Chapter 1

Chapter 1




    Darkness, everywhere she looked was darkness even from under her protective glow of magical light that illuminated from the palm of her hand.  The deep underground filled with an impenetrable, never ending darkness.  Carefully the tall, lean figure of the woman made her way deeper into the belly of the cavern.  Her white and silver gown seemed to just hang from her narrow shoulders and sweep down her long slender waist to delicately caress the moist stone floor.  The air was laden with a thick smoky scent that mixed with the sweet-salty fragrance of the saturated stone walls to leave a familiar taste on her tongue. After a few minutes, she came to two tunnels leading in opposite directions.  Here she paused as her thoughts weighed heavily on her keen mind.  Suddenly she heard a slight noise, faintly it echoed from the tunnel to her left.
    Some where in the darkness, a gigantic scale covered beast stirred as it adjusted its comfortable position on the cool damp cavern floor.  The scales of its tail screeched across the smooth surface of its bed sending a whimper of an echo racing down the warren of passages.  The enchanting Elven woman turned her ever soft cheek towards the sound again as she listened intensely.  Having decided, she turned and made her way down the left corridor as gracefully as if she were gliding across water.  The jagged stone in the rough and uneven ground did not hinder her movement at all.
    After a short time, she paused again, holding her hand out before her so the soft hue of the floating light might slice the darkness.  She cleared her throat quietly then took a deep breath of the dank, earthy air through her nose.  She could now hear the heavy breaths of the great beast; deep and soft like thunder from across the forest; slow and steady like the waves that crash against the rocks of the Sea.  Hearing the sound the beautiful woman quickened her pace just a little.  Though her slim Elven body allowed her to be quick and agile, the terrain underfoot was still treacherous.
    Finally the tunnel narrowed just enough for the magic hue of the light to dance and play of the wet walls with a glistening display of pure beauty.  With just a few more steps, she came to the end of the tunnel.  It opened into a larger room filled with thick blackness that the tiny light could not penetrate.  Holding her arms out wide as she stepped into the mouth of the chamber her thin pink lips parted as she uttered a single word of magic.      “Saph~ari’a”, she whispered in a commanding tone.  With the sound of the last syllable, Two dozen Dargon torches that spanned either side of the entrance burst into a crackling blue and white flame.  The fires chased the blackness away as their ferocity peaked into tall dancing tongues of mystic fire.  The cavern was nearly two-hundred feet across and at least half that in width.  The walls were uneven as they twisted and turned leaving nooks and crannies to hide in.  The floor was littered with rare and exquisite treasures from far and wide.  Piles of pearls and gems of every color and size gleamed in the new light.  Armor-ancient and finely crafted in several styles stood nicely prepared on stands of mithiril.  Weapons of every kind laid everywhere in the mounds of gold, silver, platinum and antique relics collecting dust.
    On the far side of the magnificent treasure room, the beast stirred again.  Its breath deepened and held for a few seconds, and then the slit of its eye cracked open.  Gleaming fierce and red the beasts eye clinched shut against the painful glare of the light.  Its huge head lifted from the ground and the Platinum dragon opened his eyes again.  They burned with a fierce red before adjusting to the new brilliance of its lair.  “Why have you disturbed me?”  Its dry voice cracked the silence with a deep and regal boom as its tone filled with irritation.
    “Be careful how you use your tongue with me Baeldar!”  Glamndria’s sweet voice threatened back from across the chamber.  “You should be honored that I have left my home and graced you with my presence.” She added in a challenging tone that was still harmonious and delicate.
    “Forgive me my lady, my thoughts have not cleared yet from my slumber, Please accept my sincerest apologies.”  Baeldar breathed through his razor sharp rows of neatly curved teeth as he stepped from the shadows and into the room before the lovely Elven woman.  Glamndria narrowed her gaze at him as he approached, her pose unyielding at his ominous size.  She stood motionless, unafraid, waiting for the great Platinum dragon to stand before her.
    “Of what service can I do for you Glamndria?”  He asked as he came to a stop in the middle of the room.
    “YouManeff is in great peril, there are dark magic’s gathering forces, creatures of the underdark come to the surface-”
    “And this concerns me why?  I have no cares for human troubles.” Baeldar rudely interrupted her with a sharp anger in his tone as he raised his voice.
