LXI. Already upon the first day after the tumult in Hebrom, throngs of guards made their rounds along the roads, and questioned all manner of folks, tall or short, slim or stout, foreign or not. And ever wary, their eyes were keen for any strangers traveling the thoroughfare. But little did they know that Edwald and his fellowship had long forsaken the road. They fared upon the wild lands, where there was neither farm nor shire. Up and down the slopes they went, living off whatever nature put before them, rabbit for breakfast, beaver for luncheon, and chipmunks for supper, and every now and then they would come about a lonely deer that lost its way from the woods, which—with any luck and stealth—they would feast on. For a day and a half they roamed from woods to fields and towards the rising sun until on the night of the last, they caught sight of the Oenic Forest which widened up on the skyline like a hoard of trees charging towards them.

Soon, the sun rose from sleep and beneath its wintry light, they saw the secret thoroughfare, whereof sir Hans had spoken before. It was little more than a lane, whereupon much grass and moss had grown, for it was indeed only known to few, and otherwise forlorn by maps and books. At the sight of that byroad, a shadow went over sir Hans and something ached within him that stopped his pace and strides.

-“I have seen a ghost,” sir Hans said, “For we are nigh the site of lord Hadril’s demise. Over there, beyond those trees upon the third hour lies a place of dread and doom that gods have damned of new.”

-“Take courage, sir Hans” Edwald comforted him, “there is much still to be done. But, don’t let the shadows of sadness past haunt you any more. It will do you no good. Come now along.”

And the Knight did as was bid and kept his bearing for the most part, and still Edwald had failed to ease his heart, for the closer they got to that ‘place of dread’, the greater the pain in his soul. And what were one proud strides waned into a sorry saunter and many times Edwald or Hank had to pull him by his wrists to not leave him behind. So they went on, until trees cast their shades all about them and upon the third hour—just as sir Hans had foretold—they came to the site where Lord Hadril and his family had been slaughtered. There was a thick haze in the air and far above grey shadows turned up unannounced, and though many weeks had passed and the dead had long been buried, there were still some wreckages of the convoy of the late Sovarós and ghosts roamed about them that whispered laments and dirges to the ears of all. Even as they wandered by this gloomy site, an awful grief took hold of sir Hans and feeling the load of memory rolling down his back he fell to his knees and wept as one mortally hurt.

-“Alas for lord Hadril!” he whined, “Alas for his kin and heir! The days have grown dark and grey. Alas for me, for I would gladly have shared in their fate, had I remained by his side. Ever will I rue that day, and his ghost will haunt me until I avenge him.”

Edwald bore witness to this, and though he wished to solace him, little could his words do against his heartache. He gave him time to mourn his master and his tears fell frozen on the ground, upon the very spot where he had once held the body of his liege-lord, and it seemed to him that soil had been hallowed, for a dim light was set upon him and it did not dwindle while they lingered there. Then he turned again to sir Hans.

-“Arise, sir Hans,” he said, “Let lord Hadril sleep, so he may find rest in death.”

-“He will not,” sir Hans parried him with the tongue; “So long as Carathuel breathes he will not rest in peace.”

-“That may be so,” Edwald replied, “But I doubt lord Hadril would have you grieve forever. You must gather your strength, for we might yet be in time to find sir Antuel, and were he alive today, your master would bid you to go on with this quest.” Sir Hans saw the wisdom in his speech and wailing no more he stood up and said.

-“You are right, my lord” he said, “I can protect him no more, but I might defend the heirs of his blood.” He looked around and sought for hints and clues as if swimming in a tempest of memories which he had not dared revisit. “Here we are at last,” he said, “Here they were butchered, Lord Hadril, his wife, his daughter and his sister lady Eōlin travelled by carriage, in the front of the convoy, sir Carth, Anio and sir Antuel fared on horse, and I kept my watch affront them. Our men were about us and behind went another two wains which were guarded by lord Carathuel’s men. Right here where I’m standing I held my master’s corpse, lady Arlys’ was over there and her daughter’s next to hers. About those trees, I found sir Carth, sir Anio and his sister. But sir Antuel’s I could not find. I have done, as I was bidden, yet would it that you have some magic with you, we cannot know where he might roam.”

At hearing this Edwald and Asadue shared twinkled looks, and Hank even laughed, but sir Hans was stern and crossed as one that had been insulted to his face.

-“Do I amuse you, master Hank?” he asked, “This is neither the time nor the place to be jolly.”

-“We do not wish to taunt you, sir Hans” answered Asadue, “But it so happens that we do have some magic with us.”

For a moment, sir Hans thought he had been mocked and before he could speak again, Edwald unsheathed his sword. At first, he thought he had been betrayed and that he had been brought there to die. Feeling threatened by the bared steel, sir Hans was about to do the same, but then he saw Edwald close his eyes, as if praying, and he bent his whole mind and thought on his blade, and suddenly it began to glow silver clear like a star and he was shocked.

-“What devilry is this?” he said, “You did not say I would deal with witchcraft. Are you a fiend of some sort, or else a herald of the Omynous?”

-“I am neither,” said Edwald, now his eyes were wide opened and a light flickered gold within them. “This sword is a gift from the dwarves, and it has the power to show what lies hidden and guides the way to truth. It was by this same power that we came about you, and the sword has not failed us so far. It was by our design that we would come here and wield its magic once more so it may lead us to sir Antuel.”

Sir Hans had not wholly bought this premise, he stood there in silence as Edwald asked again and Oakenjaw replied with bold swings and blows, until its aim was clear and it pointed towards the west. They followed the guiding blade and upon hours they came out of the woods, the shires were wide and white before them and they walked by the eaves of the forest, never loosing sight of the sun. Soon the land began to slant slightly up, and to their wonder, the trees about them were still crowned by some leaves of red and gold, daring bravely the wintry winds, unyealding to the cold and it seemed to them that birds still entuned their song, even though they had no sight of them, but rabbits and squirrels were seen living quietly beneath the hanging boughs and twigs. Before long they came about a place that split the woods in two. There the trees seemed to kneel, as if bowing down to a travelling king, and oaks and maples embraced each other, forming archs along the way. Beneath their shades, white columns, pale as bones, grew tall amidst the trees that enringed a solemn fane that mingled gracefully with the evergreens.

That place seemed fair and fey, as if taken out from a dream, and sir Hans was shocked again that the blade would lead them thither.

-“Gods be good, your magic is true!” he said, “For it has brought us to the very place the convoy had made its journey to. At last, we are come to Locht Nelbáris, the Passing of the Elves. But it seems that a shadow has taken hold of it, for now visions haunt me, of the things that might have been, had lord Hadril not been betrayed ere coming here.”

As he said this, Edwald looked about, searching for any threat that might come their way, yet his eyes were bound to the pillars that had been wrought with great might. Then he noticed a sign that was engraved upon the portal that led to the woods. Clear as glass it shone under the sun and was chiselled with skill and arts that were not yet known by men. Upon the stone words were carved that read:

Poem of Locht Nelbáris [https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/928675464401281116/1112313434114109470/Poem_of_Locht_Nelbaris.jpeg]

Edwald beheld with awe those runes, but though he was learned in many tongues of men and other races, he was amazed that he could not make sense of them. Yet he had Asadue by his side, and he was sage and knowledgeful, so when Edwald asked him wherefor they stood, he said back to him.

-“I have come about many scrolls about the old kindred of the Nehlves while I read of your grandsire’s war, my pupil,” he said, “What we know as elves are but a lesser offspring of the Ennard houses. While scholars refused to look into the deeper histories that did not write from the minds of men, I drowned myself in the lore of the Elder Ones, though few passages there were in your libraries or in the archives of the Old City, I amassed as much knowledge as I could. In my studies, I have discovered that the Woodenrealm of the Elves lord Urme overcame was but a vassal of a larger kingdom which belonged to the Nehlves of the north in days of yore. They all spoke the same tongue though the ones in the Oenic Forest had a variation of their own. And so I gather that these words hewn on stone may read:

Hem myr loucht

Ceirn hya londh,

Gleihyand ul deor,

Beanyand gymondh.

“There aren’t many books that tell much of their language, but in what little I could find, I made sense of much of it, from the tongue of the Nehlves whereon, Elvish is based. In the common speech, these lines go something like this:

Here in the Passing

The Heart finds rest,

All Tears are cleansed

And Memories blest.

“It seems to be a prayer of their lore, and also a warning of some sort. I sense in these words a bequest long forgotten and yet filled with power that peers with that of the dwarves. I would advice you, to go gently and keep your sword by your side. Though the elves are long passed, I feel their spirits may still linger here, hidden beneath the shades of trees.”

-“The elves are all dead,” said Sir Hans, “Many times I have been here with my late liege and never have we seen their wraiths. But, at least one we may find. As we have heard back in Hebrom that funny guard, Rolt, mentioned that people that came about this woods saw the likeness of lord Hadril beneath the trees. Should there be any truth to what he said, that must be sir Antuel, and he must have found his way hither.”

