The Keystaff Chronicles - Chapter 29

“But master, she could have easily stolen the weapon…”

Tomlin shook his head, “That is not possible, Dezeiriel. These ancient weapons were considered family heirlooms and guarded jealously by the great Houses. Each one is enchanted to recognize the touch of one or two people. The weapon that our young sister possesses is thus enchanted. If you will calm yourself a moment and feel its power, you will know that her blade will turn on any other beside its intended wielder.”

Azarielle gave a nod in acquiescence. The young mage was both impressed and a little alarmed that Tomlin could learn so much about her weapon after one quick glance. The blade held many secrets, some even she had yet to learn. Azariel had gifted her with it the same time he had given her the name Azarielle.

“It is quite beyond your meager capabilities to understand its true power at this time,” he had said. “But with Abihayil’s merciful blessings, you might comprehend it one day.”

“High Mage, it is absolutely imperative that your city prepare itself for imminent battle,” Luthien spoke up. “My companions and I were not able to stop the servant from unleashing the Avatar of Acedia and I fear that your city would be its next goal.”

The High Mage of Shifting Star didn’t say anything for a moment. The glittering brown orbs of his eyes moved from companion to companion before finally resting on Luthien. He sighed softly.

“It was said that when the Great Lady defeated the Avatar of Acedia, she sealed its power with the Keystaff. My master, the former high mage, had always believed that it was redundant for Shifting Star and Falling Star Spires to be built. Legend has it that the Uncrowned Prince had given the seven Great Staves to his generals, and each staff held more than enough power to prevent an Abyssal One from unleashing his/her full power upon this word.”

“I had always agreed with his assessment. Everstar was an impenetrable fortress, surrounded by a shield created by Lady Elucielle herself. Falling Star, which was built after the avatar was defeated, proved to be an exercise in fertility, its power tainted by the vile presence of Acedia. But now, Falling Star is no more and Everstar… the power of Everstar is ancient and terrifying, but like Lady Elucielle’s. Shifting Star truly is the last seal.”

Tomlin shook his head, a grim expression on his face as he turned to regard his city, “Let us be off. We will convene the council. Shifting Star will serve its purpose as the last seal. Our survival depends upon it.”

* * * * *

Built using Everstar Spire as a model, Shifting Star Spire soared above the ancient Shifting Star City. It had not been built from and entire crystal pulled from earth. Instead, it had been created from many large crystals and dwarfed even magnificent Everstar.

Tomlin used mass teleportation to bring the companion into the Spire. There, in a sealed room, they were examined for signs of the plague before being lead to a sitting room. They were brought water and dry flat breads and left to their own devices.

While Ofeera tended to the wounded, Azarielle laid on cold, crystalline floor and rested. The fiery maelstrom continued to roil within her, threatening to swallow her mind and burst forth to consume all around her. Red, or rather, Cyderiel, had calmed her powers once. But the ancient elven mage was not here to help her now.

“The Old one had spoken of Shifting Star Spire,” said Hazuriel.

He stood gazing out from the window of the spire, “She said that Shifting Star became the arcane heart of Aztur after Everstar City was destroyed by the Blight of Pestilence. Such wonder…”

“Everstar City was even more magnificent, once upon a time,” Azarielle replied. The image of the beautiful city that Cyderiel had shown her, with marvelous buildings craft from crystal and wood, perfectly curled together like lovers, came to mind.

“It was home to a hundred thousand people. The buildings were made from crystal and wood, each a masterful artwork created by the mages of old. It was not a mage’s city like Shifting Star, but many mages came here, drawn by the fame of its ruler, the Lady Elucielle Gwenevar.”

“Unlike many of her brethren, Lady Elucielle welcomed other races into her home. Sixty percent of the inhabitants were high elves but the other forty percent were made up of humans, other elves and even dwarves.”

“Aztur’s king, and indeed, the lady’s own family was not pleased with what she did for they feared that her city would taint the purity of high elven blood. But Everstar City had been built by mages of many races and not no Aztur nobles wanted to risk the ire of an Archmage. “

Hazuriel stared at the Azarielle in astonishment, “Lady mage, how did you learn of all this? You speak as if it’s something you’ve seen with your own eyes?”

It was Azarielle’s turn to look startled, but she shrugged and replied. “My master must have told me at some point.”