    “YOU forget your place to easily Baeldar.”  Glamndria shouted as she stepped forward raising her right hand to halt his tongue.  “I do not care what discontent you have, you are a Platinum Dragon- sworn to protect the races from evil….Do not forget it again.” The Elven woman threatened in a tone that quivered with anger.
    Baeldar quickly averted his eyes from hers and lowered his head in a respectful bow.  He knew instantly that he had crossed the line, and Glamndria was not a force to reckon with- especially when she is angry.
    “Perhaps you have been asleep to long Baeldar.  What is it now….almost three hundred years…Hmmm- It seems my decision to wake you was right after all.” Glamndria continued now in a softer tone that sounded soothing.
    “Once again I apologize-” Baeldar started but Glamndria cut his words short.
    “Don’t worry about it…I get cranky when I first wake up as well.
    The huge dragon turned his gaze back to Glamndria slowly as she began once again to tell him why she had come.  “Whispers of war are carried on the wingless breath of the winds from the south.  Tieyarkiel has defeated the demon and sent it back to the Abyss, but Reinhold has escaped into the Black Mountains.  He commands a large force and aims to command the army the demon forged to conquer us all.”  Glamndria finished, her voice laden with worry.
    “The days ahead indeed are plagued with darkness.  If…this Braxon gains control of the evils of the world, can he really be that big of a threat?” The majestic voice of the dragon questioned.
    “He already has the support of many Black Magi and the perversions of dragon kind are at hand again.”  Glamndria answered.
    “No…Draconian’s!”  Baeldar exclaimed with concern, “What is your wishes- mother?”
    “FLY; Fly to the Temple of Habbuku….Summon the Elders by my order…The High Council must meet again.  The Platinum’s must discuss this matter over….We must prepare….WAR is inevitable…”  Glamndria’s voice trailed off to a mere whisper as she finished.
    Without further delay, Baeldar reared up on his hind legs stretching to his full towering height of thirty feet.  His mighty wings opened with a thunderous snap, the muscles in his thick scaly legs flexed as his long talons dug deep into the rock.  With a sudden burst of energy, he leapt into the air beating his powerful wings in huge graceful sweeps that lifted him higher and higher until he reached the opening at the top of the cavern.  There he paused for just a second as he yelled down below. “Do not fret, my loyalties lay with you, I will make haste and you will not be disappointed”.  Then with a flash, he rolled into a dive to gather speed as his wings tucked in tight to his sides.  He was gone.
    Glamndria stood a moment longer in thought.  Though the demon was gone, her senses screamed out at her of great and terrible evil coming.  “Yes dark times do indeed plague us…This evil- this evil I fear is greater than that which we have seen yet…”  She uttered to her self in a tone of dismay.  Suddenly the Elven woman spun on her heals so fast her long gorgeous silver hair came across her face as she disappeared back into the mouth of the tunnel.

    Far across the lands deep in the heart of Edgewood Forest, home of the Sylenviste Elves, the great city Crystndale was not filled with the usual sounds of joy and lighthearted song and dance.  Instead, the air was thick with rumor and anticipation; the beautiful white stoned walkways lay hidden under the soft leather boots of the Elven citizens as they gathered in small groups of hushed voices beneath the late afternoon sun.  
    Tyrell glanced around, his deep blue eyes absorbing all that they saw as he made his way to the Pristine Chapel.  He could sense the worry and the troubled thoughts of those he passed as some averted their eyes and others turned their faces from him.  He had noticed that the high jolly spirits of the elves had been diminishing since the Battle of Narsh-Turath.  Word spread quickly throughout the kingdom of the hard-pressed victory, but also that it was just the beginning of darker times as news of more war to come filled the air.  Tyrell was also aware of the disappointment that came with the swift word that he was unable to unite the three pieces of the crystal and that the last prophecy of Aleron was misinterpreted.
    The large Knight did not let the odd treatment of his friends show that it affected him, wore heavy on his heart or filled him with a sense of failure.  No, he would not burden them with such things that devour his insides; his pace remained the same and his expression un-changed as to not reveal his own inner turmoil.  The steps of the Chapel could not be beneath his feet any sooner he thought to himself.  Yet at the same time, his stomach twisted with the possibilities and subject matter to be discussed today in the meeting of the Elven council, suddenly those very steps that seemed to be a relief turned sour in his thoughts.
