Swanheart

Chapter Nine

Friends and Foes

The day was slowly turning to night. Sending out a few last golden rays, the setting sun slowly disappeared beyond the horizon, leaving the sky for the moon to shine and the countless stars to sparkle.

The small group that was walking through the thick forest, close to Ilumera, never noticed how time passed. Plants, bushes and all the trees around them seemed to glow with a soft, inner light, illuminating their path in the shady darkness of the wood and time appeared to follow other rules here. A gentle wind rustled the leaves now and again. To the humans it seemed as if they were whispering with each other.

They barely made a sound as they moved through the forest. The ground was covered with soft moss, which swallowed the noises, also the clonking of their horses' hooves.

Loredane, the Elven scout, walked a few steps ahead of them, leading the way. His stride was very light and he appeared to be floating along the path. That's at least what Leigh thought as she watched him, because it seemed that his feet were barely touching the ground at all. The other Elves, who had accompanied him when he encountered the women earlier, had disappeared from sight. Loredane had sent them off to tell King Mandylor that his awaited guests had arrived and that they were on their way to Ilumera. They had hurried off quickly and soundlessly, so in tune with nature, indicating that they truly were a part of this forest. No wildlife was disturbed and no flock of birds scattered when the Elves ran off.

Loreen walked right behind her cousin, guiding Sunhair. A change had occurred to the healer. Her whole body radiated great happiness and there was a definite spring in her step. From time to time, when she wasn't wrapped up in a lively conversation with the scout, she would turn around to look for the knight and the princess, and the smile she bestowed upon them was blinding in its brightness.

"Loreen really is happy now that she is walking the land of her mother again, isn't she?" Alannah asked. "And who wouldn't be, in a country like that. By the Spirits, it is so beautiful here. I can't wait until we get to see the heart of Ilumera." She looked over at her best friend when no answer came forward, seeing that she was frowning. "Leigh? Are you alright?"

The knight jerked slightly. "What?"

"I asked if everything is alright. You barely said a word ever since Loredane found us and just now you seemed to be lost in thought. What are you brooding about?"

Leigh cleared her throat. "Uh, I'm sorry, Alannah. There is just a lot on my mind and not much of it makes sense."

"I know what you mean. Something is going on here and Loreen knows more about it than she's letting on."

"My thoughts exactly," Leigh confirmed. "How can King Mandylor await us? Remember? Loredane said that even before Loreen introduced us properly. How could the Elves have known that we are coming?"

"I was thinking about that too," Alannah said. "Maybe Father sent a message ahead with Saberclaw shortly before he left with Ranya and Terrulli for Shircon?"

Leigh shook her head. "Saberclaw was sitting on his pole when they left and he was still there when we departed. That reminds me, your father didn't give us a scroll for the Elven King either."

"It will be fine," the princess responded, waving a hand dismissively. "Everything the Elves need to know we can tell them and we have Father's news from the Council meeting on another scroll. Are you still worried that the Elves won't trust us?"

Leigh stopped and looked at Alannah. "I'm overanalyzing things again, am I not?"

Giving her a gentle smile, the princess nodded. "Yes, but that is how you are and I don't think it's a bad thing. Better be safe than sorry, right?"

"My friends, I know you are tired, but we are almost there. You can rest then," Loredane called out, interrupting them.

"You know what's funny?" Alannah asked while setting one foot in front of the other again.

"What?" Leigh wanted to know.

"Even though we have been walking all day, I'm hardly tired. How late do you think it is?"

"I have no idea, to say the truth. It's hard to tell since we are so deep in the woods where the sun's rays don't reach the ground. As for you not being tired, I think that might have something to do with the water that Loreen gave us earlier. She probably mixed in some herbs."

The princess contemplated the answer. "Now that you say that… the water did have a refreshing, minty taste to it."

Loredane held up a hand then, making them stop in their tracks. "Many years have passed since the last time that a human set foot in Ilumera. You will be the first of your race that King Mandylor allows to enter here. You have nothing to fear if your intensions are of the peaceful kind," the Elven scout announced.

"We come as representatives of the country Chitaan," Alannah replied. "We were sent by my Father, King Zaylan. It is his wish to speak with the King of the Elves and eventually forge a treaty between Chitaan and Ilumera. But I am sure that Loreen told you all that already."

Loredane nodded. "Follow me," he told them. The Elf stepped forward and right through a bush. Loreen was next, followed by Sunhair, and after her came Alannah, guiding Uruth.

Cerulia stood in front of the bush and looked at Leigh.