There must have been something in her tone because Luthien turned to regard her with an expression that clearly indicated he knew she had made that last part up. Azarielle simply smiled at him serenely, not wanting to share the source of her knowledge with him. In fact, she wasn’t entirely certain how she knew all this either. Perhaps it was through dream walking, but Cyderiel must have passed some of his memories to her. The thought that she had a former avatar’s thoughts in her mind made her shiver. If they somehow survived this disaster, she was going to have to find Azariel and have him perform an…exorcise or something.

“That is what my teacher has taught me as well, Sister,” a voice interrupted them.

Tomlin strolled into the room and smiled ruefully, “If it weren’t for these rather desperate times, I would thoroughly enjoy speaking to you more. But the council has gathered now. Please, I would like you all to come and tell what you know.”

* * *

Ofeera rubbed her hands nervously as she followed her friends down the unfamiliar hallway. Luthien was speaking to Tomlin about Achienda, the latter having wanted to hear about this ‘new’ empire. Hazuriel and Gubriel walked behind them, the former looking about himself in wonderment while the latter glared at every crevice and shadow.

Both Breaker and Azarielle walked beside her, one on each side. Guarded by a skilled mage and a slayer of the Brotherhood, she should have no reason to fear, but she was frightened. She thought of Theredoniel and Lucien and then she thought of the governing council of the city and what might happen if they rejected their claims. A hundred thoughts tumbled through her mind and became tangled around themselves until little made sense anymore.

“My lady, it will be fine. They will have no choice but to believe our words.”

Ofeera looked up when she heard the words and saw Breaker smiling reassuringly at her. And surprisingly, she did reassured by his words. There was a cool assurance about him, different from Lucien’s aristocratic arrogance, that set her hear at ease.

“For once, I agree with the elf. Even if they don’t believe us now, it won’t be more than two or three days before Theredoniel and his army show up at the door and they will have to believe what we are telling them,” Azarielle, who was considerably less reassuring, piped in. “But yes, in order for us to have even the hope of survival, there should be some preparations – or well as much as any city possibly could against the invasion of an avatar.”

“Azarielle, you aren’t helping,” Luthien stopped in his conversation with Tomlin and turned to frown at the mage.

“Say, Luthien, are you any good at public speaking? Seeing as how you are a prince and everything, I assume that’s part of your princely training?”

“Lord Tomlin has asked us all to speak.”

Azarielle gave the high mage a rather dubious look, “I am going to guess that despite the fact you are high mage, there are going to be rather more elves than humans, yes? I am not entirely sure if you would really want me to speak to elves. It would appear as though my existence is an affront to their elvish sensibilities, and I am speaking from experience. I don’t typically get past the ‘Good day…’ before they up and walk.

“A member of a noble elven house gave you his name and made you his heir. It must have not been easy for you,” it was Tomlin who spoke. “Such a thing is rare, even here at Shifting Star.”

“Though I suspect something more than just a name caused these…misunderstandings,” Breaker replied.

Azarielle looked at him in surprise and then laughed, “I suppose that might not be entirely unfair statement. But in all seriousness, I think it would be best if Lady Ofeera and Prince Luthien did the talking for us.”

Ofeera stared at her friend in shock, “Azarielle, I couldn’t possibly…”

“Have you noticed that when we passed through the city streets all of the sanctuaries have either fallen into disrepair or are used as something other than a place of worship?”Azarielle interrupted her friend. “And as a healer, I am sure you don’t need me to tell you that there isn’t another healer here.”

“In this place, there are many mages, but no true priests of Abihayil. Luthien, when he isn’t swinging his sword like a monkey, is a paladin and you are a healer – the holy warrior and a priestess. Your voice will carry more weight because you will speak with Abihayil’s words.”

“Azarielle I c…” Ofeera swallowed the words before they could escape her mouth. She took a deep breath, “With Abihayil’s blessing I will try.”

“And I will help you. Every word you speak, they will see with their mind.”

* * *

Azarielle laid upon the balcony of one of the Shifting Spire’s many libraries, a stack of books sitting piled about her. She stared into the starless black sky and wished that she could see the familiar constellations. Yue had taught her the names of the constellations those many years ago.

