Chapter X:
What Came to Pass
The Queen and the Law
Three days after the destruction of Agonistes, both of the idol and the devil, Volthamir thos Amlaman thos Ramlos was laid to rest with all the pomp and ceremony due to the kings of that land. He was placed beside his father in the tombs of Gehlel, which were built near the Razzun Highlands, where the dead, it was believed, could more easily pass to their next abode. Upon his brow was laid the crown of the dead, which all kings of Amlaman wore, and in his hand was placed a single silnani blossom, as was customary in the northern kingdom. Upon his breast was laid his demon blade, in which resided all the devils of Legion and many more beside. Rahdmus cursed that sword in that hour, saying, 'Let no man dare to take up this sword from this place. For it is a backward and an evil blade, rewarding its master with treachery and peril. In the hour that this blade is carried again into battle, in that very hour shall Amlaman quake and fail, and utterly vanish from among the kingdoms of Tel Arie.'
The Dual Crown for which King Vulcan had betrayed his own cousin was broken asunder, and the portion bearing the symbol of Star Hill in Ramlos was set upon the head of Leonara, whose ancestors had ruled and reigned in the north. The other half of the crown was reserved for a man named Lenatho, who, alone among the half-brothers of Volthamir, had shed no blood in the wars and rebellions of that age. Some of his half-brothers assailed him, but the armies of Amlaman made a quick end to all of the rebellions, leaving the whole kingdom at peace for a time.
On the fifteenth day of Ninus, Leonara thasa Amlaman was renamed Leonara thasa Ramlos, and the old order of things were restored in Weldera. She was dressed in a gown of pure white, the hems of which were embroidered silver thread, such as can only be purchased in the distant south. Her long hair was crowned with flowers over which was set the thin crown of Ramlos with diamond stars set upon silver leaves. The men of Noras were bidden to her coronation, and a treaty was made for the first time between Ramlos and Noras. For the rivalry of their gods was at an end.
Into her left hand was placed a scroll, which bore the most ancient laws of Ramlos and into her right hand was given a scepter of ivory and gold. But the law and the scepter were a grievous burden for her. For in Amlaman a queen was forbidden to marry a foreigner, and she was told flatly by the noblemen in that land that she must be brought under the dominion of a man descended from either Joplis or from Vol the brave, her ancestor.
When this news reached the ears of Daryas, his eyes once again grew dark and somber, but in them his brother could see no longer the doubtfulness that had previously vexed him. The brothers spoke to one another even as the Noras prepared for their return to Noras.
'Are you thinking of doing something rash?' Dynamis laughed. 'You know, brother, that you cannot conceal anything from me.'
Daryas just sighed, saying, 'Perhaps. But this time I mean to do it alone, though I will forever be grateful for what you have already done for me.'
Dynamis came close to him and the brothers embraced, shedding tears for all that they had passed through. 'Take Novai at least,' Dynamis demanded, 'she likes you more than she ever liked me anyway.' The brothers laughed and Dynamis put into Daryas' hand a small purse full of gold.
'What is this?' the younger brother asked.
'You will need it for the journey, and I know as well as you do that your own money does not last long in your pockets.'
Taking the gift from his brother, Daryas bowed low, touching his head to the ground. Farewell, Dynamis Galvahirne, I know not whether we shall meet again.'
'We shall,' Dynamis said with a smile, concealing his own fears.
Taken
On the twelfth day of Messest the people of Ramlos came out with their instruments and their songs to inaugurate the Feast of the Hunt. Leonara was driven in a white carriage to the northern border of Heyan, where she might watch as the archers competed for prizes and the warriors held mock battles. She was clothed in a dress of brown, with golden leaves sewn about her collar and sleeves. Over her shoulders was a white shawl and atop her head was set a crown of autumn leaves. Thousands of warriors, noblemen, hunters and peasants were gathered to see their new queen and to watch the contests.
