Chapter 1: Du Namar Aurboda (set in the time around the fall of the riders)
A figure hunched in exhaustion, silhouetted by the red and pink hues exhibited by the sun setting over the plateau that joined the Crags of Tal'naeír . The figure stood, revealing a petite yet muscular frame and long hair. Raising her arms and placing her hands on the back of her head, the figure stretched out the cramps, stitches and sore muscles that had found a home on her body during her time away. Isolated by the wilderness all that could be heard by the lone figure were the whistles of the lonely wind and the cacophony of her beating heart and aching lungs.
The errands she ran were for her mother, Rhunön, the famous and millennia old smith of the elves. For the past year she had been searching the entire expanse of Du Weldenvarden for a substance known only to Rhunön, Elainæ, Riders and their Dragons and those at the receiving end of their attacks. This substance had properties that separated the weapons made of it and those of normal metal and was extremely rare. Rhunön had sent Elainæ on a quest to find all sources of the mysterious metal in the confines of Du Weldenvarden.
Heaving in exhaustion, Elainæ steadied her breathing and the beating of her heart and scouted her surroundings with her mind. This had provided her with many sources of relaxation whilst running between the elven cities and scouting the corners of Du Weldenvarden but at this moment all it served was to determine the distance between her and her home; the marvellous city of Ellesmera. She stretched her mind and found her mother in her forge and recoiled from her thoughts as she perceived a deep sense of loss emanating from her mother. Relaxing her thoughts and stretching further she found a great glowing ball of energy suspended over a meeting of great beings. Withdrawing into herself, Elainæ packed up her things and made her way back to Ellesmera at the steady gait elves were renowned for.
As she drew closer, Elainæ began to realise that she was not only exerting energy in her gait, but was also unconsciously providing energy to the gathering that centred in Ellesmera. As she strode towards her home she felt a tugging in her heart and was curious as to the large gathering. Pacing forward she began to realise that a discordant tune was being woven into life by the elves and dragons present. The deep, throaty hums of the dragons and the lilting and light melodies of the elves was being intertwined with magic to create a spell that far exceeded Elainæ's knowledge as a majority of the spell was being focussed by the wordless magic created by the dragons. Never before in her two hundred years of life had Elainæ seen such a large group of dragons performing magic in a scripted manner and she wondered what she had missed in her century long journey around Du Weldenvarden. As she thought of The Guarding Forest that housed her race she realised not only were the dragons and elves providing energy and lyrics to the spell, but so too was the forest. As she saw through her senses she saw tendrils of energy weaving their way through the forest and gathering themselves before the Menoa Tree and continuing in one constant stream towards the sphere of pure energy in the sky.
Exhausted mentally and physically from the journey and her participation in the gathering Elainæ strode home. She cautiously looked into the forge and found her mother, still bent over the smouldering pit she had herself focussed on. Elainæ, deciding not to interrupt her train of thought, simply strode past her mother and wisped her way into her room before falling into her waking dreams.
... She was with dragons, riders and elves; somehow there but not. Elainæ was both conscious and yet in her dreams. She witnessed a group of 12 dragons all gathered inside a massive circle of dragons. The tugging that she felt earlier had returned but had multiplied tenfold and began to tear her inside, threatening to split her in two. She felt the same from everyone gathered in the dream and realised that she recognised every elf and could feel consciousness emanating from each of them the same as they felt from her. One by one, she felt herself struggling to remain whole as the apparitions of the 12 dragons gradually began to fade until all that was left was a facade of being that transcended into every being. She felt the consciousness of the dragons conform to one and project their mental voices, to say in the ancient language as one "The Banishing of the Names is done" Elainæ once again felt whole but also had a grave sense of loss as the names of the Wyrdfell's dragons had forever been erased from memory.