As he spoke his last words, he faded away, the dark sky brightened again, and she found she was standing on the trail facing a tree. She looked around and shook her head.
“Now this old woman has resorted to talking to trees,” she said blankly as she wiped her tears. Slowly she began to remember a little more of the details. It was still foggy, but she remembered when Jaerick was still a prince, his father, King Keiyann Krowe had told her that her father would return someday.
The only thing she felt she could do now was continue back home. She had not walked too far when Traegon appeared from behind her, out of breath as he had been running to find her.
“Great Mother!” he gasped. “How did you get so far so fast?”
“I don’t know dear boy. I just walked. Did you see the peculiar sky just now?”
“No, what did you see? There isn’t a cloud in the sky.”
“Oh, never mind, don’t listen to me, I’m just an old woman rambling on,” she said.
Chapter 2
The dark leaf-colored curtains of the elven king’s quarters rustled from the evening breeze as it blew in the crisp scent of Flamespan waning at the coming of the Doreal season. The moonlight glimmered in the room, illuminating it with a soft lustrous glow that showered the room with a silvery haze. The evening seemed peaceful enough to provide restful sleep for the king and his people, but instead, the king tossed in his sleep, dreaming dreams of terror and tension that worried the high elven king of Wrae Kronn.
King Jaerick Krowe endured his fitful slumber. He groaned and cursed leaving his sheets wet with sweat with every toss and turn. Uncomfortable and anxious, he awoke with a start for at least the tenth time, and sat up in his bed. He looked around the room and gathered his bearings. Shaking his head, he looked at the door and saw that it was closed, as it should be. He ran his fingers through his long blond hair, and in a frustrated grunt clenched his fists, grabbing a handful of hair. He yanked at his hair as though he were attempting to remove the visions his dark dreams had left him. He flopped backwards onto his pillows. He cursed incoherently again. Feverish, he pulled the heavy cover off his bed, then grabbed the thin sheet, pulled it over his head and turned over with a grunt.
Even in his frustration, he was still able to fall back to sleep within minutes. But as he feared, his dreams did not end, promising only to continue their horrible cycle.
It was all so clear. He stood on a northern hill overlooking an intense one-sided battle, a battle he knew he would not win: a battle so fierce, that as the leader of the whole elven people, he could not bear to witness: A battle so violent that total annihilation was the only possible outcome. Surrender was not an option, nor was retreat possible.
To the South, the rival commanders stood on the opposite hill watching the battle below them. Jaerick had foolishly committed his whole elven battalion into a choke point, trapping them in a deep ravine where they were surrounded by steep rocky hills on all sides. Human archers stood on top of the hills mercilessly picking off the elves one by one. They showed no mercy in shooting the arrows into the ravine, peppering them as if they were dogs in a pit. The human commanders stood atop the hill laughing, and barking orders to hurry, and kill them faster.
King Jaerick watched in horror as his son scrambled, attempting in vain to give the orders that would save the lives of his fellow elves. The prince, in all his bravery and honor, circled his warriors on his horse giving shouts of courage and direction. In a final act of desperation, he tried to lead a charge up the steep ravine toward the humans. The ravine was too steep for he and the dozen other brave warriors that followed, and in doing so took two arrows in the rib cage. He arched backwards and fell off the back of his horse, landing on his head and left shoulder, knocking him unconscious and leaving him seriously wounded. His subordinates scrambled to take him to a safer position.
The human commanders raised their arms and cheered in exhilaration over wounding the great king’s son. As they cheered, a dark cloaked figure appeared from the shadows, and went directly to the human commander and whispered into his ear. The other commanders then surrounded the hooded figure and conferred in secret for a while. They talked and plotted for many minutes until the dark figure stepped away and pulled his hood back.
Jaerick watched in terror as he realized that the cloaked figure looked like him, except that this Jaerick had no eyes on his face. He knew that the other dark, hooded version of himself could not be witnessing the battle the way it was actually happening. He was plotting his own destruction, but could not see it as it happened.
