Chapter One
Edahn (EE-DAWN)
"From On High"
Light poked through his eyelids, permeating a soft pinkish hue that acted like a light at the end of a dark tunnel. Edahn stirred at the sight, his subconscious breaking loose its hold as his eyes fluttered open. Wind hummed around his ears as he pushed himself to sit up. Edahn rubbed his right eye absentmindedly and then bent his neck back and forth. A small series of pops rang out, followed by more of the same while Edahn stood up and stretched his arms out.
"Mmph," he grunted. "Really need to learn to sleep in my own bed."
Light spilled in front of his feet which prompted Edahn to look outwards towards the horizon. The sun was peaking just above the green hills. It broke the sky open with brilliant colors of magenta and orange, the colors bleeding across half of the barely woken blue sky. His eyes, right of ice blue and left of warm amber, drifted downwards from the daily sky-painting to the very village he called home. Outside of the town's borders were many farms, though many fields were being stripped bare at this time of year. Harvest had arrived only a week ago. Edahn could still make out the scent of freshly shucked corn.
Further inward, there was the town outside of the city. Nestled outside the three separate gatehouses that permitted entry to the city were boroughs that housed the many farmers, shepherds, equestrian workers and the like. Each of the boroughs boasted its own tiny economy, with people often trading their services for other services. The massive wall of Creagloch itself surrounded the city on three separate sides, with the mountain Creagloch nestled into providing a natural defense on the 'fourth' side of the wall. It was that very natural wall that the Black Keep was built into. A project of well over several years. The Black Keep was carved into the side of the mountain. A massive seventy-five-foot portcullis lined by mortar packed black stained stones guarded the entrance. Oftentimes, it was the scraping of metal against stone that woke him up in the morning whenever he stayed in his home town.
Almost two hundred feet into the air, along a naturally formed cliffside was where Edahn found himself. Nicknamed the 'Gryphon's Roost", it featured a cave that led out to the cliffside. Inside said cave was the very bed Edahn wished he had slept in. It was always just a few feet away, but the man could never find himself in it.
One glance behind his back and the reminder as to why he was so sore shook once before nestling her beak into her taloned feet. Sleeping in the nest was a massive Gryphon. She was a brilliantly snow-white plumed creature with heterochromic eyes similar to her Rider. When she was standing straight, she easily dwarfed Edahn despite being only five years grown. Even at six feet and some odd inches, she still could look down at him like he was a teenager.
"Oy," Edahn said playfully, picking up a pebble and tossing at her crossed feet. "If I gotta get up, so do you kiddo."
The white gryphon refused to stir. Edahn felt his eyes stretch slightly and he rolled his eyes in response to the feeling.
"Terra, I know damn well you're awake. Can't fool me ya brat," Edahn said as he walked past her into his bedroom. Terra herself stirred and poked her head up. She trilled and cooed a couple of times, pressing her mind against Edahn's.
"Yeah yeah, I'm just in the room girl," Edahn mumbled, though it was more to himself. A quick look around and Terra quickly found him. Her eyes, right of silver and left of a muted leaf-green, glistened as she saw him. She leaped out of her nest and dashed over to his side, leaving a trail of hay and sticks behind her. The cave was large enough that even at her near nine-foot-tall frame, she could move around easily. She nipped at his hair, plucking out a piece of his white locks.
"Oy," Edahn exclaimed, looking up at her. She bobbed her head up and down excitedly, then shoved his body with her head.
"It's too early to play," Edahn grumbled, though he did it with a smile. He shoved her beak away with a hand and then turned back to a chest he had only just opened.
"Go outside and fly around a bit girl," Edahn said. Terra leaned her head right next to his in response and she nudged him again.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm not going anywhere girl," He replied, though to what exactly, who could say. Edahn could just... understand what Terra was saying, despite the fact she couldn't make out words like he could.
"There's a council meeting this morning, and then we have to go to the cemetery. Today's Mum and Dad's day. So just fly a bit. Get some hunting in. Anything can happen."
