Chapter V - Elves and humans

Roun's way across the Elven lands was long and tiring, but alleviated by the kind hospitality of Elves, even more punctilious considering Roun's noble blood. He had enough gold peaces to pay for his bed and food but his money were constantly refused in all the Elven inns, being treated as an honored guest rather than a client. Roun knew he was going to miss the warmness, the comfort and the beauty of the Elven lands. Soon, he’d enter the human territories, very soon. And a new, different world would open to his eyes: A strange world, populated by those even stranger creatures of Norbus, the humans.
Humans were different from all the other species on Atri. You just couldn’t tell what they were after. They couldn’t be trusted. Roun was strongly advised not to count on any of them since they always seemed to have their own agenda.
-Like all of us, whispered Roun to himself…
His way in Elven territories got close to its end. He was about to enter Palinesti, the most Southern of the Elven territories and already started to feel sorry he was traveling alone. He needed a rested horse, victuals for the rest of the journey but most of all he felt he could use a companion to share the coldness of the nights and the watch hours with. Human lands were not a safe place to sleep unguarded and Roun knew that he had enough money and precious objects to tempt a horde of human thieves. Silently, a red crepuscule invaded the sky pointing in the horizon the dark silhouettes of the woods of Palinesti. The closest inn should be 6-7 hours far, so he could get there before dawn and even catch a little sleep after a glass of that Elven Golden wine that made Palinesti vineyards so famous.
The red fire started to fade in the sky, as Demius’ heart traveled along to shine into the darkness of other lands. Mists started to rise from the heated ground, making the shadows appear more alive, more mysterious. It was a time of illusions and Roun thought his magic was just like that hour… using his will to shadow the world.
-Greetings to you, traveler! Forgive me if I disturbed your thoughts…
-Greetings, my lady. How should I be of help? I see you’re traveling alone…
-I am indeed. And I got lost. I’m looking for the Inn of Purple Rose. I dared to ask no stranger since these are dangerous times for a woman alone. But there will be dark soon. And you, traveler, seem to be of noble blood.
It was only than that Roun noticed the woman he spoke to was human, not Elven. Her long copper hair was covering her ears, gentle curls framing her strong, well defined features. She was wearing a gray cloak but Roun still figured she was not wearing a dress, but leather cloth, flexible, yet providing good protection against side arms. Roun was surprised to meet a human girl there, but immediately realized they were pretty close to the boarder by now.
-You’re stepping into Elven lands. You must not be afraid. We are kind and respectful people, my lady.
-You must come from far away, my lord. Palinesti might be Elven in the vineyards. These are mixture lands. You may encounter many surprises on your way. Especially in the time of the night…
-Well lady… You may join me, if you please. I’m also going to spend the night at the Purple Rose. And I can vouch for no Elf would even try to harm you on our way.
-Elves weren’t exactly what I feared. But I’ll accept your kind offer. It’s a great honor for me to travel by your side, my lord.
What is your name? And, tell me, are you from the North? Your cloths look so different from what I’ve seen Elves wear around here.
-My name is Roun. I come from Qualinesti.
-So I was right. You’re from the North. These are true Elven lands, aren’t they? I wish I could see them… rumors say their beauty is hard to imagine…or to forget…
-Yes, Qualinesti is indeed very beautiful. But I can assure you, these are also Elven territories and I believe there are lots of prodigious places here, too. Elves can’t live without order… and beauty. This is the way we are.
-Well, I hope you won’t be too disappointed in the morning, my lord. Still, the wine is incredibly good.
-You don’t seem too delighted with what you’ve seen around, my lady.
-Well, I’m not. It’s a motley crowd swarming around… Elves, yes, but not very many… trying to stand for their ways in front of a mixture of humans, dwarves, gnomes, kenders, weather changers, magicians, mercenaries, mountebanks, charlatans…
-I find your sayings very strange… but I suppose it must be a reason for all this, although, you might be mistaken.
-Of course I might, my lord. I am just a woman. A poor human woman. You’d better see it for yourself.
A tensed silence floated in the air. Roun’s stylished manners were overturned by the woman’s bitter bite of sarcasm. Yet she kept on stirring his curiosity…
-Will you tell me your name, lady?
-Lamar… And there’s no need to call me lady. Although it sounds so fascinating with Northern Elvish accent. Sometimes I wish I was one, just get amused by the sound of it… Lady Lamar…
The woman started to laugh. There was something powerful and rough in her attitude that let Roun know he’d better not treat her with any kind of condescendence.
-I come from the Middle Lands. But that I guess you already knew, since I’m human. I grew up in Fasta-Lari, but I traveled a lot. Still, I never got into true Elven lands.
-Elves are suspicious with other races. Yet you would be greeted with respect if you choose to travel in our lands.
-If I was allowed… You know, you have strict conditions under which a stranger may pass your boarder.
-But you are here now, aren’t you?
-Yes… Then again, like it or not, Palinesti is not quite Elven. Nobody asks too many questions in here.
Roun didn’t like the irony in her voice nor the bitter disregard she showed for his people. Yet he thought of Dul’Aran, the savage place of his childhood that was only by name considered to be Elven territory.
-She might be right… He thought to himself.
The night was still young. They had another three or four hours of fast riding until they could enjoy the hospitality of the inn. But Roun was enjoying another thing: the intriguing company of the red haired woman. She seemed to be very young, yet her voice was strong and stern, with deep, velvet inflexions. Roun liked to listen to her voice as it flew gently, like the dark waters of the Daji River.
She spoke about a life of adventure and change, about races Roun found strange and incomprehensible, yet, in her stories, they all seemed fascinating.
