Aideil: The Shattered World: Book One

Table of Contents

Keystones

The Forbidden Meeting

An Unwelcome Visit

Darkness in Mainwood

Evil Is Stirring

The Day of Sorrow

The Glen of Gifts

The Tyrono

The Morphling

Control

In the Dead of Night

Trapped by Death

The Depths of Foxwood

The Healers

Riders from Aniöm

A Game of Death

Unveiled

Maiden from the Seas

The Faltering Agenda

Friend and Foe

A Brief History on the Origins of Races in Alagana

About the Author

Aideil

Mill City Press, Inc.

2301 Lucien Way #415

Maitland, FL 32751

407.339.4217

www.millcitypublishing.com

© 2017 by M.E. Royce

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Printed in the United States of America

Edited by Mill City Press.

ISBN: 9781545603635

www.alaganatrilogy.com

Prologue

Keystones

At the summit of the mountain, the air whipped around, stealing the warmth from the small band of elves. Two were clad in thin iron with golden leaves inlaid into the metal. Steel hung at their hips, an elegant wood bow strung across their long backs. Beneath the forged metal was tightly sewn fabric to defend the wearers against the cold. Two braids circled their heads—the traditional style worn by the guards of mountain castles, such as Unsigra—in place of the fur hats that the rest of the company wore. The other three of the company were wrapped in thick animal-hide long coats. Together, they huddled on the edge of sheer rock. The dread presented by the cliff chattered their teeth as much as the cold.

Pale pointed ears with a red tip peeked out from frost-covered auburn hair. It was the first time Cara had been allowed to take the climb as a trained healer, and apprehension had taken her away from her duty of carefully coaxing the expecting elf up the icy cliffs. In the end, she wound up near the front of the band.

The Unsigra Guard had offered a feeble number to protect the Silver Elf and her partner as they scaled the cliffs of Keystones. Aideillian law decreed that before a child was born into an elvish family, the mother was to bathe in the legendary faërfall. However, the Unsigra Guard had been assigned the tasks of supporting local militia in detaining riots in outlying castles.

The faërfall to which this water lily and swordsman were headed would potentially offer a glimpse into the child’s future.

The elf in Madame Kyenz-eihra’s womb was her firstborn, and the prospect of becoming a mother urged her through the harsh sleet that pelleted against the fur-lined cloak.

The ever-present cloud that hung near the summit of the Keystones obscured the vast stretch of human farmland below. Although Vialett had silently prayed that the storm would ease up, the two hundred years of a constant blizzard hadn’t budged at her pleas.

In front of her the pinnacle of the mountain sloped upward into a point. A cave nestled in a nook a few hundred lengths ahead, but only a grey silhouette stood out from the thick flakes.

With a quick look back the way she came, Vialett whispered a final prayer to the Sky. No matter what the waters reveal, let me raise this child in love, without prejudice. Give me the strength to shape him or her with integrity and grow them into a being worthy of the Old Throne.

She felt a gentle hand cup her elbow and another wrap around her shoulder, urging her onward. Vialett buried her head into her love’s shoulder and closed the distance to the mouth of the cave. There, she would repeat the words from the ancient elvish text and request entrance. If the Guardian were willing, she and the healer would enter alone. Only female elves could request entrance without physical tests. Males would endure tests of strength, will, and intelligence until they were broken. Thank the King, I wasn’t born a male elf, or worse a human man, Vialett shivered, her thoughts silenced by the cave entrance suddenly appearing before her eyes.

A cold grey slab of stone that angled into a pitch-black crevice rose into the tempest. A grey mottled wolfhound sat on a slight ripple at the base of the entrance—the Guardian of Keystones. Although on its haunches, the hound still towered four heads above their two guards.

Cara shrunk back to Vialett’s side the moment the beast’s ink-black and deep blue eyes settled on her. Within a fraction of a blink, the wolfhound saw into her, using what she assumed was a natural-born occurrence of magik. It saw her darkest secrets, fears, and desires. Her twin sister’s face flashed before her laughing and then crumbled into ashes. Shaking, Cara tore her gaze away from those eyes.

