12 August 725
Today was a marvelously warm summer day, blessed with sunshine and an air of peace that belied the crisis in the world beyond my view. I had spent the blissful afternoon with my dear Ivy; in an open meadow by the stream that ran through the heart of the forest proper. We had taken a light meal of fruits, cheese, and fresh-baked breads; enjoying them by the water’s edge as the lazy day meandered by.
I wondered at Ivy’s radiant beauty and majestic spirit, as she sat by the stream, her feet dangling in the cool clear water. Images from early, happier times flooded my mind – of summer afternoons spent with Mother and Ivy in just such a setting. How much like Mother she had become, seemingly so fragile and yet possessed of that same quiet determination to manage the world about her.
She was, as ever, surrounded by her personal menagerie of forest and meadow creatures – a squirrel, two chipmunks and various birds (including a rather large brown owl that perched precariously on the thin, swaying branch of a small birch nearby). Even the fish in the stream seemed to circle happily about her feet, capering in the cool stream. She carried on a running conversation with this captive audience, which responded with chittering and chattering and melodic bird songs that filled the very air around us. I do not know if she knew I was observing her, in my quiet fascination. Had she known, I am certain it would have brought that predictably sweet, unselfish smile of amusement.
We had spent many long and peaceful years here, in the shelter of the Greatwood Forest under the care of the Fae and our People. Since our dramatic arrival at Tal Rilma, after the battle with the Wargs near the entrance to the Forest, we had found a quiet refuge from the troubles of the world – and the ever-searching eye of Nargoroth. There was no denying the greater plight and the threat that still loomed for us, despite the seeming peace of this sylvan sanctuary. Lord Andelmir, my friend and protector, had fallen to an ambush by Warg-riding orcs while patrolling the same northern entrance to the Forest – the Meadow now revered as Andelmir’s Glen.
Over the years, our People had streamed in from all points of exile in the woodlands about us. Many told tales of Nargoroth’s armies as they spread their power into the world. All of Brithillien, in the north, had fallen under his sway. It was only a matter of time until the terror came once more to our doorstep; and I sensed the time was near for us to prepare to resist the evil force descending on all good peoples of the world. Such thoughts were never far from my mind, even on afternoons of quiet repose such as this.
I had learned that Ivy had arrived at Greatwood only weeks before me, having fled Brithillien as the dark shadow fell upon that land. Andelmir had been her escort, spiriting her away under cover of night just before a raiding party sent by Nargoroth had found them. With her, on the southward journey, came Elëanil, our mother’s sister, who had joined Ivy in exile there – the very same aunt of whom Myrrdin had spoken, whose knowledge of Coia’lia was said to approach the practitioners of old. Elëanil had found an ardent student in Ivy, whose aptitude with small creatures had been evident from her earliest days. Ivy fell under Elëanil’s tutelage, who taught all that she knew of the Coialambe, the “living tongue” common to all that lived upon the earth.
My thoughts wandered, from the sublime scene of Ivy and her animals to the grimmer implications of this power – and how it would inevitably draw Nargoroth, whose quest for power would know no limits. I worried for Ivy, for myself – and more, for the People entrusted to my care – if we were not able to keep this gift from his clutching grasp. A flurry of images assaulted my mind, and in its wake confusion about what path to pursue. I thought of Father, and wished he were here to guide me…or better, to take this burden from me and lead his People forward to their proper destiny. I felt, not for the first time, unworthy to complete this task in his absence.
A voice roused me from these anxious musings, and I turned to see Calliope – the niece of Lady Rowenna d’Noir – who had come with Ivy to Greatwood and now tended to me as a handmaiden unrivaled in her devotion. I smiled, and extended my hand; and she came forward and said, simply: “My Lady…Lord Darius sends word that visitors approach the North Gate; and he asks that you come at once.”
I wondered at Ivy’s radiant beauty and majestic spirit, as she sat by the stream, her feet dangling in the cool clear water. Images from early, happier times flooded my mind – of summer afternoons spent with Mother and Ivy in just such a setting. How much like Mother she had become, seemingly so fragile and yet possessed of that same quiet determination to manage the world about her.
She was, as ever, surrounded by her personal menagerie of forest and meadow creatures – a squirrel, two chipmunks and various birds (including a rather large brown owl that perched precariously on the thin, swaying branch of a small birch nearby). Even the fish in the stream seemed to circle happily about her feet, capering in the cool stream. She carried on a running conversation with this captive audience, which responded with chittering and chattering and melodic bird songs that filled the very air around us. I do not know if she knew I was observing her, in my quiet fascination. Had she known, I am certain it would have brought that predictably sweet, unselfish smile of amusement.
We had spent many long and peaceful years here, in the shelter of the Greatwood Forest under the care of the Fae and our People. Since our dramatic arrival at Tal Rilma, after the battle with the Wargs near the entrance to the Forest, we had found a quiet refuge from the troubles of the world – and the ever-searching eye of Nargoroth. There was no denying the greater plight and the threat that still loomed for us, despite the seeming peace of this sylvan sanctuary. Lord Andelmir, my friend and protector, had fallen to an ambush by Warg-riding orcs while patrolling the same northern entrance to the Forest – the Meadow now revered as Andelmir’s Glen.
Over the years, our People had streamed in from all points of exile in the woodlands about us. Many told tales of Nargoroth’s armies as they spread their power into the world. All of Brithillien, in the north, had fallen under his sway. It was only a matter of time until the terror came once more to our doorstep; and I sensed the time was near for us to prepare to resist the evil force descending on all good peoples of the world. Such thoughts were never far from my mind, even on afternoons of quiet repose such as this.
I had learned that Ivy had arrived at Greatwood only weeks before me, having fled Brithillien as the dark shadow fell upon that land. Andelmir had been her escort, spiriting her away under cover of night just before a raiding party sent by Nargoroth had found them. With her, on the southward journey, came Elëanil, our mother’s sister, who had joined Ivy in exile there – the very same aunt of whom Myrrdin had spoken, whose knowledge of Coia’lia was said to approach the practitioners of old. Elëanil had found an ardent student in Ivy, whose aptitude with small creatures had been evident from her earliest days. Ivy fell under Elëanil’s tutelage, who taught all that she knew of the Coialambe, the “living tongue” common to all that lived upon the earth.