-And I caught his axe… You should have seen his face! He didn’t see it coming… You, men… You always underestimate women. That was his last mistake!
-You killed him?
-Him? No… He was so shocked to see his own blade resting on his throat he forgot he was sitting on the edge of the gulf. He just stepped back a little too much!
-Lamar, I don’t understand… You seem to have a certain experience in battle. Why were you afraid to travel alone, here, in Palinesti? It might not be as civilized as the rest of the Elven domain; still I believe it is a better place than those you’ve scoured through.
-You know not what you’re talking about, Roun. Still, it was not fear that pushed me towards you. I like efficiency. I do not kill for pleasure, like other mercenaries. In fact, violence disgusts me. And making conversation with strangers may be more than an invitation to a robbery or at least a good fight. And I have neither the time nor the mood for this kind of fun.
On the other hand, you are an interesting man, Roun. A bit too sober and haughty for my taste… but…Hey, maybe you’re shy! Are you shy, Roun?
-I don’t think so, Lamar. Yet I respect the differences between our worlds and understand them. I believe humans have a quicker manner of getting close to each other. We are used to be more solitary and control our reactions…
-Oh, you are so shy…and deliciously solemn! Ha ha! Maybe it’s a racial character… Added Lamar with a crooked smile on her lips.
Roun looked at her, not being sure whether the girl intended to offend him or not. And he noticed she was beautiful, but in a very not-Elven way. Her eyes were ashy, cold as ice. Yet there was ferocity, an untamed spirit that glittered in her look, like the grin of a savage beast. There was darkness, and passion, and blood in her eyes. Her strong jaw and firm nose spoke to Roun about instinct and independence. There was a lonely wolf that lived untamed in her heart. He understood that woman would never have any master except her own will and also felt he had to fight not to be dominated by her character. And he felt Lamar’s wolf howling in the darkness, awakening his own, calling for the most tempting smell of warm blood.
-Why are you so quiet, my friend? Did I offend you in any way?
-You didn’t… Look, Lamar, we’re nearly there… I can see the lights.
You told me a lot of stories today. Still, you said nothing about yourself. What are you looking for?
-I do not talk about myself. Not with everyone I happen to travel with.
Roun was not expecting that sharp answer. He was surprised by her reticence, especially since he shared with her his reasons, destination and expectations. The silence started to press on his shoulders like a heavy load.
-I meant not to intrude… I was curious about you… and you seemed opened to a friendly chat…
-Yeah, I do that sometimes… Listen carefully, young Elf. We are not friends. We just traveled together. And I appreciated your company… your vanity I appreciated less, but I guess I had to deal with it.
Let’s get inside. I’m freezing here.
The night grew kindly over the two travelers. The inn was hold by Tirthanas, a Silver Elf that tried to make from his place a small piece of Elven paradise. Beds were comfortable and sheets were soft and clean. And of course, Lamar, like nothing happened, asked Roun to join her for a glass of golden wine. Although confused a bit by her moody attitude, Roun accepted and soon they were laughing and chatting like old pals.
The tender light and the friendly buzzing of mixed voices warmed their hearts even better than the glasses of wine. Lamar’s look ceased to show that devious glitter and her features grew softer, lighter as the golden liquor heated her blood.
-So you’re going to Saligredan… in search of knowledge… It’s a good place to learn things. And I’m not referring only to magic.
-Maybe it’s not only magic I’m after…
-What are you after, Roun?
-I have others answers to find… How about you?
-Me, my friend? What could be after a poor human woman? I have no noble blood, no high ambitions, and, of course… not another three hundred years in front of me to perfect my arts, as you have… so… I guess my life goes with my sword. I go wherever the winds of fortune blow.
-And where does this wind of yours blow now?
-It’s blowing south… South… she whispered in a mysterious voice.
As the two companions were enjoying their conversation, four hooded silhouettes appeared at the Purple Rose’s door. They asked for food and wine and sat at a secluded table, covered in shadows, near the huge fireplace.
They talked rarely and bellow their breath, whispering words in a strange language that reminded of a bird’s cry.
Although neither she nor Roun could hear their meager conversation, Lamar pricked up her ears and sharpened her attention. A gloomy expression wandered for an instant across her face.
-What happened? asked Roun, noticing her sudden change.
-Nothing, my friend. Just some old memories… Tell me, young mages, such as you, are they of any good in battle?
-I might be young… but I’m a skilled white robe.
-Of course, you are… That’s why you are going to Saligredan. To find some disciples and teach them real magic!
-Your irony is most inappropriate. I passed my last test and I might add it wasn’t easy. In fact, it was the most deceiving experience in my life…
-Oh, in your whole life… I see… That you spent where? In beautiful shiny Qualinesti?
-All human women have such a sharp tongue as you do?
-No, only the ones who know how to use a sword. But, don’t let my humble talents interfere with your story. You were telling me about your combat skills.
-I am good in combat. I have defeated a dark Elf… and he was much more experienced. Look, I don’t like to talk about these things.
-You don’t, do you? Tell me, did you ever kill a man?
Roun’s face ran white. He killed the dark Elf. He did it with some sort of sick, rabid pleasure, that he couldn’t control… and although he found out it was nothing more than a magic illusion, he knew his doing was still a sacrilege.
-I thought so… continued Lamar with a victory smile on her face. You, Elves, have a thing against dying. You know why? You just live too long… You’ve got too much time to think…
Well, perhaps one day I’ll see a nice glittering combat spell with your signature on it.
-I really hope you won’t… And I’m not wasting magic for funny demonstrations.
-What if I was attacked? Would you defend me, young mage?
-What happened to your sword?
-Oh, smart answer for an Elf.
-I’m a quick learner.
-Would you defend me?
-Yes… I would do my best to keep you safe.
-So, after all, I might get my little demonstration…

Memento Vihta! ... si Marooned...

