The Triadine Saga Box Set 1: The Triadine Saga

The Triadine Saga

Box Set One

Timothy Bond

Edited by

Kelly Hartigan

Illustrated by

Jeanine Henning

Copyright © 2014, 2015, 2016 by Timothy Bond

All rights reserved.

Second Edition, Revision 2.1, November 2016

Prophecy’s Queen, First Edition, Revision 1.2

The Watcher’s Keep, Second Edition, Revision 2.1

The Dragon Rises, Second Edition, Revision 2.1

The Triadine Saga is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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Prologue

The Triadine Saga is a work of fiction; however, it has been translated from the Elvish annals known as the Menta Renjunkai Paklanta. These chronicles were recorded over several centuries, first by the Elves of the Aren in the city of Archaille before The Breaking, and then later in the hidden Elven city of Alpenvail. At the end of the Second Age, the writings were recovered from the mountain city, and they were completed in the city of Palladium on the Fireheart Sea by the Elves of the Dresda. Some of the slant is therefore toward the Elves as victims or heroes when in fact they may have played a lesser role than contained within.

Scholars also disagree with the translation of Menta Renjunkai, with opinions varying as to whether it refers to the time just before The Breaking or from a period of time even earlier in history. In this writer’s opinion, it refers to both, and its original historical reference was to the time before the rise of humans, when Elves and Dwarves lived in proximity to one another, each serving a different purpose to the benefit of both.

I must apologize in advance for some of the translations in this saga, as many of the words from the original Elvish do not have equivalents in English, and approximations had to be made for the storyline to make sense. In particular, distances, time, and days of the week have been converted to modern units in many places in order for the reader to make sense of the story.

Your indulgence of these small adjustments is appreciated.

I hope you enjoy the story.

Timothy

Reader Comments

Very enjoyable read. Tim’s storyline ranks right up there with some of the classic fantasy writers such as Brooks and Goodkind. Excellent first work.

F.C., United States

I was drawn into a world that I could not have imagined and wanted to keep reading just to stay there! I loved the characters and missed them when the story ended.

J.M., United Kingdom

The Watcher’s Keep is an engaging story with delightful characters. I did not want to put it down even for a minute. I cannot wait until the next book in the series to find out what my new friends are up to next!

D.D., United States

A breadth and depth of story that will keep you engaged for many long, enjoyable hours, more in the vein of Robert Jordan than Tolkien.

J.H., United States

It’s all here: expansive scenery, gripping action, colourful characters, sinister plots and magical wonder. In this first release Tim has set the stage for an enchanting, world encompassing tale and I cannot wait to read the next installments.

D.W., The Netherlands

To my readers from all over the world. It is from you that I draw the inspiration to continue the story of The Children of the Prophecy to you. I hope you continue to enjoy the adventure as we follow them through their trials and tribulations.

Foreword

In this prequel novella to the epic fantasy series The Triadine Saga , we follow the Elven Princess Rozlynn as she struggles with her role in The Prophecy and what she must do to keep the world from falling into darkness.

This is a story of love and conflicts, personal growth, and freedom to choose your own destiny. The world of Elves, Dwarves, and humans, is inexorably tied to magic, wizards, and dragons, as the battle of good versus evil, light versus darkness, wages on.

Will Rozlynn make the sacrifices and the choices necessary to ensure that The Prophecy stays on the right path? Will her sister, the Elven Queen, prevent her from making her own choice? Will Rozlynn's love for an Elven Hunter betray her and lead her astray?

Join Rozlynn and a number of your favorite characters from The Watcher's Keep and The Dragon Rises to find out how it all began.

Chapter 1

A nd I forbid you even talking about it! Queen Lilliene was furious with her sister for bringing up the same topic again. The Princess was stubborn, but it ran in the family.

All the signs point to this being the right time, Sister, Rozlynn argued.

The signs, the signs, the Queen echoed, tired of the argument. You and your sorceress are the only ones who think the time is now.

Rozlynn roughly pushed her chair back from the table and rose with a sigh. She walked to a tower window and looked out across the placid alpine valley.

And if we are the ones who are right? What happens then?

You know I am not a Prophecy Scholar, Queen Lilliene began, trying to soften her tone. Will you present your case to the Council at least?

That bunch of old fools? Rozlynn was still worked up. I don't know why you even meet with them! You know the King has no respect for their decisions at all.

Theinial agreed that the decisions of the Council would be honored and respected, the Queen retorted.

But not followed. Not if they went against his own wishes. He lets the Council sit here in Alpenvail and make decisions such as how much silk will be required next season, or if we will secretly trade with the humans, but nothing that ever affects Kalystra. He would never follow the word of the Council when it came to running his city.

The Queen had long ago given over the daily activities of running the Elven city of Alpenvail to the Council of Nine. This was a group of respected, wise, and ancient Elves who settled in the hidden alpine valley centuries ago. They honored the old ways, and more than most, they understood the reason for this city to exist in the first place. The Council had accepted the responsibility of securing the Earlach Stone after The Breaking of the World at the end of the First Age.

The Earlach Stone was the centerpiece of a magical talisman created through the combined efforts of Elves, Dwarves, humans, and the Nordae-Grandia. The Triadine, as it was called, was instrumental in ending the war. It was an extremely powerful weapon, and no one wanted to see it used again. In the process of defeating the Dark Wizard's armies, mountains were leveled and new mountains were raised. The earth was shattered, reformed, and then shattered again. Only the inner strength of the Princess Symerna prevented the Triadine from completely destroying the world.

