The first thing in the room I noticed was Tobias, seated on a cushioned chair, by the far door.
"What are you doing here?" I immediately demanded. "Didn't I tell you to wait for me at the tavern?"
"Yes, but come on Keledrial…how often do I ever listen to you?"
"Good point…but why are you here?" I whispered.
"I didn't want to miss the show," he winked. Annoyed, I dumped Sera in his lap, and told him to be useful, at the very least. Sera immediately let out a piercing squeal of happiness, and demanded that "Toby" should tell her a story about dragons.
"You don't mind, Keledrial, that we invited your friend here? We thought it might be easier for you," my mother stated, as she walked over to me. She sounded so cautious, that I had to sigh.
"No mother, I do not mind."
"And I'm sorry that the children woke you…" she added further.
"Mother, please stop apologizing," I said. "If I minded, I would tell you."
"It's only that you seemed so upset at the sight of…Kedriel earlier," she explained. I shrugged.
"Why wouldn't I be? I have spent the last four decades believing myself an only child…and the past year thinking that perhaps when I returned to Evermeet it would be to learn that the whole house had been destroyed."
"No, thank the Seldarine…Leuthilspar did not see much battle, during that dark time," she replied, knowing that I meant the attack on Evermeet, without my having to say so. "Most of the fighting happened in other places…like Corellon's grove."
"Is that how you were hurt?" I asked, gently, gesturing to her leg. She nodded.
"When the call to battle went out, all were needed…even Sylthas went…I just happened to have the misfortune of being near a tower when it fell…the rubble crushed my leg…and it has taken this long to repair," she explained, in a matter of fact tone. I suppose, though, that she'd had plenty of time to become used to the injury.
"I am sorry I was not here," I said, as I sat down in a chair beside her.
"I am not…had you been here we might have lost you," my mother stated.
"Are you so certain that I am not lost anyhow?" I asked, shooting a glance to my father…who believed I had no elvenness left in me.
"We read what happened to you," my father stated. "I can't express how sorry I am that we allowed that to happen to you. But I want you to tell me the truth…do you still hear this voice you spoke of?" Slowly I shook my head.
"I did, yes, until this very morning…when I ran from here, I went to the river…he was with me, screaming at me for being weak…taunting me…I've heard Airk for so long now, that I hardly notice him…but a gold elf was there…and he spoke with me… calmed me…and when he left, Airk was silent…as though he'd never been," I explained.
"A gold elf, you say?" my father asked. I nodded. "And the voice is gone?"
"I have not heard it," was my response. My parents exchanged a glance that I could not decipher. I wonder if they believed me. There was silence for a moment, as though everyone was waiting for someone else to speak first.
"I do not know what to do, now," I finally said, quietly. "I did not expect this…any of this. I feared that I would come here to find all dead and gone…or at the least, to find Aunt Halaema here, Sylthas as heir, and myself unwanted."
"That isn't tru.." Sylthas began to interrupt, but I held up a hand to silence him.
"But that is what I expected. The truth is, I came back to Evermeet because it is home…and because it has been my highest goal for all this time. Now that I am here…I feel as though I am still lost…and do not know where my place should be."
"We'll figure things out, son," my father assured me. "We'll take everything one step at a time, and one day at a time. What matters is that you are home at last…everything else can be worked out from there."
The conversation only went on from there. We covered a variety of subjects. Despite having already read my story, my parents still wanted to hear, from my own lips what had happened. I told them as much as I could. I found that some things were very hard to speak of aloud…mostly my failures…and curiously enough the love I had felt for the Windreivers. It almost seemed like I was betraying my parents by speaking of that love, and at the same time, I felt as though I was betraying the Windreivers by remaining silent. Even without Airk's voice, I still find I am possessed of conflicting emotions.
At one point, Sera, who was no longer occupied by Tobias, shifted to her true form, no doubt to gain more attention. Apparently only my parents had read the truth about Sera, for everyone else, save Tobias, myself, and them, was almost comically surprised by her transformation. I learned then that many of the dragon protectors of Evermeet had also died in the attack…and that Sera's presence would be welcomed…not that I had ever doubted it.
Over the next few days, I found that my parents were never far from me, their closeness almost stifling at times. In many ways they still treated me as though I was the same frail child I was, and I had to force myself not to be irritated. They, too, need time to adjust, and to realize that I am no longer frail, nor am I a child.
We have spoken briefly about what place I might find for myself, now that I was home. Obviously becoming a high mage was no longer an option…not after the loss of the towers. I have thought that I might apprentice to an elven smith, learning to better my skills at the forge, and to expand on the use of magic in the creations of items. My parents have also mentioned that there are still plenty of wizards on Evermeet, many of whom could help me with my magical studies. I am a bit of leery of that, however. I have learned, and become comfortable in my own use and style of magic…and I do not know that I will need much more instruction.
I also hinted that I might join the army of Evermeet. After all of the people, even the nobles are required to offer their service in one form of another to better the protection of Evermeet…however I sensed mild disapproval in my father at the suggestion. While he might not mind my joining the royal guard, a soldier in the army was too common…or at least that is the feeling I sensed from him. He is a good man, but a noble through and through…and with that nobility comes an innate snobbery, that even I am not fully free of.
The truth of the matter is, that I find my father and I are at odds when it comes to a great many things. He does not even fully approve of my association with Tobias…claiming that Tobias is not a proper elven name, nor does Tobias have a proper elven family. I gather that he does not approve of Tobias moon and sea elven blood, or the way Tobias was raised. Still, he had been unfailingly polite to Tobias, and cannot seem to help being interested in the songs and tales Tobias knows from the mainland.
My father also does not seem to like the idea of my being a smith; once again I think it is because he believes the job to be too common. The problem is, I think, that my father had always been dead-set on my becoming a wizard, and his mind-set has not yet grasped that I have more skills than just my talent for magic.
Mother has, at least, been more understanding. She tries her best to be diplomatic, and often interrupts my father and I, just before the conversation gets out of hand. For the most part, she keeps her counsel to herself, content to listen to my ideas, although I think she is silent more because she is still watching me, marveling over my return and subsequent altered appearance. I think that she, too, is still having a hard time reconciling the Keledrial I am, with the Keledrial I was.
True to his promise, Sylthas has tried to be helpful. He and Tobias thought that it might be good for me to get away from all that was happening. They came up with the idea of going down to the Green Sword Tavern one night, about a week after my return. Apparently Tobias had informed Sylthas of my penchant for bars, and drinking. So I went with them, leaving Sera in the care of my mother. Sera is quite taken with her "grandmother," and mother, to her credit, treats Sera as though she is the daughter of my blood, and not a dragon. That, added to the fact that Sera need only ask to get whatever she desires, and I swear that Sera will soon be the most spoiled child in the whole world!
The trip down the tavern did seem like a good idea at the time. But from the moment we walked in, things did not go quite as planned. There was silence within moments of our entrance…I had to duck to get in through the front without bashing my head against the beam. The place was simply full of moon and green elves…many of whom appeared to members of the guard, taking a rest after work. The silence was resounding, as all bars sounds ceased, and I felt eyes upon me. Angrily, I moved to leave…I do not like to be stared at…except by lovely women, of course… Sylthas and Tobias stopped me.
"Give them time, Keledrial," Sylthas urged. "You are very unusual…and just think, when King Zaor was younger, I am certain he got the very same reception."
