The Crystal of Ethereia

Chapter Three
Information

“It’s time you knew why we brought you here” Angriel announced with a sigh. “As you know, the king has just passed away, and although there may be many people who have a valid claim to the crown, we must bring back the prince. It is vital that we bring Prince Darius back to take up the throne.” Aranel’s face took on a quizzical expression as he spoke.
“But surely, if there are other people with valid claims, and he left for a reason, why can’t we just have a new bloodline?” Angriel looked at Alzeon who commented, “You’re going to have to tell them Angriel.”
His face took on a forlorn expression, as he continued his speech “If the heir isn’t chosen, the first problem would be having to elect the new king. This could take forever and we want this resolved as quickly as possible.” Angriel sighed again. “However, that isn’t the main reason we want Darius back. First, before you understand why, you’ll need to have a vague understanding of this land.” Aranel and Elessar looked at him quizzically. They were just going to find a prince, why did they need a history lesson?

“Well, roughly 200 years ago, there lived 4 races upon this land, us humans, the elves, the dwarves, and the demons. The demons were an evil spited race, which lived for war and destruction. For years they massed, waiting for the day they could launch a massive invasion against Xalanor, for the demons lived off the coast of Xalanor, in a place known as ‘the Demon city’.” The brothers looked at each other as Angriel said this, they knew of the demon city, but only from legends they had been told as children growing up.

“After months of preparation, they attacked Xalanor. Starting with Port Nareth, the demons of Myhraag worked their way across the coastline, taking Hentana and Laanzatt as they did so. We fought back, but there was little the humans could do. By the time they’d reached Feridell, the elves had signed an allegiance treaty, but the extra power was not enough to stop them from conquering the city. We provided futile resistance at Solidell, and amassed every army in the area to stop them from taking the city. The dwarves fought with us, the elves fought with us, and as a last resort, the angels fought with us too.” Aranel and Elessar looked more disbelieving with each sentence, but hearing ‘angels’ was enough to keep them politely captivated. They looked at each other briefly, and then continued to listen with intent.

         “We held the demons at the city wall for over a month, before we were betrayed.” Aranel looked shocked at this last statement. “Betrayed?” He asked, “By who?”
“The dwarves” replied Angriel, shaking his head. “We had gradually noticed the dwarf population as a whole becoming more secluded and withdrawn, and till one day, they just turned around and attacked us. We never found out what happened to make them do that, but we suspect demon magic was at work that day.” Elessar gasped at this, not wanting to believe what he said about the dwarves and demons.

“Due to this betrayal, the demons broke our defences and got inside the city. We were fighting a running battle, being cut down left right and centre. Everywhere you looked there would be a body of a human. It is said that everyone on the battlefield, including the demons, looked towards the sky as they heard a loud scream. Winged humans were flying from the general direction of the mountains, who started to attack the demons, each angel lifting two and dropping them from great heights. Our soldiers cheered at this wondrous sight, angels routing the enemy that had for so long plagued our lands.” Angriel smiled a little at this.

“Historical accounts say that when landing, the angels turned towards King Indriz, and chanting, the lead angel scratched Indriz till he bled. Some of his blood was sprinkled on the demons, a loud noise could be heard and suddenly the demons were gone, and the lead angel was holding out a crystal to the still bleeding king.” Angriel looked at the two. “And that’s where you come in. It has been said that as long as the same bloodline resides on the throne, the crystal stays locked. However, should the bloodline falter, it will be opened…releasing the hell the demons caused back onto this world”

Aranel and Elessar realised that, although Ethereia was a legend, it would not be worth questioning its validity by not finding Prince Darius. If just one demon were to escape, it could throw the world into turmoil. To let thousands back through would inevitably cause another great war. One that would undoubtedly feature in the tapestries of the future, if Xalanor was lucky enough to hold the demons back. Elessar opened his mouth to ask a question, but shut it, as he decided otherwise.
“How long do we have to find the prince?” Aranel questioned suddenly. “And where exactly is he?”