Rozlynn understood on some level what the Queen was feeling. Sometimes you had to make sacrifices for the greater good. Symerna understood that when she volunteered to wield the mighty weapon. She died shortly after the end of the war, her soul shattered after what she endured through the power of the Triadine. The Queen was never able to come to grips with her death, even after nearly a thousand years.

Princess Rozlynn was the most beautiful of the three sisters. Thus far, she had not married and spent much of her time in scholarship—though she did not lack for suitors. Even if she had not been of royal blood, there would have been dozens of Elven men pursuing her. Hair of gold that flowed to her waist framed a perfect face with almond-shaped blue-green eyes set just the right distance apart. Her Elven features were pronounced, with high cheekbones, pointed ears, naturally sculpted eyebrows, and a slightly pointed chin. Her nose was dainty but was perfect for her face, with a gentle uplift at the end.

She was slim like most of her kind, though strong and fit. She preferred walking to riding a horse, though she was an excellent rider. With all the research she did throughout the region, she spent much of her time dressed in nondescript traveling clothes and walking the forest roads of the Aren. Though men and Elves were no longer in formal contact with one another, she did keep open communication with the Julean Abbey in Caergana, where arguably the best writings on Prophecy were maintained.

The sisters were currently in the Queen's private study, high in a tower in Alpenvail. The castle complex contained two grand towers—Queen's and King's—connected by a delicate bridge. This city of the Elves located high in the Lumin Mountains was something of a magical place. With the aid of the Earlach Stone, its days were spent in perpetual spring no matter the season. The power of the stone directed the energy of the sun into the surrounding valley using a form of magic now lost to the Elves. This most powerful earth stone was secured in an impregnable tower in the center of the valley, protected by powerful magic as well as the isolation of the Elves.

The city was overflowing with flowers and fruit trees of every type imaginable. The higher elevations of the valley would see the necessary frost to set the fruit on apple, cherry, and pear trees, while the lower levels grew every form of citrus known. Vegetable gardens were abundant. Sheep, pigs, and domesticated red deer provided a year-round supply of livestock. Peacocks, chickens, geese, pheasant, ducks, and pigeons supplied a diverse enough mix of poultry to satisfy any chef. The lakes that dotted the valley were home to two species of trout whose population was well managed by the efficient Elves.

One side of the valley was covered in silkworm farms, the mulberry trees supporting millions of cocoons. Silk in various forms was the dominant fabric used in everything from coveralls for working in the fields to fine gowns for celebrating the dozens of holidays that called for feasts in the Elven city.

Life was easy for the Elves of Alpenvail, and in their isolation, they wanted nothing to do with The Prophecy or anything in the outside world. Rozlynn knew that presenting her case to the Council of Nine was a total waste of time and that the result was predetermined.

I will be leaving in the morning, she announced to the Queen. I'm going to the Abbey to meet with Brother Hewin. He recently received several volumes of Goblin prophecy, newly discovered in ruins above the Northwood. He finished translating most of them, but there are still some things he needs my help with.

You are going back out among the humans? the Queen questioned. Don't you have enough to study in Kalystra? Rykee is very proud of the work he has done on The Prophecy.

I've been over every volume in the Royal Library a dozen times or more, Rozlynn replied. And though Rykee has organized the volumes well, he is no Prophecy Scholar.

You know I don't like it when you go out among the humans, even if it is just to the Abbey. You be careful, Sister, Lilliene said firmly, and take Darius with you.

I always am, and I always do, My Queen, Rozlynn replied with just a little sarcasm in her voice. Roz loved her sister, but she told herself this was the last time she would debate The Prophecy with her.

The two women embraced as only sisters could in the midst of an argument, as one of the Queen's servants arrived in the doorway on the far end of the room.

Excuse me, Your Majesty, the white-haired Elf said, bowing nearly double. You have a visitor in the garden.

In the garden? she asked, raising one eyebrow. Send them up!

I, ah, Majesty, well, I don't think, the servant stammered, not knowing exactly how to reply.

You don't think what? she snapped, a little terser than she wished.

It is ... it is a Dwarf, My Queen, he finally managed to say.

Rozlynn looked at her sister and laughed. Bandefin, she said with a smile on her face.

Who else? Lilliene replied. Tell him I will be right down, she instructed her servant.

The Dwarf was admiring several carved stone pieces adorning the Queen's garden when Lilliene entered from a small door at the base of the tower.

She strode across the northern end of the high-walled arboretum and stood before the heavily bearded little man. How DO you get in here without my Elven Hunters noticing?

The day that a Dwarf cannot evade an Elf is the day the sun will stop rising, the birds will stop singing, and the honey-mead of the Elves will turn to vinegar!

The Dwarf took both of the Queen's hands in his and bowed his head in respect. It is good to see you again, Lilliene, he greeted her in his deep rumbling voice.

Well met, Master Dwarf, the Queen replied formally. Someday I will figure out how you get into my valley without my Elven Hunters knowing about it. What brings you to my city in the mountains?

Someday I will tell you of the secret ways I travel, Queen Lilliene, but not today. Today, I have several more tiella birds for you, he replied, motioning to a small hooded cage on the ground nearby. These are bred for the cold, and though they will return to me without guidance, you should be able to send them anywhere you wish at any time of the year and not worry about them freezing when leaving your valley.

The tiella bird was the ancient messenger bird of royalty in the Aren. In the past, all the races had communicated over great distances using these marvelous little birds. They could listen to a message and speak it back to the recipient as long as it was not too complicated. This was not their only amazing talent. They could locate a person, any person, anywhere in the Aren. If you could describe them in a way that the little bird could understand, it would eventually find them.

Thank you, Bandefin, she said in earnest, but I really do not know how useful these birds are any more. There are so few of us left who can speak with them.

