It was a cloudy rain-filled day in the dying season we call Evanide and everyone in the village seemed to be infected by the bad weather. The word “hello” seemed as though it didn’t exist and not a single smile graced the faces of those that walked around me as I searched the outdoor markets for the herbs that my mother Neci so desperately requested.
I wished to find the herbs as well because mother was making my favorite dish for supper. An Evanide squash sauteed in butter and those very herbs. Just thinking about it raised my spirits, if only for a moment.
I truly hate Evanide because it’s the season of my birth. As the leaves fall and start turning to dust and all the animals begin to go into hiding before the winter snows arrive, I know that Evanide has arrived, and my depression begins to grow.
When I awoke earlier on that particular morning, a feeling of dread was already hanging over me like a dark, wet cloak draining my energies. The night before I’d had one of my dark dreams of drowning while holding Certan, the enchanted sword. Still waters surrounded me, and, because of the fact that I was carrying the enchanted blade, I wasn’t able to use my arms to get to the surface.
Certan was created by dark elves thousands of years ago and given to a relative of mine to wield against the forces of evil. My father was handed the blade by his father but has no son himself to hand it to next. Too bad for him.
Dreams of the sword and the still waters have plagued me for weeks.
I’ve been trained as a Druid since the age of fifty, the awakening age of most elves in the region. As one trained in the natural magics of Sphaera, I’d also become a master of meditation. Deep thoughts, like strings of information tied together within the subconscious, were mine to manipulate and mine for truths.
Unfortunately, I’ve been unable to decipher the meaning of these particular dreams as of yet.
“Oh, well”, I said aloud as I walked through the throngs of locals all shopping for the coming week’s supplies.
No one looked my way though because everyone in the village of Zmyrnae knew that I often spoke to myself. More than that, they knew I was one of the Forsaken. Relictus we were called, those of us unfortunate enough to be considered not normal. Some of us had afflictions of the mind, others were physically deformed, and others still were Relictus, but yet no one knew why.
That was me. I am Relictus and only my mother, father, sister, and I know the reason. I was born different from others. They didn’t know whether I was a boy or a girl when I came forth from my mother’s womb. My intimate parts reveal that I am both, though I know I’m a girl.
You might ask yourself why the village even knows I’m Relictus at all. It’s one of those unwritten high elven rules. We cannot lie about these things. I’m not forced to discuss my family’s shame, but others must be aware that I am to be avoided. I can’t look for a mate. I can’t fall in love. I will never have a child.
And my mother wonders why I’m so dark and quiet. Sometimes, I wish I could just grab her and scream aloud exactly why I am so angry much of the time.
You’d think that at one thousand five hundred and twenty years old, my mother would know a thing or two about the psyche of her offspring and that which bothers them. It’s the denial that does that to her. Most elven parents would’ve killed a child born like me. My parents chose to let me live. I often wonder why, and I believe my mother feels the same way, at times.
After walking for a few moments contemplating my worthless life, the sound of screams suddenly filled the air. I could hear wings from above and once I turned my eyes skyward, I could see what all the commotion was about.
Three griffons carrying elven soldiers descended upon us and landed in the town square. Adorned with the royal symbols of Altus, the grandest kingdom on Sphaera, I knew immediately that something was wrong. It was General Calean, master of aerial combat and commander of all griffon riders. With him, were two handsome elven griffon riders wearing shiny armor made from the finest elven mithril.
Although others in town had no idea why they were here, I knew for certain. My mother and sister did as well for they both came running out of our house, screaming and crying. Once they’d stopped in front of General Calean, the elder elf spoke.
“Let it be known that Captain Acarus, Master Rider of the Griffon Corp, has slain the evil dragon Gilgarix and died in the effort.”
My father was one of General Calean’s finest. He was responsible for leading his own division of riders, and those riders adored him and listened to his every command. My father had even been awarded a royal medal for honorable service by King Asir himself.
