Finding my fulcrum
If you are a writer you will understand how your characters take on a life of their own and will help direct a story. I and my characters are no different. Some may have been stubborn and unwilling to accept the direction I would give but this minor conflict would normally result in a much better story. While I would gripe, cuss, and holler, but over all the characters and I got along just fine. Their voices would flow on to the paper so they felt content and otherwise they left me to my own devices. But of late, something like six months or so, I have not written anything. No it not writers block, it just life in general and its many distractions. Since my characters have had no voice on paper they have been slowly forming a mad mob and protesting rather loudly. Since my few excuses have been largely ignored by them I must once again pick up the pen and let them be heard once more.
With these protest in mind I have debated for some time on how to approach publishing. I have come to the realization I just wish to share these stories. I have never been interested in monetary gain from this endeavor, thou I have to admit seeing my stories in hard cover would be a hugh boost to my ego. Who knows it may still happen one day but for now I plan on simply placing the stories here in my blogs.
I do hesitate slightly as I am dyslexic and I currently do not have someone to edit for the mistake I often make. I have worked hard to over come this flaw and to ensure there are few as possible errors. So please keep this in mind as you read. As always I welcome comments on the story such as flow, content, or grammar if you’re so inclined. While I do not mind harsh comments as long as they have merit and can help the story alone.
While I am horrible with blogging I do believe I can manage this if I post one chapter a week. The first book is called the ‘Gem of Souls’. I have planned 12 books for the series. The first is complete and book two and three are in progress. The stories are ADnD based and are centered on the world of Amharc.
I will provide more information on the stories tomorrow. I am posting the prolog and first chapter today. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed crafting them.
Prolog
The shadow of darkness surrounds us. We believe the light protects us, though nightmares can exist in the light.
He nearly spilled his drink as her hand crept slowly up his leg. Morad smiled as he watched the table full of fine flesh giggle and whisper to each other. He raised his tankard to hide the evil smile he could not contain. Her hand slowly crept higher up his thigh.
“Now now, there will be plenty of time for that later. For now let me watch you all dance as I get my fill of ale.” The women immediately sprang to life with shouts of laughter as they jumped up and began gyrating in ways he would have never thought possible.
“Morad”
“Morad”
He looked across the table to the unfamiliar voice. There sat a human perhaps in his late thirties dress all in white robes. Morad shift his gaze to the left as an explosion of giggles reached his ear.
“Morad”
He jerk his head back towards the strange fellow. His eyes narrowed as his smile faded. Morad took to studying the fellow again. The eyes of the man seem to draw him as they hint at the man was far older then he look. Those eyes suggest as if they may have been around to see the universe begin.
“Listen friend, I am sure I do not know you and as you can see.” Morad raised his hand in a swinging motion outwards towards the nearly naked bodies swirling around and around awaiting his approval. “I am rather busy, so perhaps we can talk later.” He turned his head and whistle to encourage them to hopefully remove the remaining bits of clothing.
“Morad”
Morad slammed his tankard down on the table.
“You really know how to kill a good time. Since you have irked me to a point as to kill the buzz the ale has labored so hard to provide me.” Morad pause for a moment. “So what is it I can do for you?”
“You must give it to me.” The tone of the man was flat while his face remain the same.
“Give you what?” The man pointed to the table just before Morad. He look down to discover a simple wood box.
“Well I don’t know where this came from but you can have it. Now, if you don’t mind, I need more ale.” Morad raised his tankard when the strange fellow became more insistent.
“You must give it to me.” Morad let the tankard settle back to the table while he lean back in his chair for a tick. Seeing this fellow was not going to let him enjoy his evening without receiving the box. He lean forward to take possession of the box when the air became heavy and the warmth left the room. It felt as if he was in a bubble that stopped time its self. As his hands grew closer the heavier the air became, the effort to reach the box became a strain. Morad stop just short of the box as he felt his very soul seem to be slipping away from him. He broke into a heavy sweat as he once again look to the strange fellow.
He took a deep breath and reached the final length to the box which pass through his grasp. Morad watch as the box winked out of existence. He felt the bubble that had stop time pop and sound and light seem to rush forward again. The robed fellow shook his head sadly.
“You must retrieve it and bring it to me.” Morad sat back with his body left weak. He look across the table at the man in white.
“Where do I find it?”
“You will find it in Twill.”
Morad twist his head as a retched cackle caught his attention. His pets were replaced wit fat and twisted flesh. The smiles that greeted him now were toothless and sour, it was enough to make his skin crawl. They danced and twisted about waving at Morad teasing him with bits of exposed flesh the rotted off the bone before him.
His eyes flew open and his breathing came fast. Morad sat up quickly and blinked several times. Camp, I’m in camp. He took quick stock as he could see the sleeping forms of his group. He slowed his breathing and eased back onto his elbows. Dam this job. Ever sense we took this job on I have been dreaming of Twill. But now it’s even invading my good dreams.
He wiped the sweat from his brow. Great it’s going to be a hot one today. He look to the night sky and could see Valus moon on the horizon though Huros moon was all ready gone from view. He looked around the camp once more. Mother won’t be up for a few still. I guess I could take a quick bath before the others awake.
He made no sound as he rose and slowly made his way down the path that lead to the spring they made camp by. He made no hurry as the sun was just starting to break over the horizon. The birds were softly chirping though the air felt heavy and sticky to his skin. There was no breeze to relieve this feeling. The path was short and he reach the bubbling spring with little effort. Morad stood and enjoyed the sound bring back memories of youth. He closed his eyes and let himself be carried away with the sounds of the stream. He stood there for a time until the hot touch of the sun on his skin reminded him why he had come. Turning west he followed it downstream a few dozen strides. He strip down then edged his foot into the water only to jerk it back.
“Dam the Uppers its ice cold. Well a quick bath it will be then.” Morad took a deep breath and stepped in to quickly submerge himself up to his neck in one fluid motion. He drew blood as he bit his lower lip to keep from yelling out at the touch of the ice cold water that rush to cool his discomfort away.
The distinct laughter of Ianna and Silvia as they came down to the stream force Morad to stop in mid-motion as he made to climb out of his ice bath. He could clearly see they were coming to draw water. Morad quickly search for more cover, but finding none better gave a heavy sigh and settled back down into the water to wait them out.
He was ten or so strides downstream from where they were drawing the water. The few tall reeds provide simple cover as long as he did not move. The two ladies reach the streams edge and seem to be in good spirits. While their tones were lite, it left Morad unable to hear what they were saying. Ianna loosely knotted her long red hair, then drew the water they need as Silva laugh at an unheard joke. Ianna splashed water at her, Silva gathered her long dress about her and dash to the side and out of range of the water. They both laugh harder as Ianna raised the jug to her ample hips. They stood there talking in length, what about the Uppers only knew. All the while Morad began to loose feeling in his extremities.