My thoughts wandered, from the sublime scene of Ivy and her animals to the grimmer implications of this power – and how it would inevitably draw Nargoroth, whose quest for power would know no limits. I worried for Ivy, for myself – and more, for the People entrusted to my care – if we were not able to keep this gift from his clutching grasp. A flurry of images assaulted my mind, and in its wake confusion about what path to pursue. I thought of Father, and wished he were here to guide me…or better, to take this burden from me and lead his People forward to their proper destiny. I felt, not for the first time, unworthy to complete this task in his absence.
A voice roused me from these anxious musings, and I turned to see Calliope – the niece of Lady Rowenna d’Noir – who had come with Ivy to Greatwood and now tended to me as a handmaiden unrivaled in her devotion. I smiled, and extended my hand; and she came forward and said, simply: “My Lady…Lord Darius sends word that visitors approach the North Gate; and he asks that you come at once.”
*********
The main hall at Tal Rilma was simple, consisting of a formal reception area – where Lord Carandon, Elf Lord of the Southern Sylvans, often greeted visitors; and a side room with a large oaken table that was used for small, intimate meetings. Calliope led us there, Ivy trailing slightly behind still chattering brightly to the two field mice she held in the palm of her hand. The mice slipped from view, disappearing into a pocket of her wrap, as we entered the anteroom.
Carandon was there, his white hair pulled back and his rustic attire suggesting he had been called back from one of his customary sojourns in the wood. Darius sat to his right, both facing the entry door, and rose as we entered to greet us. Two others sat opposite them, with their backs to the door; and they rose and turned as well. I felt my face flush in surprise; and then yield to a delighted smile as my eyes fell upon the man to my right.
“Master Myrrdin”, I said, offering my hand into his warm embrace. “It is long since I looked into those eyes; and yet the memory is fresh and warm as if it were but an hour past. You are most welcome in our presence, Sir!”
His stunning azure eyes gleamed brightly, glimmering like sunlight on the open sea. But those familiar eyes now shone forth from a face that was younger…unmarked…with the bronzed look of a healthy young lord accustomed to living out of doors. A thick mane of golden hair framed his face; and I realized that I was looking at the face that had peeked out from behind the wizened façade of the Myrrdin we had met that fateful day in the wild. I stared, too long, wondering at his transformation; and his eyes held mine in a slightly amused way, acknowledging the effect his appearance had on me. Young or old, I was happy to see him again; and I knew his coming must mark matters of great import.
“Lady Comet”, he said, his soft voice seeming to stir and warm the air around us. “It is well to see you again after all this time. As I ever knew, the daughter of Eyrturheru has grown to womanhood, and bears in this world his stature and grace. And here is Ivy as well, in the image of her mother and her mother’s mother before her. To see you here together, kindling the hopes of all the Sylvan People, is to see destiny fulfilled.”
I saw Ivy curtsy, respectful but modest in her normal way, and saw her eyes washing over Myrrdin and his companion. She smiled, but did not speak; and I knew that her focused gaze took them in, just as one might view a new curiosity in nature. I stepped back from Myrrdin and said “Thank you, Lord Myrrdin...you are too kind to us. And I am sorry, but in our joy of meeting once more, we seem to have ignored our other guest.”
“Ah yes, Milady”, said Myrrdin, blushing. “Where are my manners? Lady Comet, Lady Ivy…I am honored to present my dear friend, Kaerum K’aerunis, comes with me from the furthest reaches of the Northlands. His name may be known to you, for he is cousin to Athanor and was made, by his hand, to be High Priest of all the realms of the old Sylvan North. He made fast the hands of your grandmother, Lindelea, and King Falanir; and has long been steward of the line of the House of Athanor. He comes now to this moment in history, to once more bring service to that House.”
I bowed my head and curtsied as I extended my hand to the High Priest, and saw Ivy do the same. The ancient Lord took my hand, and I nearly recoiled involuntarily at the coolness of his touch. He revealed no emotion, but his eyes went blank for a moment and the heavy lids fluttered almost imperceptibly as he held my hand; and I felt something – like a whisper – pass between us…or rather from me to him. I shuddered in mild revulsion – and found, instinctively, that I did not much like this man. I was glad when he relinquished custody of my hand.
“Lady Comet”, he said, his voice steady and confident but lacking any real warmth or resonance. He spoke with an oily, self-important quality: “You need not bow to me, for I am but a servant of the People…and you their born Queen. I am here for only one purpose, Milady. The hour nears when the Queen must come forth from whence the young Lady once stood; and assume the mantle of her People’s destiny. All of history points us to that moment; and the events of the world push us forward at perilous speed.”
I listened carefully, and looked in puzzlement at Myrrdin, whose smile was a perfect counterweight to the High Priest’s scowl. I turned to my Guardian, sitting silently at the table; and saw that look of mischievous amusement he wore whenever I did something silly. “I know and fear that look, Lord Darius; and know that you are dying to tell what all but I may see. Speak it now…or I shall do you harm!”, I said, laughing.
He smiled, the look turning from amusement to joy, and said “The wheel turns, Milady. November 4th…your birthday. You will reach your majority; and so, on that day, will you be christened Queen of your People. Your father would be most proud.”
Carandon was there, his white hair pulled back and his rustic attire suggesting he had been called back from one of his customary sojourns in the wood. Darius sat to his right, both facing the entry door, and rose as we entered to greet us. Two others sat opposite them, with their backs to the door; and they rose and turned as well. I felt my face flush in surprise; and then yield to a delighted smile as my eyes fell upon the man to my right.
“Master Myrrdin”, I said, offering my hand into his warm embrace. “It is long since I looked into those eyes; and yet the memory is fresh and warm as if it were but an hour past. You are most welcome in our presence, Sir!”
His stunning azure eyes gleamed brightly, glimmering like sunlight on the open sea. But those familiar eyes now shone forth from a face that was younger…unmarked…with the bronzed look of a healthy young lord accustomed to living out of doors. A thick mane of golden hair framed his face; and I realized that I was looking at the face that had peeked out from behind the wizened façade of the Myrrdin we had met that fateful day in the wild. I stared, too long, wondering at his transformation; and his eyes held mine in a slightly amused way, acknowledging the effect his appearance had on me. Young or old, I was happy to see him again; and I knew his coming must mark matters of great import.