"Besides…you've dealt with winged dwarves, paladins of Tyr, and shadow thieves…our own people should hardly be a deterrent," Tobias added. Talking began to resume, quietly, and I felt my ears burning, knowing that the conversations were all about me.
At that moment, a pair of moon elven guards approached. Their faces were familiar to me, remembered from childhood. They greeted Sylthas.
"Who is this, Sylthas?" one of them, then asked, getting to the point. Finally I put a name to the face. His name was Elynwyd, and his friend was Ryhvain. They had both been among the children who'd tormented me when I'd been younger.
"What, you do not remember me, Elynwyd? Ryhvain? I am saddened to know you forgot me so easily. After all, you did laugh so when you dumped that pot of black ink into my hair, Elynwyd…it took me months before it washed out entirely...but I am certain that you really did trip, as you said. And then there was the incident with the honey that was poured all over the bench I always sat on…I am certain it was an accident, just as you claimed, Ryhvain," I stated pleasantly. I once said that I had not forgotten the names of any of the elven children, nor had I forgotten the things they had done…and I meant it. I was gratified to see their faces contort in confusion, and then dawning realization. Unfortunately, Sylthas interrupted before I got to see horror…
"This is my cousin, Keledrial…you both remember him, of course."
"Didn't Keledrial die?" Elynwyd asked, trying not to stare.
"No…he was just lost to us…but now he's come home," Sylthas stated.
"You can't be Keledrial…Keledrial Nightstar was such a weakling!" Ryhvain exclaimed.
"Ah…and you are as tactful as ever, Ryhvain," I stated in response, my hands fairly itching to deck him. I noted that both Tobias and Sylthas moved slightly, blocking me from an easy strike.
"Oh relax," I muttered. "Short of dwarves and goblins, I never hit those who are smaller than me." I was gratified when I looked over to them to see them fuming over the comment. I half expected to them to attack me then, at my snide remark, however, I was disappointed when they did not. They both backed down, Elynwyd saying,
"Well…I suppose we should…welcome…you back, then." He certainly did not sound as though he meant it.
The rest of the evening was quiet enough, although I hated knowing I was being stared at, knowing that I was being talked about. And I found that elven wine, for all its vaunted reputation did not have nearly the kick of a mug of Moonshaes moonshine…but it does taste considerably better, though.
Well, it has happened, and sooner than I expected. A summons arrived at the house yesterday, from the moonstone palace. The Queen asks for mine, and my family's presence at the palace. We are to leave, later this afternoon. Everything around the house has been rather hectic, especially with the tailors flitting about. They are in a rush to finish my new clothing before the meeting. My parents, upon my third day back, ordered Sera and I new wardrobes, most of which is as yet unfinished. When I tried to pay for the things, however, my parents refused. The reply was that they were my parents, and were quite capable of providing for me. It is rather irritating to be treated like a child, once more, when it is not what I am. They would not even let me pay for Sera's garments, even though, by their own excuse, I am her parent, and more than capable for providing for her as well. They would not hear of it.
So I spent most of the morning, being poked and prodded with pins, and needles, being forced to dress and undress, and being attended by servants as I bathed (they simply would not leave, even though I assured them I didn't need any aid). I was forced to sit still as my hair was trimmed, and braided into an "acceptable" style. The tailors kept complaining that they weren't used to making such "huge" clothing…as though I was some giant or something. My father was nearby the whole time, overseeing the process…nodded when things met his approval, and glaring when they didn't.
Finally, when Sera came running in from wherever she'd been hidden away, naked, and covered in soap…looking as though she'd just escaped from a bath, and crying that she didn't want her hair cut, I expressed my annoyance.
"ENOUGH!" I shouted, startling everyone.
"Keledrial, there is no need to shout…it's vulgar. And there isn't time to take a break…not if you want to be presentable when you meet the queen," my father stated.
" I have met the queen before, and I will not meet her again, looking like a damned peacock!" I stated, pulling off the garish tunic the tailors were working on.
"And as for Sera, I will finish her bath, and she does not need her hair cut. And if you do not want her whining we go to the palace, she needs to have a nap."
"Keledrial," my mother began, as she came into the room, her sleeves rolled up, the front of her tunic wet and soap-covered.
"Stop!" I held up my hand, suddenly feeling crowded. "I know what is best for me, and what is best for my daughter! I can't breathe with all these people in here!" And with that I strode from the room.
I managed to calm down as I finished Sera's bath. She was fine in the water, so long as she was allowed to play, splashing the water about, and so forth. Since I didn't really think she would sit still long enough to have her hair cut…and not that it was really necessary anyhow, I merely brushed it out, and braided it, in the style that Ruathym women tended to wear, with one braid hanging over each ear. I redid my own hair as well, seeing as the braid they'd put in was so tight, my head was beginning to ache. I tried to make Sera take a nap, but she was far too excited by all the goings on, so we went for a walk in the house gardens for a bit.
By the time we went back inside, it was nearly time to depart for the palace. I was given disapproving looks from my parents, looks which I pointedly ignored. I dressed in the clothing, which had been finished; a dark blue, spider-silk tunic, interwoven with silver threads, and embroidered with my house symbol, the eight-pointed star. Matching boots, pants, and a jacket were provided as well, and by the time I was dressed, I was covered completely from the neck down, and still felt like a damned peacock. I was used to wearing the sleeveless tunics that Ingrid had always made for me, so it felt odd to have my arms covered…but I suppose that my parents did not want my "human-style" tattoos showing.
Sera wore an outfit that almost matched mine. They'd wanted to make her dress even fancier than my clothing, but I'd argued, and convinced them that with Sera, simpler was better. So she wore a blue over-dress, with a cloth-of-silver underdress, stockings, and a pair of blue-dyed slippers. Someone had taken her braids out while I dressing, and most likely worked a cantrip to cause her hair to curl up into blue ringlets, tied up with a large blue ribbon. Sera looked quite po0uty about the whole thing, and I sympathized. I certainly never recall that there had been this much pomp and ceremony about going to meet the queen when I was younger, but then again much has changed, and I do tend to remember things in a different light than they may have happened.
After being given a critical once over, we departed for the palace. I happened to glance at my reflection on the way out the door, only to be startled, for I did not recognize myself. The familiar Keledrial was gone, replaced with some one could only be described as an elven noble. Yet for all that my appearance had changed, the expression had not…I felt that I should have been happy at the change…that I was becoming, once more, what I was meant to be, and yet I was not happy. I felt more as though my life was out of my control…that I was being forced into a mold that I no longer fit. Perhaps I am only being perverse, though. It is possible that I must give this all more time…that it will become familiar once more…after all this is what I wanted, wasn't it?
Sera stared in awe, as we entered the moonstone palace, and I too felt a bit of that same emotion. As a child I'd always taken the palace for granted, but with my older, and more experienced perspective, I had to admit that there was nothing like it in the whole of the world. We went in through the main gate of the palace, which is made out of solid gold. The towers of the palace rose above us, a vast gleaming mix of gold, silver, and white.
My parents walked through familiar corridors, leading the way. We passed many open rooms, and groups of nobles as we walked through the soaring hallways, and galleries. We stopped when we neared the throne room, my parents speaking briefly with the one of the queen's seneschals. We were told that the Queen preferred a more informal meeting, and were led out to the grounds of the palace, into one of the gardens.