“Ah,” replied Angriel. “That is where it will get hard, as he was last seen boarding a ferry to the legendary demon city. Why he would want to go there, we’re not sure, but that is where he was last seen. As for how long you have, it has been said that if someone of the same bloodline doesn’t claim the throne within the month, Ethereia will open, releasing demons back into this world.”
“Ah,” said Aranel. “And how long ago did he leave?” another “ah” escaped Angriels lips. “3 years ago”. Elessar blinked in surprise. “3 years?” how were they supposed to find someone who had been gone for 3 years? After the demon city he could have gone anywhere. Even taken a journey across the seas, and ended up in Kansal to the North of Xalanor. Although thought Elessar. That would seem rather pointless.

“One morning the castle woke up to find the prince gone; he must have slipped out of the city under the cover of nightfall. In his wake he had left a note, explaining to his father he didn’t like the intrigues of the court, and wanted to follow his own life.” Angriel glanced quickly at Alzeon, who had been standing quietly in the background, a forlorn expression on his face. “So now you must find him. I have given Alzeon permission to travel with you, as he knows the land better than either of you do, and three is always better than two in a fight.”

"Well, that's settled then," Aranel said, placing his feet on the edge of the table, to the horror of Angriel, and pushing his chair backwards so that it created a hideous screeching sound. Alzeon realized what Aranel was going to do, and covered his ears as soon as Aranel’s feet touched the table, while Elessar sat there oblivious and Angriel’s faced turned from slightly worried to completely tortured. He was shocked that the young hunter would dare put his feet up on the king’s table, but the sound of the chair-legs scraping the floor was enough to stop anyone’s train of thought. The only exceptions were Aranel himself, his brother, Elessar, and Mareia, his only girlfriend, if you could call it that.

“What’s settled?” Elessar questioned, after Alzeon had put his hands back down on the table, and Angriel’s face returned to quasi-normality.
“We’re going.”
“Now?
“We don’t know exactly where Prince Darius is, and finding him alone could take the whole of a month. It wont be easy asking him to return, either. It’s not like he wants to here, after all, and there’s a very good chance he’ll think his father’s trying to lure him back here.” Elessar couldn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t want to live in the capital, let alone rule it, but he knew that what his brother said was right.
“If we spend another day here, it’s another day that could’ve been spent pursuing the prince.”

         “Yes yes, you are right of course,” exclaimed Lord Angriel. “It would be better if you left immediately.” He watched as the two hunters stood. “If you wait an hour while I get the servants to pack some provisions for you,” Angriel said, “You can leave straight after.” Aranel and Elessar nodded, and turned to head back to their room. Elessar was slightly disappointed at not being able to use the great beds inside their room, but Aranel was right, the sooner they left, the more chance they had of succeeding. “Alzeon, are you going to wait with us?” Elessar asked the older man. “No no, I have a few things to sort out here before my departure,” the bearded man said, looking around. “I must gather some of my own personal stuff.”

         Soon the three travelers were mounted and ready to leave, in their saddlebags they had enough provisions for a month, this included hard bread and salted meat and a bedroll was strapped to the back of each saddle. Lord Angriel came out to see the three off. “A word of warning, the road may be tough, and you all know there’s a chance you won’t come back” Angriel looked at the three. “But if you don’t find the prince, there will be nothing worth coming back too. This time…the demons will start inside the city. And then not even the angels could hold them back. Bring back the prince.” Aranel nodded, and spurred his horse on. The three travelers headed down the pathway towards the city. They were going to have to navigate the throng of people on their horses this time, as they needed to be away as quickly as possible.

         It took them a good ten minutes to navigate the city on horseback, though there was only one notable incident. The trio sped up through the poorer section of the city, and Elessar’s horse nearly knocked over a drunken prostitute, who’d stumbled out of a brothel’s doorway a mere second beforehand. As they neared the city gates, Alzeon waved at the guards. “See you soon” he said light-heartedly as he left the city, the two hunters following behind. “How can you be so cheery at a time like this?” asked Elessar. A gloom had come over him since he had mounted his horse, and his head was filled with negative thoughts. I never got to see that barmaid again, Elessar thought to himself. Oh well, now I have something new to deal with. “It’s easy,” replied Alzeon, “Don’t think about what could befall us. Just think about it being a grand adventure, and being heroes when you return.” Elessar smiled at the thought.

