The Death of Magick: A Trilogy of the Land of Donothor: Part Three

By Benjamin Towe

Envision a naive young man beguiled, robbed, and ridiculed by a beautiful sorceress. Imagine the young man became the greatest assassin that ever lived. See in your mind's eye an assassin consumed by hatred of all things Magick and committed to their destruction. Visualize the creation- through the power of a Wish- of an artifact of great power to assist his quest. Picture the assassin's second Wish- a Wish for more time and a labyrinth to keep his treasure forever secure from any that might seek the artifact. Realize the consequences of the imperfect Wish- albeit difficult, a path to the assassin's treasure, the Death of Magick.

Envision the struggle across space and time between a just and powerful sorceress with rainbow tresses and a demon of timeless evil. The sorceress must seek the weapon created to bring about her destruction.The strongest and wisest of two very different worlds attempt to unravel the mysteries of ancient parchments and devise a plan to defeat the demon threatening both worlds. A new generation of Donothor and Parallan- empowered by Light, Dark, and Illusory Magick- accepts the challenge and assists their king and mentors.

What roles have a beautiful mysterious red-haired elf, the bloodline of an enemy, and an artifact of evil? Will the sacrifices of generations be for naught? If they find the Death of Magick, will the weapon destroy them before they face the demon?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 24, 2006
• ISBN: 9781425963125

Benjamin Towe

Benjamin Towe is a dedicated Whovian, crafty old Dungeon Master, and lover of all things magic and make believe. Ben is a graduate of Mt. Airy (NC) High School, Davidson College, and the University of Virginia School of Medicine. Dr Towe served five years in the US Army Medical Corps and has practiced family medicine. Doctor “T” loves reading and writing science fiction and fantasy novels. The novels of the Donothor and Elfdreams series are Doctor T’s Rx for fantasy. Children of Magick joins his literary family of Justful Deception, the Queen’s Secret, Thirttene Friends, Dawn of Magick, Lost Spellweaver, First Wandmaker, Wandmaker’s Burden, Emerald Islands, Mender’s Tomb, Deathquest to Parallan, Orb of Chalar, Chalice of Mystery, Death of Magick, and Unwonted Spellweavers. Escape to an Elfdream! Happy reading!

Book preview

© 2010 Benjamin Towe. All rights reserved. 3/8/2010

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse

ISBN: 978-1-4259-6312-5 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4259-6310-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4259-6311-8 (hc)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2006909355

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34:

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 41

CHAPTER 42

CHAPTER 43

CHAPTER 44

CHAPTER 45

CHAPTER 46

CHAPTER 47

CHAPTER 48

CHAPTER 49

CHAPTER 50

CHAPTER 51

CHAPTER 52

CHAPTER 53

CHAPTER 54

CHAPTER 55

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Prologue

Raucous laughter filled the busy tavern in Kanath. Revelers clanked their mugs together and sang boisterously. The rowdy mirth in the tavern created the perfect environment for a young thief to hone his skills.

Tigarn traveled upriver from lands east of the Iron Mountains. The young thief’s father was well-known in the wild and lawless eastern lands. Zophrane Nocerre promised his son family heirlooms and secrets if the young man progressed in his skills.

Tigarn was very good. He always left the tavern with more than he came with. He chuckled after fights ensued when his victims accused others of his handiwork.

The ale was bitter. Suddenly the drink sweetened.

She arrived.

The red-haired vixen appeared regularly at the tavern. This night she wore a simple purple dress which clung alluringly to her shapely figure. She was stunning! Brigands, woodsman, fisherman, miners, gypsies, tramps, and thieves- all the tavern’s patrons clamored and competed for her attention. She cast coy looks in Tigarn’s direction. The Charm Spell failed- the young thief didn’t realize he resisted the Magick. However, charisma worked where Magick failed. Her dark eyes and captivating smile mesmerized the youthful bandit!

Would he ever win more than a passing glance?

She always left the tavern with another.

Heavily armed Dark Elves always accompanied the vixen. The Dark Elves always remained silent, sober, vigilant, and unwearied- they waited outside the tavern. Dark Elves’ most defining feature was their eyes- dark as night, and just as mysterious.

The vixen’s flaming red hair cascaded gracefully down her back. Her features were otherwise unmistakably elfish. Tigarn knew many elves but no others with red hair.

What…

Was this to be his night?

She walked seductively over to his table and sat down. Had the ale given him a mild headache? Tigarn had always been able to hold his ale. For The opportunity to sit with her was worth tolerating the headache. They shared ale. Her smile was more intoxicating! The young thief happily accepted her invitation to walk in the moonlight and exited the tavern with the enchantress.

Tigarn did not see the Dark Elfish guards. Where were they?

She was even more beautiful in the moonlight. She lightly kissed his lips- wonderful! He touched her perfectly smooth skin- wonderful! She gently touched his fingertips and slowly rolled hers over them- wonderful! Her touch was so soft- wonderful! Her movement was graceful. Her soft voice purred into his longing ears. Her alluring fragrances thrilled him. He opened his mouth to whisper, but she placed a slender finger over his lips and then kissed him passionately- wonderful! Vision, taste, touch, hearing, and speech- his senses were overwhelmed.

The melodic elfish incantation soothed and relaxed the young thief. Incantation!

He could not fight sleep!

Tigarn awakened.

He was cold! He had a terrible headache! Every nerve ending in his body fired at the same time. Slowly his eyes focused…he must have died!