Terra nudged his head with hers. He felt her mind press against his and a warm feeling spilled down his spine. It lasted only a half of a second before the sound of talons smacking against concrete and a CAW echoed around the cave. A brief image of the rushing air crossed Edahn's mind before he forced their connection to the back of his mind. It didn't matter how far away the two were from each other, the bond never faltered beyond their sensory sharing. If he was more than a mile from her, it failed. But her presence, that was ever present as it hung on the edge of his consciousness.
In a way, he was never alone. If there was anything he appreciated about Terra, it was that above all else.
Sadly, there was work to do. As much as he'd like to simply hop on Terra's back and fly towards a new adventure, he had duties to tend to. The King of Speirtalahm had to at least attend the council meetings. It was more important than ever this time around. There were many disturbing whispers that carried along the wind.
Edahn rubbed the back of his neck. His body was still sore from sleeping next to Terra, but nothing more than his neck. He ran his other hand through his hair and immediately found his hair caught in tangles. He groaned and pulled out a black shield from the chest at the foot of his bed. The inside of the shield was polished to such a degree, Edahn often used it as a mirror. He leaned it against the bedpost, then kneeled down and took a look at his face.
His heterochromic eyes were always the first thing noticed. Next was his striking white hair with natural curls that fell down across his shoulders. There were bits of hay and even a stick or two that had found its way into his mane. There were small dark half circles under his eyes. He had a long sword-slash scar across his right cheek. It reached from the base of his nose and went to the front of his ear. Otherwise, his face was unmarked save a few freckles that dotted his high cheekbones. A square jaw and chin were moderately covered by a scruffy white beard. Edahn wore only a white tunic and black trousers. His shoulders and densely compacted biceps stretched the tunic more than it was likely comfortable with. Edahn was a well-built man, with heavily calloused hands and wrists that were bigger than most people's forearms. He was built like a man trained to fight since the word go, and it showed.
Edahn relented from his moment of vanity and quickly picked out the hay and sticks in his hair. He grabbed a length of horsehair of a dresser tucked just beside his bed and tied his hair up in a messy ponytail. A few strands of white danced around his eyes, but it was better than the disheveled mess he had woken up with. He glanced at the mannequin by the entrance to the room, upon which sat the Summit Armor. A Beaumont relic, it was some of the greatest work of a blacksmith in centuries. Carefully laid plate armor with blue accented fabric, it was capable of shrugging off all but the strongest of blows. Not only a fine work of metallurgy, enchantments were woven into almost every individual piece. Edahn wore the armor often, and always so whenever he traveled with Terra. However, it required someone to help put it on. Edahn didn't feel like dealing with that so early in the morning.
Instead, he only took off his white tunic and replaced it with a crumpled blue and black tunic that fit his form better. He stuffed his feet into black leather boots, then grabbed Milleadh, his shield, and swung it over his back. He grabbed his sword-belt and longsword from the foot of his bed and quickly strapped it on. He wasn't exactly "satisfied" with the way he looked, but it was just a council meeting. His looks were hardly a thing to worry over.
Edahn walked towards the large oaken door that separated his room from the rest of the castle and exited the room. Just in front of him was a small corridor, with another door at the end. He would go through it to find himself standing on a large stone platform. Some thirty feet across. carved along the entire edge were a series of runes. As Edahn stepped onto the center of the platform, the runes lit up with a vibrant blue energy and the platform began to descend. The sound of stone scraping stone filled the hollow tube the platform fell down, but Edahn was used to it, it was just a buzz in the background to his thoughts.
This early in the day though, his mind was emptier than usual. The effects of his slumber still lingered in the form of heavy eyelids and thoughts that felt more sluggish than anything. Edahn started to pace back and forth on the descending platform and tried to jog himself into a more useful state. A lurch forced him to stand still, and then the platform began to slow down.
He heard the commotion long before the platform reached its destination. Even through the stone, the vibrations of the cacophony of voices reached Edahn's ears.
"The tremors are absolutely our pri-"
"Absolutely not, can you even imagine the damage if we just let these rebels sit there?"
"And what of the enemies to the south? We've no ide-."
"That is a problem in our future, we're talking about now!"
Edahn rubbed his eyes. More bickering. If there was anything that surprised him most in these types of meetings, it was how hostile the nobility got with each other. Here they were, working together to make Speirtalahm stronger, and still they tried to position themselves against one another.
