kind smile, and her eyes were patient.

  Eliesmore opened his mouth to argue with her. As beautiful and wild as she was, she seemed to know entirely too much about him. Hints of a smile touched her lips as she shook her head, and, given over to her beauty, he decided to listen.

  “Eliesmore, I have much to tell you. I am not sure what tales your mother shared, although surely you are familiar with the legendary deeds of the Five Warriors?”

  Eliesmore nodded, thinking he'd been quick to judge her. He should listen to her words; after all, she was a descendant of a hero of old. Legendary blood ran through her. “Of course, I could repeat those tales back to you of how they destroyed the Ruler and his transformed creatures.”

  “Yes,” Ellagine’s voice dropped, and she leaned forward. “They thought they killed the Ruler. However, they only destroyed his physical form and wounded his spirit. The Ruler is a Changer, and he is still very much alive.”

  Eliesmore recoiled as if someone had struck him. The word, Changer, had no meaning for him. All the same, he was hit with a cold fear. “What is a Changer?”

  Ellagine leaned forward, as if confiding in him. “At the beginning of time, the Creator--a great, all-powerful being--gave life to the Four Worlds. At that time, the Four Worlds were large islands, slowly drifting apart from each other. The South World was the largest; however, as it was being designed, the Creator was distracted. Something caught his attention and turned him away, and as he did so, the last sparks of creation fell, and the Changers came into being. You see, when one holds power, one must be attentive and careful because power is dangerous, mischievous, and always seeks to corrupt. Because the Creator was not paying attention, his creative sparks became a curse and damaged the purity of creation.”

  Eliesmore pulled away in distaste, scowling. “What caused the Creator to become distracted?”

  Ellagine opened her mouth and closed it in surprise at the unexpected question. “Only the Creator truly knows. Some say his assistant did something terrible to ruin his work, and he was too late to stop her. In fact, many records credit her with the creation of the Changers because they are bent on the destruction of all.”

  Eliesmore frowned. “What does this have to do with me?”

  “If you will listen, I will explain.” Ellagine held up a hand to pause his questions. “After the Changers had come into being, creation was completed, and the Four Worlds flourished. However, after a time, the Changers arose out of the underworld or the marshes, we now call them Marshswamps. When they came to the surface of the world, they began to realize who they were and what kind of power they held over the people groups and immortals. You see, your people, the mortals, live a normal lifespan, a couple of hundred years at most, but on average, a hundred years. My people, the immortals, live on until we feel our time is at an end. You see, we have a choice. Of course, both mortals and immortals can be killed. However, it is different with Changers.”

  “But all things die,” Eliesmore interrupted, not pleased with her direct comparison of “his” people versus “her” people. “How can a Changer live forever? After all, the Five Warriors killed the Ruler!”

  “Did they?” Ellagine avoided his eyes for a moment, and he saw something dark flicker behind them. “The Five Warriors destroyed the Ruler’s physical form and trapped his spirit. He escaped into the waters of Oceantic and was borne here to the South World. It is here where he was reunited with the other two Changers.”

  “Wait, there’s more than one?” Eliesmore exclaimed in fright. He was beginning to feel angry with Ellagine.

  Ellagine held up three fingers. “There are three, here, in the South World. Their assumed goal is to rid the Four Worlds of mortals so they can rule them.”

  “Why?” Eliesmore found himself standing with his fists clenched. “What have we ever done to deserve this?”

  Ellagine folded her hands in her lap in resignation. “Eliesmore, it’s not who deserves what. The Changers found death eludes them. They have walked this world for hundreds of years, collecting knowledge and power. There is something else they need, something else is hidden in Rededak.”

  Eliesmore could feel the bile rising in his throat. “What is Rededak?” he whispered.

  “Rededak is the name for a place beyond the underworld, a prison of a sort. It is said the Creator, the King of the Land, trapped the mischief his assistant, the Queen of the Land, created there.”

  “Is it something worse than the Changers?”

  “Perhaps,” Ellagine brushed his question away. “But the Changers have discovered how to create Monrages. The rise of Magdela the Monrage was only the beginning of the Changers achieving their goal because if they gain enough power, they can access Rededak and release the beast.”

  Eliesmore bit his lip as he sat back down, holding up a finger. “What do you mean by gain enough power? You mean convert enough people to become Black Steeds?”

  Ellagine shook her head. “No, I should have been clear. The Changers have been roaming this world for hundreds of years, collecting knowledge and power. Power can be passed from one to another. Remember in tales of old how the Ruler lived among the Green People until he was banished? It’s because he was there to collect power.”

  “Collect power?” Eliesmore plucked up grass and tossed it in the air. “Just as easily as I would pick food from a garden?”