Tigarn looked upon the face of an angel. Or was it a beautiful woman? She wore a glistening white robe. Her eyes sparkled- he wasn’t sure of their tint. Her hair flowed gracefully down her back, crossed over the front of her full chest, and contained all the hues of the rainbow.

The woman talked quietly.

Tigarn Nocerre didn’t comprehend her words but noted pain left his body as she spoke.

His clothes!

He wore simple raiment- Tigarn didn’t recognize the garb worn by the Curates of the Fane of the Setting Sun.

Knarra removed the Charm Spell with a simple Dispel Magick incantation.

The Magick assailed Tigarn’s senses!

He now heard the woman clearly.

This sure is happening a lot? Are we sure that sprites or gremlins from the Misty Forest aren’t fomenting mischief? This one is lucky to be alive, she said.

A male voice asked, Is he OK?

He should be no worse for the wear. I hope whatever led to his situation was in some way worth it for him, the soft voice added.

Tigarn could speak.

Where am I? Who are you? he shouted.

He was relieved to find he was not restrained.

You are at the Fane of the Setting Sun, young traveler. My name is Knarra. We intend you no harm. You are safe here. Do you remember what happened to you? the woman’s voice queried.

No! I don’t… how did I get here? he stammered.

You were fortunate. Two of my gentle parishioners found you walking aimlessly and unclad upon the road between Kanath and Three Forks. Luckily you did not wander into the Misty Forest; luckily, also, one of the denizens of the forest did not discover you first and make a meal of you. Sam and Dave brought you here in the midnight hour. You kept saying ‘Hold on!’ and ‘I’m a whole man.’ You don’t sing very well. But I find no evidence of serious injury. I placed a ‘Heal Infirmity’ spell upon you anyway. Then I cast Dispel Magick. We ponder the means of your enchantment, the woman added.

Tigarn said nothing more. His father Zophrane had warned him of a sorceress in the north. Tigarn climbed off the comfortable couch, left the room, and walked into the quadrangle of the bustling Fane. Many men walked about in the raiment he wore. The thief knew of the Fane of the Setting Sun- he was but three days from Lyndyn! Not a good spot for a thief! His father also warned him of the diligence of the Rangers of Lyndyn!

The sneaky youth managed to steal enough clothing to redress his wiry frame. He didn’t have to steal food. He feasted in the buttery- the Curates welcomed him. One of the Curates gave him Dakin. These people gave away food and currency!

A friendly guard gave Tigarn a short sword and scabbard.

The guard stood beneath the breastwork between the large gate towers. Wall stairs led to a wide allure. Bastions looked upon the fields before the massive keep. Catapults and ballistae lined one of the long walls. This fortress was a tough nut for an enemy to crack!

The guard said, You should not leave the freehold unarmed. As soon as you pass beyond my sight you will be in peril. Watch your step!

Knarra watched the young man scurry down the winding road that led away from the gates. Pirmis, a promising young Curate, approached the priestess.

He stole from the rectory, my lady. Should I detain him? Pirmis asked.

No. He is only a petty thief. And evidently not a very good one! The area will be better off if we allow him to leave and practice his trade elsewhere, the priestess answered.

Knarra noted nothing unusual about the young man. In recent weeks she had treated many men with similar symptoms. There had been reports of disappearances, rumors of a red-haired enchantress, and stories of an experienced highwayman. The Rangers increased patrols but never found an answer to the enchantments. The episodes ended as mysteriously as they began.

The red-haired vixen received an unexpected gift from the tryst with the handsome young thief she victimized. She traveled to the Dark Elves’ stronghold under the pretext of studying the ways of her grandfather King Cellexa. She was taken in by her mother’s twin sister Businda. Her secret remained with the wise Businda. Businda and elfish handmaidens cared for Chalar during her confinement- there was no better care than that given by the elfish midwives. The baby was conceived before her mother had been fully seduced by the evil dreams that ultimately consumed her. Ravenna was a beautiful child with predominately elfish features. But some of her traits were definitely not elfish- blazing red hair and powers of Magick.

The child’s mother returned to her home, and Businda raised Ravenna. No one had the audacity to ask the child’s lineage. Ravenna flourished due to her aunt’s love and affection. Ravenna was blessed with the longevity of her maternal grandfather’s people. Dark Elfish blood also flowed through her veins. Other blood…

Businda gave the child the family name Nocerre. Her niece- the child’s mother- had etched the name on a parchment along with the phrase charming and better looking than most.

Businda succeeded her father and became queen of the Dark Elves.

When Ravenna matured, Queen Businda did not oppose the youngster’s desire to seek her lineage. The queen didn’t know the identity of the child’s father. The extent of the queen’s knowledge was that he wandered north and bore the name Nocerre.

Queen Businda followed a plan of strict isolationism. Too many Dark Elves had died in the war fomented by her twin sister Alluna’s life-mate Morlecainen and a bloody campaign against the Gray Elves led by her brother Lexx. The Dark Elves prospered under her wise rule.

Ravenna Nocerre heard many stories of men wandering to the north. She learned of a red-haired enchantress.

When she looked into a mirror, Ravenna Nocerre saw a red-haired enchantress.

Red-haired elves were rare.

Did red-haired elves share a common lineage?

Were all red-haired elves enchantresses?

Ravenna went north and searched futilely. Eventually her travels led to the Fane of the Setting Sun. She talked with Knarra but the priestess could not help the young elf. The young elf did not reveal her powers of Magick to Knarra. Although Knarra detected the oversight and sensed great complexity in the young elf, she found no essence of evil. Since the Great War Knarra bore deep suspicion of red-haired elfish sorceresses.