He’d been on leave for months but decided to go fight in the battle for Lucidium weeks ago. Three ancient red dragons, all sons of Azarakesh the Wicked, king of all evil dragons, had attacked the island nation of Lucidium without warning. That’s all my father needed to know. With a hug and a kiss, he then got on the back of his devoted steed and flew off to fight for what he thought was right.
High elven ideals seem so foolish to me but were so important to him. And now he’s dead because of them.
“No! Not my husband. Not my beloved Aurelliel.” She screamed with an agony that I’d never heard before.
Aurelliel was my father’s elven name. Acarus was the name King Asir had given him when he was adorned with the gaudy medal that hung above our fireplace collecting dust.
I stood back, not wanting to be in the middle of the emotional wreckage that my mother and sister were dealing with. My sister, Nous the mouse, was standing dutifully next to our mother, not daring to speak but with tears streaming down her face. She glanced over at me and our eyes met. I raised my fingers in our secret way and waved them twice at her, so she’d know that I cared and that I saw her.
I’ve always been close to my sister. She never treats me differently and always expresses love in the most unconditional way. Nous is truly a person with great heart and desire to do good. Our secret symbol, holding the two nearest fingers down with our thumb while keeping the two farthest fingers up and waving them, was something special between us that we created when we were young.
We are Relictus because of me, and my family bears the burden just as I do. As children, Nous and I learned quickly that being quiet was the best way not to get into trouble. Secret symbols have secret meanings that only we know. It’s our own made-up language.
Anyway, I could see General Calean speaking to my mother and all the rest of the townsfolk had encircled them. Some were just nosy, and others were truly sorry and consoled my grieving mother. As he was about to leave, I noticed that General Calean hadn’t handed my mother our family sword, Certan.
That was strange. I couldn’t let that go and so I ran up to the edge of the crowd and decided to speak, though I’ll probably regret it.
“Where’s Certan General? Where’s my father’s sword?” I tried not to be disrespectful, but I was anxious. Dreams of the sword and the pool were starting to bubble up in my mind.
“Ah, there you are Naia, Eldest daughter of Aurelliel. May I speak with your eldest Neci? I have need to.”
My mother acquiesced. She was too deep in her sorrow to do otherwise.
Not knowing exactly, but sensing that something was afoot, I followed the General back to his, and the other two soldiers’, griffons. Once there, the two soldiers faced outward, intimidating anyone that drew near and pushing them backward. This conversation was for General Calean and me. Anyone else that thought they’d heard would just be speaking in rumors.
“Naia, your father loved you more than you can ever know.”
I looked at him with insincerity that he could not ignore.
“Poor girl. You think the world hates you and that your father wished you were never born, but you’re wrong.”
This time I looked at the General in horror. Did he know my secret?
“Yes, I know the specifics of your Relictus. Your father and I were close, and he confided in me. Lucky for you he did for I’m about to tell you something that you’ve never heard before.”
“It’s true that you will never bear a child. It’s also true that most elves will see you as cursed. However, it’s how you see yourself that will define the life that you are about to live.”
As General Calean came closer and leaned in to speak to me, tears came forth from my eyes. I don’t know why, and it had been at least one hundred years since last I’d cried, but nevertheless, they came forth and I could not control my emotions for the while.
“You see Naia, in your heart, you know what I’m about to say is true. So, let me say this and perhaps your spirit will be freed.”
“Over five thousand years ago, during the reign of Illen Luarien, father of our current high elven king, we high elves listened to sages called The Sapielles. These sages were born to us at the rarest of times. While under the blue moon of the Evanide, to be exact. A blue moon that only appears every five hundred years or so. These sages helped us speak to all the elven gods. As a result of that divine intimacy, we had access to knowledge that has long since been forgotten.”
“Naia, those sages were born neither boy, nor girl, but as both. Naia, you were born under a blue moon such as this.”
