Harbingers: A Novel of Lasniniar: The World of Lasniniar, #8

By Jacquelyn Smith

An unspeakable act. Iarion flees with Barlo in a useless effort to outrun the heinous crime his dwarf friend committed under desperate circumstances.

Meanwhile, the rest of Lasniniar marches to war. Would-be gods drive the humans against the elder races, granting the most devout of their worshipers magic of their own.

Into this chaotic darkness, a new power emerges.

...A power only Iarion can face.

The future of the World of Lasniniar hangs in the balance in this eighth novel in the epic fantasy series by the author of the Fatal Empire series, Jacquelyn Smith.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WaywardScribe Press
• Release date: Jan 18, 2017
• ISBN: 9781927723609

Jacquelyn Smith

Jacquelyn Smith writes both epic and intrigue-based fantasy, and mysteries that range from cozy to kick-ass, with independent, strong-willed heroes, in search of their place in the world. These heroes take the problems they face seriously (but never themselves), and are supported by unlikely friendships they forge along the way. Jacquelyn is the author of the World of Lasniniar epic fantasy series, the Fatal Empire fantasy intrigue series, the kick-ass Kira Brightwell mysteries, and the Mackenzie Quinn Canadian cozy mysteries. (She originally published several of the early Kira Brightwell titles under the pen name Kat Irwin, before killing Kat off to eliminate the many awkward questions about having a second identity.) When spending time in the real world, Jacquelyn lives on the suburban outskirts of Toronto, Ontario, Canada, with her husband, Mark, and their feline owner, Xena, who is definitely a warrior princess. To learn more, visit: JacquelynSmithBooks.com

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

WINDS OF CHANGE

Arinwyn looked down at the battlefield far below from her perch on Malarin’s back. The human army raised by the Unborn had massed just out of bowshot of the northern border of Melaquenya, their flickering campfires illuminating them in the darkness like a swarm of fireflies. Arinwyn had to agree with Lodariel—flying by dragonback was a much more relaxing experience than her own method of using her air magic to keep her suspended. While she enjoyed being in control of her movements, this was far less exhausting. Lodariel and Nasir also seemed to find it less unnerving to have something physical beneath them as they soared through the night sky.

There’s another one! Lodariel called out to Malarin. She pointed to a figure far below surrounded by a nimbus of power.

I see him, Malarin rumbled.

She tilted her large body to alter her course until they were flying directly toward the human mage-priest who was preparing an attack. Malarin opened her mouth. A jet of flame emerged from deep in her throat, outlining her sharp teeth. The fiery blow hit the mage-priest full in the chest. The air filled with the stench of scorched hair and flesh as the man screamed. Arinwyn forced her gaze away. She knew the attack was necessary. The mage-priests were the only ones who could do the dragons any damage. Not only that, but they were a conduit of the Unborn’s power. It had been her idea to target them instead of massacring all the misguided human warriors who had been led to this impasse by creatures they believed to be gods.

She pressed her cheek against Nasir’s shoulder, taking comfort in his solid presence. She thought he might have said something, but his words were lost in the whistle of the wind. Her usually stoic companion was sandwiched between her and Lodariel. Lodariel’s red-gold braids streamed through the air behind her, lashing against his face. Arinwyn had known him long enough to be able to tell he wasn’t anywhere near as comfortable with their current mode of transport as she was. Lodariel could shoot at their targets below with her bow if she wished, and Arinwyn had her magic, but Nasir’s curved sword was useless—not that any other weapon was needed with dragonfire at their disposal.

As Malarin’s victim disappeared into a pile of ash, she flapped her enormous, bat-like wings to climb back up into the sky with the six other dragons that had accompanied them from the fire island off the coast of Southwestern Lasniniar. The ascent brought back a flash of memory from a half-remembered dream.

I have flown like this before—with wings. Or do I only wish it were so?

She was the only Sky Elf to be born without wings, and she had no memory of a life before this one. All her life, she had longed to be anything other than a wingless freak. When Numarin had died after betraying the Free Races, she had gotten her wish—after a fashion. The Learnéd One of Air’s power had transferred to her, the child her mother had raised without revealing her heritage.

It had taken time for Arinwyn to come to terms with that power and what it meant to be the secret daughter of Numarin. Still, she had not returned to her home forest since that fateful day she had fled so very long ago, until now.

