| Subject: Remain in the Shadows |
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Swordslash
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Date Posted: 21:25:52 12/09/03 Tue
In reply to:
Swordslash
's message, "Sinistria: Remain in the Shadows" on 21:23:25 12/09/03 Tue
In the World of Eldin, there is a large Realm called Torathii. In this Realm, there is a small, obscure village near a river, where one of Eldin’s most beloved heroes grew up. This village is called Volindurien, or Falling Water. It was here Thriolil first started his adventure.
Thriolil lived with his mother, Ralidryn, and his father, Adweidion. Thriolil’s father was a great warrior who served under the besieged Crown of Torathii. He was the King Isiondyl’s most trusted warrior, and even the Queen Isiniara bowed her head as he passed by.
Lucky as it may sound to be Adweidion’s son, Thriolil found no comfort. He lived in a small village of humans. Thriolil was different. He had pointed ears. On the left ear was a small blue earring. He also showed no ill effects when cut or scratched. He had never once felt physical pain. He had never once seen the redness of his blood.
Thriolil hadn’t ever been very close to his father and mother. He often ran from the house to the small pond in the woods and would sit there staring into the water. It was on one such day that Thriolil noticed that he was different.
As Thriolil sat by the water’s edge that morning, he was staring in the water at his image, different from all the rest. He had long dark hair that fell to just below his shoulders. This was unlike the other men of the area, who had light brown or sandy blonde hair. He wore it in the style that men wore it in those days – a thin braid from the hair around his ear on each side, and one from the middle of the back of his head. They all joined together to make one braid. He had light green eyes that were thoughtful and dreamy.
At the moment, Thriolil was contemplating things that had never entered his head before.
“Why am I different? What makes me this way?” Ah, but you know the answer to that yourself, a small voice in his ear said.
Thriolil whipped his head around so fast that the world seemed to spin before him. “Who are you?”
I’m no one you need know about, said the little voice. I’m the smell on the breeze, and the thoughts (here Thriolil felt a small tap on his head) in your head. I’m your worst nightmares and your dream come true.
Thriolil backed up slowly until his back was against a rock. “Where are you? Show yourself!”
Thriolil heard a small whooshing noise and a girl appeared sitting on a rock. She had lively brown eyes and bouncy brown curls. Her ears were pointed too, and she also had an earring on one ear. She tumbled off the rock and strode over to him, her hand outstretched.
“Glyaela. What’s your name?”
“Thriolil…er… what are you doing here?”
“Exploring! I’m a shapeshifter.” She showed him her earring. “You are too.”
Thriolil was amazed. He put his hand to his ear and felt the little ring there. “I am? How come I never knew this before?”
Glyaela smiled and laughed, her brown eyes sparkling. “Because nobody ever told you, silly. Do you think they want a shapeshifter among them?”
Thriolil pondered this for a moment, and then asked, “How old are you?”
“For a youngling like you, you ask a lot of questions.”
“You’re the one who appeared in the first place. I want to know.”
Glyaela paused a moment. “There’s a lot you want to know, and a lot you don’t know. Do you want to find out?” Without waiting for an answer, she kept talking. “If I were you I’d use my powers to find out who my real parents were.”
“Real parents,” snapped Thriolil. “I have parents. Adweidion and Ralidryn.”
Glyaela seemed interested. “But how can mere humans be parents to a shapeshifter? You never thought of that, did you?”
Thriolil sat down, thoroughly bewildered. “If they aren’t my parents, then who is?”
“That’s for you to find out,” Glyaela replied. “But first, you should learn to use your powers. Think of something you want to become.”
Thriolil smiled. “I want to be the wind, too.”
“Then close your eyes and concentrate on the wind, and imagine yourself being one with it.”
Thriolil felt something move through his body, and then he opened his eyes. He was gone. He couldn’t see himself, but he felt himself. He knew that he was there. He moved forward as if he were swimming, only faster. He blew around Glyaela’s head, whispering in her ear.
“Thank you, Glyaela. Thank you…” And he was gone, blowing through the trees. He knew that he could survive anywhere without food like this.
