Novelas:Ardeth

01 - A Gift From the Sea

Chapter Two - The Flight of Gaia

Ardeth was a king amongst men, a warrior, an Elf-friend and known amongst all races. He was the leader of men in the Great War, and fought beside Sir Edge, the Lord of Men and Sorcerers alike. His skill with the blade better than anyone of the time, his knowledge of things that grew as great as the elf’s and he knew the secrets of The World Beneath more than any Dwarfs save those that were with him. He was the first amongst the men of the Middle Days to look upon sorcerers again and to be accepted by them. And in the ending of his days, became the only person to ever ride upon a unicorn! But this tale was before all of this occurred, this tale speaks of Ardeth, the Arakaynian.

It happened when the world was still young, not long after men had come from the East and North. 1054 T.A was the year, as the people of Guijan reckoned, for it was that long since they had come from the North West, and began keeping records. A great white-cloaked figure flew swiftly upon a serpent-like dragon over a raging sea, with a great storm about him. But his dragon-like beast, with his huge wings and claws were not the only creatures of such size in the storm that night. Far beyond there were other such creatures, though the robed figure could not count how many they were, were attacking the surface of the waters, like huge birds diving for fishes on a raging ocean. Seeing this, he urged the beast he was on to fly even faster, but the wind was against them.One of the great beasts flew down, delayed, and then dived down into the sea, while another came down to the sea’s surface. The cloaked figure raised the great staff he had in his hand and spoke in a language unheard of in this age. And the rain parted along the direction in which he pointed his staff like curtains falling away, the sea became calm and the clouds broke as if in response to the action of the staff, being a great knife that just cut through them, showing the night stars. The cloaked figure then collapsed, and the beast he was on came down, made a turn just above the waters, causing great waves to rise up as if to greet them before circling away. The creature then flew back in the direction it came from faster than the wind, moving just above the now calm water.

About a week later, on a calm sunny day, the children from the village of Arák were playing, as they usually do, upon the shores of the sea. Racing the waves to the shores, building wonderful things in the sand with sticks, or just cooling down under a tree, eating such fruits as they could find.

Arák was a small village north and northwest of Dorar, the main city of the Kingdom of Guijan. Arák did not belong to any of the huge kingdoms of the world, and its peoples pride themselves in that, for they were never involved in wars of the other men, yet Arák’s men were the best huntsmen of the region, and whose skill in this area are rivaled only by their neighbouring village. The villages population was no more than three thousand persons, and was located not far from the sea or Rhorim as they called it in their own tongue, the ‘ever-raging’.

While these children were playing, three of them being: Kari, daughter of Hebalb the Chief, Jama son of Jor, and Jorma, his younger brother, they saw something strange, like a huge dark shape, coming in form the sea. Usually, that is the way of the sea, to bring things unexpected, and more than likely, to take things whenever it wanted. But this caught the children’s gaze so because it was larger than most things they saw coming in from the sea. As it got closer, the children saw that it was a boat, or at least it was shaped like the boats they used, for the people of Arák were boat users and oft sailed upon the many rivers of the region, but the boat’s color was not that of a golden wooden brown, but black, like the hilt of a sword. This unknown figure seemed to be sinking, very little could still be seen above the water. Inside, they thought they saw a movement, like a man, though smaller, tring to steer his way to shore, avoiding the reefs that were no doubt just beyond the edge of the water.

The three Arákaynians ran from under their resting place of the shadow of the tree, to the waters edge. The only strangers that came from the sea were warriors from the northwest, to fight the people of Guijan, and usually, the Arákaynians would not hinder them. But this was one boat, and probably one person inside of it! Surely this was not a person coming to war. Jama, being the oldest and strongest, waded out to reach the boat, for the man inside was in need of assistance. But as he approched the boat, he realized that it was larger than he had previously imagined. Fifty people it could’ve held comfortably, with room for baggage. He tried to pull it ashore, but found that it was impossible to do so! “Ahoy!” He shouted. “Come ashore, Rhorim is shallow here. Be quick, before it swallows you too, along with your vessel.”

No answer came, but after a while, a little boy, about Jama’s age, peeked out. His hair and skin was wet, and wore strange clothing, even unlike those of the people of the northwest, across the sea.

“Will you kill me?” The boy asked. He seemed very cautious. “Of course not, quickly now!”

The other boy then jumped from his boat, landing beside Jama. And even as he landed, his boat was engulfed by a surging of waves behind him, swallowed up by the Rhorim. “I am Jama.” Jama said. “And those are Jorma, my brother, and Miss Kari,” pointing to the two standing on the shore and curiously looking at the boy, “who might you be?”

“I don’t know, …” answered the boy, struggling. He had hit his head, but there was little trace of blood, for the sea had took that too, and seemed to have forgotten everything.

Then, for the first time, Jama looked upon the youth, and saw that,partially visible, beneath his soaking clothes was a medallion. “Perhaps that may tell,” he said pointing to the medallion, “such a thing is only worn by Chiefs and Kings, you may be one, or the son of one, lets see.”

The boy pulled the medallion out from under his shirt. It was made of pure gold. It had a circular shape, and in the center was engraved the picture of a mighty castle, if that was what it was, with may towers and turrets, the one in the center being the tallest, reaching all the way to the skies. Around this castle was the raging sea, as if the castle was an island upon it. They were words upon the top and bottom of the medallion.

“They are words here,” Jama said, “ written in the common tongue, but I cannot tell you what they are…”

They two had already begun walking to shore slowly, while they were talking. Jama was fast and strong, while the other boy lagged behind,seeming weak, for every wave disturbed him. The boy was now looking at the medallion, as if for the first time.

“Here it is written ‘Lord Ardeth O’Atlantia,’ and in the bottom, ‘No powers are there like those of a raging sea.’” The boy said. “I guess I am Ardeth.” Jama turned around. “You can read?”

“I guess so… Why? Can’t you?”

“No, only our Chief’s scribes can, and I guess the kings and wise men of other kingdoms, you are smart, you Ardeth. Ardeth you say? What a peculiar name, but suits you, for in our tongue it means ‘the one who escaped death,’ which it seemeth you did.”

Before Ardeth reached the shore, he fell, his knees were weak, he knew he had not had anything to eat for a while. Jama and his brother took Ardeth to the shades under the tree, and then instructed his brother to run to the village to tell the village elders about Ardeth. Away Jorma ran, for he knew the path very well, and was also very anxious to relate the news.

“You will be safe with us.” Kari said. “My father will see to it that you are well taken care of, and someday I will help you find your kingdom young prince, if that is what you are.” It is with great regret that I say that Kari was not there when Ardeth finally came upon his great kingdom in the end.

None could move as fast in the forests as the Arákaynians could, and with the excitement cursing through Jorma, he ran faster than ever. The leaves and twigs whipped against his face, but he did not care. Occasionally, other Arákaynians in the forests, perhaps others children like himself, or adults hunting, would ask him the reason for his haste. “Rhorim has brought us a gift! Go see!” He would reply, and continue on his way.

It was not after a long time that he came upon his village. It was in a clearing, bordered by tall trees like a huge green wall. The village itself was large, and the houses were made of woods cut from the same trees. In the center of the village was the largest house, the Chief’s, which served as a meeting place when needed. Other houses spread out from here, and even around these were flat lands for farming and hunting training. Very few houses were on the border of the village, though there were other buildings that served as guard huts and protected the village against the numerous wild animals in the vast forests. A very small stream ran beside and through the village before turning north from its westward direction emptying into the sea. This stream came from deeper in the forest, and connects in some larger way to many other streams, one of which is used by the men or Dorar and their transportation route.

Jorma knew where he was going; he wanted to speak to his father, a very respected man in the village, and an advisor to the Chief. He ran straight to the center of the village, and through streets of grass, until he came upon his own home. It was not much larger than the others, and similar in construction, with wooden walls and a thatched roof. It was not very high, and though the people of Arák were not very tall, the tallest could stand comfortably upright under his roof.

Gasping for breath after the long run and with beads of sweat running down his face “Mam!” Jorma cried, “mam!”

“What is it?” A woman came flying through the door, a look of worry on her face. “What is the matter? Where is Jama? Is he hurt?”

“He is ok, he is with Kari. Where is pap? I have things to tell him, we have a guest, and a new friend, where is pap?”

“He is with the Chief in the Great Hall, but take heed, many men came back today from their journeys and the Chief and your father may be busy with them. It is not wise to disturbed the learned from gaining knowledge, as the saying goes. And wherever you go, come back soon, for the afternoon meal will soon be ready!” “Ok, mam!” Answered Jorma, and was off again, continuing down the same road he was running on, to the center of the village.

Into the Great Hall, he ran. The building was the tallest and largest in the village. The hall itself is frequently used to discuss matters, though none more important than the news of the wide world. At the back of this building was an adjoining home, where the Chief and his family lived.

Men were there, as they always are, talking of their travels, for Arakaynian men love to travel, and even loved more the opportunity to tell of his tale. The Chief and other men were listening to them, saying, “Indeed, never have we heard of such things. The men of Guijan are afraid, they think northern folk have something to do with this…”

In the center of the discussions sat Chief Hebalb. He was a short man, like all the people Arák. With dark hair and a round face. He appeared to be plump, wise and learned , though Jorma knew he was also gentle and kind. The Chief wore little clothes different from the others of the village, but also wore a great chain around his neck, a gift some said, from a race of shorter men than the Arakaynians to a previous Chief for acting as an outer defense for their village, though none ever saw them since, everyone thought they had eventually all died from that war they were fighting. A great leader was Chief Hebalb, and that all could see.

On the Chief’s right hand sat Jorma’s father, Jor. A wise man too, he was. He was the only councilor to the Chief. Their two families, Jor’s and the Chief’s, were closely related, Jor was the Chief’s fourth cousin on both their father’s side. Jor was a leaner man than Chief Hebalb, but not much taller. His hair was just as dark, and as long. The only difference was that by Jor’s side was his blade and bow, with a quiver of arrows, for he was also a hunter.

“Father!” Jorma shouted, bursting into the council, seeing his father, “father, come see. We have found someone! A Prince, Kari says. He came from the Rhorim, come see!”

The men looked angry at being disturbed, but the Chief and Jor were calm. At length the Chief then spoke calmly, for he was a kindly man. “Prince you say, where is he now, and what is his name,what kingdom is he the prince of? You bring news young Jor, Jorma is it? Surely you have the answers to these questions” The Chief was apparently in a good mood, and felt like jesting, even in front the large crowd of people present in the chamber.