The garden was one of the crystal gardens, a beautiful place where large, crystal grew from the ground, some towering in height, higher than the trees. This particular garden was all of pale blue and green crystals, with beds of flowers planted to match.
We were announced by our attendant as a small pavilion, and the queen came into view as we rounded a corner of hedge.
Queen Amlaruil was seated on a cushioned chair, embroidered with a design of the sea. Dressed in a flowing gown of multi-hued gray silk, her coppery hair was loose about her shoulders, a simple circlet of silver around her brow. I could not help staring for a moment at her…she was as beautiful as I remembered…in this my memory had not failed me. And yet, to see her without King Zaor…it was like imagining the sun without the moon. But there had been a change in her, and I saw it immediately.
Her smile was gone.
That very realization made me feel ill…how could anyone have dared to steal the Queen's smile? And she seemed almost ethereal, as though she was not truly part of this world. My heart nearly cracked with grief for her…her own grief muted, but still a palpable thing.
My parents approached her first, both bowing deeply, and speaking in low tones. I could not hear their words, but I knew it was about myself that they were speaking. I watched closely hardly able to tear my gaze away for more than a moment, and yet at the same time, I dreaded what was coming. I dreaded having to explain to the queen all the things I had to explain…the ways I had failed the people. And then she called me, her voice hardly more than a whisper, causing me to remember my earlier shouting, and mentally agree with my father over the vulgarity of it all.
"Come, Keledrial. I would speak with you," she said. I moved forward, even as my parents stepped to the side. I bowed slowly to her, my heart pounding cruelly. I met her eyes only once, but broke contact quickly. I felt her watching me…
"You have changed…more than I ever would have thought possible," she began, her voice so quiet…so devoid of the joy I once heard in it. "I have heard it told that you have returned to us…that you were being kept in a human culture, the time you were from us. Tell, me if this is true, young Nightstar?"
"It…it is true my queen…that and more," I felt then to my knees, at her feet, head bowed, as familiar anguish coursed through me.
"Please my queen, I beg your forgiveness. I have failed you, and all the people," I confessed.
"How have you failed us?" The queen asked.
"I was not here in Evermeet's hour of most dire need…so much a fool that I could not find my way home. And further, I learned too late of the woe in Evereska, when I was on the mainland, too caught up was I in human troubles. I do not know that my meager presence would have made any difference, but in not being here, I have failed you, and for that I can never forgive myself," I explained. She was silent for a long moment, a moment that seemed an eternity before it ended.
"You are forgiven, Keledrial, for the crime you feel you have committed. I feel I must say that I am glad you were not here, in a way, for had you been even now Evermeet might be one more warrior short. Yet, I tell you now, that we are glad to have you back." Though her forgiveness meant much to hear, I still do not feel that I deserved it. I wanted to look up, wanted to express my sorrow over the loss of the King, but I could not…not knowing that it might bring further grief to her to speak of what had happened. Then, as the awkward silence grew, for I could not bring myself to speak, Sera interrupted.
"Daddy?" she asked, "Who's dat?"
Perhaps I should have mentioned that she has taken to calling me "daddy," after hearing my sisters and brother both referring to our father in such a term. I gather that Kedriel also said something to Sera on the topic, and for several days now, she has begun using the term…still, as much as I like to be recognized for what I feel that I am to her, I miss "Kele." As always, I cannot refuse Sera anything…not even an answer in the presence of my Queen. Even though it had been explained to her earlier where she would be going, and whom we were to meet with, one could not expect her to remember such important things yet. She is, after all, just a baby. I looked over to her, straightening up, and holding my hand out for her to take.
"This is the Queen of the people, Sera, Queen Amlaruil." Sera tried the name out as best she could, shortening it a bit.
"Am…ril?" She questioned. I nodded.
"Who is this little one?" The Queen asked suddenly. I glanced up to her, and drew courage as I saw a hint of a smile in the Queen's eyes.
"She is Kaithseraly Nightstar, your highness…and she is my daughter."
"A child…you are so young," the queen stated, watching Sera.
"She is adopted, your highness…and a bit unusual," I began.
"How so?" The queen asked.
"I found Sera shortly after her mother had been slain by several red dragons, my queen. I have cared for her since then. Sera is, you see, a silver dragon." At that, I pulled the ties at the shoulder of Sera's dress, and told her to show the queen her true form. Sera, who had not changed into her draconic form for many months, happily shifted her shape back to her real form. She had, I noted, gained several more inches in length and height. She flapped her wings, and hovered in the air for a moment or two.
"Look, Daddy!" she called, as adorable in dragon form, as elven. I let her flap about a bit, then beckoned her down, my heart soothed, by her mere presence. If nothing else, Sera alone, made my time in the human world worth all the effort, pain, and suffering. To my surprise, and horror, Queen Amlaruil looked for a moment, as though she was about to cry.
"We lost so many of the dragons during the attack," she whispered. Before I had even a moment to begin apologizing, Sera veered off her course, and fluttered over to the Queen. She hovered in the air, by Queen Amlaruil for a moment, and smiled.
"Don' cry. I love you," Sera said, finally, using the same words she had when she'd seen me upset. The Queen smiled at that, and I felt the tenseness within me subside.
"Come child, sit here," she said to Sera, gesturing to another chair, nearby. Sera daintily flapped over, and seated herself on the chair. Hardly paying much attention, my daughter was absorbed with her own tail, as she said,
"Hi, I'm Sera!"
"Indeed you are," the Queen replied. Then she looked back to me.
"Keledrial, come here. I wish you to speak with me a while, and tell me of what has happened to you since you were lost to us." It was a demand that I could not refuse. The queen dismissed my parents, and proceeded to listen and question me carefully about much of what had occurred since I left Evermeet. The Queen is not the kind of person I would ever lie to, or even attempt to keep information from. To every question she asked, I answered truthfully. And after I spoke with her, I felt somewhat better…knowing that as long as she was in this world, that things would somehow work out right…and further, that my troubles were a small thing when compared with hers. I shall always remember what she said as Sera and I took our leave…
"Welcome Home Keledrial and Sera Nightstar."
Keledrial Nightstar
Much time has passed since last I wrote in these pages… years in fact, since my return to Evermeet. I cannot help thinking about the day I came back, the elf who spoke with me at the river…and of Lita…how is it that two people, both so very different, could guess the same thing about me…a thing that I never would have guessed or believed for myself. And yet for all that, they were right…and I was wrong…I do not belong here, any longer. I do not belong on Evermeet.
To admit such a statement is harder than I can possibly describe, and yet I say it with conviction I am fast beginning to feel…and feel stronger with each passing day. To understand this conclusion, I suppose that I must explain the goings on of the past years, and the changes within me, that have brought me to this.
And perhaps it seems strange that it has been so long since I wrote, especially seeing as Evermeet is not Ruathym…here books are a thing to treasure, and parchment and ink abound. So why have I not written? The answer is simpler than one might think…I find that I have no time, and further, had no inclination to do so. For a time I convinced myself it was not necessary any longer. My people knew of me, knew the truth of what had happened to me…there was no need to further tell a known story, was there? And there were so many people to talk to…people who would listen, and not condemn, and for a time that also stayed my hand. But I find that all my excuses aside, I have always used this journal as a way to work out my own thoughts and problems, and to recall things which have faded from memory. It helps me, and I have once more reached a point in my life where I need that aid.
To understand what has brought me to this, I will explain what has happened since that day I spoke with the queen.