    Suddenly the soft touch of an all too familiar and welcome hand fell upon his forearm in a reassuring caress.  The un-spoken words from the gesture brought a slight smile to one corner of his mouth.  He held his step just long enough for Galedian to catch his stride as he turned to greet her.  “Good day to you My-lady.” He greeted in his deep alluring voice spreading the smile on his lips even more.  
    “Good day to you my love.”  Galedian replied in her usual tone knowing her husband understood the words of her touch.  Though she herself was young and missed unsaid things often, she knew well that not much escaped the observations of Tyrell.      Together they walked side by side until they came to the steep stone steps leading up to the magnificent and finely carved doors of the Pristine Chapel.  There by Galedian’s gesture they paused as she turned to stare into the mesmerizing depths of his dark blue orbs before attending the meeting.  Aware that they were finally alone her lips parted with the tender sound of her hushed voice.  “You know, I’m sure, that they do not think you failed them or have let them down.  They…We are all your friends and do not place any blame for anything on you.  It is only that there is much concern for how troubled you may be with what feelings you have.  They worry for you Tyrell…”
    He could hear the wisdom in her words, see it in her eyes and feel it in her touch.  His heart rested.  This Cleric of Habbuku continued to impress him; he found that this was one of her qualities he so dearly cherished.  He was lost for words; he had no response or argument to offer so he simply pursed his lips together and gave her a slight nod of understanding.  
    “Tieyarkiel…The council and King Eldamire await you and the Lady Galedian.”  A voice came from atop the steps breaking the silence between them.  Tyrell cleared his throat with a cough, “Of course…we do not intend on keeping them”.  Tyrell answered politely as he and Galedian turned from one another and began the climb hand in hand.  Galedian’s eyes lingered on the well-chiseled features of the knight in search of a clue to his thoughts only for a few moments as they made their way to the doors before she turned and greeted the guard with a smile that shined from her eyes as well as her beautiful mouth.  
    The council was busy with chitchat of various sorts.  Some of the Elves spoke of recent achievements of honored family members and friends.  Others speculated and shared thoughts on the news at hand.  The Dwarves were caught up in tales of battle and personal praise.  They were completely oblivious to the noise around them, so when the elves and humans fell silent as Tyrell and Galedian approached the conference table, the thunderous voices of the Dwarves could be heard by all.  Heavy eyes from several of the council members fell upon the dwarves engrossed in their wild stories in a silent protest for their silence.  As if all at once, the burly storytellers stopped their ranting as if they could feel the stares upon them and the stillness in the room.
    Eldamire seized the moment to gain control of everyone’s attention.  “I take it all those who were invited are now present.” He said as he looked around the room.  He gave the two late arrivals a nod as they took their seats and joined the others at the table.  “As you all are aware we have new information that leaves no room for argument… WAR is upon us.  Narsh-Turath was just a battle, an important win for us, sure, but also just the beginning of what is inevitable.” His words were strong and his tone certain and serious.
    He paused for just a moment looking to each seat at the table to insure he had their full attention.  “Now there is much to discuss and there is much to be told and heard, so keep in mind that we must be patient, we must respect one another and we must set our differences aside.  Today we are all friends, today we set at this table as one.”  Eldamire raised his brows high and his eyes hardened in a taunt for anyone to challenge or rebuke his words, but none dared to do so.
    Satisfied the king placed his hands upon the tabletop and directed his first question, “What news Tyrell have you brought back from your recent travels to aide the Tierylags tribesmen?”, then he took his seat.  Tyrell took the Elven Kings gesture and raised himself to his feet.
    “Strange mischief is afoot near dragons Gorge.  Trogs have ventured from their homes in the depths of the earth.  We fought many of them and pushed them back to the gorge were they took retreat.  Something even more peculiar, is that they fought alongside Orcan chieftains that led small groups of goblins and orcs alike.  This is unnatural I assure you.”  The large knight scanned the room for anyone who had a response or question.  
    From his side Galedian shifted in her seat feeling that he was purposely leaving something unsaid.  Tyrell noticed her discomfort and cast her a disapproving glance. Then he weighed what he was about to say next very carefully before he spoke, “Also we discovered that Istar had been there prior to our arrival and was well on his way to Dagger port.”  Tyrell’s eyes shifted as many of the council began to fidget in their seats.  “I do not pretend to know what any of this means only that it has importance somehow”. He then slid back into his seat having said all he needed.