“Lady Comet”, he said, his soft voice seeming to stir and warm the air around us. “It is well to see you again after all this time. As I ever knew, the daughter of Eyrturheru has grown to womanhood, and bears in this world his stature and grace. And here is Ivy as well, in the image of her mother and her mother’s mother before her. To see you here together, kindling the hopes of all the Sylvan People, is to see destiny fulfilled.”
I saw Ivy curtsy, respectful but modest in her normal way, and saw her eyes washing over Myrrdin and his companion. She smiled, but did not speak; and I knew that her focused gaze took them in, just as one might view a new curiosity in nature. I stepped back from Myrrdin and said “Thank you, Lord Myrrdin...you are too kind to us. And I am sorry, but in our joy of meeting once more, we seem to have ignored our other guest.”
“Ah yes, Milady”, said Myrrdin, blushing. “Where are my manners? Lady Comet, Lady Ivy…I am honored to present my dear friend, Kaerum K’aerunis, comes with me from the furthest reaches of the Northlands. His name may be known to you, for he is cousin to Athanor and was made, by his hand, to be High Priest of all the realms of the old Sylvan North. He made fast the hands of your grandmother, Lindelea, and King Falanir; and has long been steward of the line of the House of Athanor. He comes now to this moment in history, to once more bring service to that House.”
I bowed my head and curtsied as I extended my hand to the High Priest, and saw Ivy do the same. The ancient Lord took my hand, and I nearly recoiled involuntarily at the coolness of his touch. He revealed no emotion, but his eyes went blank for a moment and the heavy lids fluttered almost imperceptibly as he held my hand; and I felt something – like a whisper – pass between us…or rather from me to him. I shuddered in mild revulsion – and found, instinctively, that I did not much like this man. I was glad when he relinquished custody of my hand.
“Lady Comet”, he said, his voice steady and confident but lacking any real warmth or resonance. He spoke with an oily, self-important quality: “You need not bow to me, for I am but a servant of the People…and you their born Queen. I am here for only one purpose, Milady. The hour nears when the Queen must come forth from whence the young Lady once stood; and assume the mantle of her People’s destiny. All of history points us to that moment; and the events of the world push us forward at perilous speed.”
I listened carefully, and looked in puzzlement at Myrrdin, whose smile was a perfect counterweight to the High Priest’s scowl. I turned to my Guardian, sitting silently at the table; and saw that look of mischievous amusement he wore whenever I did something silly. “I know and fear that look, Lord Darius; and know that you are dying to tell what all but I may see. Speak it now…or I shall do you harm!”, I said, laughing.
He smiled, the look turning from amusement to joy, and said “The wheel turns, Milady. November 4th…your birthday. You will reach your majority; and so, on that day, will you be christened Queen of your People. Your father would be most proud.”
***********************
3 November 725
I knew, from my earliest days, that mine would be a life of duty and sacrifice. I accepted it…even embraced it most of the time. Father teased me about it, when I was a girl…before the troubles came upon us. He would say “My dear Comet...my woman child. None could look at your face and doubt your will, or your sincerity. They will see you as a serious, even formidable person; and your gravitas will touch each person you meet. My only wish for you, beloved daughter, is that you might know joy as well.”
I sighed, thinking of him, wishing for the thousandth time that he was here to carry this burden. I looked at myself in the mirror, standing there in what would be my coronation gown – the shimmering silver and ebony of the fabric seeming to glow of its own light (not uncommon with clothing made by the fae, I found). The face I saw there was that of a young elven maiden, just entering her majority at 150 years old. But the eyes seemed eons older, already having seen too much; and yet knowing that the real challenges had only just begun. When, Father? ,I thought. When will I have the time to know joy?
My thought broke as I heard a soft giggle behind me, followed by its shrill echo. I rolled my eyes, but could not hold back the smile, turning to see Ivy and her omnipresent companion, Calliope, watching me as I looked in the glass. “Oh stop fussing, Comet”, said Ivy, her voice taking on its most melodramatic air. “You will be stunning – as ALWAYS – and properly unapproachable for any admirer who might wish a closer look. A classic figure carved in alabaster, and just about as pliant. Oh woe unto that poor suitor who tries to claim the hand of the once and future Queen of the Sylvan Elves.” At that, the two burst into their contagious giggling.
I tried to glare at Ivy, to pierce her cheery façade with a withering look of disapproval…but it was for naught. I loved her so dearly…and felt her love in return…that it was just impossible for me to get angry with her. Instead, I rolled my eyes yet again, laughed, and asked, with a sniff: “Do you come to the Queen’s Chambers merely to torment her? For, if so, we have remedies that my dear Guardian, or the axeman, might offer you. If not, then kindly state your purposes or leave our exalted presence!”
As expected, their laughter was now out of control, until tears fell from their eyes and they were breathless to speak. Yes, the “Queenly bearing” act always brought them to their knees, I thought. I only wish it were so easy to have a similar effect on the forces that plagued my People.
Ivy slowly regained her composure. She wiped away a last tear, and said: “In truth, beloved sister, you do have a visitor seeking an audience in these chambers. Master Myrrdin has asked to speak with you…and to do so in privacy. She raised one eyebrow, quizzically, and I knew her thoughts were as mine: Odd that Myrrdin would come alone, free of his constant companion, Lord Kaerum. A private meeting, in chambers?
I looked at Calliope with a level gaze, the mirth now gone from my voice. “Calliope, bring Master Myrrdin here at once, and then I ask that you leave us to our privacy. Go now, make haste!” This last command came too curt – a dismissal. I saw Ivy’s face redden, and knew that I would need apologize later. But I also knew that she – my sister, best friend and confidant – would appreciate well the burden I bore. They turned and left the room, and I turned to the table by the broad window to await my guest.
A moment later, I heard a firm knock on the door of the outer chamber. “Come”, I said, and immediately heard the door creak open, followed by the sound of boots crossing the stone floor. A figure in brown traveling clothes and a worn grey cloak appeared in the doorway – the brilliance of his luminous, golden hair and sun-kissed features in shock contrast to the drab attire that was his milieu. I extended my hand, and he strode forward, kissed it politely and bowed modestly before uttering, simply: “Lady Comet”.
“Master Myrrdin” I said, too stiffly perhaps, in return. “I am ever so pleased to see you again. How have you enjoyed your stay here in Greatwood? Restful, I trust?”