Ce tarziu e... atat de tarziu! Si totusi toamna de abia a inceput, cu zile aramii si scurte, usor amarui, usor stranii...

Am impartit cu tine o cup-a tristetii
in noaptea aceea
o toamna blanda parea sa se nasca.
Aveam fructe trecute in inima
cu seva lor dulce mustind
in sangele meu.
Tu erai trist cu durerea aceea
de inceput de lume...
Eu sorbeam cu nesat vazduhul
in care te-nvarteai ca un gand lovit
si ma legam de tine cu lanturi nevazute,
cu toate cuvintele pe care
inca niciodata nu ti le-am spus.
Intre noi zbura Vihta, de la unul
la altul
cosand tristetea in cupa ei,
cosand inima mea de inima ta,
intunericul meu de bezna din tine...

Memento Vihta!

Chapter IV - More confusion, dear Lemalian...

-You are afraid, my dear Lemalian, and you are right to be. Just for your general knowledge, I could kill you with a breath. But I won't... you gave me no reason yet. So pay attention to my words and stop looking for ways to escape. There's none. And after I am finished with you, I'll set you free. You'll be able to do what you please... After all, this world is more yours than it is mine.
-I am listening.
-That's better. I know you've been to the Thas'thali meetings. Now tell me, what was their decision?
-I don't think you ought to know that...
-You don't, do you? I am really tempted to teach you some respect, but I'm afraid I will not have a dialog partner any more... Listen, Lemalian, I find stupid both your resistance and your defying attitude. You should have learned by now you stand no chance in front of me. And ... I know about their decision, of course I know... I was just making small talk with you to detente the atmosphere... They chose to let them pass. Elves... always acting cowardly when war comes to the gates.
-We are not cowards! We want to protect our own kind... what you call cowardice is in fact wisdom and respect for life!
-Oh, here some big words coming... You must be a fool or a dreamer. I actually prefer dreamers, they're more funny. So you consider wise to let the humans enter the forbidden lands and do what Turturi tried to accomplish a long time ago... to open Rubshi's door to the Abyss... and unleash all evil in your world... Yes, put this way, it actually sounds clever... How many Lunthosz brainstormed in there to come to this bright idea? Seven? Yes, the wise Elves have done it again...
-Turturi is only a legend... Did you expect to allow death and misery to enter our lands just for the sake of some old fairytale?
-A legend, you say... Turturi is as much of a legend as I am... She's more real than you and your Thas'thali... and she will do much evil if she's given the chance. She still haunts the forbidden lands with her army a spirits... there's evil and hatred and lust for revenge that your mind couldn't even conceive... They'd kill every life they encounter to ease the pain of death they're carrying with them for centuries... They have no weakness, no emotion except the drive for death... Darkness emptied their minds, their will... They have no other desire than to destroy, since for them, there is no redemption. Perhaps this is your only chance: that Turturi would kill the human armies before they even know it. And that's what's mostly to happen unless...
-Unless they're after the same thing...
-Well, I knew you were a dreamer, not a fool... Exactly! If Turturi figures out she could use the mindless and conceited humans in her benefit, she'll keep them alive. And with her help, they would be able to open the door... Turturi would unite with her goddess, Rubshi, and the world would taste the chaos and the sorrow... But I bet your council didn't think at that, did they?
-I will speak in the next meeting. I'll make them change their minds... At least I'll try...
-Oh, Lemalian, my dreamer... Admit it... There are few chances you'll succeed in this task. But we have to try this too. It would be much simpler.
-But what else can we do about it?
-Oh, there are some other options... Where is the spirit of the warrior? Did one political meeting choke it? Are you so easy to defeat?
If they won't cooperate, and I believe they won't... We'll just have to destroy the door ourselves...
-Like in going to the forbidden lands, fighting Turturi and her army, finding mysterious door to the Abyss nobody ever saw and... destroying it?
-Yeah, something like that... and I like your sarcasm. There are people who could help you... You'll have to start looking for Wuu...
-Who's this Wuu?
-This Wuu is the Master of wings and fire bows. He was born from a lightning and he comes from the beginnings... He is a spirit of the war, but not the creature of Rubshi... You'll have to get him to help you. And there's another man, the one who also helped your brother...
-What do you know about Liv? He helped him to his death?!
-Easy now... He didn't kill your brother...somebody else did...
-You know who did it?
-This, Lemalian, is a long story and our time is growing short. Gru-Kwan lives in human territories, in the Middle Lands. Last time I heard from him he was lounging around Dardas... Yet I doubt he's still there, he's a nomad and a mercenary.
-I have to trust someone who trades death for money?
-You have to put your trust in no one. Not even in yourself. But use who you need to get to your purpose. And you need Gru-Kwan, believe my words!
-And even so, how do you propose to get into the forests and not to get killed instantly?
-Everything at its time... For now, we have to keep on hoping... That your unskilled oratory will change the mind of seven stiffed and traditionalist Elven Lunthosz...
-Indeed... but... why didn't you speak to somebody else, then? To somebody more influent, more experienced?
-I speak to who I please, young warrior! Now go! And let Demius guard your steps into the light...

The heavy darkness started to fade as the two golden eyes disappeared in the night. Lemalian continued to stare in the foliage, at the place where the mysterious creature faded. He's mind was full of unanswered questions and confusion. He even wondered if that all wasn't nothing more than a dream, a creation of his tired mind. But the pain he did still bear in all his body reminded him it was all for real. The old footpath was now visible in front of him, but he had no drive to go home. He felt knotty and helpless...
“Roun, he thought, Roun would have understood all of this... He's so fond of mysteries and dillemas. He would have made some sense out of all this... He would have known what to do next...”