The breeding is something I was doing anyway, he said softly, and as you say, so few of us can speak with the messenger birds ... where else would I take them? It made sense to bring you another batch of these sturdy fliers.

The ability to speak with the birds was now lost to humans and all but Bandefin's family of Dwarves. He was a direct descendent of King Vargas Silverbeard, the last Dwarven King who died in the Great War. Queen Lilliene, Princess Rozlynn, and Lilliene's daughter Lynntania were the only Elves remaining who could speak with the messenger birds. The use of the birds was now very limited.

Bandefin! Princess Rozlynn greeted her friend as she came running across the garden. It is so good to see you!

Princess, the Dwarf replied, bowing formally.

How long are you staying? she asked. At least stay for dinner. We are roasting a goose that got into my Sister's vegetable garden and made a huge mess of things. I've just been to the kitchen, and it smells wonderful.

I'm afraid I cannot stay, Princess, the Dwarf replied, as I don't want to be caught in the mountains after dark.

You just don't want my Elven Hunters to know how you get in and out of here without being seen, the Queen said, only half-joking.

That too, Your Majesty, the Dwarf replied and winked. Seriously, I have far to travel and really must be going. I only wished to drop these birds off and maybe get one mug of your fine honey-mead before I go.

As if on command, a kitchen servant appeared in the garden with a tray of light snacks and three mugs of the Elven honey-mead.

Your wish is my command, Master Dwarf, Lilliene replied and smiled. Please, enjoy a little respite before you leave.

I think I can manage that, Bandefin replied with a grin. The Dwarf did love his honey-mead.

Chapter 2

The trip from Drianna's cottage to the valley where the Wizard Posh had built his tower would have taken the sorceress nearly three weeks if she had not traveled by the Wizard Ways. Though she was not an expert in The Ways, she knew the requirements for navigation in the tunnels below the earth. Without the proper spells and runes, the entrance to The Ways appeared to be a smooth wall of stone amid some ancient ruins.

The Ways were once used by the Nordae-Grandia to travel great distances in very short periods of time. This helped them in their role as peacekeepers throughout the land. Many passages were destroyed in The Breaking, but those that were still working could be used by mages who knew the correct runes.

The challenge of traveling The Ways was compounded by the fact that at each junction the direction you took the last time might not take you to the same place this time. You needed to draw the rune that represented your destination, speak the Words of Travel, and then follow the rune to your desired goal. Travel time between two points was nearly constant despite the distance, which never ceased to amaze the sorceress.

There was an entrance to The Ways near the sorceress' small cottage. She had built her home in the deep woods above the village of Caergana on the northeastern edge of Lake Estonan. She interacted very little with the villagers, though some sought her out for healing and simple magical aids. Though the Church considered the practice of magic blasphemous, they had no real power to control what the sorceress did. She kept mostly to herself so there were no issues. The people were more practical when they needed her, though many called her a witch and felt threatened by her presence when they were not seeking her help.

Emerging from The Ways into a valley deep in the mountainous area knows as the Dragon's Teeth, Drianna surveyed her surroundings. The Wizard Posh was a recluse by choice, and though he protected his valley with wards and other magical devices, she would easily bypass his security and walk the short distance to the tower.

Mylan, it is good to see you looking so healthy, Drianna greeted the single servant that Posh kept. He was human, long lived for one of his species, and the sorceress suspected that Posh was experimenting on his manservant with longevity spells. The wizard himself was more than a thousand years old. Mylan's family served him for much of that time, though Mylan was the last of his line.

Drianna, it is always a pleasure to see you, the old servant said, smiling as he rose from tending a small vegetable garden at the base of the tower. What brings the Gaerwitch to see my Master on this fine day?

The sorceress embraced Mylan, and then taking his arm in hers, she led him to the tower door. I have need of your Master's assistance with a couple of challenging spells.

You think he will help you after the last time? Mylan asked, pushing the door open and letting the lady enter ahead of him.

I have something to bargain with this time, Drianna replied, smiling, and I think Posh will be more than happy to help when he sees what I have to offer in return.

Mylan laughed as the two climbed the stairs to the main rooms in the tower. You two make quite a pair, Drianna. If you would spend more time around my Master, I think the two of you might actually become close friends.

The sorceress laughed lightly before replying, You know Posh and I could never be together in that way. His love of Bethany will keep him from being with any other woman until his last breath.

I do know that, Mylan said solemnly. He thinks of little else these days, I'm afraid. His obsession with bringing her back has completely taken control of his life.

I know, and though I wish there was something I could do to ease his burden, it is one he alone must bear.

The two emerged from the stairs into a large semicircular study where the Wizard Posh sat behind a large desk covered in scrolls and books of all shapes and sizes. His jet-black hair was unkempt as usual. It appeared he had not slept in days.

You have a visitor, Master, Mylan announced.

Go away! the wizard barked without looking up. I will see no one today!

You will see me, you grumpy old buzzard! Drianna barked back.

Drianna, you old Witch! Posh yelled across the room. You dare come back here after the way your last visit ended?

When Drianna had last visited the wizard, she had sought his advice on several magical issues, and in his haste to get rid of her, he managed to cast a particularly nasty variation of a spell that triggered a Vision Rage. These fits were extremely dangerous and could kill anyone close to the wizard when one took him. An uncontrollable Vision Rage had resulted in the death of Bethany and the total destruction of the city of Barren Tor on the coast of the Arithe Ocean. These rages were why Posh lived alone in this isolated valley. The tower's protective magic channeled the destructive power of his rages into the surrounding mountains until they played themselves out.

