Here we go with yet another chapter. Disclaimer - Summer is over and freelance work is picking up, so if I get too overwhelmed with work to the point where I cannot do the fanfiction on a timely manner, I'll make sure to leave a note in my profile, so look out for that from time to time. For now it should be all right.
A day and half to the hour and I've finally arrived...
Elrid's steps resonated on the polished stones of the bridge at the House of Ballads' entrance, where Galin awaited at his usual post. The Fae's minstrel's familiar smile greeted him.
"Ah, the mortal returns again! Are you here to report yet another uneventful day of your life?"
"Sheesh, someone seems to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. And since you seem to not be in too much of a mood for talking, I'll be direct - I'm looking for someone, a female Dokkalfar that goes by the name of Alyn Shir. We have a meeting here, at the House.
"Alyn Shir, you say?" Galin mused, a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. "Ah, yes, the loathe girl...She's been here recently. If you wish to find her, head to the Hall of Accolades. It's where she was last seen."
With a nod of gratitude, Elrid prepared to follow Galin's directions. However, before he could take a step, the minstrel's voice turned more serious. "I would advise you to tread carefully within the House today," Galin cautioned. "A gathering is taking place in the heart of our hall, a contest of sorts. Hallam the White has organized it to fill the seat left vacant by the late Sir Sagrell. There are many Fae who've come to fulfill the tales."
Intrigued, Elrid raised an eyebrow. "A contest for a seat at the House of Ballads? What does it entail?"
Galin chuckled softly. "Ah, it's quite the spectacle, my friend. Bards and champions from all corners of Amalur will compete for the honor of becoming a member of our illustrious House. The stories they will tell and the deeds they will perform, all to prove their worthiness. It's an event not to be missed."
Elrid's curiosity burned, but he knew his primary mission was to locate Alyn Shir. With a polite farewell, he left Galin at the entrance and headed toward the Hall of Accolades, eager to resume his search.
After wandering around the crowds for a few minutes and asking for directions, he had finally found the Hall of Accolades. It wasn't anything much impressive, but it was still quite the magical place.
Right from the entrance, there were big vine looking plants that were formed into the visages of various Fae's. The base of these plant statues started from a small stream, where clean water flowed freely and added a charming aspect to the already tranquil ambience.
At the middle of all of this was a single Fae who was standing upright behind a low table.
He only lifted his eyes briefly to meet those of Elrid's, and then proceeded to stare off into the distance once again.
Okay, that was weird... Elrid thought to himself as he looked around the rest of the hall.
He finally saw Alyn to the right, at a small alcove which was built into the wall, talking to another Fae that had sat on the ground with criss-crossed legs.
He approached them and walked up the few stairs up into the alcove.
Alyn having noticed him, turned and greeted the young man.
"And here I was beginning to think that you'd never show up."
Elrid gritted his teeth a little. "I see you never drop the act of being a tease."
The lithe woman chuckled a little, but ignored Elrid's statement. "Anyways, this here is Glianal, loremaster of the House of Ballads. Give the Codex over to him, and he may have your answers."
"Are you sure? Back when I retrieved this thing, Agarth said that only the High King of the Fae's could read it. He said I wasn't even supposed to be able to retrieve it."
"Loremaster Glianal has devoted centuries to the study of lore and ancient Fae stories. The Codex you found isn't just any lorestone, and he also isn't just any Fae."
With a quiet sigh, and a crossing of hands over her chest as if to signify that this discussion was over, she prompted Elrid to action. "Just talk to him, and I'm sure he'll be able to shed some light on the issue. Now go on."
Elrid took a step forward to the now rising Fae. Now that he was standing in front of him, he was paying more attention to him. He had pointy hair that shooted upwards, as well as a beard and sideburns that could almost pass as arrowheads pointing outwards. Overall, his features were very sharp. His clothes, as much as fused and malformed leaves and grass could pass for clothes, looked highly decorated and far more exquisite than that of the ordinary Fae that he had encountered.