In full sight of all these people, Daryas Galvahirne appeared from beneath the shadows of the northern border of Heyan, cloaked in black and mounted on a horse. He rode past her guards, who had ridden out to withstand him, and caught her in his arms as he passed, taking her gently in front of him in the saddle. This he did with so much grace that for some time the men of Ramlos thought it was some sort of stunt or spectacle. But when he rode away and made no sign of ceasing, they blew their horns and took to the chase. And a hopeless chase it was, as I need not inform my readers. For Novai was a horse the likes of which has not, nor shall again appear in Tel Arie. Together they rode through the maze of Razzun, passed to the north of Mighty Desset, saw Rinin from afar, and passed to the south, within sight of Titalo, the city of the pirates, coming at last to the northern edge of Zyprion, the black forest of western Weldera.
There, under the impenetrable shadows of the ancient forest they embraced one another and swore to the stars of heaven their eternal love and took vows of marriage with the mighty trees as their witnesses, and with the animals of the forest as their attendants.
When news of this reached the ears of Dynamis, he wept and lamented, knowing that his brother would never return to the forest of Noras.
Island
After they had spent a month in that place, building for themselves a small cabin and planting a garden, they were suddenly assailed by a band of men from Titalo, who had spied out their abode from the north, having seen the smoke of their chimney rising above the trees. Some twenty strong men armed with axes and daggers came and demanded that Daryas release the woman into their possession. But eleven of these men were made to feel the sting of Aevangelu, which Daryas still carried with him. The others fled in terror, clambering over one another to escape, finding their own blades helpless in contest with with that of the son of Galvahir. Rumors began to spread and the fame of his blade and the beauty of his bride attracted the attention of the lords of Titalo, who do not suffer any to dwell in their domain who have not sworn fealty to their Council.
After he had fought this last battle, Daryas said, 'I wish never to bath myself in the blood of men, so long as I live. Yet if we remain in this forest, we shall have need of many red washings. For my soul's sake, we must away from these evil folk.'
'What shall we do, then? Where can we flee now?' Leonara asked, fearing that they would lead a life of travel. 'For we cannot live always running from place to place.'
That night, the vision of the island once more returned to Daryas' mind, but now it was cleared of all things fearful and dark; for all such things had been the work of Pelas. A place of healing it seemed to him, and a place where no man could find nor trouble him.
The very next day he went alone into Hunlu, which is a village south of Titalo, and purchased two horses with the gold his brother had given him. Novai he sent alone into the wild, to find his way back to Noras, as he had done so many times before. These two horses they used to carry what little possessions they had into the west where they traded them for an old wooden boat.
There on the western edge of the world they could see the isle that the pirates called 'Dedge Isle', which, in the tongue of the Knarse, simply means Island of Ghosts. There it was believed that all manner of devils resided. No man had set foot thereon, for the waters were treacherous, and every attempt was met with calamity. But Daryas knew those waters well, and, recalling his dreams, he navigated them with great ease, finding at last a rocky shore on which to land.
He drew up the boat from the water and they lay themselves down upon the shore, free at last to rest in security.
There they built a home for themselves, and a little farm, using seeds they had carried from Zyprion. In due course, Leonara gave birth to three children: th
eir sons, whose names were Galvar and Dyne, and Marima their daughter. There they were content to dwell, untroubled by the world without, and free at last to let their hearts heal.
Dynamis
It was not until eight years had passed that any clue was discovered regarding the whereabouts of Daryas and his bride. Two months after his disappearance that Novai finally found her way back to Galva-la. But nothing could be discovered regarding their abode. 'You would not have returned so fat and content, had your rider met an ill end,' he said as he patted his old horse. 'It is a pity that for all your cunning and your prudence you have not yet learned to speak.'
Nevertheless, the return of his horse gave him peace for a time concerning his brother's safety. That winter, on the eve of his brother's birthday, he married Lyris of Marin in a small ceremony in Peiraso. The speech, which was traditionally given to the groom's brother, was left unspoken, and an empty place was left at the table for Daryas. 'I will suffer no man to take his place,' he said to his bride, 'whether this breaks with tradition or not I am not concerned. For it is time for all the old ways to come under scrutiny.'