He looked at me with that same intelligent, half-smiling expression that always suggested he knew more than he would ever say. “A pleasant stay, Milady”, he replied. “There is a rare stillness in this land amidst the turmoil of the land about. It is a quiet reserve in a disquieted world; and yet, for my part, my time has not been restful. It is a watchful time, and so have I been on the frontier – watching and listening for what must come.”
Myrrdin’s words alarmed me, despite his usual cryptic tone. I gestured to the table by the windows and bade him to sit with me. I tried to lighten the mood a little by saying: “Interesting that you speak of watchfulness; and yet your watcher is not in evidence. How is it you came to me without your faithful escort?”
He smiled as he pulled back the chair for me to sit, and said: “Ah, yes…Lord Kaerum. It seems my horse found its spirits on our ride back from the North Gate, and chose to run on. I must not be much of a horseman, for there was little I could do to slow him once he took his head. But poor Lord Kaerum seemed even more challenged in his horsemanship; for when last I saw him, several of our party were helping him from the brambles into which he had been thrown. I suspect it will not be long before he has rejoined us; so perhaps it would be wise if we began.”
I nodded, and sat silently to encourage him to speak without diversion. He talked at length about the goings-on out in the world – of great battles and minor treacheries; of cities bravely defended and townships and villages lost. While it seemed a balance of good news and bad, it became clear that Nargoroth was on the move…pushing forth the darkness in his unrelenting drive for domination. “He acts with an iron will and a singular mind to have his way, Lady Comet. And while the resistance against him stands firm and brave, we are divided…our greatest weakness playing to his greatest strength.”
He paused for a moment, gazing out the window as if he were unable to continue. I reached over and grasped his hand, saying “Speak, Myrrdin…for our time is short and our peril grave. I must know your counsel in this, and I bid you say what must be said.”
He nodded grimly and said “Your Father believed in the prophecies and so, in a sense, became a prophet in his own right. He saw clearly that we would arrive at a day in history when all the forces would align to determine the Fate of his People. That day, long awaited has come.” His voice trailed off, and I squeezed his hand to urge him on. “You will assume the mantle of the People, Milady, and be the heir to Eyrturheru that you were ever meant to be…and your life will no longer be your own. The Queen of the Sylvan Elves will step forward to challenge the will of Nargoroth. To do so, you must leave behind the life you have known.”
The look of sadness in his eyes was profound, and I felt an ironic need to comfort him. I took his hand between mine and said “Dear Myrrdin. I have long accepted this call to duty as my destiny. I could no sooner avoid it than another could avoid drawing breath. I am ready for whatever Fate has in store for me – in that, I am the daughter of the King. So grieve not for my life, dear friend. Willingly do I step forward – to do what I must to deliver my people from this affliction.”
He looked up, smiling, and held my gaze. But the smile did not touch his eyes, where the sadness sat undiminished. “Comet”, he said, surprising me with his sudden informality. “I doubt not the strength of your heart, or your will. My sadness is for the price you will pay for them, for there will be no quarter, and no delay. The enemy is here, at Greatwood; and the blow will fall hard and fast upon the coming of the Queen. There is no harbor here for you any longer. You will need leave at once, to begin your work. I cannot urge this upon you with any more vigor to mark the seriousness of my words.”
I looked at him, in modest shock…but not surprise. I merely nodded, and my lips moved to whisper the name: “Kaerum. I knew it at first glance. There is something not quite right with him. Something ominous…threatening.”
He nodded, his jaw tightening. “He was once as good and loyal a minister to your father, and your father’s fathers, as any one might find. But the shadow of doubt has bled into his heart, and he has fallen under the influence of a new Master. In the weeks since our arrival, he has been about his work; and his trap is to be sprung tomorrow. He would strike as soon as the Sylvan crown has been set upon your head. He will try to take you, and Ivy; or failing that, to ensure that the heirs to Eyrturheru never leave this place. He has lost his way, and will stop at nothing to see it done.”
I rose, and walked to the window; and looked out over the forest. The serenity of the wood called to me; and a voice screamed in my head to cast off this burden and flee into the safety of the deepest forest reaches. But this was whimsy; and I knew that there was no choice but to move along the path on which the Fates had placed me. I turned back to Myrrdin, and said: “There is but one path for me, good Father; and tomorrow, I set forth along that road. I do not know the way, and will rely on your counsel; and that of Carandon, and my beloved Guardian; and others of good heart and loyal mind who might serve the interests of my People. What counsel do you bring, Myrrdin?”
He rose, and joined me by the window – close enough to speak, not quite in a whisper meant to avoid the idle ear. “Kaerum will not succeed. There are enough whose loyalty and love of their Queen will turn the tide of his treachery. Darius, and Lord Carandon and others, have undone his plans – though this the fallen priest does not yet suspect. But the damage will be done, and the safety of Greatwood will be compromised. Nargoroth’s eye is upon the place; and his wrath will know no bounds. He will strike with stunning speed and force; and you must be far from it when the hammer falls.”
He paused a moment, his gaze and thoughts drifting out over the wood. “Carandon and his army will take you, and Lady Ivy, and travel south and west to the Drow lands. Your aunt, Elëanil, must go as well – for none of the mother line must remain within reach of Nargoroth’s clutching hand. There must you seek out the House of Qu’ellar Vil’rath. Malikith Virtanen is Master there; and he rules it as a god on earth. He is proud and fierce, and his place amongst the Drow of Ellistraee is legend. But his wisdom is even greater than his ferocity; and he will use both to their fullest to defy Nargoroth to his dying breath. Lord Malikith is expecting your arrival in his lands, Comet; and he will extend the protection of is realm and his people to you. He is no stranger to the House of Eyrturheru. Your cousin, Loren, daughter of Lirimaël, has come from Durohn and is already there under his stewardship. The joining of the two great houses will be the cornerstone of a grand alliance against Nargoroth, who will do all in his power to see that it never comes to pass. You must go with speed; and build this bond with Malikith. Nothing is more vital to the greater purposes you each have sworn.”