  A hint of amusement touched Ellagine’s stoic face. “No.” She held out her hands. “There is a sacred ritual known to my people, the Iaen, called the Klieng. We use it to take power from an immortal when they have abused it. The Changers likely use the same kind of ritual, which is why they are searching for and capturing powerful mortals and immortals alike. They are keen to the scent of power. I believe they will send more like Magdela the Monrage to search out and destroy the most powerful White Steeds. This is why the prophecy ‘Song’ must be fulfilled. It seems, even in our darkest hour, the King of the Land still offers us a way out. The time is overripe for the White Steeds to rise up, take back the South World, and demolish, once and for all, the dark powers of the Changers and the Black Steeds.”

  Eliesmore paused as her words blurred together. He was frightened and angry. She had brought him to a place where he experienced the best nights of his life and ruined those
fond memories with her dark stories. He could sense resentment building. Yet one word she had spoken resonated with him. He had heard it before in a sort of déjà vu or perhaps in a past life. A hidden memory tugged at him. “What is ‘Song’?”

  “You haven’t heard ‘Song’,” Ellagine said, more as a statement than a question.

  “No. I see there is a lot my mother did not tell me. She was trying to protect me, I assume from the White Steeds and Black Steeds. We even moved when I was young because I went to see the Jaded Sea.” He was rambling. Why was he rambling? “I had to persuade her to let me come today…” he trailed off as Ellagine put a finger to her lips.

  As she gazed into his eyes, Eliesmore realized he had seen them before in the crystallized stream. Had she spoken of his future? She spoke in a sing-song voice, and all of the wood was silent.

  “When the terrorizer of the Black Steeds and White Steeds,

  Magdela the Monrage, has gone and been killed,

  When everyone has gone and hidden in the land down South,

  Up there will rise, Finder of the Jeweled Sword,

  Conqueror of Evil.

  He will come when he is young.

  He will wield the Jeweled Sword.

  He will dissolve the Green Stone.

  Where he goes, the people will no longer live in hiding.

  They will come out and rejoice.

  For evil has receded, but not completely destroyed until the end of Time.”

  - “Song” - as told by Paleidir Lady of the Green People.

  Daughter of King Islider, King of the Green People.

  Wife of Legone the Swift.

  “Eliesmore,” she spoke earnestly, leaning towards him as her last words dropped like stones. “You are the One.”

  “Me?” Eliesmore exclaimed, leaping up. It was the last thing he ever expected her to say, and it quite took his breath away as he began to tremble. The events of the day were turning out to be too much for him.

  “Eliesmore,” Ellagine repeated his name for the fifth time. “Please, sit. I have not finished with what I have to tell you.”

  Shaking in shock, Eliesmore resumed his position and tried to listen to Ellagine while thoughts whirled through his head.

  “Every victory and every step we take in pushing back the Black Steeds and defeating their evil will transfer power from the Black Steeds to the White Steeds. One day the balance will be restored, and the White Steeds will hold enough power to overthrow the Black Steeds. However, there is need of One now because if we do not push back the Black Steeds, there will be no White Steeds left and the Changers will win. This is why you are here. All living creatures are either Black Steeds or White Steeds. You must trust no one lest you fall into traps. Black Steeds are everywhere, even within the borders of Shimla. Our shield of protection is failing, even as we speak. The Iaen are no longer strong enough to keep them out. The Black Steeds have two fortresses here in the Eastern Hill Country. One is in Daygone, and the other is in the Torsilo Quarts. Our fortress, the fortress of the White Steeds, is on the far side of Sanga San, although our numbers have greatly diminished. This is just another example of how powerful the Black Steeds have become.”

  Ellagine paused for a moment, considering. Eliesmore barely paid attention. He wanted a future with excitement and adventure, but he did not want to go out and fight the Black Steeds. The very idea of the Changers with their army of Black Steeds and Monrages made him shudder. How was he supposed to be the One and lead a great revolt against undying Changers? Had his mother known about this his entire life? Was that why she acted the way she did? He recalled her parting words and with a jolt realized she had known he was the One. She was trying to protect him from the burden “Song” placed on his shoulders. Even so, at the age of five, he had discovered the Jeweled Sword.

  “What is the Green Stone?” Eliesmore blurted out, not following Ellagine’s tale any longer.

  “Optimistic has it,” she replied absently.

  Eliesmore was just as confused by her answer. She seemed lost in deliberation. He had been oblivious to being the One, yet events fell into place. Maybe the Iaens had known all along and for that reason welcomed him in their midst. Eliesmore did not want to be the One. It was true: he wished for peace in the world, except he wanted to live his own life. He wanted to explore good and evil for himself and see if Ellagine was telling him the truth and not only trying to persuade him with horror stories. He did not want to be a leader. Besides, he was too young and inexperienced. The words of “Song” came drifting back into his head: “he will come when he is young.” Eliesmore sighed and looked up to tell Ellagine, who had crossed the stream and now knelt by his side. “Look into the water.” She waved her hand, palm down, over the water.