The marriage of Dynamis brought hope to Noras and great joy to the Galvahirne, but the sadness of his parents seemed only to grow with each passing day. He noticed for the first time, nigh on the anniversary of Daryas' departure, that his mother Marima ate even her favorite foods very sparingly, and his father's laugh was ever mingled with worry and sorrow. When a second year had gone by, his wife came to him and perceiving that he too was greatly grieved, she spoke to him thus, 'Beloved,' she said, 'it is not the way of the Galvahirne to languish in sorrow. Lift up your face, and seek out your brother, lest you grow old with regret for an overlord.'
The words of Lyris gave him a new resolve, and he began in that hour to conceive of a plan whereby he might bring his brother back to the forest of his birth.
After two and a half years had gone by, Revere, under guise as one of the Schoolmen of Dadron, appeared in Ramlos and was permitted to speak before the Council of noblemen. He bore with him a large bone (the leg bone of a goblin), which he convinced them by many subtle arguments to be the bone of the daughter of Vulcan their Queen. With a great show of false tears the noblemen announced the hope of her return to be vain, buried the goblin's bone with honors, and set about the arduous task of choosing from what wealthy man's household a new king should be chosen. Of the squabbles, rivalries, and sophistries of that period I have no desire to speak, but in the end Ramlos had for itself a new king, whose name history will no doubt soon forget.
Sion
When it was officially decided that Queen Leonara thasa Ramlos had been kidnapped and slain, Dynamis summoned the great eagle Maru and sent by him a message to his brother, a message which took nearly six years to find its recipient. It was not until some controversies in Lavri-la brought the absence of Hassan Lavrilirne to his attention that some means of finding his brother was discovered. Some relatives of Cheft Burrin were attempting to drive Ingra, the daughter of Cheft Grendas, from her seat in the lands that were, for a time, ruled over by Sion, the companion of Daryas. In all such matters, the Galvahirne were now looked to for counsel. Again Revere's subtlety was called upon, and he was sent, this time, to Titalo and Rinin to seek out news of the step-son of Cheft Ponteris, who had not been seen since the raid upon Cebrost.
In due time the sagacity of Revere led them to Sion, who had been making his living among the sailors of Titalo. Thus Revere learned of the island which had appeared at times in Daryas' dreams. Sion directed him to the maps of the Knarsemen and showed him where Dedge Isle might be found. 'But no ship can sail there,' he warned, 'for no ship can know those waters save for those that have been broken apart by them.'
When he learned of his friend's exile and of the troubles facing his wife, and when he learned of how his step-father had met an end, he grew very somber and sent Revere from his presence, refusing to say anything more to him.
Nevertheless, some two months later he appeared in Noras in the attire of a Captain of Titalo, and took up his seat in Lavri-la. He refused, however, to be called 'Cheftan', and so began the slow dissolution of the old ways. Some unhappy men tried to fight against it, but it was clear the the age of the Cheftans was passing. The doctrines of the Nihlion also, for the first time, entered into the lands of the Omnion, and the whole land of Galva-la, Vivlir-la, Cossa-la and Lavri-la gave up the name Pelas and turned their attention to the mysteries of the Eternal One.
Reunion
One day, as Daryas looked out over the rocks atop a great hill on Dedge Isle, he heard a cry such as no bird in that region makes. Looking below he saw, rising upon the winds, the mighty bird Maru with a tattered scroll bound upon its talons. The bird alighted upon Daryas' staff and the Galvahirne greeted him warmly, though with great concern regarding the urgency with which he had arrived. As soon as Revere had returned from Titalo the elder son of Biron called for the lord of birds once again, and sent him at last to summon home Daryas Galvahirne, the savior of Noras. The message informed him that 'Ramlos cared no longer to search for their Queen, being fully convinced by many proofs that she had been slain in the wild'. Moreover he learned of his parents' dwindling health, and of their growing despondency. Long he remained in that place, overlooking the western sky, wondering if he might, after all that had transpired, return to Noras. 'I can return to Noras,' he told his love, 'but I cannot return to myself. For though the forest remain as it has always been, everything within me has been changed.'