I understood at once the counsel I was given, and accepted it without question. I had no illusions about the Drow – dark elves whose reputation for malice amongst the Sylvan People was generally well-earned. The prejudices would be deep, and the challenges of such an alliance would be great. But I knew that the vision of Malikith – and the growing threat to the world we shared – would weave the Fates of the two houses tightly together. “I take this counsel, Myrrdin. I must seek out my Guardian and tell him to prepare for our journey. There is much to do if we are to accompany Lord Carandon on such a swift and hazardous journey; and Darius must make ready to go.”
Myrrdin turned away, evading my eyes. I saw the grey mask of sadness descend again, driving the luminosity from his face. He spoke slowly, his voice flat and devoid of emotion: “Yes, Comet. Speak to Darius at once. But know that he must take another road. He has done what your father charged him to do – and tomorrow, with the coming of the Queen, her Guardian must turn his eyes to other callings. It is…the only way.”
He would say no more, I knew. And the hammering of a heavy hand upon the chamber door told me our audience was at an end. “Come”, I called, and the door flew open to admit Kaerum K’aerunis, who entered quickly, face red from exertion and anger. “Welcome, Lord Kaerum…you are just in time”, I said. “Master Myrrdin and I have only now begun to discuss the ceremonies of the morrow.”
I sighed, thinking of him, wishing for the thousandth time that he was here to carry this burden. I looked at myself in the mirror, standing there in what would be my coronation gown – the shimmering silver and ebony of the fabric seeming to glow of its own light (not uncommon with clothing made by the fae, I found). The face I saw there was that of a young elven maiden, just entering her majority at 150 years old. But the eyes seemed eons older, already having seen too much; and yet knowing that the real challenges had only just begun. When, Father? ,I thought. When will I have the time to know joy?
My thought broke as I heard a soft giggle behind me, followed by its shrill echo. I rolled my eyes, but could not hold back the smile, turning to see Ivy and her omnipresent companion, Calliope, watching me as I looked in the glass. “Oh stop fussing, Comet”, said Ivy, her voice taking on its most melodramatic air. “You will be stunning – as ALWAYS – and properly unapproachable for any admirer who might wish a closer look. A classic figure carved in alabaster, and just about as pliant. Oh woe unto that poor suitor who tries to claim the hand of the once and future Queen of the Sylvan Elves.” At that, the two burst into their contagious giggling.
I tried to glare at Ivy, to pierce her cheery façade with a withering look of disapproval…but it was for naught. I loved her so dearly…and felt her love in return…that it was just impossible for me to get angry with her. Instead, I rolled my eyes yet again, laughed, and asked, with a sniff: “Do you come to the Queen’s Chambers merely to torment her? For, if so, we have remedies that my dear Guardian, or the axeman, might offer you. If not, then kindly state your purposes or leave our exalted presence!”
As expected, their laughter was now out of control, until tears fell from their eyes and they were breathless to speak. Yes, the “Queenly bearing” act always brought them to their knees, I thought. I only wish it were so easy to have a similar effect on the forces that plagued my People.
Ivy slowly regained her composure. She wiped away a last tear, and said: “In truth, beloved sister, you do have a visitor seeking an audience in these chambers. Master Myrrdin has asked to speak with you…and to do so in privacy. She raised one eyebrow, quizzically, and I knew her thoughts were as mine: Odd that Myrrdin would come alone, free of his constant companion, Lord Kaerum. A private meeting, in chambers?
I looked at Calliope with a level gaze, the mirth now gone from my voice. “Calliope, bring Master Myrrdin here at once, and then I ask that you leave us to our privacy. Go now, make haste!” This last command came too curt – a dismissal. I saw Ivy’s face redden, and knew that I would need apologize later. But I also knew that she – my sister, best friend and confidant – would appreciate well the burden I bore. They turned and left the room, and I turned to the table by the broad window to await my guest.
A moment later, I heard a firm knock on the door of the outer chamber. “Come”, I said, and immediately heard the door creak open, followed by the sound of boots crossing the stone floor. A figure in brown traveling clothes and a worn grey cloak appeared in the doorway – the brilliance of his luminous, golden hair and sun-kissed features in shock contrast to the drab attire that was his milieu. I extended my hand, and he strode forward, kissed it politely and bowed modestly before uttering, simply: “Lady Comet”.
“Master Myrrdin” I said, too stiffly perhaps, in return. “I am ever so pleased to see you again. How have you enjoyed your stay here in Greatwood? Restful, I trust?”
He looked at me with that same intelligent, half-smiling expression that always suggested he knew more than he would ever say. “A pleasant stay, Milady”, he replied. “There is a rare stillness in this land amidst the turmoil of the land about. It is a quiet reserve in a disquieted world; and yet, for my part, my time has not been restful. It is a watchful time, and so have I been on the frontier – watching and listening for what must come.”
Myrrdin’s words alarmed me, despite his usual cryptic tone. I gestured to the table by the windows and bade him to sit with me. I tried to lighten the mood a little by saying: “Interesting that you speak of watchfulness; and yet your watcher is not in evidence. How is it you came to me without your faithful escort?”
He smiled as he pulled back the chair for me to sit, and said: “Ah, yes…Lord Kaerum. It seems my horse found its spirits on our ride back from the North Gate, and chose to run on. I must not be much of a horseman, for there was little I could do to slow him once he took his head. But poor Lord Kaerum seemed even more challenged in his horsemanship; for when last I saw him, several of our party were helping him from the brambles into which he had been thrown. I suspect it will not be long before he has rejoined us; so perhaps it would be wise if we began.”
I nodded, and sat silently to encourage him to speak without diversion. He talked at length about the goings-on out in the world – of great battles and minor treacheries; of cities bravely defended and townships and villages lost. While it seemed a balance of good news and bad, it became clear that Nargoroth was on the move…pushing forth the darkness in his unrelenting drive for domination. “He acts with an iron will and a singular mind to have his way, Lady Comet. And while the resistance against him stands firm and brave, we are divided…our greatest weakness playing to his greatest strength.”
He paused for a moment, gazing out the window as if he were unable to continue. I reached over and grasped his hand, saying “Speak, Myrrdin…for our time is short and our peril grave. I must know your counsel in this, and I bid you say what must be said.”
He nodded grimly and said “Your Father believed in the prophecies and so, in a sense, became a prophet in his own right. He saw clearly that we would arrive at a day in history when all the forces would align to determine the Fate of his People. That day, long awaited has come.” His voice trailed off, and I squeezed his hand to urge him on. “You will assume the mantle of the People, Milady, and be the heir to Eyrturheru that you were ever meant to be…and your life will no longer be your own. The Queen of the Sylvan Elves will step forward to challenge the will of Nargoroth. To do so, you must leave behind the life you have known.”