Ravenna finally abandoned the search for her father. She found purpose in service to the Rangers of Donothor. Ravenna became the first female of elfish blood to serve the Rangers. She developed great skill with the bow and short sword. She was quick of hand, skilled, won most games of chance, and held her ale very well. Ravenna revealed her power of Magick to no one.

Tigarn Nocerre rapidly made a name for himself. He learned the skills of his father well. Man, woman, child, elf, dwarf, goblin, and good, bad, or neutral- he killed and felt no remorse. He accepted any job if the price was right. Tigarn killed sorcerers or sorceresses at every opportunity. No fee was necessary!

His father passed to Tigarn the family heirlooms- the killing knife Sweetheart and other tools of the trade- the assassin’s trade.

Assassin.

The greatest assassin of his or any time!

There would never be a better one!

Chapter 1

So Far Away

Hiram was the son of the Light Sorceress Lena. Lydia was the daughter of the Light Sorcerer Gwindor, the leader of the order of Light Sorcerers. The union of Hiram and Lydia was celebrated far and wide because the two family lines had never before joined.

The union was fulfilled when Lydia was blessed by the birth of a daughter. The child brought a glimmer of hope to a struggling world. Her fine locks varied in coloration. The color changed with her infantile emotions, ranging from a peaceful blue when she slept to a fiery red when she was angered by hunger or fatigue. This characteristic pleased the child’s paternal grandfather Eyerthrin. Hiram’s father was a prismatic dragon.

These were trying times for the Light Sorcerers and the World of the Sorcerers.

The Dark Sorcerer Boton summoned the Demon Uyrg, and the tide of the war between darkness and light turned against Gwindor and the Light Sorcerers.

The Dark Sorcerers laid waste cities, and destroyed centers of learning, and wantonly wiped out the knowledge and progress of generations. The Light Sorcerers were compelled to seek refuge in the ancient caves of the great mountains where their ancestors first practiced the skills of Magick.

The daughter of Hiram and Lydia spent her childhood hiding in caves. She was an eager and talented student; at an early age she revealed potent skills of Magick. Her family made every effort to protect the child, but eventually Uyrg learned of her. The blood of his greatest enemies, Eyerthrin and Gwindor, flowed in the veins of the beautiful child. The demon channeled all his energies into pursuing, defiling, and destroying her. The demon and his minions found the cave.

The guards saw the demon’s approach- Uyrg did not rely on stealth. The demon assumed many physical forms but preferred to appear as a fiery hulk the height of two men and the width of three. He carried a great flaming sword and a massive cat o’ nine tails. Uyrg possessed enormous power of Magick, but the demon enjoyed destroying its foes with physical blows. Fire Magick had no effect on the demon- he was resistant to many spells. The guards fell quickly to blows from the great weapons and the tremendous heat emitted by the fiend. Although hideous, Uyrg’s charismatic aura was powerful, difficult to resist, and easily swayed the demon’s opponents. When battle ended, those charmed by Uyrg usually were often served at his table- as the main course not as guests.

Hiram, Lydia, and their followers fought valiantly. The Light Sorcerers attacked the demon with all the forces physical and Magick at their command. Spells only infuriated the great demon. Both noble Light Sorcerers fell before his attacks. Eyerthrin’s belated arrival with his daughter Taekora, Gwindor, and a large party of Light Sorcerers prevented the deaths of all within the cave. Uyrg realized that he was overmatched and retreated.

The survivors wept. Hiram and Lydia were lost.

Eyerthrin and Gwindor conferred.

Eyerthrin counseled, This world may be lost. I want to preserve something of our lineage. I’ll cast the Translocation Spell upon Taekora.

Eyerthrin used the extent of his powers to Translocate Taekora from Sagain to another world. The learned Eyerthrin sent a lock of Hiram and Lydia’s little daughter’s hair with Taekora and told the young dragoness to anticipate future associations with the youngster. The Translocation Spell which took Taekora to safety exhausted the life force of ancient Eyerthrin. The energies necessary to cast such a powerful spell drained the essence of even an ancient prismatic dragon. Before his last breath Eyerthrin passed the Tome of Translocation, the secret of the spell, and precious Shypoke eggshells, the material component needed to cast the great Magick, to Gwindor.

Gwindor swore an oath to Eyerthrin and accepted the task of caring for their granddaughter. He gave Eyerthrin’s last gift- a small prismatic scale shed by Taekora- to the child. Taekora possessed Knarra’s hair- Knarra possessed Taekora’s scale. The two were linked by Magick.

The arch sorcerer formulated a plan to rid the world of the pestilence of Uyrg. If his plan came to pass, Taekora and the young sorceress would have epochs to better a distant world. These were the dreams of the Light Sorcerer Gwindor.

The struggles between the hosts of sorcerers gripped and ripped their world for cycles of the binary suns. The lass grew beautiful, and her Magick was unsurpassed in the World of Sorcery.

The fortunes of war took an unexpected turn to the better for the Light Sorcerers. The most powerful Dark Sorcerer Boton inexplicably disappeared without a trace. It was rumored the greed of a Wish consumed Boton. Other rumors held that Uyrg consumed the Dark Sorcerer.

Gwindor’s plan successfully imprisoned Uyrg, but the great Magick went awry and cost the great sorcerer his life. The world lost the beauty and wisdom of his granddaughter- Knarra was not there to comfort him in his final minutes. The Translocation Spell sent her to a distant world where she had at least one ally.