As I nearly passed out, the General gently cradled me in his massive arms. I then looked deep into his eyes and spoke.
“I don’t believe you. I am nothing. I’m a curse to my family. My mother and father lost everything because of me. They left Zinzala in shame because of me. No…no.”
I sobbed and could not say another word.
“No Naia, they didn’t leave in shame. Your parents knew the old ways. They knew you were special and took you away so that you could grow up and realize your destiny. They gave up everything because they believed in you and your awakening. Don’t you feel it? The still waters…”
“…and deep thoughts.” I finished his sentence for him. “Yes. Yes, I do. I’ve seen the dreams and felt the energy, though I’ve no idea how to control it.”
“I’ve dreamt of my father’s sword,” I said as a matter of fact.
“I’m sorry Naia. Your father ended that miserable dragon’s life by driving Certan deep into Gilgarix’ throat. Both he and the sword fell into the volcano and are no more.”
General Calean was sure of his words, but I was not. I knew differently. The sword had been calling to me in my dreams as of late. I knew that though my father had died in the volcano, the sword had not.
“General, I know the sword was not destroyed. Certan calls to me in my dreams. I do not understand what it is saying or how to retrieve it, but I know it is the sword.”
General Calean looked shocked.
“Come with us now. I must show you something and we will see if your dreams are true.”
I would’ve called out to my mother, but she and my sister had already headed back into the house. My mother never smothered me like she did Nous.
One of the two other soldiers had a larger saddle that fit two elves. I got on the back and held on for dear life as the four of us launched into the sky on the backs of griffons.
To feel absolutely free is the desire of most intelligent folk, I believe. This was the first time in my entire life that I’d ever experienced such freedom. As the griffons soared, I felt the wind blast my face and I screamed with an exuberance that scared the rider my arms were hooked around.
“Sorry!” It’s all I could think of saying.
As the griffons leveled off and the misty rain bombarded my skin like tiny pin pricks, I felt an ecstasy that I wished would never end. I dug my feet into the harness and used my legs to grip the griffon. Then, without hesitation, I removed my arms from the rider’s waist and held them straight out. The wind and rain did their best to push my arms to my side, but I resisted with every muscle in my body.
I couldn’t help but yell again and again. I loved flying!
I didn’t realize that the general had heard me yelling and he then signaled the riders to perform some aerial acrobatics. For a moment, I almost fell off as my rider turned our griffon sharply to the right, but I quickly swung my arms back around the handsome rider’s waist and gripped him tightly as we rode the wind and defied the rain.
I felt alive!
We rode for the better part of an hour before starting to descend, bringing our steeds to the ground. After stopping, I noticed that we were in a series of ruins that I’d never seen before. It was an ancient elven place, that much I was certain of.
I felt as though the land was speaking to me. As a druid, I was taught to listen to the land, but now that I knew the truth of my heritage it was as if the secrets of the world were slowly being revealed to me. It was as if secrets could no longer be kept from me.
One feature of the ruin stuck out more than the rest as I began to look around us. It was a jet-black pool of the stillest water. Not a single creature lived in it and not a single creature moved near it, that much I was sure of.
We all got off our steeds and General Calean guided me over to the pool. The other two soldiers began feeding and watering the steeds as the General and I stood staring deep into the darkness of the waters.
“Do you know what this is Naia?”
I looked quizzically at the General before the realization hit me. This was the pool in my dreams. This is where I drowned a hundred times over.
“Yes. I’ve seen it many times. What is it?”
“It’s a Deep Thought Pool, Naia. Only a Sapielle such as yourself can truly use its powers and this is one of two still in existence. Not many elves know about them anymore.”
I was as excited as I was curious. I had no clue what to do next although my mind was forming ideas.
The General spoke again.
“You must get in and hope it accepts you. If not…well, we’ll just hope the pool does.”
“I just get in,” I asked quizzically?
