Book II Chapter 15: The Vital First Step
The Forest of Giants
Einstall, Schalle
The elven party sat in a wide circle around a roaring fire, their hoods tossed over their shoulders, their steeds grazing quietly just behind them.
The star deer listened to the conversation as intently as any other curious passerby would've; the language spoken was one they had grown accustomed to over many generations.
They would never learn to speak it, but they understood well enough, and their graceful ears turned and flicked at the implications of the heavy words being traded now.
"This has never been a matter of war, E'lenoa. We've said it at least a thousand times... You cannot fight a vital essence of the world!"
The Anshe woman caught the Dremish elf in her dangerous eyes and her voice fell away to nothing. One eye golden, the other stark, deep violet, they flickered in the firelight as though they belonged to some fearful beast.
Depending upon who you asked, they did.
"And do you think they hear our voices over the sounds of their own proud hearts beating? We may be under the same banner, but we're fodder to them, if even that much. My people-- your ancestors, may I add-- had been on this little planet for a thousand years or more before the Flarion came into the picture, and if some of the rumors we've heard are true..."
She paused, chewing on a lock of dull brown hair, "If they're true... we're all bound by blood. But they refuse to so much as acknowledge the tales, let alone admit or deny them, and we're left to scramble to preserve the land as they flap off to cleanse it, or so they say, like so many great, drunken bats. But with the Prince out of the picture, at least for the time being..."
"With the Prince out of the picture, they may be more open to suggestion," an even voice finished; its owner, a Dremish elf by the name of Iren, pursed his lips slightly. His hair and eyes were the color of wine, his skin a mellow shade of warm brown. "Lord Val'aldreni has always single-handedly urged his children into blind rage. He sought to prove his worth to the Bright One at any cost, and he always intended to do it by scouring Valenth of his enemies-- whoever or whatever that might be at any point in time. And while he crafted a formidable army to combat the morte-bound with, they are a malicious bastardization of life. The planet itself has verified that mirajin has always existed."
Soft murmurs rose throughout the camp as elves spoke amongst themselves in hushed tones.
Iren was a senior member, almost as much so as the intimidating Anshe woman, and one of the few who would speak to-- or even of-- her without fear.
Both elves had risen considerable points... but they were a handful of mortals. What could they expect to do to influence the remainder of the Flarion flight?
Now, Iren and E'lenoa exchanged glances. "It's in our best interests to learn what we can, and use that knowledge to both replenish Valenth and revive our order. If the Flarion can be cooled down and made to do this the right way, all the better," Iren continued. "Mutants can't be returned to their original selves, but... there must be a way to neutralize the malignant energies, be it on a case-by-case basis or on a global scale."
"I think we could do for starting small and working our way up." E'lenoa chewed on her lip with a thoughtful look. "We all caught wind of when the mirajin began to settle just a few months ago. It didn't last, but it's possible... that means it's time for us to start learning how to create such a change, instead of our current burn everything and plant seeds in the ashes method." She smirked, leaning back to fondly stroke her stag's white muzzle.
"Someone call up an owl, would you? Tell theLassenmages we've got something interesting for them."
Next Chapter: Book II Chapter XVI
Category: Book II | Story