On the fifteenth day of Morest, in the forty-second year of this century, a small wagon rolled gently up the hill to the front gates of Peiraso. It was unheralded and unexpected. Its driver had a long beard and a dark hood, and what was hidden behind these could not be discerned. Snow was falling, and it was looking as though another cold winter was in store for Noras. But great warmth greeted the traveler as the doors were pulled back and opened before him. Running to greet him was the lady of the house, Marima, who now seemed so frail with care that it troubled him to see her exert herself so. 'Daryas!?' she said, her voice breaking as she wrapped her arms around him. For a very long while she could do nothing but weep in his arms. Then with great excitement, wiping the tears flowing from her eyes, she greeted at last her grandchildren, of whom she had known nothing, but toward whom she immediately bore all the depth of love she possessed. When she saw at last the beauty of Leonara and the sorrows behind her blue eyes, she wept and embraced her, leading her by the hand into the house. There they were greeted by Cheftan Biron, who seemed to have grown even more wise in the time that Daryas had been gone. The children were soon united with their cousins, the daughter of Dynamis and Lyris, who was called Elnay, and their young son, who was called, in deference to his uncle, Daryas.
There under the trees of Noras was the Queen of Ramlos, who by right might have borne the Dual Crown of her father, but rather chose a life of exile and simplicity. There she was called Anadora, and she cropped her hair in the manner of the Noras, taking their ways for her own. Yet she brought with her the nobility of the kings of Amlaman and Ramlos, and her voice was such that none in the land of Noras could rival. At times she would wander the woods, walking the ancient paths and trails, singing to herself of her sorrows and her joys, sending the mysterious beauty of her voice into the forest air. This soon gave rise to a great many tales and myths, which now come to mind with great ease to those who hear the name of that land.
As I write, even as the length of my own life draws nigh to a close, the very wind in that forest is now called, when it rustles the leaves and whistles through the branches, the Siren's Song, and it is a song both sad and magnificent.
Rahdmus
When the chaos at Sten Agoni had at last been sorted out, and when the burial of the King of Amlaman been finished, Rahdmus remained for a short time in Amlaman, seeing to the succession of Lenatho in Japhrian. Through all this time he was never questioned concerning the murder of Voltan or the plotting of that f
ailed war in Dadron. He enjoyed almost the same honor and esteem that he possessed in the days of King Vulcan, who learned only too late how wicked were the ambitions of his advisor.
After Lenatho was crowned and after his kinswoman Leonara, during her short rule, had sent an envoy to the south to acknowledge his sovereignty, Rahdmus departed from Amlaman, coming to Dadron for a while. There his tale was related in full before Lord Akellnarva and, I might add, within my own hearing.
When all this was done he departed again, heading into Coronan to seek the cabin in which he had first encountered that spirit Paley, who had exercised so great an influence in all that had come to pass in Weldera. But he could find no sign of the place wherein his wounds had been healed.
He climbed up again to the cliff from which he had been cast down, and looking out over the edge, he shook his head.
'There was a time,' he said to himself, 'when my words were bold and strong. Looking into the face of the world I saw only evil and trouble, not purpose and meaning. Who was it that told me, 'Nature shall teach you the paths of righteousness?' Why should she? And what can man know of purposes that come before him, and designs that come before the world even? Can he pretend to see that which lies beyond sight? It is an easy thing for the rich to look upon the earth and say, 'It is good, all of it is the will of the gods.' But the blackness that meets the peasant, and the sorrows that plague the broken hearted say, 'The world cares not for you at all!' But both of these are mistaken! Why should the luxury of the rich prove the goodness and care of the gods? Why should our sorrows show their neglect? Pain, joy, misery and happiness; these are goods to man, and why should we expect them in this world at all? Why should we expect the gods to fill the world to the brim with pleasures for us? And why should we call it unjust for them to fill it with hurts and troubles? What do we know of the will of God, save for that which we find in our own wills? Our own wills! What sorry judges of truth! What sorry templates for a creator!
'The folly of those who follow superstition, believing what they have not cause to believe, is no greater than the folly of those who deny that which they have not the power to deny.'