The young Light Sorceress arrived in a simple world of one sun. The yellow sun’s luminosity was nowhere near that of the binary stars that illuminated the world of sorcery. She reunited with her aunt Taekora and rekindled the hope of Gwindor and Eyerthrin. The Light Sorceress and the Prismatic Dragon were inseparable- when they desired, they were indistinguishable.

The demon Uyrg was the bane of young sorceress’s parents and grandfathers.

But Uyrg was a world away.

Chapter 2

The Wedding

Cara had faced ogres, giants, goblins, dragons, wizards, witches, assassins, thieves, Drolls, Kiennites, Draiths, venomous snakes, spiders, demons, gargoyles, a Deathqueen, and a myriad of other beasts. None of these encounters rivaled planning a wedding.

There had been great celebration in Donothor when Prince Eomore, Cara, and the intrepid band of adventurers returned from the World of the Three Suns a year ago.

Many lost hope after the kidnapping of Princess Trya from Castle Lyndyn. King Eraitmus and other leaders of Donothor feared the return of chaos to the lands. Prince Eomore rescued his sister and discovered new allies.

The Rangers of Donothor further established order in the kingdom. Dangerous areas remained plentiful. The most important area in the northern lands was the Misty Forest. The dense forest south of Lyndyn was the home of many wild and unpredictable creatures. A road bisected the forest north to south, and a path crossed the region west to east. Traveling the road or the path required either great bravery or foolhardiness. Far to the south the Lachinor remained a land of mystery. There had only been minor transgressions of the denizens of the Lachinor in recent years. Donothor still faced threats from ogres and giants of the Iron Mountains to the east. Knarra’s Acolytes and Curates monitored the activities in the area closely and crushed earlier uprisings. The giants had not staged a serious attack in a long time.

Cara planned her big day in a time of optimism.

The ceremony of life-long commitment uniting Prince Eomore Aivendar and Cara Nightshade was marked on the social calendars of all citizens of Lyndyn and the kingdom of Donothor. Cade Nightshade, Cara’s younger brother, carried invitations throughout the kingdom. King Eraitmus Aivendar, the father of Prince Eomore, extended invitations to allies in other lands. The Aivendars invited every citizen of the kingdom to share in the joyful ceremony. Thousands intended to do just that!

Prince Eomore’s sister Tyra was Cara’s biggest helper and source of encouragement. Trya made practical suggestions. Queen Faerie, Eomore’s mother, did not.

Dresses, flowers, cakes, rehearsals, invitations, bridesmaids, and groomsmen- the list went on forever. Cara longed for a quiet time with her betrothed under a bright moon or even beneath the amber skies of the World of the Three Suns. Maybe even a fight with gargoyles!

There were new allies and old friends in the World of the Three Suns. Calaiz, the lord of the Draiths, Magrian, the teacher of the Drelves, and Nigel Louffette, the head of security at the Draith capital Ooranth, accepted invitations.

Ooranth was a different city since the fall of the Kiennite Deathqueen. Defense of the realm was heightened under the watchful eyes of Nigel Louffette. Nigel had been smitten by the gaze of a Drelve maiden named Deanne Dynning. He received the blessings of his master Calaiz and the teacher Magrian. The union of Nigel and Deanne occurred during an Approximation of Andreas the Gray Wanderer in the World of the Three Suns. The ceremony of life-long commitment was celebrated at Alms Glen, the sanctuary of the Drelves. During the next Approximation of the Gray Sun, Magrian confirmed the birth of a Spellweaver- the first in the equivalent of a thousand years. The Drelvling was given the name Dael. Dael was the son of Nigel Louffette and lovely Deanne. Magrian and Calaiz were ecstatic about the return of Magick to the Drelves. Magrian took Dael unto his tutelage.

The elders could find no record of Approximations occurring so quickly- in terms of time in Donothor, the Approximations were only a year apart. Dael’s birth had occurred just before the union of Cara and Eomore. Dael was a beautiful child.

Vannelei Runemaker, prince of the Gray Elves, and his sister Heather gleefully agreed to make the journey to Lyndyn. The seven clans of dwarves from Hillesdale would be well represented at the formal proceeding.

Cara remembered Tarrance and Rebecca Frathingham, the kind couple who took her and Cade in and gave them love, shelter, and comfort. The innkeeper from Kanath and his wife gratefully accepted the invitation.

Eomore chose his lifelong friend Brenigen as his man of honor. Brenigen was a dwarf better known by his moniker Boomer.

Trya would serve as Cara’s maid of honor.

Knarra the high priestess of Donothor and the sorcerer Roscoe accepted invitations and traveled from the Fane of the Setting Sun. The arch sorcerers of Donothor promised a surprise Eraitmus and his family a surprise. Roscoe and Knarra arrived with a bundle- a bundle of joy!

The announcement of the birth of the twins Eyerthrein and Kyrsstina was met with great joy. There was celebration throughout the kingdom of Donothor.

The love that had been unrequited for so long had been fulfilled in a ceremony of life-long commitment immediately after their return from Parallan. A year later the sorcerers were blessed with the twins Eyerthrein and Kyrsstina.