All of this combined gave Elrid the notion that this man was intimidating and he wasn't one to have his time wasted.
The man spoke up to Elrid first. "You must be Lady Shir's friend. She speaks very highly of you - an occasion rare enough to be worth recording in its own right."
Elrid wasn't sure how to respond to that so he just stood there awkwardly. "I guess...it is.."
"Yes indeed...Alas, that is not what we are gathered here for. Let's see this Codex..."
Elrid took a second to pull it out of his backpack and hand it over to the elder Fae.
"Can you interpret it?" he asked. But it was as if the Fae had totally ignored him. Actually, for a moment, it seemed as if he had forgotten about the whole world surrounding him as he was so intensely focused on the piece of round stone in his hands.
"The fabled Codex of Destiny. When the Fateweavers formed their order, our High King gave his own wisdom to assist them. To have such knowledge in your hands is a tremendous gift. But why did it reveal itself to you?" Glianal looked up to the young Almain man.
Elrid thought upon this for a moment, and went with his best guess. "Well, I had seen this Fateweaver and according to him, I've no fate."
The elder Fae looked as if he had been smacked in the mouth. "Nonsense! All Children of Dust have a story that is written before you see your first dawn.
Now, I can only make out some parts, but...this is odd. The Codex speaks of an exception? A void? And end to the endless?"
He handed back the Codex to Elrid.
"This is simply too much - the High King would never pawn such absurdity off as wisdom."
Elrid wanted to argue with this annoying Fae. "I assure you, it's real. I was able to slay th-"
"I'm sure you think it is, but I fear you must have been taken in by a forgery. A perfectly created one, perhaps, but a forgery nonetheless." With each word, Glianal was trembling with more and more rage. "Because this thing speaks of impossible things - changes to Fate, death of the immortals, and other heresies. To ascribe these lies to the High King would be-"
He couldn't take it no more and outright asked them to leave. "I am sorry, but I must ask you to take it away. I will have no part in these lies." he spat.
Elrid wasn't too far away from becoming livid himself. Just as he had thought that he'd finally get help, and start on finding out who he was, here comes this pompous Fae that denies him, simply because he is too proud to see that not all is perfect.
Nonetheless, he wasn't going to give up.
"Are you sure this is fake. And how can you tell?"
Glianal's answer was a short one, but definitive. "If there's a meaning to it, only it's author could tell you."
Alyn was roaming the Hall when Elrid approached her.
"How did it go?" she asked.
"Not as we expected...This stupid old leaf completely rejected it, saying it must be a forgery."
"Glinal spends his life cherishing old stories, but show him something truly new, and he dismisses it." the woman hissed. "Tragic."
With the stone slab in one hand and the other on his waist, Elrid looked a little hopeless.
"What do we do now then?"
Alyn leaned in a little closer, and grabbed him by the elbow, dragging him towards the exit of the Hall. At the same time, she whispered close to his ear so as to make sure that no one else heard what they were talking about.
"First of all, we ignore this fool. Most Fae aren't comfortable with change and you are certainly something new.
"With that said, I'm afraid that only one person will really be able to help us with the Codex, and as you've already heard of him, I'm sure you already have a guess to who it is, no?"
Elrid did not know his name, but he knew of the person that Alyn Shir was talking about.
"The High King, I presume? I'm guessing the title is not just for show, and it won't be easy to meet him probably.."
The two of them exited the hall and out into the lush gardens of the House. They stopped at a vantage point from where they witnessed the departure of the attendees that would trial for the seat of Sir Sagrell.
"You are correct in your guess. It will be difficult - his court is in the city of Ysa. Very few mortals are permitted in its gardens." she pointed out, stroking the petals of a vivid rose.
"I do know one individual who can grant you permission to enter. But you'll have to meet him alone."
Elrid was confused on why he had to go alone, especially when he didn't know this person.