What began the first week of my return only began to grow worse. My arguments with my father grew louder. I did not agree with him on many topics…nor did he agree with me. I love my father dearly, but he has his ways of hurting me, all the same. He is not like Brander, who would strike me if I misbehaved, or punish me with work at the forge. My father cuts with his words.
I told him that I wished to continue my work in metals…I knew full well that there are many elven smiths in Evermeet…perhaps some of the greatest smiths in the world…and yet though my father holds the greatest respect for those men and women, he refused to allow me, his son, to consider such a profession. I tried to explain that I was good with metal, that I had learned much, that working at the forge calmed me, oft times when little else could. He would not have it…not for me, the work of the commoner he said. I love my father, but I have come to realize just what a "noble" he is. Nightstar is an old house, you see, but Hawksong is older still, and my father had been raised with the belief that older meant more important…a belief which he has, I am sorry to say, passed on to me. And yet I do not hold all of his prejudices. I wanted to do what I wanted to do, and his distain be damned! He reminded me of my talent, my gift for the weave, adding that not to pursue such would be the worst sort of waste, especially after all that Evermeet lost in the attacks. I reminded him that smiths, and warriors were also lost…and asked why he was so determined that I focus everything on but one of my skills. He could not give me a satisfactory answer. I accused him of being as narrow minded as the gold elves, and as stubborn as a dwarf. It was weeks before we spoke again.
In the end, it was my mother who aided my cause. Mother and Aunt Halaema have ever been more open-minded, although that maybe due to, in part, their having to assume the leadership of house Nightstar at such a young age. Mother spoke with father, and the result was thus: if it was a wizard, warrior, smith, and father I wished to be, than so be it. She warned me though, that it would not be easy, for my attention would be split in that many directions. She added further, that whatever I decided to do, I would not be allowed to neglect my responsibilities as the heir to my house.
I was determined to prove that I could do all of those things, and do them so well that I would dazzle my family. The need to prove myself, not only to them, but to the rest of my people as well, fairly burned within me.
You see, I learned quickly that even being the heir of my house was not enough deterrent to keep tongues from wagging. I soon learned that I was the source of a great deal of conversation, and speculation…among the commoners, and my fellow nobles alike. The rumors reached my ears eventually, for Tobias, if nothing else, can gather information. Sylthas, being my cousin, also heard many of these rumors from friends of his…people who were "worried" for him. It did not take much effort to convince Tobias or Sylthas to spill what they knew.
The people thought I was insane…and if not, certainly on the verge of it. I was not trusted…for while my height was great it was not so uncommon…but my breadth…a different tale all together. They feared that I had been alternately broken or corrupted by the humans who'd taken care of me for so long…and any defense of the Ruathym on my part only fueled their speculations.
Further, among the nobles, I was seen as lacking in judgment. Word had gotten out of my association with Elaith Craulnober, and for some reason, the people were inclined to believe the tales told about him. In that, I found myself disgusted by my fellows…and did not hesitate to defend Elaith…again, making me unpopular.
It seemed that, after so long, my great skill with magic was forgotten. After all I was no longer the tragic, sickly boy to be pitied, but someone who looks dangerous…some one strong.
I began work at my chosen professions as soon as possible, for I have learned to dislike idleness. I was simultaneously apprenticed to a wizard, a smith, and a weapon master…for training. Eager to learn, I threw myself into the task, spending much of my daylight hours so engaged. All of my spare time went to Sera, who grew at a rapid rate.
At first my instructors were "patient" with me. They were all quick to say that they understood I had gone through a terrible "ordeal."
Things got worse from there. I once said that much of what I knew of my own culture was learned from books I had read…and that it more true than I could have imagined. Having had to so rarely interact with others, I hardly knew how to do so…worse, I was ill equipped to do so. I grew quickly frustrated at the slow pace of learning that my "teachers" set forth for me. They, all three of them, claimed that the way I had learned things was the wrong way…N'Tel-Quessir way…the "not-people" way.
The smith told me I had to relearn my entire technique… that I worked too quickly, often lamenting that he had to undo the damage wrought upon me by the teachings of the Ruathym. The weapon master was hardly much better. A member of the Evermeet army, the first thing he tried to do was force me to give up the use of great axe and great sword both. He claimed that neither weapon was appropriate for a Teu-tel quessir of noble birth such as myself. When he gave me a long sword to use, however, I merely laughed at him. It was such a small, light weapon in my hands, that even considering wielding it seemed like a jest. My instructor did not take my laughter well. He worked me mercilessly, informing me that if I wished to become a warrior, that I must learn the use of all weapons…even ones I considered beneath me…all spoken in a tone of voice that suggested I was naught but some green, child who'd never seen combat, or spilt blood.
Needless to say, my ability to enter a battle rage was met with a great deal of debate. The members of the army and guard who knew of me, had met, or seen me fight were spilt in their opinions of such an ability. On the one hand, there were many who believed that I would be a great asset to Evermeet, and the warriors here. To be able to fight without feeling pain, was a great thing they said. And my strength…many of them asked just what the humans had fed/done to me to have granted me such power…asking further what they could do to achieve such. These were the ones, who despite everything, I would almost call friends.
On the other side, however, were the dissenters. These, my own instructor among them, were horrified. A rage was nothing more that a deadly, and dangerous loss of control, they said. My skill with weapons was crude, they added, although they were many among them who fell to me in the practice ring…barbarian style or no. And furthermore, I would be a detriment to the army, they stated…a danger to my own allies in any real battle. I gather that they either did not believe that I had been an adventurer, that I could have possibly fought, and defeated powerful enemies…or that they used it as more ammunition against me.
My wizardry teacher was somewhat better than the other two…as she certainly could find little enough fault in my magic-using style, which was most assuredly elven, as taught to me by the wizards of the towers of Evermeet. Nor could she fins fault with my skill…my hands never faltered at a spell, and magic rose easily within me, so very much a part of me, that I could control it with ease. In this alone, the people could find no fault in me. I was a wizard…in was in my blood, as surely as I had been blessed with the skill by the Seldarine themselves, or so it was said. In truth, it was not my skill in magic that got me in trouble in this particular case…it was my relationship with my "teacher."
There was a time, not so very long ago, that I believed myself to be undesirable…especially by women…I once thought that even the women of the people would find nothing in me to desire, for I am so different from most elven men. I no longer believe that. However, in the case of my wizardry instructor, it way not my physical appearance, but rather my wisdom that was lacking.
I quickly learned, that in magic, I was already her equal, if not her better, and yet she tried to convince me that I still lacked instruction. It became quickly apparent to me that the woman had convinced my parents to give my training over to her with fancy words, words that my parents, who know little of wizardry, did not truly understand. She did not wish to instruct me in magic, but in…other matters.
Her name was Lady Valanora Elwystl…not a noble, but not a commoner. She was Ar-Tel Quessir, a gold elf…and not all that skilled in magic to begin with. Her hands faltered at spells that I had mastered long ago…and yet she treated me as though it was I who was unskilled. I confess it took me some time to realize just what she about. At first she seemed innocent enough, laying her hands upon my shoulders, while I studied...but it grew from there, until even I, oblivious as I can be at times, knew what she wanted.