-“I have asked the sword” Edwald said, “And this is what it’s shown me. Like it did before with you, sir Hans, the blade did not show you what I asked for right away, but it led us to you, and you have played your part well. I say we must go into the woods and do the sword’s bidding; we might yet find him here.”

Leaving no time for doubts they passed the portal and ventured into the deeper woods. The path that lay before them was forlorn and mossed as if claimed back by the green bed about it, and the trees on either side grew tall and stout, soaring proud above their eyes, and there the air was heavier to breathe but not less clear, as if filled with scents they had never smelled before. Soon, they could no longer follow the road, for it became buried under grass, and only the archway of trees served them as guide. They went on for a few hours until they could see another fane, in the likeness of the one they had just left behind, yet it was far grander and more fey, with roofs of golden leaves held like tiles above by a ring of colonnades, and the trunks of trees about them had been fashioned after the guise of solemn warriors of the elven race, which names had been forgotten in the tales of men. As they came to that place, the silver glow the sword had displayed smouldered away, until only its bare steel was left to see again.

Amidst the hazing breath of the trees, sir Hans was certain to have seen figures moving behind the bushes and thickets, watching him with wary eyes from the shadows, and he was afraid.

-“Gods be good to me!” he said, “We shouldn’t be here, this is the place my master used to pray in, and those who do not share his blood are forbidden to come in. We should go back, while there is time, or else, who knows what danger might befall us here.”

-“We will not retreat now,” Edwald said, “The blade has brought hither, and answers we must get before we part.”

Presently, Edwald, who was the bravest among them stepped forth and entered into the shrine. It seemed long forsaken, not a soul seem to dwell inside and there many runes were carved on the floor and ceiling, but these Asadue could not read, for he said, they went beyond his understanding. In the middle of the fane there was a table made out of stone or rather hewn out from the bed of the earth and thereupon a cape was laid, that bore the colours of the Griffin’s house. It was stained with blood and seemed wet as if someone had whined and wept long upon the cloth. Edwald was followed by his mentor and then Hank, and last to come in was sir Hans, who had at last gathered the courage to join them, but he could not free himself from fright for therein the wraiths he had seen in the woods had taken on a sharper shape that spied him from outside. As he saw the table and the cape laid thereon, doubts filled his mind.

-“That cloak!” he said, “How come it be here? This was the cape of Lord Hadril, which he always donned with pride, though he did not wear it when he died. It seems strange that it has found its way hither. But I will take it now, so when the day comes that I might visit his grave and pay my respects, I can lay it upon his tomb to rest.”

Edwald did not object to that, for he would not stand on his way to honour his late master. Yet as soon as he picked up the cloak, they heard voices whispering behind them in a tongue none of them understood but suddenly the voices rose in pitch and they now yelled at them in the common speech, “Thieves, Thieves, Thieves!” they hissed, and suddenly the floor beneath their feet began to quake as if things were crawling underground, for indeed they saw the trees about them had woken up and their roots had stretched towards them to then emerge from the earth and swiftly they covered the way out, like a web of nerves that entwined the shrine.

None of them moved, they stood fast while this all came to pass and it was now clear that sir Han’s fears were justified, for the shapes he had seen were indeed living beings that watched with glowing eyes from outside. And soon one of those shapes stepped forth from the shadows, for though he seemed like another stone among the pillars, he was of flesh and bone and moved in calm pace towards the light. The figure looked tall and svelte, and his skin was black, like the darks trunks of maple trees that had aged with time, but his hairs were white as snow and beneath his silver brows his eyes were piercing blue like the open sea and they were wise and ancient as if they had seen the world grow old. At the sight of such fair a being, Edwald and his fellowship stepped back, but their shock was even greater when he opened his mouth, for he spoke the common speech as one who had been keen to it for many ages of man.

-“Who are ye, newcomers,” he said, “That have disturbed the hallow still of this fane? Ye are not of the griffin’s blood, so ye come unwelcome to these parts.”

-“Greetings to you,” answered Edwald, “We are farers from the north and south, and though we are not of the griffin’s house, we come neither bearing ill will nor meaning any harm.”

-“That might be so,” said the fay, “And yet, ye thieve an offering from this shrine. By what right do you claim the cloak that is now in your hands?”

-“We take naught without right,” said sir Hans, daring the tall being with careful pride, “This cloak belonged to my master, and I intend to lay it upon his grave if time allows.”

-“To this cloak you have no right,” the being said, “for it has been offered to us as a token of good will by the one to whom it has been bequeathed. Lay it back whence ye have found it, or else the wrath of doom shall cumber your path.”

Sir Hans found that his speech was soothing and compelling in a way that was alien to his ears, for his voice was subtle yet enthralling like the lay of fairies from tales of yore. Lacking the strength to refuse him, he laid the cloak back on the table like an offering to a saint and then he spoke.

-“Forgive me, O wondrous one,” he said, bowing his head in regret, “I wish not to invite your pique by stealing this cloak, but to restore the honour of the one to whom it belonged. Pray say, who are you who guard this shrine?”

-“In the tongue of men, I go by many names,” he said, “But in the tongue of mine own, I am called Cerydwein and I am charged with the keeping of this fane.”

-“Cerydwein, say you?” asked Edwald disbelieving his own ears, “That name is known in the tales of elves, as ‘the one that keeps the throroughfare’, do you mean to say you are one of such folk?”

-“Yea, Elves we are called” said Cerydwein, “though in your songs we are sundered from our race, for we are of the seed of the Elder Ones, and not a tribe of our own. We’ve dwelt the earth for far longer than men and yet are not so old as our sires of the north. Thus ye often called us ‘elves’ which in itself is a borrowed word from the Nehlves, from whom we spring.”

The four men stood there in awe at sight of Cerydwein, and when he spoke they heeded his every word as if it were a thrilling tune, for elves had been until then only a ghost of the distant past that none of them had hoped to set eyes upon. Yet amidst this wonder, Edwald thought of what he had said.

-“You speak of this cloak as aught that has been given to you,” he inquired, “By one to whom it had been rightfully bequeathed. Do you mean to say that sir Antuel of Fyore has rendered it to you?”

The elf took a long glance at Edwald, as if reading beyond his face the content of his mind.

-“Yea,” he said “One of Griffin’s blood, sir Antuel of the Sovarós is of whom I spoke.”

In his heart, sir Hans had already given up all hope to find his master’s heir alive, but as the elf said this, his heart was glad and yearned for their reunion.

-“O noble Cerydwein,” he said, “If what you say is true, the fates have been kind. I bid you to take us to him, for after him we have searched and oaths we have pledged to see him safe and sound.”

-“That might be so,” said the elf, “And yet I have little proof that you bear me no ill will. I cannot take you to him even if you gave your word, for time has shown that it has little value among men.”

-“Among some men, that might be true,” Edwald said daring, “but I can give my word that noble is our intent, for I am bound to a power that holds me in the light of truth. Your kind is sage and has a keener eye than my own to the power whereof I speak, so you can judge for yourself and know that well I mean.”

The elf glanced long at him, and he could read through him, better than any man can read a book, and found that only truth he spoke. But he saw even the power whereof he spoke was not the handiwork of his race.

-“That power you mean,” asked he, “is it not that sword you carry?”

Edwald was shocked to hear that the elf had guessed too right, so he took Oakenjaw with both hands and put it before his eyes.

-“Of what steel is made is hard to tell” said the elf, “but the secrets by which this sword was forged belong to the dwarven race, and long was our strife against them for us not to forget of their might. Yet this sword is not enough to say you mean well, for though to you their magic might be enough, we have found that their craft can deal with deceit, and even now you may betray us and sway their blade in their name for us to meet our end. They laboured with passion, and not just love comes into their designs, but hatred may find its way thither too.”

As he said this, Edwald could not deny it, for even then, his sword ached in his hands and longed for him to strike the elf with its blade. Then the elf spoke again.

-“If you wish to see sir Antuel once more, you must surrender this sword to me,” said Cerydwein, “Yet fear not, I wish not to steal it, it shall be under my keeping until your business here is done.”

When he was asked to surrender his sword, Edwald has mixed feelings, for Oakenjaw had proven so far to be both a blessing and a curse. At times when lies were spat on his face, it helped him tell apart true from false, but when it came to himself, he could not restrain himself from truth even when lies were preferred so as to avoid saying words he regretted to utter. Regardless of his clash of thoughts, Edwald did not wholly wish to depart from his brand, for he had become attached to it, and sensed that his own fate had been bound to the blade. Nevertheless, when he was asked again he handed his sword over to the elf, since finding sir Antuel was also an oath to which he had bound himself. All this he did not share with the tongue, but the elf could read through his eyes the content of his heart.

-“You needn’t worry, Wielder of Truth,” he said, “The sword is yours, and I shall not keep it to myself, for it is not the wont of Elves to take what is not rightfully theirs.”