Glyaela heard him go, and shifted into an eagle. Far and fast she flew, until she reached a castle on a cliff, made of black stone that glimmered evilly even in the sunlight. She flew around the castle until she came to a tower, and flew in through the window. There she shifted into her girl form.
“It is done, my lord. Adweidion’s foster son is gone. The world is no longer strong. He is on his way to find his parentage, a quest that will take him a lifetime. Your way is free. You have only to claim the throne from your King. Do this while he is weak.”
Marrith the Sorcerer listened to Glyaela, and then smiled thinly. “You are wise, my friend. So the Heir of Adweidion is not an heir after all. He is of no matter.”
Glyaela shifted uncomfortably. “In this you are wrong, my lord. The boy has powers – not as much as some, but enough to be of some danger. He has less power than the aurora I spoke of to you yesterday. This aurora surrounds someone – who it is, I do not know. But this person possesses more power than the Great King himself.”
Marrith straitened. He was stiff, and his eyes radiated fear. “Do not speak of such a thing inside these walls! The boy is of no use to anyone.”
“Still I say that you get rid of him, or turn him to your own side. He is headed towards the Narrath. The Narrath, my lord, are wise and old race. If anyone knows of the boy’s destiny, it is the king of the Narrath. You must turn the boy to your side, my lord. He will only cause trouble if not.”
“You are right again, Glyaela. If he travels as fast as you say, he will be there by now. You must lie in wait outside the borders. There you will capture him.”
Glyaela bowed and left, going to do as she was bid.
* * *
Thriolil shifted into a fox, and bounded along the trail, making a swift pace. As night fell, he came upon a forest. Within, he saw lights and heard voices, and quickly shifted into his human form.
Wandering among the trees, Thriolil felt at ease. He became careless, making noise without realizing that he was being followed. The Narrath were like smoke on the breeze - silent and swift.
A knife was soon pressed against his throat, and he was brought to the King, who sat on a wooden throne. Around him stood courtiers and soldiers, all dressed richly, but simply. The King Mithralyn was garbed in deep green tunic, and because the others were dressed in lighter colors, he stood out. But not as much as the person next to him.
Beside him stood a young girl. She seemed too beautiful to be real. She had a thin face, with thick, glossy, raven black hair that fell to her elbows. It framed her, falling lightly and contrasting perfectly with her unblemished, china white skin. Her eyes were a soft grey like rain clouds, but their gaze was strong and steady. A flashing green gem was bound on her brow, and she was clothed in a simple white gown that was as pure as the first snow that falls in winter. She held his gaze, and a smile touched her face like the sun on a frosted field.
The King spoke. “Who are you and what are you doing in my lands?”
Thriolil tore his gaze away from the girl and answered hesitantly. “ I am… Thriolil, foster son of Adweidion.”
A murmur ran through the crowd. Mithralyn stood and looked Thriolil over. After a pause, he announced, “You wish to stay here?” He did not wait for an answer. “You are hidden by a cloud, I am undecided, and my eyes cannot see what I desire them to. Daughter, what say you?”
The silent girl glided forward, and stopped before him. She was a little bit shorter than he, yet she seemed taller than the tallest of trees. He looked down. A cold, white finger lifted his chin until he was looking her into her eyes.
“I am Aleathien, Princess of the Narrath and this realm, Kyrmai. Look at me, Thriolil, so that I may see if there is truth in your gaze.” Her voice was clear and cool. Her eyes searched him, and then she commanded softly, “Pull back your hair… from your left ear.”
Thriolil slowly did as he was bidden, revealing the small blue ring on his pointed ear. Her face was expressionless. “I may seem blunt, but am I right in saying that you have never seen the color of your blood, even when you have had cause to?” He nodded hesitantly. She took a deep breath, dropped her finger from his chin, and turned to face her father.
“This boy will not be harmed. He is the foster son of Adweidion. A descendant of the Evil Wight he may be, but he is a Narrath also. If he his hurt, so am I. This boy must be kept from all harm.” She turned to him. “How you came to be this way, I do not know. Adweidion never makes rash mistakes – he must have known who you were when he took you in. And he must have described the Narrath as the wisest and fairest of all races. We are not so wise, but we can help with what you seek. Find me some time in the garden, son of Adweidion, and we shall talk. There is much I should like to say.”