    Hauken Moonspur seized the opportunity to speak next, as he stood to his feat his eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened, “My men have pressed hard to secure the tower of Narsh-Turath.  A task that has been made difficult, as refugees from farms and villages have come to us for protection and aide….I have sent horsemen out for this reason and they have suffered injury and loss.  Our provisions will not last the week I fear, and medicine is needed greatly.”  His voice resounded with the seriousness of their situation as he continued.  “I ask of you my Elven friends for this aide.  I fear if we fall under attack in this condition…we may not hold the tower…”
    “We will send what provisions we can spare and some Archers for security.  I can only afford one cleric, but word shall be sent to Father Drindell at the Temple of Habbuku this night for more healers.”  King Eldamire answered then with a slight nod he added, “Make a list ready of the goods you require and give them to Ginyam.  He will insure it is filled to the best of our abilities.”  He turned his attention to the Elf to his immediate left to make certain his words were clear and respected.  Ginyam gave him a single nod that he understood in return.
    “Zimnefin”, Eldamire directed, “What have your scouts and spies discovered?”  The elf, being all too familiar with the Elven council as one of its current members stayed seated as he began to share his findings.  “My scouts have seen and tracked several different groups of draconian’s moving very near the gorge as well as Trogs.”
    At the mentioning of the mutant dragon like creatures Galedian’s blood chilled as she remembered the beasts, Tyrell scooted his chair back and questioned the claim.  “Draconian’s, are you sure?”  His tone filled with alarm and his eyes hooded with shadows of the grave.
    “Yes, there is no mistaking the creatures for any other, an…” Zimnefin was cut short by Tyrell’s next question.
    “How many Zimn?  Do you know from where they come?”  Tyrell’s concerns were definite in his voice and expression.  Zimn did not take his friends interruption as being rude, for he knew of Tyrell’s numerous encounters with the perverse creatures, and he above all understood the dangerous threat of their presence.  Therefore, the elf let the interruption go unchecked and answered the best he could.  
    “Their numbers…uncertain, from what was seen at least twelve.  It is still unknown as to where they are from or where they have disappeared, but my scouts will find out.  We believe there is an army of them already…somewhere, and that more are being created even now.  Our evidence comes from my spies.  They have learned of a dark mage in Dagger port having dealings with several other mages of the dark order and that financial exchanges have been large as well as his frequent travels.  It has also been confirmed that large payments made in platinum from Braxon Reinhold have been exchanged for the mages services.”
    The council members stirred with the disturbing news.  Whispers began to fill the silence with muffled tones.  “Braxon Reinhold has been defeated though, the demon…slain by Tieyarkiel…The horde pushed to the Black mountains and scattered to the winds.  What worry is there truly, surely a mere mage could not have the resources to launch an army?”  Rowin Springwood, third eldest of the Elven council, spoke out.
    “No….Braxon did not fall,” Hauken Moonspur, human friend to the elves, replied with both gloom and shame on the edge of his voice.  “My half brother did indeed lead his army deep into the wretched mountains, but that does not mean they did not survive.  It sounds as if he may be pulling the strings and continuing with his former lords plans.”
    “That is speculation, you said your self the dangers of the mountains were far too risky to enter and that only a fool would do so.”  Rowin argued.
    “It would be even more foolish to dismiss the possibility that Braxon is alive with an army at his command.”  Eldamire added to prevent the insinuated insult from starting an argument.  His words were indeed wise and respected and there was no further challenge on the matter.
    “I do not think Reinhold could orchestrate such a complex strategy necessary to carry out plans of a successful war campaign.”  Ginyam Silverglade interjected.  The tall, graceful Elf rose to his feet and glided behind his chair in what seemed one movement.  Slowly he paced as his mind retraced his thoughts.  “ Timmeron, do you recall how clumsy and lost in trying to find order and direction Reinhold was a few years back when he was organizing the search party for the missing heiress?”  Ginyam questioned with a puzzled expression on his face as he tried to remember the girl’s name.
    “Yes…I gave him advice on how to handle the situation and head up an investigation to locate her.  What does this have to do with anything we deal with now?”  Timmeron answered.