“Ardeth is his name, and he is from Atlantia, wherever that is.” Jorma answered. The Chief had suspected that the Prince of which they spoke was from the north, and having such a person in their custody would mean that the men north would find a reason to go to war with their village. But Atlantia was not anyplace in the north, as far as the journeys of his villagers have reported. Indeed he never found out where exactly Atlantia was.

“He is with Jama and Kari, next to the Rhorim.” Continued the boy.

“Jor!” The Chief declared. “Jor, let us go see what problems our children have landed us in! All those who want to follow us may come. Men…” He got up, and directed his speech to those he was talking with. “We shall continue this some other time. As great as your news may be, a prince among us is far greater, let us all go see!”

And with that the procession headed out of the Great Hall and down the streets, towards the wall of trees, through which there was an opening, through where a grassed path led to the sea. Many people looked out of their houses to see the large group of people go by with the Chief, and wondered what had happened. Even Jorma’s mother looked out, and when she saw the group led by her son she thought, “why did he not listen. This better be worth the time of all those that go. Jorma will get a sound trashing if it is not so.” Even Jor thought the same, looking at his son proudly leading the group of people. Luckily for Jorma, it was worth it.

In the short while that Jorma was gone, Ardeth had fallen asleep. Jama had gone scouting for fruits in the trees while Kari was left to look upon him. Not long afterwards, Jama came back with a handful of mangoes and any other fruit he could find. Along with him came three younger children of the village who were about in the trees. With Ardeth still asleep, Jama recounted the tale to the young ones, and added a few details, of how he had to swim beyond the reefs to save Ardeth from drowning, and that Ardeth was a prince who could read not only the common speech, but all languages as well. The children looked up at Jama, as well as Ardeth, full of awe.

Presently, the host led by Jorma came into the clearing. “There they are!” Declared Jorma, pointing to the group.

The group of men came up to the sleeping Ardeth, and Kari, Jama and the three smaller children stepped aside, looking from the Chief to Ardeth. “This a prince?” Asked Chief Hebalb, jesting once again. “Arise child!” He called in a loud bellowing voice.

The events that followed were forever made into jokes and told in that village for as long as it endured. Ardeth, though seemingly in a deep sleep, awoke with a rush, forgetting all that had happened. Seeing the face of the Chief above him, he reached for the blade that was sheathed by his side, though none had seen it before, and slashed at the Chief, his blade ringing and polished in the afternoon light. The Chief, who was once a hunter in his youth, in the days when his father was Chief, still had his reflexes, and dodged the blow, or almost, for the tip of the blade scratched his face and left a scar that could still be seen years later, even at the time of the Chiefs death. Ardeth, then seeing what he had done sheathed his sword and moved backwards, falling from the stumps he was on, unto the sand, headfirst.

The men were unsure of what to do, and most drew their swords, while Jor quickly fitted an arrow into his bow and aimed it at Ardeth. Kari and Jama were ready to defend Ardeth, for they knew that the Chief had frightened him. After a while, Hebalb laughed, and everyone put away his weapon, except Jor.

“Startled him, did we?” Hebalb said wiping the blood away from his face, the others laughed. “Get up son!” He said, stretching a hand to pick up the fallen boy. “You have a sharp blade there! I may well want to know where you receive it, and to learn of your name before I judge whether you should repay what you have done.”

“Sorry sir.” Ardeth spoke, getting up, refusing the Chief’s help. “I am Ardeth, of the land of Atlantia, or so it is said here…” And with that, he took out the gold medallion from his shirt and showed it to the Chief. It did not glitter, but seemed very bright in the afternoon sun, all the men around gazed at it, for it seemed wonderful, and they began to accept that this boy was indeed a prince, for none other could own such a thing. Even the Chief knew this, he also realized that it was made of the same material as his own medallion, but he knew that different people made them. The Chief leaned in closer to inspect it, while keeping one hand upon his breast, where his own jewel lied.

“Ardeth. A peculiar name that is, for in the tongue of our forefathers, it meant escaper of death, though we seldom now use that tongue.”

“Escaper of death indeed he is.” Declared Jor, examining the boy. “For you came here from the sea, without fins or wings, and survived. Few are so lucky.”

“But he did not swim, pap!” Chimed in Jama, seeing that his tale of the story might fit in here. The older men turned towards him. “He came by a boat, and a weird one too.” And with that, he told the entire tale of how he rescued Ardeth O’Atlantia, while Ardeth confirmed everything. Kari and Jorma chimed in whenever they felt like.

“We’ll have to find that boat sometime later.” Jor said, looking out to the spot where they described the boat sank. “What material it was made of, I wonder. We might have learnt a lot from it.” Then he turned to Ardeth. “You lost your memory, huh? If you could’ve told us where you kingdom was young prince, the village might have been very thankful with such an ally. Try to remember, what happened before you came here?”

“Ah…” Began Ardeth. “It was dark, like night. And it was raining,there was thunder and lightning, loud and frightening. We were in a boat, me with others whose faces I cannot see, it was too dark. We were trying to get to a city of lights, but that seemed too far. Why we were trying to get there I don’t know, for the boat was not sinking, nor was the raging sea a bother to us. Then I saw it, like a bolt of lightning it came out of the sky, aimed at us. It was a huge winged creature,emitting a smell that was fouler than rotting flesh, it then hit the boat, as if to sink it, touched the water and flew up again. It had friends too, circling high, and every once in a while, one would come down upon us, aimed at me, it seemed then.” Ardeth paused, as if trying to remember. “It is faint, like a dream, but I think one came down again, and someone stood up his back facing me, with his sword gleaming in the night, his long hair flowing in the storm. This person slashed at the creature, which then shrieked, loud and piercing, flapped its great wings, and knocked the man into the sea. It then plunged after the man. I remember looking over the edge of the boat, looking for that brave figure that had saved me, and before I could turn away, another came from the sky hit me on the head, back into the middle of the boat. All slowly got dark, but before that happened, the rain stopped, the clouds cleared and the sea was calmed again. Stars shone brightly, and that lifted my hearts, but none were left in the boat. I remember no more.”

The people looked on at Ardeth with wonder, never have they heard of such things. At length, Jor spoke. “A great tale, but I’m sure it was only a great nightmare, brought on by the sea, it does that sometimes, or so I have heard. Come now Ardeth, you seem tired, let’s get you some rest.”

That was true, Ardeth was tired, but more so, he was hungry and thirsty, for naught he had eaten during his journey aboard his craft. He looked at Jama, who then handed to him the fruits he had picked. “Thank you, kindly.” He said, and began eating them like a man who had never tasted things as sweet. Indeed he never had tasted anything like these fruits, and as sweet as they were, his hunger made them a thousand times sweeter.

The Chief laughed, seeing this, and turned away to talk with Jor, away from the ears of Ardeth or the children.

“So what do you think Jor?” He asked. “We have to give him food, the least.” “Yes we must, we must. Whether he be a prince or not, I don’t think that the warmth of the people of Arák should be less than it always is.”

“You are most certainly correct. But what of where he shall go thither? Should he stay with us? I seek your counsel in this, Jor.”

“What if he is from the north? Us keeping him could call war upon us?” “Or bring peace. No doubt a kingdom would praise us for keeping their heir safe, if that is what he is.”

“Surely.” Jor said, finally putting away the arrow that was still in his hand. “But never-the-less, we have witnessed that he came from a kingdom or warriors, see how well he had used his blade?”

“No more of it, Jor. You said it yourself, prince or not, our warmth should not decrease. He will stay with us, until someone claims him, or he grows up to leave on his own. But he will grow up as one of us.”

“Very well, I will take care of him. If my wife hears that I was so against it, I would not hear the end of it. I will raise him as one of my sons, and he will become an Arakaynian like them, when they do.”

“So be it.” Said the Chief, turning to the crowd, who were now asking Ardeth questions, none of which he answered, whether because either his mouth was full, or because he did not know their answer. “Everyone!” The Chief spoke loudly. “Ardeth O’Atlantia will be welcomed into the village, and will stay amongst us until he is rescued. Jor here has agreed to take him into his home.” Jama and Jorma began to celebrate, for they now have a new friend. “Come along now, Ardeth. Let us show him the way to Arák!”

With that the company set out through the path that Jorma had run through, the same path the Chief and his men came through. Jama, Jorma and Kari were proudly leading Ardeth in front of everyone else, telling him of what they could do together. Upon arrival, a meeting was immediately called for all the people of the village by ringing a huge bell that echoed to the ends of the village. Most of the elders and some children came, and after they seated themselves, the Chief spoke to them, for he wanted to let the other villagers know that Ardeth was now one of them, and none should treat him otherwise.

“Peoples of Arák, listen. In keeping with our village’s principle of hospitality, we have accepted to keep Ardeth here amongst us, as one of us. And none should treat him otherwise, for that would be a crime against my ruling, and the ruling of my court.” He then called Ardeth to step forward, and everyone looked upon him and cheered. “He will stay with us until such time as one of his kindred comes to claim him, of he chooses to leave on his own free will.” “Thank you.” Ardeth said, and bowed. The people were not accustomed to this act of courtesy, but enjoyed it very much.

“Some say that he is a prince.” Continued the Chief. “But whether he is, or not, we can all be sure that great things are in store for him, and thus, in for our small village. From this day forward he will be known as Rhogan, our gift from the sea!” There was more applause.

And so it came to pass that Ardeth O’Atlantia, now Rhogan, came to the village of Arák and was accepted by its peoples, or at least most of them, and live in the house of Jor, amongst Jama, the greatest hope for the Arakaynian huntsmen. He became a popular figure in the village while growing up, and his tale of his arrival was never forgotten. Many used his new name, but none forgot his old, Ardeth, for it reminded them of the great status the boy had probably held.

--Dhabih 16:03, 29 January 2006 (UTC) Chapter Two - The Flight of Gaia

Chapter One - A Gift From the Sea

Gaia was the offspring of Draga, and of the line of the great dragons of the Elder days. He was small in size, still but a young beast not more than a few hundred years old. But his speed, power and pride of the creatures of his race was no less than that of his elders. Standing upright, Gaia was as tall as a giant, his wingspan was greater than any eagle’s. His hide, instead of the rough scaly scab of his ancestors, was softer and he was able to bear men or other creatures upon his back, though his pride would probably not allow this. Also unlike his race, Gaia busied himself with the goings of the world, and would usually be visible flying over forests and seas, being a bearer of news, good or bad.

It was on one of these many travels that he met with the great Leviathan of the sea, a beast who none now nor even then knew or remembered. Gaia was flying and caught a glimpse of the huge creature’s eye just below the surface of the water, as if searching for something. Gaia flew down towards the surface of the water, and even though he was of the race of dragons that grew to towering heights, he was surprised at the size of this new creature that he saw, for the creature’s eye alone, blue like the sea and seeminlgy full of an age-long wisdom, was larger than himself.