He sat down upon the edge of the cliff and let the cool wind blow through his silver hair. He shut his eyes and listened to the sounds of the mountain, until at last the sun sank beneath the western hills, leaving him under the silver light of the moon.
'I have labored these past years in vain,' he said with tears in his voice. 'It is said among the people of Noras, and indeed, in all countries, that there is a god who holds in his hand a great scale of perfect measure. Upon the left is placed our righteous deeds, and upon the left, are placed the wicked. Who can hope to tip the scale in his favor? There was a time indeed when I laughed at such a thing, calling it a nursemaid's fable.
'I asked myself the very same question the King of Amlaman proposed, why should I choose right? Of course, all men ought to choose right, but why would they want to? On the path to wickedness lies all pleasures and dainties, all rewards and luxuries, and if there be no such scales, and if the deeds of my life bear no consequence, then it is better for a man to live in injustice, even as I formerly believed. To what end shall I seek the rough path, the selfless path? Why should my self be unselfish? Is that not a contradiction? What gain is there in righteousness for the man?
'Truly, if there be not a life to come, then he who shuns the world and its riches is the most foolish of men, and he who does the greatest injury for his own pleasure the wisest. If I am to die this moment, and my life be snatched away, what does it matter whether my last act be good or evil? I perish all the same, and my death is the same as the rich and the poor, the saint and the devil!
'Cruel!' I might accuse, but I know that such words are empty. Your world belongs to you, and if evil accompany me every day of my life, and trials abound, and I am broken by the way, then what of it? What right had I to anything else? If I must suffer, then suffer I must. We do not have to like this world. But if it so happens that good comes to me, and times of wealth and pleasure, then I ought acknowledge this to be a gift, and not anything that I deserved.
'But what can be done for a soul such as my own, when it has laid up for itself centuries of evil for every moment of good. Shall the scale tip and dump me beneath the lowest hell? Am I utterly undone, though I have learned at this late hour that I have been a fool? Oh would that I had perished with my family in the north, and never come to live in this place!'
Suddenly Rahdmus sensed that he was not alone atop the mountain. He turned, but saw nobody at first, but heard what seemed to his ears to be the sounds of a child, weeping.
As the starlight shone upon him, he saw by some trick of light, the shape and form of a little boy. His elven eyes, along with his father before him, had the power to see the spirits of the Northern world, though to almost all other men they were imperceptible. 'What is your name, spirit?' he asked, taking pity upon the sorrowful soul. 'And why do you weep?'
'I am weeping for my mother,' he said, covering his face in his hands.
'And what are you doing in this place, of all places?' Rahdmus asked.
'I have come across land and sea to find you, for with you walks a mystery that I have long sought to uncover. But as you spoke, my thoughts went back to my mother, who has perished in the distant east.'
'What is your name child?' Rahdmus asked, the hairs of his neck standing on end.
'I am Duri,' he said, lifting his face from behind his hands.
The heart of Rahdmus rose and then sank, recognizing in this apparition, the son he had not seen in many ages. Tears burst from his eyes and he made as if to embrace him, but fell to the ground on his face, knowing that he could not touch a spirit.
At that moment, a great storm arose and swept across the mountain, from the midst of which emerged Paley as if he rode upon a bolt of lightning. 'What are you doing here, Rahdmus?' he asked kindly, but sternly. 'What did you hope to find here?'
'A hint perhaps, of the cause of all my trials; and hope, if it be possible, that I am not utterly lost.'
'There are none, Rahdmus, who are with more hope than you. For had you not been accepted already, you would not have been granted the great responsibilities you have been given.'
Then Paley turned to Duri, and took him by the hand, saying, 'Come Duri, you will see your father soon. But there is much that must come to pass ere that day.' Duri looked once more upon Rahdmus, and at last seemed to recognize the face he had seen in the old world, ere the wrath of the dragons had rent his soul from his flesh. As Paley led him away, the storm seemed to vanish, and Rahdmus could see for a moment the country into which his son was at last to reside. Ere the sight of them vanished away, Paley turned to him and said, 'Go now to Heyan, and you shall receive a great sorrow and a joy, and a new task, such as will bring you to the end of your days.' The great spirit then put out his hand and pointed to the west. 'There is one secret that Lord Havoc never revealed to the Prince of Amlaman, when he was tutor and instructor; a secret that was humiliating to you, but which was the seed that brought forth the fruit of your redemption. It was upon that foundation that your life, as it is now, has been laid. And do not worry over the scales of the gods, for the Eternal One will take care of their balance himself.'