"What are you waiting for?" the knight asked. "The bush must be some kind of magical illusion to keep unwanted people away."

The wolf cocked her head.

Leigh reached down and patted her white fur. "Go now, I'll be right behind you, I promise." Grabbing the reins of Mican a little tighter, the knight stepped through the bush after Cerulia had disappeared.

On the other side, Leigh stood slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

Bathed in silver moonlight, Ilumera spread out in front of her, bordered by hills and mountains, surrounded by tall trees with mighty trunks. Of course, Loreen had told them all about the place her mother had grown up and the Half-Elf herself had lived for a while, but never in her wildest imaginations had Leigh thought that it would look like that. It was simply breathtaking in its beauty.

"There is no way to describe it," Alannah breathed, just as awed. "I don't think there are words beautiful enough to fit. I can't wait to see it in daylight."

"I agree."

Like Loreen's cabin back in Chitaan, all the houses seemed to blend in with their surroundings. It seemed as if the huts had been built to get accustomed to nature and not the other way around as was usually the case. The faint rushing of a waterfall could be heard, even though it could not be seen from where they stood.

Every few feet a lantern was hanging, illuminating the cobblestone path that lay before them. After a closer inspection they found out that the glass cases harbored mushrooms, which gave off a greenish, white light.

"Have you ever seen anything like that, mushrooms that work like glow-worms?" Leigh inquired.

The princess shook her head. "No, but I have heard of it at the Wizardry Academy. They are not dangerous like the open fire of a torch, but it is hard to grow them in places where they usually don't grow."

"Come on, you two," Loreen called out, waving a hand. "I will give you a tour tomorrow, I promise."

The young women stopped staring and walked over to the healer.

Suddenly, Uruth reared up, kicked his front hooves and a loud, happy neigh erupted from his throat.

Utterly surprised by the white stallion's unusual behavior, Alannah let go of the reins and the horse pranced away. He stopped in front of a man, who came towards them.

Clothed in green-brown robes, he was tall and of slender built like any Elf. His long hair was the color of a midnight sky and it fell over his shoulders. A raindrop-shaped jewel shone from the middle of the silver headband, which crowned his head. He reached out with a hand towards the horse and the stallion placed his head on top of the palm, closing his eyes in contentment. They stood like that for a moment, silently communicating through the gentle touch. The Elf lifted his other arm to stroke Uruth's muzzle before letting go. With graceful steps, he crossed the distance between himself and the newly arrived women.

Uruth followed him.

"As was foreseen, Uruthanos Moonbeam has returned home, bringing our saviors in his wake," the Elf said, smiling. His dark eyes reflected a knowledge and wisdom that didn't go along with the appearance of his face. He must have lived and seen a thousand human lifetimes and more, even though he looked like a man in his early forties. "I am Mandylor, King of the Elves of Ilumera," he introduced himself, bowing respectfully.

Loreen bowed as well and Alannah dropped a curtsey. Only Leigh stood frozen to the spot, staring at the Elven King. All color had drained from her face as if she had seen a ghost.

If Mandylor noticed, he didn't let on. "It is an honor to welcome you, Wolfheart and Swanheart. And look, who else has returned, a long lost daughter of our country. It is a pleasure to see you again, Loreen, daughter of Eriatha."

Loreen bowed again. "The pleasure is mine, King Mandylor."

"Come along to my house. Eat, drink and rest. You must be tired after your long journey on horseback. There were quite some miles you had to cover from Chitaan to arrive here. Loredane will make sure that your horses are being taken well care of, they must rest as well."

The Elf in question took the reins of Sunhair and Mican, leading them to the stables. Uruth followed him on his own.

"What about Cerulia?" Alannah inquired. "Can she come with us?"

"Yes, Wolfheart, you will not have to part from her," Mandylor answered. "Come along now."

"That was a strange little greeting speech the Elven King gave," Alannah muttered, walking next to Leigh as they followed the king to his house. "What saviors is he talking about? Why is he calling Uruth, you and me by different names? And what do you think he meant with Uruth returning home? He is almost acting as if Father's horse belongs to him."

"I have seen King Mandylor before," the knight admitted unexpectedly. "And Uruth does belong to him. Well, at least he did once."

*****

His white robes blowing behind him, High Councilor Ciem hastened through the corridors to his chambers. If anybody saw him, they would have wondered why the old man was in such a hurry. His long white hair was even more unkempt than usual and his gaunt face reflected fear. Dark circles were under his eyes, which looked around cautiously and suspiciously. More than once, he glanced over his shoulder, ensuring that nobody followed him or was lurking behind one of the marble columns that lined the corridors. A tiny sigh of relief escaped his chest as he saw the door to his chambers.