Drifting away from the warm embrace, Vialett turned to the healer and slipped her hand gently over Cara’s to briefly squeeze it. The two elves shared their fear in a glance and then set a determined brow before cautiously approaching the Guardian of Keystones.

Vialett dipped down in a bow, her knee brushing against snow. She carefully noted to look directly into the Guardian’s eyes, despite the long black scar that had been carved down the right side of its skull. Cara flinched down to the snow a moment later, her attention absorbed by the wolfhound and no doubt the thick scar.

Vialett quietly began the recitation: Guardian, anointed by trial and set to protect the faërfalls of the Sky, I, Vialett Kyenz-eihra ask pardon for the blessing of Sight upon my child-to-be.

The hound shifted its weight forward, dense muscle clenching as it rose onto all four legs. Bending a front paw, the Guardian lowered its head level with Vialett’s. As she returned the intense gaze, an aura of peace surrounded her, as if the beast had extended its own mind to hers. The scarred eye no longer housed fear, for the ocean blue set behind the black rim softened into tenderness.

Slowly, the Guardian opened its jaws. Long pearl-white canines curled down inches from Vialett’s forehead. She heard the dim hiss of metal being pulled from a sheath. Her Lord knew that he couldn’t battle this creature, but she was comforted by the fact that he cared to the extent of exposing his skin to the frostbitten air. A delicate paw rested on her shoulder. The tips of the beast’s canines brushed against her wild hair, warm breath whisking away the ice that had built up around the crown of her head. Into her mind spoke a deep, weary voice, To you, my lily, you may enter. Vialett released a long held breath and stood the moment the Guardian’s paw had left her cloak.

The wolfhound had restored heat to her slight frame, and she moved forward with a renewed energy into the cave’s dark enclosure. Cara followed swiftly behind, jittering with anticipation and fear of getting lost in the tunnels.

The remaining three elves had begun shifting snowdrifts the moment the Guardian had granted passage to Vialett and Cara. The wolfhound shifted back into position on the ripple of stone, motionless.

The water lily and the healer left the white light of the mountain and entered an atmosphere of oppressive darkness. Light by torch was futile because of the strong draft that spiraled around them at regular intervals, so the two felt their way along the ice-coated walls.

The deeper they ventured, the more they realized that the walls had dried to the point of emanating warmth. The rock that guided their hands began to radiate a pale blue-green light, casting shadows that danced on the walls around them. Soon they followed an ever-narrowing passageway until they were forced to abandon their thick cloaks and meager traveling rations.

Cara eventually broke the silence. What do you imagine is at the end of this tunnel? The question had been hovering over them for some time now. Neither of them knew what the faërfalls looked like or what to expect. All they had to lead them was the law that forced them to bathe in the waters.

I suppose… Vialett began, but trailed off as the tunnel took a sharp left turn, obscuring the view of what came ahead. Vialett Kyenz-eihra slowed down and glanced back at Cara who looked down her long nose at the corner. Perhaps…perhaps this is the final step and we shall both have that question answered.

Cara dipped her head and Vialett turned back. After taking a deep breath, she turned the corner with her hand on her belly.

Her hand dropped numb at her side. The tunnel ahead widened into a vast cavern. The ceiling glittered with the reflections of luminescent water ripples and stones. Stalactites reached down toward undisturbed water that flickered with greens, blues, and purples. Silky ribbons of water fanned out from miniscule holes up above and tumbled over rocks at the far end of the cave. Whenever a ribbon of water landed on a rock, a soft burst of light emitted from that spot. The falls were divided into one main pool and then a multitude of separated pools of various depths.

Miss, shall we proceed? Cara squeaked. It was not her wish to shatter the barrier of nature, the only sound coming from the belated echo of water off rock.

Vialett tugged off her thin leather gloves and then unwound her forest green wrap. She handed her articles to Cara, standing before the pools with not but a breast bind and a loosely fitted cream underlayer.