“You must first cast a water breathing spell and then get in the pool with your mind cleared. Then, once below the waters, you must stay there and cast a commune with nature while attempting to speak with the spirits of the pool. This I have read. This much I know to be true. Beyond that, it is up to you to learn what secrets the pool holds.”
General Calean looked at me and as I looked around, the other two soldiers were staring at me, as well. For the first time in forever, I felt like I was powerful. I felt like I was special.
What should I do next? Should I cast the spells and get in the water.
“Yes,” I screamed!
With that I walked to the edge of the water and knelt down beside it’s green mushy banks. After reaching my hand down and placing a few fingers in, a vision snapped into my head. It was that of a lonely mountain on a faraway island. Voices started screaming in my ears all at once. I couldn’t focus and recoiled as I withdrew my fingers from the small pond.
“I told you Naia. You must cast the breathe spell and then clear your thoughts. Jump in and cast the second spell. Then, and only then, open your mind wide and let the spirits guide you.
He reassured me then I attempted to enter the pool again.
I spoke the ancient elven words to breathe underwater and then I took three deep meditative breaths before jumping into the darkness beneath the water’s edge. Once underwater, I took my first breath in.
I was able to breathe underwater! The spell worked. I had only tried it in a shallow stream before.
All around me there was motion. I could see the shiny outlines of something whirling around me. There were many of them that kept bumping into me as though they were trying to feel me out.
Without delay, I cast the second spell, commune with nature. This one, I’d never thought could be used underwater, but here I was. After casting this one all the motion slowed down. My senses felt sharpened.
Naia, we’ve been waiting for you. It’s been so long since we’ve spoken to a Sapielle.
“Who are you?”
I was thinking, not speaking out loud. The conversation was inside my head.
We are the Quoquot. Our spirits live in another dimension, but we speak through this pool to those that can hear us.
“I’ve dreamt of this pool. I drowned in it.”
No, not drowned. You were just afraid. Let us show you your destiny mighty warrior.
Mighty warrior? What did…
Before I could think the words through, my mind took me to a faraway place.
It was Mount Mortuus, the location of my father’s death. The spirits showed me how valiantly my father had fought and while the other soldiers held back, he dove at the dragon, driving his sword into the heart of the massive beast and killing it almost instantly. He, the dragon, and Certan, our family’s enchanted sword fell into the volcano, forever entombed, I thought.
But then, the spirits showed me another vision. The evil god Zorgoth Mor, ruler of the fire plane Incaendium, resurrected the dragon Gilgarix and turned him into an undead steed of massive flaming proportion. I saw god battle god. It was Zorgoth Mor versus Vilagir, the god of the Balance, and in the end, Vilagir banished the evil god. The battle for Lucidium was won.
During the battle, I saw something that shocked me. As Gilgarix and Zorgoth Mor rose from the volcano, I saw Certan, my father’s sword, still stuck in the dragon’s breast. As the evil duo then began to fly out of the volcano, the sword became unstuck from the dragon’s flesh and fell to the base of the volcano stuck between two rocks that looked like gargoyles.
In my deep thought state, it was as if I was there on Mount Mortuus. I reached out toward the blade and touched the hilt. It was then that I saw the flash of a thousand stars. The sword began showing me all it knew. I saw the dark elves of Onix crafting and enchanting the blade. I saw the ceremony in which they permanently embedded the spirit of a warrior mage of ancient origin into the blade.
Certan is a living weapon! That’s why it tries to speak to me. It’s the spirit of a warrior mage bound to the blade. That’s why it imbues different powers to each owner.
No, not an it, but he. He senses the power within his bearer and grants that which each wielder can withstand.
And now you know, mighty one. You’ve been born and awakened and now your destiny awaits. Seek and find me without delay. Together we’ll be unstoppable.
Suddenly, the pool was done with me. It spat me upward and out and as I climbed out of the water, I looked at General Calean and spoke.
“I’m going to Mount Mortuus. I need to find my sword.”
…The Beginning
Recent Comments