If I weren’t Numarin’s daughter, I would never have met Nasir.

That fact was the one thing that helped to make things bearable. And now, her power was responsible for bringing dragons back to Lasniniar.

Malarin had died in battle thousands of years ago, the last of her kind. Thanks to Arinwyn’s magic and the discovery of a clutch of dormant eggs left by the dragon change children of the Khashada, Malarin had been reborn, along with six more of her kind. Their return was more than timely. The Unborn had roused the humans, who had always been more prolific than the elder races, and marched them against all elvenkind, with the full backing of Unborn magic through the mage-priests. The only elves with magic of their own were the Light Elves of Melaquenya, and even then, their magic was not meant for battle. They needed allies like Malarin to help protect them from annihilation. Still, it didn’t make Arinwyn enjoy watching people get burned to a crisp.

"What is that?" Nasir called out from in front of her. He pointed to an approaching shadow in the night sky. It was too small to be a dragon.

Lodariel twisted her neck and leaned over to look, her green eyes squinting. Is that a flying horse? Her expression was incredulous.

Arinwyn felt Nasir tense at her sudden movement. She shifted in her seat to see what they were looking at.

Sure enough, the approaching figure appeared to be a horse with wings. Its coat gleamed white in the darkness. Its mane and tail streamed behind it in a river of silver. Its large wings were feathered—like a Sky Elf’s—with blue accents. Arinwyn gaped.

It’s probably some unnatural creature of the Unborn, Malarin said. Her serpentine neck had twisted so she could look as well. I’ll take care of it. She started to inhale.

Wait! The word burst from Arinwyn’s lips, startling Malarin into a sudden coughing fit.

What is it? Nasir asked her. His hazel eyes rolled in their sockets so he could look back at her. His weather-beaten skin seemed unnaturally pale.

Arinwyn gave a helpless shake of her head. I—I think I know him.

A joyful whinny pierced the air and the flying horse approached.

You’re here! it trumpeted in a male voice. He spoke the Elven Tongue. He was right! I’ve come so far to find you...

"Are you talking to me?" Arinwyn asked in a weak voice. She felt as if the world had lurched beneath her.

Of course, I’m talking to you! The horse snorted. Granted, you don’t exactly look the way you did the last time I saw you. Not very equine at all. He tilted his head to take in her pointed ears and golden skin. She felt a breeze ruffle her short crest of spiky, white hair.

Arinwyn stared at him. Not very equine? Another flash of her dreams of flying over a strange land filled her vision. She remembered a pair of feathered wings, not unlike the ones on the horse hovering beside her. She met the creature’s eyes and felt a sudden jolt of recognition.

Telanadil? She breathed the name aloud.

The winged horse gave a whinny of triumph. "You do remember!"

The next thing Arinwyn knew, she had slipped her arms from Nasir’s waist to throw herself through the air. She landed on Telanadil’s back and wrapped her arms around his neck. How had she not known him? How could she possibly have forgotten?

Arinwyn? Is there any chance we could find out what’s going on here? Nasir asked in a dry voice, speaking Common.

Your friend doesn’t speak our language? Telanadil asked in Elvish. I suppose I should have made more of an effort to learn this other tongue on my way here from that hairy creature...

Uh, this isn’t just a language barrier, Lodariel said in Elvish. She shared a look with Malarin, who nodded in agreement.

This is Telanadil, Arinwyn explained in Common. I knew him in my previous life.

And where was that, exactly? Lodariel asked in Elvish, her eyes narrowing. Because I don’t think it was here in Lasniniar.

Felara’s Realm, Telanadil said. Arinwyn was the lead mare of our herd, until she found a way to be born.

It was Lodariel’s turn to choke. Felara’s Realm? Her gaze fastened on Arinwyn. You were one of the Unborn? Malarin explained what was happening to Nasir in the Common Tongue in what passed for a low voice among dragons.

Arinwyn shrugged. I suppose so—or at least, a less powerful one. That would explain why I’ve never been able to remember my previous lives, even though I’m a Sky Elf. Like their wingless Quenyadain cousins, the Sky Elves enjoyed the close connection with the Quenya reserved for Light Elves. Arinwyn shook her head in amazement. I—

The sky started to spin around her. She felt her eyes roll back in her head.

Arinwyn? Nasir called out to her, his voice tight with concern.