He glanced at Alyn, and he definitely could admit to stealing a few more moments than necessary looking at her. Nevertheless, he posed his question to her.
"Nyralim is a private person, and he carries a grudge against me. Although perhaps "person" isn't the right word for him. Nor is "him"." Her gaze lifted to match Elrid's. "You'll find "him" in southeast Dalentarth, at Caer Nyralim"". Just head towards the giant tree, and... well... you'll see. But you must have been exhausted coming up all the way from the swamps. Do take a breather here, you are free to roam around the House. I will come back later and let you know where you can sleep. See you soon."
She departed, leaving the young and confused Elrid amongst a house full of old Fae.
As Elrid wandered the splendid gardens of the House of Ballads, he couldn't help but feel like an outsider in this realm of legends and myths. The air was alive with whispered tales and vibrant history, and the Fae squires, resplendent in their otherworldly splendor, moved gracefully through the grand gardens.
Summoning his courage, he approached one of the Fae squires, his curiosity about the contest driving him forward. Elrid inquired about the nature of the event, his voice tinged with genuine interest.
The Fae squire, radiant and ethereal, regarded him with a knowing smile. "The contest, my friend, is for a place among the Summer Fae's greatest heroes. A spot once held by the illustrious Sir Sagrell."
Elrid listened intently, his desire for knowledge burning brighter. "Sir Sagrell, you say?"
The squire nodded, and the air seemed to shimmer with the weight of history. "Indeed, Sir Sagrell was one of the seven greatest heroes of the Summer Fae. His ballad is renowned, telling of his daring quest to infiltrate a Grave Thresh's lair, vanquish the vile creature, and rescue the kidnapped maiden."
Elrid's brows furrowed in curiosity. "But if Sir Sagrell was such a hero, what happened to him?"
The squire's expression turned solemn, casting a shadow over the otherwise radiant hall. "A tragedy, it was. Sir Sagrell met an untimely end before his ballad could be completed. His passing left a void among the greatest heroes, and now, a replacement must be found."
Elrid couldn't help but wonder about the circumstances of Sir Sagrell's demise, the questions swirling in his mind like leaves caught in a breeze. Here, amid the legends of the Fae, tales of heroes and their quests, he felt the weight of destiny pressing upon him, urging him forward on a path he had not anticipated.
"I'm interested on learning more about what happened. Can you tell me more?" he asked of the squire.
"Hmm..it is rather odd that a mortal is so vested in our kind. However, it is unfortunate that I cannot tell you much more, simply because I do not know the details.
However I can redirect you to Hallam the White - he is the Chamberlain of the House of Ballads. He knows all there is to the story of Sir Sagrell as he is the Storyteller of our House."
Enticed by the prospect of a good story, Elrid enquired about the whereabouts of the Fae in question.
"You can find Hallam in the main building. You can't miss it - it is the largest one around here."
Following the squire Fae's counsel, Elrid ventured into the heart of the House of Ballads, the grandeur of the main building towering above him. As he stepped across the threshold of the first floor, an eerie hush enveloped him. The room yawned before him, the Fae equivalent of an empty inn or a desolate tavern, with rows of vacant tables and chairs suggesting a long-forgotten revelry. He couldn't help but wonder where the occupants had vanished to.
"Hello? Anybody home?" Elrid called out, his voice echoing in the silence. But the only response was the faint whisper of his own words returning to him.
Growing impatient, he ascended the staircase leading to the second floor, the anticipation building with each step. As the upper level unfolded before him, it revealed a lounge area adorned with an air of nostalgic splendor, as though time itself had paused in reverence to the grand tales spun within these walls. Yet, the pervasive emptiness persisted.
Just as Elrid was about to give up and start turning around to leave, a voice, like a gentle breeze of Fate, called out to him from the far reaches of the room. "Come, young one. I know what you seek..."