The platform lowered more, prompting the wild conversations to settle. They could hear the elevator coming to a stop and so they all looked his way as he came to a stop just behind the throne. The room itself was fashioned like a longhouse's feasting hall, able to be modified into a throne room if necessary. The throne itself was made of blackened stone, and across the back was the banner of the Ae'Crou Order. A reared gryphon of white that stood in front of a black hall, with a brilliant shade of blue that served as the backdrop.
"Ladies and Gentleman, it's entirely too early to already be bitchin' at each other," Edahn said as he walked around the throne. In front of him were a few scattered wooden tables at which his councilors sat. Creagloch wasn't the capital of Speirtalahm, and this was one of the ways it showed.
"Your grace," one of the men said, standing up and walking to Edahn's side.
"Roarkie! How's your mornin' brother?"
Roarke Hoalfringr had been the chief advisor since the days of Laverin the Coward, some thirty years past. Eyes of gray, short-cropped hair of the same color and many marks that sagged his face. He wore black finery with gold accents, and smelled like an aged cask of mead, just like always.
"Pleasant as one can ask for your Grace," Roarke replied, bowing his head slightly. "As I am sure you have heard, there are some... disturbing things on our agenda today."
"Oh I didn't hear much," Edahn lied coolly. It was only a half lie, but better to make it seem like he didn't hear their grumbles. "So let's start eh?"
Edahn sat down in front of his throne, his feet dangling off the edge of the dais it sat on.
"One at a time please, I'd rather we not all go deaf before the morning really starts. Ljolfey! Let's start with you."
A screech of wood scraping on stone filled the air as Ljolfey walked up towards Edahn. A broad-shouldered woman, her Stone-Elf blood showed in the way she was built. Jet black hair cropped short like that of a soldier, the locks of black barely dangled over her mossy green eyes. A large scar marred her face, one of a beast with four large talons that slashed her flesh apart like paper. An otherwise delightful complexion and a sharp jawline was hidden by the disfiguring mark. Edahn had always respected that Ljolfey refused to heal the scar magically. It was a marking point for one of her greatest failures, and she wore it like a badge of penance. She wore, as always, the armor given to the leader of the Arlack forces. Brilliantly colored bronze plate with a cyan fabric trim, a longsword dangled off of her hip. The pommel was that of a hawkhead, but otherwise, the weapon itself was plain and minimalistic. As if it mattered. Edahn couldn't think of a more lethal fighter than Ljolfey. Other than the Redhead anyway.
"Tremors on the coastline your Grace," Ljolfey began, placing both hands behind her back as she took a ready stance at the dangling feet of Edahn. "I only just found out an hour past that there is now a large fissure in the ground."
"A fissure," Edahn said incredulously. "Is it natural? How can we tell?"
"It's not natural, your Grace. The tremors are too... erratic. They follow little to no pattern."
"Not to mention Jo-Jo and Ly'el are stuck," A voice rang out from near the back edge of the room. Edahn didn't need to look to see before the speaker walked up.
Oslo Mavavi, the Knight Commander of the Nighale Order stood nonchalantly just a half a dozen feet from Edahn. His oldest friend, she wore her usual piece of cloth over her eyes. Armored robes made out of dark fabric and carefully placed plates of iron; they kept her safe even in close range. She normally had a quarterstaff that she leaned on, but it was nowhere to be seen this time around. Her dirty blonde hair was kept in a barely contained ponytail, a few strands dangling over the fabric over her eyes.
"I sent 'em when Queenie here sent her men," Oslo said, gesturing with a nod at Ljolfey.
"Queenie," Ljolfey grunted, rolling her eyes.
"They've no idea what's causing it," Oslo continued. A smirk ran across her face before she opened her mouth again. "The best Ly'el can tell me is that it isn't natural. Jo, well. Yanno Jo."
Edahn caught a chuckle in his throat and passed it off like a random cough that echoed across the room. Jo-Jo was a wild card at best, and a big loud problem at her worst. Edahn rubbed the back of his neck, then dropped down from the dais to the ground with a soft thud.
"So if it isn't natural, what's the plan you two?"