Something is happening, Lodariel said. Her voice seemed to come from far away. The shield! It’s fluctuating.

Arinwyn struggled to look down. The magical barrier that protected Melaquenya had turned a strange, violet color. It seemed to buckle under an invisible strain.

What’s going on? Lodariel demanded.

Malarin rumbled. Whatever it is, it does not bode well. I have seen that taint before.

When Saviadro corrupted the portion of the Quenya he stole, Lodariel said. But Saviadro is dead...

Saviadro is not the only one to pervert the Quenya, Malarin said. Perhaps someone else has taken control somehow.

We need to get down there! Lodariel said. There was a note of desperation in her voice. Daroandir is in the forest, and Silvaranwyn and her babies. If anything happens to the Quenya while she’s communing with it...

Arinwyn gasped as a dagger of pain ripped through her. She felt as if something inside her was being torn apart. She felt Telanadil’s warm breath on her bare arm as he turned his neck to see what was wrong.

Arinwyn! Nasir looked on helplessly from his perch on Malarin’s back a few feet away.

The shield! Lodariel said. Her green eyes were pinned on the forest below.

Her words were cut off by Arinwyn’s scream. She didn’t need to look to know the shield had collapsed. She slumped helplessly against Telanadil’s neck as an echoing emptiness filled her.

Arinwyn, please, Nasir said. What’s wrong?

Arinwyn cracked an eye open to look at him. Lodariel was finally paying attention, but she seemed torn between what was happening beside her and what was going on below. She, Nasir, Malarin, and Telanadil waited for her to speak.

My magic. Arinwyn’s voice emerged as a harsh whisper. It’s gone.

CHAPTER TWO

UNBREAKABLE BONDS

Eransinta sucked in a breath as her sky-blue eyes snapped open. She sat bolt upright in bed, her blankets pooling around her.

Mmm... What is it? Curuadil asked in a sleepy voice. He rolled over to look at her. His long, white hair fanned across the pillow behind his head.

He’s back. The words emerged from Eransinta’s lips in a whisper. She could feel herself trembling.

Curuadil eased himself into a seated position and leaned over to light a lamp on the bedside table. The tiny flame illuminated his golden-skinned features.

Who’s back? he asked.

Eransinta frowned in confusion. How could he not know?

Iarion.

Her mate’s golden eyes widened. You are certain?

Of course, I’m certain! Eransinta’s gaze traveled from the concerned look on his face to a pack of herbs sitting beside the lamp.

Have I been taking something?

She struggled to remember anything from the past several days and failed. Iarion had been gone. That was all that had mattered.

But now he’s back.

Where is he? Curuadil asked.

Eransinta closed her eyes. The bond she shared with Iarion was a remnant of the link that had joined them in his original incarnation as her twin brother. He had been reborn into his current life as her son, but it seemed to make little difference.

She knew Iarion was back—his presence in Lasniniar was like the feeling of the sun on her own golden skin. She shook her head. Long tresses of white hair slithered over her shoulder.

I don’t know... He is close, but I can’t pinpoint his location. Something is blocking me. We have to find him! She began shoving the blankets aside.

Curuadil reached over to place a comforting hand on her arm. We will go tell Iadrawyn. She will know what to do. His voice was gentle.

She can use the Quenya to find him. Eransinta was on her feet now. She was already moving out of the bedroom into the public area of the hut that was their home in the heart of Melaquenya. We must find him before the Unborn do. Her throat tightened as she spoke.

The Unborn had demanded Iarion in exchange for the safety of the elven people. He was the one who had freed them from their prison beyond the Void. They were convinced he was the only one who could destroy them.

Curuadil hurried after her. He slid a robe over her bare shoulders and struggled to tie the sash before she walked out of the hut. He already wore a robe of his own, although he had put it on inside out in his haste.

We mustn’t make a scene, he said to her in a low voice as they walked past other huts nestled at the bases of the ancient trees that towered over them under a canopy of golden and silver-edged leaves. We need to keep this matter quiet.

Eransinta paused a moment to take in her mate’s words. He was right, of course. It was late, and the forest was mostly dark, aside from some torches that had been left burning to illuminate the forest paths, but there would still be the odd sentry about, or those returning from guard duty on the border, where they kept watch on the human army the Unborn had sent against the Light Elves. Not every resident of Melaquenya was convinced Iarion’s life was worth sacrificing the safety of the entire race. She allowed Curuadil to put his arm over her shoulder and moderate her pace to a casual walk, even though she wanted nothing more than to go running straight for Iadrawyn’s hut.