Thereupon he laid Oakenjaw upon the stone table just above lord Hadril’s cloak and bid with the hand the four men to follow him. Behind him, the web of roots still hampered the way out, but as the elf stepped theretoward, it quickly untangled as he passed and so they left that place.

The sun had set and bade them them farewell with hues of gold and red from afar, until only a dark cloud-clad sky was seen above them. Just when they thought there was nothing left to be wondered at, before them the archway opened into a glade and in the middle three silver spruces were raised tall, taller even than the mighty maples and oaks about which they stood, and they seemed to be crafted by will rather than grown by their own, for their trunks were bare like towers and their topmost limbs were spires, full of leaves unmoved by the wind. From their twigs and boughs hung fruits that glowed as lamps, their roots formed an islet beneath their feet that floated amid a dark pool and their lamps that mirrored thereupon looked like the stars of a nightly sky.

As they walked by the edge of the pool they could not restrain themselves from looking upon the water, but Cerydwein turned to them again and said.

-“Keep your eyes from the water,” he said, “for if you stare long enough thereat you may not wish do so until you die. So do not tarry behind”

And so the four men followed the elf, and they came to an old hithe where no boat could be found. As they stopped, sir Hans heard voices again, but this time they no longer came from darkness for now there were other elves about Cerydwein, and they spoke to him in their language, informing him of things they had seen beyond the woods a while ago. Asadue noted on the outwards look of these folk, which he deemed as fair and fey; their flesh was black, their hairs were white and they were grown in stature of body and mind. Yet they did not speak, for it seemed to him they knew not the common speech, but spoke rather in their tongue only. As they finished their talk, they passed again into the shadow of the woods and Cerydwein turned once more to the four men and said.

-“It seems you have not travelled alone” he said, “for my brethren have spotted a throng of guards that have traced you hither. Do ye have business with these men whereof I speak?”

-“Sadly no just business, I am afraid” Edwald said, “We have been on the run for some time now, and the watch have been after us ever since we hit the road. They accuse us of crimes we did not commit and if sir Antuel is alive, he is the only one that may clear our names. But I don’t see him about, and you promised you would lead us to him.”

-“And that I have done,” he said, “I have brought you as far as I may. Sir Antuel is on Deorleán, the Isle of Tears, and if you wish to reach him, you will have to swim across the Londhlýn, the Pool of Memories. But beware, for in these waters you will hear echoes from bygone times and if you dawdle long therein, you will loose your minds and memories will pull you to the depths, where you will join the bodies of those who could not face their pasts.”

-“If so troublesome are these waters,” asked Hank, “Can he not come to us instead?”

-“I am afraid, neither your loudest shout, nor even the blow of horns or the toll of bells shall suffice to reach his ears” said the elf, “For he lingers in a trance, a dream of dreams wherefrom by the will of others he cannot rise. If you wish to awake him you must first go to him and coax him back to life.”

The warnings of the elf evoked a rage in sir Hans, he thought they had been mislead and did not trust his words.

-“You guileful fay!” He said, “This is the doing of your kind, for sure, for the spells of the elves are told in stories old, and even to one who has offered you prayers and good will you have bewitched and enthralled. These are your waters, and with enchantments you have put sir Antuel to sleep. Go there and wake him up, so we can leave you once and for all!”

If the elf became angry upon hearing this he did not show, for he kept his bearing and stood fast, as a stone that was unmoved by the gale of a storm.

-“Your man is no victim of our spell,” he said, “For he came to us for solace and that we offered him. He swam his way through the pool willingly and without reproach, for if one is brave and strong of soul, these waters may ease his heartaches and turn his sorrow into wisdom. His tears might have mingled with the waters of the pond, but he passed the test and now rests in thought, and though we wished to raise him up again from his daze, he bade us not to disturb him while his heart heals and grows from mourn. Yet it has been months now since he has last opened his eyes or seems to have lost the knowledge of his tongue. If the fates have brought you hither, then mayhap you are come to succeed where we have not. Go to the isle and bring him back from the dead, only then we may part our ways.”

-“Can’t you at the very least, fetch us a barque?” asked Hank, but the elf said.

-“We do not deal with crafts of that kind,” he said, “These waters are hallowed to our people, and we are only allowed to either bath or swim in them, in this law you must also abide.”

Edwald stretched his sight towards the isle and saw indeed a figure lying there, but whether man or maid, stranger or kin he could not know, and then he had a quick glance at the waters caring not to behold them for long and then he turned again to Cerydwein.

-“What shall we see in the water if we come to dally?” he asked.

-“Ghosts from the past,” he said “Voices from bygone times, and thoughts you might have buried deep in your heart. But fear not, for should any of you drown, we shall come and help you out.”

Presently, the four men laid down their hardware and gear and ventured into the pond. The water was cool and fresh and yet not freezing like the lakes and streams of the winter time. And as soon as they were bathed, a queer feeling rolled down their spines of both fear and calm clad with a soothing sense as if their souls had found respite. At first there was no cause for alarm, for the pool was shallow and quiet, but as soon as the poolbed sloped down and they began to move their limbs to remain aboveground, the water turned dark and black, as if tainted with oil or ale browned. Yet the pool was not yet troublesome and it kept a peaceful still unbothered by their swim.

Alas, it came to pass that they began to see a faint glow, gleaming pale deep beneath them, and the longer they swam the brighter it grew in shine, and visions were formed on the surface that swirled and gnarled about them showing dreams from their past. Asadue saw vast dunes that waved up and down blowing as breeze their golden sands, and then he saw Thardys turn to fire and the flames called back at him singing dirges and laments from his lands.

To Edwald many times things were shown that made him feel both proud and sad. He first saw himself as a child when he was careless did mischief on his path. Then he saw his feats in the civil war as he gained fame and renown, and he was filled with pride. But the visions quickly became grim and rueful, he saw his brethren in dismay, beset by the making of his lies. He revisited it all; the imprisionment of sir Carédock, the song of sir Memlafar, the strife with sir Tulfric, and the sorrow of his mother, lady Aveline as she remorse all tragedy that befell her house. All this aggrieved his heart and took a heavy toll, for he could swim no more, his limbs had failed him and began to sink down pulled towards the depths by the echoes of his former self, and as he was swallowed the ghost of his father came back to him, and he saw lord Elreck’s eyes, judging him from hell and he welcomed his son with open arms to dwell with him.

But he spirit had not yet waned and he refused to share the same doom as him. ‘I will not die until I right my wrongs’ he thought to himself ‘I must overcome this test, so I can see my brother again and will bring back home, and redeem myself along the way’. And so, the vision was removed and found that he had already reached the bottom of the pool and there many men lay dead, drowned by their dreams and memories, and their skulls and bones were but a token of their foundering, for against the water’s spell none among them could avail. He swiftly aimed up and began to swim again with renewed strength, yet he saw another man diving deeper still, who from his past, he could not escape. It was sir Hans, his limbs had long betrayed him, and his eyes were lost in thought as if he were ready to join the dead. So he swam towards him.

Sir Hans had been visited by ghost of his own, for as he swam a voiced called to him from the poolbed, and the voice was that of his dead lord. And the memories he saw, filled him with remorse, for they were vision of his past when lord Hadril and him shared common cause, and long and faithfully he served him with his sword and dreams of what might have been had he not left his side as lord Hadril met his doom tormented his heart, and that he should live while his master would not seemed to him a far crueller fate than to have died along with him in the slaught. So he gave himself up to death with a smile on his face and let his own weight drown him to his end. But then he felt a hand around his wrist that with ardous might pulled him out of the depths.

And this hand belonged to the young Edwald, who with the thew of two dragged the King’s Knight out from the spell and to the surface. Sir Hans thanked him as he could and they swam on to the islet. Soon the pool became shallow again and Edwald saw that Asadue had reached the bank first. He seemed tired of might and mind, for he had done the same as his pupil in pulling Hank behind him. Of what visions he had come to behold, he did not share with Asadue that night, but he kept to himself and quickly regained his bearing. As their feet touched the dry ground again they felt their mind had been refreshed as if they had overcome a nightmare from which they feared they would never rise.

They met beneath the light of the lamplit spruces that were thrice taller than they had appeared at first glance, their roots engirdled a lofty stand crafted with stones of various kinds, and the side of each trunk was carved with unmatched skill in the likeness of mighty kings tall and wise, and though they seemed fast asleep, their lidded eyes were bent on a man that laid dreaming upon a raised middle. This man was sir Antuel, and he was tranced in thoughts of the past; his eyes were weary and wide, for he had kept them opened for days without rest and had become swollen and dry. Sir Hans crouched by his side and did what he could to awake him, he called him aloud, as if they were leagues apart, he shook, he slapped him, he tried to help him stand, but as sand leaking through his fingers he fell on the ground, all this he did, alas to no avail.

