This story I have thought about writing for awhile. I have always loved the avariel and feel there isn't enough written about them. So I took it upon myself to write a story. It's set during the last Crown War, just before the Elven Court destroyed House Vyshaan, the rules of Aryvandaar. Hope you enjoy it! Please read and review. I don't mind flamers! If you think my story sucks, that's fine just tell me why and how you would make it better. It's the only way to grow as a writer. I feel too many people just read stories on fan fic an don't review for whatever reason. I mean a get alot of hits on my stories but only two or three reviews. So, please please if you read this story, review it. You won't hurt my feelings if you don't like it.


Explosions filled the air overhead as the avariel mages rushed into the throne room. A beautiful female leapt from the throne and soared several feet landing in front of the gathered mages. The several of the mages inhaled sharply at this break in protocol. No ruler of any realm, elven or otherwise would stand, let alone leap in the presence of their subjects.

The female could sense their thoughts, "Traditions be damned. We are under attack. What news?"

"Your Majesty, the gold elves of Aryvandaar have overcome our outer defenses. They will be within the city in moments", Bryndael Starcloud said, bowing his head slightly. Bryndael was the Grand Mage of Evaedir.

"Those cursed battle platforms are simply too strong for us. And their forces outnumber ours ten to one. I would order a retreat but our young and elderly would be at the mercy of their griffon riders", Verec Ironwing, the Blade Major of their forces chimed in.

Amidaelis Starsky, the Coronal of Evaedir gazed out the glass-steel window. She could see the invading army of Aryvandaar closing around the city. Their battle platforms were one of the most impressive feats of strength and magic known in all Faerun. She could see the griffon riders swoop in attacking the avariel defenders. The riders attacked with spell, while their griffon mounts moved in to shred the wings of the distracted avariel. The sight of her fellow avariel falling from the sky weighed heavily upon her heart. She could see the griffons outflanking the avariel trying to cut off any escape route.

"Your Majesty, we must make haste. We cannot hope to hold out much longer", Raziel Moonshade stated breathlessly. The High Priestess of Aerdrie Faenya was the oldest of all the avariel of this mountain city. Her patience and compassion were legendary.

"Our people have survived endless dragons attacks over the centuries. We are finally rebuilding and now to fall at the hands of our land-bound kin... Blessed Aerdrie, why?", Amidaelis dropped her head. The despair over the destruction of her beloved city almost too much to bear.

"Giilvas Vyshaan seeks power. Power over all the High Mages of Faerun", Bryndael said, his snowy white wings rustled slightly as he stepped forward. The old mage reached inside his robe and withdrew a brilliant sky blue gem. "He seeks the selu'kiira of the sky."

"For what purpose?" Verec asked staring at the gem.

"As I said power. In the days when Faerun was young, elves were just beginning to unlock the secrets of High Magic. Four Mages who represented each of the basic elements fire, water, earth and air, placed their knowledge in a high lore gem, the selu'kiira, so their understanding and secrets would be handed down through the generations that followed. One of their apprentices wanted to master all four gems. After a lengthy destructive battle, the High Mages of old decided the gems were too powerful to be kept together. A keeper of each gem was selected. Each mage was to hold their gem in secret away from all others, so no elf would ever be tempted to command such power. The power-mad Giilvas seeks to command all four gems and use that power to bind all other high mages. If he succeeds, the destruction unleashed by House Vyshaan would be unspeakable", Bryndael let his word sink in around all those gathered. "I am the keeper of the selu'kiira of the sky."

"Is possible that he has gathered the other gems?", Amidaelis asked fearing the answer.

"What is possible or impossible, I cannot say. I have tried to contact the other keepers to no avail. Which can only mean they are dead," Bryndael said, tucking the gem back within his robe.

"How do we stop him?" Verec asked.

Raziel the aged priestess stepped forward, adjusting her wings, "The Seldarine have summoned their chosen to the Elven Court. The fate of House Vyshaan will be decided there. I fear their aid will come too late to save Evaedir, Your Majesty."

Amidaelis sighed deeply and stretched her wings, "If Evaedir is to be destroyed then we will exact a high price from our would be conquerors!" She stood tall and regal, the Coronal of Evaedir. "Verec, prepare a guard for our young and elderly! An orderly retreat from the city must begin at once", she commanded.

"Yes, My queen", he said bowing and then leaping into to air and winging out of the tower.

"Raziel, gather the clergy of Aerdrie Faenya, our Blessed Mother. I want them to organize the retreat. You as our spiritual leader must be among those that flee," Amidaels said, raising her and dimissing the ancient avariel before she could protest. "You must live! As the Chosen of Aerdrie, our people will need your guidance, now more than ever."

Raziel bowed and slowly took flight. Her silver wings though ancient, were still strong. The Coronal turned to the mages of Evaedir, "You know what I must ask of you, I...," her voiced faltered, she was unable to continue.

"You need not ask, milady. We serve the people of Evaedir, in life and in death if necessary," Bryndael said, bowing his head. Amidaelis' eyes welled with tears. Any monarch would be fortunate to have such bravery among their subjects. These mages offered their lives selflessly.

"Where is my son? Where is Jondaroth?", she asked. Drogan, her chief court advisor stepped forward. Drogan Shadowbreeze was a middle-aged elf, who had served her since her father's death a few centuries past. His deep black wings, a rare occurance among the elves of Evaedir, stood out among the gathered court attendants.

"He is with the armathora, milady," Drogan stated. "He is leading the defense of the eastern tower."

"Summon him at once," she commanded with grim determination. Jondaroth would lead the retreat of their people. He will soon be the next Coronal of Evaedir. A ruler without a throne. Drogan bowed, then turned and jumped into the air. Amidaelis watched him leave. Jondaroth would put up a fight. She knew he would stay and fight until his last breath, but that was her duty not his. Amidaelis turned to face her mages again.

"Let us prepare. If Evaedir is to fall, it will not fall silently nor without a steep price in Aryvandaar blood!"

To be continued! R & R!

To be continued!