Clanwilliam Of Elves And Orcs

Clanwilliam

of elves and orcs

By Sebastian H. Alive

Published by Sebastian H. Alive

License Notes

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Copyright 2015 Sebastian H. Alive

Chapter One

He walked slowly, his painted face covered by the ceremonial hood as he followed the evergreen bush-lined path under a green canopy of densely populated trees. The heady fragrance of wild Primroses, Thimbleweed and Bluebells drifted up his nose, blending together into a rich sensuous perfume in the warm stillness of the woodland.

It was remarkably quiet and hardly a sound was heard. The trees were still, with no gentle sigh of the wind to sway their branches or rustle their leaves. Even the birds were quiet and the only noise came from their feet treading softly on the dry packed earth accompanied by his shallow breathing. Ahead the trail forked into two and a hand rested on his right shoulder from behind, and he paused mid-stride to look up.

I offer you two paths, said the voice of his hooded companion over his shoulder. Your choice is a sacred privilege that only you can make. Which path do you take, Clanwilliam?

I take the path of our ancestors. he answered.

Then you honor them with your choice. came the reply.

Angling left they entered into the small clearing hidden inside the woods encircled by trees. Before them stood a line of twelve warriors wearing full-face helmets, garbed in dazzling silver armor with long flowing capes of mottled green. Each held a long glaive in one hand, blades standing upright with the ends of the poles resting on the earth.

Behind the warriors lay a deep green carpet of grass, dotted with clusters of white flowers beneath a huge weeping willow tree. Standing before the graceful tree was the High Elf, a tall, stern-looking man, his hair white and shoulder length with a crown of evergreens atop his head. He wore a long white robe trimmed with gold designs sewn into the hem and a red sash belt fastened around his slim waist. Flanking the High Elf stood six elders, clothed in similar garments with their arms clasped behind their backs and their eyes fixed on him.

Who goes there? demanded the High Elf in a loud, commanding voice.

It is I, Clanwilliam, a lost and humble elf. he called out.

Admit him and bring him forth so that we may see his face.

The line of armored warriors parted instantly before them and the two hooded figures walked slowly forward ten paces towards the High Elf.

Clanwilliam reached up and pulled back his hood, revealing his pointed ears and slender narrow face painted in ochre of deep orange and yellow. His head tilted up, and searched all their faces but they showed no emotion as they looked back at him, exuding reverence and respect.

The hand of his companion placed gently onto his right shoulder once again and he knelt on the ground in front of them, his head bowed low.

What do you seek here, Clanwilliam? asked the High Elf looking down at him.

I seek to offer myself to The First Children. he replied.

You were presented with a choice, Clanwilliam. The walk is symbolic in that it represents your journey through life until this point. You chose the ancient path. Do you declare before us, that, you did so uninfluenced by others?

I did.

And, you freely offer yourself to our order?

I do.

And, will you conform to the ancient laws and customs of our order?

I will.

Is your spirit clear and free from corruption?

It is.

And, will you defend The First Children from the threat of chaos and darkness even at the cost of your life?

I will.

The High Elf remained silent for a moment, and then looked over at his companion.

Is he properly avouched for?

He is. answered his companion.

Who are you?

It is I, Amras Ar-Feiniel, a servant of The First Children, guardian of the forest homes and the proposer.

Then step forward and reveal yourself, Amras Ar-Feiniel, so that we may see your face. ordered the High Elf.

His companion came forward before the High Elf and the six elders and pulled back his hood allowing them to see his face.

Amras Ar-Feiniel, is the proposed judged worthy of The First Children?

He is.

"Will you support him and nurture him on his new path?

I shall.

Will you help him make sense of each new skill and experience to ensure that the path he has chosen remains true to The First Children?

I will.

And, do you, Amras Ar-Feiniel, pledge to protect him in any way that you can, keeping away any that wish to do him harm, even at the cost of your life?

I do.

Do you accept that, if he dishonors The First Children, that you will be shunned and cast out to live alone in eternal shame and damnation never to return?

I do. replied Amras licking his lips nervously.

Good, the stronger your friendship is, the easier the transition for him. Your bond will be a precious one that should never be broken; a union of spirits that not even the sharpest of blades could sever. Now step back so that I may address the proposed once again.

Keeping his head low, Amras retreated as the High Elf turned his eyes to the kneeling figure of Clanwilliam.

Do the words of oath rest on your tongue? he asked.

They do. answered Clanwilliam without looking up.

Then speak freely so that the forest may hear them.

"We are The First Children, earth born, protectors through life, defiant until death, forever guardians."

The High Elf absorbed the words and not a flicker of emotion crossed his face, just a satisfaction in his eyes after he recited the oath.

Suddenly a gentle breeze blew through the clearing, lightly tugging at the white hair of Clanwilliam. The moment was fleeting then the light wind tapered off into nothing.

The forest is satisfied, said the High Elf lifting his arms aloft. Are all satisfied?

All are satisfied. chorused the six elders in unison.

Since there are no objections then bear witness today, that I, Elrohir Sáralondë, High Elf of The First Children and guardian of the forest homes, declare Clanwilliam a servant of The First Children, guardian of the forest homes from this day forth.