As his betrothed and a warrior-mage, they had been given more freedom than was the norm for an unwed couple. After dinner, he was permitted to escort her for a walk through one of the many imperial gardens, with servants trailing after them of course. Sometimes, he would tell her about stars and cities she’d never visited. Other times, he would play the flute while she placed a zither.

It was strange that she was even thinking of this now. She had not thought of such things in a long time. Perhaps it was because she was very much aware of the roiling darkness inside her – because she was intimately aware of the whispered promises of fire and destruction. That was why her mind wandered to what brought her peace. Instead of the imperial gardens, she should remember Azariel’s gardens, the beautiful, wondrous gardens equal parts natural and supernatural…

Azarielle wasn’t certain when it was that she became aware of the soft grass beneath her feet, or the cool fresh night air so different from the eternally acrid smell of the Forsaken Lands. But when she did become aware, she immediately recognized the surroundings – the Garden of Red Sun, her home if she had become Yue’s wife.

She must be dreaming, or dream-walking, or whatever it was Cyderiel has called it. For whatever reason, the elder mage had brought her here and if she waited long enough, he’d appear and…

“Ree!”

Azarielle’s stomach dropped to the soles of her voice. The voice was definitely note Cyderiel’s. Very slowly, very reluctantly, she turned towards it.

Yue stood at the entrance at the doors of the House of Red Sun. His black hair was bound in its princely topknot, so black that it seemed to be spun for the very fabric of night itself. His amber eyes, the same color as her own, were wide with shock, mirroring her own, no doubt.

“Anytime now, Cyderiel, or Red, or whatever you want to be called,” Azarielle muttered under her breath.

Yue took a hesitant step forward, “Ree Yonanne, is it really you?”

“Nope you are clearly drunk and hallucinating, so go back sleep,” Azarielle replied. “And Cyderiel, this is not at all funny so you really, really should do whatever and make this go away.”

“Who is this Cyderiel you speak of? Have you taken an elven lover?” Yue’s eyes narrowed.

“That is disgusting. He’s a couple of thousand years old. And also, I really need to stop talking to you, because I am clearly talking to a figment of my imagination. It must be those flat breads I ate. Abihayil have mercy but they were probably going bad. And because of this, I am having an awful dream.”

“Such cruel words – if it is a dream than it is one from which I do not ever wish to wake,” Yue took another step toward her. “Five years, Ree. I have waited five years to see you again. You have become even more beautiful.”

The Keystaff Chronicles - Chapter 28

A third horror had fallen by the time the companions had dispatched the monsters, but two more remained and began advancing towards them. The high elves were no longer directing their deadly barrages at the monsters, having instead turned their attentions upon the ghouls that were moving steadily forward.

Gubriel selected his arrows from the quiver carefully, reaching for Azarielle’s enchanted missiles only when a particularly large group of monsters gathered before him. The Old One sometimes enchanted their weapons before they wandered forth from the forest, but she had never done anything quite so… flashy. The arrows Azarielle handed back to him seared through the air like streaks of fire and erupted the moment it came in contact with the ghoulish flesh.

High elves, even those who were not born with the Arcane Gift, typically had some affinity to Arcane Power. And he was no exception. When his fingers touched the shaft of the arrow, he could feel the mage’s power flowing through it like a living thing.

She was powerful, frighteningly so. He remembered again the vision of the forest awash in fire and her standing there like a creature of power and flame.

Azarielle, in the meantime, had taken on one of the remaining horrors, hopping lightly onto its arm and running up the massive limb as nimbly as if she were running on flat ground. Her lips as she formed her power into a small globe of energy swirling in the palm of her hand. When she was only a few feet away from the creature's hideous face, Azarille flicked her fingers at the creature and the small globe struck it in the face.

The ensuing explosion burned away half of the creature face and it opened its mouth and howled in pain. Its breath was so rancid that Azarielle gagged despite the fact that she had tried to prepare herself. Raising its other hand, the creature tried to swat the young mage as if she was a bug.

Knowing how strong this monster was, Azarielle gathered her power to shield herself. She gritted her teeth as she braced for the foreful blow. But what came instead was a surge of heat from within her own body. For one instant, it felt as though she had been submerged into a hot spring. So sudden and so intense the sensation that her vision swam and her ears buzzed. She was only vaguely aware of power rushing out of her palms before another horrible shriek from the creature snapped her from her stupor.

"What is the matter with you, mage?"