Quickly stepping inside, he locked and bolted it behind him. Ciem leaned back against the nut-brown, polished wood and closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling sharply. "He is not going to like what I have to tell him," he mumbled nervously under his breath.

It was dark in the room. Only faint light fell through the tiny window, a fact that didn't bother the High Councilor much, because he despised the sunlight. He felt more comfortable in the gray light of dusk or the warm glow of candles. Fire had always fascinated him greatly as a boy and now that he had reached the age of a wise, old man, he found himself still attracted to the flickering of flames. As a young man, he had undertaken several journeys through all the magical countries of Yuron, but none had he liked as much as Urdgard, the land of fire.

His eyes opened again. Ciem snapped his fingers and uttered a single word. Immediately, two torches burst to life, bathing the room in dancing light. The interior of the High Councilor's chambers was sparse, since it was just a place to sleep or retreat for a while. There was a simple bed in one corner of the rectangular room, a small desk with a chair right under the window and a little bookcase that held a few selected works of poetry and magical spells. Shircon had the largest library in all of Yuron, so if studies needed to be done, he could do it there.

Ciem's gaze traveled to something that stood in another corner, opposite his bed. It was leaning against the bare wall. The black, velvet cloth, which covered it, only revealed that the object had an oval shape and was about five feet high. If any of the other High Councilors knew what he had in his possession, his life would be forfeit. Slowly walking towards it, Ciem swallowed hard. Yes, he knew that he was playing with fire and as usual it had him enthralled, even though it was a dangerous game. There was no turning back now. The bargain had been made and it was his turn to deliver.

He stopped right in front of the object. Ciem's hand was surprisingly steady as his arm came up and reached forward to grasp the heavy sheet, though the rest of his body quivered slightly and strange shivers raced along his back.

The black velvet felt soft and cool on his fingertips, and he slowly pulled the material away. Soundlessly, it fell to the floor and the concealed object that had been hiding under it became visible. It was a huge mirror. The ebony frame was adorned by artful carvings, showing the heads of crows and demonic faces. Runes and signs of a long forgotten and forbidden language gleamed on the frame in a faint red light around the mirror glass. Even though the High Councilor was standing directly in front of it, his image wasn't reflected. The murky, white surface showed nothing.

Spreading his fingers, Ciem placed both palms flat on the mirror. His eyes closed briefly and he shuddered as the coldness of the glass sank into his body. Words fell from his lips in a low, monotone voice as he began to chant. Red light appeared in thin lines all over the surface, forking and spreading out until the mirror's surface glowed brightly. Faint crackling could be heard, tongues of fire shot out and wrapped around the old man's frame, licking greedily on his robes without burning them. His eyes wide open, Ciem stared into the mirror, seeing a sea of wavering, swirling and twisting flames. "Master, hear me!" he cried out.

"I hear you, my trusty servant," a hissing voice answered from the mirror, but no face was to be seen.

The High Councilor cringed a bit as the sound reached his ears. He thought he would never get used to it. It made his blood curl and coldness spread through his body, making his inside turn to ice.

"What news do you bring?"

"I fear it will not be expedient to our course, Master," Ciem replied reluctantly, licking his lips nervously.

"I will be the judge of that! Now speak and stop your sniveling!" There was a timbre of annoyance in the voice.

"The magical rulers of Yuron have met with the High Council…"

"I know all that, you already told me that there would be a meeting," the bodiless voice hissed impatiently. "What came of it?"

The trembling of his knees increased and it took all of Ciem's willpower not to stutter as he announced, "They know that several magic countries got attacked. King Zaylan, ruler of Chitaan, is determined to forge alliances with the non-magical countries…"

Again the High Councilor was interrupted. Patience clearly was not one of his Master's strong suits. His face contorted in pain as the cold laughter rang out, piercing his ears. "The non-magical countries… you cannot seriously be worried about those worms. They are nothing but mere bugs to be squashed under my boot! Pesky, little flies that will be crushed in my fists! They pose no threat to our new world! Do they even have the slightest idea who is behind the attacks? Do they know what enemy they are facing?"

"No Master, they don't have a clue as of yet. But word has traveled of the High Sorceress Tanith's abduction and they wonder about High Sorcerer Krymm. King Zaylan and High Sorceress Ranya want to pay Kentaara a visit."

"Good, let them. All they will find is destruction. The High Sorcerer of the stone country is no more and the gemstone, which he guarded, is in our hands. Is that all you have to tell me? I should punish you for wasting my precious time with your silly worries!"

