Ashar'an Rising (Nexus Wars Saga) (31 page)

Higher still, nestled within the protection of the great leafy canopy, another platform perched, stretching like an undulating brown ocean. At first glance it looked to be a single platform, supported from every great tree, but it was soon obvious it was constructed like a lily pond. Bridges and paths, accessible by stair or ladder, linked many platforms. In a few places, great wooden enclosures could be seen, and some were even supported by intricate stonework.

It was the stonework that awed Andrak. Although he did not think Elves would not use stone or metal for building, he was surprised they would use it high above. Down below, some structures were made wholly of stone, while spires of stone, marble and silver were scattered through the glade. All were of beautiful craftsmanship and aesthetic perfection, and Andrak found himself standing with mouth wide. It was much more than he had expected.

Kalandar had turned to watch him ruefully, with no sign of Ashaella. The Elf's eyes shone as he saw the enraptured expression on Andrak's face. “Few outlanders are unaffected by the beauty of Lloreander.”

“
I have heard stories, but did not expect....” He knew to see was to believe, and no words could have been capable of conveying the scene before him. “I am thankful I have this chance, now.” He was reminded there might not be an Elvin city much longer, or even a city at all, but dispelled the thoughts. That Demons were now abroad meant one of the Portals was functional, and if one, maybe more. He had to get word to his father as well as inform the Elves of the extent of this threat, if they did not already know.

He had never been one to fear heights, but once he was high amongst the upper branches of the great trees, a creeping hint of vertigo began to gnaw at him. Knowing there was only a wooden platform between him and the ground, a hundred or more feet below, was disconcerting: the fact it appeared extremely sturdy and dependable hardly seeming to matter. Kalandar moved beside him easily and they often passed elves similarly at ease.

“
Ashaella mentioned a meeting of the Elders and Druids for Darksdawn, and that I should attend. It concerns these Demons, does it not?”

Kalandar nodded, his slender mouth compressing slightly in what could only be concern as he navigated a narrow bridge five paces across, leading to a higher level. “The Druids and the Elders will meet again with the King and Queen, and there will be much discussion about our future activities.”

“
Again?” asked Andrak. “So you did know of this threat earlier?” There was no accusation in Andrak's voice. He knew both his father and the Masters at the Astral City were sending messages concerning the threat, but did not know if the Elves had received notification already.

Kalandar nodded with a brief smile. “Yes, we received word three days hence by pigeon, plus the Lorewielders sent notes along the Essence flows to our Druids, but these came only five days ago. They warned the threat of the Demons was returning, and that we should prepare for the worst and make ready for deployment of men at the possible call from the Astral City.” Kalandar frowned again, showing his feeling towards this, but it passed quickly. “But still it did not help our sentries. By the time we could alert them, these Shadowspawn already wiped them out. Forty two warriors, dead.” There was a tremor of uncertainty in his voice and Andrak could tell what had caused it. As a long- lived race, Elves were naturally less likely to produce offspring, with few females having more than one child in their lifetimes. Such losses would be considered catastrophic in terms of their numbers. Although Lloreander was big, there was no hustle normally associated with thriving communities, leading Andrak to estimate their numbers could not be more than four or five thousand.

"What action is being taken?"

The elf Prince sighed. "Not enough, my friend. Not enough. Although we seem free to go about our day-to-day business, none have made it alive to the border of our lands."

Andrak was shocked. He had not realized the threat was so great. “Then what do you think your parents will decide?” Kalandar was the Elf Prince after all, so he should have some idea as to what the outcome of the meeting would be. “Ka’Varal seemed to think it would take some time for the Demons to build their numbers, something to do with the power of the Portals requiring time to stabilize. The more powerful the Demon coming through, the greater the chance of being vaporized. I never really followed it-”

He had taken several steps before realizing Kalandar had stopped, and was regarding him with a strange expression, almost one of stunned surprise. “Ka'Varel? You have spoken with the Kay'taari?”