Following the ethereal voice's beckoning, Elrid found himself before the second door on the left side. He pushed it open and was met with an unexpected sight—a spartan room, devoid of any furniture or adornments, as if constructed entirely from the vivid green vines that formed its walls. The only exception was that it contained seven throne chairs at the back arranged in a semi-circle. At the center of the room, a solitary Fae sat serenely on the vine-encrusted floor, lost in meditation.
The Fae before Elrid was unlike any he had ever seen—a mesmerizing blend of otherworldly beauty and strangeness. The Fae's skin was a striking shade of cobalt blue, a hue that set him apart from the usual palette of Fae complexions. Cascading from his head like a fiery waterfall, his hair bore a vibrant, flame-colored hue, tied neatly in a flowing ponytail. Yet, it was the remarkable symmetry of this hair that captured Elrid's attention, as it seamlessly melded into fiery sideburns, which, in turn, merged flawlessly with an impressive beard. Every strand of hair seemed to harmonize with the next, lending the Fae a uniquely stand-offish yet intriguing visage.
Despite his peculiar appearance, the Fae's clothing adhered to the familiar aesthetics of his kind. His attire consisted of the customary vines, artfully fashioned into an ensemble that encompassed every aspect of his attire. From his vine-woven pants to his vine-encased torso, and down to his matching boots and gauntlets, the Fae remained faithful to the natural attire worn by his brethren, if not to their more conventional appearance.
The blue-skinned Fae remained motionless, his meditation undisturbed even as Elrid entered the spartan chamber. The Seeker studied this enigmatic figure for a moment, his curiosity growing with each passing second. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of silence, the Fae spoke in a voice that carried the resonance of ancient wisdom.
"You seek knowledge, young one. Particularly about Sir Sagrell." the Fae said, his eyes still closed, as if lost in some far-off reverie.
Elrid was surprised. "How do you know that that is what I'm interested in?"
The Fae opened his eyes, revealing irises that shimmered like twin sapphires. They locked onto Elrid's, and the weight of age and experience seemed to pour from them.
"I am the Storyteller. Hallam the White. Through all of our times that I've sung our ballads, I've encountered you...I guess we can call you a "prospect"..."
The young Almain was perplexed by the cryptic answer. "Prospect? What do you mean by that?" he asked of the elder Fae.
Hallam rose gracefully from his meditative stance, his vine-woven attire rustling softly as he did. He extended a slender hand toward Elrid, gesturing to one of the empty thrones in the room.
With a gentle wave of his hand, Hallam motioned for Elrid to take his place upon the elaborately crafted throne. The Seeker hesitated for a moment, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, but he moved forward nevertheless. He carefully seated himself, the vines molding to the contours of his body with a surprising comfort that defied their rigid appearance.
Hallam, the Storyteller, resumed his seat on a similarly adorned throne opposite Elrid. His eyes, deep and ancient, bore into the Seeker's, and his voice carried the weight of countless tales and ballads.
"You wish to know of Sir Sagrell," Hallam began, his words resonating like the melody of a timeless song. "Sagrell was one of the seven greatest heroes of the Summer Fae, a champion of legends. His ballad, the 'Ballad of Sir Sagrell,' speaks of his valiant quest to rescue a kidnapped maiden from the clutches of the vile Grave Thresh. It is a tale of bravery, cunning, and ultimate triumph."
Elrid listened intently, captivated by the tale that unfolded. "But why did it end abruptly?" he inquired, curiosity gnawing at him. "And why is a replacement needed?"
Hallam leaned forward, his sapphire eyes reflecting the glimmer of the supernatural vines that surrounded them. "The ballad ended prematurely because, in the world of the Fae, stories are bound by the threads of Fate. Sir Sagrell met an untimely demise before his tale could reach its climax. Fate, ever fickle, weaves destinies as she pleases, and we are but actors in her grand play.
Nonetheless, this is most disturbing, as no one expected this. I suppose it is a sign of changing times, signalling the end of our own..."