In due course, Rahdmus came at last to Heyan, and it seemed as if his memory of that place was restored in equal proportion to his distance therefrom. When he came to its eaves he remembered old Effren, who had murdered his own wife and daughter, yet who lived in honor and luxury. As he passed through Soleya and followed the old trail north to Fenwer he remembered old Hashias who had lived with his stricken daughter Deria and with the faithful Sarya. He shut his eyes as he remembered all the trials that sorry family had endured. 'How is it that I have forgotten you? As I approach, it seems as though no time at all had passed; but through all these past few years I have not thought of you.'
When he realized how long it had been since his last visit, his heart
grew anxious. Knowing their poverty, and the shame under which they had long dwelt, and knowing further how he had been their only support, he grew more and more despondent as he drew near their old home. The men of the village could tell him nothing concerning their fate. 'Are you to tell me that nobody has sought the hand of the daughter of Hashias? She must be approaching her thirty-fourth year.'
'Some have inquired,' was the answer he received. 'But she would not be parted from her invalid sister, and no man would take upon themselves such a burden.'
This response gave him all the more reason for concern. But when at last Rahdmus came around the bend in the road he was surprised to see that some repairs had been made to the house, and that the roof and the upper floor had been restored. 'What is this? Who would have taken pity on them in my stead?'
When Sarya saw her visiter she fell to her knees in the doorway and wept over his feet. 'Blessed are your feet, my lord, for we had almost despaired of life altogether!'
'But what is this?' Rahdmus asked, taking her arms in his and raising her to her feet. 'The roof fixed? The house mended? Who has done all this?'
She stepped away from him slightly, with a look of confusion in her eyes. 'It was your companion,' she answered. 'He returned to us now and again, asking if we had seen or heard any news of you. When he came he was as liberal with us as you had been, and he said that we should not thank him, but save our gratitude for you should you happen to return.'
Rahdmus stood like a man of stone for a while, fighting his tears. In the end he burst out with a tearful laugh, 'Cruel flesh! Always you mock our nobility!'
'I don't understand,' she said, looking very concerned for him.
'Do not worry for me,' he answered. 'I am not worthy of your sympathies.'
She bowed low, touching her face to the ground, as if to show him otherwise.
'Rise, Sarya!' he commanded. 'You shall never bow to me again.' He then threw aside his cloak and lay his own face to the ground. There he remained for a time, with his eyes shut tight.
'This was my one secret,' he whispered to himself, 'that I could not, for all my bravado, escape my own sympathies.'
When he had recovered himself, he entered the house, and soon learned that Hashias had fallen ill and died the previous winter, leaving Sarya alone with her invalid sister Deria, who suffered still under her great afflictions. 'Will you help us,' Sarya pleaded, 'even as you have done so many times before?'
'Nay,' he answered. 'not as before.'
He remained in Fenwer from that day forth. He first betook himself to the restoration of the orchards and gardens that had once prospered on that land. When the next spring came he took Sarya as his wife and built for her and her sister a new home, such as only the hands of an elven prince could build. It was not gaudy or elegant, as were the homes in Dadron of old, but rather like a Noras cabin, but built to such precise measure and such perfect form that it seemed almost unworldly to look upon.
There in a new home, a new life began for him, and the immortality of the elvenkind seemed to vanish away from him in proportion to the love he bore toward his wife. There they grew old together, caring for her sister and raising several children of their own.
The children of Rahdmus were told nothing concerning their lineage until they had reached an age of maturity, and even then they were told to conceal the matter from everyone else. The health and wisdom they have grown to possess, however, has betrayed their ancestry, and by the time of this writing their reputation in Heyan was such that it is rumored among some that the immortals have returned to Tel Arie. But time will dispel this error by better proofs than I care to bring forth in this place.