It was not like Rosaleen, whose flirtatious smiles, and gentle touches made me feel wanted…Lady Valanora is much older than I am…in fact, she is old enough to be my grandmother, and although she does not look it, I know this to be true. And I suppose that among the people, such a difference in age is not usually such an important matter, yet I found the very idea to be somehow…wrong. Furthermore, I felt no attraction for her. To some she may have seemed pretty, her long black hair, and green eyes were characteristic of the Ar-Tel Quessir…her faces was fair…but as I said I felt nothing for her, save perhaps irritation. My complaints to my parents about the woman's lack of magic skill went unheeded. After all, I had already proved that I knew only the human ways of fighting and forging…somehow, they assumed it was the same with my casting abilities…they having, conveniently, forgotten that I had already gained the core skills of casting long before I left Evermeet.
So I was forced to spend afternoons with Lady Valanora, learning nothing. Finally, I grew tired of her unwanted advances and told her so. Her green eyes narrowed dangerously for a moment, but then the expression was gone, and she returned to be pleasant. I assumed that would be the end of it.
A few days later, Lady Valanora declared we would work on alchemical solutions, and potions. In an almost acidic tone, she added, that while my skill in shaping the weave was formidable, my alchemical knowledge was lamentable. Since I had to agree with her assessment, I continued on finally agreeing to learn something she had to teach.
Strangely, she did seem to know quite a bit about potions and the like, and I was glad to be finally doing something…and in that vein, I was caught off my guard, when she finally dropped the other shoe, so to speak.
She had me work on a potion that she claimed would allow me insight into a given situation, a potion of clairvoyance that could be made without using magic, she claimed. I was not allowed to look a book while I worked, for she dictated the components to me, and how to properly combine. Since it was a thing she'd done before, I thought little of it. When I was finished, she told me a riddle, and said that I was to drink the potion, and see if I gained the desired effect, which would aid me in figuring out the riddle. I quaffed the drink, unthinkingly, even though, in retrospect, some of the components for the potion had seemed wrong somehow. A moment later I began to feel dizzy. My vision and hearing altered, reminding me of the few times I have been very, very drunk. I vaguely recall Lady Valanora watching me, a triumphant smile on her face…and feeling very confused.
The next coherent memory I have is of lying on the floor of the alchemy lab-room. My clothing was scattered about…and I was wearing none of it. The…"Lady" Valanora was seated beside me, wearing only a smug, and sated expression.
"There now…that wasn't so bad was it? I'd say you quite enjoyed it, Keledrial." She ran her fingers lightly along my thigh as she spoke.
I felt sick…both physically, and emotionally, as I realized what had happened. My head ached, as though I was in throes of the worst sort of hangover…and the aching I felt in several areas of my body lead me to the truthful conclusion of what had occurred. The "Lady" Valanora had drugged me to gain what she wanted: my…"willing" service. I'd been…forced into having sex with a woman that I felt nothing for…and worse, had already said "no" to. I might have laughed at the justice…the irony of it all, had I not felt so terribly sick and ashamed at the time.
I jerked away from her, managing my very best death-glare. I dressed as quickly as I could manage, all the while she tried to convince me that I had enjoyed it…that she couldn't understand why I was acting the way I was… Finally, when I had all my things and had gained a modicum of coherence, I moved to leave.
"Come now, Keledrial," Valanora said one last time. "Why are you acting this way…I know you wanted this as much as I did…you just needed a little encouragement. I understand that you're shy…why wouldn't you be after the horrid things that you've gone through?"
"Shy?!" I choked, suddenly. "I said "no"…that was not shyness! I did not desire what you have just forced me to do! And I swear that if you ever come near me again, you will not survive the encounter, as Corellon is my witness!" I added, in a cold, furious tone. I slammed out of her house a second later, and have never returned.
When I returned home, I found I could not speak to anyone about what had happened. Indeed, until now, I have not even been able to write of the experience. I was so angry at myself for being so foolish…at allowing myself to be so used. I felt sickened by the woman's deviousness, wondering how she could have thought to be able to justify her actions. I did not want anyone to know. I locked myself in my room for nearly a ten-day, unable to enter reverie or eat as my mind went over and over what had happened. I spoke with no one, though my parents, family, and friends alike tried their best to draw me out from my solitude. I used my spells and my silence to keep them at bay. I could not ever bear to face Sera…and they did try to use her to bring me out. Her tears were heart breaking, but I did not want to see even her…I felt that filthy, as though I might dirty my own daughter by seeing her.
It took me
time as I worked things over in my mind. To some degree I thought I deserved
what had occurred. After all, I had
once raped someone…Penelope, a victim who did not deserve what had happened to
her. Mayhap it was my final penance for
the crime…to have a similar act forced upon me…for though a drug had been used,
I had been no more willing in my mind, or heart, than Penelope had been.
At other times, I raged about the
injustice of it all, destroyed items in my room to satisfy my anger. After all,
I wondered…when would enough be enough?
Hadn't I managed yet, with all I'd done and gone through, to pay for my
crime? Or would it continue?
As I said, it took nearly a week of solitude to calm down…When I reached the point that I felt calm enough to face others again, and clean enough to leave my room, I did so, but not after vowing not to speak of what had happened. I just couldn't let anyone know the truth. So in the end, I told them nothing, though they asked and badgered endlessly over what had happened to so upset me. I knew that they knew something had happened involved Valanora, for I threatened violence if they tried to make me go near her again. But try as they might, I do not think that anyone managed to find out just what had happened.
Something changed in me, after that…and I cannot say it was for the better, or whether it was for worse, either. Corellon knows that I do not handle adversity well. I grew angry once more, as I had when I was among the Ruathym…angry at my fate, and angry at many around me. I took my aggression out on the soldiers I sparred with, and on the metal at the forge. I ignored the chastising of my parents, and remaining instructors, ignored the questions of Tobias and Sylthas, who tried hard to help me…
I saved my gentleness for Sera, and my younger siblings, for I was determined not to frighten them. I wanted them to grow older, and never know fear or rage or shame, as I did. My brother sees to have developed an attachment for me, for he began to take to following me about whenever I am home...mimicking my mannerisms. This has not gone over well with Sera however, who does not like any challenges to my affection.
The most trouble I have with the little ones is Sera and Kedriel's arguments…which usually end in fistfights…and my sisters, and little cousin are always flitting about, giggling… although I've noticed they all seem to have taken a definite liking to Tobias. They tend to sigh whenever his back is turned, and flutter their eyelashes, and giggle whenever he is around. They tend to ask about the mainland, although I suspect their curiosity is more about Tobias himself, than his stories. I do not mind it, so long as it remains the way it is: girlish infatuations, with nothing reciprocated. I do not even want to have to think about the idea of one of my friends, and one of my little sisters…
And yet, when I watch the girls attempt to work their wiles on Tobias, I began to wonder…were girls taught to be devious from a young age…or did it just come naturally to them? And in either case, would my sisters, or may the gods forbid, my Sera grow up, and act the same way to other men that Valanora had acted towards me? The idea was so repellent, I could not allow myself to ponder it long…but as time went on, the insidious thoughts crept in more and more frequently. And I found myself beginning to believe it. After all, I had always thought elven women to be the fairest and most virtuous of all women…and yet I was began to wonder. All my encounters with elven women not of my own blood, save for the queen herself, had gone badly. I once mentioned that all I really knew of the people had come from books I had read, and I began to wonder if all the much-touted superiority of the elven race was merely the writer's opinion…for thus far, I have found that the people can be every bit as intolerant, and cruel as many of the other races I have encountered.
