This chapter's a bit short, but I decided to post it anyhow, seeing as I know I hate waiting for the next part of a story. It's about to get a bit confusing, though, as the point of view in the story will change for the first time from Keledrial's to others'. This chapter includes the first part of Rosealliele's addition to Keledrial's journal. Read on to find out why. Once again, and as always thank you to my reviewers: Arabwel, crazefanficboi, lord kaizar, silverwolf7, raelli1, catspaw 0913,and my random fan. More reviews, please! Thanks! Azrurielle
What followed after that is not clear in my mind, no matter how often I have tried to recall it. I have vague images and thoughts…a feeling of helplessness and anger…but little else. It is only through the stories of the others and what they have told me that I know what happened on Ruathym. And so I had them write down their memories and have added those pages here, alongside my own.
Keledrial
How shall I begin? My husband has asked that I write of my memories of what occurred while we were on Ruathym, thus I suppose I must begin with the moment that his memories end.
We had been sailing for some time and the seas seemed endless to me. I was much reminded of the trip I took from Evermeet on my way to Everall. That journey took far more time, especially with my fear of the ocean. After all, it was the ocean that took my love from me, and I have disliked it since the day that I heard his ship went down. Still, at least that time my destination was one I was looking forward to. This trip certainly was not of the same variety, and perhaps that is why I felt the days seemed so much longer.
When I awoke from reverie that morning, I felt sick, but that is not a new thing. This whole affair, from the time Sera was taken away, to now has left my stomach churning in fear and sorrow. Keledrial had not rested, I think…but he rarely did at that point. His face was grim, even beneath the smile he tried to show me, and there were dark marks beneath his green eyes that showed his weariness. He knew we were close to Ruathym and I think that he, too, was afraid of what we might find there.
When the cliffs of Ruathym rose before us I was struck at what a barren rock of a place it seemed, even though we were still a distance from it. From a distance Evermeet is all green and bright…not so Ruathym. What little green I could see came from stunted trees and shrubs clinging tenaciously to the sides of the cliffs. The rocks were gray and black and made even the water seem colorless by their reflection on the waves.
The wind began to die down as we got within a mile or so of whore. Keledrial muttered about Rylonar, his village, being only a few more miles up the coast from where we were. His gaze at that point, became fixed on the shore. I wondered what it was he was thinking. Was the sight of Ruathym bringing back all of the dreadful memories he had taken away from the island with him…or all of the fond ones?
I knew that what we were doing would not be easy. We weren't even certain of what it was we were looking for. I knew that the people might not welcome us. Most of all, though, I knew that I and everyone aboard the ship would do everything we could to help Keledrial find respite from the terrible curse that was haunting him.
Then, Keledrial glanced back at us, his eyes strangely glazed. His cloak slid from his shoulders to the deck and without any more warning than that, he dove overboard. For a moment, everyone stood still, shocked. Why had he done it, we wondered in the long moment it took before his head broke the surface of the waves several yards away.
When he surfaced, he began swimming towards the shore, which was still nearly a mile away, never once looking back.
"Keledrial!" I screamed for him, but if he heard me, he paid no heed. The others tried as well, all calling for him, trying to draw his attention…to no avail. My husband merely continued swimming through the frigid water with the rocky shore as his destination.
We turned the ship, meaning to go after him, but the wind had died down, quite suddenly, and by the time we got the oars in place and moving, Keledrial was already on shore and climbing up the side of the cliffs. When it became apparent that we were not going to be able to catch up to him, the others turned to regard me, as though I had the answers they didn't.
"Do you know what's going on, Rosealliele?" the headmistress, Liralyn asked me. I shook my head, bending down to pick up Keledrial''s cloak.
"Your guess is as good as mine," I managed to say, my voice hardly above a whisper for I, too, was shocked. He had promised that he would not leave me behind…had me promised that he would only make me go if there was danger.
"He's probably still trying to do this alone…to keep the rest of us safe," Tobias stated. Lita shook her head at this. The human woman's face was expressionless.
"I don't think so. He knew he couldn't do this alone, or he never would have asked for help to begin with. Everyone here should know him well enough to know that," she told us. It was true, I knew. He would've just gone without explanation to anyone if he could have.