The Uppers most be having a laugh at my expense. The Upper Beings were a race, simply put, spoiled children with God like powers. While they were far up the evolutionary tree that lived on another plane they were petty and cruel. They delighted in melding with the populace of Amharc. Many worship the Uppers as true Gods but Morad held nothing but distain for them. He was often more vocal then wise about voicing his feelings towards them.
While he was very uncomfortable the thought of being discovered as such gave him greater concern. He manage to hold still until the women finally turn to make their way back to camp. Once he was sure they were out of sight he made his way out of the water. Morad could no longer feel his legs as if they were made of ice making exiting the water a challenge to say the least. Then attempting to pull his pants on all but futile until he stop to rub his legs vigorously trying to return some feeling to his legs.
Morad reach the camp just as Kilin called out his name. He step back into the clearing wearing the best smile he could muster.
“I became a little concerned when you did not return for so long.” Kilin said while giving him a curious look.
“The Uppers were having a little too much fun this morning.” Morad move past the Dwarf to make sure the conversation was over before it began. Kilin fell into step behind him wearing a grin. Morad clench his fist, took a deep breath, then relaxed and let an easy smile return to his lips.
The rest of the morning was uneventful and Morad soon found his group on the path Ryu left them. He watch as the forest slowly slip by him. They were a little over two days ride south of Aizeal and the forest thinned a bit here making riding in a group a little more feasible. The forest was alive with sounds, with deep colors of multiple greens.
The light scent the wind carried was both sweet and sickly, as one moment he could smell the fresh scent of new foliage and in the next the strong odder of decay. Morad was enjoying the rays of the sun that would a causally slip through the trees canopy which help chase the chill from his legs.
With a quick jerk he sat upright in his saddle and signaled for the others to stop. He took stock of his group. Ianna and Mother were slightly back and to either side of him. Kilin and Thor brought up the rear. Their cargo rode in the center of the pack.
He could see Ryu’s marker telling him to travel southwest yet it did not look right. Then he heard it, the slightest creak of a branch bowing under a heavy weight. Morad carefully signaled the others. Mother and Kilin both turn and force the old man and his companion to turn from the center of their pack to head back down the trail they just traveled at a steady trot. Ianna and Thor both pulled along side Morad.
He look at Ianna then to Thor. With their cargo safely away Ianna would be able to use her talents to their advantage, her skills were as striking as her red hair. Thor on the other hand was short and all scars though deadly with any of the three dozen daggers he carried. They both nodded their heads as they eased their mounts closer to him.
Morad studied the forest for a moment, but all was silent. He gave his stead a gentle squeeze with his knees. The horse move forward very slowly. Ianna and Thor fell behind three strides before moving forward. Morad scan every branch within each tree he could see as he strain his ears to hear the least bit of sound that did not belong to the forest. The horse snorted in disapproval as the smell finally reaches Morad. There was a foul odder in the air that made his stomach turn treating to toss his breakfast. He pulled the reins tight to steady his horse. He sat ridget for a time as he look deep into the forest.
Morad loosen the reins and kneed his horse’s right side when the horse screemed in pain bucking voliently nearly dislodging him from the saddle. He could see what distress the animal instantly. A nasty black arrow was protruding from the beast’s side just above his left knee. He jerked his head to see Thor was all ready leading Ianna behind a grouping of trees. He took frim hold of the reins and pulled left heading for the same clomp of trees. He did not see what hit him, the force of the blow knock him from his saddle. A sharp pain exploded in his right shoulder. He hit the ground with enough force to rip the breath from his lungs.
Chapter 1
We can believe life is black and white and defend those beliefs, what if we wake one day and find that the world is full of gray and you have to fight just to stay alive.
She clenched her hands tightly and looked around for something to throw, but since they were standing in the center of the great hall there was nothing within reach. She glared at her father whose brow was furled tightly into a knot. She knew he was close to losing his own temper.
"Now SheFi" He slowly worked the knot from his brow with his fingers. "The other races are, simply put, dangerous and unpredictable. You’re only ninety eight and far too young to understand." She threw her hands in the air.
"That’s the point. They are unpredictable and this is what we desperately need. Can’t you smell it," she gestured her hand outwards in a sweeping motion. "The stench of it? The stench of us becoming stagnant?" Her father grunted at the comment.
"It’s always the same argument. We are growing. Are we not opening two new temples just this spring?" Her shoulders dropped a little and her tone was flat.
"And how many temples of Asoroth Mentoron do we need? I believe that makes two hundred and twenty now." They both heard the light tinkle of chimes.
"I have other matters to attend to and frankly the matter is mute as the Elders will not consider contact with the other races and that’s final." She opened her mouth but bit down on her tongue when she looked into her fathers face. SheFi smartly turned and marched out of the hall. Her father watch as she left the hall, he look if he meant to follow when his aids came into the room.
SheFi was sculling so hard she failed to notice how others that encountered her in the passageways would scurry quickly from view once they caught a glimpse of her. She soon reach the courtyard, it was full of a dizzying display of multi-colored flowers whose scent gave one pleasant thoughts. There were also several fountains that were designed to enhance ones calm.
“I am so sick of this place.” She snorted at the flowers. “It never changes, year in year out always the same.” She resisted the urge to start ripping all the flowers out by their roots. She stopped just long enough to locate a group of young Elves gathered on the far side of the courtyard. She quickly made her way over to them.
"I take it by the look on your face he said no."
"Do you even really need to ask?" She glared at FireaAel who simply smiled back at her.
"I realize it was a thin hope, but then there’s no reason to take it out on us. Remember we share the same views on the subject." FireaAel said this time with a straight face, but there was humor in his eyes that irked her, she knew he was right. SheFi looked over the group she called her friends and nodded so. The older Elven folk did not understand her and her friends as they tended to wear tight fitting jerkins that were stained in very dark hues and took berries to stain their nail’s and around their eyes. They were rebellious and full of conviction.
"My father is so stubborn."
"Well you know what they say, the blossom never falls far from the tree." With a quick grin he skillfully danced out of SheFi’s striking range. The others broke out in laughter until she whipped her head in their direction. She finally cracked a smile and the others started to laugh again. She knew all to well her friends would not let her stay mad. After the laughter settled a bit Tho spoke up.
"So what do we do now?" SheFi looked up at Tho’s comment.
"We could wait until one of us becomes an Elder." Eyllis offered. Tho curled his lip into a sneer which damaged his fragile face.
"Hmm, yes, let’s wait. It will only take eight hundred years or so." Eyllis eyes puffed slightly and she withdrew from the others a little.