Time went on and my frustration and anger grew. My outlets were fewer than they had been on the mainland. I took to riding Lashrael more and more often. The beast loves to be able to run, and I let him, savoring the sensation of near-danger the act gives me. In fact, just prior to deciding to write once more, after such a length of time has passed, I was out, galloping Lashrael through the Moon field, just outside Leuthilspar. I have grow quite good at riding, now that my fear is gone…and Lashrael does so love to startle the moon horses that graze there. We have gotten in trouble numerous times with our antics, but I pay them little mind. There are those among the people who made up their mind about me long ago, and I care little to hear their whining. I think they are just angry that I have allowed Lashrael to roam as he wills, and as such, he has impregnated no few mares of "pure-breed." I suppose it upsets them to have the blood of such "perfect" elven horses mixing with a beast so common as hot-tempered Lashrael. But as I said, I do not care…I come to enjoy the stir I cause with my actions…it is something, at least, that lets me know I am alive still.
Yet, riding has not been my only outlet…there have been others…but along with them has come a sense of apathy…mostly towards myself…but unfortunately, towards others as well, to some degree.
I shall tell you what I mean, and though it may seem unconscionable, I find that I have trouble caring.
You see, shortly after my…trouble with Valanora, I decided to test a theory… I meant to try to find even one elven woman, not of my blood, who cared more about who I was, rather than what I could give her…one way or another. I wanted to find one girl, who was not out to see what I looked like with my clothing off, or cower at me if I glared, or wonder how their name would sound with a Lady in front and Nightstar at the end. As of yet I have not found her…but as they have offered, so I have taken… and taken, regardless of who she was or what she wanted.
It seems, though, that there are no elven women who meet any of the requisites. Most want only a night in my bed…or two or three, sometimes. Many even broke relationships with others to have this night…or day. I give them what they want…and in the past decade and a half, I have had sex with so many women, I cannot remember them all. Needless to say, such behavior has not made me a favorite among my fellow males…nor have my parents been happy about this "lack of propriety" I have shown. I care not. To my fellows, I am doing a service. This way, when they find their "ladies" in my arms, they will know that the woman will not be faithful to them. It is better that they learn such a thing early on, rather than later.
There are three kinds, I have learned…well, perhaps four types of women. For the fourth, I must say their numbers are few. They are the rare women of faithfulness, loyalty, and love. They are women like my mother, and the queen…and so very rare, I am beginning to think. They are the kind of woman I will do my best to be certain that Sera grows into. Then there are the other three types.
The first group is the jades, and the thrill-seekers. They are the ones who seek me out for a bit of fun and adventure…the ones looking only for sex, or stories about what it was like to live among the "dreaded humans." They are almost laughable, but since I must alleviate my own boredom I take what they have to offer.
Then there is the second group: the women who are out to gain…be it my title or my wealth. They ply me with sweet words, telling me how brave and wonderful I am, blinking their eyelashes at me in a nauseating fashion. When these slip into my bed, it is always with the hope that I will "honor" them with marriage. I take what they offer, and then tell them that their ploys were for naught…
Which leads me to the third type of woman…a type which I, unfortunately, have been forced to associate with…
Women who are like my betrothed.
Yes, that is right, betrothed. Apparently, the contract between our families was drawn up a long time ago, when I was but a child. When my "wicked" ways started to become more apparent, evidenced by the angry or weeping girls, and often, their furious lovers, husbands, or fathers started showing up at Nightstar mansion, my parents thought to stop me by breaking the news to me.
I am betrothed, and have been since I was five years old, to a girl I have never met. For a time, the shock of knowing my marriage is all but arranged was enough to slow my activities. I demanded to meet my future bride, adding that contract or not, I would not have a wife who did not love Sera, and would not be faithful to me. So they arranged it.
Her name is Loreleiana Moonflower…a distant cousin of the Queen, herself. That fact alone made her a" worthy" match for me, according to my parents. But from the moment I met her, I knew that I did not wish to wed her, but I cannot, as yet, come up with a legitimate reason to break the betrothal.
You see, Loreleiana is a beautiful girl…her face is fair as the queen's. She is dainty and small, and everything about her is feminine. When we met for the first time, her eyes were downcast, and at first, I merely thought it to be maidenly shyness…or perhaps she was also nervous about meeting her betrothed for the first time. But then I saw her eyes…like Queen Amlaruil, she has perfect, sky flower colored eyes…and when she looked to me, I saw that those eyes were filled with fear…fear of me. Loreleiana, I have been told, is a gentle girl…she has never been away from Evermeet. In the few conversations I have held with her, I have garnered only that she is terrified of me, and what I am…that my size, and mannerism evince nothing but loathing in her, and that were there any way she could do so, and keep her family's honor, she would leave me at the very altar, and wed with the lowest commoner, instead. And she is not the only woman I have met who seems so inclined.
Needless to say, I have avoided her as best I can in the past years. I have heard, however, that he family is growing impatient. They want the contract fulfilled, and think that my parents have had more than enough time to make certain that I am properly elven…that all the damage done me by my "unfortunate associations" has been unwrought. On that front, I have little idea what to do, short of open rebellion…though I fear it may come to that, for I will not marry some quivering girl who loathes the sight of me, and would most likely faint away if I tried to touch her. Besides…Sera does not like her.
Sera…there has been another source of irritation that has been growing in me. Oh no, not Sera herself…my daughter is the greatest joy I have. She is so clever, and grows bigger with each passing year. Though she is still considered young by draconic and elven standards alike, she is no longer a baby. Her vocabulary has grown, and she is quite capable of carrying on a conversation, and speaking her mind. In size, her elven form is nearly of a height with a human child, some six or seven years of age. In her draconic form, however, she is nearly of a height with me, and weighs more than I do. She is the sweetest child, and always so quick to learn. She has told me this week that she wishes to be a singer…the week before, it was a soldier, and the week before that, a priestess. I have tried to tell her that she is only a child yet, and has many more decades in which to decide her profession. She only smiles, and laughs. But recently, she has begun asking when she will have a mother. She tells me that since Kedriel has a mother, she believes that she should as well. Since she has never been denied anything, it is hard to deny her this…but in this case things are far more complicated. She doesn't seem to understand that I cannot just go out and bring her back a mother…and though I could always follow my parents wishes and wed the simpering Loreleiana, I cannot stomach the thought. Besides, I know that Loreleiana would never be able to handle a child as spirited as my Sera…nor would Sera want a mother as weak and foolish as Loreleiana…and frankly, I think the silly thing would scream herself to death if I were to marry her, and then tell her she had gained a silver dragon for a daughter.
And yet, I digress…I could go on and on about Sera, for she is my light…but it is the problems caused by having a dragon for a child that I meant to speak of.
You must understand, that many are the elves in Leuthilspar who barely think me fit company…these same people also number among those who think that such an "unusual" elf as myself should not be allowed to have the care of anything so precious as silver dragon child. These people also number among those who have tried to convince me to give Sera up…that I am too young, and too incapable of caring for her. I feel I deserve a bit of credit however, for I did not attack, or kill them outright. I let them make their speeches about responsibility and so on…then I would calmly ask Sera if she wanted to go away from me, and live with others. Every time, her answer has been "no," and that is when I turn back to them, and state that Sera did not wish to go with them. I let them know in no uncertain terms what would happen should they try to force me to give her up, or take her away from me…and each time, I believe that I was forceful enough that they would learn that "no" truly meant "no." And yet they persist. And as my anger grows, my restlessness grows, I feel more and more inclined to violence, though I use restraint. After all, how would you feel if strangers continued to approach you, with the sole purpose of removing your child from you because they felt you were not worthy of her?