They arrived at their destination several agonizing moments later without incident. Even though they were the Lord and Lady of the Light Elves, Valanandir and Iadrawyn’s hut was no larger than those in the area around it, but it was surrounded by a tall, flowering hedge for privacy. Eransinta and Curuadil walked through the arch of the hedge toward the front entrance. Curuadil missed a step as they heard voices already drifting from inside.

You must go, Eransinta heard Iadrawyn say as she and Curuadil entered the hut.

And leave you alone with him? Valanandir scoffed. I already made that mistake once. I won’t make it again.

He and Iadrawyn were standing in the front room of their hut, wearing robes of their own. Iadrawyn’s long, golden braids were disheveled as if she, too, had been roused from sleep. Her expression was anxious. Valanandir was frowning at her, his arms folded. Their eldest daughter, Andirlynia, stood to one side. She was still fully clothed in basic scouting gear, her white hair confined in long, neat braids. Her green gaze flicked back and forth between her two parents.

Mother, are you certain it’s him? she asked.

Iadrawyn ran a hand through her braids with a sigh. Yes. I don’t know how, but I’m not mistaken. You’ve sensed the change in the Quenya. It bears a familiar taint. I would recognize it anywhere.

I believe you, but I cannot leave, Valanandir said. His expression was torn. He flipped his long, white hair over his shoulder in an anxious gesture.

You must. Iadrawyn’s bottomless, green gaze was pleading. He has taken control of the Quenya. He always blamed you for what happened on Ralvaniar. If he finds you here, he will destroy you.

Come with us then. Valanandir reached out to take hold of his mate’s shoulders and looked at her as if there were no one else in the hut.

Iadrawyn shook her head. I can’t. I am the reason he is here. If I leave, he will tear Lasniniar apart trying to find me. It will be better for everyone if I stay. She and Valanandir exchanged an anguished look. Andirlynia looked as if she wanted to say something, but remained silent.

Eransinta couldn’t bear to wait any longer. She had no idea what they were talking about, but she had more important news.

He’s back, she said as she stepped forward.

All three elves turned to look at her and Curuadil as if noticing them for the first time.

I’m sorry we have come at such a bad time, Curuadil said to his parents and sister. Is everything all right?

Valanandir and Andirlynia both started speaking at once, but Iadrawyn raised a hand to silence them.

Iarion is back? she said. Her gaze fastened on Eransinta.

Eransinta nodded, her legs feeling weak with relief. She knew Iadrawyn would understand.

I don’t know where he is though, she said in a tearful voice. Can you help me find him?

Iadrawyn lowered her gaze. I am sorry. The Quenya has been taken.

Then what are we going to do? Eransinta demanded. We have to find him!

Curuadil put an arm around Eransinta’s shoulder. How was the Quenya taken? You, Andirlynia, and Silvaranwyn have been maintaining the shield over the forest. How would anyone have been able to get in?

Iadrawyn exchanged a horrified look with Andirlynia. Silvaranwyn. They spoke the name in unison.

Now you really must go, Iadrawyn said to Valanandir from over her shoulder. Silvaranwyn was in the Glade. She could be in danger.

Valanandir bowed his head. Very well. He squared his shoulders. But I will find a way to get us out of this mess.

Iadrawyn turned toward him and stroked his cheek. I know you will. In the meantime, I will do what I can to minimize the damage. I only hope he is still fond of me after everything that happened.

I will go with him, Andirlynia said with a nod toward Valanandir.

That would be for the best, Iadrawyn said. He will know who your father is and punish you for it. There is no time to lose. Take what supplies you can and go out the back window. Make certain you are not seen.

Andirlynia gave her mother’s shoulder a squeeze and disappeared behind the curtain that led to the sleeping quarters. Valanandir gave his mate a fierce embrace before following his daughter. Iadrawyn watched them go.

Eransinta shook her head. Aren’t you going to do anything about Iarion? she demanded.

The look on Iadrawyn’s face made her fall silent. She had never seen Curuadil’s mother look so torn.

Mother? Curuadil took a tentative step toward her. What can we do?

Iadrawyn took a steadying breath. There is no time to explain. You must flee the forest. Now. Tell no one.