“Greetings great Eye.” Said Gaia, cautious of what the creature might be. “I am Gaia son of Draga, the North Wind. What news of the sea?”

The great creature’s eye sank further beneath the surface of the water, and then there came a sound, though nothing could be seen, like a huge roar of thunder but from very far away. “Greetings son of Draga.” The voice was so powerful that Gaia felt insignificant even for one of his race, his pride was humbled. “I am…” But the great beast had no name, and was only referred to as the Great Leviathan, Titan of the Sea. That was in an age forgotten by all that now live, except for the learned few. “I am the Sea, and it is in peril.” The voice replied.

“Of what peril dost thou speak, O Great Sea?” Asked Gaia.

“A great storm is approaching, and I see dark creatures that were not seen for an age. The creatures of the Sea are mortally afraid. Do you know Eriseth? He can help us, or none can.” Spoke the voice.

“Alas, no he cannot!” Said Gaia. “For Eriseth is a Wizard of ages long gone, and none have seen him for eons. But his, and the descendants of his kindred, still live in the great Tower of Eul of Gondland, south of here.”

“Eriseth is no more? What became of him? I fear that I have been asleep for too long a time. Very well, can you, kind Son of the North Wind, give to them this message?”

“It would be an honor, sir, to be the mouth of a creature such as yourself.” Spoke Gaia, and he was correct, although he still did not know what the creature was.

“Tell the descendants of Eriseth this. A great storm is rising, one that will herald a new age into the world, be it light or dark. The creatures of the sea are afraid, evil things move in, about and above it. They are seeking something, but what I do not know.”

“And what could the Wizards do?” Gaia questioned.

“Their duty: to learn. Learn why these new creatures are about, and with this new knowledge stop them.”

“What? Stop What? What is now about?”

“The Guardians, or at least their beasts. They are searching for someone from the land of Arianor from the Elder days. These now reside in Atlantia, the pride of men. Their city was attacked two nights ago, but the Guardians found nothing, the beasts are returning, I see them. They will be upon the vessel that escaped the attack, the vessel that holds that which they must not get. In two nights nigh, they will converge at this spot, and I am yet too weary to hold them off, gather the descendants of Eriseth to help. In two nights!”

Gaia bowed. “May we meet again Great Sea!” And he flew away southwards with haste, not because he understood the words and the need of haste of his mission, but because the Great Leviathan had inspired him greatly with his power and knowledge.

It was on the morn of the next day that Gaia had arrived at the great crater of Mount Fergathd the Furious. He had flown over the sea and land, over the lands of the people of Arák and Luijan, though none saw him for he was so swift. The trees however were aware of his passing and bent,their leaves rustling. The people of Luijan said, “oh, the north wind is passing. A storm must be gathering on the seas.” And those of Arák said, “a great storm is about to come, any caught at Rhorim unawares will suffer.” They did not know how correct their statements were, nor that all that they spoke were to come to pass.

Gaia strode up to the entrance of the cavern, which was nothing but a crack in the cliff wall of the crater with drawings of a staff on either side and an ancient script on top, and he called out. “Great Wizards of Fergathd, hear my call.”

For a long while nothing happened. Then an old man came out of the dark caves, with along gray beard and a grayish-blue robe and a pointed hat with a wooden staff in his hand.

“Greetings strange creature.” The wizard said. “I am Berégan the Blue Wizard, and appointed guardian of The Cavern of Fergathd”

“I am Gaia, son of Draga the North Wind, and I have a message for the descendants of Eriseth, something concerning what the mighty wizard hath done.” The dragon said. “Would you accept and listen?”

“The descendants of Eriseth do not dwell here, Gaia. They are away south, in the Tower of Eul, you know that.”

“I do, but my message and flight would be in vain if I had to take such a long journey. I shall deliver my message to any Wizard with the strength and Wisdom to fight the oncoming war.”

“Then give the message to my leader and councilor for it will be more effective if heard by him. Any message concerning the Mighty Wizard Eriseth is too great for a less learned wizard such as myself. Follow me young Dragon.”

Then Berégan led Gaia into the cave, which was dark and moist, and looked as if none dwelt there. The air was thick and the dragon found it hard to breathe. The path was small, and even though Gaia was a very small dragon, he had to fold his wings neatly behind his back and bow his head to get through. The only thing guiding the two was a bluish-white light that shone forth from the crystal of the Blue Wizard’s staff.

The passage eventually got larger and the Dragon could now walk comfortably. They finally reached a wall of smooth rock, and engraved in the middle of it were the same two staffs and inscriptions as were on the entrance of the cave, though no entrance was seen here. Where the door should have been, the wizard took his staff and while whispering something inaudible to Gaia,tapped softly. And lo, cracks appeared in the smooth walls and it swung open silently like a huge door. “Go!” Instructed Berégan “The Lord awaits.”

The dragon stepped into the new room in the cave, and found that it was not a cave at all. The room was a huge hall, with a very high ceiling. There was a soft glow that enraptured the entire room, where these came from the dragon could not see. It was as if the air itself shone with luminosity. The floor was carpeted and soft and scattered about the hall were statues of creatures and peoples, all lifting up the great ceiling. There was a human warrior with a sword in one hand, while the other held up the roof, another was a great serpent whose strength was so great that it still looked menacing while holding the roof up in one of its many coils. There were also numerous wizards and few dragons, which Gaia wanted to inspect more carefully, though he had not the time. The statues of dragons made Gaia looked small, the largest of these dragons only had the top of his head from the floor to the ceiling of the hall, where Gaia was only as big as one of the creature’s tooth.

In the middle of the hall there was an absence of statues, but there was a huge rectangular table with many chairs around it. Upon the table were piled many books and scrolls and inks and other items that were frequently used by wizards, but none interested Gaia very much. At the head of the table sat an old wizard, very much older than Berégan, and very much more tired. His beard was white, as were his robes, and his white pointed hat sat on the table next to him. Beside his chair, though still firmly in his left hand, was his staff, a long, smooth white rod with the tip that ressembled a man, or wizard’s, hand. Within the grasp of the metal hand was a softly glowing white crystal.

This great wizard glaced up from the scrolls he was reading and looked at the dragon. “What a small creature you are, young Gaia. Your father Draga would not be dismayed.” The wizard spoke. “Nor would any in your race.”

Gaia felt this a very rude way to greet a guest or messenger, but spoke kindly, for he was cautioned that wizards are very powerful and quick to be angered, especially those who looked very learned. “I am Gaia, Son of Draga.” The dragon said out of mere formality, for the wizard had already spoken his name. “I bring you news from the Great Eye of the Sea.”

“I am Dergathd the White, Wizard of the North, and I know of no Great Eye, young dragon. You are wasting my time. Why did that fool of a wizard let you in? I will deal with him later!”

“The Eye says that he is the Sea. He wanted to speak to Eriseth, but when I informed him that he no longer lives, he told me to give the message to Eriseth’s descendants. Since the message would not serve its purpose had I done so, I brought it here. It concerns the actions of Eriseth, or so I think.”

“Eriseth the Wise? Did this Eye know him? He must be an ancient creature indeed, and yet even I have not learned of him. Tell me, son of Draga, of this Eye’s message, and forgive my prior rudeness, for small matters were not meant to be handled by great minds. But if what you said is true and Eriseth’s actions were involved, then it is a great matter indeed.”

Then Gaia told of all the things the Eye had said, and Dergathd made him describe the Eye very carefully. Dergathd immediately went to another room and came back with numerous books and scrolls, and went through them, while Gaia waited on, for he was instructed to do so.

It was late in the afternoon when Dergathd raised his head from the books. “The Guardians the Eye said? That is a myth long forgotten, or is it legend? These books do not tell.” And he thought for a long time, stroking his beard and rubbing his head. And then a shadow passed over him and he realized something and became worried and scared. “You must bear me Gaia, we have a sea to calm!”

With speed, the two ran out of the hall into the passageway. Berégan was surprised to see them and asked, “What are the news lord? What is the need for haste?”

“A storm is coming! Eriseth’s job was unfinished or incomplete! We should hurry before what he struggled against grows to its old strength!” And with that Dergathd said no more, and continued running out of the cave. Then, Gaia did not understand what was said, but he knew that he had to bear Dergathd, but why and to where?

Outside, Gaia stooped low while Dergathd climbed upon his back, and away they flew. “Faster!” Commanded Dergathd. “Faster! Bear to the point in which the Great Eye was seen!”

Gaia was flying faster than he had ever flown before, and against the north wind. Night came quickly, the second night after Gaia had met with the Eye.

“What storm was the Eye referring to?” Asked Gaia, flapping his great wings.

“I do not know.” Answered the wizard. “But I think he meant a raging storm that affects both nature and the balance of power in the world.” And as he said this he pointed to the north. The were storm clouds were already gathering, and flashes of lightning were seen.

“What does it mean?” Asked the dragon again.

“Dark times, son of Draga.”

“And of Eriseth’s unfinished task? What of that? Was Eriseth not the greatest amongst your race? What foe is there that he could not finish that any now can?”

“Alas, this question I cannot answer.” Began the Wizard. “Lord Eriseth was the greatest amongst us, the greatest of the Arch-mage, the race of White Wizards. His tale none remember in its entirety. But this I recall: He had struggled in the greatest battle, the one fought two ages ago. We recall that he was the instrument for crashing the great Titans of Gág-un. An age ago, he led the army of all the races against the might of the Dark Lord Gorgath himself.

“It is said that after Lord Gorgath’s army was defeated, Eriseth himself went up to Gorgath and the two fought upon the remnants of the tower of Arlar, high in the skies. The sky was red, it was said, mourning the loss of all that perished in that war. Eriseth was there, gloriously on the first unicorn Firmane, glowing with a piercing white light, his wings beautifully beating against the black sky. But Gorgath was on his steed, the black copy of the unicorn that he had wrought. It was made more powerful and stronger than both the Unicorns that were sent to Eriseth for his task.

“The two fought, swords clashing, thunder roaring about and upon them. The rains came, and still they fought. Then Gorgath summoned a great beast, the Titan of his father that was not destroyed. For Gorgath was a wizard in his youth and had the power to summon creatures, which were taught to him by Gág-un himself. The last Titan was a Great Serpent, who spat acid and fire. Its body was huge and on fire, and it also had wings and claws, and red eyes that burns. And while this Titan fought with Eriseth, Gorgath fled. Eriseth eventually slew the Titan, and went flying through the still dark skies in search of Gorgath.