I have something to bargain with, Posh, Drianna stated, standing her ground. Something that you will want very badly.

There is nothing you can offer me of your Wiccan magic that I cannot already match or exceed with my own, Posh said without looking up. I say again. I am accepting no visitors. Good day, Drianna!

You will want to read this, Posh, Drianna said quietly, holding out a yellowed scroll bound with a new green and red ribbon.

And what is that? Posh looked across the great desk. I have plenty of scrolls and books already as you might have noticed.

Not like this one, Drianna replied. She stepped up to the desk and handed the scroll across to the wizard. Just one thing before you open it, she continued. If you wish to keep that scroll, you will help me with the spells I came here to speak with you about.

I cannot imagine you have anything that I would find valuable—Posh accepted the scroll, its aged parchment flaking ever so slightly in his hands—however I give you my word.

The wizard carefully opened the scroll and started reading. His mouth fell open, and he looked up at Drianna before turning back to the words without speaking. Pushing aside several books on his desk and knocking several more to the floor, he stood and bent over the scroll, gently unrolling more and more of it on his desk.

Do you know what this is? He gasped at last, looking up at the sorceress with wide eyes.

I do, she replied.

No, I mean do you really know what this is or do you just guess?

I know, old man, she said calmly. Though I could not read most of it, as the language is ancient, and it was dead long before I was born. I was able to determine it is a treatise on the resurrection of the dead, written by one of the Nordae-Grandia at a time before the creation of humans. It references only Elves and Dwarves as the lesser races, so I suspect it pre-dates even the Lesser Wizards.

I can read only a fraction of the text, Posh said quickly, but I have volumes that have been translated from this form that I will be able to use as cross-reference material to translate this document as well. It is as you say, or appears to be, at any rate. It may take years of study to understand the finer points.

Posh was lost in the scroll now, and Drianna let him wander deeper into its possibilities before interrupting him.

My price, Wizard, she said at last.

Yes, yes, Posh replied, looking up impatiently. What minor spells are you struggling with where you need my help?

I have a few things I need your help with, and you must give me your complete attention and apply your full talent to the effort. Not like the last time.

She held out her hand in an obvious attempt to take back her scroll; however, Posh left it where it lay and walked around the desk instead. He stood face to face with the sorceress.

What you have brought me may be the key to a lifetime of effort. He looked deeply into her eyes. There is nothing I would not grant you for this boon.

As I hoped, she said, smiling. Let us go over what I need and get to work right away. The sooner we finish, the sooner you can get to work translating those writings.

It took the two mages most of the next three weeks to put together the necessary spells. The runes and the words of power needed were complex and required them to push themselves beyond their normal limits. The spells wove Wiccan and Wizard magic together in subtle ways that were likely never before attempted.

Both of them were exhausted when the task was complete, but Drianna was satisfied that she now had what she needed and could leave the wizard in peace.

Thank you, Posh, she said as she embraced him outside his tower. He smelled of musk and sweat, which quickened Drianna’s heart. Though the two were never going to be openly close, the residue of the magic they worked with for the last three weeks was still strong and nearly prevented her from leaving.

These spells cannot be reversed, Posh repeated for the hundredth time. Be very sure when you cast them that you are ready for the consequences.

That is the intent, Drianna replied, still holding the wizard's hand in her own.

Please do not come back here again, Posh choked on the words, the tears welling up in his eyes.

I understand, and I will leave you alone, the sorceress replied. You will realize someday the importance of what we have done, but for now, just accept my thanks.

The price you paid is worth more to me than anything. He absently rubbed the locket he wore around his neck. This may indeed be the key to bringing back my Bethany.

Good luck to you, Posh, Drianna said quietly. She released his hand and walked down the valley to the Way Gate entrance, her own eyes filling with tears and her sobbing nearly uncontrollable.

Chapter 3

Nearly three weeks had passed since Rozlynn arrived at the Caergana Abbey. She and Brother Hewin were still working through the translation of the book on Goblin prophecy recovered from the ruins of an old Goblin enclave in the Sikyu Mountains.

The Goblins were once known for their scholarship, though that was centuries ago. This volume was actually written before The Breaking of the World. Though it appeared to have several sections devoted to The Prophecy, it was difficult to determine which passages were speaking about the original use of the Triadine, and which may be referring to the present day.

Princess? Brother Hewin was absently rubbing his bald pate. Will you please translate this passage for me? I think my first interpretation might have been incorrect.

Rozlynn took the translated sheets and started to read through Hewin's version.

If you would not mind, he interrupted her, would you work from the original and not be influenced by what I've already done?

She glanced up in annoyance at the frail-looking monk, who often went days without eating while lost in his research. Though he was thin and pale, he could scamper up the library's ladders to the top shelves faster than any acolyte. She had to smile just a little.

I will start fresh, Brother, she said calmly. Both pages?

If you don't mind, Princess.

Brother Hewin was always polite, and when the Princess was here to study, he gave her his undivided attention. Rozlynn settled in to translate the Goblin text, though the age of this document meant that much of what the two of them understood would be in error. The written language of the Goblins was full of metaphors that were based on Goblin history, and that made any translation awkward at best and often incorrect.

The work was tedious, and Rozlynn worked through the first several paragraphs finding nothing of interest. Then she stopped, crossed out the words she had just written, and started the section again.

Bane of darkness. Born of short and long of life. Two are one, opposite and identical. Barak's scourge. Griswold's regret. The impossible is possible. When the ??? rise from spawn ???, the ??? will be the ones to ??? into the void forever.

After she finished as much of the translation as she could, she read this one section aloud. Hewin gave her his complete attention as she continued.