"The dream then," Celedor spoke up. "It is possible, with us being so close to the potential origin of it, that whatever magic is at work has taken over his waking thoughts as well." There was silence at that. I guess no one had wanted to consider such a possibility could occur, but we were now faced with the reality of it.
"So what do we do now?" Kalanas wanted to know.
"That's easy," Kelly piped up. All turned to look at her to hear her idea. I find it terribly strange, looking at her and seeing my husband's features so plainly evident in the girl's face and body. It is not that I was truly angry with Keledrial about Kelly, only that I was, and still am, surprised at her existence. That and despite the fact that her creation occurred long before Keledrial even knew about me, it is still painful to accept that he had been with a woman with whom he'd created a child…a woman other than I…especially a woman whose name is so similar to my own.
"He said that his old village was just a few more miles away, right? So we go there. He's got to be headed there anyhow, and we'll make faster time traveling by water than by land," my husband's half-elf child continued. It made sense. We all had t agree on that, no matter how much I wished to go ashore that instant and chase after Keledrial. So it was agreed, and we began rowing, pulling hard that we might reach Rylonar before Keledrial did.
Fortunately the wind picked back up a few minutes later, for the truth is that I have never excelled at any sort of physical activity…my husband's declarations that bed sport counts, notwithstanding, and my hands ached fiercely from the attempt at rowing. The wind was chill, despite the warmth of the summer…or perhaps it was just my perceptions and the forbidding sight of Ruathym, which made it seem so. In either case, I drew Keledrial's cloak about my shoulders, glad of the warmth and soothed by the scent of him ingrained in the dark green wool.
As I watched Ruathym speed by us, my eyes scanning the shore and cliff tops for any sign of Rylonar, I idly reached into the pockets of the cloak. I knew it to be a magical cloak, specially enchanted for travelers, and as such it had useful items like bread that did not go stale and a flask of water that was always pure and full in the pockets. I also knew that Keledrial had had his cloak magically enchanted during his time as an adventurer to have a special pocket for Sanhandrian in it. It was into that pocket I reached, thinking to bring out Sanhandrian. After all, once we got to Rylonar, the little squirrel could possibly aid us in finding Keledrial, for the two have the same mental link that all wizard's and their familiars share.
Strangely enough, though, when I reached in I felt not one, but two small, furry forms in the pocket. Perplexed, I managed to grab both and draw them forth, despite a massive amount of struggling and squeaking. Sanhandrian ended up in my right hand, squirming mightily, and chittering away at me in an angry fashion. In my left hand was another squirrel nearly identical to Sanhandrian but for one major difference. Where Sanhandrian had solid black eyes and was truly a squirrel, the other creature had silver irises and that only let me know that it was not a normal squirrel. The other "squirrel" glanced about, and upon seeing land that most assuredly not the Sword Coast, "it" asked,
"So…are we at Ruathym yet?" Though the voice was smaller and somewhat squeaky sounding, I knew immediately who it was. I sat down quickly, feeling suddenly faint over the ramifications of what I had discovered.
"Oh Sera!" I exclaimed in dismay. The "squirrel" nodded.
"Yup! It's me. Isn't it neat? I figured out how to polymorph into non-humanoid forms as well!" she told me, sounding excited.
"So is that Ruathym?" she asked again, straining to look. "And where's Daddy?"
"Oh, Sera…you didn't," I moaned. At my tone Sera at least had the good sense to look guilty.
"I'm sorry," she stated. "But I really wanted to come. So I told Rina's parents that I couldn't go with them after all, and hid in Sanhandrian's pocket…and I gave him lots of nuts so that he wouldn't tell Daddy I was here until it was too late for him to send me home," she explained.
"I'm so disappointed in you, Kaithseraly," I told her, trying not to cry. Keledrial had not wanted any of his family involved in this venture, and now not only I, but both of his children had managed to come along into whatever danger he feared we might find here. Sera ducked her head and sniffled, doing her best to sound pathetic that she might get out of trouble.
"I really am sorry. I just wanted to come with you so that I could help." I shook my head.
"Sera, your father wanted you to stay out of this for a reason, and as soon as I can, I'm going to teleport you home," I informed her.
