Chapter One in The Rise of the Shar

This is the prologue to my book. The characters introduced are not main characters. Esidius does play a supporting role but this is a young adult trilogy and the protaganists are younger.

THE RISE OF THE SHAR

CHAPTER I /Prologue

A single rider raced along the earthen path as a chilly breeze blew idly over the misted hills. It was an early spring morning and a lone traveler made his way along the deserted path to the great city of Orlandus, the pearl of Evalon. Dirt flew behind the elf as his horse’s feet dug deep into the loose soil as he galloped along the path. He had received a summons from an old friend not five days previous and had set out at once. The elf slowed as the mists gathered, pausing occasionally to listen to his surroundings. Since Hels had declared war on the kingdom of elves the roads were no longer safe, for anyone. Though the intruders had been driven back by the superior skills of their elder kin and forced to sign a treaty the war was inevitable. The treaty was only a postponement. The path led over a low hill, a wide ravine fell steeply on the right.

The elf peered through the mists, his superior eyes able to see what those of the other races could not. The mists cleared a short distance ahead and the elf spotted a group of bandits lying in wait, poorly hidden in the undergrowth beside the path. The elf was sure they had heard him coming, for a dwarf was signaling to his companions. The mists re-gathered and blocked the company from view. With a twinge of regret, the elf dismounted and removed his pack from his loyal horse. With a muttered word he sent the creature back along the path out of harm’s way. The creature would return shortly. The elf hoisted his satchel and prepared a spell in his mind. The hidden shapes heard the fading of the horse’s steps and whispered angrily to each other.

The elf lowered his hood briefly and wiped the dew from his brow. He stepped knowingly into the trap, a dagger hidden beneath the sleeve of his traveling cloak. The head of the bandits stepped boldly into the center of the road. Bolik, a dwarf not five feet in height stood with his heavy sword held before him, his bushy beard falling to the center of his barreled chest.
“Stop! Toss me your pack and that pretty gold ring as well!” The dwarf demanded in a deep voice.
“And if I do not wish to part with my belongings?” The elf asked mildly.
“Then your head shall part with your neck.” The dwarf said laughing now as two more dwarves appeared on either side of the elf, and a pair of men behind the traveler. The elf studied his opponents through the swirling clouds.
“You be outmatched five to one, hand over those valuables of yours. Can not ye see that all resistance is useless?”

“Ah, that is where you be wrong, I think. For can you or your men fight what cannot be seen?” The elf replied, and with the swish of his cloak and a quick muttered command, the mists rushed about him and his attackers.
Bolik swore loudly. “I think I got him!” Ker yelled.
“That’s me, you idiot!” Molin replied angrily.
“Keep your wits about yeh, that pretty boy’s here, now find him!” Bolik yelled.

Two of the bandits rushed forward into the empty air. The others looked about warily. Suddenly, one of the men let out a great cry and fell face down onto the side of the path, a silver dagger deep in his back.
“You cannot hope to win!” The dwarf shouted to the mists.
“But I cannot afford to lose.” The elf’s voice came back. One of the dwarves lunged forward towards the voice into the impenetrable mists. The sounds of a brief scuffle reached the lead dwarfs ears and a moment later the mists parted to reveal the fallen body of the dead dwarf. His eyes open, fearful, unseeing in death. No sign of injury marred his body.

The three remaining bandits regrouped, pressing their backs against each other in a defensive stance. The mists began to swirl rapidly about them, seemingly filled with terrible shapes and mutterings with a dizzying effect. Whispers filled the chill air. “Who are you? Who sent you? Why have you come?” The voice was cold yet alluring. The attackers had to fight inwardly to avoid answering the whispered questions. Molin, the remaining human looked from one way to another following the rapidly moving shapes for any sign of the elf. “There! Did you see him?” He asked his companions.
“What do you mean? The Mage is standing boldly before me.” The head dwarf said, staring at a patch of mist.

The remaining dwarf took an unconscious step away from his fellows, falling under the spell’s power. “Come to me, do not be afraid.” The whispers urged him on. The dwarf’s eyes were clouded by the effect of the spell and it seemed that a great secret was before him, just out of reach hidden by the mists. The dwarf walked slowly away from his companions in the trance. ‘After all,’ he thought, ‘why should I stay when they will soon die.’
“Come, just a little closer.” The whispers urged. The dwarf saw himself in the mists, no longer taking orders but standing at the head of a great company wielding a secret power. Ever the voices drew him away and the dwarf saw a great treasure before him and held out his hands dropping his mace. The calls of his fellows were blocked from his mind, seeming to come from a great distance away.