"That’s enough Tho!" SheFi snapped out, which made Tho and the others blink and view her carefully. She could see out the corner of her eye FireaAel trying hard to hide another grin by bringing his hand up to cover his mouth. "She is only trying to help," she finished calmly.
"You’re right of course." Tho turned to Eyllis as he spoke. "I am sorry. Please do forgive me." She immediately smiled and shuffled closer to the group again.
"So, I guess we are back to square one," FireaAel said. Then his eyes lit up as he began to dance around causing the others to laugh again at his silliness. "Unless the other races come knocking on our door, we may have to wait eight hundred years." He continued to dance around and spinning as the others clapped for him to continue. He stop as soon as he looked at SheFi.
"You know I don’t like that look in your soul. The last time you lead us to release a pack of Pixies in the main square. Do you remember that and what happened?"
"Yes, but perhaps you remember," she said. "We thought the pixies were being treated unfairly. How was I supposed to know Pixies are nothing more then mischievous imps. What, we were no more than thirty or forty at the time." She glared at him.
"Yes, and they proceeded to turn the whole place upside down. As I recall, I spent four weeks as a tree and you…" She held up her hand.
"Yes, I’d rather not dreg that memory back up. This time, however, I know more, and I have a plan." FireaAel shivered as a rather wicked smile pass over SheFi’s lips.
SheFi could hear the others shuffle behind her. The going was slow as the clouds were hiding most of the twin moons. She could make out the sound of a stone being scraped as a rock slip over the edge. She strain to hear it hit bottom, the sound never came as the darkness swallowed and sign that there even was a bottom.
"How did I ever allow you to talk me into this?" FireaAel’s voice carried lightly on the wind to her ear.
"Because I have you twisted around my soul." He was quiet for a moment or two.
"At least you’re honest about it." They both smiled unseen in the darkness.
”So what are we doing exactly?” FireaAel ask.
“We are going to convince the Great Council they need us as we need them.”
“Is that all?! You make it sound as if it’s a walk in a field.” SheFi was unperturbed by his comment.
“Of course not I relieve it is going to be tough.” She changed her hand hold so she could slide forward along the narrow path. The wind was a constant danger as it would die down then flare up trying to knock the unwary off.
“It will only be tough until we end up in Torif.”
“Ow. And the Great Council will be a push over I suppose.” He sounded unconvinced.
“They can not possibly refuse what we have to offer. We surpass them in science and art, and our natural magic is far stronger. Plus, our system of governing is more practical.” She slowed as the ledge narrowed slightly. “They will want us to help guide them and in return we will get change and growth, this is what we need, even if the Elders are too blind to see it.” He was silent for several heartbeats
“While I think you are slightly over confident I agree with your statement.” It was her turn to be silent as she though about what he just said. She wondered if he was right. She knew this trip was fraught with danger and the future was uncertain.
“It either this or we wait eight hundred years for change to come.”
Her thoughts were interrupted as the wind tried plucking her from the ledge as she rounded the far side of the mountain. SheFi quickly signaled to the others to be careful and continued to cling to the rock wall so the wind would find no purchase and carry her off into the darkness. FireaAel slowly made his way just behind her.
This side of the mountain was darker and even with her keen eyesight the path was nearly impossible to see. As FireaAel round the rock wall the clouds choose that moment to hide the twin moons completely throwing the group in total blackness.
“Great now I can’t see a blasted thing.” She opened her mind and felt around until she found several strands of magic floating close by. She mentally reached out and grabbed the nearest strand. Once she had a firm hold of it she created a mental image then meshed it with the strand, she started pulling and stretching it into shape of a small sun. She slowly reached her hand out and then gently pushed the image of the sun into her hand, then spoke the word, "Solas". A small ember of light seemed to spring forth out of nowhere in the palm of her hand.
The small amber began to glow brighter as she stretched the image of the sun bigger. Then she felt it, something was wrong. The orb started to throb and shimmer as she was having a problem controlling the image she’d formed.
Dear mother of Amharc it’s a surge. She frantically tried to dump the image and disengage from the stand. The strand shot several small silver strands that anchored it's self to her. A memory flashed through her mind.
The image was of SheFi when she was very young. She was gathered with her friends as Atear Sithek was teaching them the proper way to shape magic when someone asked about the surges.
"This is a good question. First they are properly called wild surges, as they are totally unpredictable in what they will do. It is commonly believed that surges are ruminates or tears of very powerful magic left over from the Mage Wars. For the most part, they are harmless unless they are shaped for magical use. By the looks on your faces you should not worry. The chances of you grabbing a surge are very remote. Over three thousand years since the Mage Wars, the number of accounts of someone encountering a surge has steadily declined. It is commonly believed that in the next nine hundred years they will cease to exist."
Valsa asked, "What do you do if you happen to grab a surge?" His expression changed slightly to a darker mood.
"To be perfectly honest, all you can do is pray to the Upper Beings and try to keep your sanity."
SheFi was snapped back to the present as she watched the orb flashing faster and the thin threads that held her fast began to grow and build up with power she would have not thought possible. The power was starting to consume her as she fought in vain to keep the flood of power from flowing from her hand. She broke out in a heavy sweat and her breathing became labored.
"What’s wrong SheFi?" FireaAel’s concerned voice called to her. She was too busy fighting a losing battle to answer him. It was not unlike being torn in two as the magic would not be denied and ripped through her weaken defenses as it traveled up and through out her body. At once the orb flared into a mighty sun. The light from the flash felt if it would light half of Norif.
Her mind went numb while she was tossed into total chaos as SheFi shut her eyes tightly against the madding light. SheFi felt as if she was drowning, and then there was a strange calm. She opened her eyes to find herself floating in front of a wall of fire that stretched in every direction with no edges in sight.
Where in Rae’s name am I?
"You’re between life and death," came FireaAel’s voice. She looked around trying to find him when she felt a wave of vertigo wash over her as the wall of fire was now a lake and she floated helplessly above it. SheFi watched as FireaAel faded into view. He was floating lazily on the flames and smiling up at her, but a look in his soul puzzled her, it left her with a shudder. She tried to talk, it felt as if something was lodged deep in her throat cutting off any sound.
"It's ok SheFi, words are not necessary here." She heard his calming tone.
You say we are between life and death. Does that mean we’re dead, and how are you here with me, what if we can’t…?
"Shhh, my time is short." There was an edge to his tone that stilled her thoughts as she waited for him to continue. "To answer your first question, no you are not dead. You will survive this. I am here to warn you. The path set before you, you must accept. You will be alone and hated with no refuge to call home. Trust only the King as the Bishop will betray you." He started to fade from her sight and the flames seemed to lose some of their intensity.