Most of this text is a repeat of earlier sections, she announced, and though it applies to the future of the Goblins, I don't think it pertains to The Prophecy. This one section however might be applicable. There are a few words I cannot do anything with.

Barak? Brother Hewin asked, Isn't that the name of the Dragon Lord who served the Dark Wizard at the end of the First Age? Does that put this prophecy into the realm of those of the First Age?

It does, though I don't think it is accurate to say he served the Dark Wizard. I believe that the dragons were serving their own interests, and that just happened to align with Khollaran, that's all.

Griswold? Hewin asked for clarification. I don't recognize that name either.

You do, you just know him by another, Rozlynn suggested. He was the last Goblin King in the North, after The Breaking.

You mean Grash-nold? Brother Hewin asked.

They are one and the same. Goblin prophecy always refers to him this way. They superstitiously believe that they cannot name their leaders in prophecy. They believe if they use real names that the prophecy will not come true. Having him named in this passage clearly puts it after The Breaking.

You know, most Goblin prophecy was recorded by the seers directly. Brother Hewin was off on an academic tangent now. Goblins with the gift of prophecy were venerated members of society. They lived a life of relative luxury and used several drugs to enter the trance-like state where they could prophecize. They—

Thank you for that lesson, Rozlynn interrupted, trying to get the monk back on track, but I don't think it's relevant to our work.

Of course, of course. He absently rubbed his head while reading the rest of Rozlynn’s translation. I think your version is more accurate than mine, Princess, thank you. I believe I can fill in some of the gaps.

Hewin took the pages and began to copy them. Both he and Princess Rozlynn kept copies of the volumes that the Princess deemed interesting. She would keep just the portions that applied to The Prophecy, adding them to her notebook. Brother Hewin would keep the entire translated volume in the library.

What do you think this section means? Rozlynn asked, pondering the short piece that felt otherwise out of place in the document.

"The words you are missing are part of an earlier translation I did on another section of the document. Let me see if I can put the last part together. 'When the Orc rise from corrupted spawn, the children will be the ones to cast darkness into the void forever.'

I think this is the most accurate translation of the last part, Princess, Hewin stated. This hit home with Rozlynn, as it was confirmation of several other passages that she and Drianna agreed directly applied to the world today.

What are Orc? she asked the monk.

I don't know precisely, he replied, "but the name originated with the Nordae-Grandia, and is related to failed experiments by the Lesser Wizards in the First Age. They were trying to create a race of beings and bring life into existence by themselves. This was the exclusive realm of the Gods and any attempt to do so resulted in abominations. 'Orc' is not a Goblin word, but they use it directly in the text. It's always associated with the Lesser Wizards."

"And how do you come up with 'children' and 'cast darkness into the void’ in this context?" she asked.

"I am unsure if this means 'children' or 'child,' but it could also mean 'twin' based on my understanding. As for 'cast darkness into the void,’ that is also just a little bit more than a guess, but it seems to fit the earlier translations as well. The Goblins rarely name the Dark Wizard, but refer to him as the darkness. Casting him into the void is their way of eliminating him, as they believe he is immortal and cannot be killed."

Rozlynn looked over the finished translation that Brother Hewin created the first time he dissected these pages. His version was very nearly identical to what she pulled from the ancient Goblin text.

I think we are finished for the day, Hewin interrupted her study of the text. How about a meal?

I think a meal sounds wonderful! Darius exclaimed from the other side of the room. The Elven Hunter spoke for the first time in many hours. He was assigned to protect Princess Rozlynn whenever she left the Elven Cities of Kalystra or Alpenvail. I swear, both of you can live on words and air when the rest of us need food and water!

I'm sorry, Darius. Rozlynn meant it, and as she stood, the stiffness now settled into her joints. Let us go down to the kitchen and see what we can find to eat.

Dinner was many hours ago, the hungry Elven Hunter stated, but I'm sure that Brother Andre will have something for us still on the stove.

As the three of them left the library section devoted to prophecy and descended from the tower to the lower level where the kitchen was housed, Rozlynn was beginning to harden herself to the task ahead. She felt certain that it was time for her to act. It was time to help The Prophecy along the path that would preserve the world, lest it fall into darkness for a thousand years.

"Aunt Rozlynn?" the voice was in her head, as Rozlynn was awakened from a light sleep in the pre-dawn morning.

"Yes, Lynntania, is something wrong?" Rozlynn replied.

"It's just that Mother is very upset, and is on her way to Kalystra. She was up all night packing, and she called to me moments ago using the mirrorstone. I wanted to let you know, not exactly to warn you, but you know how she can be."

Lynntania had the ability to scry with virtually any of her people, a once common trait among Elven royalty that was virtually unknown today. Her ability was augmented by green earth-stones cut from emeralds mined by the Dwarves. Each Elf living in Kalystra wore a small green stone around their neck for just this purpose.

Rozlynn absently fingered her own pendant as she replied to her niece.

"Thank you, Lynn, I appreciate the warning. I will be returning shortly, but will no longer debate The Prophecy with your mother. I know the path that I must take, and there is nothing she can say or do to stop me."

"Be strong, Aunt Rozlynn, Lynntania spoke in her mind. If I can do anything to help—"

"I will not pull you into this, dear, she replied, but your support means a lot to me. Thank you."

The link was broken, which meant that Lynntania was either finished or had been interrupted. Either way, it did not matter. The message was clear, and Rozlynn's resolve was set even more firmly than before. The Queen would not interfere with her next steps, but Rozlynn would not engage with her either. Let her think she was winning. Fate would keep them on the right path now.