Breaker was clinging to his monster's grotesque flesh, having leaped desperately when a sudden gout of fire had burst from Azarielle's oustretched hands. She had burned away her monster's arm though it would seem that that had not been her intention. She looked dazed and a little confused, but what truly alarmed him was the strange light glowing in her amber eyes. He would not soon forget how her eyes had glowed like miniature suns when she had set the forest ablaze.

Azarielle didn't reply but she did blink and whatever trance she had fallen into was lifted. Apparently deciding to switch tactics, the young mage pulled out a short sword she had attacked Lucien with earlier. Her lips moved and she was suddenly airborne, hurtling toward the horror's face so hard that she struck it full force.

The impact was so hard that Azarielle was momentarily stunned. But when she recovered, she saw with some satisfaction that the sword was buried to the hilt into the monster's face. A sickening green ooze leaked out from the wound and tricked down her arm. She bit back a hiss of pain when she felt it eating away her skin.

But the creature had stopped moving.

She could feel the hilt of her sword grow cool to the touch. And then, to her shock, the monster's face began to shrivel and collapse in on itself. The skin dried up and became stretched out over a skull that was soon crumbling like dust.

With nothing to hold onto, Azarielle dropped to the ground, landing with a great "umph". Her short sword was now blazing with an eerie blue light and humming as if it were one of Breaker's knives. The monster itself crashed to the ground, felled as if it were a great tree.

Remembering the shadowy beings that came out of this monster, Azarielle prepared to incant the words of an attack to crush them. But, as if knowing her thoughts, the sword's blue intensified. And just as the dark form began rising from the dead horror's corpse, her weapon flashed once and blasted the smoky creatures out of existence before they could properly form.

"Well,"Azarielle remarked looking at her weapon in suprise, "That's handy."

She turned her attention to where Luthien and Breaker were still battling their monster just in time to see the gray elf slice the abomination's head from its shoulders. The slim elf had had to put his full strength behind the blow, and it was with an almost artistic flare that he completed his swing. Then, without wasting a moment, he hopped gracefully off the creature's falling body.

Luthien, who had been keep the wretch's many arms at bay, stepped back, letting out a sigh of relief. At some point, he had been grazed by one of the horror's many bladed hands and blood oozed from a gash on his shoulder. A prayer offered up to the Eternal Father and the shadowy being emerging from the monster’s severed neck was destroyed.

As one, the companions turned to see how the high elves were doing. Gubriel and his hardy kin were holding their ground. Red, or rather, Cedriel, had already worked his power on them such that if they made a shot, the unholy power animating the bodies would unravel.

To think that all those living in Everstar Spire survived with the protection of one who had once devoted himself to the Abyssal Acedia. Or perhaps that was what Ellucielle Gwenevar had hoped would happen.

Did that mean there was still hope for Theredoniel?

The image of her friend surrounded by darkness came once again to her mind and she felt herself shudder almost involuntarily. She wondered what was more was frightening to her, that he was damning himself or how easy it would be for the same fate to befall her?

She could feel that fiery, destructive power burning deep inside her, a maelstrom simply waiting to be unleashed. Though her memory of what had happened was hazy, Azarielle remembered the thrill of having that power surge through her. It was painful but also pleasurable. It would be so easy to lose herself in it, to close her eyes and let the flames consume everything around her…

“Azarielle!”

Arms wrapped around her waist and hauled her to her feet. She hadn’t even realized that she had fallen to the ground. The sword slipped from her suddenly nerveless fingers.

“Blessed Abihayil. Azarielle, what is the matter?”

The young mage shook her head, “Just a little tired, haven’t had the proper beauty rest.”

“Your eyes are shinning like the time in the forest,” Breaker replied, looking at her grimly.

Cocking her head to the side, she regarded him for a moment, “And what of it, slayer. Do you intend to turn your blade against me?’

“I would kill you before I let you burn anything to the ground.”

Luthien turned to the gray elf, “Breaker! This is not…”

“But I would not wish to do so, at least not now,” the elf turned to her. “As cursed as your powers may be…”

“… You need me alive?” Azarielle smiled widely at the gray elf as she took hold of Luthien’s hand and climbed to her feet.

Breaker smiled in response, holding out his hand towards her. Azarielle opened her mouth to say something, but for one of the few times, she decided against making any flippant remarks. Instead, she simply took his hand as well.