{Forgive me, but there is something more pressing}
Edahn resisted the urge to grunt at the sudden gong like voice in his mind, opting instead to bite the inside of his cheek. Iufankh, Speir's War Chanter, had lost his voice ages ago and could only speak with telepathy. As valuable as Iufankh was, Edahn never could get over the Cirvu's way of communicating. He detested having anyone in his head.
"Iufankh man, you gotta learn to lower your voice a bit," Edahn replied. He tapped the side of his head to underline the point, but a brief smile melted the barb to be more like a joke than anything.
{My apologies Clan-Leader. But as I said, there is a more pressing matter.}
Ljolfey rolled her eyes but otherwise remained quiet. One of the voices Edahn had heard was hers as he came into the room. She was clearly shaken by whatever the tremors were.
"Alright, what's the rub Feather-head?"
Iufankh stepped forward and joined the half circle that was starting to form around Edahn. He was an unusual sight in the "Lowlands" as his people would refer. Iufankh was a Cirvu, a race of bird-like folk who resembled humanoids with feathers over their thick skin, taloned feet and three fingered hands with opposable thumbs. Many of the race wore large wings on their back that allowed them the capability to fly, though due to the hollowness of the bones, it made them generally weak in close combat. Iufankh himself was a Gra'Cirvu, or more commonly known to the rest of the world as a Wingless. Well over a third of the Cirvu race were born without wings, though it made them no less dangerous. Iufankh was decorated with black feathers, many of them graying at the tips and sitting loosely on his skin. He had lost all but one finger and a thumb on both hands, as well as losing the ability to speak, all in his first battle some decades ago. It was a bit unnatural to see a Cirvu speak as it was. They had chirping cadences, often speaking in a rhythm with breaks in their sentences. One example among many as to how Iufankh himself differed from others of his race.
{It has been brought to my attention by both Knight Commander Oslo and Maire Ulyssa that the final scraps of Queen Mazalin's war have commandeered a ruined fort near our southern borders. This simply cannot be ignored Clan-Leader. The Mad Queen's reign is some five years passed, and still, rebels linger.}
"For the love of," Ljolfey started, turning her head to Iufankh. "They're pissants in a crumbling palace. This is on the Baron of the Shardtooth to handle, not the military, and certainly not the King."
{Yet we must look towards the coastline? You are frightened of the world shaking. It does this with or without us mortals flailing about on the surface.}
"Spoken like every man I've met who can't use a bit of Magik," Ljolfey grunted. She crossed her arms and leaned onto her back foot. "I have three of the Arlacks there, and not a single one tells me it's natural. There's an edge to the rumble beneath their feet, your Grace. Oslo?"
A beat of silence echoed through the room before Oslo tilted her head in Ljolfey's direction.
"Ly'el has said there's something weird about it. He doesn't know what though. Monsters are our speciality more than anything, and both he and I have never heard of a beast causin' stuff like a quake. At least not literally." Oslo said. She spoke somberly and simply. She couldn't really endorse Ljolfey's fear beyond her own trust in the woman's instincts. With Oslo, it was about what she didn't say more than the noise her tongue makes.
Edahn rubbed the back of his neck again and then glanced around at the councilors who had stood to stand before him. He then looked over towards Roarke who had made his way down from the dais and took a stance just beside the King.
"What do ya think?"
Something like a shadow crossed Roarke's face, as if he were just being brought back to reality. He looked at Edahn and then at the rest. He pondered the question a few moments, more than a moment too long for Edahn's taste. Impatience blurred on the edges of his mind.
"Rebels, especially those from a war we won half a decade ago are a problem regardless of the scale. Iufankh is right to want our attention there."
{Deeply appreciated, Lord Steward}
Roarke forced a smile and then threw his hand up in a gesture that showed he wasn't finished talking.
"However," He continued, looking towards Edahn with his stormy grey eyes. "Your grace puts a lot of faith into Ljolfey and the Arlacks. For good reason. They go through agony to become the best of our best. If Ljolfey thinks there is a concern worthy of your attention, I'd hardly say it's anything less than high stakes."
