Chapter IX:
The Vanishing of the Elves
The Breaking of Alwan
Pelas did not expect the seige of Alwan to last overly long. Noro's betrayal had pushed him back behind his walls, and divided his armies. But the greater part of his forces were yet intact and, he believed, they would soon march against Noro and his Blest, making an end of their foolish rebellion. The only thing that truly unsettled him about the whole ordeal was the fact that Noro had not done all this with Sunlan's aid, but he had betrayed Agonas as well. He laughed bitterly as he realized that he was as angry that Noro had betrayed his brother as he was that the man had turned against him. The thought came to him that he still bore affection for his twin; but he refused to acknowledge the idea.
His musing as well as his hope was shattered by the arrival of a hawk. Maru, who had escaped Noro's attacks with a large force of elvish warriors, entered his throne room without announcement, bearing a roll of parchment in his fist and a hawk on his forearm. 'My Lord Pelas,' he began quickly, not waiting to be acknowledged. Pelas looked at him with annoyance - he believed Maru was growing more willful every minute. Now, however, was not the time to reassert his authority. 'The northern armies are lost. This message was sent to us from Urla, near unto the Erall River.'
'Speak clearly, Maru,' Pelas said, sitting up quickly. 'What armies are lost? and how?'
'All of your northern armies, my lord,' Maru said sternly. 'All of them.'
'But how is this possible?' Pelas thundered. 'This fool of Anathed-'
Maru interrupted him with a fearful shake of his head, 'Dragons, my lord. The message cuts short, but it seems as though they have poured into Alwan from the Far North in numbers beyond all reckoning.'
Pelas sat silently for a moment, absolutely stunned by the news.
'My lord,' Maru began. This time Pelas interrupted him.
'Say nothing, Maru,' Pelas said. 'Everything is greater for the elves than for mortal men. Both our glories and our shames. Do not speak of truce or peace, surrender or parley. There will be none. If Pelas must fall, great will be his fall - even as was his rise. I will not suffer this infant to sit on my throne.'
In his heart he cursed fate, but he said to Maru, 'We have preparations to make.'
All of the ingenuity and wisdom of the immortals, then, was put toward the task of preparing for the army of the Blest a great and terrible trap - a trap from which none, not even Pelas himself could hope to escape.
The Red Handed
Agonas, in the meantime, was hiding away in holes and caves in the swampland of southern Lushlin. His force dwindled as his servants fell one by one to the hunters of the Blest, who seemed not to rest from the task of hunting the dark son of Parganas. Noro meant this strike to be fatal for both kingdoms, and he poured all his will into the hunt for Agonas.
'Were it not for you, master Zefru,' Agonas said cautiously,' we would have died long since. But we cannot continue thus for much longer. You have lived all these years by cunning, and no man has ever caught you - do not, then, fail us now. You must know of some way we might escape these children.'
Zefru looked at his master calculatingly. While everyone trusted his abilities, no man trusted him. After some thought Zefru said, 'There is a place,' he began, trying to sound as though he had not the whole strategy planned out already, 'where the swampland has for many years been flooded and impassible. It is so wretchedly difficult a place that no man would think to search for us there. We can make it from Lushlin to Ilvas, and then to the Esse.' When he said 'us' it sounded as though the idea of saving anyone but himself had been an afterthought.
'Why have we not tread this path before, oh master of Evnai? Gheshtick asked him warily. He had himself saved Zefru from at least two rather perilous situations, and he knew how little faith was to be found in the dark elf. 'If you meant to save us, you would have spoken sooner.'
'We are not Doctrai,' Zefru hissed, 'what need have we to pretend that we keep to their morals? You have known me long, lord Gheshtick, and you also, Lord Agonas. And I have known you both also. We have always done as we had to do; and so also now will I do as I must. I could make you promises, but they would serve you no better than any other words I can say. If I meant to abandon you, I could have done so at any time. But I will not lie and say that I have remained for love or loyalty.'
Agonas looked at him with a grim face and then nodded. 'We can get back to the Esse, but then what? Shall we challenge the dragons in the Talon mountains? Shall we leave with all the others who wish to depart these shores?'
'I will,' Zefru said without hesitation. Gheshtick nodded agreement.
'I would not mind seeing the southern lands again. I would like to see the Deplund of the dwarves, at least its borders.'
Agonas laughed, 'Perhaps they have forgotten us in the Kingdom of Seasons. I would not hate dwelling there, amidst those wise and clever people.'
'You are a fateful man,' Gheshtick said, 'could you really abandon kingship? Could you abandon it to your brother?'
A fire seemed to kindle in Agonas' eyes and he threw a rock he had been handling into the swamps, scattering some frogs with the sound. He said nothing.