"Don't send me home! Please? I want to help. Please, Mommy?" she asked. I was touched at how easily she had accepted me as her mother…touched and a little frightened. Even though Keledrial and I have been married for quite a few months now, I still am not exactly certain how to handle my new authority over Sera. She often turns to me for permission to do something and I often give it, unknowing of the fact that Keledrial has already told her no. And she was doing the very same thing in this situation. I knew that I couldn't let her stay, though, no matter how prettily she asked. Keledrial would be furious for one, and it just seemed a bad idea anyhow.
"I'm sorry Sera, but that is the way it has to be. You know very well that what you did was wrong. As soon as I can you are going back to school," I stated quite firmly. Sera pouted. Even in squirrel form I recognized the expression. She was so used to getting her way, though, that she gets quite upset when she doesn't. She is a good girl for all that…just a bit spoiled, and from what I understand it is not entirely Keledrial's fault that she is thus. Still, I have to admit I can understand why…she asks so prettily that its hard to refuse her.
"Um…why are ye talkin' to a squirrel?" I suddenly heard Ranon ask. The odd little dwarf had been fairly quiet…but then again so had everyone else.
"The squirrel is Sera," I explained. Tobias and several of the others groaned.
"Um…ain't Sera a little elf girl?" Ranon pondered. For a moment I was confused. Didn't he know that Sera was a dragon? Apparently not, I was soon to learn, as Tobias thankfully explained. While that was going on, amidst many dismayed sighs, and Ranon's perplexed glances, Sera resumed her elven form. She sat down next to me, her arms crossed angrily.
"Where's Daddy?" she asked again, pouting still. "He'll let me stay."
"He's…already on shore," I told her, not certain of what to say. That, at least, was the truth.
"By himself?" she queried. I nodded.
"Why is he by himself? He always get hurt when he does that," she sounded a bit worried. No one had an answer for her.
"Well, no time to worry about returning Sera now," Tobias suddenly said a few moments later, pointing. I followed the line of his finger with my eyes and saw smoke rising up on one of the cliffs, saw the lines of buildings when we got a bit closer.
"That must be Rylonar," the bard stated.
We sailed as close as we could get to shore, managing to anchor within a few yards of the beach. With the boat anchored in one of the sheltered fjords of the place, the wind died down, the water still and calm. Fortunately, between all of us we had the proper spells prepared to get ashore without getting too wet, for the water seemed quite frigid despite the summer heat.
The beach was not sandy like Evermeet, but rocky with smooth pieces of gray slate. From where we stood, I could see a narrow path winding its way up the cliffs. Thus, without much of a plan or idea of what we would do when we reached Rylonar, we gathered together what we needed, weapons spells and the like and began to climb.
Though it was probably only a few minutes the climb seemed to take much longer than that. Each step had to be carefully placed and supplemented with a solid handhold to prevent falling. Many times on the way up someone…myself included would slip on loose stone. Thankfully no one actually fell…but all the same I had my feather fall spell ready just in case of an emergency.
The top of the cliff was very nearly as rocky as the bottom, but here, at least, small plants and shrubs were growing in the stony soil. The land rose higher yet from the point where we stood and there was no sign yet of the village, although we could still see the smoke trails drifting up, clearly visible against the blue sky.
We moved slowly, deliberately, alert to any threats. After all, we had no guide…no one with us who knew the customs of the Ruathen, and no way of knowing what we would find when we reached Rylonar.
We had to be getting near to Rylonar, of that I had no doubt. Yet just as we were about to climb up the hill, over which the village lay, we found ourselves surrounded. They seemed to come out of nowhere, but in truth they had, more likely, been hiding among the boulders and the thin mist that clung to the ground here, not yet burned off by the sun. They had blond hair; for the most part…many of them had that blond turning to gray and white. They were are old…or at least they were old as humans reckon time. Yet for their age, their swords and axes were sharp enough, and aimed at us…their height and breadth, much like Bran's and my Keledrial's, were impressive. And they did not look friendly.
Among my allies I saw tenseness, the subtle movement of hands towards weapons and spell components. We did not wish to attack, for there was no telling if these people were from Keledrial's old village…but we meant to defend ourselves. I pushed Sera behind me, hoping that she would remain unobtrusive. I could never forgive myself if something happened to her.