The boy was named for his great grandfather. His hair color changed with his facial expressions. His soft locks had all the colors of the rainbow. The girl was as lovely as the priestess Knarra and charmed with her smile. She really charmed. The infant’s smile and laughter mesmerized some who admired her- Knarra used Dispel Magick to remove the Charm Spell inadvertently cast by the baby girl. Kyrsstina’s locks reflected her mood as well. The twins shared the bloodlines of Boton, Gwindor, Lena, Kreuseul the White, Hiram, Lydia, and ancient Eyerthrin. The ancient Magick of the Elixirs of Mastery of Magick touched their essences. The twins had unparalleled potential of Light, Dark, Healing, and Enhanced Magick. They would need all their skills one day.

Boomer the dwarf went to Roscoe.

The stalwart warrior said, You old dawg! I didn’t think you could be a daddy!

Roscoe smiled.

I’m have had too much time on my hands since Parallan. I made the mistake of ‘Wishing’ that I could be good enough to be with Knarra. I didn’t know that being ‘good’ could lead to so much happiness. My adventuring is now confined to loving my life-mate and children. My powers of Magick are weakened. But I’m stronger in many ways.

Briar Garden, the mage’s castle, was now used little. The sorcerers created chambers within the Fane of the Setting Sun and Briar Garden that allowed travel between the two castles but the mage and the priestess spent most of their time in the Room of Knowledge and the nursery at the Fane of the Setting Sun. Roscoe transferred his greatest treasures, his spell books, to the Room of Knowledge. An ambry, a glyphed recessed area in one of the walls, was created to hold the books. The staff of Morlecainen rested with that of Knarra in another ambry at the Room of Knowledge. The Staff of Clysis was an heirloom of Cara Nightshade Aivendar. Roscoe’s Staff of Kreuseul had been sacrificed on the plain of Ooranth- the bane of the Draith Izitx and thousands more of his ilk. Three Staves of Sagain remained in Donothor. Roscoe and Knarra kept the nature of the great staves secret.

Calaiz and Trya Aivendar exchanged many letters during the year since the return of the Donothorians from Parallan. Cade delivered the epistles. The content of the letters warmed more with each exchange. Calaiz yearned to look upon Trya’s face again. He watched her in secret through his scrying device and his love for the woman grew. Cade happily noted the arrival of Calaiz to attend the wedding of Eomore and Cara. At least for awhile there were fewer letters to carry to Ooranth.

Calaiz marveled at the brilliance cast by the single sun and more so at the light cast by the single moon during the period that the Donothorians called night.

The Draith Lord ascended to her chamber. Trya Aivendar sat on a window seat. She was bathed by soft moonlight. He enjoyed seeing Trya in the moonlight. She was even more radiant!

Calaiz sighed deeply; he said, It gives me great pleasure to again gaze upon your face.

You are welcome here, Calaiz. Magrian tells us that you have aided the Drelves in their struggles against the Drolls and Kiennites. You have yielded the Draithsbane to the forest people. You open schools throughout the lands of the World of the Three Suns. Ooranth welcomes all peoples. You are a Renaissance Draith, Trya replied.

Calaiz smiled. He had no idea what Renaissance meant, but it sounded complimentary. In reality Renaissance was a small town far to the north of Lyndyn. The people who lived and worked in the isolated hamlet by necessity were skilled at many trades.

He answered, I asked the Drelves to rename the Blade of Phyrris. The weapon is now called ‘the Protector of the Forest.’ I found ‘Draithsbane’ unsettling. May I touch your hand?

Trya Aivendar reached over and grasped his massive hand. She looked at the flowing amber tresses that fell over his broad shoulders. A green tear meandered down his proud face. She extended her index finger and wiped the tear.

I’ll speak to my father, she said.

As will I, Calaiz added.

The Draith Lord walked to the solar, the royal sitting room of Castle Lyndyn, the next day. He found Eraitmus sitting alone.

I come to ask for your blessing to take what I tried to take from you by force and stealth, noble Eraitmus. Have you found room in your heart to forgive me? the Draith asked.

Eraitmus answered, I have been told the details of the stories of the wars of your land. I know that you spared my son’s life and the lives of his companions. The mysteries of love go beyond the force of Magick and the power of the sword. I see the sparkle in my daughter’s eyes when she talks of you. I hear of your deeds. I believe that a man- that is, a person, can see the errors of his ways and change. You have done that. I offer you right of entry to my family, my country, and my friendship. Our worlds have suffered mistrust and misfortune for too long. The spell casters labor to make passage through the gate a simpler matter. I look forward to traveling to your land for the ceremony.

Thus, Calaiz asked for and received the permission and blessing of Eraitmus Aivendar for the hand of his daughter Trya.

He achieved by compassion what he could not by force. This was a beautiful world. His was a beautiful world. Trya would make his world more beautiful. He would allow his people to share the ceremony. Calaiz was ecstatic.

Cara’s first major task was selecting a dress for her wedding. Mrs. Frathingham chose a blue dress; blue was the innkeeper’s favorite color. Eomore’s mother favored the color red which was associated with Lyndyn; the crest of the Aivendars was dominated by red. Trya suggested yellow. Cade suggested the green of the forest. Cara discussed the options all day- she couldn’t please everyone! She couldn’t please anyone!

The elf escaped to her rest chamber. She found her Bag of Concealment- the heirloom accompanied her on all of her travels. The Bag of Concealment had been passed down for …she didn’t know how long her predecessors had possessed the bag. She reached into the bag and removed a simple white dress that she cherished. She removed the black dress that clung alluringly to her during the day’s discussions. She slipped on the white dress. It was snow white except for a few pale green specks; the specks had always been there and always would be; legend held that the tears of an elf, if shed for joy, would never fade. The story of the dress had been taught by Cara’s mother as hers before her… the dress was worn by her ancestor Theandra on the happiest day of her life, when she fulfilled her life-long commitment with Areniel Nightshade, the bravest and greatest of the Gray Elf scouts.

