Moonsword - Chapter 18

Chapter  18

 Tolian rode some distance from the gate and looked up at the magnificence of Hyge Bryth.  It was an achievement of architecture and ingenuity, unparalleled in her experience.  The work involved to hew such a structure from the mountain spoke much concerning the power and dedication of the druids.  Briefly she found herself lost in the wonder of the temple and its intricacies, forgetting everything else in her awe.

Then she saw Kalabred ride out from the gate and heard a great cheer arise from the crowd of druids.  Kalabred was dressed in his druidic battle armor and white woolen cloak, and sat proudly on his faerie steed.  He seemed a capable fellow and Tolian was glad to have him for the expedition.  Next Brythia rode out of the temple, and again a commotion of vocal support issued from Hyge Bryth.  She was dazzling.  She had on her own version of the druidic armor and a cloak similar to the one Kalabred wore; apparently the outfit was pretty much standard issue amongst the druids.

Tolian waited for Kalabred and Brythia to catch up, as she wasn’t certain as to the best route to Lorm from the druids’ secret abode.  Findelbres was emerging from the gate when Brythia drew up to Tolian and Kalabred.

“Would you mind taking the lead, Kalabred?” Tolian asked “I’m not entirely sure of the best way.”

“Of course, My Lady,” Kalabred answered, then realizing his transgression excused himself.

“Look, if it’s easier, why don’t you just call me Tolian, I won’t be offended,” Tolian explained.

“Certainly Tolian”

Kalabred rode ahead and Tolian and Brythia followed, riding side by side.  Tolian looked at Brythia.  She seemed happy.  She smiled at Tolian.  Tolian smiled back, she couldn’t help herself.  She was so in love with the druidess.  But, her heart was clouded by Magara’s words.  Should she tell Brythia?  What good would it do?  There was nothing they could do about it if they wanted to; and they were unlikely to want to.  Tolian certainly had never felt such love in  her life.  She was not thrilled that it had been forced upon them, but she could only enjoy and accept it.  It was, at least, much preferable to the other magick the High Druidess had subjected her to.

“Are you sure you’re all right, my love?” Brythia asked.

Tolian nodded, “Yes, I suppose I am, or as right as one can be in my position.  My life has just become so awkward lately.”

“Were you worrying about Delorick?”

“Not right then, but I am still nervous about him.”

“I talked to him,” Brythia said.  “He seemed to understand the necessity of the situation.  Besides, he’s your friend; he doesn’t want to embarrass you.  He was pleased that you’re letting him come.”

“Well, I don’t see as I had much of a choice.  If I know Delorick, he would have followed us anyway.”

“I’ve only just met him,” Brythia agreed, “but I get the impression that you’re right.”

Brythia smiled again and Tolian’s world lit up.  The prince leaned over and kissed the druidess quickly.  They both giggled.  Tolian felt her love for Brythia increase exponentially as she smiled back at the golden haired beauty.  She knew in her mind that the reaction was a deepening of the forbidden magick, but her heart held reign over all else.  What did it matter how she came to feel that way?  Why did anyone fall in love?  What difference did it make?

A casual glance down at her fantastic mount reminded Tolian of a question she had wanted to ask, “Before he gets too close, quickly, tell me what you know of the Good Folk.”

Brythia reflexively looked over her shoulder to see Findelbres still a distance behind (and behind him, she could just discern Delorick riding out of the immensity of Hyge Bryth).

“Certainly.  Well, to start with, they’re not like us.  They look quite similar, to be sure, but they are of an entirely different order of beings.  They dwell in another world.  Yet their world is anchored (perhaps I should say) rooted in ours.  The realm of Faerie lies in what is often called the Astral Plane, which was originally the blueprint of our world.  It is said that the Fay are the prototypes of humanity, or perhaps the descendants of ancients that wandered back into the astral and became ensnared in its glamour.”

“It is unwise to speak of the Good Folk,” Findelbres’ eerie voice broke in, startling both the women.  “Lest they should hear you and take offence.”

He had, somehow, closed the gap in distance in an incredibly short amount of time.  In fact, Brythia had to look back to make certain that the Faerie was not still so far back as he had been.

He rode right alongside of Tolian, smiling in a mischievous, albeit good-natured manner.

“She’s not so far off, I suppose,” he said.  “Though, I didn’t say that, if anyone makes an issue of it.”

Tolian regained her composure and looked into Findelbres’ eyes.  It was more like looking in to the eyes of a dream.  “Why then, if Faerie lies in some other world do you or your Lord or Lady care what happens in this world,” Tolian asked, directly.

“A fair question, fair prince,” Findelbres mused.  “As your friend here just said, the world of Faerie is deeply intertwined with this world.  That is how, for example, I am able to be here now.  Our two worlds are so close that at certain times they can be traveled between.  But, there exists even a deeper relationship between them.  If this world should become desolate, the Realm of Faerie would follow quickly; just as, if Faerie should somehow become cut off from your world, the magick would go out of your lives, and your world would descend into chaos and destruction.”