  A map of the South World appeared in the crystal stream. Eliesmore saw Shimla, where they were, and the Land of Lock, Locherenixzes. He looked, and he saw the Torsilo Quarts and Daygone.

  Ellagine pointed. “See Truemonix.” It lay to the west of them, close to the Jaded Sea.

  Eliesmore pulled away; he would not get forced into this. “I don’t want to be the One,” he announced.

  The map disappeared, but Ellagine hardly looked surprised. “Nobody wants to be the One. Eliesmore, consider the Heroes of Old. Do you think the Five Warriors wanted to go to the Great Water Hole? Do you think Pharengon of the Jeweled Sword and his Companions wanted to go to the North Forests and meet the great dranagin? No, it was their duty, and it was what they did. This is what you are going to do.”

  Eliesmore stood up, and Ellagine quickly rose beside him, her height making him feel small. He was not about to be bullied into doing something he did not want to do, and he felt like making himself clear. He started walking backward, making his voice stern. “I not only don’t want to do this. I will not!”

  Eliesmore spun around and ran. He felt Ellagine come up behind him and roughly snatch something. He did not stop. He quickened his pace without looking back.

  11

  Eliesmore

  Eliesmore fled through the forests of Shimla as if the creatures of the wood were on his heels. He knew he'd reacted badly, making enemies out of the Iaen, but this was his life. He was entitled to adventure. He deserved to live life the way he wanted, not according to dark stories of immortals and power struggles. The tales of Heroes of Old were entertaining to hear. However, he did not envy their lives or desire their fate.

  It was a while before he was out of breath and slowed down to a walk. The forest was hushed in emerald waves of silence. The call of the Iaen was gone. Nothing was chasing him. With a sigh of relief, Eliesmore wandered into regions of Shimla he’d never seen, although the forest seemed to open a path before him. As he traveled, Eliesmore recognized the gravity of what he had done and began to consider what he should do. Going back home was out of the question because his mother might never let him leave again. He was departing Shimla, heading in the direction of three countries: Truemonix, Torsilo Quarts, and Daygone. He certainly did not want to end up in Daygone, the evil place of the Black Steeds. He might never get away if he went there. Ellagine was about to tell him something about Truemonix; she might be going there herself. It would not do for him to run into her there. All that was left was the Torsilo Quarts, although he would be wise to stay away from the fortress. There were other cities on the map, but Eliesmore did not know what direction they lay in. After making up his mind, he continued his stubborn march through the forest.

  Presently, visions of food consumed his thoughts, and his stomach rumbled. He knew how to forage for food in the wild, but it was only March, too early for new growth. Besides, if there had been food, Eliesmore would not have known whether or not to eat it. There was so much going on between the White Steeds and Black Steeds; there might be poison in the plants. After a while, the light of day faded from the woods, and a thick darkness curled its way through the trees. This time, there were no friendly lights to guide his way. Tired from his journey and hungry fr
om lack of food, Eliesmore huddled beneath a tree, using the undergrowth to hide his presence. He curled up and went to sleep. He was sure he would find the fulfillment he sought when he woke.

  In the morning, Eliesmore woke up disoriented. His back hurt from sleeping on the ground, and there was a crick in his neck. He sat up reluctantly as the tall trees rose, frowning, above him and the homely smell of the woods surrounded him. A brisk wind drifted past, and his stomach growled. He yawned and stretched. His tongue felt thick in his mouth from thirst. He stood, listening hard for the sound of water. The lack of nourishment made him grumpy. He had forgotten the necessities required for being on his own. He had no plans and no purpose. Being out on his own was not as rewarding as he’d anticipated. He thought of going home, but he was not one to give up. Besides, it seemed as if the trees had closed the path to him; there was no way back, only forward.

  By midmorning, Eliesmore came upon a creek. Its mossy bed rose high as it flowed over smooth, gray stones. In one fluid motion, Eliesmore knelt, cupping his hands and lapping up the cool, refreshing water. In his haste, water dripped down his chin and splashed across the front of his tunic. It was a few minutes before he paused to take in his surroundings; as he did, a splash made him jump. His eyes narrowed, and he backed away from the stream, unnerved by the silence of the forest. He was used to it being full of life and happiness; now a mere sound made him cautious. The splash came again, and he saw a white mink in the stream, leaping as it caught a fish and swam on by. Startled by its color, Eliesmore looked down at his clothes, remembering what the Iaen had told him of the White Steeds and Black Steeds. His clothes seemed drab and gray in the light of the forest, and Eliesmore felt his pulse quicken. He was sure the day before they had been lighter. He wanted to blame it on his night in the forest, yet his mind was already starting a war within him.