Had Solran harkened to the warnings of Rahdmus when he had been given the opportunity, the elves would have either come to their old stronghold as saviors or perished outside the walls of Dadron as heroes. But they instead chose to reveal themselves to the world as murderers and villains, slaying all who dwelt in Ilmalam without provocation and oppressing the southern marches of Amlaman without mercy, all in hopes that they would see power pass once again to the elves. But all of their hopes were dashed to pieces when Simnahi, the emissary of Bralahi, was seen by their scouts riding into the south like a gale. He told them nothing about what had transpired in the north - for he had been at Sten Agoni when the gods came to an end. Had he stopped to warn them, they would have fled the region at once and vanished forever into the mountains. But they remained, and sought out news from Japhrian. Simnahi's face was pale with shock, and he could not find the words to recount what had happened. He rode into the south blindly and wildly, forgetting both his allies and his former hope.
By the time they were fully aware of what had taken place, they found themselves surrounded on all sides by warriors from Amlaman, led now by Lenatho thos Amlaman.
The elves fought to the end with all their power, but they could not withstand their enemies for long. Those who perished not were taken in bonds to fester and die in the prison of Amla City. Some, indeed, fled into the mountains and returned to their hidden kingdom, but Solran himself was slain during the battle. Even as I write the nation of Amlaman is yet at war with the elves of Solsis, and time alone will reveal their fate.
Into the Sea
The fall of Agonistes had been as sudden as it was dramatic. But the worship of Pelas continued for a time in the old temple of Dadron. But the life and beauty of the ancient religion of the elves had been stripped away by both the death of their god and by the doctrines of the Galvahirne, who were first among the people of Weldera to adapt themselves to the ideas of the Nihlion of Solsis.
Soon these doctrines came to Dadron also, and by their influence the people of that mighty city were compelled either to worship the Eternal One or at least to abandon their god of stone. Some of their priests made an attempt to call this Eternal One of the Nihlion by the name of Pelas, but their endeavors ended in failure and their preaching sounded empty and hollow even to their own ears.
In the end, the Temple was abandoned and its stones put to better use. Rahdmus and I met once again by the shores of the Frozen Sea in the middle of Messest as the last year of the century drew to its close. The great idol of Pelas had at last outlived its welcome, and, lest it become a stumbling stone for men of other ages, it was resolved by Lord Narghelu, the grandson of Lord Akellnarva, that it must be cast into the sea. Rahdmus had aged quite a bit by then, his face now matching his silver hair. I could tell that the life of the immortals was fading within him.
'You look almost as old as I,' I jested, comparing his ancient silver hair to my own hair, which was now quite long and gray.
He smiled and asked, 'Have you ever had, in all these years, any news of your old friend?'
'No,' I answered. 'But the deeds we have seen have been rumored in Dominas and, to a lesser extent, even in Kharku. I am not utterly without hope for him, though I do not now hope to see him again; in this life at the least. If he will not return to the Nihlion, perhaps the ways of the Nihlion will find him where he now dwells.'
'I hope and pray that he will be among those to be restored in that day. Even as I have such hope for myself. For I am convinced that if aught can be made of my own sorry life, then there are none who are utterly destitute of hope.'
'Indeed,' I answered, 'To live is to have hope.'
End of Book V
About The Author
I was born and raised in New Jersey; and I am New Jerseyan through and through, wherever life may take me.
For Christmas one year my parents bought me a Lord of the Rings computer game. I started playing it and was so inspired by the story that I put the game aside and did not touch it again until I had read The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. Those books sparked within me a love of reading in general and a love of fantasy literature in particular.
My favorite genre, however, is philosophy, particularly as it relates to ethics and metaphysics. This, together with my love of the fantastic, is the inspiration for my
writing.
In my reading I have seen how ideas affect history. For this reason it has been important to me to not simply tell a story, but to show how the characters interact with different ideologies and ethical dilemmas. I want my readers to at least understand, even if they do not sympathize with, the villains of the story.
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https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6949089.Jake_Yaniak/blog
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