Wait! I don’t understand what you are saying. The flames were starting to cool and darkness was creeping in. She could feel her physical body again, it was becoming hard to think clearly. He was gone from her sight, but she could still feel the link in her mind.
"Remember you are my half of my soul and for that I will always love you. May the Upper Beings guide and protect you." With that the world went dark.
A soft knock came at the door as she slowly rose from the chair and forced herself to walk steadfast too it. She reached out to the door handle with a shaking hand, she paused long enough to steady it. SheFi opened the door as a young maiden curtsied.
"The Elders will see you now S-ion" SheFi stepped out into the hall and the young Elf scurried away in the opposite direction acting as if she had other duties she must attend to immediately.
Even though SheFi knew the way to the Elders chambers, she had never dared to step foot in as it was a place of great power that she slightly feared. She took no joy in this trip. The wonderful tapestries and darkly stained carpets could not brighten her mood. She shivered a little and pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders.
The halls are empty. They must be preparing for the wake. There will be lots of drinking and lovemaking to celebrate his life. He would dearly love… Stop that! He is gone and that is all that is needed to be said. SheFi checked but felt no tears coming.
SheFi was unsure why she could not cry, she was also concern with the fact that she could no longer speak. The doctors told her the magic had changed her vocal cords. They were doughtfull if she would ever be able to speak again.
She turned right down a narrow passage where an attendant had let one the lights hanging on the wall run dry. As she entered the darkness of the hallway as an image of FireaAel’s twisted and broken from lying at the bottom of the mountain made her steps falter for a moment. She waved her hand in front of her trying to chase the image from her view. SheFi quickened her step to reach the light of the next lamp.
She soon reached the door with the massive mural etched into it. The mural was always changing to reveal recent events in Norif. Today the door seemed to match her soul. It was dark and clouded and was unwilling to reveal anything. As she reached to the great brass handle, she felt a charge of energy seem to leap from her hand to the door causing it to groan, the darkness parted revealing a map of Norif.
The map shifted around enlarging the Elven capital. A road formed at the capital and worked its way south, and then turned east over YaLam pass, then it turned north. As it traveled, she could see flashes of images that moved so fast her eyes could not follow them. The road continued north finally ending at Torif.
"The path set before you, you must accept." She whipped her head around. It sounded as if FireaAel was standing just behind her and whispered in her ear. Not seeing him, she turned back to the door, which now only showed the gray mass of nothingness again twisting and turning.
What was that? Is that my future? This door is not supposed to be able to do that. What of that message? Did I really hear that or is my mind just teasing me into a slow madness? She knew too many questions but no answers, so she set her thoughts aside and pulled the ancient door open
The door opened onto a short hall that carried her into a round room. The room was rather small, but well lighted, as there were fourteen large windows that ran from a built in bench at floor level covered in thick-pillow cushions to a very sharply curved ceiling. In the center of the domed ceiling was a large crystal skylight that made the sun light dance as if it was possessed. Each cushion was occupied by an Elder, which also included her father.
Bael-llae Auvrea, the oldest of the Elders, stood and gestured her to the center of the room. SheFi complied. "SheFi-ion Orle-rea, daughter of Tahl-ion Orle-rae, you have been summoned before us to hear our decision in the death of FireaAel Gysse-neldth." His tone was soft and clear as a spring wind, but carried a weight that made her uneasy.
"We have determined it was a wild surge that was the result of his death, it has also been determined that he would have not been there if you had not encouraged the whole group to follow you. So you are directly responsible for putting him into harm’s way. This leaves us only two choices according to our laws. The first is, of course, death which we all agree is not called for in this instance. SheFi breathed a slight sigh of relief but still stood taught as she waited. "The second choice is to send you into exile for no less then five hundred years."
She felt as if an anvil was being dropped on her heart and fought with every ounce of her strength to keep from fainting. She knew of no Elf that ever returned from exile. "In respect to you and your father, you will be given three days to grieve, and then you will be escorted from the Elven territories. May the Upper Beings be with you and find you safely back to your people when your time to rejoin us comes." His smile was weak and carried no warmth. She looked to her father, but his face carried no expression she could read so she turned and left the room.
She sat in her chair facing the open window. The sun was not far from rising and she was determined for one last look. Her window sat fairly high up in the capital building and she could clearly see the whole of the city from her window. The first rays slowly slipped over the ridge of the mountain hitting the many tall spires that dotted the city’s rooftops. The stone and crystal that were masterfully built into them made the suns rays spin off in thousands of directions creating a brilliant work of art. The rays were directed and broken down in such a way that it formed a brilliant field full of lilacs, then slowly shifted to that of a thunderous waterfall. As the sun rose higher the image shifted to one of a snow covered mountain range. The images faded away slowly as the sun cleared its self fully over the ridge of the mountains.
The splendor of the Elven art and science could be seen in every building, as it all seamlessly blended to gather complementing each other and at the same instance stood aloof and separate as if there were no other building that could compare to it. SheFi knew this sight she would miss the most.
This is no time for self-pity. She forced herself into action. She went to the bed and checked her sack. It contained two sets of traveling clothing, one heavy cloak, and a silver dagger that was more decorative then functional.
I still have no coin… I guess I can part with a few pieces of jewelry father has given me. Father why have you not come to see me? She forced herself not to dwell on it. SheFi spent most of her life growing up in the capital building. Begin the daughter of an Elder, she was pampered. Every thing she wanted was all ready bought and paid for and she had never felt any real need for coin.
She went to her desk and pulled a small chest out, which she carried over to her bed. SheFi opened the chest and dumped the contents on to it then sat down besides them. The large pile of treasure gleamed from the stray sunlight that spilled in through her window. The sunlight breathed life in to several pieces.
The first piece was a sagely blue dragon made of finely cut blue gems edged in gold. It spread its small wings and took to the air soaring high, and then softly floating down to her outstretched arm. It coiled its long tail several times around her arm then settled itself once more becoming solid. The next piece was shaped into the mighty griffin, fashioned of pure onyx and silver. It took a mighty leap and landed on her chest and wrapped its mighty wings around her neck forming an intricate chain that moved with her. It circled itself several times as a cat might then curled up and came to rest.
Thank you, my brave friends, for your sacrifice and the rest of you will be safe here. She reached out with her mind and touched each piece. Then carefully gathered them up and placed them pack into the chest and replaced it in her desk. I guess it is time. She went to the door took one last look at her room, and then stepped out into the hall. There, two capital soldiers waited patiently in their finest to escort her out of the Elven territories. One of the soldiers handed her a small bag.
"Your father wanted you to have this." She could hear the jingle of coins, for which she was grateful. She nodded her head and took the bag stuffing it away into her shoulder pack. They escorted her down the long halls out in to the courtyard. She braced herself, as was the custom when an Elf was exiled everyone would gather wordlessly and turn their backs on them as they went by. There was no one in sight.
