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His brother’s face filled his mind, smiling, controlling, ruling him. Then his mother, her lips twisted, judging, discounting.
Asroth was first-created, Elyon’s beloved, captain of the Ben-Elim, the Sons of the Mighty.
Asroth’s starstone fell to earth, vast and filled with power. Somehow it carved a link between the world of flesh and spirit, between the earth and the Otherworld. Men were fearful of this strange object, but the giants forged from it, made items of wonder and power, great Treasures. First was the cauldron, its power used to heal. Then a torc, given to Skald, the giant’s king, and a necklace for Nemain, his queen.
More Treasures were carved from the starstone, this time things of war: spear, axe, dagger. And finally a cup, said to bring strength and long life to all who drank from it.
Elyon realized the extent of his foe’s deception, saw that all had been done to bring him to this point. In horror he ceased the Scourging, leaving a remnant alive. Elyon’s grief was beyond all comprehension. He turned from us, from all creation, and retreated to a place of mourning, cut off from all things. He is there still.
I shall stay and tell my tale, hope that it may serve some purpose, that eyes shall see it and learn, that the future will not repeat the mistakes of the past. That is my prayer, but what use is prayer to a god that has abandoned all things…
Brenin, Lord of Dun Carreg and King of all Ardan, his royal torc and chainmail coat glowing red in the first rays of morning. On one side of him rode Alona, his wife, on the other Edana, their daughter.
‘You don’t have to resemble a mountain to wield a sword,
Corban felt something hot flicker within him, a spark of fire deep in the pit of his stomach, like when his da opened the door to his forge and the flames flared.
‘We all fear, Ban. Even Tull. It’s what we do about it–that’s the important thing. That’s what’ll make you the man you grow into. You must learn to control your emotions, boy. Those that don’t do that often end up dead: anger, fear, pride, whatever. If your emotions control you, sooner or later you’re a dead man.’
He felt his curiosity rising, his blood stirring at Nathair’s words. Some part of the Prince’s enthusiasm was infectious. And for the first time in an age he felt a glimmer of something stir deep inside. He felt of value.
Treasures had been forged from the starstone, seven Treasures–cauldron, torc, necklace, spear, dagger, axe and cup.
No matter how different they appeared, though, there was one thing that bound them. Whether their hair was close-cropped like Veradis’, or long and wild, or neatly groomed and bound, all wore the warrior braid.
‘You all forget one thing,’ a new voice added, Rhin, Queen of Cambren. ‘All this talk of a God-War. For that to happen there must be gods. Elyon has turned his back on us, on all things: men, giants, the beasts of the earth, on all his creation. That is, if our loremasters speak the truth. It takes at least two sides for a battle. Elyon is the absent god. He is gone. So there can be no God-War.’
a deflecting queen how typical! *eye roll*
‘Here is the first part. War eternal between the Faithful and the Fallen, infinite wrath come to the world of men. Lightbearer seeking flesh from the cauldron, to break his chains and wage the war again.’
Meical seemed oblivious, engrossed in the book. ‘Two born of blood, dust and ashes shall champion the Choices, the Darkness and Light.’
Black Sun will drown the earth in bloodshed, Bright Star with the Treasures must unite.’
‘By their names you shall know them–Kin-Slayer, Kin-Avenger, Giant-Friend, Draig-Rider, Dark Power ’gainst Lightbringer.’ And so he went on: read, pause, search. Read again. ‘One shall be the Tide, one the Rock in the swirling sea. Before one, storm and shield shall stand; before the other, True-Heart and Black-Heart. Beside one rides the Beloved, beside the other, the Avenging Hand. Behind one, the Sons of the Mighty, the fair Ben-Elim, gathered ’neath the Great Tree. Behind the other, the Unholy, dread Kadoshim, who seek to cross the bridge, force the world to bended knee.’
‘Look for them when the high king calls, when the shadow warriors ride forth, when white-walled Telassar is emptied, when the book is found in the north. When the white wyrms spread from their nest, when the Firstborn take back what was lost, and the Treasures stir from their rest. Both earth and sky shall cry warning, shall herald this War of Sorrows. Tears of blood spilt from the earth’s bones, and at Midwinter’s height bright day shall become full night.’
‘Or she,’ Rhin said.
This bitch is the black sun isn't she
?!
‘All has been said that can be said. Now is the time of choosing. If you wish to join me, stand with me now.’ There was the scraping of chairs on stone, as kings and barons stood. Veradis counted, frowned. Only five had stood: Romar, King of Isiltir, Brenin of Ardan, red-bearded Braster, Temel of the Sirak and Rahim of Tarbesh.
‘I do not trust Mandros, or Rhin, or Braster. Or any of the others. They all have their secrets, their own agendas. And, for all you know, any one of them could be this Black Sun, or at least serve him.
And you felt anger this time, you say, more than fear. Well, letting your anger rule you will most likely kill you as quickly as fear. There are some that can fight in a kind of red haze of rage. I knew someone like that, once. As it goes, his rage always looked after him. But most likely anger will just flood your mind and make you clumsy, unable to think.’ ‘But how can I ever hope to win? Surely you would be inhuman to not feel anything.’ ‘That’s right, lad, but it’s about control. About who is the master. All men feel fear, all men feel anger. Use it. Harness it like a packhorse to give you
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I had no choice. Honour demanded I fight him.’ ‘You always have a choice. Sometimes it is possible to retreat and keep your honour intact. You can duel with words as well as with swords or fists, you know. Words have a power all their own.
‘Whatever your cause, lies are a coward’s way; and they are like poison. They bring death. Death of trust, Ban. Death of honour, death of respect. Two things,’ he grunted, holding up two fingers. ‘Truth and courage. Elyon gave us the power of choice. Choose those two and they will see you through.
‘I am sorry,’ Thannon said, frowning. ‘I did not intend for this to happen.’ There was a long silence. ‘The power of words,’ muttered Corban and Gar threw his head back and laughed.
Lmao fucking smartass kids
‘Annoying,’ squawked the crow. ‘Yes, he is,’ he heard Brina say. ‘But in a pleasant kind of way.’
This crow is a savage lol