Iufankh visibly bristled at Roarke's words but stayed silent within everyone's minds. Edahn pretended to not notice and chose to take a moment of silence for himself. Thoughts whirled through his mind. Mazalin's loyalists had dogged them for years, little though their numbers were. They had had their minds stripped of anything but total devotion to her cause and as such, presented a difficult and nigh unkillable idea that the Mad Queen's influence would last decades. On the other hand, for something to spook Ljolfey to the point she was openly arguing with Iufankh, that was troubling.
"Ljolfey, what's your plan?'
{Clan-Leader..}
"Iufankh," Edahn said, a stern current lacing his tone. "Ljolfey allowed you to speak. Allow her the same."
Iufankh bristled once more, but otherwise did as he was told and retreated from Edahn's mind. The King gestured to Ljolfey next and prompted her to answer.
"I'm sending my best tracker there your Grace. She's an innate gift for reading magik, and if that is indeed what is causing this disturbance, then she'll be the one to know it. I've instructed the three warriors I have stationed there to keep commoners away, but a few have slipped through and started to spread some daunting rumors."
Edahn nodded. It wasn't much, but better than nothing. He was hardly one to talk about whether or not a magikal threat warranted attention. Other than his bond with Terra, there wasn't a single scrap of magik at his disposal. He knew a great deal about how to fight against the stuff, but it wasn't like he had magik flowing through his veins like most of the world did.
"Iufankh," Edahn said, turning his eyes towards the wingless Cirvu. "Who have you noticed that's unconventional in the ranks?"
{Unconventional?}
"Someone who thinks outside the drills you run them through. Creative thinker, a knack for getting out of trouble just as easily as they get into it."
{Matthew Alessandrios}
Ljolfey chuckled. Oslo groaned. Roarke did nothing but grin.
"Well I can see he's got a reputation," Edahn joked, crossing his arms. "Send him to Shardtooth. Ljolfey, provide one of your Arlacks to help him and the Baron handle this little uprising. Iufankh, Have him take a handful of men, but any force he leads, it needs to come from the Baron's fjord."
{Clan-Leader, I am certain that sending this man to handle this issue will end in nothing but failure. At least allow me to send a man with a grip on his senses}
"Sometimes people can surprise you feather-head," Edahn jibed, a smile tugging at his lips. "Besides, it's the creative ones who get shit done with the least amount of tools. Remember Iufankh, I was once the one Oslo groaned about."
If Oslo rolled her eyes, the blindfold hid it. Her posture sure showed a glimmer of annoyance in the moment, and that was the point. He could have the image in his mind at least.
"But," Edahn continued. "If you want to send someone with him, go ahead. As long as it doesn't stop the two from working together to finish this kind of threat quickly."
Iufankh looked as if he were going to protest. His feathery neck bulged a moment, but the memories of Edahn himself delving behind enemy lines for the better part of the war seemed to provide enough evidence to the cirvu to at least trust in Edahn's judgment.
The King turned his eyes of amber and blue back to Ljolfey.
"I'll join your specialist after I make a visit to the cemetery. I may not understand much about magik, but if it's serious, I need to be there."
Something swirled in Ljolfey's eyes for a split second. Almost like… humor? Was there something funny underneath all of the doom and gloom she seemed to be warning everyone of?
"Of course Your Grace. I'll inform her before I leave for Speir."
Edahn glanced towards the rest and nodded.
"Well? That's it for this mornin' I suppose. Iufankh, I want a report from Matthew when I return to Creagloch."
{Depending on the length of time you spend on this chase, you may or may not have one upon your return Clan-Leader}
Edahn chuckled and turned to walk back up the ramp that led up to the dais. Iufankh was always a surly type, but he hated nothing more than disloyalty. Rebels of any kind were practically scum to the Cirvu. Nothing more than something to scrape off the edge of your boot. Most Cirvu had that honorable streak. It was one of a handful of things that Iufankh shared in common with his species.
The Council, or rather, the two-thirds of the Council that had gathered at Creagloch, took the hint that they were dismissed. Before Edahn reached the top of the dais, he was alone in the room. Only the echoes of his boots against the pallid stone floor could be heard as he went to ascend the platform.
It was time to take to the sky with Terra.
To get to a morning of memories underneath falling leaves that decorated ancient headstones.