Crisanas Castle was in uproar. Prince Elramas had not returned. There had been no news for weeks. Carrier Hawks returned with their messages intact. The calling crystals remained dark. Seers could not sense and wizards failed to find them. The King was distraught. The Queen was inconsolable. The kingdom was upset and even Lethanas worried about his brother. Elves ran around trying to formulate plans and calm the Queen. Therefore, Lethanas had taken to roaming the forest to think clearly. It was during one of these perambulations that he came across some bad news, it was a survivor. The poor Elf had ridden up from the Arasken Plains on a horse no fitter than he. Flesh hung in strips from the once beautiful features of his mount, the Elf’s hair was matted, plastered to his and the horses’ neck with blood. His breath came ragged and short. Lethanas ran up to him recognizing the remnants of clothing to be that of the Crisanas scouts, the ones who had been with his brother. However before he could ask any questions the wounded soldier grabbed his arm in a vice-like grip, his eyes widened as he hissed;
“He’s taken…ambush…no survivors…no hope…he’s gone”
“Who’s gone?” said Lethanas, looking into the elf’s wild eyes.
“...the prince...he’s....” The soldier managed before he collapsed onto Lethanas.
Lethanas could just about make out the Elf’s heartbeat. Quickly he took hold of the horse’s reigns and whispered in its ears. The horse nickered and allowed Lethanas to climb up behind the injured soul. Lethanas urged the poor beast into a gallop through the dense forest to the small sub kingdom of Hadír where healers and helpers could be found.
~*~
Lethanas entered the stables in a flurry of hooves, calling for help. Stable hands ran to meet him, taking the injured Elf up to the main keep and bringing the injured stallion to the healers. Lethanas nervously followed them up through the streets. A bad feeling was coursing through his veins. He followed them through to the infirmary. He watched the healers strip and bathe the wounds, helping as much as he was able, before he was eventually told there was nothing left they could do but wait.
~*~
Lethanas was pacing the library, he couldn't rest. The sense of foreboding grew within him, doubling with every hour. He could not help but feel that this was only the tip of the iceberg. Several hours passed. Around dawn, Elthanas entered looking very grave. Lethanas glanced over from the window, he asked expectantly;
"Has he awoken?"
"No my liege, there is worse news." Elthanas said sadly.
"Is it worse than a missing heir?"
"The sickness is back, my Lord, the sleeping sickness."
"Impossible! King Lioner eradicated it thousands of years ago!" Lethanas exclaimed, as horror ran throughout his body.
"I am sorry sir, but it has already wiped out several small villages in Nalath, and is spreading quickly. The Celessar* and his majesty the king, request your presence in the Astírian Temples immediately." Elthanas continued dejectedly
.Lethanas sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. Elthanas walked over and grasped his master’s shoulder in a comforting manner;
"I will stay with the soldier. If there is any change I will report at once." He told him.
"Thank you my friend," Lethanas said softly before walking out.
*Elven priests
~*~
Elnamed and Celestaren of the Celessar were waiting at the temples doors when Lethanas arrived. Minor priests rushed forward to take his horse, and Lethanas moved silently forward to greet his father, who looked gaunt and distressed. His fine sculptured features and dark eyes were full of grief. He appeared to have aged over night and fine grey hairs ran throughout his chestnut mane. Beside him stood Celestaren the Head Priest, and direct correspondent with the Astír. He seemed almost ethereal, silver hair and eyes* and clothing of pure midnight made him seem almost godly and powerful. He gestured the father and son inside with his polished staff.
* A priest/priestess is marked from birth. They are born with silver hair and eyes. The males are the only Elves who can grow facial hair.
While the outside of the temple had been rather plain and circular, the inside revealed rich paintings of the heavens, constellations and galaxies. There was a circle of arches which opened up onto the centre of the room, where a plain marble slab sat in the middle of a pool. There was no roof, and the waters reflected the dawn’s morning rays on its surface. Candelabras stood in niches, lighting the building from the edges in. It was very beautiful and peaceful. Lethanas loved it here, but for the moment he would rather have been anywhere else. Around the marble altar and pool, a ritual of candles, sacred stones and incense had been set up.
They were to call of the Astír, the seers, to ask for knowledge and wisdom. But it was old magic, blood magic. The three Elves took their places, walking to different points around the pool where there were stepping stones out to centre. They removed daggers from their waists, and started the low chant which began the summoning. As one they slit their right hands with the blades, their song lilting and dipping in beautiful harmony. When they had reached the altar, they each picked up a stone with a rune upon it, waiting until it had absorbed some of their blood before returning them. Their chanting increased, and suddenly the candles around them shot flames up into the heavens, joining to become a beam of light and a passageway for the Astír.
Their voices rang around the temple, echoing their song. Together they knelt and bowed their heads, offering their hands to this beam of light and finished their chant. A flash of pure blue light signalled that their ritual had been a success. Lethanas kept his head bowed, it was forbidden to look upon the Astír unless worthy (a priest) and he shivered as he felt the Star Elf speak. The Elf's words entered his mind without actually entering his ear;
"Why do you summon us?" The chiming voices asked.
"It is my son, O noble ones. He has been taken by force by the enemy. We do not know what has happened to him." Elnamed whispered haltingly.
"It is not your son you should be worried for. It is your people. The sleeping sickness has returned and the prophecy with it. We foresee that it will be worse than before. Many thousands will sicken and perish. You must find the immortal waters once more."
The Astírs words made Lethanas sick, but his father however could not be swayed.
"If my son were to return, he would be more than able to find the Stone." He put forward.
"Another son you have, do you not." It was a statement not a question. "Send him to Oess, the reincarnation of Ríanna has returned to Erethe. They will guide you to the waters, you must do this, and it will be hard. But if you succeed, you will eradicate the disease for ever more."
Lethanas felt the comment directed at him. But before he could reply, his father interrupted again.
"Please! If you chose my other son I can promise that he will-"
"ENOUGH!" The Astír shouted together, the force of their words making the three Elves flinch. "The heir of Lioner must finish what he started. We have foreseen it. Your first born will return in due course, and then you may realise his worth."
Elnamed gave in, and he bowed his head to them.
"As you wish," He said despondently.
"You must leave by the end rising of the next full moon, speed is a must. For the dark one is also aware of Ríanna's successor. You must reach them before him. Do you understand?"
"Yes, my Lords."
"Very good, do not fail, or the downfall of Elf kind will arise." The Astírs voices whispered.
And with that ominous sentence, in an instance the light winked out, bringing the Astír with it, and replacing it with morning.
~*~
ESTÁS LEYENDO
The Immortality Stone - The Cardinal
FantasíaWhat would you do if you woke up in a different world? Where there were Wizards and Talking Trees and Elves, would you accept it? No, of course you wouldn't. You'd think you had gone off the deep end! Which is exactly what 16 year old, Sameeca Yarro...