So, I have explained much of what is wrong with me, and with Evermeet, in reference to myself. Please, do not misunderstand, though. I love Evermeet, and the people here. And there have been many among the people who have made my stay tolerable...even enjoyable.
There is Sylthas, my cousin, whom has proven himself to be a far better person than I ever expected of him as child. He goes out of his way to try to involve me in things he considers fun. He tries to defuse arguments between not only myself and my father, but myself and his father as well. You see, like my parents, my uncle Arient believes that my behavior is unacceptable, and unbefitting of my station. I am, or so I have been informed, worse than the prince Lamruil ever was. Uncle Arient seems to be nervous that I might drag Sylthas down with me, into the depths of debauchery and trouble making. Little does dear uncle Arient know, that Sylthas is nearly as bad as I am, only he conceals it much better, under a face of guileless innocence that his parents, amazingly enough, fall for every time. It is all I can do to keep from laughing, as he tells them that he is retiring early, so that he might study, and better contemplate how he can best fulfill his role in the family…when in reality, it is so he can sneak out and go to one of the many parties held by the younger and more dissolute nobles among us.
Mother and Father, for all my complaints about father, have been very understanding as well. The only problem is that they tend to use my youth and "ordeal" as an excuse for my actions…both seem incapable of believing that I am doing this out frustration. Father has drawn me aside on a number of occasion to say that he, too, had been a bit wild in his youth…not that he is overly old, mind you, and he knows that there are some things that I have to do…he just wishes I would be a little more quiet about doing them.
Mother, on the other hand, seems to think I am doing this for attention, that I am jealous of the time she spends with my younger siblings. Perhaps in a way I am, but that is not the only reason. So she spends a great deal of time with me, trying to make up for "failing" me…her words not mine. She has taken to sparring with me, with swords…she is usually the winner of such matches, but I think she would not win so much, if I weren't so afraid of hurting her. After all, her leg is still not completely healed…nor will it ever be, and so I must be careful with my strength. She tries, though, and I love her dearly for it.
Then there is Tobias who has proven himself to be a friend, after all, although he has often lost potential friends for doing so. He has wandered about Evermeet and all her splendors during the past years, dragging me along whenever I could find the time. It was amusing to see him staring wide-eyed at things and places that were commonplace to me. He would often come up with some story that he was reminded of when he visited the sights, usually an amusing tale about another city he had visited as a child, growing up in a traveling circus. The stories he meant to make me laugh, however, more often than not, had the reverse effect. He made me think about all that he had seen in his life, even though he is but a few decades older than me. I have seen so little of what is truly a huge world. Just thinking of my future makes me feel restless. As the heir to house Nightstar, you see, it is my duty to wed, to attend court, and to serve in the queen's guard. Few heirs are ever allowed to leave Evermeet, the privilege of travel and adventure left to younger siblings. Even the princess Ilryana left Evermeet only once, to my knowledge, and that was for her own protection.
As much as I love Evermeet, however, spending all of my centuries here…it is unthinkable.
Finally, there is the queen, herself. You see, even considering everything else, I also have to attend court on a regular basis. And there are times that the Queen calls her nobles to the palace to visit with her. I think she does so to get a sense of what things are like outside the palace. I gather that since King Zaor died, the Queen rarely leaves her home, and so she must call us to her.
I do not mind, however, for there is nothing I would not do for the Queen. If she, for instance, asked me to never set foot off Evermeet again, I would do it, though it would be hard. Fortunately, she has not yet given such a command, and I pray to Corellon that she never will.
I have spoken with the Queen numerous times after the first. Much of the time it is I who does the bulk of the talking, while she but listens, occasionally asking a question now and then. I sense that she is trying to get a feel for the person I am , and am becoming. I cannot doubt that she has heard rumors of my behavior, for it is common talk among my fellow nobles, who also have her ear…yet she has not spoken of any displeasure to me. She often asks, however, if I am happy, and barring that whether I am content to be home after so long. I answer her truthfully, that the answer to both is "no." I have spoken to her of my restlessness…and my anger. In fact she is the only one I have openly spoken to about my feelings, though I do not doubt that others know…especially Tobias who is well familiar with my moods. I keep hoping that the Queen will have some words of insight for me, but always her reply is the same…that, in time, all things will work out for the best.
She has often asked about Elaith, and my association with him. I sense a further sadness in her when she speaks of him, for Elaith was once her ward, raised my the Queen from infancy after the Craulnober clan was all but destroyed by a drow attack. She hides her feelings of Elaith, however, and I cannot guess why she asks about him, save that perhaps she wishes to know he is well. After all, only one of her thirteen children survives to this day: prince Lamruil…and wherever he is, it is not Evermeet. I have heard rumors that he was sent on an errand for the Queen, of the utmost importance to the people…but beyond that, I know little.
I think, though, that the time is fast approaching when I must make a choice…to stay, or go. Part of me wants to stay, for there can be no place in all Faerun like Evermeet…and yet, I also know that I am not content here, as I should be. Perhaps it is the lingering humanness in me. I think I shall have to speak with my parents…soon.
Tonight, the dance of blades gave me no comfort, so once more I have picked up quill and ink. Did I ye mention that I have kept up with my sword dancing, and have become better at it than ever I was? I have gained the skill to dance with fifteen blades…and not small daggers, either. I have read that only true blade dancers, and blade singers can do better than fifteen…and even then, they are few. The thing is, I care so little for myself at the moment, that I do not fear the edges of the blades any longer. Perhaps soon I shall try sixteen blades…mayhap even seventeen. It matters not, anyhow. I do not dance for approval, but for the sense of life it gives me. Sometimes I feel closer to Arvandyr than Evermeet, as of late. And yet, every time I feel my soul start to move on, I am drawn back…by what, I do not know. Maybe I am not truly ready to leave this world…but oh, staying is such a trial!
Even Sera is not enough, on some days to make staying seem important enough. This may seem harsh, but it is how I feel. After all…how good can I possibly be for her? I cannot even put my own life in order…so how am I to raise her to live hers well? I almost begin to think that it might be better if I gave her up…to someone who knows more about dragons than I. The idea churns my stomach, but if I am to be good father, I must do what is best for my child, right? And the truth is, how can I possibly think that I am what is best for her?
Perhaps you wonder at the renewal of my melancholy…the deepening of it? So I shall explain.
Not long after the last time I wrote, I stirred my courage, and spoke to my parents, finally. I told them that I wished to leave Evermeet…to return to the mainland…perhaps to adventure…at least to see more of the world. I spoke of my restlessness, and explained that I was not happy. I thought they would at least listen…consider my wishes.
How very wrong I was.
Their eyes took on a panicked look, almost the same as they had the first day I was back on Evermeet. My mother seemed about to cry…strong warrior woman that she is. And my father immediately shook his head.
"Absolutely not!" he stated, resolutely. "You have only just come back…you are still settling in. The last thing you need is to go back to the mainland." He said, with surety.
"What have we not done for you, Keledrial? What must we do to make you happy?" my mother asked, her voice breaking slightly. I felt terrible, for a son should never make his mother cry.