    One of the dwarves, impatient, slapped his thick callused hand upon the table, “Th’ worthless human tis possibly dead and most o’ all tis clearly no threat, so why turn this meeting into a roast o’ his abilities.  C’mon lets stick to the business at hand Elf.”  He roared in a deep voice.  Ginyam shot the dwarf a disgusted look for his rude behavior and tone then having collected his self, let it change into a mask that clearly said he would not let the dwarf lure him into similar behavior or tone.  He was after all an Elf and much better than a filthy Dwarf.
    “Let him finish!”  Hauken shouted out to prevent the dwarf from carrying on, as it was their custom.  Tyrell sat calm and collected as he studied the temperament of each and everyone in the room.  He could sense the atmosphere thicken with a slow building intensity that would soon explode into overheated words and threats.
    “Bah- it’s a wonder you humans and Elves get an’thing done!” The dwarf blurted out.
    “You are out of line, remember your place.”  Hauken said in a threatening tone.
    “How can we plan any defense and offensive strategy if’n all yas do is gossip?”  The stubborn Dwarf continued.
    “Enough.” Eldamire ordered softly, but his voice was lost in the crushing tidal wave of insults.
    “How can you stubborn Dwarves even get along with each other long enough to make plans?”  Zimnefin joined in having had his fill of the Dwarves insatiable need to start an argument.  The barrel chest dwarf pushed him self from the table and bounced to his feet.  Anger flashed in his eyes.
    “Why I say enough babble-”
    “Enough is right Bohrin!” Tyrell stood and interrupted the frogy dwarf.  His tone was final, the expression on his face was stern, and the look in his eyes was pleading.  “Do not disgrace yourself, your brethren, Thorin.  Please take your seat and bare some patience my friend.”
    Bohrin pulled his emotions together having been confronted by Tyrell.  It was not that he feared him for indeed they were good friends.  It was out of respect and loyalty.  Not only Bohrin but all the dwarves admired the human that stood before him now.  His honor was deep in his heart and ran true through his veins.  It was for these reasons alone that he cleared his throat and turned to Eldamire with an apology then took his seat.      
    Eldamire approved of Tyrell’s strong leadership qualities and was pleased to see the reaction of all who were present, but this he kept to himself, only Galedian saw the approval in his eyes.  Upon the Dwarfs apology, Tyrell gave Ginyam a slight bow of welcome then gently took his seat at the table returning the floor to the Elf.
    “The point I am trying to make is that I think Braxon is a mere pawn not the mastermind.”  Ginyam stated as he returned to his chair and sat.
    “It is possible that all of the demons plans had been set in motion, the pieces put into play before it was destroyed.  Someone else is simply following through with the master design.”  Hauken spoke out in support of the elf, “It could be Braxon, this mystery mage, or even someone else.” He finished boldly.
    The insinuation that someone else may be in command stirred suspicion among the members of the council.  Again muddled voices swept across the room.  Questions of whom, accusations rose, and the trust amongst the Dwarves, Elves and Humans began to falter.  Tyrell was quick to see the bonds of peace between them all begin to crumble with the new arise of suspicion.  His keen mind raced in search of a means to end this.  At the same time his mind screamed out scenarios of what would happen if the sacred bonds of trust unraveled between them.  Like a rope bridge, balance would suffer as it flipped, and then the smaller windings would give way to the sudden weight.  The bridge would then break away somewhere in the middle loosing a part of itself forever.
    Galedian sensed Tyrell’s alarm; she looked at the worry on his face and understood what was going on.  She turned quickly to her grandfather, King Eldamire, for an answer.  A look of plea washed over her face as she felt her heart tremble at the thought of the alliance dissolving into nothingness out of sheer fear.  Fear of whom to trust and not to trust.  Eldamire’s expression was as though he had expected what was transpiring.  His eyes filled with a fleeing hope as he leaned back into his chair and slightly slumped.
    Galedian’s stomach turned and her eyes moistened though she fought to restrain the tears that came so readily to her bright green eyes.  Suddenly she sprang from her seat in a rush and cried out in a voice that cracked with her despair.  “YOU all are weak.”
    Silence choked the room in such away that the echo of her voice could be heard.  “You give into your fear when you should embrace it, why bother coming together to save our world…we might as well… not fight at all.”
    “Galedian is right!”  Tyrell spoke up, “Let us not forget why we are here.  The fight is no between us but instead knocking down our door.”