Elrid absorbed the weight of those words, understanding that he stood at a crossroads where Fate itself seemed to beckon. The Storyteller continued, "A replacement is needed, for the tales of the Summer Fae are not only stories but also the very essence of our existence. They breathe life into our legacy and resonate through the ages. It is a seat that must be filled, and that is why you have witnessed the gatherings of Fae from all lands come to pass the trial at hand."
As Elrid descended from the magnificent, vine-woven throne, a sense of both wonder and apprehension coursed through him. The room, once adorned with opulent beauty, now returned to its austere state, as if the magic of Hallam's presence had been merely a fleeting dream. His words, however, remained imprinted in Elrid's mind, echoing in the depths of his consciousness.
"But I'm not a Fae," Elrid's voice carried a touch of disbelief as he voiced his protest. "How could I possibly be allowed to even take part in the trial? And even if I could, I've got another quest on my hands currently, and I just don't have the time to take away from that."
Hallam, ever enigmatic, responded with a knowing chuckle, his eyes still closed as if he was privy to secrets beyond mortal comprehension. "You'd be surprised at what this world brings, Elrid. And when the time comes, you will realize it too. Now go. I can guarantee we will meet again someday..."
With that cryptic farewell, Hallam the White returned to his meditative state, his presence seemingly dissolving into the very essence of the House of Ballads. Elrid stood there, left with more questions than answers, the enigmatic Fae having added yet another layer of mystery to his already bewildering journey.
Feeling that he had exhausted the possibilities within the House of Ballads for the time being, Elrid reluctantly turned away from the room and made his way out of the main building. As he stepped into the fleeting daylight which was starting to give way to the dawn, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was merely the beginning of a much grander story that awaited him.
Alyn Shir's voice broke through Elrid's contemplative reverie as she approached him in the tranquil garden of the House of Ballads. "Are you always this productive?"
He turned towards her with a small smile. "Not usually. I...well I'd have loved to tell you what I was like before, but I don't remember it myself..."
His eyes, usually so sharp and focused, now gazed outwards and upwards at the open sky with an air of innocence that was somewhat deceptive. To anyone unfamiliar with his past, he might have appeared aloof and naive, but Alyn knew better than to be fooled by this facade. She had known Elrid in a time when he was anything but innocent.
The man she remembered from his previous life was a stark contrast to the serene figure before her. He had been cruel, direct, and ruthless. The memories of his cutthroat actions were etched deeply into her mind, and it was challenging to reconcile that past version of him with the serene individual who now sat in the garden.
She dispersed the thoughts, and tossed him a leather roll that was binded with a string so as to not untangle.
He caught it one-handed midair. "What've you got for me? A present? Should I be worried about my wellbeing, recounting how our first meeting went?"
"Ha-ha. You are so very funny, you know that, right?" she grimaced as she sat down next to him in the gardens. "You will need these going forward, it's a repair kit for your weapon and armour.
Elrid carefully unfastened the tightly bound roll of tools, placing it gently on the ground before him. He surveyed the assortment of instruments laid out before him, each possessing an air of craftsmanship and precision. With a mixture of gratitude and self-deprecating humor, he turned to the woman seated beside him.
"Well, I can't express my thanks enough, but I must admit, I'm a bit lost when it comes to using these tools. They're undoubtedly skilled creations, but their potential is lost on me," he remarked with a teasing lilt in his voice.
Alyn Shir regarded him with a knowing look, her expression revealing a hint of amusement. "That's precisely why you'll be spending the rest of the evening with me in the forgery, learning the intricacies of these instruments. In your situation, you can't afford to trust just anyone, and not everyone you meet will be as benevolent as I am. You'll likely find yourself alone more often than not, and it's crucial that you learn to care for yourself and your tools. Let's not waste any more time; the day is waning," she declared, rising from her seat and extending a hand to help him up.
With that, they set off, embarking on an evening of learning and preparation.
Thanks for reading everybody! As always, leave reviews after reading because I love reading what you have to say about the story!
Next Chapter - 13/10/23