Eransinta scowled. But Iarion—

This is for Iarion’s own safety, as well as your own, Iadrawyn said, her eyes flashing. Gather what supplies you can and run. No one must know that Iarion has returned. It is the only way we can protect him.

Leave Melaquenya? Eransinta gaped at the suggestion. She had never been beyond the forest’s borders. Why was Iadrawyn insisting she leave now?

You are a conduit to Iarion, Iadrawyn said. Her gaze shifted to Curuadil. If she falls into the wrong hands...

Curuadil’s fingers tightened around Eransinta’s shoulders. I understand. We will leave at once.

Iadrawyn nodded. Curuadil steered Eransinta toward the curtained area where his sister and father had just disappeared. The bedroom had already been ransacked. There was no sign of Valanandir or Andirlynia.

Take some of Mother’s clothes, Curuadil said. He was already picking over what had been left by his father.

Eransinta stood with her arms at her sides. Why was no one doing anything to help her find Iarion? Didn’t they understand how much danger he was in? She had thought Iadrawyn had understood, but she had only told her to run away. What was that supposed to accomplish?

Iadrawyn. An unfamiliar, male voice spoke from the next room.

Eruvalion, Iadrawyn said in an unsurprised tone.

Eransinta frowned. Eruvalion? I’ve heard that name before... But what kind of name is ‘Hidden Watcher’?

It has taken me longer than I had expected, but I have finally returned to you, Eruvalion said. I am sorry I have kept you waiting.

Eransinta peeked through a gap in the curtain. A male Shadow Elf with dusky skin and long, silver hair strode across the room to embrace Iadrawyn. She stood still in his arms. Eransinta caught a glimmer of violet eyes over Iadrawyn’s shoulder in the lamplight. In fact, he seemed to be surrounded by a shimmering, violet halo.

I never thought I would see you again, Iadrawyn said. There was a note of wariness in her voice.

The Quenya turned against me, Eruvalion said. His expression soured. I have been wandering in Oblivion all this time, trying to find my way back to you.

I’m sorry, Eru, Iadrawyn said in a soft voice. I’m sorry it had to end that way.

I have never blamed you for what happened. I know you meant well. And I am back now. An Unborn woman named Felara freed me.

Felara. Iadrawyn echoed.

You know of her? Eruvalion asked. She is clever enough, but not nearly as clever as she thinks. I have taken some of her power. The creatures you call humans tried to kill me outside the forest, but their weapons did nothing. And now I have re-taken the Quenya and we are together. Everything will soon be as it should be. You will be my lady, and I will be your silver prince. There’s only one small matter I need to attend to first. He made a show of looking around the room.

He’s not here, Iadrawyn said.

Eruvalion frowned. What?

Valanandir is not here.

Do not speak his name! Eruvalion’s features twisted in rage.

Iadrawyn raised her chin. Whether I name him or not, he is not here.

Coward. Where is he hiding? Or does he not want to face the rightful Lord of the Wood? Eruvalion began to stalk toward the curtain to the sleeping quarters.

Iadrawyn reached out to grab his arm. He has left me.

Eruvalion sneered. Fled, you mean. No matter. I will find him all the same. I have the Quenya now. It’s only a matter of time.

It has been so long since I last saw you, Iadrawyn said as she steered Eruvalion away from the curtain. And now I have been left all alone. You must tell me everything that has happened.

Come on, Curuadil whispered in Eransinta’s ear. We have to get out of here.

He pulled her toward the window that looked out of the back of the hut. He had used a blanket to form a crude sack to carry what supplies he had managed to gather. He pulled aside the curtain and held out an arm.

You go first, he said. Make for the trees and wait for me there. If we get separated, run.

Eransinta took his arm with a shake of her head. Where was she supposed to run to? She knew next to nothing about the world outside Melaquenya. She hoisted her leg over the windowsill and slipped over the edge to drop to the ground below. She remained frozen in a crouch. The forest outside seemed pitch black after the lamplight of the hut. She blinked, waiting for her eyes to adjust.

A pair of white-haired shadows loomed before her in the darkness, their familiar features slowly taking shape.

Silvanonriel! Eranras! The names of her two daughters escaped her lips in a surprised whisper. She nearly wilted in relief. You startled me.

