Chapter IV:
The War of Peace
From the Fall of Sunlan
I have perhaps gotten ahead of myself in my excitement to introduce the great hope of the Nihlion into my tale. But when at last his story is told in full, including those facts which we Lapulians have long concealed, I think the reader will forgive my haste. But I do not think that I should say any more until I have given at least some sense of what had become of Bel Albor in the days following the Great Sundering, when Agonas drove his brother from Sunlan in both shame and glory. Shame because he had broken from his brother, and was sent with nothing back into the west. Glory because the throne of Alwan now belonged to him by right.
Lord Parganas vanished.
That is all that history records concerning his fate. He did not, as so many other elves, meet with death at the hands of his sons. He forsook his throne and disappeared from all history and notice. Some said that he sailed south into Tel Arie or into Kharku and set up a new kingdom. Others said that he went to Vestron in east Olgrost, and vied for power among the other gods in that region.
But there is a tale told among the Knarse sailors of Titalo that, perhaps, gives the best possibility. Among mortal and immortal sailors there are none so bold as the Knarse, and a number of their ship captains claimed to have sailed north through the Frozen Sea to spy out the sunken lands of the north, where Bel Albor used to be. It is said among them that upon a certain sunken mountain peak there is a lone man, an immortal hermit, who is kind to travelers, but who never leaves his abode. His name they do not utter, but the isle upon which he dwells is known among the Knarse as 'Mond fithi', which, when the changes in speech are brought to mind, is very close to saying Mount Vitiai. There perhaps he yet lives, and there perhaps he shall live, until either the ocean claims him or the world is brought to its close.
When Pelas returned he was welcomed by some as their new lord and given all the honors that his father's office required. He was pained to learn that his mother had vanished during his absence – some, though, said she had perished in despair. He never believed this to be true, however. 'She shall dwell within me now,' he said, comforting himself.
Those who refused to acknowledge him gathered together in the north and in the east and marched against Alwan in great force. But the elves of the Swampland supported him, since among his servants was Lohi and his sons, who were well known and well thought of among the elves in the region of Thedua. The enemies of Pelas were broken and scattered, and soon he had control of the whole land from the western wastes where once the kingdom atop Mountain of Vitiai thrived to the Esse River, which then marked the border between Alwan and Sunlan.
The Captain of the Guard Maru was retained, and he was always faithful to Pelas, though he did not always act without questioning his master. 'I did not serve your father without reason or without any remonstrance, and I will not serve you without these either. For I wish to serve,' he said to Pelas when he swore his oaths, 'and sometimes the servant must broaden the perspective of his master through counsel.' Pelas seemed to accept this without protest, and gave Maru a place of honor in the new kingdom.
For nearly two hundred years a fragile peace ruled over Bel Albor, and a great many wonderful things were accomplished. Gold seemed to flow like water in both kingdoms, and the elves grew in strength and power, each contained to their own side of the Esse River. But the mortals of that region had a great deal of commerce along the river, and they did not give much heed to the laws of their distant masters.
This was especially true of the Lupith in eastern Alwan, who for all that time saw not so much as a banner belonging either to Parganas or to Pelas. Some small conflicts between these men and the men of Sunlan drew Agonas' army from its fortresses and war erupted between Sunlan and the mortals of the western Esse.
When Pelas learned that Agonas' soldiers were within his borders he sent Maru and many of the other high elves to withstand them. It is very likely he meant only for them to intimidate the army of Sunlan, but a battle ensued, where the losses on the part of Sunlan were great. The response was a full invasion of the West Esse region, and the claiming of everything between the Esse River and the Thedul River for the kingdom of Sunlan. Nearly all of this fighting, however, was being done by mortals, who were at the heart of the conflict and who formed the greater part of each kingdom's army.
For nearly a hundred years Sunlan held dominion over this region, but in due course the forces of Alwan returned, supposedly in answer to some infraction of those who dwelt in that region. They drove back the armies of Sunlan and reclaimed the land for a generation.
The High Elves of Ilvas
As Sunlan prepared its counterattack, however, Lord Dalta and his servants returned to the northern stronghold of Ilvas and gathered an army of disgruntled men from the contested land. When this army was trained and prepared it poured into the south, pushing away both the army of Alwan and the army of Sunlan. Both Agonas and his brother were enraged at this turn, but the other high elves had agreed amongst themselves that this was the best course, and many of the old servants of Pelas and of Agonas retreated to Ilvas and maintained the peace in the region despite their masters' wishes.