Perhaps the barmaid will be waiting for me when I return.


Chapter Four
Quest
The three travelers left the city gates behind them, and started traveling along the land’s main road, which started in Lanzareth and ended in Port Nareth. It was most likely to be full of trading caravans and weary travelers at this time of day. The warm sun was slowly rising to the highest point in the sky, though there’d be some more hours before their shadows were the shortest. The travelers had already passed plenty of people entering the city, wanting to trade their wares as early as possible, so they could enjoy their money in one of the many taverns. There were of course many other roads to the other major towns in the land (however they were created from no more than dirt), but the Royal Highway was the most often used.
Both Aranel and Elessar turned, to take a last look at the majestic city which sprawled out behind them. The smoke from the blacksmith’s fires could still be plainly seen against the morning sky, and, if they listened close enough, the shouts of the city populace could be heard, as they got on with the morning’s business. Turning back round with a sigh, the brothers continued down the cobbled road.

Although they had no need for horses where they’d lived, Aranel and Elessar were both competent riders. As children, they’d taken turns riding Scarlet - Mariea’s horse - around the empty fields near her house. They’d grown quite adept at handling the horse, whose white mane looked adorably out of place, but Mariea was much better. She always looked good with Scarlet, though Elessar often wondered if that was because her long brown hair was the same colour as the horses. It was sometimes hard to tell what they looked forward to most; riding the horse or watching Mariea. They were naturally attracted to her, and, although she was beautiful, that was probably because she was the only girl they’d talked to.

         “So how long before we turn back off into the forest?” queried Aranel, hoping Alzeon knew, because Aranel wasn’t sure what direction they would be coming at their cottage from, and therefore didn’t know when they needed to turn off. “Hmmm, about another hour or so along this road I reckon. Then it’s just…what the?” Alzeon couldn’t finish his sentence as an arrow hit his bedroll behind him. All three wheeled their horses around, just in time to see four armed men riding at them out of the small clump of trees at the side of the road.

Since their arrival at the castle, both Aranel and Elessar had taken to wearing a sword at their side, each brother was fairly competent with the weapon and actually preferred it to the smaller hunting knives they’d used before. Alzeon drew his long sword off of his back, and the three companions got into their first battle of their journey. Quickly Aranel decided that he could fight better on foot. Jumping out of the saddle, brown hair flying, Aranel glanced around for one of the bandits. “Brother!” Aranel heard a call behind him, and ducked, as he felt the wind of a sword stroke blow over his head. That was too close for comfort, Aranel decided. Standing again, he waited for the rider to wheel his horse round, and charge back at him. The rider did the expected, and as he drew nearer, Aranel fell onto one knee and slashed at the horse’s legs. The horse, hamstrung, fell down onto its front knees, its rider going head over heels over the horse’s neck.

Standing, the rider glared at Aranel. Then he rushed him. Aranel was ready for the attack; he parried the bandit’s first stroke, and smacked the bandit in the face with the hilt of his sword. Stunned and glaring with hatred, the rider fell back. He renewed the attack, aiming a slash that could have taken off Aranel’s head. The hunter noticed what he was doing not a second too soon, and ducked again, as the sword cleaved the air where his neck was but moments before. Aranel stepped up and forward, sending his blade through the man’s leather jerkin, and up into his throat. The bandit gargled, and blood ran out of his mouth. Pulling his blade out, Aranel let the man die.

Looking around, he noticed Alzeon and Elessar had dealt with their attackers. The last could be seen, running for his life back into the trees, and relative safety. Aranel looked at Elessar, who was looking at Alzeon, eyes wide open. “How…how did you do that?” Elessar asked Alzeon. “Do what?” asked Aranel. Elessar pointed. “He just zapped that guy with his fingers, and he died!” Aranel’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, and went to study the body Elessar was pointing at. There were no obvious signs of any normal cause of death in a battle, and as he got closer, the faint smell of burning flesh became ostensible. Turning back to Alzeon, Aranel asked “What did you do?”