Chapter 4

King Leondis Tarbane was a handsome man with strong shoulders that sat on a study frame. He was in his mid-thirties, and recently came to power when his father died a quiet death from old age. Old King Adon was loved by his people, and they passed along that unconditional love to his only son.

Leondis was not skilled in warfare, as the Kingdom was at peace both internally and with its neighbors for many decades. He was a trained diplomat, as his father felt diplomacy was going to be the key to ruling for Leondis’ time as King. He was a skilled hunter however, and enjoyed spending time on horse or afoot, hunting with spear and bow in the lands surrounding Solenta.

The capital of the Kingdom was situated on the coast of the Arithe Ocean, just north of the Estonan River. The Great Rift Valley leveled out for several miles before the river met the sea, and this delta was home to flocks of migrating water foul in both the spring and fall. This spring, the hunting was particularly good as flocks of migrating waterfowl were more numerous than in years past.

Has Your Majesty done well today? the castle cook asked, as the King entered the castle through the kitchen doors. Entering through the kitchens would be unusual for most Kings but not for Leondis.

Lord Randolf was the better man today, I'm afraid, Leondis said in his booming voice. I managed to bring down six of the black ducks, but Randolf bested me with nearly twice that number!

Lord Randolf was right behind the King as they came in the servant's entrance, his ever-present smile lighting up the room.

I did bring down ten of the flyers, Randolf admitted, but then I was in a better position than His Majesty in the blind.

Ha, you do try to curry favor! Leondis laughed at his oldest friend, slapping him on the back as he pinched a kitchen maid with his free hand. She squealed and only slightly inched away, giving the King the look that said she would not mind being called to his chambers later.

His entourage today included nobles from all across the Aren, as well as courtiers who wished to curry favor with the young King. Most of these were simply too pompous for the practical Leondis; however, he enjoyed seeing them traipse through the marshes in their finery and attempt to act as though they enjoyed these outings.

Here, Randi, the King grabbed a small loaf of warm, fresh bread and tossed half to his friend. This is all you get to eat tonight after showing me up!

It is a small price to pay, Your Majesty, for the enjoyment that bragging rights bring me, Randi quipped in reply.

The two men laughed together as the servants entered the kitchen carrying more than twenty ducks for the evening meal. The cook took over and shooed everyone out so the staff could get busy preparing the bounty. Leondis was a gentle King, but he did insist that his meals were on time and for the celebration of a successful hunt, that the day's game was the centerpiece for the evening.

Come now, Randi. Leondis ushered his friend ahead of him. We must clear the kitchen before the cook gets out her wooden spoon!

Both men laughed at this, remembering when they were children and this same cook regularly chased the young Prince and his best friend from the kitchens at the end of her spoon. Taking one look at her now, Randi could imagine her doing it again, even to the King.

In the sitting room off the front entrance to the castle, in what was known as the Eastern Throne Room, King Leondis Tarbane sat in his hunting clothes with Lord Halford Randolf and shared another mug of Elven honey-mead.

Where is it you say you get this stuff? the King asked Randolf, slightly slurring the words.

I trade with the monks from the Abbey in Alnen, Randolf admitted. I'm not sure how they learned to make this, or if they even make it themselves, but it is the finest mead I believe I've ever had.

I would have to agree, Randi, Leondis admitted, but after a half a dozen mugs, can you really tell the difference anymore?

The friends laughed and clanked their silver mugs together, enjoying the companionship that came from a lifetime together.

My King, Randolf said a little more seriously. I do believe it is approaching that time, Sire.

And what time might that be?

Why, time for you to take a Queen, Highness. Randolf again urged his friend to end his bachelorhood.

The King shifted the kitchen maid off his lap and stood, walking to a side table with finger foods arrayed for the small group to enjoy. A servant offered to put a plate together for the King, but he waved him away and simply picked at the table as he stood silently.

I know you are right, Randolf, he said at last. I do enjoy the ladies, and there are so many maidens in the Kingdom who have not tasted of my manhood. He smiled at the now abandoned kitchen maid as she blushed and bowed herself back into a corner near the serving table.

The Kingdom needs a Queen, Randi went on, and it's time for you to father an Heir.

Leondis sighed and took a bite from a pork pie, the warm juices dripping into his beard and down his chin. The serving man quickly attempted to hand him a finely made napkin, but Leondis was already wiping his chin on the sleeve of his jacket.

The King needs an Heir, and the Kingdom needs a Queen, he echoed his friend. I do believe I've been practicing at the first item—a wry smile crossed his lips—but I also admit I've not given the second very much thought. You can choose one for me, my friend. Choose me a Queen who will make the Kingdom proud, and I'll keep practicing making an Heir until I get it right!

At that, Leondis swept across the room and scooped up the kitchen maid in his big arms, causing her no end of delight. As she squealed, Randi rose and just shook his head. You enjoy yourself, my King, and I will begin the search for likely candidates to be your Queen. There are political alliances that may be made, both inside and outside the Kingdom. I am certain that with a little work, I can find a suitable Lady who will be both the proper mother for your Heir, and a proper Queen for the people.

You do that, Randi, Leondis agreed with his friend, and I will go practice with this little maiden right now! He hoisted the giggling maid onto his shoulder and strutted from the room—the servants quickly opening the double doors in time for him to pass easily through.

Randi stood staring as his friend, and King, strode boldly down the hall, petticoats flying out behind his broad shoulders, and not a care in the world.

Yes, my King, he said to himself, draining the last of his mead. It is definitely time you settle down with a fine woman and fulfill the role your father prepared you for.