Her fingers were incredibly warm to the touch, as if she was feverish in fact. Both Luthien and Breaker noticed this and exchanged concerned looks over the young mage’s hand. Her eyes were no longer shinning like suns, but they were still glimmering ever so slightly, an echo of the power roiling through her body.

Unaware of the thoughts going through her companions’ minds, Azarielle suddenly turned her attention to a surge of power some distance away from her.

“We have got new company,” she whispered.

Luthien and Breaker both readied their weapons and Gubriel and his companions turned toward them, their weapons readied.

A silvery light flickered in front of them and an oval doorway snapped open before them. Azarielle closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm her turbulent mind. She allowed the foreign power to flow over her.

Mages and someone else who was not a mage.

Two unfamiliar mages, one whose power reminded him of swiftly flowing river and the other whose power was like the autumn breeze. But amidst these unfamiliar powers, there was one, the warm spring breeze that was very familiar.

“Ofeera.”

“Azarielle! Breaker! Luthien!”

Ofeera rushed towards her friends, tears of relief running freely from her face.

“Abihayil be praised!” Ofeera sobbed as she hugged her three companions one after another. “I felt…”

“My lady, we were not able to stop your brother-in-law in time. He has given himself over to the Abyssal One, Aceida, as her servant,” Breaker was the first to speak.

Ofeera drew back in shock, her mouth forming a perfect “O”.

“And by servant, he means, avatar,” Azarielle sighed. “Who are your friends?”

Still shaken by what she had heard, Ofeera blinked in incomprehension as she looked between Breaker and Azarielle.

“My name is Tomlin and my apprentice is Dezeiriel,” Tomlin replied, stepping forward. “This is dire news indeed. Do I understand you correctly, Sister? Are you saying that an Avatar walks the grounds once more.”

Azarielle regarded him for a moment. The man looked to be his mid-forties with gray touched temples and the beginning of lines forming beneath his eyes. But as his power that carried the sweet scent of red leaves brushed past her, it belied his true age. He had seen the passage of at least six centuries, the same age as her master.

“Are you the high mage of Shiftingstar Spire?” she asked.

His apprentice, Dezeiriel, who had the features of high elf but hair as dark as her own, stepped forward with a glower, “You will address my teacher as Lord Tomlin.”

The dark brown of his eyes and the paleness of his skin told Azarielle that she was looking at one of the moon elves. In times long past, the moon elves and high elves were once kin. However, a civil war tore the empire into and two elven natures were formed – the now fallen Aztur and the mystical Celathur that few outsiders have laid their foot upon.

“Dezeiriel, really, that’s really not necessary!” Tomlin turned to his apprentice with a sigh.

“Well, if you must have it the proper elven way, then…. Greetings, Lord Tomlin, High Mage of Shiftingstar and Dezeiriel of House Quentenar. My companions are Prince Luthien of Achienda Empire - you wouldn’t have heard of it… it didn’t exist ‘til after the fall of Aztur – and Breaker of the Brotherhood of the Red Hand. You also wouldn’t have heard of that, but they are… um… skilled monster slayers.”

The moon elf regarded the mage with suspicion, “How would you know of my House, human?”

“House Quentenar was the only moon elf House that sided with the war. You are a moon elf in ancient Aztur so I took a wild guess.”

The moon elves’ lips drew together in a tight line, “You have presented your companions but not yourself. Who are you?”

Azarielle let out another sigh, “I am Azarielle Yongan Gwenevar.”

Shock passed over both Tomlin and Dezeiriel’s faces, but it was the moon elf who found his voice first, “You lie! A human would not be a member of House Gwenevar.”

“You are most certainly right. I am not a member of House Gwenevar, but that is the name my teacher gave me. And, Azariel pretty much does what he pleases regardless of how displeased his House might be,” Azarielle replied with a shrug.

“That weapon you carry… it is a leech blade is it not?” Tomlin interrupted before Dezeiriel had a chance to speak again. “I am not seen such a weapon for a very long time.”

“Good eye, high mage.”

Tomlin smiled, “My teacher spoke of weapons like this before Aztur…fell, as you said. They were rare even in those ancient days. “That you hold such a weapon is proof enough for me. The Gwenevars are known to have had such artifacts in their position.”