benjamintowe

The following morning Ravenna went to the buttery to join Knarra for breakfast. A tall young man who bore striking resemblance to the Priestess sat with Knarra. He stood respectfully when Ravenna entered and extended his hand toward the elf.

Knarra said, “Captain Ravenna, I’d like you to meet my and Roscoe’s son Eyerthrein, the High Priest of Donothor.”

Eyerthrein said, “I’m honored to meet a true hero of Donothor. Stories of your valor fill our tomes and fireside conversations. Mother, you did not exaggerate about her beauty and resemblance to Erinnia.”

Ravenna said, “Take your seat, Eyerthrein. You said, Roscoe is his father. That means you and the Mage of Briar Garden are… together.”

Knarra smiled and answered, “Yes, he is my life mate.”

Ravenna sat down and said, “Lots of things have happened while I was away.”

The three had a glorious breakfast. The fruits of the forest had sustained Ravenna during her recent journey. The elf ate ravenously. After the repast the three made ready. Curates supplied Ravenna with riding gear. Farriers had prepared three stout warhorses.

“Why are the horses not armored? Where are the Rangers that will escort us to Lyndyn? Why are no archers on the allure?” the elf queried.

“We enjoy peace. The men work the fields. We have not felt a threat these fifteen years,” Eyerthrein answered.

“Youth! But were it to return!” a gruff voice interrupted.

“Roscoe! I could never forget the voice. Are you well?” Ravenna politely asked.

“As well as three millennia will allow, my red-haired friend. Seeing you makes me remember the vigor of youth, but I also remember constant peril. I am comfortable with my station in life. I am loved,” the old Sorcerer answered.

King Eomore Aivendar looked onto the quiet inner ward of great Castle Lyndyn. The quadrangle was almost empty. The king of Donothor usually slept well. This night’s insomnia and an unnerving sense of foreboding baffled him. He had left his warm bed and the closeness of his beloved Queen Cara and stepped out onto the balcony that overlooked the enceinte. The call of a night bird and a muffled cough from one of the guards high on the allure of the outer curtain disturbed the silence. Peace had prevailed since the victory of the sheriff of Knottington Lyana Rikmon and feminine warriors of Donothor against the demon and made guard duty largely symbolic. Castle Lyndyn was the most fortified place in the Kingdom of Donothor. Unlike the Fane of the Setting Sun and the dwarves’ citadel Hillesdale, Castle Lyndyn had never been under siege.

Eomore sighed. A faint fluttering caught his attention and grew louder. The caw of a griffin announced its arrival. The beast flew into the torch-lit area of the balcony. The creature carried a pouch emblazoned with the symbol of the Fane of the Setting Sun.

Griffins were among the most trustworthy and intelligent creatures in the realm. The muscular beasts were often trusted with the guardianship of children. griffins were often empathetic to light sorcerers, and the beasts augmented the healing capabilities of the light sorcerers.

Eomore Aivendar approached the winged creature and removed and unrolled the parchment. The king immediately recognized the flowing runes that categorized the Priestess Knarra’s handwriting. The king gasped. This could not be true! Was this glad tidings or a baneful notice? The message did not help king’s sleeplessness. Nonetheless he knew that Cara would miss him soon and quietly returned to their bedchamber and lay beside her to feign sleep. The king did not hear the soft lyrical elfish phrases. He never did and again slept.

Cara Nightshade Aivendar smiled. Forty years of marriage and her beloved had never detected the Sleep Spell. She would awaken him in the morning.

Ravenna answered, “The blood of your world flows through my veins. I’ve been away. I encountered an enemy our world glimpsed in the Iron Mountains War. I found the realm of the green elves. We called them Greelves, but they prefer the name Vydaelians, after their conurbation.  I’ve been a prisoner in the caves of a great underground cavern. I escaped from my prison and found my way to a world of three suns, one bright yellow, one black and distant, and one gray. The light of the three suns creates a night less amber world. The peculiar gray sun drew near and somehow empowered me. With new strength I reentered the caverns and sent many of the malicious creatures to the depths of the Abyss. I discovered a means to return to Donothor, a portal  between this world and ours. I’ve made my escape to warn you.”

“Ravenna, you have been gone a long time. We discovered the Portal Gate northwest of Lyndyn. Initially we found adversaries, but now the Draith Lord Calaiz numbers among our greatest allies. We call this world Parallan,” Knarra said with confusion.