    Shame made its way easily into the hearts of some, but others… guilt was hard pressed to be felt.  Eventually all came to recognize what they each had done, yet no apologies were offered.  Eldamire regained his hope as he witnessed the guilt make its way down their throats like a worm to eat heavily on their hearts.  This was a sign that their bond was more than just words of trust, but a bond made strong with friendship.  
    The Elven king rose up and strolled around the room passing behind each of the council members.  As he did, he let his long slender hand lightly rest for a moment the shoulder of each he passed until he came to stand behind Galedian.  Here he stopped placing both hands upon her shoulders.  “The words of our cleric ring true.”  He said in a soft voice.  Although his heart beat with pride for his granddaughter this was not the place to give her praise.  Therefore, he hoped that his symbolic gesture to stand behind here would be enough for now.  
    “It is as we all feared that Draconian’s are once again being created.  So it is clear to me that we need to find this lair and destroy what can be to put a stop to this abomination and spare us some troubled times.”  Eldamire’s voice grew louder as he shared his plan.  “This will be no easy task, especially if one is confronted by the vile creatures.  They are a dangerous sort not to be reckoned with.” He added.
    “I will take this task, for I know well this enemy.”  Tyrell said, boldly and bravely.      Galedian’s heart stopped and sank inside her.  She knew he would offer to take this mission and she feared for him though she had witnessed his victory over five of the beasts it did not give her comfort.  She knew she could not stop him and she also new that she must support him, this pained her most of all.
    “AND I shall go as well!” She blurted out.
    “NO…” Eldamire exclaimed.
    “Buttt-” She began to protest, but was cut short.
    “No this mission is not for you Tyrell…” Eldamire said calmly as he changed his gaze to meet the relieved eyes of Galedian, “Nor you brave cleric.” He added.
    “Sir- I urge you-” Tyrell protested.
     Eldamire held up his hand to stop him and to bid that he hears him out.  “I have other business for you Tyrell.  A mission with much more importance and dangers that will require your expertise in gathering information.”  His tone filled with certainty.
    “Uncover the identity of this Black mage; learn of his involvement and plans.  If I am correct he will lead you to the draconian and may himself be the key to their perverse creation.”  Eldamire became deathly serious, his features hardened like stone.  He knew the potential powers a dark mage had at his disposal, and that there would probably be more than one.  Tyrell was the perfect choice.
    “As for tracking the draconian, we will let Zimnefin’s spies continue to take care of that.  They are to gather as much information as possible without coming into contact with them.  We can not afford such a confrontation.” He said looking directly at Zimnefin to make sure he understood his orders.
    Tyrell nodded his head in agreement as did Zimn.  “Then I will leave for Dagger Port at daybreak.” Tyrell said.
    “With your permission, I will accompany him on this journey.” Galedian offered.  She held her breath expecting to be told no by Tyrell and Eldamire.  She was relieved to see her father Hauken smile and Tyrell’s silence.
    “Of course your skills will prove useful on this mission.  Is there anyone else who would take up this peril?”  Eldamire inquired.
    “Yes” Zimnefin called out.
    “I will be honored to assist knowing my team can handle things without me.”  The elf continued as he shot Tyrell a smile of friendship and old times of fighting together again.  Eldamire did not answer him only he gave a curtly nod of his approval.
    “Very Good.”  Bohrin thundered in his heavy voice.  “We shall return to our home with said news and rally our warriors to begin the march to Narsh-Turath to join forces with Moonspur’s men.  I swear by my beard…We Dwarves will not be left out of this battle.  
    “Very good then.”  Eldamire said, as his almond eyes scanned the room.  “Our business has come to an end this day and you are all invited to my home for dinner.”
    “What of the crystal?”  Rowin questioned suddenly.
    “What pray tell of the Last Legend…?  More misinterpretations of the Book of Aleron?”  He sneered in an unpleasant tone.  
    Everyone in the room cast their eyes to fall upon Tyrell.  The knight was aware they all knew of his inability to fit the three pieces together especially since one of those pieces was in the hilt of one of his swords.  He was lost for words, for none he had would put them to rest or give them ease or comfort.  He had no answer for them that would inspire reassurance that the mystery of Aleron’s prophecy had been unraveled.  All he could do was keep his confident composure and tell them the truth.
    “I have no new news to offer on the matter.  Glamndria is hard at work, as well as myself and others to discover the secrete to this riddle.  We know now that there are in fact three shards of the crystal, not two, and they are in my possession.  We hope to find the White mage Istar…perhaps he may have some light to shine or ideas to offer.”  Tyrell replied.