“
Yes. He and his companion, Tyrun the Urak’Hai, were bringing my sister and I to Lloreander. He was injured during a raid and taken by Tyrun to be healed.” He spoke of the attack at the Arkanth ranges, which led to the tale about his encounter with the Goth and his meeting with Janantar, right down to their fight with the Demon. Kalandar listened with a thoughtful frown throughout, asking some questions about the Goth and the Demon.

“
You have my condolences for the kidnapping of your sister. If Janantar cannot fulfill his vow to assist you in finding her, I am sure some others can be persuaded to aid you in your cause. Such injustice cannot be left unpunished. The matter of Ka'Varel, however, will no doubt weigh upon this night's meeting. We know Ka’Varel, though under a different name, for he has visited us some few times over the years. He has shown us much about ourselves as a race: our background and heritage. Such a powerful and wise companion will be missed in times to come, I fear. We can only pray he is safe, now.”

Andrak could only agree. Despite the old man's eccentric ways and enigmatic choice of words, he had found himself beginning to trust and like him.

“
But we will find out soon enough what affect these happenings will have on our decision. Come; tell me about yourself, Andrak of Thorhus. Long has it been since we have had one from Ariakus here in Lloreander. The meeting is not for some time yet.”

Ashaella had mentioned the meeting was at Darksdawn, or Dusk, and the shadows were beginning to lengthen below. He followed the Prince and they spoke at length as he took in the wonders of the Elf city. Often the Elf would introduce him to those who walked past or point out something of interest, while Andrak found himself telling about the recent events in his life. The tournament was prevalent, and Kalandar showed much interest in it, asking about many of the contestants. Andrak could not remember a great many of them in detail, but he knew enough about the young man Valdieron and his Barbarian friend, Thorgast, to appease the Elf Prince's curiosity.

When he came to mention the death of Llewellyn, however, Kalandar's moment of shock turned into stony silence for the remainder of their wandering, making Andrak wonder if he had said something wrong. Llewellyn had once been from Lloreander, he knew, but he did not think the Bard was an outlaw or anything along those lines. It was not until after they had taken some food in an arched recess inside one bole, Kalandar told him the meeting would be starting soon.

The great hall, to Andrak's dismay, was amongst the highest branches of the Elvin Treecity, bringing back his feeling of vertigo tenfold as they climbed to reach it. These fears soon passed, however, as he found the hall not a conventional hall, but a thing of splendor and grandeur.

A wooden stairway gave way to a flat wooden floor, lighter in color than the rest, almost a pale gold and polished smooth. Overhanging branches arched down to create walls, interwoven with twisted pillars of silver, gold and marble reaching into the leafage. The four corners of the rectangular area were secured against great boles, lined with silver and artfully molded to create a natural transition between crafted and natural wood. Natural vine and rope was entwined with silver and gold for strength and aesthetic beauty.

At the very center of the hall a circular platform was set, bathed in pale light from glowing spheres, hung from the canopy above in netted bags of silver, fifteen feet from the floor. Twin thrones were situated side by side amid the glow, both of a white metal crafted to make them appear large. Thin metal folds stretched far to make them, but still they had the appearance of strength. Dark padding covered the seat and armrests of both, one golden and the other a pale blue like a clear morning.

Two lines of standing figures flanked the twin thrones. To one side, Elvin men and women in thin white robes stood silently. To Andrak they had the appearance of any other Elf he had seen, but there was about them an aura of peace that made him suddenly more at ease. None were armed, and there were six males and six females of varying age, the oldest having the whitest hair he had ever seen and a lined face marking him as old even by Elf standards, while another young female looking no older than he. He blinked at this when he realized this young female was Ashaellarinar.

The other group of figures was dressed in fine clothing, all of light material and predominantly neutral colors, yellows, greens and blues. The females wore flowing dresses with lace hems while the men had high collars and sleeves emblazoned with symbols, all in fine thread of gold or silver. What Andrak noted first was their age. All were obviously old as Elves go, with lines around the eyes or mouth or the stripes of white or grey in the hair. They muttered amongst themselves softly, seemingly worried given their expressions and hushed tone. There were seven in total, four males and three females.