“Knarra, the gate of which I speak lies in a Mender’s tomb and connects to the dungeon of Red Mountain in the Northern Range of the Iron Mountains in the room between the monk’s prison and Domingo’s door.”

Knarra interrupted, “Yes, we discovered the gate in the Iron Mountains War. We defeated the giants and their allies, took the evil chalice, freed the monk, but could not open the sealed entry to the realm of the Deep Elves.”

Ravenna replied, “The way is now open. The dwellers of the surface of the World of Three Suns know nothing of the Deep Elves. The Deep Elves grow stronger in the darkness of their world. Both the World of the Three Suns and our world are in peril.”

Ravenna chose not to fly and instead ran with the speed of a Haste Spell, without needing to conjure and use Hare’s blood, the rare material component for the spell. She made the usual three hour run to the Fane of the Setting Sun in minutes. The Fane sat peacefully on its hill. Flowers bloomed in the hillfort and dotted the glacis. Nothing impended her progress to the gates, which were ajar. Ravenna ran across the plain before the edifice and approached the open gate.

A sentry waited. He wore no armor and carried a short sword sheathed by his side. The tall man said, “Welcome, citizen. I’m afraid most of the facilities are closed at this late hour, but you can find some nourishments in the buttery.”

“Why do you not defend against me, Ranger?” Ravenna snarled. “What is your name? I’ll have you called before your Captain!”

“I’m called Cyril. Cyril Kessa. My grandfather is the archer Banon Kessa. I hope to follow his path. My lady, I thought you a relation of Princess Erinnia! You are as beautiful. And…and…your red hair!” the dumbfounded Ranger stammered.

“I know not of your lineage! I might have been the Sorcerer of the Lachinor or an assassin!” she continued.

“My lady, the Sorcerer of the Lachinor lives only in our texts. He and the assassin ‘s guild are gone now a thousand years! Are you well? Should I summon the Curate?” the man said with concern.

“I’ll speak only to the Priestess Knarra. Unless madness has taken her as well!” Ravenna fumed.

Ravenna Nocerre welcomed the night skies of Donothor. She neared the guard post manned by the Curates of the Fane of tbe Setting Sun and Rangers from Lynden. She relished the thought of companionship for the remainder of her journey.

The sturdy stone structure loomed ahead.

Quiet…

The Continual Light Spell cast upon the narrow turret illuminated the area around the base of the structure.

Statues… new structures stood neat the sturdy keep.

Taekora?

The Magick light glistened on the stone scales and reproduced the beauty of the prismatic dragon Taekora, the great ally of High Priestess Knarra, the Aivendars, and the peoples of Donothor. A second statue stood near the massive likeness of Taekora. She stared at her own likeness! A memorial?

Where were the guards?

“Hello?”  She called into the silence.

The only answer was the gentle wind from the gap.

Porschianna rode out on her coach. She cast Charm Monster, Silence, Dispel Magick, Power Word “Kill,” and Harm Spells. All failed.

She bathed her persona with Protective Magick, wore light mail armor, carried a short staff with a thickened end which served as a mace, and stopped her carriage a hundred yards from the encroaching females. The sorceress unleashed the four wyrms and ordered them toward Taekora. The wyrms were flightless but they were fast afoot, resistant to dragon breath, and were unaffected by most Magick.

Knarra and Porschianna exchanged spells. Neither gained an advantage. Knarra drew her mace and walked toward Porschianna.

Taekora faced the charging wyrms.

“I hate ‘fang and talon’ to ‘fang and talon’ combat,” Taekora moaned.

“Not as much as I hate hand to hand,” Knarra commiserated.

Theandra quickened her pace and within an hour was standing within sight of the walls of Ylysis. The outer curtain of the massive fortress teemed with movement. She uttered another brief incantation. She conjured up an opaque globe of shimmering spheres. The colors appeared in the order of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. The different colors flashed in a repeating pattern every heartbeat. The brilliance of the colors blinded anything in the immediate vicinity of the sphere which surrounded her. The sphere was ten paces in diameter; she could move about within the sphere and could command it to move forward. She cast another more detailed spell that required her to crush a small clay shield in her left hand as she conjured. A large translucent shield appeared and moved two paces in front of her. She began to move forward.