Then, one of the men, for they were all males, stepped forward. His hair was long and mostly gray but for a few strands of black threaded throughout. He was old, but not so old as some of the graybeard humans I have seen…more towards the end of the middle of his life, thus he still stood tall and straight and there was still obvious strength in his arms for they did not waver at holding up his axe. I looked up to him, as did everyone else, for he was taller than all of us, but for Bran. His eyes were a bright, clear green with a hint of almond shape to them. His appearance was familiar to me and my mind nagged at me, telling me that I should know him.
He approached Tobias first, his eyes settling on the bard's green hair. The warrior pushed back Tobias' hair to reveal a pointed ear.
"Alfar," the man breathed, nodding. His fellows did not relax, but he seemed to…fractionally.
"We…we mean no harm," Tobias managed to say in their tongue. It is the Illuskan language of the humans, and fortunately most of us speak it.
"We're merely here seeking a friend," the bard added. The rest of nodded, all save Bran who was looking belligerent… challenging. I prayed that he would contain his temper, which for all his pleasantness in conversation, I have heard is no better than my husband's when roused.
The warrior nodded.
"You seek Airk…Keledrial," he amended.
"Yes!" I exclaimed, before thinking about it. I had not meant to draw attention to myself, or Sera.
"Do you know where he is?" The man shook his head, seeming sad.
"Keledrial left this place a long time ago…to find his people. I have not seen him since." Then his eyes caught sight of Sera, peeking out from behind me. He beckoned her forward. I held out an arm to stop her.
"No. Please. She's just a child." I was afraid for her, even though my memory still nagged at me, telling me there was not a reason to fear this man. He beckoned again, looking a bit imperious, as though well used to having his orders obeyed. Sera took a few steps forward, suddenly shy. Perhaps she realized now that she might be in danger. The warrior knelt down to her level trusting, I suppose, in his fellows to guard his back. His eyes studied Sera for a long moment, and he touched her face tilting her head this way and that. Sera, thankfully, did not resist as is her nature. He stood.
"This is Keledrial's child. Her features and colors are his. Why do you seek him here when you have obviously found him elsewhere?" He demanded.
"He had returned to Ruathym, seeking something," I told the man truthfully. "But when we neared the shore, he dove overboard and went in alone. Now we're looking for him."
"Seeking something? Does he dream of blood?" the man asked, his wind roughened skin blanching slightly. I nodded. The man and the others exchanged a glance that boded ill.
"He has fallen to the magic, then," the man sighed.
"Who are you?" I finally asked, feeling no threat from him, despite the weapons. The man looked at me in the most curious manner for a moment, then nodded.
"I am called Eirik Ivarsson, former First Axe of the southern villages." Eirik…now I knew him. He had been Keledrial's dearest friend on Ruathym, the only one who had allowed him to be elven and treated him as an equal.
"I know you," I stated. "You were his friend." He nodded.
"And I still am. And you are his woman for he would only have chosen one as strong as he is." I blushed at this for certainly I have never considered myself strong…certainly not as strong as Keledrial. The human, Eirik's green eyes bored into me, as though he was reading my thoughts.
"Strength comes in many forms, alfar woman. But now, you will all come with me. If Keledrial has fallen to the magic there is nothing we can do, but perhaps you, who know far more of magics than we Ruathen do, can help explain what is happening here."
"But we must go to Rylonar to find Keledrial," I protested. Eirik shook his head.
"Nay. You will not go there. Never would I allow Keledrial's woman to go there…not now." Just as I was beginning to get angry at his high handedness and demand that he take us to Rylonar or make way, Eirik spoke again.
"Rylonar is not safe. A terrible spell works on the people there and draws more in with each day that passes. The magic must be great indeed if it has reached so far as the mainland and ensnared Keledrial. I will explain, but we must be away from here before we are discovered." There was a sense of urgency to his voice that was palpable. Keledrial had once told me that the Ruathen did not show fear, but it was there all the same…that one can see it in their eyes. I looked into Eirik's eyes…dark green…elven eyes I realized with a degree of surprise. There was fear there. And so as much as I wanted to go to Rylonar that very instant to find my husband, I did not. I nodded, agreeing with Eirik's words. This brought dismay to the rest of my group.