Hurriedly, Ciem sank to his knees, raising his hands in a pleading gesture. "No, Master! Wait! There is more!"

"Speak!" the voice thundered and the flames in the mirror flared up, swirling in a brighter red.

"The Elves," Ciem blurted hysterically, his eyes wild. "The High Council allows them to involve the Elves of Ilumera! I don't know when they are going to contact them. I guess it will be soon..."

The voice chuckled, greatly amused. "The Pointy Ears, I was waiting for them. Excellent warriors they are. It will be interesting to see if the humans can convince them to join them in battle. It was so easy to plant the seed of distrust in the human hearts and it prospered and thrived. Not many of them will like it should the Elves begin to meddle in their affairs."

"But Master, are you not concerned about the prophecy and that your plans might fail?" Ciem inquired cautiously.

"No, you fool! Prophecies have been made to keep mankind under control, especially those, who are too stupid to think for themselves. They cower in fear, wailing, scared of some silly words! All of that works in my favor and my plans won't fail!"

"Forgive my frankness, Master. It wasn't my intension to doubt you." Ciem lowered his head until his forehead touched the floor in humility. He jerked up in surprise as somebody knocked on his door.

"High Councilor Ciem, I know that you are in there! Open the door!" It was High Councilor Naphtalon.

"A friend of yours?" the voice asked.

"One moment please!" Ciem called out, hoping that he didn't sound as shrill to Naphtalon as he did to himself.

Muffled noises and the clanking of metal could be heard. Naphtalon was accompanied by a troop of guards. "Open the door now!"

"It seems that they are on to you, my spy," the voice hissed unpleasantly.

"No… no… no…" Ciem whined, his eyes darting wildly around as he held on tightly to the mirror's frame. "Master, I beg you, protect me! Don't let them get me!"

"Break it down!" Naphtalon ordered. Several armored men threw themselves against the door, trying to shoulder it open.

With each heavy thump that came from the door, Ciem pressed his body tighter to the mirror glass, trying to crawl inside and disappear. "Master, don't let them get me… don't let them get me." He repeated these words over and over. They fell from his lips like a magical chant.

"They won't get you, my trusty servant. I will take care of you," the bodiless voice said lovingly, flattering.

It was the last thing Ciem heard, before his world turned red and the flames, which had until that point caressed his frame, consumed him.

The door's wood cracked and splintered as High Councilor Naphtalon, accompanied by six guards, burst into the room. Two torches were still burning on the wall.

Choking, the men covered their mouths and noses at the stench of burnt flesh that hung in the air. "By the Spirits," one gasped, between retching and spitting.

"Good gracious, what happened here?" another asked, crossing over to the window to open it.

Slowly, the horrible stench was replaced by fresh air drifting into the chambers.

Naphtalon's face didn't betray any emotion. His eyes traveled from the small pile of ash in the middle of the room to the big mirror that leaned against the wall. The glass had turned a murky white again, the surface reflecting nothing. "As I assumed, we had a traitor right in our mid," the High Councilor stated. "Don't touch anything," he admonished as he caught movement from the corner of his eyes. One of the guards had stepped closer to the mirror, obviously fascinated by the faint glowing of the runes on its frame. Naphtalon picked up the black sheet and quickly covered the mirror. "Apparently, High Councilor Ciem was dealing with dark magic and he paid a high price. In the end, he left us with a hint, this strange mirror. Maybe now we will be able to figure out what exactly is going on in Yuron and what dangerous threat we are facing. Inform High Councilor Arida immediately. She should have a look at this."

"As you wish," the man closest to the door said and ran off to fetch the wise crone.

*****

Alannah looked at the knight, greatly confused. Her statement had come as a surprise. "Leigh, what are you talking about? How can you have met the Elven King before? You have never been here."

"I know, but I am positive that Mandylor gave Uruth to your father so that we could ride back to Chitaan after the…" Her voice broke and she had to swallow hard for her throat had gone dry.

The princess took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You mean when you were four and came to live with us?"

Leigh nodded. "Yes." In her mind's eye, she could see the scene clearly. She was sure that it wasn't a dream but a memory.

"Would you like to tell me about it?" Alannah inquired softly. Until now, she had always thought that Leigh had been too young to remember much of that time. "You know, you don't have to if it is too painful."

Leigh shook her head. "It's alright. I don't remember much, just a few snippets here and there and most of it is foggy at best. I had all forgotten about this incident until I saw Mandylor. It happened after we left from the battlefield and we were on our way to Chitaan."