Lord Dalta sent emissaries to both kingdoms, pledging undying and unquestioned allegiance to both. But he called his kingdom the Keeper of Peace, and said that he could not send forth his armies in support of either throne, and that he would only act when one of the kingdoms invaded the land. In this way he effectively established a third kingdom in Bel Albor, and made himself king of Ilvas.
This act by no means ended all the strife. What it did manage, however, was the end of any open warfare between the high elves themselves. 'Too much immortal blood has been spilled,' Dalta argued to the other elves. 'The sons of Parganas will not be contented until only one of them lives in Bel Albor. If we do not acquire some might of our own we will be thrown into the bucket with all the rest of the water, to vanish in this unending conflict. Let us preserve ourselves and the peace of Bel Albor, then, so that there is something left for the elves who have for so long striven for peace and security in these lands.'
Amro and Ghastin were very much of the same mind, and they eventually went to dwell in Ilvas, forsaking the courts of Sunlan altogether. Thuruvis remained with Dalia, the daughter of Dalta and Ele, serving as a captain in Ilvas' armies.
Zefru and Gheshtick were agreed with Dalta's plan, but chose to remain in Sunlan with Agonas. Zefru remained because Agonas was more likely to require as well as reward the sort of deeds he was infamous for committing. One of these deeds was widely believed to be the murder of Lohi in his bed in Alwan Palace. There was, of course, no proof that it was Zefru who had done it, but the act was so bold and so skillfully accomplished that the name of Zefru naturally came to Pelas' mind. Gheshtick remained as Agonas' chief counselor and ruled over all of the economic matters of Sunlan.
In Alwan Bralohi remained ever at Pelas' side, along with Cheru, Oblis and Ginat, only the latter of whom supported Dalta's schemes. Kolohi and Sol remained in the service of Pelas, but spent the greater portion of their time in the more tranquil fortress of Ilvas – serving as emissaries, they said.
Sons and daughters were born to the high elves in those days, though not nearly as often as they are born among mortals, who feel the approach of Death at every moment. There were many sons and daughters, cousins and kin who history has forgotten. Those who we remember are mainly those who sailed with the elves in their final flight from Bel Albor.
Fair Indra, the daughter of Sunlan's old king Ijjam, was spared in the night of the Dark Order. Agonas had not the heart to kill her, but he knew that, having slain her father, she could never love him. Pelas gathered his faithful servants when he departed, and he took Indra with him, giving her in marriage to Falruvis, who had served him well on his own voyage. In time her sorrows were healed and she was given the name Gladia and bore to her husband three sons and two
daughters.
The eldest of her sons was, of course, Daruvis, who would later be known in Weldera as the Lord of Havoc. It was largely due to his deeds at the end of the wars of Czylost that Dadron fell and his kin were slain.
Sol, also, met his end at this time, along with his sons outside the gates of Dadron. Primsol, of course, had perished at the hand of Captain Proud of Lapulia during Lord Pelas' quest to slay the Thunder Snake. The second born of Falruvis and Gladia was named Telruvis, a noble soul, who never seemed to question anything he was told. Their daughters Kalrua and Samua followed several hundred years later, born within twelve years of one another - which was somewhat unusual for elves. Many joked that it was due to Indra's great beauty that the pair produced children as quickly as they did. Finally a somewhat sickly child - a boy - named Marruvis was born to them.
Sol and his wife Silan had a son named Deusol, who had already made a name for himself during Pelas' quest. Their daughter Milan was born a few years after the Sundering, and nearly a thousand years later they brought Lorsol into the world. It was Lorsol who was the father of Solran, the grandson of Sol who would lead the elves of Solsis to their doom when at the behest of Lord Bralohi he tempted the King of Amlaman in the days following the Siege of Dadron.
After the high elves fled from Bel Albor, Sol reluctantly adopted the name Solruvis, which made him seem in the eyes of the mortals of Tel Arie to be the brother of Falruvis. The elves wished to create the illusion that they were not merely survivors of an ancient and fallen kingdom, but kindred progenitors, coming to the south to bring peace and wisdom.
Kolohi and his perpetually miserable wife Wellin begat Kollorn and Kuxni, who were, like the daughers of Falruvis, were very nearly twins in the eyes of the elves for having been born within a decade of one another. Kolohi and his wife, however, never had any other children - nor did they have anything to do with one another if they could help it. Kolohi was lost to the world during the fall of the Verder Kingdom in central Olgrost when Xanthur's devil generals ravaged the world. Some say that he slumbers beneath the ruins, waiting for the end of all things to come upon Tel Arie, but who can say?