 All but Rowin seemed content with his answer and each gave some sort of signal, such as a slight nod of the head, a half smile or simply sliding from their seats to stand that they were ready to adjourn. Rowin, on the other hand, crossed his arms over his chest as he contained his composure.
    As every one casually exited back into the soft light of the warming sun, Galedian paused a moment for one last look at the remarkable statuary and hand carved railings.  The chapel was indeed the most beautiful place she had ever seen. Suddenly her sight caught that of Tyrell bidding leave of Eldamire and her father.  At first, this seemed a normal transaction, but then she noticed the way Tyrell averted his eyes from the kings and cast them to the floor.  This was unusual behavior from Tyrell to show emotion in such a fashion that he then slowly wiped the back of his hand across his brow then shook his head.
 His gaze met hers and held it from across the room, yet his look remained solemn and he did not give her the ever so desired smile he so often did.  Tyrell lifted his feet with a heavy heart as he made his way slowly to where his lovely wife awaited him puzzled by what she had seen.  She signaled with her eyes to look behind him as he neared her side.  With a subtle turn of his head, he saw Rowin detain Eldamire in a serious conversation.
    “What do you think he wants?”  Galedian asked Tyrell under her breath.
    “He probably wants the duty of solving the mysteries of the shard.”  He answered, then turned to face her, “Do not fret about it, Rowin is a good man, he means well.”  He smiled at her, “Besides, the shards will not leave my protection.  I fear evil will come for whoever has them.”  Those words sharpened his smile as a light flashed across his eyes.
    “Of course, and who better for evil to seek out and find…right” Galedian stated with a cold humor.  She knew with out question that there was no safer place for the shards to be than with Tyrell.  Unfortunately it is no others responsibility or burden to carry.  She thought to herself.  Her love for him did not undermine her faith, her trust in him…it only made her heart ache…ache for him.
    As Tyrell sat in his most favorite chair carved of mahogany by his own two hands, his thoughts pondered deep on the news Eldamire had given to him after the meeting.  He stared out a large round window at the crimson light that melted into the lavender shades of the heavily wooded forest of ancient memories.  He had come to know so much over his time here.  “Three hundred years of life is a lot of friends.”  He whispered, under his breath.  Odin, who lay in the floor at his feet, cocked an ear to the sound of Tyrell’s voice, and one eye cracked open ever so slightly to see what was amiss.
    Galedian having finished preparing for the dinner had been standing in the hall just out side of their room for some time watching her beloved knight struggle with his thoughts.  Upon hearing his words, she leaned against the wall and pressed her cheek to her hand.  “Habbuku, he is so strong…What can I do to help ease him?”  She mumbled in a hushed prayer.  As if the answer came to her, she quietly approached him offering her hand.  Tyrell reached out, took her hand in his gently, and turned his gaze to meet hers.
He could see her question in the green of her eyes, and the worry in their depths.  
    He swallowed hard to moisten his dry throat and giving her hand a slight squeeze, he answered her unspoken question.  “Thorin’s father, Dwarven King of the Mountain, has passed into his place among the stars.”
    Though Galedian did not know him personally as did Tyrell, her breath hung in her chest.  She completely understood now some of his turmoil.  She felt for her love but she hurt with sorrow for her friend Thorin’s loss.  She returned his squeeze of the hand and gave him a strong smile.  “We will see Thorin soon enough.” was all she could say to comfort him.
    Odin pushed himself up to his haunches and added his thoughts.  “I’m sure Thorin will be fine, though I don’t know if it is because his heart is strong, or if it’s because he is a stubborn Dwarf.”  His voice carried concern not sarcasm, and Tyrell let slip a slight chuckle.
    “Perhaps a little of both ol’ friend.”  Tyrell replied with a lighter heart.  “C’mon let us join the feast and fill our bellies before we journey tomorrow.”  He coxed his wife and his wolf friend to follow.  
    “Yes let’s eat well, it will be the best meal we have for a while.”  Galedian added having not yet come accustomed to the light meals the road has to offer.
 

Reviews

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"Eldamire regained his hope as he witnessed the guilt make its way down their throats like a worm to eat heavily on their hearts. This was a sign that their bond was more than just words of trust, but a bond made strong with friendship." Excellent write. .. Pammy