The dress felt so comfortable.

Cara checked the hallway.

The castle bustled with activity, but the hallway was quiet. Cara slipped out into the gardens unnoticed and walked to the bubbling brook that flowed down the slopes of Mt. Lyndyn and passed through the inner ward of the castle proper. She sat on the bench by the brook. The moon was full and stars dotted the sky.

Cara sighed.

She felt the gentle touch of a strong hand upon her shoulder.

Peace.

Comfort.

What troubles you, my love? Eomore asked quietly.

I am fine now, she answered.

I saw consternation on you face at dinner, the prince said. Have I displeased you?

No, my love! You know me well. It’s the dress. I want to please everyone and I can see no way to do so. Are you sure that we could not sneak to the Fane and have Yennil, the Curate, confirm our life-long commitment? Cara asked, trembling slightly as she spoke.

You should please only yourself. Wear what you want; you look ravishing now; I’ve never seen you more beautiful. You will make any dress you wear beautiful. The prince said.

Cara smiled.

This dress is an heirloom passed down from my ancestors. I can’t identify the material of which it is made. Many of my people have worn this in their commitment ceremonies. I’d not considered it. I thought the ladies of Lyndyn would expect more, Cara answered.

I think that you have made your decision, my love, Eomore added. Let’s go inside; there is a slight chill in the air; I don’t want my life-mate to become ill.

A few more pale green specks fell upon the white fabric. The tears of joy that reached the ground broke into brilliant little specks of colored light. This was typical of elves’ tears.

Sagain silk could not be reproduced or identified in Donothor. The dress had never been modified; no shears could rip the fabric; it had never been necessary! The dress adjusted to each generation’s wearer; the white dress had fit perfectly Theandra, Cherilynn Nightshade, Cara’s mother, and now Cara.

Cara’s big day arrived. Her hair was adorned by a wreath of flowers picked from the wilds of Donothor. She had the radiance of all brides. The sun did its part. Maybe the wizards influenced the weather; maybe they did not. Someone said there would be rain. Someone told Cara a young elf named Erinnia sang a lyrical melody asking that the sun chase the clouds away. No one in Lyndyn had witnessed a Control Weather Spell. Cara was too excited to question the story. The bottom line was that the day was wonderful. The stadium was filled to the brim.

The white dress was something old.

Something new was the gift of King Eraitmus- a ring adorned with a beautiful red diamond. Red diamonds were rare in Donothor- all came from a faraway place. This particular stone had been found by Ordrych Aivendar, the bachelor king who was the first Captain of the Rangers of Lyndyn. The red diamond passed down to Eraitmus along the Aivendar line. A dwarfish craftsman mounted the stone in a setting surrounded by three priceless quartz glass stones. The three stones honored Cara’s contribution to the success of the quest to Parallan. Cara’s beauty was as rare as the clear glass stones.

Something borrowed was the necklace loaned by Knarra. The treasured jewelry was a rare pewter chain and pendant. The pendant was engraved with null symbols on both sides of the symbol of infinity. Knarra never revealed the necklace’s history.

Something blue was Cara’s secret which she intended to reveal only to her betrothed.

Cara was stunning.

Eomore arrived and walked to his father’s side. The Prince of Donothor wore robes dominated by reds and greens. His cloak was emblazoned by the royal crest of the Aivendars. The Prince gazed adoringly at his chosen. She was as lovely as the first time he looked upon her at the Inn in Kanath.

Eomore and Eraitmus walked together to Cara’s side. The three stood before Yennil, the High Curate of the Fane of the Setting Sun.

King Eraitmus greeted the citizens, welcomed the visitors, and opened the ceremony.

Yennil began, Two people begin a life-long commitment…

The ceremony lasted ten minutes.

The ceremony of love, making them one, mimicked the bond of life-long commitment witnessed by the Gray Elf elder Garnett in the wilds of the Lachinor centuries before. The love shared by Areniel Nightshade and his beloved Theandra equaled that shared by Eomore and Cara. Areniel and his life-mate were not given the opportunity to live in peace. Their brief bond created the infant Cherilynn Nightshade, the first sorceress of the Gray Elves. Enhanced Magick descended along her line.

After the vows of life-long commitment, the elves and drelves sang many songs. The great voice of Calaiz boomed harmoniously with the others. Tears flowed freely. Tears of joy!

The betrothal of Calaiz and Trya was announced at the reception. Applause erupted.

Nigel approached Calaiz.

He said, You old dawg! I didn’t know that you had it in you!

Calaiz smiled.

(The Draith Lord was not familiar with dawgs. Dawgs were loyal companions and hunkered down at the site of their natural enemies- tigers, war eagles, yellow jackets, gamecocks, wildcats, vols, razorbacks, rebelles, and particularly gators. Vols, rebelles, and yellow jackets were creatures which inhabited the Misty Forest and other wild regions. Yellow jackets had very high intelligence. The giant bees were the engineers of the insect world. Rebelles were resistant to domestication. Vols inhabited the rocky tops of mountains and warbled songs about their habitat.)

The Draith answered, I couldn’t let you stay one up on me.

The ceremony was scheduled to take place at Ooranth during the next Approximation of Andreas. Cara relished the opportunity to repay Trya’s kindness and assistance. They had six months to complete the preparations for the ceremony.

