Orator

Aedric's group encounters the angry Faesidhe Elves.

46.

Orator

 

All around them, Faesidhe Elves were running in a panic.   Aedric had his forces spread out to find defensive positions.  They had no idea how many of the diehard rebels remained in the Clearing of the Ages, but it was certain that they would not leave it unguarded.

 

In the center of the clearing lay the huge mass of the Great Faesidhe Tree.   It had smashed a number of Faesidhe homes when it had fallen and the Elves were still sorting through the debris.

 

“Carn, play something that would be familiar to them, yet calming.”  Aedric called to the Bugbear.    Immediately he began strumming the lute.   It was a winter tune, ‘The Cold Stars’ that the Faesidhe sang during the Winter Solstice.   It was a time of family and reflection of ancient times for the Faesidhe.   Aedric hoped they could hear it over the shouts of alarm sounding through the Clearing.

“This could get ugly.”   Linel warned as he pointed toward the royal barracks.     After Westmark’s invasion, the barracks had housed soldiers loyal to Northmarch, but it was plain that those streaming out of the building were rebels.

“Remember, we’re here to put this rebellion down, not to slaughter them.”   Aedric reminded them, “I’ll try to reason with them, but if they attack, do not hesitate to kill, for they will do the same.”

Mathlyn was already chanting a spell and beckoned for her grandson to come to her.   She touched his mouth with the palm of her hand, “It is an ‘Amplify’ spell, speak now and your voice will be heard throughout the clearing.”

The Faesidhe rebel soldiers were stringing their bows and others were now assembling at the edge of the clearing, carrying weapons or preparing to chant spells.

Aedric knew he had to make his words count, or there would be a terrible fight.   With a silent prayer to Yesh for guidance, he spoke.

 

“Is your love for a fallen tree greater than knowledge of the history of your people?”   Aedric’s voice boomed throughout the clearing and for a moment the rebels paused in their offensive maneuvers.  

Hoping that he had their attention a bit longer, he quickly continued, “Did not Nitthum and Baella flee from The Grey Home due to persecution and find a home in The Vale of Harps?   When war threatened them, did not Baella lead them out of that valley into this very clearing?   Baella - who is my ancestor- treated the Inion Sidhe fairly and received one of the first pieces of White Fruit, though it was not enough to keep her from dying.”

“Yet her son Celathon - also my ancestor- did not treat them justly and it was his outlook toward all other Elven or Fae races that fuels your hatred and mistrust of us today.”

“Even I felt hatred toward the Drow of Westmark for what I perceived was an unjust invasion of my father’s kingdom.    Yet when I learned the truth about my father’s evil, and freed myself of the prejudice and fear, I learned that there are good and noble members of all races, including the Drow, as well as evil and vile members of these same races, including the Faesidhe.”

“Ask yourself as you chant your spells and string your bows to attack us; has the reign of the Duke and Duchess Dullerm brought you any misfortune or harm to your home?    If you were honest about it, you would think of none, until the destruction of the Faesidhe Tree.   Yet even this would have come whether the Faesidhe ruled their own affairs or not.”

“Forces are gathering which will wipe all races of Elves from the face of this world.   You have had a Faesidhe Governor and no taxes or tributes levied upon you, under the reign of the Dullerms.    They did not demand anything from you but peace and to safely move through the forest.”

“You could not allow this, though.    Rebels have continually harassed those seeking a peaceful existence under Dullerm’s rule.   Do you not know that Duke Eleazar and Duchess Aurei could have ordered the annihilation of your race?    How long could you have hid in the deepest parts of this forest with everyone seeking to kill you?”

“You know they did not do this though, but instead respected your forest and allowed your own people to govern themselves.    Do you think that the Southern Empire’s emperor will allow that for you?   He will not, and he would rather torch this great forest than let even one of you live!   His army is preparing to march northwest and if he takes Westmark - which has treated you fairly- you will have to deal with them directly.”

“What will you say to those who seek to kill all non-humans?    Are your soldiers numerous enough to defeat the tens of thousands of legionnaires in the Southern Empire’s army?  Do you think they will accept a truce?   You have only two choices left to you - submit to the fair rule of Westmark or defy everyone and hope to fend all your enemies off - and protect the clearing of your sacred tree.  A tree which is now dead!”