“Gorgath was found, and their battle continued. In air they fought.His body had crumbled and his spirit fled to the stars, but it was not welcomed there, Gorgath was slain. The beast Gorgath rode on, went into hiding, and gave itself the name The Zermane of Gorgath, after his former master and the first unicorn after whose likeness it was made.”

“What became of Zermane? It that the creature that the Eye spoke of?”

“I am not sure, but the Guardians had nothing to do with Zermane. After the last battle of the Tower of Arlar, A great council was summoned. What was said here only one alive knows, or perhaps two. The Wizards of Gondland have the event in scrolls, but they foolishly locked them away. In the council, it is rumored that great things happened that had never, nor will ever happen. Great powers were locked away, and to these powers were assigned Keepers from every race. And each race had a Guardian to protect its Keeper.”

“Then it is these Guardians of which the Eye spoke?”

“Possibly. But these Guardians were good, I wonder what had happened.” And with that the conversation ended.

Very soon the stars were concealed with thunderous clouds and the rain began to fall, lightly at first. As they came to the sea, the rains seem to only trouble the water’s surface, but farther out the sea became wild, with waves reaching to monstrous heights. Gaia flew very high to avoid slamming into great waves, which would prove grave at the speed he was flying at.

Dergathd found it difficult, for the speed at which Gaia was now flying through the cold air, caused the rains to feel like stinging marbles against his face. The wizard’s robes were soaked, he found it hard to keep hold unto the dragon, though that was not necessary for Gaia would not let him fall, but nevertheless he kept a tight hold about his staff, the light of which was now extinguished.

After a while, great creatures of the skies were seen attacking something on the surface of the waters on the horizon. Dergathd saw this and a greater fear fell upon him. “Whatever happens…” spoke Dergathd. “… Do not let the thing that the creatures are attacking to get into their hands, save it at all costs.”

And with that the Wizard pointed his staff at the creatures, freezing them from attacking what they were. But every so often one would break through and attack the boat. For as they got closer the keen eyes of Gaia saw that it was a boat that the creatures were attacking.

“The storm is feeding them, the storm brings fear that feeds them!” Shouted Dergathd, and keeping his staff pointed, spoke some words that calmed the sea and broke the clouds. But this spell had drained him much and he collapsed unto the back of the dragon.

With the storm gone, the creatures fled, but why, Gaia wondered. He thought for a moment, and then turned around. He had decided to place Dergathd ashore and then returned to help the thing, as Dergathd had said, that as in the boat.

On the shore, away from any of the villages of men, Dergathd was placed, still unaware. Gaia flew away back to the boat.

With the boat in sight, Gaia also noticed that one of the creatures were returning. But before the creature had reached the boat, Gaia came upon him, and the two fought, claw against hoofs, wing against wing, dragon against horse.

Yes, the creature was a horse, if he could still be called that. It's huge black wings beat down like great drums, but Gaia’s wings were just as powerful. The horse had a hideous face, with black eyes that shone darker than the night. Its skin was like that of rotting flesh, and every scratch that Gaia made seemed to have no effect, just a wound that would heal itself up. Gaia only wished that none of the other creatures came to help this one.

The dragon first tried to scratch the creature’s neck, but it healed almost immediatly. Gaia was so taken back by that, that the horse hit him with a huge hoof that sent him down inches away from the surface of the water. Flapping his wings, the dragon sprung back up and flew, jaws opened towards the horse. The horse, thinking that the bite was intended for his neck turned sideward, and the dragon got hold of the horse’s wing, biting into the flesh, tearing the thick skin that beat against the air. Gaia tasted the wing, letting go of it instantly, it was poisonous instantly. But now the horse was slowed, for its wing did not heal as easily.

This was the greatest battle to date that Gaia had to face, yet his greatest battles were to come, and these two creatures would once again fight, though in another story. In this battle, Gaia had already won. The horse no longer bothered to fight the dragon, but turned towards the boat, but the dragon stopped him. Again he tried, and again the dragon stopped him.

As they were fighting, the sun began to peer above the horizon in the east. The dark horse looked at the sun and sped away with the torn wing, forgetting both the boat and Gaia. Gaia dared not follow him, for fear of the horse’s numerous companions.

Far away the boat had drifted while the two beasts were fighting, and Gaia now saw that within the boat was a little boy who had seen no more than twelve years of the earth. The dragon quickly made himself invisible, as by the rules stated ages back for dragons pertaining humans. Not much of why this rule was made and when is told in this tale, save this. ‘Dragons were used by powerful men in the ancient days as instruments of war.’ Gaia could not understand how, because humans are a small race of creatures, and never had they played a great part in the development of the earth or its wars.

Gaia then stayed beside the boat, watching for the return of the other creatures, lest they should return. He did not know what to do, and thus guided the boat in the general direction of the area in which he had set Dergathd. But being invisible, dragons are weakened of their physical as well as mental strengths, and little did Gaia know that he was steering the boat towards the human village of Arák.

Three days past before the human in the boat woke. He looked out at the waters moving and let his hand touch it. He then looked up at the cloudless sky,no sign remained that there had been a storm three nights before. The boy then looked at his boat, and for the first time saw that it had a large amount of water, with more coming in, though slowly. He began to dip some out with his bare hands, but that was futile. He then caught sight of a sword that was lay under the water in the boat, picked it up, sheathed it and put it around his waist. He then looked to all horizons, hoping for sight of land, but none there were, not yet. The boy then sat down and slept again, for he was tired.

Gaia now realized what the boy had, the boat was sinking. Taking one of his huge, now invisible claws, he tried his best to keep the boat afloat, a task that became harder with every passing hour.

On the fourth day after the battle of the winged creatures, the green treetops of the land of Dúlan were seen. (Dúlan was the great mass of land where only the northern tip is governed by the Guijan kingdom and where Arák was but a spec.) Gaia knew that the boy aboard was hungry, and that being amongst humans would serve him well. Thus, when he saw the children of Arák playing on the shores, he steered the boat in their direction.

A little boy came up to the boat, and called out. The boy in the boat woke up, stood up, and jumps out. Just then Gaia let the boat go, and it sank below the sea.

Away Gaia flew to the east, where he had set Dergathd four nights ago. And after he was out of the sight of the people of Arák, the made himself visible again.

Upon his arrival, Dergathd was gone. A message was scribbled on the tree where Gaia had placed Dergathd next to.

“Bring the contents of the boat to me, Son of Draga. I am waiting!”

But Gaia did not. Instead he flew off to Fergathd to inform the wizard Dergathd of what he had done.

He again landed in the crater, but this time, Dergathd was at the cave’s entrance.

“What was it?” Dergathd asked. “Was it an amulet? A Ring? Where is it?”

“No, Great Wizard, it was a boy!”

“A boy?” The wizard asked. “So then where is he?”

“With the Arakaynians, north of here.”

“Fool!” Shouted the wizard. And he seemed to grow tall and dark. “Why did you disobey the commandments of a white wizard? Feel my wrath.” And Dergathd raised his staff.

Gaia tried to fly away, but an invisible force help him back. “Release me, wizard! The boy is not yours to keep! Let him go, let me go!”

Then the wizard laughed, and released his hold on the dragon. Away Gaia fled. He did not know that Dergathd thought of a plot to get hold of the boy.

Gaia had thought of telling this tale to the wizards of Gondland. But then thought against it. “If you help a wizard and get such thanks, then I would rather work against them.”

None knew of this tale until the boy, Ardeth, had grown and learnt of it himself.

--Dhabih 16:09, 29 January 2006 (UTC) Chapter Three – The Three Free Villages

The air was still wet, and no light were yet to be seen, for the sun had not yet risen. But outside the room was busy with noises of people hustling about. Inside the room, nothing much could be seen except for two other beds with two boys: Jama and Jorma.

Ardeth got up, he judged that it was nearing dawn, and soon lady Jor would call for them. He walked over to the side of his bed and picked up his sword that he had gotten from the boat. That incident was three years ago, but he remembered every detail of it.

‘Jama, Rhogan, Jorma!’ Lady Jor cried out from outside the room. ‘Get up!’

Almost like a reaction, Jorma got up, as if he heard his mother, even though he was in a deep sleep. Jama got up a while later. ‘Is it time?’ He asked. ‘I suppose.’ Answered Ardeth.

Most of the people of Arák were leaving to go to another village, Shirìsh, a village south and west to where Arák lie. It was the annual after harvest gathering, where merchants of the Free Villages, which include Arák, Shirìsh and Caarb, come together to trade. People also come from all the cities of the Guijan Kingdom and some strangers from places unheard of, to trade. The merchants of Arák had already left a few days ago, and now the peoples desirous of taking part in the market from Arák were getting ready to leave.

The three children went out of the room and ate the little food lady Jor had prepared. Then they went outside of the house. Here, people were already crowding the streets. The boys took the road that went to the creek that ran through Arák.

Here they met Han, a young boy, much like Jama, but a year older. He was already swimming in the creek (for that was how the boys of Arák preferred to bathe). There were also F¬owler and his younger brother Flak.

‘Hi there, Jama.’ Han greeted them. ‘And Rhogan.’

The boys greeted each other.

‘All ready to go?’ Fowler asked them.

‘You would be.’ Answered Han. ‘There would be no limit of things to eat.’ He teased for Fowler was a stout boy, and slow.

‘I sure am.’ Answered Ardeth for he had never been out of Arák for the years he had been there.

‘You would be too, Rhogan.’ Han spoke. ‘Prince, huh!’ Han had despised Ardeth, for before he came, he was the bully and leader amongst the young boys, but Ardeth grew taller than him, and was more skilled in fighting, and Han feared him, though he never let anyone know.

The boys had finished bathing and went and home. They got dressed and packed other pieces of there clothing, for the market was for an entire week. Ardeth took up his sword, for though he knew he would not need it, it seemed a good thing to take with you on a journey. He also wore his medallion wrought of gold for he knew that it was worth more than anything that would be for sale in the market, and he was proud of that. The boys again went outside, but now, there were fewer stairs and there was a red color to the east in the sky.

Jor was waiting outside for them. ‘Hurry, the dawn has begun.’ He led them through streets, in the same direction a lot of other persons were walking. The boys knew exactly where he was taking them, to the boats. The creek they bathed in ran into a river that led out to the sea and came from farther south. It was not a wide river, and it was not deep. The boys could swim in it if they wish, but it was mainly used for transporting between the three villages. At the edge of the river were many boats, made of wood, and only small enough to carry three persons. But there were many of these, enough to carry a small army into battle. Jorma climbed into the one with his mother, into this boat also went Jor. Jama and Ardeth went into another boat.

The boats soon filled up, and the sky became lighter. Ardeth then notice that ahead, the chief was boarding a boat, with him were his wife and Kari.