She looked to one of the guards with a concerned look.
"Regardless of the death, we all know you do not deserve this and out of respect to your father and you they have stayed home to let you pass in peace in the hopes you will one day return."
With these protest in mind I have debated for some time on how to approach publishing. I have come to the realization I just wish to share these stories. I have never been interested in monetary gain from this endeavor, thou I have to admit seeing my stories in hard cover would be a hugh boost to my ego. Who knows it may still happen one day but for now I plan on simply placing the stories here in my blogs.
I do hesitate slightly as I am dyslexic and I currently do not have someone to edit for the mistake I often make. I have worked hard to over come this flaw and to ensure there are few as possible errors. So please keep this in mind as you read. As always I welcome comments on the story such as flow, content, or grammar if you’re so inclined. While I do not mind harsh comments as long as they have merit and can help the story alone.
While I am horrible with blogging I do believe I can manage this if I post one chapter a week. The first book is called the ‘Gem of Souls’. I have planned 12 books for the series. The first is complete and book two and three are in progress. The stories are ADnD based and are centered on the world of Amharc.
I will provide more information on the stories tomorrow. I am posting the prolog and first chapter today. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoyed crafting them.
Prolog
The shadow of darkness surrounds us. We believe the light protects us, though nightmares can exist in the light.
He nearly spilled his drink as her hand crept slowly up his leg. Morad smiled as he watched the table full of fine flesh giggle and whisper to each other. He raised his tankard to hide the evil smile he could not contain. Her hand slowly crept higher up his thigh.
“Now now, there will be plenty of time for that later. For now let me watch you all dance as I get my fill of ale.” The women immediately sprang to life with shouts of laughter as they jumped up and began gyrating in ways he would have never thought possible.
“Morad”
“Morad”
He looked across the table to the unfamiliar voice. There sat a human perhaps in his late thirties dress all in white robes. Morad shift his gaze to the left as an explosion of giggles reached his ear.
“Morad”
He jerk his head back towards the strange fellow. His eyes narrowed as his smile faded. Morad took to studying the fellow again. The eyes of the man seem to draw him as they hint at the man was far older then he look. Those eyes suggest as if they may have been around to see the universe begin.
“Listen friend, I am sure I do not know you and as you can see.” Morad raised his hand in a swinging motion outwards towards the nearly naked bodies swirling around and around awaiting his approval. “I am rather busy, so perhaps we can talk later.” He turned his head and whistle to encourage them to hopefully remove the remaining bits of clothing.
“Morad”
Morad slammed his tankard down on the table.
“You really know how to kill a good time. Since you have irked me to a point as to kill the buzz the ale has labored so hard to provide me.” Morad pause for a moment. “So what is it I can do for you?”
“You must give it to me.” The tone of the man was flat while his face remain the same.
“Give you what?” The man pointed to the table just before Morad. He look down to discover a simple wood box.
“Well I don’t know where this came from but you can have it. Now, if you don’t mind, I need more ale.” Morad raised his tankard when the strange fellow became more insistent.
“You must give it to me.” Morad let the tankard settle back to the table while he lean back in his chair for a tick. Seeing this fellow was not going to let him enjoy his evening without receiving the box. He lean forward to take possession of the box when the air became heavy and the warmth left the room. It felt as if he was in a bubble that stopped time its self. As his hands grew closer the heavier the air became, the effort to reach the box became a strain. Morad stop just short of the box as he felt his very soul seem to be slipping away from him. He broke into a heavy sweat as he once again look to the strange fellow.
He took a deep breath and reached the final length to the box which pass through his grasp. Morad watch as the box winked out of existence. He felt the bubble that had stop time pop and sound and light seem to rush forward again. The robed fellow shook his head sadly.
“You must retrieve it and bring it to me.” Morad sat back with his body left weak. He look across the table at the man in white.
“Where do I find it?”
“You will find it in Twill.”
Morad twist his head as a retched cackle caught his attention. His pets were replaced wit fat and twisted flesh. The smiles that greeted him now were toothless and sour, it was enough to make his skin crawl. They danced and twisted about waving at Morad teasing him with bits of exposed flesh the rotted off the bone before him.
His eyes flew open and his breathing came fast. Morad sat up quickly and blinked several times. Camp, I’m in camp. He took quick stock as he could see the sleeping forms of his group. He slowed his breathing and eased back onto his elbows. Dam this job. Ever sense we took this job on I have been dreaming of Twill. But now it’s even invading my good dreams.
He wiped the sweat from his brow. Great it’s going to be a hot one today. He look to the night sky and could see Valus moon on the horizon though Huros moon was all ready gone from view. He looked around the camp once more. Mother won’t be up for a few still. I guess I could take a quick bath before the others awake.
He made no sound as he rose and slowly made his way down the path that lead to the spring they made camp by. He made no hurry as the sun was just starting to break over the horizon. The birds were softly chirping though the air felt heavy and sticky to his skin. There was no breeze to relieve this feeling. The path was short and he reach the bubbling spring with little effort. Morad stood and enjoyed the sound bring back memories of youth. He closed his eyes and let himself be carried away with the sounds of the stream. He stood there for a time until the hot touch of the sun on his skin reminded him why he had come. Turning west he followed it downstream a few dozen strides. He strip down then edged his foot into the water only to jerk it back.
“Dam the Uppers its ice cold. Well a quick bath it will be then.” Morad took a deep breath and stepped in to quickly submerge himself up to his neck in one fluid motion. He drew blood as he bit his lower lip to keep from yelling out at the touch of the ice cold water that rush to cool his discomfort away.
The distinct laughter of Ianna and Silvia as they came down to the stream force Morad to stop in mid-motion as he made to climb out of his ice bath. He could clearly see they were coming to draw water. Morad quickly search for more cover, but finding none better gave a heavy sigh and settled back down into the water to wait them out.
He was ten or so strides downstream from where they were drawing the water. The few tall reeds provide simple cover as long as he did not move. The two ladies reach the streams edge and seem to be in good spirits. While their tones were lite, it left Morad unable to hear what they were saying. Ianna loosely knotted her long red hair, then drew the water they need as Silva laugh at an unheard joke. Ianna splashed water at her, Silva gathered her long dress about her and dash to the side and out of range of the water. They both laugh harder as Ianna raised the jug to her ample hips. They stood there talking in length, what about the Uppers only knew. All the while Morad began to loose feeling in his extremities.
The Uppers most be having a laugh at my expense. The Upper Beings were a race, simply put, spoiled children with God like powers. While they were far up the evolutionary tree that lived on another plane they were petty and cruel. They delighted in melding with the populace of Amharc. Many worship the Uppers as true Gods but Morad held nothing but distain for them. He was often more vocal then wise about voicing his feelings towards them.