The time passed quickly. The gate between the worlds was like strand central station, the point of departure of river traffic from Lyndyn. Merchants referred to the area as the grand strand. Lyndyn was the busiest port on the Luumic. Hordes of merchants and travelers passed through SCS. The portal between the worlds was only figuratively as busy.

The ceremony of life-long commitment of Calaiz Urruth and Trya Aivendar occurred at Castle Ooranth. The three suns gave a wonderful light to the land. Gray Andreas came nearer than Magrian recalled. The World of the Three Suns had never known such peace.

Donothor enjoyed a time of peace. Eraitmus enjoyed the twilight of his life, journeyed to Ooranth several times, and hunted with his new friend and ally Calaiz.

Prince Eomore succeeded his Uncle Oerl as Captain of the Rangers. After his wedding, Eomore turned the Captaincy and the great blade Exeter to his youngest brother Barclay. The sword passed down the line of Ordrych Aivendar.

Boomer served loyally as lieutenant. The dwarf talked of a journey to Hillesdale to seek a life-mate. But Brenigen was betrothed to his role in the Rangers, and the truth was he liked his ale too much. There was no better story teller than the stalwart lieutenant of the Rangers.

Eomore and Cara were blessed with sons. Vanni and Tarrance were named for the elf prince Vannelei and the innkeeper of the Wayfarer, Tarrance Frathingham. Cara’s skills of Magick were passed only along female lines. The boys carried the trait but were not spell casters; they never would be.

Eighteen years passed.

Vanni was an excellent student of the sword and sparred with his father. Tarrance opted to study at the Fane of the Setting Sun.

Dael Louffette was nineteen in the years of Donothor. He possessed the skills of his father Nigel. The half-Drelve renewed the powers of the spell weavers that had been lost ages ago. Magrian and Calaiz tutored the youngster. Dael matured rapidly as was the norm for Drelves. His quickness and stealth were not the norm for Drelves.

The union of Calaiz and Trya was blessed by the birth of a daughter. Cyttia received the strength and powers of her father. She received the beauty of Trya. Cyttia was seventeen in the years of Donothor.

Cyttia and Dael, children of unions of parents of different worlds, came to Donothor to study under the auspices of Roscoe and Knarra. The children of two worlds studied with Eyerthrein and Kyrsstina, the children of a union of parents of a lost world of sorcerers. The twins were nineteen years old. The four became inseparable friends, shared Magick, and shared secrets.

Vanni was seventeen and Tarrance was fifteen. The sons of Eomore and Cara befriended Dael, Cyttia, Eyerthrein, and Kyrsstina.

Vanni worked with his uncle Barclay. Vanni’s goal in life was the Captaincy of the Rangers of Donothor- it was a goal that gave his father pride and his mother chagrin.

Eyerthrein and Kyrsstina were enhanced by their lineage of Sagain. Dael was enhanced by the Approximation of Andreas the Wanderer. Cyttia was enhanced by the lineage of Mariniel through her father Calaiz and the Gray Wanderer Andreas. Cara was enhanced by the Elixir of Enhancement imbibed by Theandra and her descent from Cherilynn Nightshade…

Demons were harmed only by enhanced Magick and …?

Chapter 3

Sadness and Dread

The time of Eraitmus Aivendar was at an end. The just monarch had been likened to his forefather Eigren- the first king of Donothor. He aged gracefully; his eye and mind remained sharp to the end of his days. Eraitmus died in the forty-eighth year of his reign. His son Eomore succeeded him..

King Eomore was a well conditioned forty-five years old when he ascended to the throne.

The coronation was attended by all segments of the population, friends, and allies of the kingdom. Eomore’s first duty was that of all the new monarchs- he pronounced the eulogy of his father Eraitmus. The people had relied on Eraitmus; they would be able to rely on his son. Eomore had always been popular with the citizenry. Queen Cara increased the brilliance of the throne.

Eraitmus hoped that the world inherited by Eyerthrein, Kyrsstina, Dael, Cyttia, Vanni, and Tarrance would be a world of peace. There had been no uprisings from the Lachinor or the east in twenty years.

Knarra enjoyed teaching the children. There might have been a slight graying of her beautiful hair. Her tresses had not been white from fear in many years and had been fiery red only on rare occasions when Roscoe or one of the children misbehaved.

Knarra and Roscoe enjoyed a private dinner. Knarra recounted many memories.

She asked, What do you consider our most unusual encounter?

Roscoe answered, That’s easy! The musician we encountered in the dungeons of Red Mountain during the Iron Mountains War would be my choice.

Knarra smiled and agreed as the memory became clear.

She remembered the encounter from the Iron Mountains. She remembered old friends and allies…

In Knarra’s mind’s eye…

The infamous thief Brenda Vansant said, There is a secret door; it is not well hidden; one of the Curates could have probably found it; it is small, about four feet wide and about seven feet high. I see the loose stone that opens it. Should I do so?

Wait! It’s too easy. It’s like they want us to find it. Let me check, the master assassin Knuth Gainriches said.

Don’t you trust me Knuth? Brenda asked.

It’s not that, Knuth insisted.

The crimson-haired elf Ravenna, who stood nearest the two thieves, detected a blush on the face of the master assassin. Brenda stepped back.

Knuth opened the door. The room was rather dark.