And far away, in Qualinesti, Roun was keeping Astara's hand into his own, telling her things she'd rather not hear...
-You took it, didn't you, she asked. Otherwise you wouldn't be standing here, with me, that self content smile on your face. You would be gone to one of your secret places to muffle the wounds of your vanity.
-I did take it... But I'm not very proud of myself, you know... I made mistakes I shouldn't have made. But I am a magic user now... A White robed magic user!
-A magic looser, if you asked me...
-Astara, I have to go...
-What, you have a bed-time hour?
-I have to leave Qualinesti...
-Hm... I was afraid you'd say that. Where do you want to go now? You drained out all the fountains of knowledge in here and you're still thirsty?
-You know I am... Tartas said he has no more to teach me. If I stay... I would resign to mediocrity.
-Now you're calling Tartas a mediocre? You're more vain than I thought...
-No... He's not. Yet, I must know more... I fill the time passing through my veins... and I seem to stare of it and do nothing... I have to do something... to complete myself, my magic...
-We all have to fight time to conquer our destinies... yet there is more to life than magic.
-I know... but... you haven't seen what I was able to do. I have to let it grow, I have to master it.
-You're delirious... You have everything here. But you're still chasing shadows.
-My magic is not a shadow.
-Your magic is my worst enemy...
-Why is that, Astara? You've always been like this towards magic... why?
-Because, my dear Roun... No, forget it... Where do you intend to go?
-Saligredan, in the Middle Lands.
-Human territories! Are you out of your mind??!! Your parents... do they know?
-Not yet. I came to speak to you first. I hoped... you might understand.
-You're going to live among humans... far away from our homelands... there are devious things happening there, humans are devious creatures... they don't like us, they fear us...
-...
-But I do understand.
-Thank you Astara, my dear friend.
-Don't thank me... at least... don't thank me... She softly stepped away from him, her dark hair flowing in the wind.
-Speak to your parents. It's gonna be way more difficult to make them understand. When are you living?
-Tomorrow, I guess...
-Typically you...couldn't wait one more day... So be it... travel well my friend...

Roun left the garden with a strange feeling. He expected something else from Astara. He expected invectives, screams, frets, fury explosions... and, after all these went flat, he really expected a friendly warm smile and a hug. Instead he had to bear Astara's sadness, the feeling that he has disappointed her, that he hurt her somehow. And he was sad.
The talk he had with his parents, on the other hand, was exactly as he imagined it. They were very discontent of his decision. They even mentioned that if he wouldn't have passed Phyotas. They would never allow his departure. Heavy words were said, but in the end they had to give Roun their blessing.
In the morning, hardly trying to hide her tears, lady Thalida walked him to the gates.
-Travel well, my son...
Astara didn't come.

Chapter III - Dark Mysteries

-So today is your big test, Rounrianthas of Parthanasti?
-Yes, master Tartas... softly said Roun, bowing his head.
-And you feel prepared to take it, don't you?... You are ambitious and skilled...yet... I'd rather not give you my blessing. But this matter, of course, is out of my hands...
You have the heart of a warrior and the sharpness of a politician, you have noble blood and you could easily ascend to a Lunthosz position... you could lead our people and do great things... Yet you choose to walk the slippery ways of magic.
-I might do great things with my magic too, Master...
-Your magic? Magic does not belong to anyone... It hovers like a bird of smoke in the air and whispers in your ear sweet and delusive words... It bites your heart with a fang full of poison and delight. Its bite does not kill but neither can be cured. It does not hurt but slowly devours your soul. It gives you power that will constantly try to take over you, to posses you. And you will fight it till one of you will subdue the other.
-Then so I shall do. And, Master, you know that even if its desire would be upon me, I shall rule over it and it will not defeat me.
-Maybe, or maybe not... Do not defy its power, as it feeds from your own...
Roun, its in your heart that lies the seed of your destruction. It's buried deeply in there and waits for the right time to be awakened. I saw it in you, shining in your eyes while you were casting your spells. Your heart is not for magic. Not for Elven magic. There's a starving wolf hidden in you that traces the smell of power, of the darkness... it's kept silent by your Elven blood... but the other...the other will unleash it...
-I am Rounrianthas, Thosz of Parthanasti. My blood is pure!
-Your blood wears the seal of the night, Roun... But some things are better not to be spoken of... May Demius guard your steps and your words of magic! If you are determined to take the test, so be it!
-I am determined, Master Tartas...
-I was afraid of that answer... yet I was prepared for it... Enter the left door!