Chapter 5

D o you believe in fate , Lord Randolf? The man asking the question was of average build with long grey hair tied back in a ponytail. He sported a full grey beard and wore nondescript robes. He sat quietly in the corner of the inn where Randi was to meet with his old friend Karoel.

What do you mean fate? Randi asked.

I mean, do you believe that certain men are fated to do certain things in this life, he replied, and that they cannot avoid those things even if they try.

Randi accepted two mugs of ale from the serving girl and slid one across the table to his companion, taking a seat in the process.

I would say a man makes his own fate, Rendil, Lord Halford Randolf was speaking now, as a man of some ambition who loved his King and the Kingdom that was his home. He would do anything to make sure that both were safe.

Interesting, Rendil replied, tugging absently at his beard. Rendil was a wizard. He spent time in many parts of the Aren, and if you asked men to describe him, most would be unable to do so. He passed through the world of men without drawing much attention to himself, though he influenced many a man's destiny in the process.

What brings you to Solenta? Randi asked politely. Though he was waiting for his old friend, he and the wizard were also long-time acquaintances, and this was not the first time they had shared an ale.

I am actually here to see you, though I did not know it until just now, the wizard answered.

I don't understand? Randi replied. How can you be here to see me if you did not know you were coming to see me?

A valid question, but then that comes back to my question about fate. Rendil took a long pull on his mug.

I am afraid you've lost me, Wizard, Randi replied, sitting back in his chair and drawing smoke from a freshly lit pipe. Maybe Karoel can shed a little light on the subject.

The lanky former soldier from Lands End had entered the inn and approached the table with the two men. Randi—he nodded his head towards Lord Randolf—and Rendil. I'm surprised to see you, Wizard.

It is good to see you, Karoel, Rendil replied. I was pleased to hear that you have left the service and returned to stay with your father. I know his health is not very good, and he will be benefit to have you around.

My service with Duke Haren was finished, Karoel answered, motioning for the serving girl to bring another mug, as he dropped into the chair next to Randolf. My father is indeed suffering from long service to the Crown. It is only by a twist of fate that I was able to serve in the army out of Northcastle and not as a servant in the castle.

Ah, fate again, Rendil said quietly, cradling his mug in both hands. How is Lieutenant Pyke? I understand he was seriously injured on one of your patrols?

Lieutenant Pyke is recovering nicely, Karoel replied. He was very nearly killed in an attack in the Sikyu when we trapped a group of outlaws in a series of ravines deep in the mountains. We lost nearly half the unit, and Pyke's injuries were so severe we had to stay through the winter before we could carry the Lieutenant out to safety.

I heard the story, the wizard replied, and I understand that Olman killed a Goblin Commander in that series of raids. That will set them back as they try to establish new leadership.

I never said anything about Goblins, Karoel replied, looking the wizard in the eye.

I know what the Fox Hunters were hunting, Karoel, and I know how successful you were at ridding the area around Lands End of their threat. I am only sorry to see the unit disbanded.

After Lieutenant Pyke's discharge, most of the men decided to end their service when they had the chance. Karoel took a pull on his ale. How is it you two are here together? he asked Randi, changing the subject.

Oh, it's quite by chance, I assure you, Randi replied. I entered just a few moments ago, and the serving girl informed me that my friend was already here and ordered ale. I thought she was referring to you and followed her straight to this table where to my surprise the Wizard was waiting.

Both men looked to Rendil who simply shrugged his shoulders before replying. I assure you, I did not know either of you would be entering the inn; however, I did know that the next two men to come through the door would be critical to my mission. I was very pleased to see it was the two of you.

Now that makes no sense to me, Randi answered, blowing a light blue stream of smoke into the air. More of that fate talk?

Indeed.

What is your mission, Wizard? Karoel asked, setting his mug on the table.

I am here to see that the King takes a suitable bride, Rendil replied. Do you have any more of that fine tabac, Lord Randolf? It's from up around Eagles Reach, is it not?

Randi and Karoel looked at each other in surprise, since they were here for the express purpose of discussing the best way to introduce the King to the proper ladies in the Kingdom so that he could choose a Queen. Neither of them wanted to let the King simply marry for political gain. The courtiers were spending all their time attempting to curry favor for their many daughters, sisters, aunts, and cousins, and making sure they gained something from the King's marriage.

Nearly two months had passed since Randi convinced Leondis it was time for him to take a Queen. In that time, Lord Randolf was named the unofficial matchmaker for the King. He was overwhelmed with the task before him. He had been introduced to dozens of ladies from all over the Kingdom. Promises of riches, estates, marriage to younger sisters, and more, accompanied the introductions. All Lord Randolf needed to do was see to it that the King married the correct woman, and all would be his. When Karoel arrived from Northcastle, Randi knew he finally had an ally in this endeavor he could count on, who would not try to curry favor with the King.

How could you know we were meeting here to discuss this very topic? Randi asked the wizard.

Tabac? Rendil asked again, holding out his empty pipe. Randi pulled out a pouch of the dried herb and passed it to the wizard.

Well? he asked again.

After stuffing his pipe and lighting it with a little wizard magic, Rendil settled back, blew a puff of smoke, and smiled. Fate, as I said.

That's not an answer, Wizard, Karoel piped up. You could not have known we were meeting here, since we arranged this meeting only hours ago. I spoke with no one, and with all the problems that my friend here has with the Lords and Ladies of the capital, I'm certain he spoke with no one either.

Let me tell you both a little story, Rendil replied, taking a deep pull on his ale and settling in with his pipe. It all started nearly a thousand years ago, at The Breaking of the World.