"Run, Shadowchaser, run like you never did before!" Zaylan urged the heavily panting, black stallion that galloped like the wind over the plains. He was bending low over the horse's neck. One hand held on tightly to the reins while the other had a strong grip on the small girl that was attached to his side, her tiny arms clinging to the straps of his armor.

The wind blew his long silver hair out of his face and he could clearly see the outskirts of the forest in front of him.

"Come on, my friend," he shouted to the horse to be heard over the howling of the wind. "Only a few more meters then we will be safe."

Shadowchaser increased the speed of his walk once more, the thundering of his hooves echoing through the night.

Unfortunately, the enemy was still behind them and they were closing in. An arrow zipped past Zaylan's ear and it was soon followed by others. "Damn it! How can they see so well in this pitch black darkness?"

Any further thoughts were stopped as the horse shrieked in pain and stumbled. An arrow had pierced its right flank and stuck deep in the flesh. The poison that covered its barbed metal tip quickly spread. Shadowchaser's gait became more and more uncoordinated and after a few further steps, the black stallion broke down.

Zaylan was thrown off, but he had managed to fall on his back, keeping the child he held safe from injury His armor had absorbed most of the fall, protecting him from seriously getting hurt. Groaning, the King scrambled to his feet, tightening his grip on Leigh. He felt anger and sadness burn in his guts as he regarded Shadowchaser, who lay on the ground, blood trickling from his nostrils. The stallion took his final few, rattling breaths before his chest stopped moving.

"We will see each other in the Different World, my friend," Zaylan promised, running his hand one last time over the horse's head. Then he picked up Leigh and dashed into the forest, hoping to lose their enemies in the thick undergrowth.

Hours passed while they wandered through the wood. Zaylan had lost all track of time but there also had not been anymore sign of the soldiers that had been chasing them. Stubbornly placing one foot in front of the other, the king marched on.

Leigh had fallen asleep in his arms, her head pillowed on his shoulder. He was glad for that. Soon enough, the little girl would ask questions, inquiring about her parents and when they would go home. His mind was working feverishly, trying to come up with answers to the questions he dreaded already.

As his legs were cramping and feeling like lead, he decided it was time for a rest. He slowly lowered his frame to the soft moss and gingerly leaned his back against a fallen log that lay there.

Leigh woke up, but he held her on his lap, soothing her back to sleep. He rocked her and gently stroked a hand through her long, blonde hair while softly humming a lullaby, which his wife used to sing to Alannah.

Zaylan took off the green cloak that was attached to the back of his armor and wrapped it around the girl's frame. "It will be alright, Leigh. We will be home soon," he whispered, as much for himself as for the girl's benefit.

Though he had only meant to rest for a brief moment, a strong wave of exhaustion overcame him. His eyes closed of their own accord and he fell asleep.

Zaylan jerked awake, his hand reaching immediately for his sword, but it was no longer in its scabbard. His ears picked up a faint rustling. It came from every direction. He was surrounded. "So, this is the end," he mumbled to himself. "Many have died and now it's my turn."

"Never fear, good man," a gentle voice told him. It was strangely melodic. "It is not your time to die yet."

Zaylan whirled around, his eyes searching for the one who had spoken. "Who are you? Please, leave us alone. I am unarmed and this child doesn't pose a threat. We were just taking a break. We will be on our way immediately. I am sorry if we trespassed on any territory we should not be. I lost my horse but I don't know if we lost the ones who were chasing us…"

"Yes, you are a long way from home, King Zaylan of Chitaan."

Zaylan blinked in surprise. "How do you know me?"

"The cloak that is wrapped around the child bears a swan with spread wings, the symbol of Chitaan. The adorned armor and the crown on your head reveal to me your identity. Besides, we were told of your coming."

The king was still scanning his surroundings for the speaker. "Who told you?"

"It was foreseen." Zaylan's mouth gaped open as an Elf stepped from behind a tree. Five others drew back the hoods of their cloaks and showed themselves.

Leigh held on tightly to Zaylan's neck, eyeing the strangers curiously."They have pointy ears," she whispered fascinated.

The first Elf raised his hands in a calming gesture. "Do not burden your heart with further concerns, King Zaylan. We are not your foes. You are safe as is the child in your arms."

"Who are you? I know that you are Elves but…"

"You wish to know my name?"

Zaylan nodded. "After all, you know mine."

A smile graced the Elf's lips, giving it an even gentler expression. "My name is Mandylor. I am the King of Ilumera."