Roun woke up early in the morning. He loved to be the first to hear the bitter-sweet song of the awakening forest. The fire quenched but was still steaming. Lem was enjoying his deep morning sleep and didn't hear his friend's delicate moves. Careful not to make any unnecessary noise, Roun raised up and faded into the forest. He was very fond of his morning walks, all by himself, through the tall and rough woods of Dul'Aran that he came to love. They were so different from the ones in Qualinesti. The Elven spirit seemed there to catch in a contaminating embrace the spirit of the nature. Trees were supple and shaped in delicate forms, like sculptures. Ivy-clad trunks raised from the ground heading to the sky like arrows and all land seemed to be tamed, subdued to the spirit of order and perfection.
There was not such a thing in Dul'Aran. At the border of the Elven territories, Dul'Aran seemed to borrow a lot of the ruggedness of Gundharosh, land of the orcs.
Dul'Aran was a dangerous place to live in, and the only reason the two elf kids were free to wander its forests and deep caves was that in Qualinesti, at that time, was even more dangerous. The Rhym, a plague brought by the humans, decimated hundreds of Elves. The terrible disease had no mercy and made no difference of race or noble blood. Many died, even from the leading families and Elven medicine could do nothing to stop it. Those who could send their kids away, in distant lands, some of them even in the other races' territories. And thus, Roun and Lem got to Dul'Aran, the wildest of Elven lands, often pillaged by solitary orcs who found in that savage environment a familiar touch of their natural habitat in Gungharosh.
-I'll fix some elegant breakfast, Roun said to himself as he walked under the heavy foliage. Some gingus fruits would be a delicious alternative to Lem's barbarian wild dove roast.
Gingus fruits were hard to get since ginguses were boarder species with both roots and moving branches that protected furiously the fruits against any attempt of plunder. But Roun knew a spell he wanted to exercise. He hid himself in a more secluded place where he had a good view of the gingus from. He closed his eyes and started to cast the spell. But the words of magic started to melt in his mind with other words, that were not his... words of power and runes he knew he couldn't even pronounce... And fear invaded his thoughts, fighting desperately to tear himself out of the trance.
-Don't fight it... it's useless...subdue...whispered the words, that were not words anymore, nor a voice, but a song of emotions and thoughts mixed together and deliriously shouting in his mind. Roun's will was all focused in one point, to sustain his being in front of the boiling power trying to overcome him. Let go... whispered a fragile thought melting like a wave in the tempest. Let go... whispered another one... A sweet feeling softly touched his heart, like the kiss of the wind... Let go... Slip away...
Roun tried to resist it, but the warm embrace of nothingness started to swing him into a sweet surrender.
-Let me blow through your veins the words you never knew... all the magic is yours... you know that... just let it be... let it wave inside you, let it blossom...
-You will not master me...
-Let go... and you will have it all...
-I can't...no... I'm scared...
-Let it slip away through your blood... let it be one with you, your love, your lust, your everything... and it will give you everything...
-I... can't...
The words faded away and his mind seemed to drive away the misty clouds of magic. Yet he wasn't prying the gingus anymore... he was sitting on a cedar branch at the edge of the clearing he and Lem spent the night. Lem was still sleeping. He could see him well from there. And he could see another thing: A tall Elf, wearing dark robes getting closer to him, an orb in his right hand, that he moved following the incantation. Roun knew what that meant. He must have been a renegade, wearing the dark robes of evil magic, exiled from Elven lands for his drive for darkness. Roun knew both him and Lem were in great danger. In those time of chaos and desperation, Elven children from the high families, that were sent away for their protection, could fall victims to the greed of bandits and mercenaries that used to keep them prisoners until they got a redemption. Some of them were brutally killed by their kidnappers. And the Elf was not an ordinary thief. He was a renegade magic user, his heart full of hatred and torn to the darkness.
"He's gonna kill him..." Roun thought. "I must do something..." And with the urge of despair, he tried to get together the words of a spell. He knew few offensive spells, and most of them weak...but... at least he could distract the renegade's attention and wake up his friend.
-Ragnarak vorbur liam ktor! whispered Roun... Ragnarak gurg! A shiny wave slipped through the air hitting the dark robed in his back. The wave broke into a scream that shook the old trees and echoed in the cliffs. The renegade jumped away in pain and turned to look after his opponent. Lem woke up in fear and raised up to his feet. He looked for his bow but he couldn't find him. With a slip of the hand the renegade sent a spell directly in Lem's chest. Lemalian fell down struggling to escape the hold of hundreds of invisible wires. Then he turned to Roun, and started to spell the words of another spell. Roun knew it not, yet somehow he seemed to understand it... like he was hearing again the word of a long forgotten poem. There was no poetry in that incantation, since it raised a spell of the death. Words of magic, strange and alien, started again to play in his mind... words he understood but yet, he never knew...
-Let me fight him, they whispered... Let go... Roun saw the sharp light of the combat spell the renegade casted coming closer and closer. Time seemed to froze in that one second between the last word of incantation and the moment the victims falls down under the crash... And then... the words formed in his head... his lips murmured the words... and the dark Elf's spell broke into dazzling drops of light. He spelled another spell and then another... But the dark Elf was good, parring them away. Yet he could not resist the hurricane of Roun spells... difficult and fast combat spells that were coming from the unknown, growing and blasting in his blood like a voluptuous embrace of power. Roun was one with his magic and felt it growing more and more powerful in his mind... in his heart.
-Stop! shouted Lem. You're killing him!
Roun heard his friend call. But he couldn't stop. He didn't want it to stop.
-He's one of us... You can't kill... the desperate words of Lemalian faded in Roun's mind as he was spelling the words of a killing spell. A dark spell... forbidden...
-Taj devakor! He whispered... and a devious pleasure flooded his heart as the smell of warm blood floods the hawsers of a hungry wolf.
The renegade fell down...dark smoke starting to raise from the body...
Lemalian, freed from the magical bundles, slowly came towards Roun, a bitter look in his eyes.
-He was going to kill us both...whispered Roun, pointing his eyes to the ground.
-He was Elf... he was one of us... We don't kill our own kind...
-I don't know what happened to me... I couldn't stop... I...I have to...
I have to turn myself in...
-And become a renegade too? Not this time...
-I killed one of us...
-The wolf did, not you.
Roun quivered and raised his eyes. Lemalian's green, sad eyes started to become ashy.
-The wolf did it this time... and Lem's face started to change its appearance, getting old, transforming in the oblong face of Tartas, while the savage forest of Dul'Aran was fading in the background. His own appearance started to change, his childish features transforming in ones of an adult.
-Master Tartas! So, I failed you...
-You failed me when you refused to listen to my advice and give up magic.
Yet, you've passed the test.
-But I killed him.
-And he didn't succeed in killing you.
-But the spells were not mine. I know not those combat spells. And the last one...
-You were given access to the same knowledge he mastered. And you were better. You'll keep that knowledge as you'll keep the touch of death in your heart. Remember Roun, although it was all an illusion, the wolf asked for his kill and you gave it to him. It is the wolf you'll have to learn to master. Otherwise, your magic will own you and will devour your soul.
Now go, you know all that I know... there is no more I can teach you.