‘Let them be scared for I have found the secret.’ The dwarf thought happily, his hand touching the elf’s cheek. The scrape of metal against metal followed by a dull cutting sound and a soft thump came through the mists.
“I do not appreciate your affection.” The elf whispered.
The helmeted head of the fallen dwarf rolled down the path and came to a rest at Molin’s feet. The man gave a yell of surprise and fear, looking wildly around. Swarms of mist rushed forward and the man shrieked in terror, shielding his face with his arms. Trying to hide the evil shapes from view. The mists threw themselves down his throat, causing the warrior to gag and wretch. He stumbled blindly off the path and up a small hill. Unseeing, the man ran forward and stepped off the ledge leading into the ravine thirty feet below. He felt the rush of adrenaline as his foot met empty air and sank further than it should have. With a muffled cry, the man fell forward to die on the rocks below.

Back on the path the remaining dwarf searched angrily for the Mage. He had lost his entire party to the power of a single traveler and the traveler’s spells.
The whispers continued to taunt him, but at the moment the dwarf’s anger kept him alert and immune to the spell’s seducing power.
“Come out and show yourself, blast you!” He yelled angrily at the mists.
To the dwarf’s surprise the mists parted to reveal the elf a few paces away.
The elf stared at the dwarf coldly. “What have you to say, will you answer my questions?”
“I will not answer, my people will defeat Evalon. Mark my words, one day your lands shall be laid to ruin!”

“That may be true though I doubt it. I am giving you a final choice. You may travel to Orlandus as my prisoner, there to be questioned and reveal all your knowledge of the plans of your peers. You will admit openly that you were sent and that as such, you are in violation of the treaty put in place many years ago. Or I will be forced to kill you.” The elf offered. “Take your pick.”
The dwarf spat at the elf’s feet. “This is my choice, I will not betray our plans to you or your fellow scum!”
The dwarf charged, hoisting his sword high over his head.
“Very well.” The elf said quietly.

Regretfully, the elf traced several symbols quickly in the air. Even as the dwarf came within striking range, a ribbon of silver light shot out from the elf’s hand and struck the dwarf in the chest. Bolik stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. He dropped his sword and clutched at his throat. Next moment he lay dead, face down in the mud.
The elf retrieved his dagger and rolled the bodies to the side of the road. His horse returned and the elf continued on his way. The mists continued to flow in their natural path behind him. That afternoon, Esidius entered Orlandus and made his way to the Palaces in answer to his summons. Esidius looked around the open fields within the city and memories of the years he had spent in training before settling in Ades. He was admitted through the main gate. Glancing around, he noticed several Mages working on building a new wall from white stone. The elf glanced towards the central tower and saw once again saw the familiar faint light issuing forth from the tower’s peak, unseen by the non-magical eye.

Esidius approached the Palace to the right of the central courtyard and knocked on a large door at the head of a staircase.
The bolt was lifted and the door opened a crack.
“Yes? May I help you?” A woman in white robes inquired.
“It is Esidius, Obdurah sent for me.”
“Come in, Mage Obdurah is very ill so try not to stress him overmuch.” The woman whispered.
Esidius was led across the hall and into a small room. An old man with long white hair lay on a bed, coughing weakly. The door closed behind them and Esidius sat on a chair beside his aged tutor. The man breathed slowly for a few moments then turned to Esidius.
“You have come…I fear my time is short.” Obdurah coughed again.
“What is your message?” Esidius asked gently.
“I have… requested that you take my place…as a member of the Cleric Council…once I am gone.”

Eisidius started in surprise, the Cleric Council consisted of seven Mages each with great responsibility. It was said they protected a dangerous secret.
“Sir, I do not know what to say, I had not expected such an honor.”
“I know it is a heavy burden…but you are greatly skilled with runes. Esidius, I would not have sent for you without great need. Our enemies are slipping past our borders with increasing speed. The roads are no longer safe and if something is not done, we will soon be overrun with criminals and I fear much worse. My student, I have trusted you since you first came here over sixty years ago. You must take my place.” Obdurah’s voice became stronger as he spoke but now he paused as though arguing with himself for several moments. “I…” Esidius began, but the old Cleric’s next words caused the elf to fall silent.
“They are back.” Obdurah whispered.
“Are you sure?” Esidius asked after a moment of silence.
“Only the Cleric Council knows the extent of their power…if you were to accept my offer… then I could tell you all that I know.”