"It is an honor to meet you," Zaylan responded and bowed.

"The honor is mine and we shall meet again in times of need," Mandylor said. "Now, you have to leave. Here, take this as our parting gift."

One of the Elves walked towards them, guiding a white stallion.

"His name is Uruthanos Moonbeam. You may call him Uruth. He will carry you home," King Mandylor explained, placing the reins into Zaylan's hands.

"It is such a beautiful horse. I can't take it even though it honors me greatly."

Mandylor shook his head. "The soldiers that were chasing you have not given up. We will divert them."

Reluctantly, Zaylan climbed into the saddle. "Thank you, thank you so much."

Mandylor placed a hand over his heart. "There is no need for that. Ride now." The Elven King picked up Leigh and looked deeply into her green eyes. "We shall meet again too, Swanheart, as the stars foretold."

"That is interesting," Alannah commented after Leigh had finished the story. "I wonder why Father never mentioned anything about meeting King Mandylor before. Why were these soldiers still after you? I thought a peace treaty had been forged with the new leader then? I guess there are always evil ones that never give up, huh?"

"Yeah," Leigh replied.

The one word answer told the princess that her best friend was brooding again. "What are you thinking?"

"The King called me Swanheart, just like he did on our first meeting. I wonder what it means."

Alannah nodded. "Yes, that's really weird. He called me Wolfheart. I hope we will get answers to all our questions. I sure have a few."

"Me too," Leigh stated.

*****

Tiredly, High Councilor Arida pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed deeply. "I still can't believe it. Even though I saw it with my own eyes, it seems so unreal."

She and Naphtalon were sitting in her study, having a cup of tea after the shock and horror they had witnessed in the chamber of High Councilor Ciem, who had passed away.

"I know exactly how you feel. I have a hard time believing it myself," Naphtalon admitted, leaning back into the soft pillows of a very comfortable couch. He guided the cup to his lips and took a big swallow of the hot, steaming, amber-colored fluid. "But there is no doubt," he continued. "Ciem was in cohorts with the darkness and he paid with his life for it."

"How long do you think it will take until the runes on the mirror are translated?"

"I set a team of the land's best linguists on the case. They will let us know as soon as they have found out something. It might take a few days."

Silently, the crone sipped her tea, contemplating everything she had seen after she had been called to Ciem's chambers. Shivers had raced over her back and the tiny hairs on the nape of her neck had risen as she had regarded the strange mirror with its horrifying carvings, glowing runes and symbols. "Why did it take so long for us to realize and see what was going on?" Arida asked. "I can't say that I noticed something different about High Councilor Ciem. He was always a bit eccentric and gruff. I thought his unkempt appearance stemmed from sleeping problems that he did tell me about and now we find out that he was actually worshipping the dark arts. When did it start? How was he able to smuggle that accursed mirror into his room?"

"There are so many questions. What demon did he worship? What kind of work did he do for his dark master? How much did he reveal to him? And the most prominent one would be why did he do it? What had he been promised in exchange for his service?" Naphtalon put his empty teacup on the low table in front of him. "I fear that these are questions to which we may never know the answers. My guess is that he had the mirror for a while before he confessed to you about any so-called sleeping problems."

Arida nodded in agreement. "That makes sense. Now, we also have an explanation why he acted like he did during the last council meeting. I have to admit that I am more than glad for King Zaylan's insistence about involving the non-magical countries and the Elves. They might be our last chance. Thank you for making the right decision in this matter. Your level-headedness saved us. I feel like a foolish, old woman." She laughed as soon as she had spoken the words. "I guess that is exactly what I am."

Naphtalon smiled and reached over to pat one of her wrinkled hands. "You are welcome. After all, we are just humans and we do make mistakes. None is without flaw. May the Spirits give it that my decision was the right one and that our world will come out of this unharmed, though I am afraid it will get worse before it will get better. Wars and battles are ahead, many will die. If King Zaylan and the others aren't successful…"

"No, don't say it," Arida interrupted him quickly. "We have to think positive."

Naphtalon raised an eyebrow and smirked, an expression that was mostly uncommon for him. "Forgive me, my dear, but we are High Councilors. Shouldn't we be neutral?" he asked.

The crone gave him a small smile. "I think we can make an exception in that case."

*****

"It's been a few days since all of them have been gone," Wyan said around a mouthful of porridge. "I wonder when we will get news about what's going on."

"Next time, take the spoon out of your mouth before you speak so I might be able to understand what you are mumbling," Ranib replied. The brothers were sitting on a wooden bench in one corner of Goran's kitchen, having breakfast. "It's a pretty annoying habit of yours, like Mother told you several times before."