The dark Jaerick now turned behind him and grabbed the hands of a person that had just come into view. The person walked forward, and even from this distance, he could tell it was Traelyn. He was amazed at how young and lovely she looked. She was as beautiful as the day when he first met her. He had not seen her in years, and had long since totally forgotten her, yet in the moment he remembered her as if he had just seen her yesterday.
She was the love of his youth, so long ago, but somehow, he had forgotten her completely. How was this so? He wondered as he dreamt. How could he forget her? She was so beautiful, how could he forget such beauty? He watched her from the distance, longing for her, fires rekindled. He wanted to hold her again so badly, and even as he watched the demise of his son, nothing else mattered. Memories flooded his mind, soul, and being. He watched her intently and barely noticed her smiling grimly as with one arm she cradled a baby to her side. They made eye contact, but instead of feeling the shared love they once had, he saw that she was full of rage and hate: So much rage that she seemed happy to see the death at her feet.
Then he saw in her possession something he had not seen in years. She held the Quarterstar Talisman, with the Val-Eahea Quarterstar Shard firmly clasped in the center as she dangled it above the baby’s head. This should not be, he thought. It cannot be; the talisman and shard cannot be joined. The last time they were joined was before his father’s time. Their god Val Eahea had forbade the shard to be united with the talisman out of fear that someday all four shards might be united into a single talisman. The Val Eahean Shard currently resided in the guarded Wayerman Crags, and the Quarterstar Talisman, an elven family heirloom, was locked in the vault in the deepest portion of the castle.
Jaerick awoke again. “Naemyn!” he shouted, sitting up in a start. “Naemyn! It is gone! Where is Naemyn! I need Naemyn now!”
The guards entered the room to console their king. Only this time he demanded his spiritual advisor. “We will get him; he will be here shortly my king,” they reassured him.
Chapter 3
South of the Elven Kingdom, nestled at the base of the Dragon Cross Mountains, rested the human fortress of Dokbar. Overshadowed by the rocky, forested mountains, a fortress made of blackened stone and wood from the massive redwood trees nestled tightly in a small valley below, protected from any elven attacks. Traelyn slept heavily after her long walk back home, and on this quiet night, only the human guards at their posts were awake to feel the evening late-Flamespan-turning-to-Doreal breeze that meandered between the towering pine and redwood trees.
The moon lifted shadows over the fortress and into the private room where Traelyn slept. Her aged and brittle body ached as she tossed and turned feeling every square inch of her body. She woke many times only to fall asleep and dream the same dream over again.
She was young again. It was of a time long ago, before she was given the elven root of life to sustain her health, and to help her live as long as she has. She had lived over three hundred years: three hundred years of slow aging and brutal waiting. In the dream, she was saying goodbye to her love, Prince Jaerick. Traelyn felt confused, the memories rushing back. The dream was almost exactly as it had happened, so long ago.
They stood on a sma
ll footbridge that spanned a small babbling brook, and Jaerick held her tight as she cried on his shoulder. He was shaking as he told her that he loved her, and that was why she had to go. He assured her that he would return for her soon. Still, she did not want to let go. She was willing to hang onto him indefinitely, and listen to his heartbeat for all of time. She did not want to leave. Left all alone in a world in which she had no stake. She needed him, and she loved him. She would not, could not leave him; it hurt too badly to even think about leaving, much less to be forced to do so against her will.
She would have stayed with him holding him in the pre-dawn morning. They were quiet for many minutes until she heard someone approaching. Her memory told her that it was King Keiyann Krowe, but when she turned around, she saw her father instead. He approached her with his familiar, loving smile. When she saw him, she felt that everything would be all right, and her father would take her home at long last. She waved at her father and ran to him, leaving Jaerick standing at the footbridge.