Hours went by in this manner, and each attempt to raise sir Antuel from his death-like dream utterly failed. Then a strong wind blew from the north and the crackling trees whispered secrets to their ears from days long passed. Soon, the lamps of the trees sparkled blue and white, the roots once unmoved began to swirl about, and the wooden kings carved upon the spruces’ flesh opened their eyes like glowing stars of the night, and they were alive, and the air they sent forth was filled with scents of cedar and pine. Their skin was dark, darker than that of Cerydwein and his kind, but their hair was ashen grey and flared suddenly up like fumes that mingled with the skies. They stretched their arms as if rising from lingering sleep, but their legs they could not move, for they were bound to the trees and were blended as one.

-“Who goes there?” asked he who seemed the eldest among them, and his scrawl was paced and calm. But soothing though it was, the three breathing trees filled Edwald and his fellowship with fright.

-“We are men from the north and south,” answered Edwald gathering his valour. And his words they heard though they heeded rather with their noses to then reply.

-“Yes, of man flesh you reek,” said the second one to their right, “But the fates have aught in store for you, for there is also another smell about you, of blood akin and pending doom. What tidings bring you hither, ye who are not of the griffin’s house?”

-“We have come to find this man” Edwald said, “the one that lies in a trance. Sir Antuel is his name, and he is the heir to that house.”

-“This man has a right to be here,” said the third one, “For he is the blood of those who have kept us from the king’s sight, and away from the wars of man.”

-“What dealings have you with the Sovarós?” asked sir Hans.

-“The Griffin’s house has ever come to us for prayers and solace,” said the second one, “And with grace and gratitude, we have granted them that.”

-“So it is by your doing that sir Antuel lies spellcast” said Edwald, “why won’t you elves befree him from this charm?”

-“We are no elves, young, faring one” said the the eldest wooden carved, “But the seed wherefrom they spring. We are ‘Ennār’, whom men call the Elder Ones and long we have kept these waters from the tainting hand of man, for we are a Nehlven Triad, mighty Wardens of the Woodland Clan. The elves are our children and they guard the path so no men but those of the griffin’s kin may find their way hither parts. But this man has no spell safe the one to which he himself clasps. He is long past our trials now, and yet he lingers still in trance; a peaceful dream of his own device, there his heart has found rest from the mishaps that have come to pass.”

-“If from your power come the dreams to which he holds himself captive, can you not unmake the spell that had been cast unto him?” asked Asadue.

-“We have tried already to call him back to life,” said the second one, “But he cannot be raised from without, and in his dreams our voices may only compel him to linger longer still. For him to break free from his charm one must suade him to do so from inside, and this he must do of his own will or else he might sink further down his reverie. If you wish to awaken him, you must first dive into the same trance whereto he has been bound. There in the depths of memory, where his heart dwells, you may find his conscious, would it that it remains sound and has not yet been devoured by the thoughts of his own past. Alas, none of you is made for this task, for who among you has the grit to overcome the games of the mind?”

-“I will play the games” said Edwald standing tall and brave, “For my fate is bound to his. Until I deliver him from harm’s way, I shall not find rest.”

-“Great courage lies within you,” said the third one, “For you have seen what this spell can do to the hearts of men, and still you are willing to undergo this test. Yet, I fear you may not have what it takes, for valour alone is not enough to reach this man in the halls of memory. One must, as him, have the blood of the first men, and in low-borns such as you, that blood runs thin and is only kept thick in the great houses of the Realm of Men.”

-“Then this is my fate,” Edwald said, “For I am of pure descent. I am Elbracht, son of Elreck, of house Clasthaur, mighty among the houses of the High Men.”

Then the Nehlven Triad all shared in rage, for they knew well what house he meant, and were crazed by visions of a bygone age, as this he said.

-“The House of Clasthaur?” asked the eldest among them, “The lords that are called ‘the Key to the Woods’? You mean to say that you are a scion of Lord Urme Elfbane?”

-“Aye, my sire of old he is,” answered Edwald, “His very blood runs through my veins.”

-“Then you have bequeathed our dudgeon from him” spoke the eldest one again, “For he fought a dreadful war against our children, the elves, and many perished against him, and lie now dead never to be risen again. If what you say is true, then we should smite you down or else damn your name. But the path you have chosen will be sad enough a fate, for should you fail, we will make sure that you suffer a doom worse than death, and your torment will be great and you shall forever know only pain.”

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-“Then let it be so,” Edwald said valiantly, fearing them no longer and with little pity for himself, “for if the fates have this in store for me, I will gladly follow even their gloomiest trek.”

-“Very well, then” said all of them regaining their soothing poise, “Drink from the pool’s water, as did Antuel before you, lay down next to him and we shall do the rest. You will first see your distant past and slowly fall into your deepest regrets, there we shall be glad for so your punishment shall begin, but should you somehow outwit your biggest fears and have the will to stand such rueful dreams, you will find Antuel in the pits of the Dark Vale, where thoughts are stronger than words or deeds and therefrom few men have ever escaped.”

But before as he went to the pool again, Asadue stood in his way, and said.

-“Pupil, let me go instead,” he said, “No doubts your bravery here, your name is already in the mouths of minstrels and harpers, you needn’t prove anything to these fays.”

-“Dear mentor,” he replied, “Long I have fled my past, but I not will run away from it now. If this is indeed my end, then I will meet it with grace. Besides, you cannot go whither I am going; they said it themselves, only one of pure blood may play the mind’s games.”

Asadue looked long at him, as if he restrained himself to reply, but then he said.

-“Are you not afraid?” asked he.

-“I am, verily” Edwald answered, “But is not in the face of fright that one should be bravest, as I have told you many times?”

-“You have,” Asadue sadly replied, “A find student you are, and yet it seems that much I have learnt from you. Not a braver man have I met in my life. Do as you must, but should you find no way out, know that I will follow the same path in hopes of bringing you out of that trance, or else to share forever in your plight.”

-“That I cannot allow,” Edwald said, “for you are very dear to me. I will not have you perish on my watch.”

-“My sweet pupil,” Asadue said, “That choice is not yours to take, for though you made me a free man, you cannot break the chain that I have willingly bound to your heart.”

Then they said no more. Asadue gave him way and Edwald did as he was bid; he drank from the waters of the pool, he laid himself next to sir Antuel and the breathing trees began to hum. First subtle and light, but their thrum grew in might until they rumbled in solemn mood and entuned the song of the elven clan. Loud and deep they sang, the Triad’s voice was as one, and they all spoke in their ancient tongue.

Hem myr loucht

Ceirn hya londh,

Gleihyand ul deor,

Beanyand gymondh.

The prayer was like the gale of a storm, bringing thud and thunder, and after each bridge it turned noisy and booming, like the clash of waves against a cliff or the grumble of voids deep under the sea. Their breath sent forth fumes, like thick clouds that hazed about him, and all was grey and blue. And so Edwald closed his eyes, without fear, and yet it seemed to him that he was still awake, for the faces around had not disappeared, but had become plain and cristal-clear, as if they had put off masks they had long worn as guile. He stood up and began to inspect them one by one. Sir Hans was mortally aggrieved, his spirit was waned and withered for the passing of lord Hadril, sir Hans was worried, strifing with himself, he did not know whether the path he had followed so far was the right one to have chosen, and the mentor Asadue, seemed thrice as strong as he appeared in life, as if he had long clad himself with humbled clothes to disguise a mighty stock.

Edwald wished to speak to each of them, but like dying embers in a frozen hearth, their bodies began to vanish, smouldering away in the breeze, until only a sea of shades and mist was all he could see. However, soon the brume shifted in many shapes and hues and he found himself in Ceor, in the early days of his youth, and faces old and new walked past him; he saw his brethren playing in the courtyard with wooden sticks in their hands, they thought themselves great warriors of old and they were blithe—among them was Carédock, and he still had both eyes and all four limbs—since no tragedy had yet come to pass. Elbracht went to them and took part in their romp, for he thought he was young again and briefly forgot he had been tranced. Hours went by in frolic amusement; he had forgotten how happy he once was. But come dusk, lady Aveline stepped forth from a balcony and told them that the hour had grown late, and it was now time for bed, and as she said this the vision was removed and the fumes were shifted once again before his eyes.

All went dark and next to him, on each side, walked two men of the kingsguard, they threw him in a dungeon like a piece of meat to feat to feed the hounds. He dwelt in shadows strolling here and there thirsty of light and past a day, that he found; a dim light drew ever nearer coming down a narrow hall to his right. Out thence came a man bearing a torch in hand beyond the bars of his cell, and now he could discern that he had lost an eye and a leg, for he was in sir Carédock’s flesh and the man before him was himself and he realised it was all a memory, a ghost of the past, of when he paid his brother a visit in the King’s Pound. He heard his own voice, coming from another mouth, and his brother’s coming out his. Hopeless to change the course of events as they unfolded, a great despair overtook him and rue filled his heart. Then he saw himself smirk behind the bars, for he knew he was about to lie and empty promises he gave his brother, which he’d regret in the aftertime.