 

As soon as he had proclaimed this, a Faesidhe arrow hit Aedric in the lower neck.   He fell backwards, clutching at his throat as now other arrows were released at them.   Four Sylvan archers found his assailant in the growing crowd of angry rebels, and killed him with arrows in the belly, leg, and two in the heart.

Snoe was at his side before he had hit the snowy ground.   In her terror of his injury, she pulled the shaft out before Mattleos or Nansea could stop her.   Blood spurted from the wound, but before any of them could offer any assistance, Aedric touched the wound and gurgled out the words of healing.   Thankfully Yesh allowed the power to flow and his throat wound stopped bleeding, though he was certainly done speaking until a more proper healing could occur.

As the arrows fell among them, Mathlyn began chanting a spell, at the same time that Carn began singing his own incantation.

The Inion Sidhe woman finished first, creating what looked like a ring of water around those in proximity to her.   The water wall stood about twice the size of a man and probably ten feet thick.   

All of Aedric’s ‘command group’ (as he thought of them) and about 20 of the Sylvan archers were inside the ring, while those of their forces on the outside took defensive positions against the Faesidhe archers.

“It is a Water Wall spell.” She told those kneeling around Aedric, “It will not stop arrows, but those shot into it will pass through enough water that they will lose most of their momentum and not reach us.”

“Can it be passed through on foot?”   Amala asked, with her swords in her hands.

“Yes, but they will have to swim through the wall to reach the other side.   It will slow them down while the spell lasts.”

They glanced at the circular wall of water surrounding them.   Several arrows were shot into the wall and slowed down, then fell off onto the ground on the other side, devoid of any momentum.

At that moment, Carn finished his spell, touched his own lips and began speaking to the Faesidhe, his voice amplified as Aedric’s voice had been.

“You are quick to strike down those that say something to you that you don’t like to hear.   Has he not told you the truth?    Time and time again your people have faced the wrath of God to pay for your greed and pride.    You killed most of the Inion Sidhe and oppressed all the other races of Elves.   You kept them, and all the intelligent races, from accessing the tree that had been given to all people for the healing of the people.”

“You have even turned on your own.    Your Kings and Queens have preached hatred and seclusion and persecuted your neighbors.    The Great Tree, you made your own and you turned from worshiping God to worshiping that enchanted tree.”

“Then you lament and wonder when fate catches up with you.   Yet even after this, God gave you merciful and fair rulers.   Do you not know that Duke Eleazar is the beloved son of Sialia Fannithal?  It is her son that has ruled you these past years, and he has treated you with great kindness.   Yet you blame him for all of your woes and for the destruction of the Great Tree.”

“It is the judgment of God that has befallen you!  Turn from your arrogance and your anger and embrace reason.   How many of your people do you think will survive the coming of the legions of the Southern Empire?   If they set this forest to the torch - as they did to the Grey Home, centuries ago- where will you then flee?”

“Duke Eleazar -Sialia’s son- attempts to fight these legions.   Divided, you and he shall certainly fail.   Unite and they can be defeated.   Will it be said, years hence, that pride destroyed all of the Faesidhe, and madness led to the downfall of all Elven races?”

 

Carn began to strum his Lute, hoping to change their animosity with the magic of song.   However, the Faesidhe wizards had other ideas.    Three of them rushed forward, understanding that the Sylvan archers would also be restricted by the Water Wall spell and would not be able to stop them.   But they did not enter into the wall of water; instead they each joined their hands, holding their staves over their heads with their free hands.    They chanted something in union.

“That’s a Silence sp-“ Mathlyn’s warning was cut off as suddenly the area surrounded by the Water Wall spell fell completely silent.  

Outside of the Water Wall barrier, one of the wizards touched his staff to the wall, followed by the second and finally the third.   All of their staves glowed momentarily with a greenish light and the Water Wall spell dissolved.

In complete quiet, Carn and the others prepared for the coming onslaught of arrows.    All at once, Mathlyn spun to her left and ran quickly past the startled Sylvan archers.    For a horrible moment, Carn thought that fear had taken her and she was fleeing for her life.  