"It isn't you," I tried to say. "It 's me. I just don't fit in here anymore. There is nothing you can do to make this better."
"You just need more time to adjust," my mother replied, the first tear slipping.
"I am not adjusting…maybe I never will…mother, please understand, that even as a child, before I ever left here, I did not truly fit in. It is the way I am, and there is nothing I can do to change that."
"You need to try a little harder then, Keledrial, because you are not leaving," my father crossed his arms, blue eyes flashing with the onset of temper. Father, I have noticed, does not like it when things do not go the way he has planned. As always, my temper flared in response to his.
"You can't keep me here, you know. I am 103 years old, for Corellon's sake!" I protested.
"And you are still a child! My child, I might add!" He snapped back. " And as your father, you will obey me!"
"Valorian…Keledrial, please…don't argue. Please, baby, give it more time…" my mother pleaded.
"Gods!" I swore. "Doesn't it matter to you that I'm not happy?! I am so tired of being told that I'm a child, that I don't know anything about anything, and that I have… obligations! Why is it that only nobles seem to have obligations? Anyone else can do as they like, marry whom they want, and go where they want without worrying who they might offend by the action, and what political ramifications there might be! And why must I suffer for it? The Eroth family doesn't even acknowledge that Amlaruil is our queen, for Corellon's sake! And the Amaquissars are the worst sort of rogues…why do I have to be a bloody paragon! Other nobles adventure…look at grandfather Cefwyn! Why is so bad that I want to do the same?!"
"Your grandfather lost his life adventuring," my father sneered. "And if the Amaquissars and the Eroths wish to make fools of themselves, that is their choice. You are a Nightstar! Your behavior has been atrocious these past years. You consistently refuse any aid or learning you are offered…always because you know better! When you stop acting like a child, then I will stop treating you as one…but until that day...a day which your mother and I will decide on, not you…you will remain here, in our home, and fulfill your obligations to the people, and your family, and there will be no more bloody talk about returning the mainland! You've had your adventures!" He was shouting by the time he finished.
"When you send me to Arvandyr at young age, I hope that will satisfy you, father…then Sylthas…or your precious Kedriel can take my bloody place for good!" I screamed back, and then turned to slam out of the room.
The problem was that I cannot just leave Evermeet. The island is too small, in the scheme of things for one, and the Nightstars and Hawksongs have far to much power to make my leaving easy. It is not that I didn't try, mind you…I swore I was going to leave that very day…but unfortunately, I could not find a single ship or captain willing to risk my mother's disfavor, or my father's mother, for that matter. Short of using one of the gates, of which I have absolutely no access to, there is no other way to leave.
I was in a terrible rage after the argument…and so full of despair, it was almost like physical pain. Even though the island is large, and the forests and fields, vast…I felt trapped…penned it. It was like the first winter in Waterdeep, stuck in the tiny room behind the forge. I didn't know what to do, only that I could not get away. I felt I had to do something, but did not know what…so I went down to the Green Sword tavern and began to drink…
I think that at some point the tavern-keeper, Halanaestra, a woman of mixed Sylvan and Moon elven heritage tried to cut me off, but a menacing growl, and a beljuril gem…booty from one of my adventures…sent her away, leaving me to continue my binge. I drank Elverquisst like water, not bother with ceremony. It was the strongest stuff I could get. When I finally drank myself into a stupor, an odd thing happened.
Now, I cannot say for certain if I was having a vision, or had merely drunk so much that I was hallucinating…but I heard a voice. It was distinctly masculine in tone, and definitely not someone who was in the room with me. The words were simple, and I remembered them easily enough.
"Repair the Fury of Battle." And I saw and image after that…I watched as it was forged by a human barbarian…not fair like the Ruathym, but dark as the Uthgardt. I saw the process that was necessary to repair, not only the blade, but the enchantments within it…and the vision faded, leaving me sober, and with all the knowledge I would need.
I left the tavern after that, seeking out what I would need. Understand, that I had spoken before of reforging the blade…when I first returned…but was instantly forbidden to do so. There is, after all, no set process for repairing artifacts, I was told…and furthermore such a process was always dangerous.
Yet as I went searching for what I would need, there was no doubt in mind…I knew how to repair it…and there was no way I was going to ignore what very well may have been a divine vision, forbidden or not.
I found a forge easily enough. There are many outbuildings on the Nightstar property…and one of them contains an old smithy…apparently one of my ancestors was just as inclined to "peasant-work" as I am. It only took a few hours to set the place to order, and learn exactly what I would need. Fortunately, the process required called for magical fire and heat…both were things I could provide, and so I did not need to try to find fuel. A few of the other necessary items were a little more unusual…the captured breath of a red dragon, a pinch of dust made from the bones of a legendary warrior, a net of woven mithral, the blood of a berserker, and a vial of holy warrior blessed by a priest who is also a warrior for a god of battle.
Needless to say, this being Evermeet, all of those items could be found somewhere on the island. Some were a little harder to get hold of, mind you. For instance, I will not describe just how I managed to get into the Hall of the Ancients to get a pinch of bone dust from Kethryllia Amarallis's' sarcophagus…but let us just say it was hard.
The only thing I might have had trouble with would have been the blood…that is of course, were I not what I am…a berserker.
Once I had everything I needed, I removed the three pieces of the Fury of Battle from the case I kept in, since Lita gave me the last piece, some seventeen years ago. The magic in tingled in my hands…dormant, but still there. All I had to do was repair, and awaken the blade once more.
I set up my spells carefully, using concealment spells to keep anyone from discerning my whereabouts while I worked. It did not occur to me not to do as I had been bidden. Even the thought that doing so might kill me did not deter me any. It was something to do…once more that thrill of danger that I seemed to need. I was willing to risk death to see this done…and that was what I did.
The actual process was a blur…and time seemed to stop while I worked. I know that days passed…that I stopped only to eat, and relieve myself…I could not rest…not until I saw the job done. After five days, my finger ached, and my shoulder and arms were screaming for me to stop…I'd never worked so long or so hard…and yet I knew I was not done. Determination drove me on…that and something else…every time I thought to stop, I felt a gentle urging…whenever I thought I might falter, I would see the vision again, and know what to do. I ignored all the questions directed at me, the few times I walked back to the house.
Another five days passed, and still I was not done…the blade itself was restored, but I had to awaken the magic, as well. I know that arcane words entered my mind, and left as soon as I spoke them. I used the holy water to awaken the divine power within in…fire to awaken the flame and arcane ability…the bone dust to draw forth it's courage and strength, and finally coated it with my own blood to seal the power. The mithral net I'd used during the forging process to repair it…make it even stronger than before.
Thirteen days after I'd had the vision, I was done. The Battle of Fury had been repaired, and the full force of the magic within in was so strong that I did not even have to touch the weapon to sense it. The steel blade was smooth…as though it had never been broken…mithral gleaming, and intersped through the length. The pommel gem glistened blood0red, seeming almost alive with light from within. Though the base workmanship was human, the sword was different now, than it had been. There were traces of my own style in it: an unusual melding of human, dwarven and elven technique and styles. Unique…as I am unique.
I had repaired an artifact.
Yet a toll was taken, for I was beyond weary. It was even worse than when Sera had first been hatched…and I went without food or rest for weeks. I had only a moment to admire my work, the finished product, before I collapsed into oblivion.