The guards upon the wall-walk surrounding Ylysis witnessed the formation of the Shimmering Spheres. The colors were beautiful but unnerving at the same time. The general appearance was that of a rainbow rolling toward the castle. She stopped a few hundred paces from the castle doors. There was loud recoil from the enceite, the quadrangle of Ylysis, and a huge flaming projectile raced toward her. The catapults were firing rocks molten by Magick.

With Mayard aboard Syrrth eased to the ground. Urra with Rhiann and Shyrra with the Shapechanger-Lennard followed. Three armed centaurs greeted the Cloudmares and their riders. The largest stood centrally and bore the visage of a man’s’ torso attached to the body of a horse at the withers, where the horse’s neck would be; others of his type stood heavily armed a few paces behind the greeting group. The powerful gray male carried a huge halberd. To his left stood a male centaur with a human body and legs joined at the waist with the hindquarters of a horse. This palomino colored male carried a longsword. A third centaur, a beautiful strawberry roan female. had human forelegs terminating in hooves. Her pinkish flowing hair closely matched her hindquarter coloration. She carried a wicked scimitar. Two snow-white winged centaurs hovered above the threesome and carried longbows with nocked arrows. Excepting their beautiful wings, the flying centaurs resembled the large male with the halberd. A blue Pegasus flew between the snow-white winged centaurs. He carried no weapon and looked back toward the walled edifice surrounding the Hanging Gardens.

Mayard Klarje approached the large gray with the halberd and said, “Why the show of force, Chiron? Does an old friend deserve such a greeting?”

The centaur lowered his halberd and addressed the approaching sorcerer, “Oh, it is you, Mayard. Our Cloudmare friends have never borne enemies to our gates, but I wasn’t sure we were seeing Cloudmares approach. Ill winds blow from Thynna. The Three Sisters have tightened the guard to protect the Gardens.”

 

He gently rubbed his daughter’s head and kissed his life-mate’s cheek.

“You must stay within the ten foot thaumaturgic circle that I’ve drawn upon the floor. Do not come to me. Do not stray regardless of what you see or hear!” Klarje urged.

“Our judges can show mercy. Do you think this entity will show you mercy? Is the fiend that approaches of Nature or Magick? It is certainly evil! Magick! Had our world never have seen its coming!” Cassi Klarje pleaded as Wyndam pulled away.

“I must do what I can. There is nothing left for it,” Wyndam said resolutely.

Cassi cried as she watched her life-mate gather material components from the old tattered bovine-hide container that had passed down through generations of his family. The sorcerer gathered his robe, an old staff, and a small phial of water.

Wyndam conjured, placed a small ball of dried Phoenix dung on the floor, and ignited it with a flint. The dung smoldered and permeated the air with the very pleasant scent typical of the beautiful rare white birds. A pleasant blue glow surrounded the circle he had drawn on the floor of his pastoral home and covered the faces of Cassi and little Morianna. Wyndam completed the Protection from Evil Spell. He then uttered an incantation, rubbed a small drop of mercury over his robe, and completed the Resist Fire Spell. Although unsure how much the spell would help against the ring of fire that observers said surrounded the massive Fire Demon that approached Lakeside, Wyndam knew it helped against fire-based Magick.

Mayard led Rhiann across the cleared area and into the nearby woods. They came upon the merchant Lennard, who held three large misty gunmetal gray equines by ornate bridles.

The beasts’ three huge eyes were the reddest things Rhiann had beheld in his young life. The three eyes sparkled like red diamonds, the rarest of Sagain’s jewels. Mayard said the middle or third eye was blind. Rhiann found gazing upon the intriguing beasts pleasant and touched the nearest shadowy creature. Surprisingly his fingers met resistance from the ghostly equine form.

Rhiann asked, “Is that the Shapechanger who attacked you in Lennard’s store.”

Mayard answered, “One and the same. He’s become a steadfast ally. Of the many facades he might project, he figured looking like old Lennard might worry you the least. He’s quite good with  steeds and procured the services of these three.”

Rhiann commented, “Those beasts lack wings. I though you said we’d fly to the Hanging Gardens.”

Mayard answered, “Cloudmares don’t need wings. They blend in well with the clouds. Urra, Shyrra, and Syrrth are Maranna’s friends. They graze near her home Cragmore. They have agreed to carry us to the Hanging Gardens and allow the bridles to help us hold on.”