Arrows began to rain down upon them, causing them to cower and protect their heads and torsos.

Several Sylvan archers fell to the ground, killed by arrows through the eye or face.    With them fell Linel Demmet’s younger brother, Bieo.   He had not fully recovered from injuries battling the Faesidhe rebels earlier, and as he had protected his head, a lucky shot struck him at the base of the neck.   Finding an unfortunate gap between the chainmail and his helm, it went deep into his brain and he slid down against his brother.

Linel gave a silent scream of rage and would have charged into the mass of Faesidhe archers, had not his own men pulled him back.

Mattleos was helping Aedric stand as they desperately tried to retreat out of the range of the archers.    But a bolt of energy from one of the three mages hit him squarely in the back, sending both him and Aedric to the ground.   

Before anyone could get to him, he was already getting up, shaken and pale, but still living.

Carn saw a blur of motion to his right and was mortified to see Amala charging the three wizards.   One of the mages pointed his staff at her and the same sort of energy bolt that had sent Mattleos to the ground shot at her.    Carn yelled out a warning that went unheard in the magical silence, but to his bewilderment, the spell impacted her and then seemed to immediately dissipate. 

The wizard that had smugly blasted her with the magic missiles was caught off-guard by her magic resistance and she ran him through before he could react to her approach.

Carn was running now to her aid, and he sensed, without actually seeing, what the other wizards would do.   They’d use a spell in their staves against her, and her resistance to magic might not sustain her this time.

Before he could reach her, one wizard pointed his staff at her and an icy blue light covered her.   This time the spell was not dispelled and she slowed down to the speed of thick flowing molasses.   It was a spell of slowness, which gave the other mage time enough to strike her.

But Carn struck first, using the only thing he could to hit the wizard with:  the Lute.   The instrument shattered against the Faesidhe wizard’s skull cap, but his eyes rolled up in his head and he fell to the ground just as Carn’s momentum carried him out of the area of effect of the Silence spell.

The remaining wizard rammed the butt of his staff into the top of Carn’s leg while yelling, “Sarvith!”

It was the Faesidhe word for paralysis and there was a flash of a rose colored light that dissipated like smoke.   As he fell flat on his face, Carn knew that it was indeed a Paralysis spell that he had used on him.   His body fell back into the zone of the silence spell which was more maddening as he now could not move nor hear what was going on.

But it turned out he didn’t have to.   Amala regained her speed as soon as the second wizard had died and her swords crossed across the last wizard’s chest, killing him.

An arrow lodged in Carn’s right shoulder, then another one in his lower back, piercing his chainmail both times.    He could feel the pain, but he was too rigid with paralysis to react.

Amala was desperately pulling him backwards, toward the others, but his body was so heavy that she wasn’t making much headway.   An arrow bounced off her breastplate and another one grazed her cheek slightly.

But then she stopped pulling him and squatting quickly, she turned his paralyzed head so he could see.   Carn saw it immediately.   Outside of the circle of silence, Queen Mathlyn was walking forward slowly toward the line of rebels.    He knew she’d be killed within seconds, but he could see that she seemed to be yelling or screaming something.   Her mouth was wide open and her face was contorted slightly from the effort.

Then he realized what she was doing.    She was Valmiai’s sister, and both were Inion Sidhe women.    He didn’t know if it was some sort of spell or a natural ability with which they had been created, but she was not so much screaming as she was wailing.

A Banshee’s wail.

He could only see a bit of the enemy line, but the rebels heard her wailing and dropped their weapons to cover their ears, and then sank to the ground dead.

Carn and the others in the circle of silence could not hear a thing, and this kept them unaffected.

 Yet the silence spell faded away as the one who cast it died, and from the sounds of his companions, it was obvious that Mathlyn’s attack had killed all of the Faesidhe.

“Yesh have mercy on our souls!”   Snoe was crying from somewhere nearby.   Carn could still do nothing but breathe and blink his eyes.   He heard Aedric, his voice still harsh from the partially healed throat wound, speaking.

“She had no choice; they would have killed us all.   All the Faesidhe people - those within the sound of her voice- dead!”