She turned and left him, a smile hovering on her lips.
The soldiers near him smiled. One whispered in his ear. “The lady holds you in her favor, boy. Think yourself lucky.” Thriolil grinned. He didn’t need prompting. Being given such attention by Aleathien made him feel like a king.
The next day Thriolil woke and, remembering Aleathien’s words, wandered in the garden until he found the girl. She motioned for him to walk beside her, and she began to talk.
“You realize you are out of the ordinary, do you not?”
“I think you are not so ordinary yourself, my lady.”
Aleathien stopped sharply. Thriolil watched her body quiver and tense. She turned her head, her voice dangerously soft when she spoke. “What makes you say that?”
Thriolil smiled at the reaction. “You seemed wise beyond your years when you spoke yesterday. You commanded the respect of every living thing in that room. You were kind to me – you saw something in my heart that others could not. I felt your gaze pierce my soul. To you, I was transparent. I think you possess the Magic.”
A thin strand of blue flame flashed from her fingers and disappeared. A wall of invisible power surrounded her. “No.”
Thriolil laughed. He felt the shield die down. “Now, that I do not believe. Take what I just said as an example – how many people can make fire flash from their fingers?”
“Why do you want to know this?”
He paused. “Because you can help me find what I want to know. If you have the Magic, which I assume you do, you must know things that others don’t.” Seeing she wasn’t moved, he tried another tactic. “Adweidion told me the shadow was rising in the East. He gave me this on my thirteenth birthday a few months ago,” he said, drawing a scroll out of his belt. “I was hoping you would know what it meant.”
At the mention of the shadow, Aleathien froze. With trembling hands, she took the scroll and unrolled it, looking over the contents. Then she handed it back, her eyes dark and troubled. He read it aloud.
Thirteen years of shadow and darkness,
A burning lantern lights the way.
For all of the innocent lives that were taken,
The maker of evil and death shall pay.
Wights and ageless ones, unite.
Fight under one banner again,
From out of all the tears and sadness,
A throne the homeless boy shall claim.
Aleathien of Kyrmai, fair.
Hair of raven, eyes of grey,
Clothed in white, shall lead the people,
To the dawning of the day.
And when all hope seems dark and worthless,
Bluefire shall burn for good and life.
And when all hope seems bright and shining,
They shall put an end to strife.
Aleathien was quiet. She turned to leave, not wanting to stay. Thriolil grabbed her sleeve. “Oh, wait a minute. I’m not finished with you.”
She tensed, turning slowly. Wrenching free of him, she drew herself up. Fury flashed in her eyes, and suddenly Thriolil was afraid. Thunder rumbled in the North. He trembled as she spoke.
“Do not try to make me do something I do not want to do, Thriolil. I am Aleathien of Kyrmai, and I go unchallenged.” She let the fury drain from her eyes, and the thunder stopped. “You wish for me to travel with you when you leave, this I know. I come of First Age in five years. Not so you. When you come of age at twenty-three, you have entered the world of adulthood. You also do not physically age any more. Neither will I when I reach Second Age. First Age is when I stand behind the throne and watch as men come in, offer a price for me, and then get rejected. I do nothing more for years, until my father finally finds someone who has offered enough for me. First Age is almost upon me. My father hardly lets me out of his sight. It is impossible for me to leave the city walls.”
Having said this, Aleathien turned away. Thriolil stood, openmouthed. “Use your Magic.”
She looked at him, sadness evident on her pretty face. “If I could travel with you, son of Adweidion, I would.” She left him then, and glided towards the palace.
Thriolil was escorted to the border the next morning by two cloaked figures. They were mute as they rode, and when they turned to go, Thriolil began to chatter to himself to fill the eerie silence. One of the figures said something in a strange language to the other, and rode towards him. When the other was out of sight, the rider removed its hood. Aleathien smiled at him, and motioned for Thriolil to ride on.