Wyan scooped up a spoonful of porridge and was about to throw it at his brother, when a gruff male voice exclaimed from behind him, "Don't you dare mess up my kitchen floor or I'll have you clean it with a toothbrush, lad!"

Smiling as sweetly as he could, Wyan turned around, facing the glaring cook.

He was a small man with a round belly, bald-headed, had a moustache like a walrus, and it did hurt a lot if the wooden spoon, which he held, connected with one's head or other body parts. Wyan could tell a tale of that from his youth and he also remembered many times of sucking his bruised knuckles after Goran had caught him stealing cookies and thwacked his hands with said spoon.

"I wasn't about to do anything," Wyan swore.

"Of course you weren't, because you are such a good boy," the cook replied sarcastically, his heavy moustache wiggling up and down. "Let me tell you something, lad. Just because you have seen a bit more than thirty summers, it doesn't mean that you are too old for a spanking, or for me to send your mother on you if you misbehave," Goran huffed, winked and returned to his steaming pots and pans.

Wyan grinned and Ranib snickered into his bowl. They knew that it was all just good-natured teasing. "No matter how old he gets, he is still a lot of fun. Now, back to my original question before you called me on my eating habits, dear brother, when do you think we will get news?"

Ranib shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea. Be patient."

"I knew you were going to say that." Wyan exhaled sharply. "Are you not curious at all?"

"Of course I am. I'm just doing a better job at hiding it than you do."

They were interrupted as a little creature with red fur raced over the kitchen floor towards their table. It climbed up the furniture's leg and stopped between the porridge bowls. Sitting up on his hind legs, the squirrel looked at the men and made severe chiding noises. His small body quaked and he waved his front paws in exasperation.

"Rubyoh, by the Spirits, what's gotten into you? Why are you in such an uproar?" Wyan asked. He held out a hand to the squirrel that quickly climbed up his arm and settled on his shoulder, his tiny, black claws digging into the man's shirt. Looking over at his brother, Wyan inquired, "Do you think he's missing Mother?"

Ranib shook his head. "I don't think that's the reason. He is either pretty scared or angry about something. From the way he acts, I think it's the last. We should go and see if anything is wrong with his nest or so. Maybe there is another animal that built a nest in Rubyoh's tree. You know that our little friend is quite picky about his neighbors. It was a wonder that he allowed this blackbird couple to nest there."

Wyan reached up with a hand and rubbed his fingertips over Rubyoh's head. "Is that what's wrong, buddy? Is someone trying to intrude on your home? Let's go and check out your tree."

Together they went to the tall oak that grew not too far away from Loreen's cabin.

Wyan plucked Rubyoh off his shoulder and gave him to his brother. His eyes traveled up the tree trunk. Between, branches, twigs and leaves, he found the source of the squirrel's problem. "It seems you were right," he said. "Some bird built its nest up there and it's close to Rubyoh's. The bird is sitting in there. It looks like a magpie."

"Maybe you can try and get Rubyoh's nest down," Ranib answered. "There are other trees or we set it up in a cozy corner in Mother's hut."

Wyan grinned. "No problem." Dexterously, he climbed up the tree. Using his strong arms and legs, it didn't take him long to reach the bird's nest. "It really is a magpie," he called down. "It's a bit thin and its feathers are all disheveled. It appears to have been through a lot."

"Just leave it alone and let it rest. Get Rubyoh's nest and come back down."

There were only a few inches between the man and the bird, but the magpie kept sitting there, looking at him with her black button eyes.

"Interesting," Wyan stated. "It doesn't seem scared of me at all. It appears to be used to people. I wonder where it came from." While the man was still pondering, he climbed past the magpie's nest and reached for Rubyoh's. He took the creation that was made out of moss, tiny twigs, dry stalks and other materials and stuffed it carefully down the front of his shirt. He gasped as something hard and cold fell out of the nest's opening and came to rest against his bare stomach.

"What's wrong?" Ranib wanted to know. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Something just fell out of Rubyoh's nest. It felt like a piece of ice."

Ranib chuckled. "Come back down, you goofball."

Once more, Wyan was face to face with the magpie. A corner of brown parchment caught his eye. It peeked out from under the bird's black and white feathers. Frowning, he called down, "Have you ever heard of magpies collecting other stuff besides shiny objects?"

"No. Why?"

"This one here is sitting on a scroll."

"Are you kidding?" Ranib drew his eyebrows together.