Roun was not in the excellent mood he expected to be after passing the test. He wasn't an apprentice anymore, but a White robe magic user. And he was young... maybe too young. There were few to pass the test at his age and most of them were human. Yet, he made it! But at what cost... He knew what he had to do next. He had to move to human lands in the misty Saligredan, a place of woods and vast, smooth, silent lakes where there was more magic than in all Elven territories. Saligredan was a place of meeting for wizards in all Atri. Magic was everywhere around and great masters were sometimes willing to teach the secrets of their art. It was there that Roun could improve his skills. But there also were some inconveniences he had to take into consideration. First, his family would be most discontent with his decision. He was going among humans, with no reason to force him to, only to grow into some bizarre occupation they already considered dubious and inappropriate for an Elven Thosz. And then, there was Astara. She understood his drive and motivations, but still wouldn't like to see him gone for gods knew how much time. He had to ponder his words and well choose his arguments. But he was determined to leave with or without his family's blessing.
-Good evening, master Roun! the servant greeted him. I hope you had a day of blessing and serenity!
-Not quite, Drudian, not quite...
-Then perhaps some cardoa flower tea would do you well...
-It actually would, but a little later. Is my father home?
-Yes, both him and lady Thalida are in the upper rooms, doing their meditations.
-Well, I won't disturb them, then. How about Astara, did she come here today?
-She did, master Roun. She's in the gardens right now, she got out for a walk.
-Thank you, Drudian, said Roun heading towards the gardens and getting prepared for what it thought to be the easiest of the confrontations he still had to face that day.

Requiem pentru o vara tarzie

Ultimele zile... si senzatia ca este ceva care se sfarseste ca sa nu se mai intoarca niciodata... Poate viata intensa condensata in lunile astea ca-ntr-o conserva nu vrea sa fie aruncata in camara... Poate e teama ca toata caldura, si bucuria, si faptul c-am fost atat de mult impreuna au sa se stearga treptat, pe masura ce frigul ne va alunga in case.
Ce frumoasa a fost vara asta!
Vara prietenilor, a libertatii, a renasterii (la anul astept cadourile tot pe 8 iunie:), a increderii neconditionate in El, vara in care am descoperit intunericul si blandetea din oameni, vara in care am descoperit intunericul si blandetea din mine... Vara in care am inceput sa traiesc din nou, cand am redefinit a trai in termenii pe care i-am visat dintotdeauna, liber, curajos, fara hamuri, lanturi si colivii, alergand peste prerii intinse ca o herghelie de cai salbatici... Vara in care am invins frica... de durere, de moarte, de incertitudine, de inaltime, de inec, de oameni, de a fi descoperita...

De fapt, vara in care mi-am slefuit inima de piatra pana la inima de sange, vara in care am fost mai mult ca niciodata ALIVE!


Iar acum privesc cu recunostinta la toate acestea si ascund un zambet in inima...