Bralohi and his wife Biran had five sons and many unnamed daughters - unnamed to historians I mean. The eldest son was Aebral, who had been at his father's side since the time Pelas first encountered them in the Swamps of Thedul. Beside him was Edbral, Cadbral, Ilbral and Urbral - all of whom perished when Xanthur destroyed the Crystal Palace of Falruvis in Ilmaria, forcing the Argent or Silver Elves to flee to Dadron in Weldera.
Dalta and Ele, the kinswoman of Amro and Ghastin, had their daughter Dalele, whom history knows as Dalia. In later ages they had a son also, whose name in Bel Albor was Daltanse, though in Tel Arie he was known as Dalta II. This Daltanse was slain in the Race Wars of Czylost; his father, Dalta, was slain by Ollitov, the husband of the queen of Marin - which, of course, was founded by the descendants of his own daughter Dalia.
Xanthur became known as the Lord of Morarta during the long reign of Agonas in Sunlan. Eventually this title became Lord Morarta, and when the elves fled from Bel Albor this name was changed to Lord Morta so that the mortals might think that he and Dalta, both of whom were dark haired, were brothers. He hated this pretense from the very beginning, but condescended out of loyalty to the other elves. When he turned upon them in later ages, he turned on the name also, and took once again the name Xanthur, by which he is better known to the world and more hated.
He angered the elves greatly by marrying a mortal woman. He had been offered many noble elf daughters, but he found that he liked none of them, remembering his own roots and how the Adapnan of Thure had dwelt in union with the mortals. His wife's name was Mayana, and she bore him several children, only the youngest of whom was Adapnan - or one of the immortals. She was named Nashai-ne-Malia, and from the moment she was first presented at court in Ilvas at the age of twenty, she captured the heart of Daruvis, who pursued her against the will of both Falruvis and Xanthur. Her fate can be learned, of course, by a careful reading of the Wars of Weldera, so I will not repeat it here. Needless to say their romance was a difficult and a complicated one.
Malia's father was an official in the godless land of Sunlan, he was the head of the god-hunters, and the enemy of all things divine. Falruvis, on the other hand, was chief of the Doctrai, whose purpose was to see that no gods were worshipped in Alwan but Pelas himself.
The War of Divinity
In addition to the enmity between Agonas and Pelas was added the strife between Xanthur and the superstitious peoples of Bel Albor. Lord Parganas had long been content to let the mortals believe whatsoever they pleased, so long as they remained loyal to the throne in Alwan. But the coming of Xanthur had brought great changes in the east, and the ancient traditions and customs of the Essenes, Lupith and the Knariss began to lose favor, not only in the eyes of the elves, but also in the eyes of mortal men. King Ijjan had long manipulated the mortals of Sunlan by supporting the worship of the goddess Evnai. Agonas shrewdly argued that his coming had freed the people from the lies of the elves, who did not believe a word of what they taught the humans. He argued these things shrewdly, I said, but Xanthur and Gheshtick argued these things sincerely, and the people believed them. Rather, I should say, most of the people. No matter what they did or taught they could not quite drive religion from the people entirely.
The people of Sunlan, now believing themselves to be free of their ancient oppression, resisted the dogmas and teachings of their western neighbors most fervently. Wars and strifes erupted between the Sunlan men and the Essenes, and between the Lupith and the Knariss, and between just about every group of mortal men.
These conflicts were encouraged by Pelas when he lost possession of the territory between Thedul and Esse, and he made every effort to encourage religion in the people of that land. But even his own strategies came to nothing as he discovered that the men he supported would often end up fighting one another as much as they fought against the intruders from Sunlan. The only way to counter Pelas' schemes, of course, was with the doctrines and ideas of Xanthur, who slowly built up a group of men of like mind with himself to deal with such matters. This was the birth of the god-hunters, or the Ixthedin as he named them.
To counter this Pelas decided that it was time for the people of Alwan to have one faith and one doctrine. Thus he commanded Falruvis to manage the Doctrai, a group of teachers and scholars that were tasked with proving that Lord Pelas was, in fact, the only true god.
This was resisted fiercely at first, but the elves live for many generations and what is absurd to one generation may be merely laughable to the next, an old joke to the third, and very nearly sensible to the fourth. By the time of our present tale it was all but settled in Alwan that a god reigned in the west, and a devil in the east. In Sunlan it was believed that Pelas was a madman.
The creation of the god-hunters was by no means Xanthur's first solution to the problems of superstition and fanaticism. He first attempted to sway the people through reasoning, inviting their holy men to Sunlan Palace for counsel. None of them could answer his objections, but they held fast to their dogmas regardless. He tried to find some common manner of speaking that would permit some of their fanciful ideas to find more rational interpretations, but they resisted this as a subversive and evil attack upon their faith.