From this day forth. repeated the six elders.

Your initiate marks your rebirth, Clanwilliam, a new beginning with a new identity. Tell me, have you selected a new name?

I have.

Then speak it.

Glorfindel Lossëhelin. It means spirit-of-the-willow.

The forest hears it. Now arise and look upon me with your new eyes.

Clanwilliam rose to his feet and stared into the face of the High Elf, who nodded his head silently in return. As Elrohir Sáralondë turned his back on him to approach the elders, the briefest of smiles flickered across his young face as he glanced across to Amras, who smiled back at him. Seconds later the High Elf returned and draped across his outstretched arms was a length of red cloth which he presented to him.

This is from the cloak of our greatest hero, Daeron Séregon. It is the emblem of The First Children and represents bravery and courage. Take it in the knowledge of our fallen and know that it is more honorable than anything you have seen before or will ever see again. You shall wear it for one night only.

Reaching out Clanwilliam took the fabric in his left hand as the High Elf turned his back once again and collected something from the elders. When he returned he held in his right hand a bow of the finest quality and in his left a quiver of fifty arrows.

This bow was made by the Bowyer, Orodreth Arnatuilë. It was crafted from a single piece of wood taken from the Spirit Tree. A great line of elven heroes has hunted with this weapon.

Clanwilliam took the bow. The leather wrapped grip was comfortable and he hefted it for weight as he gazed at the growth rings of the wood which were dyed silver in color.

These arrows were made by the Fletcher, Lenwë Carnesîr using the tail feathers of Mablung, the great eagle.

The High Elf passed him over the quiver and Clanwilliam slung it over his shoulder.

As is custom following the ceremony of initiation, you must make your first kill. You shall hunt with it for one day only and tonight The First Children will feast and sing under the stars. When the sun rises in the morning you will be Clanwilliam no more and known only as Glorfindel Lossëhelin.

I will not fail you. promised Clanwilliam looking down at the bow in his hand with grim determination.

So ends the ceremony of initiation. called out the High Elf.

The six elders, still with their arms clasped behind their backs, walked towards the twelve masked warriors and stopped in a single line before them. The warriors smoothly split into two groups, six at the front of the elders and six at the rear and Clanwilliam watched them walk from the clearing until they were lost from view.

Did I do good, father? he asked with a wide grin as he turned to look up at the High Elf.

I am well pleased, replied Elrohir Sáralondë after a long pause. Go hunt and let your draw hand be quick.

Clanwilliam’s eyes roamed his face and he knew his father wanted to say more but instead the High Elf turned stiffly and strode past him without another word. His smile faltered and he looked down at the ground, dejected.

Suddenly there was a loud cry of excitement and Amras skipped over to him and clapped him painfully on the back.

Did my elven eyes deceive me? he hushed in a low voice as he pointed a thumb over his shoulder. Was that a hint of emotion on the High Elf’s face that I just saw?

Without waiting for an answer from his friend, he grabbed Clanwilliam by the shoulders and looked him up and down several times with an infectious grin plastered on his face.

I told you, didn’t I? I told you your time would come! he cried ruffling his white hair.

That you did my friend. said Clanwilliam smiling weakly.

Just look at you, all grown up. Are you pleased?

I am.

Amras paused with a frown on his face, staring intently at Clanwilliam.

Then why do you look like an orc has just shoved a war-mace up your buttocks sideways?

It’s nothing. I’m happy, no truly I am. he insisted.

Your knees were knocking, Amras chuckled. It was the same for me at my initiation when I was known only as Clantargen. Talking of initiations, you named yourself after a Willow tree, how terribly dull of you? For sure, the orcs across the boundary will sleep restlessly tonight. Why not pick something a little more courageous?

My mother carries the name of the red maple, and my father the great oak, answered Clanwilliam shrugging his shoulders. It seemed…the right choice.

Hardly fearsome, though is it? Trees don’t exactly strike fear into the hearts of the enemy.

We have no enemy.

The orcs will always be our enemy, said Amras grimly. A few written words will not keep them at bay forever.

The Great Truce is more than just written words, my friend. The First Children have known peace for 500 years. No orc has set foot on elven territories in that time and likewise no elf has gone beyond the boundary and encroached on orc soil. The Great Truce is as strong today as it was when it was penned. It will hold true.

We are segregated by mere inked words made by our forefathers, Clanwilliam. Mark my words, there will come a time when the orcs will assemble their armies at our frontiers and we will do battle once again, and I will be ready.

I truly hope that you don’t need to be. Anyway, you have never even seen an orc, let alone fought one or tasted battle! said Clanwilliam with a wry grin.

True, but then I don’t need to see them to know they exist. I can smell their putrid stench on the wind and the only good orc is a dead orc, remember that!

We best be going, my mother will be waiting for me.

Can I touch the cloak of Daeron Séregon once more? Can I? asked Amras eagerly.

Nodding his head Clanwilliam held out the length of red cloth and Amras held it in awe, his eyes gleaming brightly.

The cloak of Daeron Séregon, he whispered. We will never see his like again.

We have the Twelve.

"Talking of the Twelve, did you