Zefru said nothing also, though his mind was filled for a moment with the soothing, swaying music of the forest of LofBrusht, where he had, an age ago it seemed, been a prisoner happily.
'You are an immortal,' Gheshtick said, as if he were not the same also, 'where could you go that you might hope to escape Fate?'
For a few more hours they sat there and spoke, and for only those few hours they were not lords or servants, but mere men and comrades.
Their plans were interrupted by an anguished shout followed by a splash as one of the elves who had been standing guard fell into the swamp with an arrow in his chest. The elves rose in a flash and drew their blades. Zefru vanished almost immediately, taking cover among the brambles and bushes that littered the swamplands. A dozen men with swords approached, and learned that the High Elves had not attained their fame and might through trickery or deceit. The dwarf-steel blades tore through the flesh of Noro's hunters as though they were men made of ribbon. At least two dozen more men approached however, and Gheshtick called Agonas to flee. Elves fell on every side of them, some of whom they knew well and who had served them for many hundreds of years. In the end only Xanthur, Agonas, Zefru and Gheshtick, along with a few whose names have been lost to historians, escaped the battle and made their way east and south, desperately searching for a path that might lead them to safety. 'This is not good!' Zefru cursed. 'We are cut off from all escape! I have scouted these lands well.'
Behind them they could hear the chain armor of Noro's men approaching, and the excited shouts of his soldiers met their ears, filling them with dread. Agonas cursed and struck the ground with his fist, sinking his arm down to the elbow in the mud. 'Pelas I curse you! It did not need to be thus! It was your doing! I curse you! I curse you!'
Gheshtick looked away and shook his head. 'How many men have died for you, and now you curse death like a little girl?' he longed to say. But he held his tongue, wanting to retain as much dignity as he was able to. He did not want to be remembered for any pettiness or cowardice in his final hour.
'Come, now!' a voice called out to them from above.
There, standing as if upon the very wind, a man stood, robed in white with scarlet edges and wearing a golden belt. 'You have but a moment to trust me,' he said, reaching a hand down toward them. His hand was red and dripping as though it were covered in fresh blood. Nonetheless Agonas reached out and took the stranger's hand. The whole world seemed to swirl, and the others were caught up together with him. The lot of them vanished before the very eyes of their pursuers.
The Harbor
An elf stumbled into the camp of the Enthedu, carelessly falling over their tripwires and warning bells. The women gathered their children to flee, and the men gathered themselves to withstand the intruders - t
o sacrifice themselves so that the others could escape. But the elf had not come, as many others had done, to prey upon a helpless band of fanatics. 'Help, please!' he said before collapsing to the ground. 'Take me to the harbors! Take me to the south!'
They could get little more from him until they had forced him to drink a bowl of hot broth and eat a loaf of bread and some cheese. 'Master,' Nihls said calmly, when at last the man seemed to have calmed his nerves. 'What is your trouble?'
'We have to get out of here,' he said, very nearly rising from his seat by the fire.
Teacher Eren, who stood nearby watching the elf carefully, placed a strong hand upon the elf's shoulder, gently keeping him in his seat. 'Why must we leave?'
'They are coming; they devour everything that opposes them. Flee! We must flee!' the elf raved.
'What is your name?' Nihls asked.
'My name is Rinin,' the elf replied. 'I am the master of -' he paused as if correcting himself, 'I WAS the master of Lord Falruvis' ships. There is a way to pass from the Great Lake to the western seas; I have sailed it thrice, in order to do commerce with the southern lands for my master's sake. There is a way! And there are ships too - more than enough for your people.'
'Ships?' Eren asked suspiciously. 'Why should we abandon the North? What is devouring - what is coming?'
'The sons of the Dragon!' Rinin said, his face draining of blood and his lips quivering. He retained not so much as a hint of the dignity one might expect from a servant of the High Elf Falruvis.
Into Nihls' mind resounded the words of Teacher Abbon, spoken long ago, 'the Dragon is not dead until he is dead within you.' He started at the thought. But he did not think Abbon was speaking of these creatures.
'How do we know that you are speaking the truth?' Teacher Eren asked.
Rinin looked up at him in amazement, as though he could not imagine how any could doubt him. 'You have heard the tales, no doubt,' Rinin said. 'They are true. Bel Albor is finished. The gods have cast off the sons of Parganas, and the end of the immortals is at hand.'
'How do we know that you speak the truth?' Eren repeated himself. He knew that Nihls would do everything he could to help the man - probably even if the elf meant simply to rob the Enthedu blind. The very least he could do was press the man for answers.
The man started and reached for his coat pocket as if suddenly remembering something. He took out a long barb like the stinger of a hornet. 'Some of the dragons are armored in barbs and horns such as these,' he said. When I lost my sword, this was all that remained to preserve me against the brigands who now roam freely through Alwan.'