In the end the only thing he could do was let them be. But when wars threatened to overflow into Sunlan, and when he saw fields of slain men, butchered in the name of this or that spirit, he grew more and more enraged until finally he went to Agonas and, with his permission, created the Ixthedin, the 'negators of spirits' or the god-hunters, as they came to be known. Xanthur's will was set against the gods of Sunlan, until many religions and sects were driven to utter extinction, their legacies surviving only within the minds of Xanthur and Gheshtick, who studied their texts before burning them into nothingness.
The Essenes remained strong
in Ilvas, where Dalta's rule protected them in exchange for their loyalty, and several other groups maintained their customs in secret, but for the most part Sunlan had become bereft of faith altogether.
The conflict between Lord Pelas and Lord Agonas never quite came out into the open. Whether it was the Essenes against the Lupith, the Doctrai against the god-hunters or any other parties, the conflicts were kept well away from the domain of the elves, and Alwan and Sunlan grew in beauty and strength for thousands of years while the mortal lands warred against and killed one another in great numbers. Many of those who fought did not know that it was Pelas or his brother Agonas who had instigated the fight. This great unending conflict was called, even at the time, the War of Peace.
Vanished
'I locked the door myself,' Eberu said to Taral as they examined the empty chamber in which was housed the man known as Theodysus. 'I swear I locked it; I swear it by every god and every devil.'
'That oath won't do anything to calm the Lord of Morarta,' Taral said worriedly.
'I don't understand. There is no other way out of this hall. I have questioned the guards already, and they can give me no answers. There were three on duty last night, and they all hate one another enough that I have no need to think that they would conceal the other's guilt.'
'They said something about a fire,' Taral said. 'They say that they saw the halls filled with smoke. Surely that is when the prisoner escaped.'
'But smoke does not simply conjure itself into existence,' Eberu grumbled, in his mind remembering the arguments the prisoner had made. 'When smoke rises, fire leaps, they say - but where was the flame?'
'I cannot say, my lord,' Taral said, standing uneasily near the door of the cell.
Eberu fumbled with the chains that had bound his prisoner, trying to figure out if there was something amiss. But he could not puzzle out what had happened.
'What do you want me to do?' Taral asked. He was a soldier, not a scholar. This sort of investigation was something for which he had very little patience.
'Take the god-hunters and find that man!' Eberu shouted angrily. 'Take as many as you need and find him. He cannot have gone far from Morarta. Find him and kill him.'
Unlocking Morarta
It was not at all difficult for Candor Proud to find a way into the Keep of Morarta. On the very night that Eberu interrogated Theodysus Candor climbed the wall of the Keep quietly, finding a little used door that opened up to the roof. If ever the Keep were besieged this door would allow archers to take up positions atop the walls. But Morarta was well protected by other fortresses and barracks in the region, and had little need for such defenses. Candor picked the iron lock easily enough, greased the hinges and slipped soundlessly into the dark upper passages of the Keep.
He lurked about in the shadows for a time until he had gained some sense of what doors led to what corridors.
The stairs presented something of a challenge to him, as the only set of steps was also near the main hall and the dining room where the god-hunters were fed when they were in the Keep. There were a great many people who passed through this area, and there was seldom a time when there were no eyes on the stairs. Candor waited until dinner was served to make his descent. When the great mass of warriors passed into the dining room he crept down the steps quickly and silently, his soft shoes making no noise on the stones. A door opened and he laid himself flat upon the steps, the darkness of his cloak blending into the shadows - enough at least so that he was not discovered by the laughing soldiers who passed. When their footsteps vanished and the door to the dining hall swung shut, Candor crept down the remaining stairs on his belly like a serpent, rounding the corner of the stairs and vanishing into a small dark hallway.
He lurked silently in the halls for nearly an half hour until he finally found a single man resting contentedly in a dark corner of the Keep. He dropped low to the ground and crept over to the man quietly. In a flash he put a cloth over the man's mouth and waited as the man breathed in the potion in which the cloth had been soaked. The man's panicked breath grew easy again, and he stopped struggling. Looking into the man's hazy eyes Candor asked, 'There is a book that was brought here lately. Where is it? Do you know where such things are kept? It was sent for Lord Eberu.'
'The man thought for a long while, seemingly having a hard time remembering even who Lord Eberu was. Candor feared that he had, perhaps, soaked the cloth for too long. It was hard to tell without his book. 'I will have to check the measurements,' he thought to himself.
But the man eventually seemed to remember something about books. 'Books go, to Xanthur,' he said, 'there is a library - a burning room. They burn the books there.'
Where is it?' Candor hissed frantically, unable to fully subdue his panicked emotions. Seven years of his life had been spent making that book. Seven years!