The look of sadness in his eyes was profound, and I felt an ironic need to comfort him. I took his hand between mine and said “Dear Myrrdin. I have long accepted this call to duty as my destiny. I could no sooner avoid it than another could avoid drawing breath. I am ready for whatever Fate has in store for me – in that, I am the daughter of the King. So grieve not for my life, dear friend. Willingly do I step forward – to do what I must to deliver my people from this affliction.”
He looked up, smiling, and held my gaze. But the smile did not touch his eyes, where the sadness sat undiminished. “Comet”, he said, surprising me with his sudden informality. “I doubt not the strength of your heart, or your will. My sadness is for the price you will pay for them, for there will be no quarter, and no delay. The enemy is here, at Greatwood; and the blow will fall hard and fast upon the coming of the Queen. There is no harbor here for you any longer. You will need leave at once, to begin your work. I cannot urge this upon you with any more vigor to mark the seriousness of my words.”
I looked at him, in modest shock…but not surprise. I merely nodded, and my lips moved to whisper the name: “Kaerum. I knew it at first glance. There is something not quite right with him. Something ominous…threatening.”
He nodded, his jaw tightening. “He was once as good and loyal a minister to your father, and your father’s fathers, as any one might find. But the shadow of doubt has bled into his heart, and he has fallen under the influence of a new Master. In the weeks since our arrival, he has been about his work; and his trap is to be sprung tomorrow. He would strike as soon as the Sylvan crown has been set upon your head. He will try to take you, and Ivy; or failing that, to ensure that the heirs to Eyrturheru never leave this place. He has lost his way, and will stop at nothing to see it done.”
I rose, and walked to the window; and looked out over the forest. The serenity of the wood called to me; and a voice screamed in my head to cast off this burden and flee into the safety of the deepest forest reaches. But this was whimsy; and I knew that there was no choice but to move along the path on which the Fates had placed me. I turned back to Myrrdin, and said: “There is but one path for me, good Father; and tomorrow, I set forth along that road. I do not know the way, and will rely on your counsel; and that of Carandon, and my beloved Guardian; and others of good heart and loyal mind who might serve the interests of my People. What counsel do you bring, Myrrdin?”
He rose, and joined me by the window – close enough to speak, not quite in a whisper meant to avoid the idle ear. “Kaerum will not succeed. There are enough whose loyalty and love of their Queen will turn the tide of his treachery. Darius, and Lord Carandon and others, have undone his plans – though this the fallen priest does not yet suspect. But the damage will be done, and the safety of Greatwood will be compromised. Nargoroth’s eye is upon the place; and his wrath will know no bounds. He will strike with stunning speed and force; and you must be far from it when the hammer falls.”
He paused a moment, his gaze and thoughts drifting out over the wood. “Carandon and his army will take you, and Lady Ivy, and travel south and west to the Drow lands. Your aunt, Elëanil, must go as well – for none of the mother line must remain within reach of Nargoroth’s clutching hand. There must you seek out the House of Qu’ellar Vil’rath. Malikith Virtanen is Master there; and he rules it as a god on earth. He is proud and fierce, and his place amongst the Drow of Ellistraee is legend. But his wisdom is even greater than his ferocity; and he will use both to their fullest to defy Nargoroth to his dying breath. Lord Malikith is expecting your arrival in his lands, Comet; and he will extend the protection of is realm and his people to you. He is no stranger to the House of Eyrturheru. Your cousin, Loren, daughter of Lirimaël, has come from Durohn and is already there under his stewardship. The joining of the two great houses will be the cornerstone of a grand alliance against Nargoroth, who will do all in his power to see that it never comes to pass. You must go with speed; and build this bond with Malikith. Nothing is more vital to the greater purposes you each have sworn.”
I understood at once the counsel I was given, and accepted it without question. I had no illusions about the Drow – dark elves whose reputation for malice amongst the Sylvan People was generally well-earned. The prejudices would be deep, and the challenges of such an alliance would be great. But I knew that the vision of Malikith – and the growing threat to the world we shared – would weave the Fates of the two houses tightly together. “I take this counsel, Myrrdin. I must seek out my Guardian and tell him to prepare for our journey. There is much to do if we are to accompany Lord Carandon on such a swift and hazardous journey; and Darius must make ready to go.”
Myrrdin turned away, evading my eyes. I saw the grey mask of sadness descend again, driving the luminosity from his face. He spoke slowly, his voice flat and devoid of emotion: “Yes, Comet. Speak to Darius at once. But know that he must take another road. He has done what your father charged him to do – and tomorrow, with the coming of the Queen, her Guardian must turn his eyes to other callings. It is…the only way.”
He would say no more, I knew. And the hammering of a heavy hand upon the chamber door told me our audience was at an end. “Come”, I called, and the door flew open to admit Kaerum K’aerunis, who entered quickly, face red from exertion and anger. “Welcome, Lord Kaerum…you are just in time”, I said. “Master Myrrdin and I have only now begun to discuss the ceremonies of the morrow.”
*********************
4 November 725
A brilliant day today, with the sun breaking bright and the air as crisp as the autumn leaves in the forest. By mid morning, Tal Rilma was buzzing with a palpable energy that filled its halls. People scurried here and there in preparation for the ceremonies, in what seemed to me a confused jumble of activity. For my part, I sat back in quiet amusement and watched the spectacle unfold.
The coronation ceremony seemed a necessary formality; but one with little meaning in the broader scheme of things. I only wished it done and behind us, and the focus tirned to the greater events at hand. As I watched in detached fascination, I became suddenly aware of a presence nearby, standing behind and to my left. I smiled and, without looking, said “Hello, Loki Vakha. Did I get that right? Is that what Father called you?”
I heard Darius’ voice, so oddly powerful and yet modest – almost shy – at the same time: “My Queen”.
“Not yet, dragon man”, I said, chuckling. “Have to wait until the ceremony is done to call me that”. I turned to face him, and saw the smile spread across his face.
“Perhaps this ritual may mark it so for others, but you were then, as now and ever more, my Queen”, he said. The smile receded then, replaced by his more customary, stoic look. “Lady Calliope said you wished to see me.”