She ran to her father and embraced him so tightly that she felt his heartbeat against her ear, and cried even harder, letting all the anxiety escape her. Her worries replaced with joy and happiness. Dar Drannon stroked her hair and told her everything would be all right, but he was not returning to her yet, she still had to be patient and wait for certain events to pass before he could come back.
Shocked, she released him, but instead of explaining his intentions, he left her and ran to help Jaerick who was in great trouble. She turned around and watched in horror as a cloaked figure appeared from behind Jaerick and attacked him. The attacker quickly overtook the elf and had him on his back. The cloaked entity sat on Jaerick’s chest, and began strangling him over the bridge. The prince’s neck and head hung over the edge of the bridge as the cloaked figure began to choke the life out of him, shaking the elf with a fury Traelyn had never seen before. Jaerick squirmed to save his life, his eyes bulging, and face red. Jaerick was close to losing consciousness, powerless against the brute strength of his attacker.
“No!” Traelyn screamed as she ran passed her father to save Jaerick. Just as she reached him, the ground began to shake, and the cloaked figure stopped choking Jaerick for a second to get his balance against the rumbling ground. He shifted his weight and returned to the coughing and gasping prince to finish squeezing the life out of him. Traelyn corrected her balance, but before she could reach Jaerick, the ground split and fell away from her, causing her to fall into an open crevice in the ground. Somehow, her forward momentum allowed her to grab the top of what had now become a cliff face and she hung on for her life.
Trying to pull herself up, she could hear the figure choking Jaerick, and guessed that he was only moments away from losing consciousness. Still holding on for her life, her father suddenly appeared and stared down at her and emphatically shook his head, then looked to Jaerick as he clung onto the last moments of his life. He had to make a decision. “I have to save him honey,” he said to her as his eyes began to swell and turn red. “I love you, but I have to do this.”
“But daddy, I’m slipping. I cannot hang on much longer,” Traelyn cried. “Father! Please help me, I’m slipping!” she screamed as she lost grip of one hand and hung on only by her fingertips of her other hand.
Dar Drannon left her, ran to the footbridge, grabbed the cloaked figure, and pulled him off of Jaerick. Jaerick then rolled over and grabbed at his throat, gasping for much needed air. Dar Drannon then yanked the cloaked figure up by the waist and heaved him over his shoulder like a mere straw scarecrow into the open crevice. Traelyn watched the figure fall deep into the foggy depth of the crevice. As the figure fell, tossing and squirming into the darkness, the cloak fell off its body. Traelyn saw that the cloaked figure was her. In despair and confusion, her grip gave out and she fell.
Screaming, she awoke, and once again found herself alone in her bed, again an old woman in the calm evening moonlight.
Chapter 4
King Jaerick, Naemyn, and a handful of elven soldiers sped down the spiral stone stairwell, their footsteps echoing through the dark tunnels as they raced down to the deep levels of the tower to reach the sacred vault. The tower was in the center of the elven fortress, hidden in the northern forests of Wrae-Kronn. The sacred vault held all of the precious elven artifacts, including the Quarterstar Talisman.
The Talisman was forged before the recording of time, and was made to hold all four of the shards of lore that fell from the sky at the beginning of the creation of Wrae-Kronn. The elves had only ever found one shard, the shard that landed near the catacombs, which they called the Val-Eahean Quarterstar.
It was told that the first elven king carried this talisman with the Val-Eahean Quarterstar Shard around his neck at all times, but the magic of the Shard was never mentioned in the early tales. Legends persisted through the years, that the Shard, when placed into one of the four slots on the talisman, had magical properties beyond imagination. The talisman was then given to the line of elven kings that would one day see the two rejoined.
One in the line of kings fearing its power if it fell into the wrong hands, placed the Shard back in the exact spot where it fell to the earth, deep inside the catacombs. An elf was then appointed, or more accurately, sacrificed, to live in a small room where the Shard was housed to guard it from being stolen until such time when they required them to be joined.