“No,”  Mathlyn’s voice came from farther away, but was growing closer as she returned to them, “I can target who is affected by the sound.    I focused on those obstinate Faesidhe who were unmoved by your and Carn’s words and desired to kill us.   Be at peace, children, for only the aggressors have been slain.   The others who I did not target will awaken in several hours with a terrible headache, but alive.”

“That will give us time to take control of the Clearing.” Mattleos commented, "But let us attend to our wounded first.   Aedric, how are you?”

“I’ll be fine " my throat hurts, but by tomorrow I will lay hands upon myself and I imagine I will be complete by then.   Do not worry about me.   Bieo Demmet - he fell to arrows?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”  One of the Sylvan archers answered, “He is dead.”

“What about Carn?”   Aedric asked and they all gathered around him, looking down at his still form.

“What happened to him?”  Aedric asked Amala, who was kneeling at his head.

“A paralysis spell, I’d guess.   One of the Faesidhe wizards used his staff to cast it.”

“That is one of the spells that they commonly put into their staves.”   Aedric told her, “It will last several hours unless a counter spell is cast upon him.”

“I know such a spell.”   Mathlyn revealed, and a moment later she was kneeling beside Carn with a gentle smile on her face, “Don’t fear, Carnithum, you will be restored soon.”

She began chanting the spell and Carn waited eagerly for movement to return to him.

Yet when the spell ended and the glow faded from his body, he was still rigid with immobility.   Those around him waited for a few moments, and then glanced at Mathlyn, who seemed surprised and perplexed. 

“It should have worked.”   She told them, and she glanced closely at him, “There is blood pooled beneath him!”  

“Turn him over… gently!” Nansea instructed, so Mattleos and two Sylvan archers labored to move his great form, but when they had rolled him onto his side, Amala cried out in surprise.

“Arrows!   He’s been shot!”   

They examined his injuries closely and commented on how neither arrow had hit him in a location where he could have been paralyzed.

“I’m not an expert”, Nansea told them, “But I do know enough to tell you that his injuries would be called moderate at the best.    None hit his spine or severed a major muscle group.    They shouldn’t have paralyzed him.”

“They went through chainmail.”  Snoe said, “They were shot from quite a distance and went through good quality chainmail.   Usually, regular arrows won’t penetrate chainmail from that distance.”

“Well, they don’t look like regular arrows to me.” Mattleos commented, “The shaft is an odd color and it looks like something is engraved on it.”

“On an arrow?” Nansea asked in surprise.

“I’ve heard of them.”  Aedric told her, “My father had elite archers that had a quiver of what were called ‘Arrows of Slaying’.   They were enchanted to kill on contact a specific race or type of person, but could only be used on this specific race or person.   For everyone else, it was just a normal arrow.”

“Is this one of them?”   Amala asked the Sylvan King, and Aedric leaned over so he could read the script on the arrow’s shaft.   

“It says, in Faesidhe… Arrow of Slaying… Goblinoids!”

“Goblinoids?”  Amala exclaimed, “Would that include Bugbears?”

“Yes, I would say that includes Bugbears as most believe that they are part of the Goblin race.”

“So he’s going to die?!”   Amala almost shrieked. 

“No; they always kill immediately upon contact with their type.”

“So why isn’t he dead?”   Mattleos asked.

“Because he’s not really a Bugbear.” Mathlyn answered, “He is geised into the form of a Bugbear, but he is an Elf like all of us.    I suspect the magic that enchants the arrow is confused.”

“A spell confused?”   Mattleos said with a snort.

“It is like it is confused.   It was made for a purpose - to kill all Goblinoid races.  Yet the magic is not certain if he is truly a Bugbear or not.    I have heard of spells that conflicted with their enchantment, which, when cast, would almost freeze time until one of the conflicts was removed so the spell effect could be determined.”

“So you are saying that the confusion of the nature of Carn has made the Slayer arrow suspend him in time until it can determine what to do?”   Amala asked.

“Perhaps.   Or maybe it just froze the condition of Carn to the moment when the arrow first struck him.   He was paralyzed then, so it keeps that state going until a resolution is achieved.”