"Rosealliele," Celedor was quick to speak. "Are you certain we can trust him?" the priest wanted to know. I could understand his doubts.
"Yes. He is Keledrial's friend. I think he would not betray us."
"I vow, by Tempus, that I would never harm Keledrial's kin," Eirik added. Bran narrowed his eyes, then nodded.
"I trust him as well," the human teacher stated. Strange how very much alike he was to these people, with his blond hair and large size. But then, perhaps not so strange, for it is believed that the Ruathen people are descended from the northern tribes of humans from whence Bran hails.
We followed Eirik away from Rylonar, heading inland, and further north. We stopped some hours later when we reached an encampment concealed inside some old stone ruins of indeterminate origin. Inside there were many more people… mostly the very old or the very young with few ages between to be found. When arrived they greeted Eirik as one greeted a revered leader, and so I knew him to be as such. I sensed that the others still felt unease at the situation, but I had to hope that Eirik would soon explain things.
We were offered what hospitality the camp had to offer…drink, food and a place to rest. The people stared at us with open curiosity…more than one of them stepping forward to touch our clothing, our hair…as though trying to ascertain whether or not we were real. It was very awkward and very strange…I can hardly imagine any people who are not familiar with the elves, but there I was forcibly reminded that there are many people in the world who have never seen one of us…places in which we were legend and not reality.
While the children seemed amused and awed by us, some of the older adults were not. I heard mutterings of "bad omens" and the displeasure of the gods. They actually seemed to fear our presence meant some sort of misfortune was upon us and their hands wove out wardings against evil in our direction.
After a short time Eirik joined us again. From us he demanded to know what had occurred to bring us here. I told him, sparing no detail, telling him of the dreams and the compulsions Keledrial had felt to come here.
"It is the same with all who drink the water of Rylonar," Eirik told us hen I had finished speaking.
"The water?" Tobias repeated. Eirik nodded. The human took in a deep breath, filling his lungs, then breathed out slowly.
"I will tell you of what has happened here and perhaps you will be able to answer me the questions of how. How has this happened and how do we stop it? It started a number of months ago…of the number I cannot be certain for I do not live in Rylonar…but at least six. I was told that travelers arrived in Rylonar, that the fisher folk had helped these travelers when they were discovered, their boat foundering, at sea. They were human…but from the mainland. At first they seemed friendly, if a bit odd. They asked many questions…mostly about Rylonar's well…when it was dug, who did the digging…and if anything unusual had ever happened to people drinking from it. Now the people of Rylonar did not think anything amiss and they answered those questions. The well is over five score years old, dug by the people who settled here. And as for unusual, it is well known that the children of Rylonar are always born hale and they grow taller and stronger than any other Ruathen in the area. The women never die in childbed and the men's wounds heal quickly and cleanly.
And then a strange thing happened. Very near to overnight, the villagers began to change. They stopped fishing, stopped working and began to dig around the well…all of them with a single-minded determination. When asked why they were doing so, they would respond that the travelers had asked it and they could not refuse. When my son, Ian, the First-Axe of the area," here Eirik's voice swelled with pride…but that pride was laced with a tinge of worry…of confusion. He continued on.
"…when he heard of what was happening in Rylonar he rode out to see what the trouble was, for digging up a perfectly good well is a strange thing. He took with him his best men. He was gone some days before he returned. When he did, he called up all of his men and ordered them to Rylonar to aid with the digging. When I asked him why, he told me that it was as the travelers wished. I asked him why it was he was listening to these travelers…what was so important. He told me to do as I was ordered in a tone that my son has never before used. And when I looked into his eyes I saw that they were empty. It was as though he were not truly there." Eirik sounded frustrated, and I could see that frustration mirrored on the faces of those around us.
"That was some months ago. Since then more and more people from the southern villages have been summoned to Rylonar, never leaving once the near the village. All young people in their prime…warriors and women alike. Never are the children brought…and never the elders." That explained why there were so many of both at the encampment.