Knarra remembered the characters as if the encounter were yesterday. She, Roscoe, Tyllmon Aivendar, descendant of Eraitmus and Eomore and Captain of the Rangers at the time of the Iron Mountains War, the dwarf Captain Rabe Thayers, two dwarves named Spech and Foutte Luce, two Rangers of Kanath named Kallen Ohmes and Hahn Channity, the thief Brenda Vansant, and the elf Ravenna entered the chamber with Knuth. The noble Gray Elf Firiniel, the Ranger Tarrick, the loyal Curates Selyag and Naince, and the Centaur Trueheart remained in the hallway. The room was only fifty feet deep and extended twenty feet to both sides of the door. The ceiling of the room was only ten feet high. It was quite cool. There was a light in the room; an odd lamp bubbled on a (?) table in the corner. It emitted a reddish glow, giving an appearance of molten rock- but lava would be hot. Closer inspection revealed that the table had a section jutting out a few inches below the top. This area was white. Ivory?

Roscoe detected for Magick and found faint nonspecific emanations. Suddenly the door slammed shut behind them. Knuth rushed to the site of the door but found only solid wall. At the moment that the door closed a secret door opened on the opposite wall and a shadowy creature entered the room. The creature stood near the odd table; the beast did not appear particularly threatening. It was about the height of an elf. The creature began to sway in a rhythmic manner and press areas of the ivory extension of the table with three of its four hands. The room filled with sounds created by the fuzzy beast. The sounds were marked by a repeating bass rhythm under a freely and elaborately syncopated melody.

Knuth said, I think I feel bad!

Ravenna added, I feel like I have the blues!

Rabe Thayers and Foutte started dancing.

It’s a boogie man! Roscoe shouted.

Cover your ears! Knarra added.

It was too late. The entire party started dancing. It was impossible to control their weapons or effectively conjure. They could hear faint pounding from the hallway where their comrades tried to reopen the portal to the room.

Ravenna sang, I’m going to dance all night. I’m going to dance all night.

She shook her red hair wildly and twisted her backside in a rhythmic fashion.

What sort of beast is this? Brenda asked as she pirouetted.

They are usually the life… and death of many parties. The sounds create a mass charm type effect. You can’t help but feel the power of the sounds. Wow! He really knows how to sing the blues! Knarra said.

Blue auras filled the room!

She found she had to interrupt her discussion to shake awhile.

Knarra continued, The boogie man isn’t dangerous alone. It’s more mischievous. They are fond of drink, Magick items, and ‘bling’- gaudy things. The boogie man will ally for such rewards with other creatures; its antics tire out potential adversaries. I…" Knarra answered partially.

She was really getting down.

The dwarf Foutte sang, I’m Foutte Luce! Foutte Luce! I’ve got on my dancing boots! Foutte Luce! Foutte Luce! Look at me move!

Roscoe was cutting a mean rug. He tried to level his staff but the Jolt Spell merely glanced off the ceiling.

What can we do about this boogie-man? Rabe asked.

We may as well enjoy it, Knuth surmised. Brenda, may I have this dance?

Yes, Knuth. I thought you would never ask! Brenda answered.

Why? Why would the giants have this room here? I just wish I had some brew; and a woman or two, the dwarf Foutte sang.

It wasn’t very melodic-well, maybe to a dwarf.

The dancing continued for an hour.

Knarra tried unsuccessfully to cast a Silence Spell upon herself. She danced toward the boogie man.

Kallen sang, Left, left, left…you aren’t doing it correctly Channity!

Hahn replied, Right, right, right…get with it Ohmes!

Knarra managed to reach into her robe. She pulled a shiny object from the robe and tossed it through the air toward the boogie man. The cursed ring had been found earlier in the dungeon and the dwarf Foutte had been its victim. The little beast snatched the ring from the air with its fourth hand and placed the ring on one on the four fingers.

The sounds stopped.

Ribbit!

Ribbit!

The boogie man transformed into a large toad and hopped around the room. The door reappeared on the wall behind them and the rest of the group rushed into the room. They found their comrades panting and fatigued.

I just can’t stop dancing! Woah! Woah! the dwarf Foutte exclaimed.

You don’t have an excuse now, you idiot! Captain Rabe Thayers said, chastising his young subordinate.

Knarra and Roscoe tarried in the room after the others went into the passageway. Their tired eyes met…

This was a rare moment of levity in the war against the Red Mountain giants- no one had been hurt.

Knarra’s thoughts returned to real time.

She smiled, gave Roscoe a gentle kiss, and found nature’s gentle nurse- sleep. The priestess rested fitfully.

Knarra awakened. Roscoe slumbered by her. She felt cold, but it was the season of long warm days. She was drawn to the South. Her eye had never left the South since the Iron Mountains War and the finding of the Chalice of Mystery. Something stirred. Something evil! She felt dread! She felt disbelief- the essence was unmistakable! She had sensed the paramount evil before! The demon Uyrg!

Uyrg awakened!

Not even Roscoe had experienced the primal wickedness of the demon. Knarra had sensed something that day at Ylysis… the victory had not been complete…there had been no victory…just a delay of defeat.

Knarra had sensed it in the dungeons of Red Mountain in the Iron Mountains War. There had been no victory…only a delay of defeat.

Knarra awakened Roscoe.

"I fear the bane of this world, my love," she said gravely.

Roscoe was startled by her forlorn words and appearance. Her hair was snow white- all color abandoned her flowing locks.

"Of what do you speak?’ Roscoe asked.

"The reason I am here. I’ve told you of the Eight. I’ve told you of the Orb of Dark of Knowledge. Your ancestor Boton bartered with the Evil One and created