When Rendil finished telling his story, the men were well into their ale, had eaten a hearty stew with fresh baked bread, and were facing a deep-dish apple pie that the cook pressed upon them. The inn was still empty, and she was afraid her baking would go to waste.

I've heard the story of The Breaking, Lord Randolf said, taking a forkful of the pie. But The Prophecy? Now that is something completely new to me.

It's new to me as well, Karoel added, dishing out some of the pie for himself.

The signs all point to a time where the world will be at serious risk again, the wizard said quietly.

You keep talking about the signs, Karoel asked. What do you mean signs? I thought prophecy was all riddles, and its interpretation was just guessing at what these nonsensical writings meant.

Prophecy Scholars are very scarce these days, I am afraid, Rendil admitted, but I assure you, prophecy is not nonsense. It can be hard to understand and difficult to interpret, but it is very real. In this case, The Prophecy contains many possible paths. Some lead to ruin, and some to salvation. The key is to follow the right path.

You still did not answer my earlier question about how you knew that Karoel and I would be here, Randi asked again.

I did not know. The Prophecy told me I needed to be here to stay on the right path, Rendil replied, lighting his pipe that was now quite cold.

How can prophecy be that specific? Karoel questioned.

There are some things that prophecy will make very clear, and others that may never be fully understood, he said by way of explanation. Though I did not interpret the path in The Prophecy that put me here right now, it was very clear to the one who did, that I needed to be here to be able to influence the marriage of King Leondis—so here I am.

Now about that, Randi said, ignoring prophecy for a moment. I have promised not to choose a wife for the King, but to let him choose from the most qualified ladies in the Kingdom. I have quite a list now, and if you wish to add one to the mix, she will have to pass my criteria.

I assure you, Lord Randolf, the wizard said calmly, the woman I have in mind IS the woman the King will marry. All you need to do is to make sure they get a chance to meet—nothing more.

How can you be so certain? Karoel asked.

Prophecy and fate, my friends. Some things are predetermined, and there is nothing anyone can do to change them once the correct path is chosen. We are still on that path, at least for now.

Chapter 6

When Bandefin returned to the home of the Dwarves, deep in the Northern Sikyu Mountains, his three sons greeted him. Beorn was the eldest, nearly fifty-eight now, and ready to start developing his own skills in support of the Clans.

His youngest boys, Volin and Jadon, were forty-seven and thirty-seven, just barely old enough to leave their mother's side. Diagora was the love of his life, and Bandefin would do anything she asked. She never raised her voice with the boys. She kept a clean house and was active in the community of the last living Dwarves.

Welcome home, my husband. Diagora greeted Bandefin with a hug and kiss. Dwarf women were nearly indistinguishable from Dwarf men—unless of course you were a Dwarf—and often sported much nicer beards than their husbands. A man who had a wife with a great beard was proud indeed.

I plan to take the boys out into the valley later today, he announced. The Groundpounders have cornered a small herd of elk in the box canyon and plan to capture a few of them. I want the boys to take part in the effort.

Whatever for? Diagora questioned. We are not herders or breeders. The Gemformers are made to craft exquisite treasures from the raw stones that come out of the earth. That is what these boys were born to do, and that is what they will do.

Bandefin was a Gemformer in name only. His father's family was Gemformers, and he was to follow in their footsteps as the leader of the Clan. He, however, had no skill at cutting raw stones into the multi-faceted gems that marked the Clan. He could breed animals of any species and draw out their best characteristics, but alas, he was not of the right Clan to be a breeder.

You know the old Clan names are no more than that these days, he said gently to his wife. Most of the Clans no longer have the skills that their name implies. All are still required to pitch in wherever necessary.

Nonsense, she replied as she moved the stew off the fire and set it on the table. Sit now and have some lunch. You can tell us about your travels after the meal. We will have no more talk of Clan names today.

When his wife ended a discussion, Bandefin knew that it was really over—at least for now.

Clean up, boys, it's time for lunch, he announced.

The family gathered around a low table and shared the mid-day meal. Though Bandefin had been out in the world for just over a month, the talk at the table was not of his travels, but instead was dominated by his boys telling of their activities of the last few weeks. Bandefin's time to tell his tale would be later, after the evening meal, as the family enjoyed some time together sitting in the summer sun on one of the many terraces that lined the western-facing walls of the valley.

The Dwarves lived in total isolation, deep in the Northern Sikyu Mountains. These mountains divided the world of the Aren from the Northern Wastes. Their ruggedness also provided the perfect place for the now reclusive Dwarves to live their lives completely removed from the outside world. The cavern complex they occupied was once a Goblin enclave. That was before The Breaking, and all sign of habitation by the fox-faced creatures had been erased by centuries of excavation and expansion by the Dwarves.

These caverns did not have the intricate carvings and decorations of historical Dwarf strongholds. The Dwarves who escaped the Great War were sent north in secret by King Silverbeard. It was a last-ditch effort to save the Dwarves as a species, as it appeared the world would be overrun by darkness at the end of the First Age.

Though the Dark Wizard was banished and his armies destroyed, the entire population of Dwarves from the Southern Rilehorn Mountains was wiped out in the final battle. The only Dwarves left in the world were now living in these Northern Mountains. Dwarves reproduced very slowly, and though their long lives made them seem immortal to humans, they were not. They were also unable to bear more than two or three children in their long lives.

Bandefin and Diagora were blessed indeed to have three sons born so close together.

Father, Jadon asked after they finished the noon meal, can we go out and practice weapons? We have no other classes for the next few days. While you were gone, I fashioned several new throwing axes.

Why no classes for the next few days? Bandefin asked.

Besides the capture of the elk, Beorn replied, "the miners opened up a new high-grade vein of emerald last week,