While he was very uncomfortable the thought of being discovered as such gave him greater concern. He manage to hold still until the women finally turn to make their way back to camp. Once he was sure they were out of sight he made his way out of the water. Morad could no longer feel his legs as if they were made of ice making exiting the water a challenge to say the least. Then attempting to pull his pants on all but futile until he stop to rub his legs vigorously trying to return some feeling to his legs.
Morad reach the camp just as Kilin called out his name. He step back into the clearing wearing the best smile he could muster.
“I became a little concerned when you did not return for so long.” Kilin said while giving him a curious look.
“The Uppers were having a little too much fun this morning.” Morad move past the Dwarf to make sure the conversation was over before it began. Kilin fell into step behind him wearing a grin. Morad clench his fist, took a deep breath, then relaxed and let an easy smile return to his lips.
The rest of the morning was uneventful and Morad soon found his group on the path Ryu left them. He watch as the forest slowly slip by him. They were a little over two days ride south of Aizeal and the forest thinned a bit here making riding in a group a little more feasible. The forest was alive with sounds, with deep colors of multiple greens.
The light scent the wind carried was both sweet and sickly, as one moment he could smell the fresh scent of new foliage and in the next the strong odder of decay. Morad was enjoying the rays of the sun that would a causally slip through the trees canopy which help chase the chill from his legs.
With a quick jerk he sat upright in his saddle and signaled for the others to stop. He took stock of his group. Ianna and Mother were slightly back and to either side of him. Kilin and Thor brought up the rear. Their cargo rode in the center of the pack.
He could see Ryu’s marker telling him to travel southwest yet it did not look right. Then he heard it, the slightest creak of a branch bowing under a heavy weight. Morad carefully signaled the others. Mother and Kilin both turn and force the old man and his companion to turn from the center of their pack to head back down the trail they just traveled at a steady trot. Ianna and Thor both pulled along side Morad.
He look at Ianna then to Thor. With their cargo safely away Ianna would be able to use her talents to their advantage, her skills were as striking as her red hair. Thor on the other hand was short and all scars though deadly with any of the three dozen daggers he carried. They both nodded their heads as they eased their mounts closer to him.
Morad studied the forest for a moment, but all was silent. He gave his stead a gentle squeeze with his knees. The horse move forward very slowly. Ianna and Thor fell behind three strides before moving forward. Morad scan every branch within each tree he could see as he strain his ears to hear the least bit of sound that did not belong to the forest. The horse snorted in disapproval as the smell finally reaches Morad. There was a foul odder in the air that made his stomach turn treating to toss his breakfast. He pulled the reins tight to steady his horse. He sat ridget for a time as he look deep into the forest.
Morad loosen the reins and kneed his horse’s right side when the horse screemed in pain bucking voliently nearly dislodging him from the saddle. He could see what distress the animal instantly. A nasty black arrow was protruding from the beast’s side just above his left knee. He jerked his head to see Thor was all ready leading Ianna behind a grouping of trees. He took frim hold of the reins and pulled left heading for the same clomp of trees. He did not see what hit him, the force of the blow knock him from his saddle. A sharp pain exploded in his right shoulder. He hit the ground with enough force to rip the breath from his lungs.
Chapter 1
We can believe life is black and white and defend those beliefs, what if we wake one day and find that the world is full of gray and you have to fight just to stay alive.
She clenched her hands tightly and looked around for something to throw, but since they were standing in the center of the great hall there was nothing within reach. She glared at her father whose brow was furled tightly into a knot. She knew he was close to losing his own temper.
"Now SheFi" He slowly worked the knot from his brow with his fingers. "The other races are, simply put, dangerous and unpredictable. You’re only ninety eight and far too young to understand." She threw her hands in the air.
"That’s the point. They are unpredictable and this is what we desperately need. Can’t you smell it," she gestured her hand outwards in a sweeping motion. "The stench of it? The stench of us becoming stagnant?" Her father grunted at the comment.
"It’s always the same argument. We are growing. Are we not opening two new temples just this spring?" Her shoulders dropped a little and her tone was flat.
"And how many temples of Asoroth Mentoron do we need? I believe that makes two hundred and twenty now." They both heard the light tinkle of chimes.
"I have other matters to attend to and frankly the matter is mute as the Elders will not consider contact with the other races and that’s final." She opened her mouth but bit down on her tongue when she looked into her fathers face. SheFi smartly turned and marched out of the hall. Her father watch as she left the hall, he look if he meant to follow when his aids came into the room.
SheFi was sculling so hard she failed to notice how others that encountered her in the passageways would scurry quickly from view once they caught a glimpse of her. She soon reach the courtyard, it was full of a dizzying display of multi-colored flowers whose scent gave one pleasant thoughts. There were also several fountains that were designed to enhance ones calm.
“I am so sick of this place.” She snorted at the flowers. “It never changes, year in year out always the same.” She resisted the urge to start ripping all the flowers out by their roots. She stopped just long enough to locate a group of young Elves gathered on the far side of the courtyard. She quickly made her way over to them.
"I take it by the look on your face he said no."
"Do you even really need to ask?" She glared at FireaAel who simply smiled back at her.
"I realize it was a thin hope, but then there’s no reason to take it out on us. Remember we share the same views on the subject." FireaAel said this time with a straight face, but there was humor in his eyes that irked her, she knew he was right. SheFi looked over the group she called her friends and nodded so. The older Elven folk did not understand her and her friends as they tended to wear tight fitting jerkins that were stained in very dark hues and took berries to stain their nail’s and around their eyes. They were rebellious and full of conviction.
"My father is so stubborn."
"Well you know what they say, the blossom never falls far from the tree." With a quick grin he skillfully danced out of SheFi’s striking range. The others broke out in laughter until she whipped her head in their direction. She finally cracked a smile and the others started to laugh again. She knew all to well her friends would not let her stay mad. After the laughter settled a bit Tho spoke up.
"So what do we do now?" SheFi looked up at Tho’s comment.
"We could wait until one of us becomes an Elder." Eyllis offered. Tho curled his lip into a sneer which damaged his fragile face.
"Hmm, yes, let’s wait. It will only take eight hundred years or so." Eyllis eyes puffed slightly and she withdrew from the others a little.
"That’s enough Tho!" SheFi snapped out, which made Tho and the others blink and view her carefully. She could see out the corner of her eye FireaAel trying hard to hide another grin by bringing his hand up to cover his mouth. "She is only trying to help," she finished calmly.
"You’re right of course." Tho turned to Eyllis as he spoke. "I am sorry. Please do forgive me." She immediately smiled and shuffled closer to the group again.