Chapter II - The Thas'thali. Diplomacy

The great Thas’thali has reunited for the third time since the beginning of the age of light. There were controversial issues to be debated… The tensed relations with the human civilizations and especially with Priamthal were starting to become a reason of worry and discontent for some Elven Lunthosz. Three of the seven Lunthosz forming the Thas’thali sustained the idea of a nonaggression treaty with Priamthal. Yet, there were many powerful voices that opposed the idea, considering the defying attitude of Priamthal and their territorial pretentions over the mixture lands of Palinesti, a small region next to Silvanesti, with mild climate and long, sunny autumns that were famous for their extraordinary effect on the golden vineyards. The Golden wine of Palinesti was one of the best on Atri and one of the many racial prides Elves used to sacredly guard. But Palinesti wasn’t always Elven territory. In the age o f shadows, human nomads from the Middle Lands settled there. They named the place Paldaroth, land of the swamps. Paldaroth was an unwelcoming land, dangerous and savage, haunted by strange beasts and wandering spirits. It was a place of Rubshi and legends said somewhere in Paldaroth there was a hidden door to the Abyss…
The barbarians didn’t come there by their own good will. Igrishes pushed them away from their homeland and the humans, people of the planes, had to start it all over in a place where their enemies felt too uncomfortable to hunt them down. The barbarians tamed the land. They drained the swamps and changed the course of the rivers; they cut down the dark forests and turned the savage relief into fertile planes. Their villages of tents boarded the farms and vineyards; they lived peacefully and traded grains, spices and leather with the Silvanesti Elves. The Elves were content with their neighbors, which, despite their primitivism, brought security and composure in the region. But the outsiders still kept the memory of the evilness of the land and even if accidents or bizarre disappearings were not taking place more often than anywhere else on Atri, they were put right away under the sign of the dark spirits that once cursed the misty woods and swamps of Paldaroth. For many centuries peace reigned over both Paldaroth and Silvanesti. Then Turturi came, the high priestess of Rubshi and started a search for the Abyss portal. There were few untamed places in Paldaroth, but those were indeed terrifying and no living being would adventure in there and get out alive. Yet Turturi dared to step into the forbidden lands… It’s still a mystery what happened with her and her army, but legend says that hoards of dark spirits, calling Rubshi’s name in horrifying ceremonials, came out of the swamps at night and decimated the villages in the neighborhood. These night attacks extended like a plague and soon fear and desolation have spread among those peaceful people. The most skeptical blamed the brotherhood of thieves that attacked even before from time to time in the North… But even they feared the name of Turturi.
In time barbarians left the place and Elves extended to the deserted lands. They pledged it to Demius, changed it name in Palinesti and planted the famous vineyards, Elves were so proud of. There were no violent attacks since Elven sovereignty and the forbidden lands in the hard of Palinesti seemed to bury their secret forever under the sweet coat of tranquility.
But now Priamthal showed a bizarre interest in Palinesti, claiming certain domains to be human territories in their try to reach the forbidden lands. And winds of change started to blow again.
Lemalian tried not to show his discomfort around all these people coming from the highest classes of Elven society and inspiring him to a cold and politically correct distance. Himself coming from the leading family of Qualinesti, the hair of the Pyrurs after the tragic death of his elder brother, Livurbalian, in strange circumstances that the Pyrurs always avoided to discuss, Lem didn’t enjoy at all the icy company of the politicians. Lemalian was 2 years before Phyothas (the age of maturity, around 20 in human years) when it happened, meaning that he was big enough to figure out some of the reasons Liv’s death was covered in silence yet not being an adult, many of his questions remained unanswered. Liv was a magic user, just like Roun. But his passion for magic led him in a close relationship with human mages, wizards of great power, but whom company was not appropriate for an Elven Thosz. Yet, Liv didn’t care and continued to dedicate himself to magic despite the increasing worry and discontent of the family. One day he disappeared leaving a strange note that Lem never red but heard it brought more confusion than perspective into the matter. Rumors were heard that he changed the white robes of good with the red ones, which was totally intolerable for the praisers of Demius. While white robes mages were feared but tolerated and high classed Elves could only practice white magic in restricted limits and as some kind of spiritual development, red and dark robes were practically exiled out of Elven territories. Even when important guests from other races, mages of any kind, but especially red and dark robes were treated with great suspicion. In fact, due to both its mysterious and incomprehensible nature and its seducing power, magic was feared among all the races. And the conservatory Elves never considered it the best occupation for a prince. Lem was close to Liv, he saw the transformations magic produced in him, he understood his passion and he knew his soul. He could never believe his brother could have made an evil choice and when they received the news of Liv’s death in Saligredan, the woods of magic, a place of gathering for magic users in human territories, he was devastated.
Lem thought he could never take over his brother’s dues. Liv grew up as a future Thosz, he understood politics, he was good with strategies and intrigues and his drive for magic only completed his natural talent for leadership. Lem loved to wander freely through the beautiful woods of Qualinesti, he loved his arrows and his bow, he loved to chat, tease and laugh with Roun, his best friend. He enjoyed the sweet game the evening sun played in the rye fields and the slow movement of stars he and Roun could watch for hours, lying on the back and staring at the dark skies. Lem dreamed to live great adventures, but not the kind Liv saw in a trading agreement… He wanted to become a warrior and fight for the cause of Demius. Yet, after Liv’s disappearance, everything changed.
Even now he could hardly hide his anxiety and uneasiness around politicians, men of slippery words and manners that were simply made from a different stuff. And today, he had to represent his family with honor, he was all alone and he never felt more helpless in his entire life. He wished his friend was there, but Roun, though Thosz of Parthanasti, stayed home in Qualinesti having to sustain his first white robe apprentice test with master Tartas.
Suddenly, Lem heard his name spoken clearly in the council.
-Thosz Lemalian of Pyrur, from Qualinesti…
Lemalian rose up and saluted the seven Lunthosz. Then he sat down in his chair and tried to make some sense out of the complicated discussions and arguments he didn’t seem to get.
Should they grant the humans’ free pass in Palinesti, covering with a well done convention the fact that Elven territory was taken away? Should they refuse their pretensions? But that would most certainly lead to war… Priamthal grew year by year in arrogance and power. They were well armed and respected nothing but their own will. A confrontation would mean destruction and death in Palinesti… Elven blood would be shed… Losses would be considerable… But allowing them to pass through Palinesti and granting them a free maneuver aria in the forbidden forests, where they intended to go in search of some irrational superstition, would be more acceptable. But there is, of course, the shame….
But the shame could be covered under the appearance of cooperation…
Yet what if there was some truth, some terrible truth, hidden in the forests? What if they had some information Elves let slip?
But everyone knew humans were driven by their immense vanity and they saw this maneuver more like a demonstration of power for the Elves and their superior attitude and for the gods they seized to praise. They just wanted to show they have no fear and no limit other than death. So, the wise Elves chose to bow their heads and cover the shame in well written words. This way, they should be able to avoid the slaughter humans seemed not to be bothered by and keep good economy in the region. The famous vineyards would also be kept out of the reach of destruction. In the mean time, the Elven army would get prepared to smash future intolerable pretensions from other races.
Lemalian felt waves of fury invading his brain. Human attitude was defying and humiliating. They were not better prepared than the Elves. They had not the strategic masters Elves had nor their experience, nor their intelligence. Elves were better skilled and would have had the first chance in a battle. But the Thas’thali decided to bow in front of those arrogant and self-absorbed brutes… Still, he knew why the Lunthosz took that decision… It was the life they were protecting… If humans wanted to spend their energy hunting shadows and cutting down the forbidden forests, let them do it… After they’ll be done, Elves will grow vineyards and beautiful gardens on the place of the shame. And no Elven blood will be senseless shed…
But in his blood, the voice of the warrior sang a song of hatred and desolation…