If the standing figures looked authoritative and lordly, the two seated were like roses between thorns. His eyes were immediately drawn to the woman, lithe and alluring in a dress of shifting silver scales, while a white shawl encircled her shoulders. Still, it did nothing to hide the curve of her figure, nor the striking features of her face. Slender with high, pronounced cheekbones, full mouth and large, wide eyes, she was both exotic and ravishing. Andrak thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

The man was similarly handsome, though imposing. There was the likeness with Kalandar: strong jaw and dark eyes plus the long raven  dark hair held back by a silver braid. He wore a shirt of semi  transparent green silk, long of sleeve but not hiding a muscular torso and arms. A belt of vine held up trousers of white, striped with silver. At his side rested a long sword, an Al’katar as both Kalandar and Janantar owned, though this one appeared longer, with a hilt in the form of a leaping panther. On looking between man and weapon, there was no doubting the weapon belonged to him, or he to it.

Feeling a little uncomfortable in his seemingly plain clothing, Andrak tried to keep his head raised and mouth moist as he followed Kalandar into the hall. All beauty was beyond him now as he tried to recall what little he knew of the Elvin people. Of all things, he did not wish to make a fool out of himself in front of these two rulers, though he added Ashaella also. Casting a brief glance to where she stood with the other white- robed figures, she was studying the two seated figures intently, her beautifully pale face set with worry.

“
Mother! Father!” Kalandar addressed his parents almost off  handedly, turning side  on to sweep his arm to take in Andrak. “I present to you Prince Andrak of the Family Temorial, Son of Dhoric, King of Ariakus.” Andrak could not help but notice the Elf Prince's sudden smile as if he found humor in the introduction. He found the Prince enigmatic since his sudden quiet after mention of Llewellyn earlier, though he could not help but like him.

“
Andrak, may I present to you Mayeserana, Mother of Lloreander and Solantholas, Guardian of the Sylvaen.”

These titles were new to Andrak, and he was glad for the protection of a single knee bow as he knelt before the two leaders. The Sylvaen piqued his interest, and he wondered if it were some title. He moved one hand to knuckle his forehead while the other palmed the hilt of his sword, something he had read about some years back. It was something Jeran the Errant, Adventurer and Poet, had done in one of his stories upon finally meeting the Elvin Lords.

“
May the sun always caress the leaves that shade you from the Dark.” Its origin was unknown to Andrak, but also originated from the readings of Jeran. It was difficult to know its meaning, for how can leaves provide shade from the Dark, but there was a faint surprised murmuring from the gathered Elves, which he hoped was a good sign. When he raised his gaze to meet the two Elvin Rulers, he found they were both smiling down at him.

“
Rise, Andrak son of Dhoric.” The Elf queen’s purring words were more than a match for her beauty. “There is no need for such obeisance between us. Ever are we honored to meet one of your linage. Rise and be at your ease, for none should remain heavy of heart here of all places.”

“
My thanks, Lady Mayeserana, and truly are your words, for what ills could I bring that could remain in such a wondrous place.” He was somewhat pleased with this eloquent response and almost grinned foolishly. There was no pushing aside his worries however, for every moment that passed, Kitara seemed ever distant to him, like a fading dream.

Solantholas shifted on his throne, commanding Andrak’s gaze with his presence. “One of the warnings we have received concerning the Shadowspawn was from your father.” The Elf’s smile had faded at the mention of the Shadowspawn. His voice was dulcet yet strong, obviously used to command. "Perhaps you can tell us a bit more about why you come to be here in Lloreander."

Andrak nodded. “Regarding the Shadowspawn, you probably know as much as I, Lord Solantholas. I am here in Lloreander at the behest of Ka'Varel.”

The mention of Ka'Varel brought more soft murmuring from both the Elders and the white  robed Elves, probably the Druids, he decided. Solantholas also turned to his wife with a worried frown before turning back to Andrak.