“It’s nothing special, really, though I guess I should tell you.” He took a few steps toward Aranel, who was slowly walking back to his horse. “I was born in Zaxal, on magicians isle, but my birth was a bad omen, and at three months my family was exiled from the island.” He opened his eyes wide so the two could see that the difference in the colour of each iris; one was green and one grey. Elessar opened his mouth to question what was so wrong about different coloured eyes, but Alzeon started to talk before the young hunter could speak. “To magicians, flaws are curses. A flawed magician is a cursed one, and we all know curses don’t just affect the person that has befallen the ill fate.” He sighed deeply. “Magicians are selfish. They fear only for themselves and their family.” The magician looked at the two hunters. “My parents wouldn’t leave.” He closed his eyes at the memory. “In the end we were physically forced off the island.” Alzeon sighed again. “In the end we made our way to Xalanor.” During his story he had wandered over to his horse, and he proceeded to take a small chunk of bread out of his saddlebag. “We were in Port Nareth, with nothing but the clothes on our back and what money my parents had in their gold pouches.” Alzeon looked around at the waning light. “Lets get a move on, I’ll tell you more once we’ve set off.”

Soon the trio was on the move again, heading down the main road waiting for the turn off into the woods. “Tell us the rest of your story Alzeon,” asked Elessar, who was clearly entranced by what he was told earlier on. “Ok” replied Alzeon. “Well as I was saying, we were in port Nareth with not a lot of money. So, being the resourceful people that they were, my parents decided to stay in Port Nareth. They opened a shop and kept their magic hidden from everybody, they just became normal working folk. Eventually their magic just faded away.” He sighed again, and carried on speaking. “It’s a shame too. They were good magicians. Anyway, once old enough I left Nareth, and made my way to Lanzareth. Long story short, I was taken in by the royal house, although I never was sure why, and that’s really the end of my story.” Aranel and Elessar looked with new light upon their guide.

“Aranel, where are you going?” enquired Alzeon, “This is the turning.” Aranel turned to look at Alzeon, who had stopped by the side of the road and was pointing into the woods. Aranel had been thinking about things so thoroughly that he had almost continued on, if it wasn’t for Alzeon he might have continued for a while. Other travelers continued along the road as the trio turned into the woods. It was humid, and the three travelers didn’t talk much, Alzeon had been thinking of his parents since he had told the brothers about them earlier, Aranel was also thinking of Alzeon, what other mysteries there could be to do with him. Elessar was too busy thinking of that barmaid to notice the other twos silence.

It wasn’t long before the trio was back at the hut, the rest of the time passing without incidence. Elessar’s eyes sparkled as the hut came into view, and he moved his horse into a trot so he could be the first one there. He dismounted; leaving his horse to graze from the grass sprinkled either side of the dirt track. He had only been away a couple of days, and already he couldn’t wait to see his hut again.

A gasp escaped his lips as he noticed that something was drastically wrong. Someone had ransacked their hut. The blankets were strewn across the floor. The one set of drawers had been thoroughly emptied before being tipped over. Their homemade paper was littered across the floor, some with writing on, some without. What little in the way of clothes and personal items had also been strewn across the floor, Elessar’s second favourite hunting knife that he had elected not to take to Lanzareth lay broken in two. He clenched his hands together quickly before unclenching them again as he knelt down to pick the broken halves up. “Damn…” he whispered. Aranel and Alzeon had taken more time in caring for their horses before heading towards the hut. But when they saw the damage both uttered the same word as Elessar: “Damn…”

         Aranel worked his way past Elessar, trying hard not to step on anything that could be important or that wasn’t already broken, and headed into the kitchen area. Pots and pans had been thrown everywhere, the spices had been knocked around, and the entire room smelled of Elessar’s favourite, cinnamon.

         Turning back into the main chamber of their quaint two-room hut, Aranel looked at Alzeon and asked, “Why would anyone do this? