PROLOGUE
When I was a young boy, my mother
regularly took me to the Nesa Woods. We elves have a habit of being deeply
connected to nature, especially forested areas because of our history of
self-sufficiency; living off the land. The lesson elven children learned in
school was that we all sprouted from seeds fallen from Iptola, or “World
Tree" as it's referred to in simple-speak. Mother said Dwarves and Humes
came from Iptola as well; that they and elves all share a bond in that regard.
While traveling through the Nesa
Woods one day, mother was teaching me a new lesson: life. She would lecture me
on the importance of valuing all life on Archos as we walked through tall grass
and weeds that surrounded mossy rocks and thick tree trunks laying on the
ground. Silence never came to the Nesa Woods; not because mother liked to talk,
but because there was always a bird chirping or a cricket playing its song-
something like that.
We continued to walk through
several thickets of grass as we heard grut stags galloping through the woods.
As we approached Iptola, my mother continued her lesson.
"All creatures of this world
once lived in this lush place," she said. "We weren't always so
hostile to the Humes and Dwarves. Although they’ll likely tell you a different
tale, elves know at one point we once called them our brothers and
sisters."
"Like Gordea?" I asked.
"Yes, even her," said my
mother.
Gordea was a little Dwarven girl
who was snatched from her lands in the north by a nidhog; a nasty, flying
creature whose talons rip flesh like parchment.
The large beast flew Gordea all the
way to our lands and right above the elven city of Enuè (pronounced ON-WAY-OO).
Guards in the city took to their mounts and chased down the nidhog, and before
launching arrows into its chest they noticed the little dwarven girl in its
clutches. A swift rescue brought her back down to our city, where she lived
until the Priestess decided what to do with her.
For a time, I'd visit Gordea in the
Thaumaturgory, where she learned to craft magic from the most skilled magicians.
One day she was taken away from Enuè. I was never told why, but I like to think
she was sent back to her home north of the Thunderspire mountains.
Mother and I were now close to
Iptola. The massive Tree reached far into the skies as it does today. My mother
said regardless if you reside in the eleven city or any other land on Archos,
you had a duty to ensure the World Tree's safety; war was never an excuse for
danger to come to It.
"Why is the Tree so
important?" I asked my mother.
"Iptola is what gives life to
our world" she replied.
She withdrew her oak staff and cast
a magic spell at a nearby boulder, draining physical essence from the tree. In
her hand, she now held that essence. "Magic shards are what make up
everything in our world," she said as she pointed to everything in our
surrounding.
"What about me, mother?"
I asked.
She smiled. "Even you,
Hollum," she said as she pointed her dark finger on my chest. "You
have magic in you, just like I do, and just like your father did."
"What happened to father's
magic when he died?" I asked.
"It went back into Archos and
eventually to Iptola," she replied. "All life returns to the World
Tree to be renewed, repurposed, then gifted again to the world as magic in a
new form."
After walking some more, we
approached the great Tree. Its leaves were a deep green and its branches had a
lengthy span. Critters had taken refuge between the great splits in the bark.
There were wooden walkways built into the Tree long ago when the people of Archos
were tree-folk. The walkways are still there, but now the hovels built into the
hollowed-out trunk were empty, and the only steps taken upon the walkway today
were those of scavengers.
I approached the Tree's trunk and
placed my hand on it. It was warm. I could feel magic emitting from it.
"You feel it, don't you,
Hollum?" my mother asked. "The might of it, you feel it, yes?"
"I do, mother," I said
with a slight tremble in my voice. Iptola was intimidating not only because of
its size, but because Elves revere the Tree as some sort of deity; a
lesser-god.
"Respect Iptola," said my
mother. "Love this tree as you love me and your sister. Then replicate
that love with every person you meet. Without heart there is no peace, and
without peace, there is chaos." She was now pointing into the sky. Above,
the World Tree, above Archos orbited Nol. It was Archos' moon, but it was not
whole.
When the people of Archos were tree
folk, a large meteor pierced Nol and left destruction in its path. Some debris
fell to Archos in the form of meteorites. At first, the people of the world
thought they were gifts from the Entity.
Mother says creatures crept from
the meteorites and merged with the rocks of the land, the waters of the ocean,
the air we breathe, the light that illuminates the dark, and even darkness
itself. These creatures now walk among us as beings known as elementals.
Something else came from those
meteorites. They're called a different name depending on where you live, but
the most common name was "wraith." No one truly understands the whole
nature of these creatures; only that they are blood-thirsty and will kill every
living thing or person in their path.
Mother and I were now walking back towards the lake not far
from Nessa Woods. A caravan waited for us on a road that led back to Enuè. As
we approached, the driver greeted us.
"All done for today, Meruna?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied. "He'll be a scholar in no
time."