As he wished to cry out to him, yelling loud in his mind, the vision passed and he was taken out of the dungeon to another scene and time. All about him tall walls arose from the ground, sconces were lit and tunes were harped, he sat on a high chair and before him a table was laid, with many meals of colours and smells that sadly he recalled rather too well. He was in Ceor again, in the banquet hall of his castle, on too sorry a date, for once the mutton was served and his brethren and mother sat along with him, he knew what would come to pass in that place. He took a knife and cut a lamb, and gave to his brothers each a part and on every plate were the seeds of a strife, that came to divide his beloved house. When all was past, he starved for solace and love, but his brothers resented him, and his mother shut him from her heart, thus he grew grim and sad, as his father once was. ‘How could a kinship so deep be so shattered apart?” asked Elbracht to none that would reply. Whispers he heard in his halls long and dark, and lonely he roamed seeking for the warmth that he had been denied.

Amidst despair and tired of woe, Elbracht remembered that he was still in a trance, and all what he saw were only mere visions of the past, so he closed his eyes and wrestled with his own mind, and toiled against the spell that upon him was cast. Alas, he had grown weary of so much regret, for the weight of the charm was heavy to lift and it seemed like the waves of a tempest that no man could outstand. He knew then that the Triad had done as they swore, and that having failed the games he had been damned to ever dwell in torturing thoughts, but his grit had not yet waned, and he pressed on to escape his harrowing fate.

And so, after so much sweat and tears, he opened his eyes again, and it was as if he had woken up from a dreadful slumber. All about him was pale and grey, filled with haze and shades. He had grown old, his beard and hairs were white, and had outlived a thousand lives of man. Next to him lay sir Antuel still, but his bones were now bare and his flesh had aged into ashes spread upon the ground like dust that had been swept away by the wind. He looked around and to his dismay he saw that his fellowship were bones as well, sir Frann, sir Hans, and Asadue, all were long dead, for they had waited years for him to awake, and he never did until then.

Soon a wind blew from the north and the spruces about him answered in a crackling tune, and the three wooden kings who had been dormant until, waiting ages for Elbracht to awake, opened their eyes glew silver like erewhile, and their eyes were bent on him.

-“Well, at last you are risen from the dead” said the eldest unto him, “But mayhap you wish you could never wake, for mountains aged and forests waned, and now you are welcomed back to life by death herself.”

-“What has happened? My men are dead!” Edwald asked in wail, doing his best for his eyes not to well.

-“It seems you have failed the test” said the third tree to his left, “for years have passed like days, while you lingered in the depths. And in waiting for you to rise again, your fellow men met their end.” As he said this, all three wooden kings simpered sinisterly at him, sniggering right at him with no pity in their hearts and their eyes were hung eerily on him, for they were glad that the heir of Urme was filled with dread.

-“Why do my suffering amuse you?” he said, “You Ennard are all the alike, with your arrogant, long faces you always look down on men. When Old King Belyus rebelled against your kin, we thought we got rid of your yoke, but even now you treat us all the same, like toys of meat wherewith you think you can play.”

-“We are right to be glad at your pain,” said on of them, “For your forefather sent many of our children to the grave. Unlike humans that part from this world when the flesh decays, elves die truly, and their souls are only kept in the memory of their names that if virtuous in life, with any luck, pass on to songs and tales. You might say it is even human of us to feel happiness even now, for this is revenge and it has been paid dearly by your very vanity. Had you not been so foolish to play the games of the mind, you would have not dwelt in dreams and you could have left years ago, when your men were still alive. But now you must know the cost of your folly and pride.”

-“But why must I pay?” Asked Elbracht as he wept, “I am not my father, I am not my grandsire! I am my own man!”

-“Yor are their blood!” whispered raged the eldest one, “You are heir to their names, and that makes you as guilty as them. Your sire, Urme, should have known what was coming his way, and if not bewitched himself, then one would be damned, born from him.”

-“Celestial Fathers and Earthly Mothers!” he cried out to the skies, “O why won’t you heed my prayers? I beg of you, answer me back! Finish my suffering, O please just let me die!”

-“Your gods will not heed you now” said the third wooden carved as he laughed, “They fail you in death, as they have failed you in life. For no prayer or blessing divine can save you from the malison that upon you we have cast.”

Elbracht thought this was to be his end, for from a fate by the Elder Ones ordained no simple man could escape. Yet even as his heartache swelled to agony, he saw a figure approaching the circle from beyond mist and shade. At first he feared it was the ghost of his father who had come again to worsen in his pain, but as he stepped forth from that haze he knew it was another man, one who he knew almost as well. It was Asadue, he was of bone and flesh and he was not dead, but mighty he seemed as if he had not waned of age. He crouched over to Elbracht and solaced him.

-“I am here now, my pupil,” he said, “Do not dismay. It will all be over soon, you are almost there.”

But Elbracht was confused, he had seen his remains. How his mentor breathed and lived as if it hadn’t passed a day, he could not tell.

-“O mentor, how can this be?” he asked, puzzled at him, “I saw your bones on the ground and you were long dead, and yet here you are, sound and hale. Or are you rather his wraith that has come to my aid, even beyond the grave?”

-“I am no wight, my pupil,” he said, “And though I am a bit dazed, I am otherwise alive and well. But you are not, long you have roamed in dreams and you would not rise again.”

-“Long I have roamed, indeed,” he replied “For look about you! Our friends are all dead. I have failed the mind’s games! Alas for me, mentor, alas for them!”

-“Nay, Elbracht, they are not dead,” he said, “They wait for you still, while you are abed, for from your sleep you have not risen yet.”

-“The games go on?” Elbracht asked amidst bewilderment, “You mean to say this is all a dream and even now I am not awake, that you live and have come for me?”

-“Aye, child, ‘tis as I have said!” said Asadue, weeping too, “I told you I would come for you. I would never forsake you, less so in the face of dread.”

-“The Gods are good, mentor, the Gods are good!” Elbracht was glad to say, and presently both men embraced.

However joyful their reunion, they were still in a trance and the Nehlven Triad had borne witness to their meeting. They wished to be wroth to learn Urme’s heir was no longer alone, but so great was their wonder at seeing so low a man entered the games that they could not help but feel amazed by his presence.

-“How come you, a low-born stranger, found your way hither parts?” one of them asked, “For we are deep underneath the levels of this spell and few men have ever gotten this far. What devilry is this that would fool the rules of our charm?”

-“Your sorcery might be powerful and beyond the understanding of the wise,” Asadue replied, “Yet little can the hand of even the mightiest of warlocks do against the bonds of love that have bound me to the fate of this man. Against the fire of human hearts, all curses fail and no fear can strive. Release us now, so we can follow our path!”

The three wooden kings were moved by his words, yet they kept their quiet and shared quaint looks of doubt. They dwelt long in thoughts, pondering on what had come to pass, and then they spoke in one voice and were of one mind.

-“We are afraid we cannot release you from the trance,” they said, “For you must first dive deeper still into the halls of memory to find the way out. But there is no need for qualm, for this trial ye have passed. We intended for it to last until the very end of times, though it seems the human heart has indeed fooled the games of the mind, for the chains with which we have bound this man to eternal suffering have been torn apart and you have outwitted even our evilest device.”

-“Then deeper we shall dive,” said Elbracht rising again, rekindled with a hopeful drive, “We have come for sir Antuel, and we will not depart if he is left behind.”

-“Very well,” said the eldest one, “To sink into the lowest levels of this spell you must first drink from the pool, as you did erewhile. Yet beware, brave men, for down there in the Dark Vale, where memories abide, you will be filled with feelings of great calm and so peaceful will that valley seem to you that you will not wish to be uncharmed. There lies the hardest test yet, for if you wish to end the games your will must be adamant and fight off the things you will see there. Should you find respite in that place, you will forever tarry in this trance.”

-“We shall take our chances,” said Elbracht, “Have we not gotten this far?”

-“Do not so be so hasty, young man,” they said, “You know naught of what awaits you, and if you fail and convince yourself that you ought to ever roam those timeless paths, there is little we can do or say to compel you otherwise.”

Saying no more, Elbracht and Asadue drank from the waters of the pool and but they did not sleep. They looked about and nothing had chaged, but then the floor began to rumble, the stone stand whereupon they lay cracked wide and they descended into a pit of blackness as if they were summoned to hell. After falling for what seemed like years, they reached the bottom and they splashed onto shallow waters yet their bones did not break; they were unharmed and whole as if they had jumped into bed. They stood up and found themselves in an endless night, right in the middle of a plain and afar they descried gloomy mountains which slanted ever up beyond the eyes and mixed with the stars of the sky, and they were veiled by a shroud of aurorae that strayed with many hues, of green, blue and white. A fey place it was, for they were come to the Dark Vale, the final stage of the games of the mind. There they were alone, and no sound was heard, but deep booms coming from the mountains, like the clash of thunder, and there was no wind in the air, all was still as if dead.