As they rode, Aleathien spoke of many things. She spoke of the sea, and the sky, and the stars. When she lapsed into silence, Thriolil would ask a question and she would launch into a full-fledged explanation or story, or description. They rode this way in peace for a while, until Aleathien began to speak again.
“Where are we riding to, Thriolil?”
“I don’t know.”
Aleathien turned to look at him, reigning in her black stallion. “What?” Her voice was sharp and on edge.
“I said, I don’t know.”
“So we’re just riding out into the unknown with winter almost upon us, with no warm clothing and only one of us knowing how to hunt? I’ll wager you’ve never had to hunt – Adweidion has always done it himself. What are you, crazy? We head for a city where nobody knows us – it’s the safest place to spend the winter.”
“I guess that’d be fine, but…”
Aleathien’s laugh was humorless. “But what? That’s what we do – we’ll have to give them another name… But we’re not close enough to a city to think about that. We keep riding towards Manriel, that city in the Northwest. Far away from the shadow…”
“And far away from your father. Let’s go.” They both kept riding.
Aleathien kept silent until that night, and when dinner was over, promised to wake Thriolil at midnight so he could keep watch. She sat in the coming darkness, silent and sad. She thought of Mithralyn, and the rise and fall of Kyrmai. Suddenly she felt lonely. She began to speak to the night.
“Here I am, alone on my thirteenth birthday. I wish I had not agreed to do this. Thriolil does not need me - he can fend for himself. Why did I ever decide to come along?” She looked over at Thriolil, curled up on the ground by a tree. She laughed softly. “I lie to myself. I have done the right thing. I only worry about the shadow and it’s rising… what if Kyrmai needs me too? Where do my loyalties lie? Who will I protect then, when all is overcome and darkness is surely victorious?” She paused, and added in a whisper, “I will know when the time comes. Some light will come and show me the way.” She fell silent and woke Thriolil at midnight. Sleep closed her eyes.
Thriolil sat through his watch in silence, looking out into the woods, and his eyes sometimes resting on Aleathien’s face, pretty in repose. When he woke her in the morning, she seemed completely rested. He turned away. Suddenly a movement caught his eye. He looked over in Aleathien’s direction.
She was standing, back pressed against the tree, eyes wide with fear. Her breathing was shaky. She was looking east, towards the sun.
“What is it?” She didn’t answer. “What’s the matter?”
Aleathien lifted her chin defiantly, as if hearing voices nobody else could. She stepped forwards a few paces. Her voice was steady. “Get behind me, Thriolil.”
“You’re just a girl, I don’t take orders—”
“Get behind me.” He did so. Something in her voice told him not to disobey her. Her eyes were flashing now, full of fury and pride. Then a voice filled the clearing.
“Give up the boy, Bluefire.”
“No. He stays.”
“He is mine by right, Bluefire.”
“He is no one’s, least of all yours. Do you think I will let this boy out of my keeping? This realm needs him as he needs me! How far do you think you will get when you try to turn him?”
“I will succeed-”
“You will not touch him.”
The voice spoke no more. Instead, a wave of darkness swept over the sky. Aleathien brought up her shield, and blue light struggled with blackness. In the end, the sky was bright again, and all was as it had been before. Aleathien lay stretched out on the ground, unconscious and unmoving.
“No. Don’t die on me, Aleathien.” Then another voice filled the clearing, a different one this time. It was a woman’s voice, soft and kind.
“You fight bravely, little one. This name I give you – Tiger Lily. Aleathien Tiger Lily of Kyrmai is your name from now forward. You are as beautiful as the sunset and as fierce as the wind that howls in the storm. You know your destiny, Bluefire. This has been long in coming. My hand is on you – your path is a hard one. Keep fighting, Aleathien, and all that you wish for may come true. Your fate lies with he who loves you most. Remember, he who loves you most. You will know right from wrong when the time comes… this I promise. Goodbye, little one, until our next meeting.”
Aleathien stirred slightly and settled into normal sleep. She sighed lightly and smiled. Thriolil was relieved. Then the same voice came again.
“Have faith in her, Thriolil. She is not what she seems. Hard times she has passed through, more than most. Trust her when she asks it of you – she will not lead you astray.”
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