The Spell-books of the Lapulian Mages were made strong enough to withstand a great deal of abuse. But they could not long withstand fire. The Black Adder were the only ones permitted to carry such a book beyond the city's limits. This, of course, was precisely the reason for this restriction. If but one fool got his hands on such a book, and if that fool by some chance managed to figure out its secrets, the power of Lapulia would be broken at once. For their power lay in their secrecy. They could perform wonders and marvels, but only wonders and marvels to those who did not know the means by which they performed them.
The true meaning of each book was different for each Black Adder. What Candor wrote was different from what every other Black Adder had written. You could not, by comparing them, discern what was said in each book. Moreover, each book held secrets only known to the Black Adder who created it. The secret of the Lapulian Firesling and Thunderstones were written within each book, so that a Black Adder could create the device wherever he happened to find himself, so long as he had the materials.
Each book had three distinct readings. This is what made the books so difficult both to produce and to understand. The plain meaning was almost always either utter nonsense or something completely unimportant. Candor's instructor, a somewhat eccentric Mage by the name of Courage, had written his entire book as a rather peculiar romantic poem. But this was only the surface reading. There was another way that the words could be interpreted that would render the passages meaningful, but yet incomplete. This was reserved for cases where the book had perhaps fallen into the hands of a torturer or an enemy scholar, who demanded to have the meaning explained. The second reading could, in such cases, be given to him. But whereas the true meaning might be the ingredients for a healing potion, the second reading would produce a toxin or a poison. There were generally some very useful potions that could be made entirely based upon the second reading of the text, but these were put into the book solely to inspire confidence in the captor's mind. There was a very famous account of one Mage who showed his captors how to make a potion to increase their muscle growth. After finding some success the captor began to make more potions from the book. In the end he made a 'Potion of Eternal Life' and gave it to the king of his country. The King, according to the account, died during the night.
The third reading was the true reading, and it represented everything that the Mages of Lapulia had discovered in their long history of study and practice. It also, as I indicated, represented the Black Adder's own discoveries. For this reason Candor's instructor had begun every lesson by saying, 'Never, ever, EVER, lose your Book!'
'Where is this library?' Candor asked again, shaking the man where he lay.
'It is past the prison, near Lord Morarta's chambers,' the man said.
Candor pressed the man further to learn the way to the prison. When he was confident that he knew the way he left the man to his sleep. The man would not remember anything from their conversation.
Candor passed down several more passageways before coming to a place that was guarded by three men, each facing in a different direction. He reached into his pocket
and drew out a tiny ball, no thicker than his thumb. He slid open a small lid on the surface of the ball and rolled it into the center of the room. It was small enough that the men did not notice it until it burst, filling the room with smoke. Candor plunged into the smoke and darted quietly past the guards, slipping into the prison without being noticed. He only had a few more Smokers; he would need the book to make more.
He came at last to a large hall with a number of identical doors. He tested them and found that most of them were just empty cells. But the fifth door was locked. He quickly drew out his lock-pick and opened the door. The little light that entered the room from a torch in the hallway was enough to let him know that this was no library. There was a table in the center of the room and some heavy chains hanging upon the wall.
He quickly shut the door and moved on to the next room. This room had a heavier lock, which took a few moments for him to open. But when he entered he found a room filled with scrolls, parchments and books. There was a man in the room studying a document under the light of a single lamp hanging from the ceiling. 'The prisoner has escaped!' Candor shouted from outside the room. The man rose and darted out into the hall, but Candor tripped him as he passed through the door and struck him in the back of the head as he tumbled over. He fell to the ground in a heap.
Candor slipped inside and quickly searched the room for his book. Panic began to overtake him, and the prospect of not only entering, but escaping from the Keep of Morarta began to weigh heavily upon his mind. His whole mission had been taken over by this quest after his book. He had failed. He lost the book, he was leagues from his true destination, and he was going to be caught - or, rather, he was going to kill himself to avoid such a fate. As fear began to overtake him he glanced at the paper on the table. It was a register of some kind, and on it was written the titles of a great many books. At the very bottom of the list was written, 'Kharku mythology', and beside it was written, 'To Ilvas'. The signature beside the title simply read 'Xan'.
Candor quickly left the room and stepped carefully over the body of Deriks, who was the man he had knocked unconscious. As he approached the entrance to the prison he rolled out another Smoker and slipped out, carefully counting his steps until he came once more to the stairs. In the chaos he passed many well-meaning god-hunters who were running into the smoke with buckets filled with water to put out a fire that did not exist. He found his way to the roof once again and slipped over the wall, not realizing that he was not the only one to walk out of Morarta that evening.