Kari, seeing Ardeth, ran towards their boat and entered it.

‘Good morning the both of you.’ She greeted them. ‘Could I come with you?’

‘Morning miss Kari.’ Answered Jama, now feeling a little crowded, for he liked that the boat he rode in was empty, except for Ardeth, and thus comfortable. ‘Why…?’

‘Sure you can.’ Answered Ardeth. ‘It was only two of us anyway.’

And so the boats set out. They rode slowly and together. Often the boats were so close that people shared a late breakfast, amongst boats, for those who had not eaten, and many older folks were engaged in conversations.

The sun rose, but that did not affect the people, for often the river was totally shaded by trees that stretched their branches until they interlock overhead like a huge never-ending roof. Not long after the river branched into two directions, one to the southeast and the other southwest. Here, more boats were met from the people coming out of the southeastern branch of the river and joined them. These people were as Jama said, of the Caarb village, and they had traveled since dinner the previous day to reach them. Here the company of boats halted for a while until all was greeted and friendly hellos were said and news exchanged. Then off gain the boats went down the southwestern branch.

This river, Jama explained, was the Shirìsh River, named after the Shirìsh people. Then suddenly, as if separated clearly by some great being, the kind of trees that had surrounded them all ended, and a new kind began. Tall and eerie, and slender they were, and were brown and almost bare of leaves thus provided no shade. Luckily, the sun was not at noonday’s strength yet.

‘Why are these trees so different?’ Ardeth asked. ‘They are frightening to look upon.’

‘They are called the Tarsbis trees. And they are so because it was how they were grown.’ Answered Kari. ‘A well tended garden will have flowers growing undisturbed, and its flowers be large and bright. But here the ground is no more.’ And as she said this Ardeth saw that the bottoms of these trees were below a swamp, an extension of the river they now rode, but full of weed and undergrowth. ‘It was this way since the people of my village came, and will be till the end.’ Kari finished.

At lunch, the boats stopped. They huddled together in close formation, and the people shared amongst themselves whatever food they had. Every one was talking, and it made the Tarsbis trees seem pleasant.

‘So will you row this afternoon?’ Jama asked Ardeth. ‘My arms are tired already.’

‘Ok.’ He answered.

‘The stranger?’ Asked Han, who was in a boat besides them. ‘He know nothing of boats, and would soon sink all of you.’

‘Are you forgetting?’ Asked Jama. ‘That he came from the great Rhorim? In a vessel wrought of metal?’

Han became quiet again.

‘Why does he pick on you so, Rhogan?’ Asked Kari. ‘You are much bigger, though not older, and could beat him in a fight of words or fists.’

‘And that is exactly why he fights.’ Ardeth spoke. ‘For even though I could beat him, I would not try, and he takes advantage of it.’

After lunch, the boats journeyed off again. Ardeth found that he was very skilled in steering the boats. He sometimes steered through the great hosts of boats to the front, then slowed, and goes to the rear, without letting the boat ever touching any other (and this required great skill for the river was not wide and there were many boats close together).

One of the times he was in front, he noticed that the Tarsbis trees ended, and rode even farther ahead of the group, for he disliked the trees. The new trees were green, and the grounds beneath which their roots grow were sturdy and green.

‘Thus ends the Tarsbis forest.’ Said Kari. ‘These trees are from the border of the Lindor forests to the east.’

And as she said this, Ardeth noticed that the trees were thicker on the left, to the east. On the right were scattered trees with far stretching grasslands.

Eventually, the water of the river also changed from its muddy brown to a clear flowing stream. The other boats had not caught up to them yet when they saw that there was a clearing in the forest to the east. There was a broken road here, long forgotten by those who made it, and seldom used. For the people now usually prefer boats than horses. Where the road ended by the side of the river were the remnants of an old bridge, broken and unusable.

‘And what is that road called?’ Ardeth asked, pointing to the road in the east and its continuation in the west.

‘We do not know.’ Answered Kari. ‘None now ever uses it.’

‘Nay, not none.’ Jama spoke, and pointed eastward.

Far up the road, a stranger could clearly be seen riding towards the river upon a horseback. He was heavily clad and was riding with great speed.

‘Well he’s an idiot.’ Jama spoke again. ‘How does he plan on crossing the river?’ ‘Who is he?’ Ardeth asked.

‘I don’t know. He is not of the Caarb village, that’s for sure. He might be a rider of the kingdom of Guijan, they dress like that in times of war.’

It was late afternoon when the group caught up with them, for Jama, Ardeth and Kari had begun eating a snack and the boat was drifting by itself.

‘Fastest rower I’ve seen in a while, Rhogan.’ Greeted Carur, the rower of the front boat of the hosts. ‘Messages will always fall unto hearing ear, and in time, if you carry it.’

‘Thank you, Sir Carur.’ Ardeth answered.

It was just beginning to get dark, and the first stair had appeared when the boats reached Shirìsh. There were many people by the edge of the river ready to greet the guests as they arrived. The Chiefs of Arák and Caarb and their wives got out first, and hey were escorted to their quarters.

When it was their turn, Ardeth Jama and Kari got out of the boat, and took along with them their baggage. Lady Jor was waiting on the bank with Jorma, and a young boy, who Ardeth did not know, was standing besides her.

‘Your tents will be on the south side of the square. Meoc here will direct you. Change and be ready for the opening feast.’ Lady Jor spoke, and then went off southwards. ‘Hi.’ The little boy called Meoc said. ‘Follow me.’

The five, Ardeth, Jama, Kari, Jorma and Meoc, went southwards. Meoc led them through a narrow street that was full of people busying about with baggage and other things from the boats. The street ended in a large open field. In the field were set up many tents and lamps, and in the middle of this were large tables with many chairs. Many people were about setting things down, and moving things.

‘The market square.’ Proclaimed Meoc. ‘But for tonight, the opening feast. I bet you’re excited.’

‘At seeing the many weapons displayed tomorrow for sale, yes.’ Answered Jama.

‘Seeing the many fine clothing and jewelry.’ Answered Kari.

‘Excited in being at the feast.’ Said Jorma.

‘And what about you, Rhogan.’ Asked Meoc.

‘How did you know my name?’ Asked Ardeth.

‘News travel faster than you can imagine.’ He replied. ‘You were found three years ago on the shore?’

‘Yes I was.’

‘Many tales were heard of you, that you carry a sword beyond the making of the Guijan, and a medallion like those worn by our Chiefs.’

‘Really?’

‘Is it true that you are better with the sword than any in our villages? Can I see your sword? Can I see your medallion? Please?’ Meoc begged.

Ardeth looked around people were still busying with what they were doing, and these groups of children were like many others across the square. Ardeth reached to his side and unsheathed his sword. It glimmered faintly in the moonlight.

The sound the sword made caused a few heads to turn, and Ardeth quickly sheathed it. They children now passed among the tables, which were all laden with fine cloth.

‘Your seats will be with you families.’ Meoc instructed.

Farther south they walked until al last they came to a few hastily built houses. Away to their right, the village of Shirìsh stood, much like Arák. Beyond the village stood, high above the hoses and trees, the remnants of a tower, unused. Little of it was seen in the night. Meoc led them to one of the hastily built houses.

‘You will be housed here for the remainder of the market.’ He said to them then led them inside. The house, or tent, was more comfortable than it seemed. It could easily house a small family, and thus four children were no problem. Meoc left them and went away.

‘Assemble when you hear the horn.’ He said before he left.

The four changed into their fine clothes and sat, talking noisily. They had had a light dinner, and already their stomachs growled.

‘You rowed far ahead, Rhogan, the people were worried, especially our Chief.’ Spoke Jorma.

‘Only to get out of those eerie trees.’ Said Ardeth. Then he remembered the horseman, the group of boats would have seen him closer, for by then, he would’ve reached the river.

‘Did the people know who the horseman was?’ Asked Ardeth.

‘What horseman?’ Question Jorma. ‘We saw no horseman.’

The other three looked at each other.

‘There is no other road.’ Said Jama. ‘At least none that I know of.’

‘Nothing to worry about.’ Ardeth spoke after a while. ‘I’m sure, as you had said, that he was a horseman from the Guijan kingdom, he is probably here tonight.’ But Ardeth wished that he did not have to see that rider again, for there was an air or power and menace about him.

‘So, Rhogan.’ Spoke Kari, after a while. ‘This is your first market, it is not?’

‘Yes.’ Answered Ardeth.

‘You will love the things you see.’ Chimed in Jama. ‘The weapons of Caarb are plenty and cheap, and we could buy some.’

‘If dad allows.’ Broke in Jorma.

‘But you’ll love those of Guijan. The weapon makers there are skilled.’ Continued Jama, and then looked at Ardeth’s sword besides him. ‘Though what that Meoc said was right. None of the Guijan swords can compare to yours. You should carry it around, to show off a bit’

‘And let someone steal it?’ questioned Kari.

‘There are thieves here?’ Question Ardeth.

‘Of course. Thousands of people gathered from unknown places, there are sure to be a few thieves and murderers about.’

‘All the more reason to walk with my sword.’ Answered Ardeth.

‘What?’ Questioned Kari.

‘So that I can protect you from these thieves and murderers.’ Answered Ardeth, Kari blushed.

‘The food is great. More than you’ve ever eaten.’ Jorma said, breaking the awkward silence. ‘When will they sound that horn?’

‘Jorma, you will get fat when you’re older.’ Said Kari.

‘How?’ Question Jama. ‘Can’t you see his size? He’ll grow up to be a stick. What say you Rhogan?’

But Ardeth was silent. He was thinking about the tower he had seen earlier. Tall it was, and dark. Yet fair it seemed, and it was calling to Ardeth, and he wanted to go. ‘Where is that tower?’ He asked.

‘The ruins?’ Asked Jama. ‘Half-a-days walk on foot. We could get there and back after exploring everything, before dinner, if we leave early enough.’

‘And we’re allowed to leave?’ Ardeth asked.

‘No one’s stopping us.’ Jama said. ‘I went there before, nothing much to see, except ancient texts and tall stairs to nowhere.’

‘If you’re going, I have to come too.’ Said Kari. ‘I’ve always loved adventures.’

‘No you haven’t.’ Said Jama.

‘Well, you’ll need the grace of a lady in such a dark place.’

‘I have to come too.’ Spoke Jorma. ‘Because, Jama, you know if I don’t, father will find out. None of us knew you went before, you know.’

‘Very well.’ Grunted Jama.

‘It settled then, when could we go?’ Asked Ardeth.

‘Anytime during the week.’ Answered Jama. ‘I’ll get some of the boys I went with the last time. They’re from Shirìsh, at least most of them are. They know the way well. We’ll decide the day tomorrow.’