"So, I guess we are back to square one," FireaAel said. Then his eyes lit up as he began to dance around causing the others to laugh again at his silliness. "Unless the other races come knocking on our door, we may have to wait eight hundred years." He continued to dance around and spinning as the others clapped for him to continue. He stop as soon as he looked at SheFi.
"You know I don’t like that look in your soul. The last time you lead us to release a pack of Pixies in the main square. Do you remember that and what happened?"
"Yes, but perhaps you remember," she said. "We thought the pixies were being treated unfairly. How was I supposed to know Pixies are nothing more then mischievous imps. What, we were no more than thirty or forty at the time." She glared at him.
"Yes, and they proceeded to turn the whole place upside down. As I recall, I spent four weeks as a tree and you…" She held up her hand.
"Yes, I’d rather not dreg that memory back up. This time, however, I know more, and I have a plan." FireaAel shivered as a rather wicked smile pass over SheFi’s lips.
SheFi could hear the others shuffle behind her. The going was slow as the clouds were hiding most of the twin moons. She could make out the sound of a stone being scraped as a rock slip over the edge. She strain to hear it hit bottom, the sound never came as the darkness swallowed and sign that there even was a bottom.
"How did I ever allow you to talk me into this?" FireaAel’s voice carried lightly on the wind to her ear.
"Because I have you twisted around my soul." He was quiet for a moment or two.
"At least you’re honest about it." They both smiled unseen in the darkness.
”So what are we doing exactly?” FireaAel ask.
“We are going to convince the Great Council they need us as we need them.”
“Is that all?! You make it sound as if it’s a walk in a field.” SheFi was unperturbed by his comment.
“Of course not I relieve it is going to be tough.” She changed her hand hold so she could slide forward along the narrow path. The wind was a constant danger as it would die down then flare up trying to knock the unwary off.
“It will only be tough until we end up in Torif.”
“Ow. And the Great Council will be a push over I suppose.” He sounded unconvinced.
“They can not possibly refuse what we have to offer. We surpass them in science and art, and our natural magic is far stronger. Plus, our system of governing is more practical.” She slowed as the ledge narrowed slightly. “They will want us to help guide them and in return we will get change and growth, this is what we need, even if the Elders are too blind to see it.” He was silent for several heartbeats
“While I think you are slightly over confident I agree with your statement.” It was her turn to be silent as she though about what he just said. She wondered if he was right. She knew this trip was fraught with danger and the future was uncertain.
“It either this or we wait eight hundred years for change to come.”
Her thoughts were interrupted as the wind tried plucking her from the ledge as she rounded the far side of the mountain. SheFi quickly signaled to the others to be careful and continued to cling to the rock wall so the wind would find no purchase and carry her off into the darkness. FireaAel slowly made his way just behind her.
This side of the mountain was darker and even with her keen eyesight the path was nearly impossible to see. As FireaAel round the rock wall the clouds choose that moment to hide the twin moons completely throwing the group in total blackness.
“Great now I can’t see a blasted thing.” She opened her mind and felt around until she found several strands of magic floating close by. She mentally reached out and grabbed the nearest strand. Once she had a firm hold of it she created a mental image then meshed it with the strand, she started pulling and stretching it into shape of a small sun. She slowly reached her hand out and then gently pushed the image of the sun into her hand, then spoke the word, "Solas". A small ember of light seemed to spring forth out of nowhere in the palm of her hand.
The small amber began to glow brighter as she stretched the image of the sun bigger. Then she felt it, something was wrong. The orb started to throb and shimmer as she was having a problem controlling the image she’d formed.
Dear mother of Amharc it’s a surge. She frantically tried to dump the image and disengage from the stand. The strand shot several small silver strands that anchored it's self to her. A memory flashed through her mind.
The image was of SheFi when she was very young. She was gathered with her friends as Atear Sithek was teaching them the proper way to shape magic when someone asked about the surges.
"This is a good question. First they are properly called wild surges, as they are totally unpredictable in what they will do. It is commonly believed that surges are ruminates or tears of very powerful magic left over from the Mage Wars. For the most part, they are harmless unless they are shaped for magical use. By the looks on your faces you should not worry. The chances of you grabbing a surge are very remote. Over three thousand years since the Mage Wars, the number of accounts of someone encountering a surge has steadily declined. It is commonly believed that in the next nine hundred years they will cease to exist."
Valsa asked, "What do you do if you happen to grab a surge?" His expression changed slightly to a darker mood.
"To be perfectly honest, all you can do is pray to the Upper Beings and try to keep your sanity."
SheFi was snapped back to the present as she watched the orb flashing faster and the thin threads that held her fast began to grow and build up with power she would have not thought possible. The power was starting to consume her as she fought in vain to keep the flood of power from flowing from her hand. She broke out in a heavy sweat and her breathing became labored.
"What’s wrong SheFi?" FireaAel’s concerned voice called to her. She was too busy fighting a losing battle to answer him. It was not unlike being torn in two as the magic would not be denied and ripped through her weaken defenses as it traveled up and through out her body. At once the orb flared into a mighty sun. The light from the flash felt if it would light half of Norif.
Her mind went numb while she was tossed into total chaos as SheFi shut her eyes tightly against the madding light. SheFi felt as if she was drowning, and then there was a strange calm. She opened her eyes to find herself floating in front of a wall of fire that stretched in every direction with no edges in sight.
Where in Rae’s name am I?
"You’re between life and death," came FireaAel’s voice. She looked around trying to find him when she felt a wave of vertigo wash over her as the wall of fire was now a lake and she floated helplessly above it. SheFi watched as FireaAel faded into view. He was floating lazily on the flames and smiling up at her, but a look in his soul puzzled her, it left her with a shudder. She tried to talk, it felt as if something was lodged deep in her throat cutting off any sound.
"It's ok SheFi, words are not necessary here." She heard his calming tone.
You say we are between life and death. Does that mean we’re dead, and how are you here with me, what if we can’t…?
"Shhh, my time is short." There was an edge to his tone that stilled her thoughts as she waited for him to continue. "To answer your first question, no you are not dead. You will survive this. I am here to warn you. The path set before you, you must accept. You will be alone and hated with no refuge to call home. Trust only the King as the Bishop will betray you." He started to fade from her sight and the flames seemed to lose some of their intensity.
Wait! I don’t understand what you are saying. The flames were starting to cool and darkness was creeping in. She could feel her physical body again, it was becoming hard to think clearly. He was gone from her sight, but she could still feel the link in her mind.
"Remember you are my half of my soul and for that I will always love you. May the Upper Beings guide and protect you." With that the world went dark.