The Thas’thali was over. Lemalian felt sad and tired. All he wanted was to go to his chambers and have a good sleep. He descended on the main stairs, made of pure crystal and covered in silver bear fur, wondering how could humans totally ignore beauty and good taste and fret their refined civilisation with the brutality of a muddy boot. Lemalian didn’t have a great taste for luxury nor for phylosophy but theese days did he seem to practice both of them. So, his mind fool of a bitter meditation, he went through the park, heading to the guest house. The garden, conceived in the most elegant Elven style was indeed remarkable. Strictly following the Elven principles of Pure Beauty, it put together in a soft embrace the delicate glitter of a brook, the tall silhouettes of the trees, the mysterious contrasts of light and shadow. Silver lamps hang from the trees, spotting the grass with dragonfly wings. Discrete fountains guarded silently in the corners and crystal statues rose from the foliages. The air carried a slight perfume of fruits and wild flowers. And step by step, Lem felt the spirit of the beauty invading his heart and taking the sorrow away…
Yet, it seemed darker than it should be at that hour, Lem noticed… and there was something else, something he couldn’t point his finger on, but something that made everything feel strange and unreal.
-I must be tired, he said to himself, and hurried up through the ivies. Only that the known footpath seemed to fade away in the darkness. It was, and it was not the same garden he crossed in the morning. And he was all alone… That weird sensation of unreal, of strangeness, like something was wrong in the inner nature of things, came again, giving him chills.
Then, a voice came out of nowhere, changing and wandering, whispering in his ear, whizzing from the trees…
-You should be tired… but I need you awake!
-Who are you? whispered Lem, turning around. Where are you? There was nobody there…
-Well… I am… the one who warns you…
-I like to be looked in the eyes when I am spoken to! Show yourself!
A pair of huge golden eyes suddenly shone in the darkness in front of Lemalian’s face.
-Oh, don’t be scared young warrior! I only wanted to fulfill your wish. I’m looking at you now, are you satisfied?
And laughter exploded from all around, from the foliage, from the earth, from the sky.
-I love to play, the voice continued. I hope this doesn’t offend you, young warrior… Lemalian…
-Who are you? What are you?
-Too many questions… And you don’t seem to listen… Just like your brother!
The darkness became dense, almost liquid. Lem felt it entering his lungs, his skin… He felt a terrible need for fresh air… and a pain in his chest, acute, sharp… He couldn’t breathe. And it was getting so cold he could feel icy needles stinging his face. A fear of death paralized all his senses.
-What do you want from me?
-Oh, now you are listening… your brother was more stubborn… Well, listen then!

The mood for Poetry:) sau Poem de inima vernil No.7 fara 5

Stiu ca n-am mai scris nimc demult (semn ca I got a life:) si ca este cineva care imi reproseaza asta cu fiecare ocazie, asa ca promit sa dau o dare de seama amanuntita asupra verii imediat ce voi avea mai mult timp. Cross my heart.

Pana atunci, citeste printre metafore, my dear...

Vegheaza-mi somnul!
Pe bratul tau lasa-ma sa-mi intind
visele si noaptea.
O, noaptea mea e plina de stele necunoscute
si vraji...
Lasa-ma, lasa-ma sa-ti prind bratul cu un descantec
cum sarpele-si incolaceste prada...
Lasa trupul meu zvelt sa atinga
pamantul ars al trupului tau...

Vegheaza-mi somnul!
Vezi ca focul sa nu se stinga
in ochiul meu inchis,
in inima ta,
in inima mea...




Te caut in gandurile mele,
in ape adanci si-ntunecate.
Unde esti?
Te leagana marea cum isi leagana mortii
pe care niciodata nu-i va mai da-napoi?
Dormi in pace... Umerii tai
de arama
imi vor mai bantui o vreme visele...
Si pentru o vreme mainile tale salbatice
inca-mi vor mai prinde gandul
in bratari barbare...


- Parca as mangaia valurile...
Cred ca asa este sa mori...
Adormi, adormi si nu vrei
sa te mai trezesti...
- Sa te legene marea, ti-am zis
si am plecat... dar inca
se zbateau in mine cuvinte fara numar
cuvinte subtiri ca acele de mare
cuvinte sarate ca spuma
cuvinte care-ar fi vrut sa inoate libere,
spre larg...
Iar tu mangaiai valurile,
in somnul tau, in visul tau...



Ce mare fara margini e intre mainile noastre.
Ce hau in vazduhul dintre mine si tine...
Si-o-ntristare se lasa pe umarul meu
ca un soim de vanatoare.
O, daca aripile nu mi-ar fi de ceara,
daca trupul meu n-ar fi greoi si aspru
ca lutul...
daca am fi curati ca pestii in marea cea sferica
si daca fiecare secunda n-ar fi mereu a trecutului...



Ce cauti? Cand privesti in mine
sfasiindu-mi carnea pana la os,
sfasiindu-mi oasele pana la suflet,
cand patrunzi in hatisurile intunecate
bantuite de fiare salbatice
si-nsetate de sange,
ce cauti?
In inima mea doarme
o lupoaica turbata!
Paseste usor, sa nu o trezesti...
Calca pe apele raurilor si nu te opri,
sa nu-ti adulmece urma...
Si dac-ar fi, luptatorule, sa gasesti
cararea firava care te cheama-
-atunci, te rog, ramai...
Ramai...




There are seas of wonders, salted seas
that lay between my heart and yours.
Oh, the dark waters, boiling waters
of magic and enchantement...
You, traveller, don't wander
across the misty waters.
You won't get closer, but
deeper instead.
I myself tried many times
to sail the sea of magic. Your fingertips
did never caress my wandering heart...
Travelled I more into the darkness...