Slowly, the water lily made her way into the waters, the rocks igniting into color under her feet. When she was waist deep, she dipped her head down under the water. The pool surrounding her spiraled with pearly coils of magik, the mystery of the faërfall hypnotizing Cara as she stood guard. It was a great honor to grant a Gifted healer the ability to join the company of one embarking on the Keystone’s Journey. She had vowed to take in every detail and savor every minute of it, for it was likely to never happen again.

Under the surface of the water, Vialett opened her eyes into a vision, the pearly strands entering her consciousness.

Kneeling in front of the water lily was a small elvish girl with her father’s look and a stick frame. She looked up with tears of abandon in her eyes. The vision blurred and refocused on a second child. This elf had her mother’s buoyant orange curls and a jovial smile. In her palms was the spark of magik, a Gifted child. The two characters spun around each other until the scene shifted to where they had grown a few ages. The elder sister faded to the backdrop, running in fright as her sibling dropped to her knees and screamed.

All of a sudden a light pulsed from the youngest child, and the pool surrounding Vialett flashed into a burning wasteland. Trees crumbled around her, and families fled in terror. Dark tendrils wrapped themselves around the child’s wrists, dragging her down. When the child looked into Vialett’s eyes, they flickered with red. Mutilated creatures rose around her, bowing to her command.

But in a blink, the elvish child’s eyes were hazel once more. A frightened face pleaded for help from her mother. The Dark magik shattered as her second daughter stood, a glow of white magik hovering under her palms. Mother…what am I?

Through years dealing with the qualities of healing and nature as a water lily, Madam Kyenz-eihra could feel the innocent aura radiating from this child. But how could such darkness be innocent? This Gift her second child was to have was no gift at all, but a curse.

Before she could rise from the waters of the faërfall to end this insidious vision, she saw the elder sister rush from behind Vialett wielding an old, human-made sword. The two siblings clashed; one with the sword and one with her hands held over her head. Before the two made contact, Vialett splashed upward in dismay. This was no future or vision in front of her eyes; it was a nightmare.

Invisible hands appeared from the depths of the pool and pulled her under. Vialett’s fingertips broke the water’s surface before a jerk caused her to release the breath she had been holding. Choking on water, she squirmed unsuccessfully against the draw of the waters. A voice whispered in her year, You don’t need to bring such destruction to the land of Alagana. All she needed to do was give up the struggle. But her maternal eye saw the innocence in both of them. She remembered looking into both eyes and seeing abandonment as well as love. The former was something that could be changed. Vialett believed that these visions only showed one outcome of Fate, so the sadness and destruction and darkness need not ever occur. She would see to it that it wouldn’t. She would raise both elvish girls. By the time she had made up her mind, she had run out of time. The water flowed down her throat and she convulsed, searching for air.

Cara had been watching the proceedings most closely in angst, and when her Lady didn’t come up for breath, she abandoned the clothing at the lip of the pool and dove down to scoop up Vialett’s weak body.

On the edge of the pools, Cara snapped her fingers over Vialett’s unconscious figure. A spark of daisy yellow magik ignited. She rubbed her hands together and blew gently on the spark until her hands glowed a vibrant golden light. Quickly yet skillfully, Cara placed her hands on Madame Kyenz-eihra’s stomach, circling across her torso in precise patterns. This was what her duty was, to keep her Lady alive.

Water spouted out of Vialett’s mouth as Cara finished the sequence by dragging a finger up from the diaphragm to her chin. Coughing, Vialett’s first words were one’s that Cara swore to never utter to another on penalty of death. She must never come to use magik, or she will destroy us all.

1

The Forbidden Meeting

The two sisters wove their way through the trees that their ancestors had nurtured from saplings. These trees now towered up and out hundreds of feet into the air, with branches that seemed to race into the clouds. The tree’s limbs were wide enough to carry two wagons comfortably, which was good for the merchants were thick that day. They came from the many vast corners of Alagana so their horses and ponies whinnied and stepped unsteadily on the well-trodden tree-road. The merchants were used to land travel where cities weren’t cloaked in concealing magik and their tents weren’t hitched hundreds of feet in the air.