“I did”, I said, and motioned to a spot on the bench beside me. “Come sit by me, Lord Darius; for it seems you have things to say to ‘your Queen’”.
His face flushed, revealing his sudden discomfort. He sat, clasped his hands together, and looked down at the floor between his feet, as if studying some exotic designs within the stone. After some few moments of silence, he began: “My Queen…Lady…Comet”, he stammered, searching for the words. “Master Myrrdin and I have consulted, together, about what must be done. He has told you his counsel – that you must go to the Drow Lord Malikith and seek his alliance and protection. It is a dangerous journey, but not overlong – Carandon and his elf-warriors will get you there safely. The gambit will take you, once more, beyond the reach of the Shadow Lord. My presence will mean little to the outcome, or what you must do when you arrive there.”
I looked at him, too harshly, and snapped: “True or not, Lord Darius, that is not your decision. Today I will be made Queen of my People, and I will have nobody – even my beloved Guardian – make such choices for me.” I regretted, immediately, the sharpness of my remark, and I felt my face burn in a combination of anger and embarrassment.
His gaze remained fixed on the floor. He spoke again, his voice flat and low: “I go to the dragons, Comet. They will mean much to the alliance…as much as the Drow…and one must not wait on the other. As each day passes, our enemy’s advantage grows. It may already be too late, for rumors abound that he has seduced the dragons to his cause. I fear for what I may find there; and fear for my reception in any case. The dragons are proud, and fierce. They do not trifle with interlopers; and will find great issue with my mission from the start. It will be the greatest peril we…I…have faced.” His voice trailed off, and his broad shoulders slumped perceptibly.
“I do not understand, Darius”, I said, my voice softening. “The dragons have a history with the Sylvan People…Bragollach with Father, in those early days; and the debt owed by Mother’s service to the Dragon King. Yes, they are fierce; but honorable. They will come to our cause, I am sure of it. And you are one of them. As our emissary, they will feel the bond of kinship with you.”
He slowly shook his head, his face blank and grey. “Much has changed in the world these past hundred years. Nargoroth has become Shadow Lord, and his reach grows, and the balance shifts in his favor. He seduces the dragons, for he knows that they will, in the end, decide what to do based on the greater benefit to their race. As for embracing me as an emissary, to them I am a foul and impure creation. I am a corrupted half-breed of dragon and the humans they so often despise. At best, I will be a figure of curiosity to them; and, at worst, a reviled perversion of their own, pure race.”
He looked up at me, and I saw – perhaps for the first time in all these years – the fear and uncertainty he felt for the tasks that lay before him. But before I could speak, he said: “Comet, I know what you will say. You will tell me that, if the risk is so great, I must not take on this mission. Or that some other, like Carandon, should be your ambassador. Or perhaps even that we might delay, and fulfill this mission on another day. Your care is great, and your loyalty to me clear. But this task will not hold, for each day lost increases the odds against us. I know, in my heart, I must go; and do what I might to overcome the dragons’ fears and biases – despite the enmity that may exist between us. Yea, do I fear it; but my larger fear is to see the alliance undone by our failure to bring the wyrms into this struggle on our side. There is no option.”
I felt my heart thundering in my chest, and had to restrain myself from howling in outrage. The fear numbed me, and my mind fought to find an objection. But I knew that he was right – not just about the need to carry this mission to the dragons at the same time we created the alliance with Malikith and the Drow; but also that he, my dear Guardian, must be the one to do it. I knew that he had seen this day coming for some time; and had withheld it from me quite purposefully. The girl who had come into his care might be an effective protagonist in this discussion. The Queen of the Sylvan North could not be, for her care must go to the broader needs of her People.
I rose, and offered him my hand…noting that, for the first time, it trembled slightly. He concealed that by taking it, kneeling and kissing it. I placed my free hand on his head and muttered, my voice near breaking, “Go then, dear Darius, with our blessing. And promise only that you will return to us one day upon your task’s completion; for we are a diminished People without you in our number.”
He rose, and turned; and left the chamber without replying or looking at me.
The coronation ceremony seemed a necessary formality; but one with little meaning in the broader scheme of things. I only wished it done and behind us, and the focus tirned to the greater events at hand. As I watched in detached fascination, I became suddenly aware of a presence nearby, standing behind and to my left. I smiled and, without looking, said “Hello, Loki Vakha. Did I get that right? Is that what Father called you?”
I heard Darius’ voice, so oddly powerful and yet modest – almost shy – at the same time: “My Queen”.
“Not yet, dragon man”, I said, chuckling. “Have to wait until the ceremony is done to call me that”. I turned to face him, and saw the smile spread across his face.
“Perhaps this ritual may mark it so for others, but you were then, as now and ever more, my Queen”, he said. The smile receded then, replaced by his more customary, stoic look. “Lady Calliope said you wished to see me.”
“I did”, I said, and motioned to a spot on the bench beside me. “Come sit by me, Lord Darius; for it seems you have things to say to ‘your Queen’”.
His face flushed, revealing his sudden discomfort. He sat, clasped his hands together, and looked down at the floor between his feet, as if studying some exotic designs within the stone. After some few moments of silence, he began: “My Queen…Lady…Comet”, he stammered, searching for the words. “Master Myrrdin and I have consulted, together, about what must be done. He has told you his counsel – that you must go to the Drow Lord Malikith and seek his alliance and protection. It is a dangerous journey, but not overlong – Carandon and his elf-warriors will get you there safely. The gambit will take you, once more, beyond the reach of the Shadow Lord. My presence will mean little to the outcome, or what you must do when you arrive there.”
I looked at him, too harshly, and snapped: “True or not, Lord Darius, that is not your decision. Today I will be made Queen of my People, and I will have nobody – even my beloved Guardian – make such choices for me.” I regretted, immediately, the sharpness of my remark, and I felt my face burn in a combination of anger and embarrassment.
His gaze remained fixed on the floor. He spoke again, his voice flat and low: “I go to the dragons, Comet. They will mean much to the alliance…as much as the Drow…and one must not wait on the other. As each day passes, our enemy’s advantage grows. It may already be too late, for rumors abound that he has seduced the dragons to his cause. I fear for what I may find there; and fear for my reception in any case. The dragons are proud, and fierce. They do not trifle with interlopers; and will find great issue with my mission from the start. It will be the greatest peril we…I…have faced.” His voice trailed off, and his broad shoulders slumped perceptibly.