“But if the enchantment ‘decides’ that he is really a Bugbear, then he will die!”   Amala said to Mathlyn and the Inion Sidhe lady took the Drow girl’s hand and squeezed it.

“Yes, but if it decides that Carn is really not a Bugbear, then the Slayer arrow - or arrows--  will only be normal arrows and the paralysis will end.”

“When will the spell make this decision?”  

“Child, I don’t think it can, for the spell follows arcane rules, and until Carn’s unique position is settled, he will be frozen like this.”

Amala made a rather pitiful sound and he felt tears falling on his face.   She was crying!

“How can we help him, Queen Mathlyn?”   She pleaded, her usual tough, tomboyish attitude now completely gone.  As the others spoke, Nansea and Snoe carefully removed the arrows from Carn and bandaged the wounds.

“He is held in this form by a geis.”   Mathlyn said, “Yet his other geises are broken.   So there remains a condition that must be met for him to be freed.” 

“Are you certain that will save him?”   She asked the Inion Sidhe lady.

“Child, I am far from certain of that, but it would follow the logic of arcane magic.   Yet we must determine what condition must be met for him to be set free.   He never shared this condition to any of you?”

“No.”  Amala replied, “Not even to Mutt.   I don’t think he could - he said that the geis’ condition prevented him from telling anyone.”

“Ah!  Now we are getting someplace.”  Mathlyn said, pleased, “If he could not tell anyone what would remove his curse of his Bugbear shape, then it obviously was not something he could achieve himself.   Therefore, the condition must be met by someone - or something- else.”

“Wouldn’t the demon’s destruction have ended all of the curses upon him?”  Mattleos asked.

“Yes, unless his Bugbear form was placed upon him with conditions that did not depend on the demon’s existence to function.   So we must ask ourselves this:   Why did Celathon have this curse placed upon him?”

“To alienate him from the Faesidhe people.”  Snoe quickly answered.

“Yes,” Her sister agreed, “But more than just that.   I think Celathon was alienating him from his sister, Sialia.   He knew that she loved Carn… and he loved her as well.”

“So Celathon cursed him with a form that he personally found so repulsive that he knew the Faesidhe people - and Sialia- could not accept.”   Mathlyn theorized.

“I know how the Faesidhe nobility think.”  Aedric added hoarsely, “They believe in extracting justice in a way that will rub salt in the wound.    If he geised Carn with the brutish Bugbear state, he probably lied to him and told him that killing the demon would free him, as this would seem nearly impossible to do.”

“But if he was jealous of Carn’s popularity with his sister, he may have put an impossible task for her to complete as the other way to remove the geis.   He would make it difficult for her to achieve, or maybe she would have been unwilling to do it.   Either way, this would have been poetic justice to the King, to give Carn only the smallest glimmer of hope, but to see it fade.”

“Perhaps it was to simply locate Carn?”  Nansea speculated.

“No”, Aedric disagreed, “He lied to Sialia and said that Carn had been taken prisoner in a Drow raid.    He didn’t want to endanger his sister’s life.   She didn’t know he was a Bugbear, and he couldn’t tell her who he was, if she did ever come in contact with him.    So perhaps the geis was that she had to guess his true identity without anyone telling her?”

“I don’t think so”, Mathlyn said, staring at Carn’s eyes, “Sialia is dead, yet Carn acts as if the geis is still in effect.    Perhaps it was for one of her descendants to figure out who he was without any clues.”

“Well, that can’t be it, because after the demon was defeated, he admitted who he was - more or less- to my father.”   Amala said, “And we all know now who he really is, so we couldn’t fulfill the conditions.   So why would he tell us, if that was the condition?”

“It has something to do with Sialia.”  Snoe said, “And with us.   She only bore our father, so Sialia had no other children or descendants.    Yet the demon was dispelled when he attacked Gamel.    We were able to counter that geis, so we should be able to counter the other one.”

Amala stood up, looking both nervous and somber at the same time, “I think I know what it is.   I’ve known for a while, actually, but have forced myself not to think deeply about it.  Sialia loved Carn, but never told him.   I think the condition was that Sialia - or one of her descendants- had to express love for him, while he was still in the form of a Bugbear, without knowing who he truly was.”