Ardeth became excited, though he didn’t know why. He loved the tower as he set eyes on it.

Not long after, the horn sound out. It echoed far into the woods and throughout the village. The four went outside, they wondered where they might find their families amid all the people gathering to the square, when, against the current of people came running Meoc. ‘Follow me.’ He said, almost out of breath. ‘I will direct you.’ Then he turned to Kari. ‘I did not know you were the daughter of the Chief of Arák. I was told where you were to sit, then I realized. A wonderful group of guest I have to attend. Both Rhogan the boy from the sea, and Kari, daughter of the Chief of Arák are in it.’

‘Nothing special, I assure you.’ Answered Ardeth. ‘What a horn! It was loud, surely anyone far away could have heard it, and that was not needed.’

‘The horn was not made for gatherings of feasts.’ Answered Meoc. ‘It is one of the three great horns of the Free villages. Arák have one. Have you never heard it?’

‘No.’

‘That horn is in the great hall.’ Spoke Kari.

‘It was used in times of old when war fell upon us. The people of Guijan gave them to us to aid them. Arák would sound the horn if the enemy came from the sea, and Shirìsh, if they came on land. The Caarb will relay the message to Luijan, the guard fortress. And they then relay it to the main city of the Guijan. But war had not happen for a generation, and there is much hope for peace.’

Ardeth was wondering whom the kingdom of Guijan wars with, and hoped that it was not his Kingdom of Atlantia. I am a prince of that Kingdom, he thought. The people of Guijan could kidnap me for ransom from my kingdom. Rumors that I am a prince no doubt reached those parts. I hope that was not the purpose of the rider we saw. I have to be most careful. Just then, he saw Lady Jor, already seated. Jama, Jorma and himself took up their seats while Kari was taken to the head of the same table. After that, Meoc went away, again, on another business.

Ardeth then realized the arrangement of the tables. Three large tables were in the center of the square. The one he sat in was to the west, and had the Chief and councilors of Arák and their families. The other tables to the west, behind Ardeth, sat the other people of Arák. The center table had the Headmen of Shirìsh, while the center table to the east had the Chief and councilors of Caarb. The people of Caarb, who Ardeth recognized because they had come together along the river, were seated farther east, beyond the Caarb head table. To the south of the head tables were empty tables, Ardeth guessed that they were for the people of Shirìsh, when they were ready. To the north was constructed a small stage area, from a wooden platform built a little higher off the ground.

The stairs were all visible, and not a cloud was in the night sky. The moon, though not yet full, cast a bright light over the square, and the lamps the villagers had set up added to its brilliance.

After most of the persons were seated (some now took up the southern tables) the Chief of Shirìsh came with his family (a son and a daughter) and sat at the head of the middle table. One of the men got up from that table, went to the stage, and blew the horn he carried. Again the horn echoed throughout the region.

‘Welcome!’ The man announced. ‘To the village of Shirìsh, and the marketplace of the Three Free Villages.’

The people cheered, for they pride themselves in being free, their own rulers, with no king. ‘Before we begin feasting…’ The announcer began again; there were murmurs from the crowd. ‘…words from the Chiefs of our villages.’

He got down and went back to his seat at the middle table.

Chief Kadgan of the Caarb village first went up. He was similarly built like Chief Hebalb, indeed, most of the peoples of the three villages were. ‘Once again we have gathered to celebrate what we have earned. I have nothing to say except that this long period of absence of wars has enabled Caarb to advance and focus on other more important things.’ He stepped down and there were cheers and applause, especially from the people of Caarb.

Chief Hebalb stood up next. ‘Peace, a word we have longed for, and now we have it. May it be that long it remains with us.’ There were more cheers, and the Chief was about to step down when a figure from the southern table stood up.

He was the same rider that the three had seen riding up the road. He was still clad in his heavy traveling clothes, and was well armed, having a sword by his side, with a bow across his back. But the stranger was old, with a long gray beard, and a walking staff by his side. ‘Great Chief of the Arakaynians, where is this boy that you spoke of? The Prince, you had boasted of at the last opening dinner?’ The stranger asked.

‘Stranger from afar, as you have asked previously, I have brought him with me.’ Chief Hebalb turned to Ardeth. ‘Arise child. This is Ardeth O’Atlantia. Or as I named him, Rhogan.’ Ardeth stood up. The stranger looked at him with piercing eyes and Ardeth quickly sat down. ‘May this market be the best that we’ve ever witnessed.’ Ended Chief Hebalb, and stepped down. Chief of the Shirìsh, Chief Anülad, got up.

‘I welcome all, the Caarbs, the Arakaynians, the peoples of Guijan, and all others from afar.’ As e said this, he stared at the stranger who asked the question, and Ardeth realized that the stranger was not from the Guijan kingdom. ‘Once again I have the honor of welcoming you to the market of our Three Free Villages. And proud indeed I am to say that. Free we are, never troubled by the wars of other men. The Guijan we help, for they are our neighbors. Even so, long it was since war had ever rapped at our doors, and I am grateful. Not since the times of our fathers have we seen blood shed in our villages. And I hope that it will be so for a very long time.

‘Never-the-less.’ He continued. ‘We have a greater host of people from the Guijan Kingdom this year.’ Here he motioned to a host of people on the southern tables, all clothed in traveling wear, but most looked young and stronger, much like warriors.

‘Before we begin the feast, for the first time ever, we shall allow one amongst them willing to share news of good tidings and to declare the feast started.’ Chief Anülad sat down. The host of warriors from Guijan talked amongst themselves, never had they been asked o do such a thing in the Free Villages. Eventually one stood up, their leader.

‘I am Anul, Leader of the warriors of Luijan. Thank you, kind Chief for such an honor. Peace you speak off, and we realized how much you were affected by our wars. We have nothing to say, which all would find as good news. I hope that this is the beginning of what would be a great friendship between our kingdom and you group of villages. I guess that all that is left now is to say that the feast is declared open.’

There were many cheers, and the horn was blown again, lightly this time. Most of the peoples of Shirìsh came forth with trays of food and drinks. These were first given to the head tables first, then to the tables designated for the outsiders. Ardeth had never been to such a feast for all the time he had been in Arák. Never had he gone to a market, and was now disappointed that the only reason he was brought was because the Chief had promised a stranger he would.

They ate, and much too. And there were talks and gaffs, and many people got up from their seats to chat with their friends and people from other villages whom they had come to know well. Ardeth kept a close eye on the stranger, he had not moved, and ate quietly. But always he kept his staff in his hand, even as he ate. Ardeth realized that his staff was of metal, and a stone was on top. The top had a crown-like shape, with spears at the tips of the points of it. Within this crown-like shape was the crystal. Ardeth thought this weird, then accepted that the man had probably come from a wealthy kingdom, or was a lord or prince from where he came.

Ardeth felt for his sword, it was safely by his side. At his table were Jor, The Chief and other high members (who were warriors too) of the Chief’s court. There was no chance that the stranger could attack or try to kidnap him tonight.

Near to the end of the feast, a light entertainment began. There were dances and songs sung, poems were recited. Anyone who felt inclined to do something went unto the stage. Everyone had a great time, and was laughing.

Presently, one of the warriors of Guijan came up to Ardeth. Ardeth realized that it was the leader, Anul of Luijan.

‘Rhogan, beware.’ He whispered into Ardeth’s ear. ‘The stranger has not lifted his eyes off of you. He is of the strange folk we like to call wizards. But wizards are usually wise, and less concerned with men. Do not fight with him. Your might is not match for his magic. Run if he comes near.’

And the stranger went on by. None could tall that he had spoken to Ardeth. The stranger then went to the Chief and spoke of affairs Ardeth could not understand. But the stranger had seen the message delivered, and is face grew red with anger. His staff began to glow softly, eerily. He got up and went away, but to where, Ardeth knew not.

After a while dancing had begun. Kari came up to Ardeth, took him by the hand, and pulled him to dance. Jama went away and after a while came back with a friend of his, a girl, and they too danced.

All thoughts were gone from Ardeth of the wizard. They danced till their feet got weary, and yet danced. As they did most of the tables and chairs were cleared away. Drinks were still plenty.

It was not until about mid-night that the dancing stopped. All was bid to take to their tents. It was difficult for the group to finds theirs had not Meoc come back. He was to camp with them, and give them a tour of the village in the morning, for the market will start in the afternoon (it took a while to clear the arrangements of the feast).

The five stayed up even longer, talking about things real and unreal (or so they thought). It was in the end that Ardeth told them of the wizard and the warning.

‘Long days of peace all the Chiefs had said.’ Spoke Kari at last. ‘How do we not know that it is just a preparation time for a greater war yet to come? And what of this wizard business?’ With that everyone became silent until they all fell asleep, Ardeth the last. Chapter Six – The Fall of Asydia

In all of northern Dúnlan, the Guijan Kingdom is the greatest kingdom of free men. Many cities does this great kingdom have; Dorar or Elvothien, the chief city-capital of Guijan, there are also Luijan, the guard fortress, Annandjan, the city by the sea, and Asydia, the island city. Asydia was the smallest of these cities. But did not reflect the splendor of Guijan any less. It is sited far out in the sea, on an island, north of Annandjan, north-eastwards of the Free Villages. The island is small, and the city takes up much of the island, except for the lone mountain that lies north of the island.

Sulith, is the name of this mountain, and tall it stands. To the south of the island is the city’s dock, where the captain of the city and errand riders often set out with news and tidings, and others dock to bring tidings from their southern kinsmen.

The captain of this city is called Galodan, and a mighty warrior he is. Many soldiers does Captain Galodan have, but few wars have they faced, for the enemies of Guijan lives to the west and north, and if they came by the sea, would not come upon Asydia unless all of the other Guijan cities are destroyed or taken. For this reason, Asydia is always a joyful city, and anyone is allowed to enter the island as they wish.

Most of the Asydians are farmers, and uses the lands north of the city to farm. In older days, it id said that the farmers used to farm on the slopes of the Sulith mountain, and then, the mountainsides were green. Now, farming has become less, and more people of Asydia takes to fishing in the sea all around them, and for this reason, Asydia has more and more boats, probably enough to evacuate the entire city, and this was a good thing, for in their fall, this was of much help.

The fastest of ships takes at least three days to sail from Annandjan to Asydia, and thus, since less people are willing to take this journey, very few now travel between these two cities, and for this reason news and tidings are late or never reach at all.

After Lord Vorlund had gone to the south, and recruited with him eighteen servants as he could find among the orc kin, he rode northward on the great road for two days, and then turned eastward. After a day, he came upon the Tower of Eäron, and still he and his company rode on. Before he reached the Shirìsh village, he turned northwards again, following the road. Great hatred he bore for that village, but his army of orcs was too small to yet assail that village, especially since there were a host of warriors of Guijan in that city.