Eren considered the barb for a moment and then turned his eyes back on Rinin's face. He drew close and stared at the man, 'Why are you alone? Have you no kin or family, that you would flee Bel Albor alone? You said that you were the servant of Lord Falruvis. But what of him? Are you going to prepare his ships, or to steal them and save your own skin?'
'There are no more masters in Bel Albor,' the man hissed. 'And I have a daughter in Alwan, but she is lost - that whole city is lost. Whether the Anathedan or the dragons take it, it matters not. There is no hope for any of them.'
'The Anathedan,' Nihls said to himself quietly. 'How many ships are there?' he asked.
'Nihls,' Eren began, fearing rightfully that the younger man was believing the elf's tale.
'How many ships, master Rinin?' Nihls insisted respectfully.
'There are hundreds,' Rinin answered. 'Pelas never knew of them. For he would have forbidden both their making and their use. Ever fearful of the lands outside he was.'
'We will take you to these ships,' Nihls said.
'Nihls!' Eren began.
'He is speaking the truth, I believe,' Nihls said. 'Too many are the accounts of these dragons, Teacher,' Nihls argued. 'We are not heroes or warriors; we must flee them even as we have fled Alwan's warriors. And whether there are dragons or not, if it is true that the Anatheda truly besiege Pelas' abode, then the Enthedu must leave these sures.'
'But why?' Eren asked. 'Is this not what we have always dreamed of? The end of the elves and their wickedness! Think on it, Nihls!'
'There is a Dragon more to be feared than those that walk abroad in the flesh - if such there be,' Nihls said. 'Now that the Blest have taken Bel Albor, will they tolerate a people who, being different, teach that their ways are wrong ways? Noro will not look favorably upon us if the crowns of Bel Albor fall into his hands. And if he falls, then the Immortal King Pelas will think even less of us, who share a root, though perhaps not a trunk, with the tree of the Blest.'
Eren's face was almost pure white as he considered all of these omens.
'We have long known that the teachings of Theodysus must leave the North and pass into Tel Arie,' Nihls said. 'The time has come to depart these lands and to pass into the south.'
The Broken Kingdom
Noro led a somber procession into the ruined walls of Alwan Palace. He knew now that he had waited too long to attempt to break into the city. He could not say for sure whether he would have been able to defeat Pelas, but even a rout would not be worse than what befell his men.
As soon as the greater part of his forces had entered the city it seemed as though every tall tower and ever high building collapsed, falling in upon the marching army. In the midst of the chaos and confusion the forces of Pelas attacked, and the high elves struck hard against the Blest and their allies. Great pits opened in the streets and swallowed many thousands of the Blest. Pelas had prepared his city for this invasion well. 'He may take Alwan,' Pelas admitted, 'but by the time he sits upon the throne nothing of Alwan will remain.' It seemed to the Blest as though the throne itself was the only thing in the city that did not have either a trap or a legion hidden behind it. Even so it took Noro a few days before he was willing to sit down upon the throne.
He sat amidst the ruins of the palace King Parganas had made out of the stones carried out of Mount Vitiai itself. He had fought well, and he had broken both the eastern and western kingdoms of the immortals. But despite the apparent hopefulness of the future he felt in his soul that he was the ruler of a dead and ruined kingdom. The wind blew strong through the broken stones of the palace, and Noro shivered on the throne - but not merely because the air felt colder than it ought to have been. He was a young man still, but he could feel the age of the place, and it made him feel weary of life itself.
They had searched for the better part of a week now, and they could find no trace of Lord Pelas or his chief servants. Some high elves were found dead among the ruins, and many more they had accounted for in the battles that preceded the seige. But not a trace of Pelas seemed to remain. This wearied Noro even more than the ancient stones upon which he sat. For it meant that in all likelihood he had yet to face Lord Pelas and his brother. What concerned him most was the fact that they, being immortal, could wait a thousand years before exacting their revenge against what remained of his descendants. They could hide away in dark Kharku for three centuries and return with an army to slay the sons of Noro. For this reason he resolved that the kingdom he established would be strong, and ready to face whatever perils might come against it. In his dark reasonings he decided that the son he had fathered by Meidi would prove stronger than whatever might have come from the foolish Giretta.
Ilnoron was his son, and he would not abandon him. But his line, he decided, would pass through Meidi's son. In this way the blood of Blest Candorion himself would be the foundation of the new kingdom. The mere fact that he considered all of this, and began committing parts of it to writing, reveals that he was as ready as Old Parganas to falsify history. To make Candor Proud the root of a royal family was to turn everything the Enthedu had for all their long years quietly labored to retain upon its head.
He made many plots and plans about how he would draw Nihls and his people into the north, so that he could take Meidi to himself, and raise their child as his heir. But as Fate would have it, Nihls came
to him of his own free will.