Elbracht was filled with awe, then doubt, and when he became aware his mentor was no longer by his side, his unease swelled to fear. He roamed the timeless paths and cried out his name aloud, and in that emptiness, his voice was a lonely thud waving through the air like the echoes of a throbbing drum. He wandered long those endless halls for days without dawn or dusk, until at last his strengths failed him and he had to halt his stroll. Again he felt hopeless and forlorn, and he thought he would succumb to another woe, for he had lost his mentor and without him, he thought he could not fulfil his quest. He crouched on the floor and began to weep, and his tears mingled with the waters beneath.

As he lay in troubled thoughts, he felt tender hands caressing away his sorrows and there was dread no more. He lifted his eyes to see who had come to him, and to his surprise he saw his mother sitting there next to him. Her eyes were pious and sweet; she beamed at him and dried his tears.

-“Mother?” he said, “How come you hither? I left you in Keor months ago and your heart was withered.”

-“All is well, my child” she said in a soothing tone, “You needn’t worry anymore, for time has cured my wounds and I now am blithe, my resentment has passed and I no longer wish to be bitter.”

Both mother and son embraced and from Elbracht departed all fear, he saw deep into her eyes and found that her words were true and her love was dear.

-“Arise, my son,” she said, “Your brothers are here as well, for we have awaited you long in this dark vale, ever praying for you to come.”

As she said this Elbracht looked to his left and saw his brothers were indeed there. Sir Tulfric, sir Memlafar and even Carédock too, he was whole and well and happy to see his brother’s face.

-“Come now, brother,” he said, “At last you have come to join us, so we may dine together again, like we used to in our younger days.” In the middle, a table was laid, and all about them were cupbearers, cooks and harpers reading themselves for supper to begin.

-“Carédock, you seem sound hale,” Elbracht said, “I have come to bring you home, long I have searched for you, straying beyond the South’s domain, and here you are alive and safe. Yet I feared you would begrudge me since I left you bound in chains.”

-“You have found me, brother,” he said, “and you need neither worry for me nor must you take me home, for I hold you no grudge and hither we have each found our ways, so we could meet once again.”

Elbracht was glad to hear him saying this, for ever was heart in strife, but now it found rest, and little did he cared how his brethren and mother found themselves there. Joyous though he was, his mind was not at ease, for he realised that he was not yet awake and he still lingered in the Dark Vale. Then the warnings of the Nehlven Triad came back to him as a ring in his ears that told him to beware the things that were before him.

-“Nay, this cannot be,” he said unto him, “You are not here, for I know I have not finished the games. You are all but visions of your true selves, mere wraiths of the people I know best. No matter how much my heart wishes this to be true, this is what the Ennards told me to beware; a cruel dream where I should find mirth, deviced to ease my despair.” He let his eyes fall to the ground refusing to gaze upon them any more, for he knew deep in his mind that all what he saw were only wights formed by the desires of his heart.

-“You speak of Ennards and games.” asked his mother, “To all what you say there is little sense. Why do you depress yourself? Do you not wish to see your brothers again?”

-“I do, verily” said Elbracht raising his eyes to her, “But these visions shall not deceive me, for I know none of you are really there!”

As he said this, he frowned upon them all and a new resolve was born within him. He beheld them with doubt and like wind sweeping away a mound of dust, they all vanished before him and there was darkness again. But even there he was not alone, for now he could see another soul wandering about his own dreams and echoes of his mind as it had just happened to him. Elbracht drew closer to him and he grew hopeful again, for the man lying there was no other than his mentor Asadue and he seemed dazed, bewitched by memories from his younger days. He cried out to him from afar but he would not answer back, and even when he stood next to him, to his name he would still not reply.

-“Mentor, Mentor, I am here,” he shouted, “Please I beg you, do not abandon me now.”

-“Father is that you?” Asadue finally said, “Have you come to join me in death? We parted ways before you died, and I thought I would never see you again, but I am glad that we meet one last time, after so much dread and darkness.”

-“I am not your father, dear mentor,” Elbracht said, “I am sorry you could not bid your sire farewell before he passed, yet you must hearken me now, for if you dwell longer in the past, I might not be able to call you back to life.”

-“If you are not father, then it must be you, uncle!” he said with disdain and sudden hatred was kindled unwarranted within him, “I shan’t be your toy any more, I will poison your wine and strangle you myself if you dare take me away, for I am a child no more, and now I am free man. You cannot taunt me any longer!”

Then Asadue rose from the ground, in his eyes, there was wrath and great might in his fists; he smashed Elbracht in the face and mocked him as if he were indeed his uncle, whom at last he had outmatched in cunning and strength. No matter how hard he cried to him, Asadue would not be dissuaded, and Elbracht was forced to wrestle with his mentor. Arm against arm they fought, blow after blow echoing across the vale, with neither eyes nor ears to witness their brawl. Elbracht withheld much of his thew to not harm his beloved teacher, but each time Asadue beat him, his punches grew in power evermore and he was frightened. The mentor was idled with rage and it blinded his shrewdness, for he could not see his pupil. In his mind he fought his uncle and towards him, much resentment he had kept in his heart. Yet like dykes that, aged and battered, could not retain the waters from flooding any more, his grudges overflowed the constraints of his soul, and now his anger was unleashed and threatened the life of the man he most loved.

-“Mentor, stop!” said Elbracht weary and beaten, “See you not what you’ve become? I am neither your uncle nor his ghost, but the pupil you have always adored. I am Elbracht, the boy whom so much you have schooled. Will you not see me now that by you, I am humbled and drubbed?”

As he said this, Elbracht was throbbed to the floor, and as he lay there, weeping and sobbing, Asadue’s mind woke up, his vision was removed, and saw his uncle no more, instead he saw a young man, disheartened and sad, whom he had raised and taught.

-“Elbracht, could that be you?” said Asadue dismayed, “Forgive me, pupil, for I have forgotten myself and have cast upon you all my hate. May Adhas curse me and all Gods punish me, for what I have done!” Then he fell upon his knees, wailed and rued himself, “Forgive me, child,” he went on saying, “Forgive me, Forgive me!”

-“Hush now, mentor, hush,” answered Elbracht crouching down to him, and he was no longer distraught or afraid, “You need neither damn yourself or dwell any more in thoughts. For you I have come and I am glad that to me you have returned.”

-“This place is full of deceit and dread” Asadue said, “Here I have seen many things from my past, and I almost bound myself to them. Had you not come to me, I would have forged another chain for myself; one that bound me to a fate from which by my own will, I would not have been strong enough to escape. We should leave this place ere we are haunted by dreams again.”

-“We cannot leave just yet,” Elbracht said, “We have come for sir Antuel and we shall not leave without him.”

-“But where shall we find him?” Asked Asadue, “I lingered for days in memory before you came to awaken me, and I trust he is already long lost in this darkness. Even if we find him how shall we compel him to abandon his deepest desires and go back to a world where som many, sorry things have befallen him?”

-“I do not know, mentor,” Elbracht said, “But find him, we shall and we must try our best to bring him back from the dead. Let us go and search for him before we are plagued with visions again.”

Then they stoop up they, and though they left the place wherein they were, it did not seem that they had moved at all. In the halls of the Dark Vale, time was at rest, and their walk seemed to render no fruits, for the view was always the same and amidst so much blackness only the skies shifted and changed. They went on for endless days until a light was seen far away; at first, it appeared dim and vague, like the beacon of a lake or sea glowing on a distant quay, but the longer they strode towards it, the brighter it shone white and pale, and now they could discern it was no single light, but a throng of lamps that whirled about a lonesome man. This man was sir Antuel and he talked and laughed with those lamps which were in fact wights from his past, and he spoke to them as if they were indeed alive.

Elbracht and Asadue were glad they had found the man they had searched for so long, but as they cried to him he would not reply, for he stood fast in his trance and had found mirth and joy, a joy that would never cease, and would keep him captive to the end of times. From the outside, he seemed crazed and mad, but in his own eyes, he was hale and sound. The ghosts about him were of his kindred; sir Anio, sir Carth, lady Eōlin, lady Arlys, her daughter and lord Hadril, all were there, and so full of life they seemed that if Elbracht had not seen their corpses in the Dome of Fyore ere coming hither, he would have believed that they had in truth not yet passed away. Alas, months ago he had paid his respects to them and knew they were long dead. But sir Antuel did not know this, he was drunk with the thought that they were actually there. Elbracht stood before him and called him by his name.

-“Sir Antuel, sir Antuel, awake!” he said, “Do you know not my face? I am Elbracht, son of Elreck, to your niece I was once betrothed, and I am come to rescue you from this spell.”

-“Lord Elbracht!” he said in jolly mood, “At last you have come. My niece and I have been waiting for you to appear so you can wed her once and for all. Come let us ask father for his blessing!”

And there he was, lord Hadril stood proud and strong, looking upon him with pious eyes.