"We cannot be certain what goes on at Rylonar anymore, for guards patrol the borders of the village and we are not allowed near the village itself. The travelers do not wish it," he sneered. "And so the people gathered seem to follow the words of these people more closely that they follow Tempus! But to me it seems that these travelers are drawing in an army and they must be using some magic to do so, for what else would cause good people to leave their villages and their trades and their children behind? We think it must have to do with the well…perhaps the water but we cannot say for certain. Those of us who have gotten closer have seen a huge hole where the well once was…a tunnel of sorts leading below the earth. No more do the people dig, but always there are guards at this tunnel. We think that there is where these travelers rest." Eirik finished.
"And now tell me, alfar. Keledrial once told me that your people were skilled with weaving magic. What manner of magic is this that it controls the actions of so many? No shaman I have spoken to can claim to understand it."
I exchanged a glance with the others. There was confusion in the expressions.
"A mass charm spell might do this," Kalanas theorized. "But it would not require the medium of water to cast through…nor would it explain the extraordinary health of the villagers, predating the appearance of these "travelers."
"And they would have to be a powerful caster indeed to be able to control the wills of so many," Celedor added.
"I know songs that have the same effect…in fact I have the ability to cast such," Liralyn spoke. "But the song has to be maintained less the spell fail."
"It has a sense of evil to it," Ranon muttered. I, myself, could think of nothing to explain this, though I have long studied magic. Keledrial would know the answer, I thought. All those histories of magic filling his mind taunted me, but when we had shared our thoughts I had always focused my attention on his experiences…not his knowledges. I looked about the group, but found no help. Kelly and Bran were warriors, and Sera still a child. They would be no help.
"If we had some of the water to examine," I sighed.
"But we do," Eirik heard my words and responded. I looked to him.
"Might we see it?" I asked. He nodded and ordered one of the warriors to fetch it. A few moments later the man returned, bearing with him a flask, holding before him as though it were a venomous snake that might bite him at any moment. I took the flask and dug out a small silver bowl from among my spell casting components, pouring a small amount of the water in.
It appeared normal water, being clear and possessed on no smell. The others gathered around to look, each of casting spells to detect magic upon it. What we saw through the magic of the spell was stunning.
Normally a detect magic spell causes the item in question to emit a faint radiance, the color of this light tinged. The tinge of the light allows a properly trained caster to determine what school the magic at work is from…evocation, abjuration, divination and so on. When I looked at the water I could see that the magic in was very strong, but more than that the light was strange…possessed of all the colors of the schools one moment, then bearing no particular school the next. But underlying the colors of the water was a shadow…a taint to magic…the shadow was as blood to me.
"And you got this from the well of Rylonar?" I breathed, amazed at what I was seeing. Eirik nodded.
"That well has always been the purest and we kept stores of it at my home. When we realized what was happening we stopped drinking the water and I believe that is what saved us."
"What do you mean, saved you?" Liralyn asked.
"We think that how strongly the water affects depends on the amount that has been drunk," Eirik explained. "Those from villages closer to Rylonar seemed to fall under the strange power more easily…always dreaming of blood until they no longer cared for anything but to obey the travelers. And of the people of Rylonar, not a one has escaped the pull of the magic…not even Keledrial it seems, for they drank from that well every day."
"Then this water is from before the travelers arrived?" Kalanas wanted to know.
"Aye, it is," Eirik replied, giving Kalanas a curious look. I winced, knowing what Eirik must be thinking, and glad that none of the Ruathen had attacked Kalanas for being drow. Kalanas stared back at the human, never flinching. I thought it might end at that, but Eirik spoke again…bluntly.
"I have never seen a dok alfar," he commented. "But I have heard of them. One of your race greatly aided the Ruathen when many conspired against us." When Kalanas did not say anything, Eirik continued.
"It happened many years ago, when Airk…Keledrial was still here. He hated her. Hated the very idea of her being here. He was so angry when no one would believe him of her evil that he ran from Rylonar and stayed away for many weeks. It was one of the few times we ever truly argued."
"And you wonder why he would now travel with something he hated?" Kalanas asked softly. It is that voice, when he uses it, that frightens me. Most of the time he is pleasant and agreeable…but when he speaks so, his tone soft but full of anger, I fear him…or perhaps I fear for him. I cannot be certain. Though I know him to be good, it is sometimes hard to remember that when time and tradition has so instilled it in me that dark elves are evil.