The first day after the new moon was market time—one of the only times citizens put aside religious views and petty feuds and gathered to listen to the bards who told wild, adventurous stories. This joyous gathering was where the many societies greeted each other in a polite fashion. The worn wagons carried rich fabrics, sharpened steel, and strong ales. Exotic instruments hummed underneath merchant wives’ fingertips, adding a foreign tune to the city of Mainwood. Clever men raised the bids when elvish Council members passed their way and sat back as their wares were observed.

The elder of the two girls, Arden, felt right at home, wearing her green cotton pants that hung loosely around her legs, tied by a piece of leather around her midsection. A cream colored, fitted blouse was fastened down with hand-made leather armor on top. Over her entire outfit was an old, beat-up woolen cloak that she wore everywhere no matter the weather.

Arden stood a good two feet taller than her seven-year old sister Eyolin and had her father’s long, angular face with almond eyes and a lean, stringy figure. Playfully, Arden ruffled Eyolin’s buoyant, orange curls, a careless smile dancing on her tan skin. She had the looks of an Amber Elf, despite a pure heritage of Silver blood.

A large wooden wheel shuddered beneath the weight of leather saddles piled high on an old cart. The movement pushed the two elvish girls to the edge of the branch. The younger of the two shifted to the side, peeking over into the waxy layers of green foliage, her footing slipping slightly.

Careful, Eyolin, the wood has not yet dried, Arden exclaimed, pulling on Eyolin’s beige blouse.

Arden coaxed Eyolin along, away from the giant merchant wheels that tottered along and toward a pleasant, honey-colored shop. Two wizards were hard at work by the exterior walls. They were recognizable by their vibrant-colored cloaks. The part of the tree where their hands were touching glowed a dim, luminescent blue-green, for they were generating the required protection spell that kept the trees alive and healthy, since the shops and homes were carved directly into the wood.

One of these wizards picked his head up slightly at the approach of the Silver Elves. Eyolin’s face lit up. Mageiyro, Mageiyro! She squealed, rushing into his arms.

How is my little warrior these days? Mageiyro asked, assessing her with a good-humored serious demeanor. Eyolin pulled her fists up to her waist and stood tall.

As Mageiyro sat back on his heels, she puffed out her chest. Ah, yes. That will do magnificently. You should be very proud of your little sister, Arden. She has the makings of a fine soldier, he said with a wink.

Arden pursed her lips and spun Eyolin around. Very fine, Mageiyro, came her curt response, Eyolin, come. This particular nature wizard had expressed interest in Eyolin from the moment he had laid eyes on her. Arden worried that he knew of Eyolin’s Gift, but so far he hadn’t betrayed them. Best if we limit contact with the scariyai. No need interesting Eyolin in their practices, Arden thought.

These days, the wizards had been working overtime. The trees had been getting sick much more frequently. Their branches would turn brown overnight, and bark would crumble away. The wizards would rush to them at daybreak to revive them, but they didn’t always get there in time. Once in a while the thud of a tree limb that had snapped off would awaken a neighborhood in the dead of night. No one would dream that night, as the elves of that area stayed up praying that no one had died.

If one were to look closely at the shaded face of a Gifted nature wizard, one would see distinguishable bags and weary eyes gazing back. The second wizard tending to the wood looked over a curled shoulder, two eyes peering out from under the hood of a crimson and deep green cloak.

Arden bowed her head respectively and gave Eyolin a slight nudge so as to do the same. It was custom to show respect to one’s elders, especially elder magicians. They were the city’s certified spellcasters and were put in charge of various daily jobs that needed tending to throughout the city. For a city cloaked in magik, keeping out nasty forest creatures required a constant stream of magikal energy.

Eyolin looked up at her sister with big eyes and quickly imitated her, bowing a bit too dramatically before bouncing over to the old man standing at the register in the shop. The old man smiled warmly toward Eyolin through deep, chestnut eyes and immediately reached down below the counter. His hand came up with a long, red strand of licorice that made Eyolin squeal with delight. He was unusually open and at ease in the midst of the elves. Those who visited his letter shop even regarded him as one of their own, a gesture increasingly rare.