“I see,” Tolian said.  “Would it be imprudent of me to ask what powers you may possess, good Findelbres?”

“Not at all,” the pale elf assured her, “though, perhaps, you may be disappointed.  I possess no powers which do not derive, merely, from the wisdom gained by another perspective.  Beyond that,” his voice dropped down to such a whisper that they had to lean quite close to hear him, “I reserve the right to surprise you.”

“How did you know about our plan?” Brythia asked.

“How indeed?  Little escapes the notice of my Lord and Lady, especially as it concerns them.  We have known since Brythic made his prophecy regarding the nature of these events to be unfolded:  of the Demon, of our Champion, here, and of their confrontation.  This, we have known.  Besides we have other sources of information at our disposal, of which I cannot here speak.  Let me say, only, that my Lady had known at the moment Tolian was born that he was to be the Champion.  She watched you, often, at play, at battle.  She was quite curious to see how you would, well, emerge from your transformation.”

This, of course, drew a blush of embarrassment from Tolian.  The news of her humiliation had spread, now even into other worlds of existence.  It was not a comforting thought.

“Excuse me,” Myrthis’ voice rang out cheerfully behind them, “Is this a private party or can anyone join in?”

Tolian turned to make some smart comment to Myrthis, but the unexpected sight of Delorick riding by her side stopped her before the words got out of her mouth.

Delorick was looking right at Tolian.  He wasn’t doing a good job of hiding his astonishment at Tolian’s appearance.  He had been advised as to the transformation, but he, apparently, had not quite prepared himself for the actuality.  Tolian watched as his friend’s mouth opened wide in amazement and wonder.  He regained himself fairly quickly, and stared into Tolian’s eyes, no doubt to ascertain whether it was truly his prince that he saw before him.

Tolian held her friend’s gaze for a moment, she did not hide the sorrow or embarrassment that she felt welling up inside her.  Delorick was her friend; that much would never change as far as she was concerned.

“You two probably have a few things to catch up on, I would imagine?” Myrthis observed with some amusement at Tolian’s predicament.

Brythia squeezed Tolian’s hand for support.

Tolian steeled herself, and addressed her countryman, “You look well my friend, considering your travels.”

Delorick nodded, smiling, “And you look fantastic, my Lord.  Though I doubt your father would see it that way.”

That left Tolian speechless.

Brythia spoke for her, “I explained to you why this transformation was necessary.  Don’t you think he feels bad enough about the whole thing, as it is?”

“It is not bad enough that you have reduced Lorm’s greatest warrior to such a wretched state, with no regard for the fact that your twisted plans have left our country with no hope of an heir, and our kingdom in a state of shambles.  Now you speak for him as well.”  Obviously Delorick wasn’t taking it as well as Tolian had hoped.

“That’s enough!” Tolian said with the air of command in her voice.  “I assure you, Delorick, that as much as I hate to admit it, and as much as I detest my current condition, it was necessary for the preservation of not only Lorm, but of the entire World as well.  You know me.  Do you honestly believe that I would... undertake such a thing, without good cause?  Do you?”

Tolian’s tone humbled Delorick immediately.  “Forgive me my friend.  I got carried away, thinking of your father’s reaction.  I imagine that the whole business must be rather unsettling to you as well.”

Delorick paused for a moment, “You’re beautiful.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more lovely woman.”

“Look,” Tolian said, “Try and forget about what I look like, please.  Remember that I’m still the same person I always was inside.  That will make it easier for both of us.”

“Incidentally,” Myrthis interrupted, “Tolian has made provisions for continuing the House of Hemris”

“Indeed,” Delorick asked “What provisions?”

Myrthis answered, “I carry the heir to the throne of Lorm inside me.”

This was as surprising to Delorick (almost) as Tolian’s transformation had been.

“But how?” He asked in amazement.

The two druidesses, the prince and the Faerie looked at Delorick with the same expression.

“Well, of course,” he said, “but when?”

“After we kidnapped him,” Brythia answered.

They explained the whole tale to Delorick, with Kilfrie catching up to add a few details, here and there.  They told him of the Prophecy, the Demon, and the Moonstone.  He listened eagerly, his face filling with grim determination.  When at last they had finished he pledged his life to their quest.  Tolian also made Delorick promise that he would not tell his father, or any other Lormian for that matter, the fate that had befallen the prince.  This too he promised.

“By the way, the name’s Findelbres,” the Faerie said, “It’s nice to make your acquaintances.”

That precipitated a round of general introductions.

“Kalabred,” Tolian called ahead, “Hold a moment.”

The druid stayed his steed.

The rest of the party caught up to him quickly.  Tolian introduced the druid to Delorick and vice versa.  It was determined then that they would take a short break for lunch, at Findelbres’s pleading, “We faerie are a genteel folk, refined to such a degree that we require our meals at regular intervals.”

Uncertain of whether he was joking or telling the truth, Tolian decided to humor him.