Onward, Lord Vorlund rode, pausing little, for the orc-kind needed little rest, and he himself was in need of haste. Late in the night, he came upon the river, where the bridge was broken, and there he halted.

‘Long may endure the work of my kinsmen of old.’ He said, and then ordered the orcs to fell such trees as they can to rebuild the broken bridge.

‘High and great, must this bridge be.’ He instructed. ‘So great it should be, that it may endure longer than that of my ancestors. And Broad too, for my armies should be able to easily march over when they are ready to assail the Free Villages.’

Throughout the night, the orcs worked, and it was not until the sunset of the next day that they were finished. A great arched wooden bridge they built, and it was high, strong and broad, but hideous, for orcs cannot fashion anything fair and pleasant. Lord Vorlund named the bridge after himself, and using his staff, inscribed on its rails the words: The Bridge of Vorlund, Lord of the Free World.

In elvish letters were these words carved in, and silver did it glow in the moonlight. The orcs dared not look upon the letters carved by their master, for they hated the elvish letters. After all this had been done, the company rode on again.

Here, one may wonder why Lord Vorlund still held his kinsmen, wizards, in high praise, and why he used the wondrous elvish letters to scribe his name. This is so because there were still a hint of kindness in the dark wizard’s heart, but deep it was, and the acts of Ardeth and the warrior Annul had concealed this away even further. An evil deed it was, maybe, but one that caused Ardeth to understand what he was meant to do. Here, some may hope that Lord Vorlund would give up on assailing the Free Villages, but still he did not know that the treasure he earnestly seek was lost in the sea, and greater burnt his hatred for Ardeth.

Two days after the building of the bridge, Lord Vorlund and his company came upon the village of Caarb, mostly deserted, for all its peoples were on their way back from the great market. He passed through this village, more for his own pleasure, because the village did not run along the path of the great road, but was northward of it. Lord Vorlund took a deviation to rest in this village, and to learn what he can of its ways. But seeing the evil orcs, (the people of the village did not know what they were) they chased Lord Vorlund out of their village, cursing him and his company never to return.

‘But we will return.’ Lord Vorlund said. ‘And we will reward you for you hospitality. For now I declare that this city will be the first to fall.’ At this many people cower for his voice was powerful and strong, and none answered him, or question him.

But before he left the village, Lord Vorlund tried to persuade many of the people there to accompany him on his quest. Few of the evil hearted men joined him, five of them there were, and the remainder of people of the village cursed these too. These five stole the few horses that the Caarb village had, prized beasts they were, for they were given to the Caarb village by the king of Guijan, so that errand riders may swiftly reach their destination. Onward rode Lord Vorlund and his growing army. They had marched southward until the reached the Great Road again, and rode along it, as they did the day before.

For six days they rode along the great road eastwards, then, at the crossroads of the Great Road and the north road of the Guijan, they turned north, heading for Annandjan; the city by the sea.

But before Lord Vorlund turned northwards, he gazed to the east, where the great road continued, and he was lost in thought. The orcs and men looked upon him and wondered what was eastward, beyond the river that they knew was there, but could not see and beyond that, where it is rumored that the Great Road continues. They wondered what could have held the thoughts of a great wizard, but all the while Lord Vorlund said nothing. Then, at length, they rode off northward; Lord Vorlund was still silent.

Another two days they rode, until at last they came upon the gates of the great city of Annandjan as the moon had just began to climb up the great sky.

High was set the gate, and two towers were set at both its sides. Though he could not see them, Lord Vorlund knew that many archers were in these towers, all with their arrows already fitted in their bows, all already taking aim. The gate was locked and few lights were seen in the city, and none from the towers. Most of the people of Annandjan were asleep, and Lord Vorlund knew that what he had planned was well timed.

Lord Vorlund raised his hand, palm outward, as a sign of peace, and dismounted his horse. He walked up to the great gate and tapped it loudly with his staff.

A creaking noise was heard and a part of the gate opened, like a small window, and an old man’s head peered out.

‘Who goes by?’ The man asked peering from inside the gates.

‘I, Lord Vorlund.’ The wizard answered. ‘I seek refuge in your city, if it be only to pass the night.’

‘But you seemed well armed, Lord Vorlund. And the captain of the city will not welcome guests such as yourself, at least not in the middle of the night.’ The old man said again.

‘We mean no harm.’ Lord Vorlund answered. ‘We have come from a great battle with the Free Villages, and my men are tired.’ He lied.

‘Enemies of the Free Villages are enemies of Guijan.’ The gatekeeper answered. ‘And as such, you will never be welcomed in this city.’

‘You will see things have changed,’ Lord Vorlund lied again. ‘The three chiefs have allied against the Guijan kingdom, and of this I bring news. I must speak to your captain.’ Indeed, news that the allies of Guijan had turned against them are great news, news that the captain would want to learn of. Little did the gatekeeper know of the lies that Lord Vorlund had weaved.

At the mention of the betrayal of the Free Villages, some of the men from the Caarb village stirred uneasily in their seats upon their horses, but none said anything. They all knew that if Guijan was to assail the Free Villages, they could not hold back its strength, for Guijan was strong. Few now regretted ever following the wizard, but all knew that they would never be welcomed in their village again.

‘Make swift your news, Lord Vorlund.’ The gatekeeper said, as the gate began to open. ‘And make sure that none of company raises arm, or he will be shot down before he strikes.’

Noisily, did the southern gate of Annandjan open, and the gatekeeper watched as the host marched inside, suspiciously looking at the orcs. If he had looked more carefully, he would have seen that few of the men were from the village Caarb, and would guessed that the Free Villages were not at war with Guijan, but it was dark, and the gatekeeper was old and his sight diminished.

After the company marched through the gates, the gatekeeper closed it behind them. ‘I trust that you know the way to the captain of the city, or do you need a guide?’ The gatekeeper asked.

‘Would a friend not know where to find his comrade?’ Lord Vorlund asked as he looked upon the towers. ‘I need no guide.’

‘Don’t stray.’ The gatekeeper warned, looking at the towers too, and guessing what the wizard had known: that many archers looked over them from the towers. ‘Or you will be shot down.’

‘Hyah!’ Lord Vorlund shouted, paying no heed to the gatekeeper’s last remarks, and off he rode. Silently did the company passed through the city, except for the frequent growl from the orcs. The city had many towers, especially along the main road towards the captain’s halls. And although they looked empty, Lord Vorlund dared not stray off the main road, for fear of being shot by an invisible arrow in the dark night. Near the center of the city, the towers lessened, and they were far spaced, and between then, when no watcher could see, an orc or a man of Caarb would slip off the road, and not to be seen in the darkness, this continued until Lord Vorlund was the only one left, riding along the road.

Instead of heading towards the hall of the captain, the company who strayed away kept going northwards, towards the docks of the city.

Now, most of the city’s inhabitants were asleep, and none saw them, except in sleep, as they passed to the docks. At the docks, there were many towers, but all overlooked the sea, and none saw the company. They stole two ships and into these they packed their weapons and horses, and waited for Lord Vorlund to return, for he had gone to the hall of the captain.

‘Greeting Captain Mihad of Annandjan.’ Said Lord Vorlund, entering the hall of the captain. ‘I bring tidings from the west.’

‘What is your name, news bearer?’ Captain Mihad asked, sitting upon his high seat.

‘I am Lord Vorlund of the wizard folk.’ The wizard answered.

‘Then it was you!’ The captain exclaimed. ‘You visited Dorar. I heard news from my cousin, Annul, that you have visited, and many ill things you have told him. You are no longer welcomed there nor are you welcomed here. Be gone!’

‘Would you not hear of my tidings?’ Asked the wizard.

‘I would not listen to your lies, if my gatekeeper did.’ And with that the captain stepped down from his seat, and drew his sword. The many soldiers in the hall did the same. ‘Do not return, or I’ll have your head.’

With this, Lord Vorlund spun around and was gone. He leapt unto his horse, which was still outside and rode away. But he did not leave from whence he came, he too went northwards, to the docks, and there he met his servants, waiting for him. Unto the two mightiest ships of Annandjan, they set sail, and though many towers overlook the sea, none expect their enemy would be inside the city, and so none realize that the two boats contained enemies of the Guijan kingdom, or that the boats were stolen.

Lord Vorlund and his crew were far, when word came from the hall that the wizard has stolen the captain’s prized vessels, so far away they were that the cannons from the towers, and the arrows from the archers were unable to reach their target. A great cry came up from the towers; the wizard had stolen Sorion and Nion, the two fastest ships of the Guijan kingdom. A great loss has the kingdom suffered.

When the firing from the cannons had stopped, Lord Vorlund ordered that the flags of the Guijan kingdom be lowered from the ships, flags which bore four stars, representing the four cities, and the great scepter of the king along with his sword below the four stars. Then the wizard ordered that new flags be raised, flags bearing the orc blade along with his staff, representing the wizard and his army that he yet has to gather and below that he wrote in the same elvish letters as before, the words: Lord Vorlund, Archmage, Lord of the Free World.

The title Archmage is only given to the greatest wizard of the land, and few had held the title before. But this title was not bestowed upon Lord Vorlund, and now, would never be, for quite often, a wizard is overcome by his pride and power, and becomes evil, seeking all knowledge and power for himself. These wizards are cast out of the council of wizards, though Lord Vorlund was not yet cast out. He and his older brother, Lord Dergathd, were exiled to the north, out of the great council, and there they dwelt for some years, in the caves of Fergathd. But that tale is told elsewhere.

After two days upon the sea, the island of Asydia appeared before them, on the horizon, the Sulith Mountain rose high above the city. They sailed into the docks of the city on the afternoon of the third day of their journey.

At first, the people of the docks cried, ‘Lo, the ships Sorion and Nrion are come. The captain of Annandjan, or our king have come.’

Then, as the ships got closer, they saw not the flag of Guijan, but the wizard’s flag, and they thought that the Annandjan city had been taken, and its ships seized. For a while the ships were not allowed to dock, until the captain of the city was brought, along with many archers of the city. All the cannons were loaded, and pointed at the two ships. While the many towers overlooking the dock were filled with soldiers of Asydia.

‘Who are you?’ Captain Galodan asked, standing upon the tallest tower overlooking the dock. ‘And what is your business here?’

‘Are the friends of Guijan no longer welcomed in the city of Asydia?’ Lord Vorlund asked back. ‘I am Lord Vorlund, friend of Guijan, and I have sailed here to perform tasks, by leave of your king.’