“I do not understand, Darius”, I said, my voice softening. “The dragons have a history with the Sylvan People…Bragollach with Father, in those early days; and the debt owed by Mother’s service to the Dragon King. Yes, they are fierce; but honorable. They will come to our cause, I am sure of it. And you are one of them. As our emissary, they will feel the bond of kinship with you.”
He slowly shook his head, his face blank and grey. “Much has changed in the world these past hundred years. Nargoroth has become Shadow Lord, and his reach grows, and the balance shifts in his favor. He seduces the dragons, for he knows that they will, in the end, decide what to do based on the greater benefit to their race. As for embracing me as an emissary, to them I am a foul and impure creation. I am a corrupted half-breed of dragon and the humans they so often despise. At best, I will be a figure of curiosity to them; and, at worst, a reviled perversion of their own, pure race.”
He looked up at me, and I saw – perhaps for the first time in all these years – the fear and uncertainty he felt for the tasks that lay before him. But before I could speak, he said: “Comet, I know what you will say. You will tell me that, if the risk is so great, I must not take on this mission. Or that some other, like Carandon, should be your ambassador. Or perhaps even that we might delay, and fulfill this mission on another day. Your care is great, and your loyalty to me clear. But this task will not hold, for each day lost increases the odds against us. I know, in my heart, I must go; and do what I might to overcome the dragons’ fears and biases – despite the enmity that may exist between us. Yea, do I fear it; but my larger fear is to see the alliance undone by our failure to bring the wyrms into this struggle on our side. There is no option.”
I felt my heart thundering in my chest, and had to restrain myself from howling in outrage. The fear numbed me, and my mind fought to find an objection. But I knew that he was right – not just about the need to carry this mission to the dragons at the same time we created the alliance with Malikith and the Drow; but also that he, my dear Guardian, must be the one to do it. I knew that he had seen this day coming for some time; and had withheld it from me quite purposefully. The girl who had come into his care might be an effective protagonist in this discussion. The Queen of the Sylvan North could not be, for her care must go to the broader needs of her People.
I rose, and offered him my hand…noting that, for the first time, it trembled slightly. He concealed that by taking it, kneeling and kissing it. I placed my free hand on his head and muttered, my voice near breaking, “Go then, dear Darius, with our blessing. And promise only that you will return to us one day upon your task’s completion; for we are a diminished People without you in our number.”
He rose, and turned; and left the chamber without replying or looking at me.
***************
“Let all ye who gather to bear it witness, and the heralds who carry forth the news to all the People in all the lands, that here passes the stewardship of the House of Eyrturheru, by the blood that flows through the veins of Comet, Queen of the Taur’Quessir tel’For, the Sylvan Elves of the North. In her beats the heart of the People; and the Hope of all who defy treachery in the world. Corm en’Quessir, lye khiluva he a' gurtha ar' thar!”
I looked out at the sea of faces as the crowd echoed these last words in unison, shouting them out and culminating in a great roar. The final words, spoken by the High Priest, Kaerum K’aerunis – “to death and beyond” – were intended to be the signal for his attack. I felt him move behind me, and learned later that he had pulled a dagger from his cloak and taken a step forward; but was taken immediately by Lord Carandon and his elite guard. The elder elf screamed in protest and was hauled away; and what his few allies remaining in the crowd were likewise subdued…or remained hidden.
I pondered, for a moment, the irony of this scene. The delicate crown of my ancestors – the Thol en’Lasse – sat weightless upon my head; and the oddly dented scepter in my hand, in its delicate form of carved silver and gemstones, glimmered brightly in the afternoon sun. Beyond these tokens, my fine raiment, or the shouted adulation of the crowds, nothing of any real substance seemed changed. Yet, nothing would ever be the same. I stood alone, facing this small fraction of the People whose ranks were scattered all about the known world. The work of bringing them together; and building an alliance to face the shadow that threatened us, must now begin in earnest. Now that burden was truly mine to bear; and I prayed for the strength to bear it well.
I looked over to my left, and saw Darius there. He stood, alone, in his familiar traveling clothes. Gaiden, his magnificent mount, stood saddled and bridled at his hand. I caught his eye, and nodded modestly; and a soft smile framed my lips. He bowed his head, and a lock of his dark hair fell across his face. He looked up, holding my eyes for a moment…then turned and mounted his horse in one smooth motion. I heard his clucking command to Gaiden, and watched his heels dig in to urge them forward. They turned and, in the winking of an eye, were gone from my sight.
I looked out at the sea of faces as the crowd echoed these last words in unison, shouting them out and culminating in a great roar. The final words, spoken by the High Priest, Kaerum K’aerunis – “to death and beyond” – were intended to be the signal for his attack. I felt him move behind me, and learned later that he had pulled a dagger from his cloak and taken a step forward; but was taken immediately by Lord Carandon and his elite guard. The elder elf screamed in protest and was hauled away; and what his few allies remaining in the crowd were likewise subdued…or remained hidden.
I pondered, for a moment, the irony of this scene. The delicate crown of my ancestors – the Thol en’Lasse – sat weightless upon my head; and the oddly dented scepter in my hand, in its delicate form of carved silver and gemstones, glimmered brightly in the afternoon sun. Beyond these tokens, my fine raiment, or the shouted adulation of the crowds, nothing of any real substance seemed changed. Yet, nothing would ever be the same. I stood alone, facing this small fraction of the People whose ranks were scattered all about the known world. The work of bringing them together; and building an alliance to face the shadow that threatened us, must now begin in earnest. Now that burden was truly mine to bear; and I prayed for the strength to bear it well.
I looked over to my left, and saw Darius there. He stood, alone, in his familiar traveling clothes. Gaiden, his magnificent mount, stood saddled and bridled at his hand. I caught his eye, and nodded modestly; and a soft smile framed my lips. He bowed his head, and a lock of his dark hair fell across his face. He looked up, holding my eyes for a moment…then turned and mounted his horse in one smooth motion. I heard his clucking command to Gaiden, and watched his heels dig in to urge them forward. They turned and, in the winking of an eye, were gone from my sight.
> Chapter 5