As we stepped into the caravan I
dreaded the thought of sticking my head into tomes all day. Most elves believed
we have one purpose to always hold dear: intelligence conquers all. Whereas my
sister was gifted in school, I was less so. I preferred to create things and to
build. My father encouraged me to learn the craft of carpentry, but my mother
insisted knowledge was far superior. The fact that carpentry involves knowledge
creates a sense of irony in her statement, but I listened to her regardless.
Our caravan traveled along the
bumpy road as the driver hummed an old folk song, presumably to the horses
carrying us for the ride. Although not the Nesa Woods, this pathway had a
bountiful number of trees. Among them did the goblins stalk prey, waiting to
knock an unsuspecting victim unconscious and loot their bodies. The little imps
attack without warning, but mother always had a lightning spell on hand to zap
their tiny bodies.
The road began to become rocky as
we climbed a hill. When the wheels nearly reached the top, one snapped and
caused the caravan to come to a halt. The driver managed to get out in time and
push the caravan over the top of the hill with the aid of the horses pulling
their weight.
"I can fix this," said
the driver as he began to cast a spell to fabricate a temporary wheel made from
magic shards. Typically, magicians would use framework magic to build parts of
homes they planned to make improvements, or perhaps plan a temporary fort near
the battlefront; however, we often find additional uses for our skills than
intended.
Just when the driver was nearing
his completion of the wheel, a growling noise came from behind us down the
hill. A sheep yelled in agony as a panther chewed into the poor small
creature's neck. Mother and I stepped out of the caravan where we saw blood
dripping along the sheep's corpse as well as the panther's mouth. The vicious
feline now had its eyes fixed on us.
"Stand back, Hollum," she
said. "These creatures are fierce."
"But you taught me how to cast
a fireball," I protested. "I can help!"
"Another time," she said
as lightning formed around her staff. She pointed it directly at the panther
and began to shock it. The creature wailed in pain but lunged from the sheep's
body and headed up the hill.
"D-dear me!" exclaimed
the driver. He had a magic staff too but was clearly too in shock to do
anything. "We must leave!" His yelling startled the horses and they
let out a collective whiney.
"No," said my mother.
"We run when a battle cannot be won."
I stood behind the caravan with the
driver cowering next to me as we both watched my mother battled the beast. She
wore a set of leather armor that wouldn't hold up well against such a beast;
however, my mother was extraordinary. Her fierce nature would come out when danger
was present; more so if I was in danger.
The panther scratched my mother and
she fell to the ground. She cried out in pain as blood dripped from the wound
on her shoulder. We looked at each other as the
panther slowly prowled onto her. Although I stood in horror, my mother looked
brave. She simply smiled at me and quickly got to her feet. She cast several
more lightning bolts at the creature and managed to dodge a swiped from its
claws. Mother was agile, and casting a spell to make her move faster on
increased her movement as she fought the beast.
It managed to slap it once in the
skull, putting it into a deeper state of rage. That's when mother's eyes began
to glow as she cast another spell I'd never seen her use before. She pointed
her staff at a nearby boulder and after a moment it too began to glow. Using
the staff as some sort of untethered manipulator, mother lifted the boulder and
hurled it at the panther, smashing it into a nearby tree. The beast's claws
fidgeted for a moment, then stopped.
Mother walked over to the tree to make sure her attacker was
dead. She knelt and beckoned for me.
"Come here," she said. "You know what we must
do." I knelt next to her and we put our hands on the panther's
mangled body. We closed our eyes and recited the prayer.
To Iptola you go. On Archos you'll stay. Last breath now taken, you've
arrived to your last day. We pray you're not angry. We pray you have peace.
Rest easy creature of this world.
We stood up and mother pointed her
staff at the dead panther. She drained its essence and in her palms, she now
had a handful of magic shards. She dropped them into my hands.
"Always remember no matter who
you become and what path in life you choose to take, we are all made from these
magical things." said mother. "Because we are one in the same, treat
the fallen no different than the living. We all come from these, and we all
return to these."
That day
I understood what my mother was teaching me. The war between factions in the
world had brought mass hatred to this world. Mother believes this is what
caused the wraiths to thrive on Archos when they arrive. That's why she wanted
me to know respect for all life: because war can change that.
After the caravan driver was no
longer cowering, he transported my mother and I back to Enuè. He didn't charge
my mother for the return fee because of "unforeseen circumstances that
likely ruined the trip." We disembarked the caravan then walked towards
our house. I was back home in my city and within a few years I would join the
defensive front of the elven faction, Estel.
However, my years fighting the
Dwarves and Humes didn't last forever. I would one day find myself escaping
city and military life to make a quiet home not far from Nesa Woods. Little
did I know; my small private settlement would become a symbol I never expected
it to be.