“But if that is the case, then we can’t help him now, because we know who he really is!”    Snoe exclaimed.

“I know.”  Amala had tears in her eyes and she knelt down and stroked Carn’s cheek.

“I am so sorry, Carn.”  She whispered to him, though everyone heard her words, “If that is actually the way to defeat the curse, then we’ve failed you.    At first I thought I had figured it out.   I had thought that it was like one of those children’s tales about princesses and frogs.   I thought the curse was simply that you had to be kissed by a princess - or maybe just one of Sialia’s descendants- for the geis to end.”

“I planned on doing that for you one day soon, when you had grown comfortable and confident of yourself as a person again.    It was arrogant of me to hold back the possibility of such healing from you.    I see now that this would have been something too simple to defeat.   So the demon had to make it something more impossible.”

“With your kindness and gentle charm, you could have easily won sympathy from a noblewoman.    You could have found a way to manipulate one of us to kiss you out of sympathy or appreciation for something you did.   Mazzikim’ruhin knew this, didn’t he?   Instead, you had to secure the love of one of Sialia’s descendants, without them knowing before hand who you really were!”

“That’s it, isn’t it?  Only then would the kiss have worked!   But we all know who you truly are, Carn!   What can I do?”   Amala wept, the tears dropping on Carn’s cheek.

“I’ve always been like you, Carn; awkward and feeling like I never fit in.   When you were so kind and helpful to me in the aftermath of my own cursed state, I was surprised to find that I felt very much a kindred spirit with you.    You understood and really cared.   You were gentle and you were there to be my friend, without me returning anything to you except difficulties and my hard nose attitude.”

“The more I got to know you, the more I liked you, Carn.   You still surprise me and amaze me.   I found myself excited to be around you and to learn more about you.   Now that I found out who you really are, I am even more fascinated.    I have never had someone I felt like I could trust -aside from my family- and someone I could talk to as a friend.    Now I feel that I have you as a friend and a mentor.”

“I know that it is too late to tell you this, for obviously everyone knows who you really are, but… I…I… well, I love you, Carn -as a friend, I mean!”   She leaned over and kissed his cheek, sniffling back tears.

To their surprise, there was a flash of the same rose colored light as when the Faesidhe wizard had touched him with his magic staff.   The light faded away like a puff of smoke.

“What happened?”  Aedric asked, looking closely at Carn.   Nothing had changed - he still was paralyzed and still had the brutish form of a Bugbear.

“That is good, actually!”  Mathlyn said, “It is the paralysis spell reactivating.”

“Reactivating?    How could that be good, Amilyo?”  Nansea wondered.

“This happens when one of the conditions that are blocking the spell from working is met.    Apparently, Amala’s affection for Carn settled the conflict.”

“But he’s still a Bugbear in form, so wouldn’t that mean that the Arrow of Slaying should kill him?”   Aedric asked his grandmother.

“Not if it was settled that he was an Elf, and not a Bugbear, to the spell’s satisfaction.”

“Yet he still looks like he did!”   Mattleos commented.

“Yes… I had hoped that would break the geis, but apparently it didn’t.   Still, it is good, I think!   The paralysis spell will move forward and in a few hours, Carn will regain movement again.”

They all were encouraged by this, but Carn could see Amala’s eyes and the look of failure there.   She had hoped to restore his true form with her statement of affection.

He couldn’t condemn her for it.    She had tried, but obviously her affection for him had begun after she knew who he truly was, or else he would have been restored as an Elf again.  

But he could already feel a very gradual, almost minute easing of his rigid state.    He would recover from the spell.   Carn almost felt relief now that there was no need hoping - somehow- to win the love of the girl.   It wouldn’t work now, even if she felt it for him in another way than a friendship sort of love.    At least she’d tried!   Perhaps it was the effect of the unfreezing of the spell, but Carn felt suddenly very sleepy and drifted off into a peaceful, but deep sleep.  

Reviews

[Elina]

"But it turns out he didn’t have to..." I believe "turns" ought to be "turned."
"The more I got to know you, the more I like you, Carn." Because she's speaking in past tense in the beginning of this sentance, "like" ought to be "liked."