Eranras stared at her mother, her blue eyes wide with surprise, but Silvanonriel flashed a crafty smile and slung an arm around Eransinta’s shoulder.

Hello, Mother, she said. The cold blade of her hunting knife pressed against Eransinta’s throat. Going somewhere?

CHAPTER THREE

FACING THE UNTHINKABLE

Daroandir fled through the darkened trees of Melaquenya with his sword drawn. The sounds of the battlefield were far behind him.

Silvaranwyn! If anything has happened to her...

His mind screamed his mate’s name in an endless litany as he ran, his red-gold braids streaming over his shoulders behind him. If only he had a link with her like the one he shared with Lodariel... He shook his head and kept running. The forest around him was quiet and empty. The only elves still awake at this hour were guarding the border—like he should have been. But the moment he saw the magical shield over the forest collapse, he had abandoned his post without a second thought. Silvaranwyn was all that mattered.

He rounded a large tree and collided with another figure running in his direction. He jumped back, his sword held ready. If something had happened to the Quenya, then the enemy had struck from within.

Daroandir! A familiar female voice gasped his name. He made out Andirlynia’s features in the darkness. Thank the Quenya. I’ve been looking for you.

What’s happened? Daroandir demanded in a tight voice. I saw the shield fluctuate and then fail... He swallowed. Silvaranwyn had been taking her shift maintaining the shield.

An elf from Mother’s past has returned somehow, Andirlynia said with a shake of her head. She believes he has taken control of the Quenya.

Daroandir felt a sudden jolt of unease. The violet taint he had noticed on the shield before it had fallen tugged at his memory. What elf?

Eruvalion.

Daroandir gaped. But that’s impossible! Your mother convinced him to commune fully with the Quenya back on Ralvaniar. It consumed him. I was there.

It makes no sense to me, either. Andirlynia shrugged. But Mother was convinced. She sent Father away to keep him safe. I ran off to find you, but he’s gone to the Glade of the Quenya to check on—

Silvaranwyn. The name emerged from Daroandir’s lips as a choked sob. We must go to her!

He sprang off into the darkness toward the glade. Andirlynia followed him with a curse.

We have to be careful, she said between breaths in a low voice as she ran beside him. There are some who might welcome a new leader of the Light Elves. The decision to stand against the Unborn rather than accept their demand to hand over Iarion hasn’t been popular.

I wish Iarion were here now, Daroandir muttered.

Eransinta says he’s returned, Andirlynia said. She sensed him, but she doesn’t know where he is. Daroandir, what is happening on the battlefield?

Daroandir focused on her words, using them to keep various images of a wounded Silvaranwyn at bay.

Dragons have arrived.

Dragons! Andirlynia shook her head in wonder. Malarin and the others?

Daroandir nodded. I saw Malarin among them. She had been his friend during his earlier incarnation on Ralvaniar. He would have recognized her anywhere.

I thought Silvaranwyn was a bit mad when she told us about hatching some dragon eggs on a fire island somewhere, Andirlynia said, as if to herself.

They’re targeting the mage-priests, Daroandir said. I couldn’t see her, but I sensed Lodariel was up there with them.

"Well at least something is finally going our way. Andirlynia’s voice fell to a whisper. We should stop talking now."

They had reached the edge of the Meeting Glade where Iadrawyn and Valanandir held court during the daylight hours. The Glade of the Quenya lay just beyond it.

Daroandir paused at the edge of the trees, his golden eyes narrowed in an attempt to pierce the shadows. He could see no one in the empty darkness. He ran forward on silent feet with his sword still drawn. Andirlynia followed a few steps behind.

He looked over his shoulder to meet her gaze as they approached the entrance to the Glade of the Quenya. It was usually guarded at all times by a pair of elves. The position was partly ceremonial, but also harkened back to times of betrayal, when the Quenya had been threatened from within. The memory of the Light Elves was long. No sentry would have left their post lightly.

What has happened here? Did Eruvalion send the sentries away?

Daroandir saw no signs of a body or a struggle. He rushed toward the entrance to the glade and ducked inside. What he saw within made him stop in his tracks. His sword hung limply at his side.

The enormous, ancient tree that housed the source of the elves’ magic loomed overhead. A flickering, violet light ghosted from within the hollow of its trunk, casting the glade in eerie shadow. An elf with long, white hair similar to Andirlynia’s knelt at the tree’s