While her little sister nibbled on her licorice, Arden strode diligently over to the sanded mail counter and propped herself up on her elbows. The old man reached behind him into a cubbyhole and retrieved a handful of letters. After he counted them out and scratched a few calculations, he surrendered them into Arden’s eager hands. Arden stuffed the letters into her cloak and dug around her pocket for payment. She retrieved four bronze rykes and slapped them down onto the counter where the old man carefully slid them into his frail palm and counted them.

Arden dipped her head quickly in a gesture of thanks before turning away to take out the letters. Her thumbs fumbled through the stack, pausing for a moment at each one as she studied the names. Her breath caught, and suddenly she dropped all of the letters, save for one. Eyolin scuttled about beneath her fetching the dropped letters while Arden tore open the seal violently.

Arden gripped the crisp, neatly folded paper, and her eyes widening as she read. Every now and then she would throw a furtive glance down toward her little sister who was contently savoring her licorice.

Finally, she folded the letter back and stuffed it in her pocket with a huff. Taking a breath she muttered a quick thank you to the shopkeeper and rushed out the door. She caught herself just in time, for her momentum almost took her off the edge of the branch where she would have most likely fallen to her death.

Eyolin scrambled up and dashed after her sister, watching curiously as Arden tossed her head from side to side, searching the crowds of merchants and civilians. Arden finally looked down when she felt a little tug on her pants.

Arden assessed her sister before speaking. Eyolin, wait here okay? I have to go and talk to someone. Stay out of trouble until I get back.

Eyolin mashed her lips together and blushed before eyeing the end of her licorice strand. The shop owner leaned over the side of the counter and called out, I’ll keep an eye out for her; you run along.

As Arden disappeared around the side of a tree, the concourse of villagers shielding her from Eyolin’s eyes, she felt a hand tighten around her shoulder, causing her heart to leap into her throat. Whipping her head around she saw three ladies. Two looked to be near thirteen—just older than Arden herself. The third looked ancient in a straight, outdated, deep green dress that emphasized her lack of curve. The two younger figures had one distinguishable human attribute, rounded ears. The elder had the long, delicate fingers and stance of an elvish woman, her thin tipped ears pierced with a single iron ring. She wore her fine, gray hair in a braid down the back. On her wrist was a black insignia of an S. The two other girls dressed in clashing apparel. One wore a pale orange ball gown, corset and all. Her undeveloped hips were snuffed out by the numerous underlayers, making Arden swallow down the urge to cringe from jealousy and pity. On the other end of the spectrum stood a girl with raven black hair that fell to her waist. She wore a fitted black, stretchy leather jumpsuit and thick-soled boots. The elder stepped forward and crossed her arms; a crease in between her eyebrows and a frown made Arden fight to not shiver and run away.

Am I right to assume that you received our letter? She asked in a bitter, monotone voice. We are here on behalf of the Sisters. We have developed an interest for your sister, Eyolin, and her talents.

Arden arched a thin eyebrow and shifted her weight. That’s impossible, she exclaimed to herself. The Sisters couldn’t possibly know about Eyolin. She’s withheld her power from the outside world all her life.

I’m sorry, but Eyolin isn’t for sale; she’s my sister. These talents you speak of are mere trifles, nothing of worth. Arden lifted her chin. Eyolin may not be available, but I am, she thought. I, on the other hand, would like to know more about the Sisters. I’m a fast learner and dedicated to my work. What could you offer me?

The princess-dressed girl in the ball gown sneered at Arden and snorted. The elder gave her a stern glare. Enough, Mariah.

She turned back and assessed Arden, her eyes sweeping up and down Arden’s figure. I suppose we could make something out of you. You’re a bit old for initiation, but I could see you being of use, Arden Kyenz-ushteira. Take this and follow your instructions carefully. We will wait no later than midnight to meet you. Come alone with only the clothes on your back. That is all…and if your sister happens to take up an interest in us, feel free to bring her along—with your mother’s consent of course.

The elder handed Arden an open envelope with the same crisp, white paper inside and then vanished into the throng of people, the two girls following closely after.

Arden flicked open the paper and hungrily soaked in the writing.