-“Lord Elbracht,” he said, “I am glad you have decided to join us, and now receive my blessing, so you may marry my daughter. We have had our feuds in the past, but now all is forgiven and forgotten, and there shall be no need to rescue anyone from this charm, for we have found peace at last, in these eternal halls where finally we can reunite.”

-“Did you hear that Elbracht?” said sir Antuel, “Father has forgiven you, all is well now. Come, let us be merry, there is a wedding to plan!”

-“Sir Antuel, please, hearken what I have to say,” Elbracht said, “We cannot linger here any more. The things that you see are but mere dreams of the heart, memories of our own device to ensnare us to the past. Your family has died, and you were there before they expired. That you cannot undo, even if you summon their ghosts to the halls of your mind, you cannot dwell forever in thoughts. Bid them farewell and accept the things that have to pass.”

-“Don’t come to me, with such sorry words!” Antuel exclaimed, “Do you not see they are there, living and breathing before your eyes. Aye, we were butchered by evil men, by I ran off too soon ere we were all slain. But the fates have spared and they did not die, for now they have come to join me, and they are sound and alive.”

Many times Elbracht tried to explain all the things that had happened outside his trance, but sir Antuel would not listen. And any other premise that went against what he believed, he would swiftly dismiss and pay no heed to it.

-“Please, sir Antuel, come to your senses,” Elbracht said, “These visions are a lie, you may convince yourself otherwise, but look into your heart, there you shall find that your family has truly passed.”

-“I know not whereof you speak.” he said, “But if you haven’t anything merry to say, depart from my side, I will not be bereft from my blood one more time! If this be a dream, then I will sleep on until my death.”

-“But you must!” shouted Elbracht at him, and his voice dwarfed all those about him; both the thud and thunder all gave way to the echo of his words. “You might wish to delude yourself with dreams, and hide your lament behind the veil of lies. But while you choose to dwell in memories, there are some in the world outside that miss and love you dearly. You see sir Anio, sir Carth, lady Eōlin, lord Hadril, his wife and daughter and they all give you calm and solace, yet you have a sister that is not among these ghosts. In Fyore, lady Aléndra grieves the death of your family and she buried them among the tombs of your sires. However, in her heart, she knows beyond all hope that you live still.

“One may wish to end his life, when many tragedies have come to pass. Alas, the torment will not sunder, for it only goes to those who remain. Will you deny her the kindness to meet with you once more? Will you be so cruel to forever depart from her, never to smile upon her again? If that is so, then a wretched man you are, for to wish to be doomed like this, when there is another choice at hand, is a selfish deed and it makes you a coward, by all accounts.”

-“I am no coward!” Antuel said, “I am the blood of the griffin, the bravest house in the land.”

-“And yet, here you are, recoiling behind a mask of blitheness,” said Elbracht harshly, “You wish to prove yourself a true Sovarós, then come with me now, bury the dead, and leave these dreams behind.”

Upon hearing this, sir Antuel looked about and beheld the ghosts of his family, seeming sad. He lifted his eyes towards Elbracht and began to shed tears of sorrow and fright.

-“I cannot,” he said sobbing, “For I am afraid. I know what awaits me in the world out there, and I fear I am not made for that task.”

-“Sir Antuel,” said Elbracht, “Only in the face of fear can one only truly be brave. But you needn’t worry, for you will not be alone, you will never be. I will stand by your side until the worst has passed. Arise, young griffin, let us wake up and cower no more.”

As he said this, Elbracht stretched his hand towards sir Antuel, and hesitating no longer, he gave him his and both were pulled out of the dark. The floor began to rumble beneath their feet, mighty gales were blown from the sky, and the stars and aurorae glew with a new light, like a flare of many hues that lit up the valley until all was bright and white. And so the terrible blackness was overcome, and the Games of the Mind were won at last.

Elbracht was the first to awaken, and he was covered to the neek with the spruces’ roots, Asadue and sir Antuel lay next to him, and they were entangled too. But as soon as they all woke up, the roots crawled back whence they came and the wooden kings bent their eyes on them. The air was fresh again, and the sun rose from the east, casting away both shadows and gloom. Sir Hans and Hank were also there and they were glad to see them all rise again.

-“Young master, finally you are awake,” said sir Hans, and sir Antuel was happy to see him again, “I knew you were not dead, for the blood the griffin runs thick in your veins, and against one of your name no evil spell can stir.”

-“Sir Hans, is that really you?” he said, “Or are you too a ghost that is part of the games?”

-“Nay I am no wraith, young master,” sir Hans replied, “For few among the dead can be so joyous that you are alive and well. The games are over, you need not dismay. Touch me if you must to see that I am bone and flesh.”

-“O sir Hans, you blessed gallant,” sir Antuel said, “How glad I am to see you again! But if you are here and not by my brother’s, then the worst has come to pass, and lord Hadril is truly dead.”

-“Aye, sadly it is true,” said the Knight filled with grief, “Lord Hadril lies cold underearth, his name has been carved upon stone among your sires’ graves, and my sword will know no rest until all of them are avenged. Now you are your brother’s heir, last male of the House Sovarós, and rightful lord of Fyore. To you I pledge my blade, and ever shall I defend and honour you and keep you from harm’s way, ‘til the last of my days.”

Sir Hans could have gone longer still talking about legacy and honour and all the things he felt awaited his new, young lord. But then the wooden kings spoke and their voices dwarfed all sound about them, ringing in their ears like bells’ toll. And there was awe in their tone, for they had feared the worst, and had deemed none of the three men that ventured into the dream were wilful enough to outmatch the many trials of the mind that few men outstood.

-“Our minds cannot believe our eyes!” they said, “It seems that the fates have indeed a soft spot for you, young Urme’s scion. Against much dread and torment, you have wrestled, and yet you have proven yourself special, for we have witnessed that your will is as mighty as one of our own. Many struggle to rise from that trance on their own, and you not only raised yourself from the dead, instead, you awakened others as well. The Games of the Mind were not designed for men, who in the face of visions so fey, often fall and succumb like slaves. We knew your grandsire well, he was rude and naïve, yet proudly brave, but aside from valour we have found in you only little trail of him. Who are you that cannot be deceived even by the most subtle of our guileful spells?”

-“You should know by now that I cannot be beguiled even by the sauvest of lies.” Elbracht said daring, “For with sword or not by my side, I am Edwald, and against me no deceit may strive.”

-“It seems we misjudged you, Wielder of Truth.” said the eldest one, “We do not forgive you for the sins of your sire. But your deeds here today are, no doubt, worthy of praise. We will give you food and provitions for your path ahead and you may stay in our realm while you recover your strengths. And when you are ready to leave, we will bid you farewell. Yet before you depart hence, we require from you an offering.”

-“What shall that be?” asked Edwald, “Is it not enough all the suffering we endure to sate your grudges towards my forebearer?”

-“Aye, much you have endured,” said the second wooden king, “However it is the wont of our folk that for any man to enter these woods, he should lay down a token of good will as payment for our counsel and solace. But you needn’t sacrifice much, only some drops of your blood will suffice, for things we have sensed in you during the games that have raised many doubts among us. We wish to examine your blood, so as to have some clarity regarding your stock.”

Edwald found this token to be a queer one, but he accepted, nonetheless. He was given a knife, wounded his hand and let some of his blood drop upon the spots where he had been laid to rest. The Nehlven Triad gave him their thanks and so they left that place. They swam from the islet to the hithe whence they came, yet in the pool, fewer visions hindered their way, for three among them had outstood a harder test and their resolves had matured in the mind’s games. Even Sir Hans and Hank that had not joined them in the Dark Vale had grown wiser of heart, so they did not tarry behind them this time.

Upon arriving at the other end of the pool, all five men were received by the elf Cerydwein, and he had ordered a table be fetched and various meals cooked for them. All were starving and they did not dither to sit down and feast. All of the food seemed strange for them, and had a toothsome smack that none of them had tasted before. There was mutton and beef but mostly greens, and all were prepared with such skill that no lord in the realm of men had matched in his kitchen.

However luscious the meals had been, sir Antuel had little mouth for it. His mind was somewhere else, wandering far off the world of living men. Sir Hans noticed this and he tried his best to comfort him.

-“Young master what troubles your heart?” he asked.

-“I cannot help but dwell on the memory of my family,” Antuel said, “You served my brother long, and had great love for him. But you did not kenn him as well as I did. We used to come here in our youth, and pray together to the gods. Now that he is not by my side, it pains me to know that as he indeed has passed, the world has lost a gentle light.”

-“What you say is true,” said sir Hans sadly, “He was wise and kind, and I dare say that a man like him will be hard to find.” Then he explained to him all that had come to pass, of lord Carathuel’s betrayal and the manner in which his family died. “A tragic end it was, and yet I cannot help but wonder what became of you ere you came hither parts.”