‘How is it that you are friend of the king? What proof do you have of this?’ The captain asked again.

‘I was given his two most precious ships. If that is not a sign of friendship, nothing else is.’ The wizard lied.

After this, Lord Vorlund was allowed into the city, though many were suspicious of him. None trusted him because of the foul orcs that he had as company, and for this reason, Lord Vorlund went north, and he and his army dwelt in the mountains for a long while.

As months passed, Captain Galodan became more and more suspicious of Lord Vorlund, for none had seen him for the entire time of his stay. Also, the farmers of the city complained that the evil men, orcs, roamed the mountain, and they were no longer able to farm far from the city, for all were afraid of the orcs.

‘Great blades they carry.’ Some farmers complained. ‘And their walk tramples the earth, making it impossible for green things to grow.’

In the months that the wizard went north, new fire rose from the peak of the mountain, and everyone became afraid. The mountain was swollen and its grounds no good for the planting of green plants. More and more orcs were seen traveling along the north of the island. Later, the smoke from the mountain turned to fire, and whenever the mountain roars, the entire island shook, and people cower from fear.

The two great ships that were docked in the city were later taken away by orcs, and many wished that Lord Vorlund had gone away with it, but orcs still dwelt on Asydia, and many knew that Lord Vorlund still dwelt there.

Many complaints came from the people of Asydia, and the captain became tired of the doings of Lord Vorlund, surely the king did not order such chaos in one of his own city, he thought. ‘Sail,’ Tórion, the greatest of councilors in Asydia, and close friend of the captain said. ‘Sail for aid. Ask Captain Mihad of Annandjan of this Lord Vorlund; for I do not trust him, and neither does anyone else. I believe that most he spoke of were lies. Seek aid, and declare open war upon Lord Vorlund and his folk, if needs be. Drive him out of our precious home, that he may never return.’

Eventually, the captain gathered his councilors and they set out to the Annandjan city, to question the authority of Lord Vorlund. Kador, one of his greatest knights, he left to command his army, though he wished that there would be no need to do so.

They arrived in Annandjan four days later and found that the person known as Lord Vorlund was the enemy of the Guijan kingdom, and thus found out that they have been deceived. Everyone in Annandjan knew his name and hated it, for he had taken two of the city’s greatest prizes. Knowing that Lord Vorlund was a wizard, the captain of the Annandjan city, Captain Mihad, had left the wizard alone. The lost of his two greatest ships were a small price to pay for the removing a wizard, though men did not truly know how powerful wizards were.

‘But what mischief is this wizard up to now?’ Captain Mihad asked.

‘He’s been unseen for months. Some great devilry he is conjuring up.’ Captain Galohan replied. ‘I fear for the safety of Asydia.’

‘Your soldiers will not be enough to take him and his foul folk on.’ Captain Mihad said. ‘As such, I will gather my best knights, archers and swordsmen and set sail for Asydia. Together we will overwhelm this wizard, and hope for victory.’

‘But then who would guard your city?’ Captain Galohan asked. ‘If war came upon it, it will lay in ruins before you return.’

‘But war has not befallen us for many years, and I think that the Free Villages still hold all of the west, for I know that Lord Vorlund hates them. Enemies of a common enemy are allies, I say. We will sail in a week.’

‘Let us hope that when we reach all is well.’

On five ships they sailed, as they left the ships of Asydia behind, for those of Annandjan were faster and stronger, and equipped with cannons, thus better suited for war.

In the months that Lord Vorlund has been in the mountains, he had his orcs carve a cave into the mountain, but its entrance was from the north, and none in Asydia has seen this. He awoke the fire from the mountain. And with this new fire, he started to breed orcs, and in a few months, he had an army of hundreds, enough to destroy the city of Asydia, but his mind was still on the Free Villages.

Also, may more orcs came form the south, though they circled around the island and came to the mountain from the north, thus avoiding being seen from the eyes of the soldiers of Asydia. A dock they built here, and northwards it too faced. Lord Vorlund had worked in secrecy, for so was his strength. The enemy would not know what to expect.

Lord Vorlund let loose his orcs, few of them, to witness the fear they instilled into the hearts of the Asydians. He slowly drove the Asydians back, and farmers no longer farmed far north, for the orcs often marched there.

One of the councilors of Galohan was under the wizard spell, though none knew this, and the wizard forced this councilor, whose name was Tórion, to convince the captain to leave Asydia. This he did, but unknowingly and innocently.

When Captain Galohan had gone to the city of Annandjan, Lord Vorlund let loose his army. Through the city they went, burning all in their path. The soldiers tried to fight as they could, being led by the knight Kador. But as neither he nor they had fought any wars or battles, the greater number of orcs overwhelmed their strategy. They fought, and many died, until the soldiers held the towers by the docks at the south of the city. The knight was still their leader, but he was unable to lighten the hearts of his fellow soldiers against the endless waves of orcs they faced.

So great was the army of orcs that many Asydians died, soldiers, women and children. The surviving civilians were sent away, by orders of Kador, to Annandjan on the remaining boats, while the soldiers kept to the towers. Many soldiers of Asydia still lived, and the towers were held for a long while, while everyone prayed for the arrival of the soldiers of Annandjan, if any would be coming, for none knew what counsels Captain Galohan took.

Six days after the assault began, the ships of Annandjan came, bearing the flag of Guijan. Cannons were fired, and archers fitted arrows in their bows. The ships had met with the fleeing ships of Asydia, and they knew that war was on hand, and hoped that all was not lost. From far they saw the fires of the city, and the hearts of the soldiers of Annandjan were down. But now they saw that their friends held the towers, while the orcs made new weapons to destroy these. The cannons of the ships chased the orcs back, while the archers and swordsmen were unloaded. The knights of Annandjan led their company into battle, with the archers first, who drove back the orcs farther. The orcs had only swords, and thus, they realized they had to charge into their enemies to destroy them, and this they did. But the swordsmen were ready, and very well skilled.

It seemed to the men in the towers that victory was at hand, for the number of orcs became fewer with every wave of orcs that charged. Kador ordered that they come out of their towers and joined in the battle from the ground.

Captain Galohan was glad to see his knight Kador, still alive, and leading his army well, given the strength of the enemy. ‘Well have you fared, Kador.’ Captain Galohan said. ‘You may make a great captain yet, if your time comes and Asydia is saved.’

Side by side the two captains, Mihad and Galohan, now fought, and no orc escaped their wrath. Through the fiery city, the two captains led the remainder of their army, chasing back the orcs, and it seemed that they had won.

To the mountains, the orcs fled, and the captains chased them no longer. The mountain roared and was silent.

The armies went about outing the fires of the city, trying to save whoever and whatever they can. They began to realize that never could Asydia be rebuilt to the glory that it once was. Great smoke filled the skies, and darkened it, Asydia had already fallen, but men still defended it, and the two captains knew that Lord Vorlund would strike again.

Lord Vorlund realized that his army was beaten in strength, but he was wise. He set orcs to the ships he had built, and with these went Sorion and Nrion, and they sailed far north, out of sight, and circled south until the came to the docks. Three days this journey took, and on the third day, Lord Vorlund came out from the mountain, and charged the men with all his strength. They battled for a long time.

Though the number of the orcs was few, they fought harder, for their Lord was with them, and he was strong in sword and magic. Many spells he used on his enemy, controlling the weak-minded knights, or causing the earth to tremble beneath his enemies. But eventually, he was over powered by Captain Galohan himself, and here, the councilor Tórion, came, his sword high in the air, and struck down his master and lord.

Captain Galohan lay dead, and many from Asydia who saw this became filled with tears. Tórion was then struck down by many arrows from the archers of Annandjan, as he too lay in tears by his lord, for he had loved him. The knight Kador stood and wept, and would have died, had not Captain Mihad come in time. Captain Mihad came upon the wizard and defended the blow that was intended at the distraught knight, but the wizard put away his sword, and lowered his staff. ‘What victory do you wish to gain by slaying me?’ The wizard asked, as the battle continued all around them. ‘Where would you go, if you win?’

‘What?’ Captain Mihad asked, for he was puzzled. He still held his sword in his hand, and was ready to strike.

‘Look!’ The wizard instructed, and he pointed far to the south, where the ships of Annandjan were docked. ‘You see, you have no hope of escaping.’

The orc ships had gone around, led by Sorion and Nrion hoisting the wizard’s flag, and were destroying all the ships of Annandjan. Most were already sunk, or in flames. The anger grew in Captain Mihad, and he turned around to strike the wizard, but he was gone.

Then the orcs came pouring from the ships, new ships that just came from the southwest, and the soldiers were surrounded. As they tried to fight their way out, a loud thunder was heard. Horses came riding down the hill, the horses that were brought over when the wizard first came to the island. Upon the lead horse was Lord Vorlund himself, and behind him were many of the men of Caarb and most of Vorlund’s strongest orcs.

The mountain roared up again, as if angered by the raging horses, and fire came from its mouth, and with it came smoke and ash. This darkened the sky and blocked out the sun.

‘Retreat!’ Captain Mihad cried, and began running towards to docks, through the sea of oncoming orcs. Many of the remaining soldiers ran too, and many were slain even as they ran. When they got to the docks, only but a few remained, one of these was Kador, the Asydian knight. The captain jumped into the best ship there was, and even though it was on fire, he set sail in it with the survivors.

Many orcs climbed on board too, but they were slain, as the ship left the harbor. The remaining soldiers outed the fires from the ship’s sails, and the ships of Lord Vorlund chased them no more. Asydia was lost, and Guijan had suffered a great loss to their army.

The sails of the ship captain Mihad now controlled were all burnt, and they could not steer the ship towards Annandjan, for the tide bore them southwest. But captain Mihad was glad, for he knew that the Free Villages would welcome him and his army, and they would love to hear of the news they brought, though it be but sad news.

Of the sad ordeal of the fall of Asydia, twenty-three soldiers survived. Of these were Captain Mihad of Annandjan and the knight Kador of Asydia. The number lost totaled almost two thousand, including men, women and children, and Captain Galohan of Asydia. Twenty-six ships of Annandjan were lost including Sorion and Nrion; the last to be destroyed was Cudoc, the one on which they now sailed upon.

When they were safely away, Kador looked back upon his city that he had loved. A dark cloud from the Sulith Mountain now covered the entire island, and where he could still see through this, he saw that new fires were lit on the buildings that survived.

‘And so ends the days my city.’ He said to himself. ‘And the days of my lord.’

And Captain Mihad heard this and he came up to Kador and said: ‘Captain Galohan wanted you to lead to city after him, if there were a city to rule. I promise you this, his last wish would come through before my heir takes the high seat in Annandjan.’