Eirik nodded. Kalanas shrugged, the softness gone and once more nonchalant.
"I owe him a debt of life." Here Eirik nodded once more, a knowing sort of nod. A debt of that sort is something I think that the Ruathen could understand, for despite their harsh ways and warlike lifestyle, Keledrial was always quick to add that among themselves they have a very strict code of honor.
Suddenly, Tobias spoke.
"The water is from before the travelers, but it has some…taint to it. Like a shadow." All of us who could see the magic nodded in agreement.
"That means that somehow the taint of the water spread to sources beyond the main…which may explain why Keledrial was affected…the water is a part of him, as it would be for every Rylonar villager."
"What are you getting at?" Liralyn wanted to know. Tobias bit his lower lips and I could see that a thought was heavy in his mind.
"I traveled a lot when I was young…and in a circus you hear all sorts of stories. And I have heard stories like this before. In the Moonshaes they have pools similar to this…pools called Moonwells. But those pools are dedicated to the goddess called the Earthmother…on the mainland she is called Chauntea."
"The Moonshaes goddess has no sway in Ruathym," one of the warriors growled, with other nodding vigorously, looking upset.
"I know that's why I was confused…but then I remembered that she is not the only goddess to have such pools. The goddess of magic, Mystra, is also known to have similar pools…not dedicated to her, but created by her for purposes unknown, even to her clergy."
"No magic goddess has sway here either," Eirik gravely informed us. "Tempus is our master."
"That's the point, though, don't you see? Mystra has no control over the pools…only created them. The pool may have been here for ages…even since the beginning of magic. Untouched, the pools are of pure magic and would rarely be known for anything other than the water it appears to be. But the histories are riddled with tales of how the pools can be corrupted…so easily corrupted by a mere touch or an ill wish."
"But if it's a well it would have had to be dug…the water would have been touched before," Kelly argued. Tobias shook his head.
"That's the beauty of it. The villagers of Rylonar never knew what power was beneath their feet. Digging a well would have borne no ill wish…only hope of water. Hope is not corrupting. And once dug, a bucket was lower to draw the water up. The water consumed still worked on the Ruathen, altering them as the water reacted to their hopes and desires. And what would simple human villagers hope for? To be stronger and taller…to have their children live through the winters…to have their wounds heal swiftly…all that happened in Rylonar but the source…the source was never tainted! Don't you see? If I'm right, then a pool of magic feeds the well of Rylonar and the people have been, in effect, drinking magic in for over a hundred years!"
"And if these travelers came with ill intentions then it is they who may have corrupted the pool," Liralyn mused.
"And depending on what they desired it could explai9n why the whole of the village and everyone else who drinks from the pool are under their control!" Tobias finished, sounding a bit triumphant. For a moment there was an air of excitement at having potentially figured out the riddled, but then Bran asked a question that shattered that feeling.
"So how do we stop this?" He wanted to know. Silence. We looked to Tobias. The bard shrugged.
"The problem with all the stories is that they were never very clear on how one would destroy such a pool," he admitted.
"The what help knowing what the damned thing is?" Ranon exclaimed.
"If the foe is known then a weakness can be found…and exploited," Lita stated. Speaking for the first time since we had landed.
"Okay…so the travelers showed up…and they asked about the well. That means they knew about it…or at least suspected it existed, right? And all the bad stuff started happening once they found the well. SO they corrupted it and maybe, if we stop them, we stop the effects of the pool," was Kelly's idea.
"They stay in the tunnel near the well, whatever is down there," Eirik told us. "There is no way to get to them without fighting the army of Ruathen they have gathered there. And few old warriors and younglings are not going be enough to get past an army that is hale and strong," the human stated grimly. Again there was silence, although I could practically here the furious thoughts running through the heads of all involved, trying to find a solution. For a long moment I felt despair. How were we going to save Keledrial?
Then, out of the corner of my eye I saw Lita begin to smile. That smile grew into a wry grin, and as her eyes swept the group, they came to settle on Tobias, Liralyn and Sera. The human woman whom my husband so trusted for some reason, chuckled.
"I think I know a way."
Rosealliele Silverspear