-“‘Tis no merry tale,” sir Antuel said, “But it’ll do me no good to keep it for myself, lest it should wither my heart. As you know, the night was dark and filled with an eerie silence as our convoy made its way through the dense woods towards Nalas. We intended to stop in the sacred place of 'Locht Nelbáris' to offer our prayers, a cherished tradition of our noble house, before continuing to celebrate Elsarmas in Nalas. As the convoy advanced, you led the way, scouting the path ahead to ensure our safety. Little did we know of the treachery lurking among our guards. Unbeknownst to us, some of the armed men who had been offered as part of our guard by Carathuel had ill intentions. My uncle had declined to join us on our journey, we always knew that he was sly and guileful, but we never expected such betrayal from those he sent in his stead.

“Under the cover of darkness, his men turned against us, launching a brutal assault on our family and the escorts. Chaos erupted as screams pierced the night, and the calm of the woods was shattered by the blades' clang. The element of surprise was on their side, and they mercilessly butchered those who stood in their path. However, amidst the confusion, I became aware of the impending danger. So I hurried to find my brother, lord Hadril, hoping to warn him before it was too late. Alas, I found him already wounded, his strength fading. With his last breath, he urged me to flee through the woods to Locht Nelbáris and seek refuge with the elves, who were said to offer solace and protection to those in need.

“Taking his advice to heart, I bid my brother a last farewell and with tearful eyes he gave me his cloak as a token of truth to render to the elves. It was a symbol of our noble house, a plea for aid and sanctuary in the face of this horrifying bloodbath. With heavy heart and swift feet, I made my way towards Locht Nelbáris, praying that the elves would hear my plea and grant me the safety that had eluded us that fateful night. With grace, they accepted my token. They told me I should speak with the wooden kings—in the family, their counsel and magic were renowned and the tale was often told that they could heal even the most doleful wounds of the heart. But first I would have to swim across the Pool of Memories to reach them.

“I tried my best to not let my memories haunt me, and at last I reached the islet, where the wooden kings told me that I could find respite in the Dream of Dreams. They warned, however, that I should not tarry in thoughts, or else my mind would be forever lost. Alas, I did not listen, for so great was my grief, that I only wish to fall in dreams, never to be risen again. It was then that lord Elbracht found me and convinced me to rise from my slumber. I shall ever be grateful to him, and yet my heart has not ceased to ache.”

Edwald had heard all whereof the spoke, and seeing that sir Hans face also turned grim and sad, he came to tell him.

-“You are not alone in your grief,” he said, “The whole of Thindur mourns still your family’s fate. But if you wish to honour the dead, you should taken on your brother’s bequest and assume your role as his heir. Your uncle only beguiles the common folk with hollow words of lament, yet in you, lord Hadril’s memory is held true and many will follow you, should you choose to fight in his name. Take solace in this, and summon your courage for the path ahead. When we are finished here we will journey through the Cadia to Myrlost. There rules your kinsman, lord Tyén, and you may rest assured that you will count with an ally in him. For now let us eat and drink to the legacy of your kindred. Mighty were they all in life, and in death they shall become the stuff of legend in songs and tales.”

And so Edwald made his toast and they finished their meals. But they did not depart right away; they spent some days in the woods, living among the elves. There Asadue became close with elf Cerydwein who was old beyond the count of years, yet not undying like his Ennard kings, and he schooled him in the lore of his folk. Ever keen to learn, Asadue was taught their tongue which he had only little grasp of. The elf told him of the elder days before the Kings of Men. It so happened that they were allies to the Nulves when they used to reign. Yet unlike them, they were never cruel to the human race, and saw them not as slaves, but as fellow children of the earth. And so he discovered that in the time of the Great Awakening, they sided with the Aredans, granting many of them refuge in their lands; thus, explaining why they were friendly towards the Griffin’s House, for in a previous age, their forefathers often went to them for advice and long after the first man was crowned they continued to pilgrim thither so that it became a wont in that house.

Inspite of all he had learnt, Asadue’s thirst for knowledge was still not sated, and though the day drew nearer on which he would leave that place, he refused to depart thence with asking for a token whereby to remember his time there.

-“O noble Cerydwein,” he said, “Soon I will get going hence, and I cannot say whether the fates will lead me hither again. Still, I fear that both my heart and mind will rue leaving with many questioned yet unanswered if I don’t take a keepsafe from our time together ere we part ways.”

-“And what you ask of the elves that have no momentos safe the memories we keep in songs and tales?” asked the elf.

-“From such a folk like yours, I would ask but a humble gift,” said Asadue, “One which though for common men might be only of little worth, to the sages is instead the prize of a thousand hoards. Just like the wooden kings asked just a few drops of my pupil’s blood, I desire a sample of the water from your pond. The pool of memories has properties I wish to study. I hope my curiosity does not insult you.”

-“Indeed among lesser men, it might not have much value,” said Cerydwein, “But among elves these waters are a treasure, which we would hardly forgo. Nevertheless, I deem your intent bears us no ill will, and the tales of your love towards lord Elbracht will live on in our songs. So, take what you please, for I cannot judge you unworthy of such a gift.”

Asadue thanked the noble Cerydwein, and presently he was given a vial and filled it with a samble of the water from the pool, and no elf from those who witnessed this dare to stand on his way or say anything against what he did. Hereon, the mentor spoke seldom of this vial, which he jealously kept from sight, and would mention it only once to his pupil. This did not stop, however, to write at great length thereof, and never used it for himself, but rather studied its qualities and trust its secrets to ink and paper. Yet, I will save his notes regarding this vial for another time.

Once they had recovered their strengths and replenished their provisions, the five men gathered their belongings and went to the second shrine, where before Edwald and his fellowship had been trapped. Now it was free of haze, and seemed far more fey under the day light. Despite the fairy breeze and fresh air, Edwald became anxious, for he saw upon the stone table that the cloak was missing and his sword as well.

-“Where is my sword and the cloak that laid next to it?” asked Edwald onto Cerydwein, “You promised me you would keep it while we stay here, but now I demand it back!”

-“There is no need for worries,” said the elf in a calm mood, unmoved by the anger of the young lord, “The cloak we shall keep for it was a token of good will, but the sword we shall have.”

As he said this, Cerydwein to his brother-elves behind and they handed over Oakenjaw, which shone with a new light, as if it had been altered in design.

-“Here is your brand,” he said, “But it is no longer the same blade you laid down, for the wooden kings have blest it, and it has been reforged, with new powers blended with its old ones. As I said before, when it was given to you it was tainted with dwarven rage and despite, yet we have cleansed this sword of all rage and wrath, and has become a weapon of sharper edge. Henceforth, you shall no longer be bound to the sentiment by which it was made and will now have a more stainless aim. Its original charms have been unchanged it has been enhanced with crafts of elves. In your hands, this blade will help you see the lies of the mind even before they are uttered though the mouth. Wild it with wisdom and bear it with grace, be true to yourself and you will grow to be the mightiest swordsman in the realm. Whenever you brandish it, remember whence you came, and never forget the things that here you have come to learn.”

Edwald took the sword back and in its hand it felt indeed like a new blade, even more powerful than it first was, and every time he swung it, he heard the voices of elves singing out from the steel. He said nothing, for there was some pride left in him that begrudged the elves for having asked him to go unarmed into their realm in the first place, but he thanked them nonetheless

-“Whither shall you go next?” asked the elf.

-“We will go back whence we came and then travel east,” Edwald answered, “The city of Myrlost is now our aim, there rules lord Tyén, a kinsman of sir Antuel. He is the family he has left, so he may be safe there.”

-“A sound plan it seems,” answered Cerydwein, “Yet I would no advice to go back to the Passing, for we have spotted men that wandered thereabout, and if what you said before is true, they will not be friendly towards you, so it will unwise to go whence you came. We will escort you to the east until we reach the eaves of the woods. It will be few days until you reach the burg of Fitz, from there you may go to the Cadia without many a wary eye following your trail.”

Edwald understood this and took his advice, so they left that place and went east of the fane. They travelled with ease beneath the shadows of trees for almost a day, until they reached the edge of the Oenic forest. There, the land was frozen still and vast meadows mantled with ice stretched out beyond their eyes.

-“Here we must part ways,” said Cerydwein, “And the path ahead promises much peril and dread. But we cannot follow you furthermore, for the day has not yet come when the elves should leave the woodland realm. So we bid you farewell and pray that you will succeed in your quest. Natedhý Edwald, Wielder of Truth, Natedý farewell!”

And so the elves left that place, and ventured back into the woods to the west. Asadue looked back and remembered once more the sign that was carved upon the portal of Locht Nelbáris, and he sensed there was indeed some truth to its warning, for here in the Passing, their hearts found rest, though it had come with a price too great to pay, all tears were cleansed, and so they were each time they wandered in dreams from the past, and memories were blest and held in honour and dignity after the Games of the Mind. The mentor understood now the wisdom of those words and foresaw that it would not be the last time they would come to visit the elves.

Nehlven Triad [https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/928675464401281116/1116457573420372108/Nehlven_Triad.jpeg]