In return for the sacrifice, the guardian elf would protect the Shard until it was to be removed, at which time he would die, his body withering to dust. Elven prophecies told of a day when the Quarterstar Shard and talisman would be re-joined by the son of the Great Bringer of Peace whom would be born down the bloodline of the first human king. Most elves loathed the idea.
The Shard was nearly beyond reach. The Val elves had long since left the dangerous and increasingly goblin-infested forests. King Jaerick knew how important it was that the Shard remained where it was until the time to be joined with the talisman. He had faith that Val Eahea would come to him and tell him when that time would be. Maybe this dream was a sign that the time lay near, but right then, the only thing that mattered was determining whether the talisman was where it should be.
The king held a stern and worried frown as he neared the final steps to the vault. Naemyn looked worried as well, but also had a look of confidence, as it was his nature to be the solid rock companion and advisor to the king. Naemyn was the leader of the Elven Sorae, a council of Val and Sor elves that worked to keep the unity of the two races of elves as well as advising the king in spiritual, prophetic, and mystical matters.
One of King Keiyann Krowe’s final commands from his deathbed was to make Naemyn, Jaerick’s childhood friend, the leader of the Sorae to aid in his son’s rein.
The Sorae had groomed Naemyn for this position from the very beginning. Many years earlier when Naemyn came to the castle, he was put under the tutorship of the wisest of the Sorae to learn the ways of prophet and seer. The current Sorae, with the help of the spirit of their gods Val-Eahea and Raezoures, had granted Naemyn purpose.
The two elven races, though both peaceful in nature, were still historically separated and two very different races. The Val elves from the mountains in the south-eastern valley, ever the invader to the Sor, controlled the new combined race through population and position. The Sor elves, undyingly loyal to the god Raezoures, had small rebelling factions that peacefully made known they did not welcome the new race of elves. In an effort to bridge the races, the king of the Val elves formed the Sorae to help all of the Sor elves have a voice in the new elven kingdom.
The small group pressed on toward the vault. King Jaerick eyed Naemyn with a strange sense of wonder and doubt.
The Sorae consisted of all views of elven lore, prophecy, and worked to keep a balance in the elven political direction, because the
Val elves were often ambitious and needed to slow their advance. The Sorae helped guide the king to help the elven kingdom remain strong, peaceful, and prosperous, yet move slow enough to include the Sor elves in this great directive from their now common god Val Eahea.
Jaerick and Naemyn grew up as friends, as was the plan from the beginning. Someday Jaerick would become King and Naemyn would be his advisor, prophet, and next in line to lead the Sorae. This was thought to be a good plan from the beginning by both Keiyann Krowe and the Sorae, to continue the success of the elven races. Both Jaerick and Naemyn grew up knowing the prophecies of the Shard and Talisman, and of their importance.
They continued down the stairs until they reached the bottom of the tower to a circular antechamber that opened up to the vault. A single guard stood in front of a large iron door to the chamber. Jaerick paused and stared at the sentry at his post before asking, “How long have you been on guard here?”
“Two hours,” the young soldier answered.
“And how long are your shifts?”
“Three hours.”
“How many years have you been a guard of these chambers?”
“Two hundred years.”
“So you were also a guard during my father’s reign?”
“Yes, my king.”
“During your time of service, how many times has this door been opened.”
“Never, my king.”
Jaerick looked to Naemyn and said nothing. He then looked back at the elven soldier and commanded him to open the door.
The soldier went to a table on the opposite side of the hall and moved a few small stone figurine statues of ancient elven sages, which revealed a small handle imbedded into the wall, and slid it open. He grabbed a single key from the indenture, and walked back to the door and slid the key in and unlocked the door, which revealed a small, dark and nearly empty room. The smell of ancient mold carried on the stale air escaped the room as the soldier entered, went to a table near the door, and opened a box containing torch supplies. He quickly grabbed them and lit the six torches in the room.
Quarterstars Awakening Page 2