"No. Let me see if I can get it." Holding on to a branch with one hand, Wyan reached for the parchment with his other hand and carefully pulled it from under the bird, cooing and talking to her in a soft voice. He had freed it halfway as her beak pierced his hand, drawing blood. Cursing loudly, Wyan tucked harder at the scroll. He almost lost his balance as the bird attacked him again, using her claws, and his descent wasn't as graceful, half sliding and half falling from the tree. His muscled body hit the ground with a thump and he groaned in pain.

Ranib helped him back to his feet. "What did you do?"

"The bird pecked me as you can see." Wyan snarled, plucking twigs and leaves from his hair and clothes. He gave the crumpled parchment to his brother, before reaching into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a handkerchief, which he wrapped scantily around his bleeding hand.

"Let's see if Mother has a better bandage in her cabin," Ranib said.

As soon as they were inside Loreen's hut, Rubyoh jumped off his shoulder and sat down on the table. Curiously, he sniffed at the scroll that Ranib had placed there before he went searching for the ointment that would stop the bleeding and a clean bandage. The smell of the parchment didn't appeal to the squirrel and he scurried off, climbing up the curtain that parted the bedroom from the living area. There he sat on the pole, watching the men.

Ranib returned with the necessary items and wrapped up his brother's hand. "Why couldn't you just leave the bird alone?"

Not bothering to answer, Wyan reached for the scroll.

Ranib was quicker and intercepted him. "You got blood all over it," he remarked, pointing at the dark brown stains.

"No, that's dried blood, it was already there," Wyan argued.

"You are right," his brother said after looking at it more closely. Smoothing the parchment on the table, Ranib began to read. His eyes widened as they flitted over the text. "Do you know what this is? It's a formal invitation to the meeting with the High Council in Shircon."

"What?" Wyan exclaimed surprised.

"This one was for High Sorcerer Krymm of Kentaara. It's the same letter that King Zaylan and the others got," Ranib explained further.

"What's a magpie doing with an invitation letter from the High Council? The bird can't be the messenger, because the meeting started days ago. Maybe it was after all and that's why it looks so run-down. I guess it flew the wrong way and is now taking a break on its way to Kentaara." Wyan announced.

Ranib shook his head. "I don't think so. The messenger birds never fly wrong."

"Well, there is a first time for everything, right?" Wyan responded and reached into his shirt to get out Rubyoh's nest. He had almost forgotten about it. Placing it on the table, he complained, "By Ossyr, how can he sleep in that? It itches like crazy." The squirrel's home looked a bit battered, but it was nothing that Rubyoh wouldn't be able to fix later.

Stuffing his hand once more down his shirt, Wyan produced the object that had fallen out of the nest. Dumbfounded, he stared at the gemstone that he held between his fingers. The light blue, irregular-shaped jewel glowed faintly. At first he was unable to say anything. Then realization of what he was holding sank in. "Uh… Ranib…" he finally stuttered confused. "Do you think… can you… do you know what this is?"

Ranib was just as shocked as he beheld the gem in his brother's hand. "I've only seen pictures of it during studies. It's Ashkyhra's piece of Asram's Stone of Creation…" he whispered, standing frozen to the spot, his eyes fixed to the jewel.

"That's what I was afraid of," Wyan said, trying to keep the panic from being audible in his voice. "What are we going to do now? We found a bloodstained scroll that was meant for the High Sorcerer of Kentaara and a sacred gemstone. In the name of the Spirits, how did it end up in Rubyoh's nest? Do you think Terrulli hid it there? I mean, it must be from her since she is from Ashkyhra and her parents were its keepers."

"I don't think that Terrulli even knew she had it, otherwise she would have said something about it. Rubyoh must have found it and carried it off to his nest, probably thinking that it was a nut," Ranib answered and picked up a small linen bag from a shelf. Carefully, he took the jewel and placed it inside. Tying the string, he said, "We will hide it all in the chest, under Mother's bed. It will be safe there until King Zaylan returns."

Together they pulled out the chest. It was made of hard oak wood, which had been strengthened by metal fittings. The lock was undone. Opening the lid, Ranib declared, "It will be best if we keep any knowledge of this to ourselves. The less people know, the better it is." He placed the scroll and the linen bag inside the chest.

Wyan nodded. "I think you're right. I hope our King comes home soon. A lost bird, a bloody scroll and a sacred gemstone, do you think there is a connection somewhere?"

"Certainly," Ranib replied, "and we will get to the bottom of it."

They closed the lid and the lock snapped shut. Only the key in Loreen's possession could open it again.

*****

Continued...