A soft knock came at the door as she slowly rose from the chair and forced herself to walk steadfast too it. She reached out to the door handle with a shaking hand, she paused long enough to steady it. SheFi opened the door as a young maiden curtsied.
"The Elders will see you now S-ion" SheFi stepped out into the hall and the young Elf scurried away in the opposite direction acting as if she had other duties she must attend to immediately.
Even though SheFi knew the way to the Elders chambers, she had never dared to step foot in as it was a place of great power that she slightly feared. She took no joy in this trip. The wonderful tapestries and darkly stained carpets could not brighten her mood. She shivered a little and pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders.
The halls are empty. They must be preparing for the wake. There will be lots of drinking and lovemaking to celebrate his life. He would dearly love… Stop that! He is gone and that is all that is needed to be said. SheFi checked but felt no tears coming.
SheFi was unsure why she could not cry, she was also concern with the fact that she could no longer speak. The doctors told her the magic had changed her vocal cords. They were doughtfull if she would ever be able to speak again.
She turned right down a narrow passage where an attendant had let one the lights hanging on the wall run dry. As she entered the darkness of the hallway as an image of FireaAel’s twisted and broken from lying at the bottom of the mountain made her steps falter for a moment. She waved her hand in front of her trying to chase the image from her view. SheFi quickened her step to reach the light of the next lamp.
She soon reached the door with the massive mural etched into it. The mural was always changing to reveal recent events in Norif. Today the door seemed to match her soul. It was dark and clouded and was unwilling to reveal anything. As she reached to the great brass handle, she felt a charge of energy seem to leap from her hand to the door causing it to groan, the darkness parted revealing a map of Norif.
The map shifted around enlarging the Elven capital. A road formed at the capital and worked its way south, and then turned east over YaLam pass, then it turned north. As it traveled, she could see flashes of images that moved so fast her eyes could not follow them. The road continued north finally ending at Torif.
"The path set before you, you must accept." She whipped her head around. It sounded as if FireaAel was standing just behind her and whispered in her ear. Not seeing him, she turned back to the door, which now only showed the gray mass of nothingness again twisting and turning.
What was that? Is that my future? This door is not supposed to be able to do that. What of that message? Did I really hear that or is my mind just teasing me into a slow madness? She knew too many questions but no answers, so she set her thoughts aside and pulled the ancient door open
The door opened onto a short hall that carried her into a round room. The room was rather small, but well lighted, as there were fourteen large windows that ran from a built in bench at floor level covered in thick-pillow cushions to a very sharply curved ceiling. In the center of the domed ceiling was a large crystal skylight that made the sun light dance as if it was possessed. Each cushion was occupied by an Elder, which also included her father.
Bael-llae Auvrea, the oldest of the Elders, stood and gestured her to the center of the room. SheFi complied. "SheFi-ion Orle-rea, daughter of Tahl-ion Orle-rae, you have been summoned before us to hear our decision in the death of FireaAel Gysse-neldth." His tone was soft and clear as a spring wind, but carried a weight that made her uneasy.
"We have determined it was a wild surge that was the result of his death, it has also been determined that he would have not been there if you had not encouraged the whole group to follow you. So you are directly responsible for putting him into harm’s way. This leaves us only two choices according to our laws. The first is, of course, death which we all agree is not called for in this instance. SheFi breathed a slight sigh of relief but still stood taught as she waited. "The second choice is to send you into exile for no less then five hundred years."
She felt as if an anvil was being dropped on her heart and fought with every ounce of her strength to keep from fainting. She knew of no Elf that ever returned from exile. "In respect to you and your father, you will be given three days to grieve, and then you will be escorted from the Elven territories. May the Upper Beings be with you and find you safely back to your people when your time to rejoin us comes." His smile was weak and carried no warmth. She looked to her father, but his face carried no expression she could read so she turned and left the room.
She sat in her chair facing the open window. The sun was not far from rising and she was determined for one last look. Her window sat fairly high up in the capital building and she could clearly see the whole of the city from her window. The first rays slowly slipped over the ridge of the mountain hitting the many tall spires that dotted the city’s rooftops. The stone and crystal that were masterfully built into them made the suns rays spin off in thousands of directions creating a brilliant work of art. The rays were directed and broken down in such a way that it formed a brilliant field full of lilacs, then slowly shifted to that of a thunderous waterfall. As the sun rose higher the image shifted to one of a snow covered mountain range. The images faded away slowly as the sun cleared its self fully over the ridge of the mountains.
The splendor of the Elven art and science could be seen in every building, as it all seamlessly blended to gather complementing each other and at the same instance stood aloof and separate as if there were no other building that could compare to it. SheFi knew this sight she would miss the most.
This is no time for self-pity. She forced herself into action. She went to the bed and checked her sack. It contained two sets of traveling clothing, one heavy cloak, and a silver dagger that was more decorative then functional.
I still have no coin… I guess I can part with a few pieces of jewelry father has given me. Father why have you not come to see me? She forced herself not to dwell on it. SheFi spent most of her life growing up in the capital building. Begin the daughter of an Elder, she was pampered. Every thing she wanted was all ready bought and paid for and she had never felt any real need for coin.
She went to her desk and pulled a small chest out, which she carried over to her bed. SheFi opened the chest and dumped the contents on to it then sat down besides them. The large pile of treasure gleamed from the stray sunlight that spilled in through her window. The sunlight breathed life in to several pieces.
The first piece was a sagely blue dragon made of finely cut blue gems edged in gold. It spread its small wings and took to the air soaring high, and then softly floating down to her outstretched arm. It coiled its long tail several times around her arm then settled itself once more becoming solid. The next piece was shaped into the mighty griffin, fashioned of pure onyx and silver. It took a mighty leap and landed on her chest and wrapped its mighty wings around her neck forming an intricate chain that moved with her. It circled itself several times as a cat might then curled up and came to rest.
Thank you, my brave friends, for your sacrifice and the rest of you will be safe here. She reached out with her mind and touched each piece. Then carefully gathered them up and placed them pack into the chest and replaced it in her desk. I guess it is time. She went to the door took one last look at her room, and then stepped out into the hall. There, two capital soldiers waited patiently in their finest to escort her out of the Elven territories. One of the soldiers handed her a small bag.
"Your father wanted you to have this." She could hear the jingle of coins, for which she was grateful. She nodded her head and took the bag stuffing it away into her shoulder pack. They escorted her down the long halls out in to the courtyard. She braced herself, as was the custom when an Elf was exiled everyone would gather wordlessly and turn their backs on them as they went by. There was no one in sight.
She looked to one of the guards with a concerned look.
"Regardless of the death, we all know you do not deserve this and out of respect to your father and you they have stayed home to let you pass in peace in the hopes you will one day return."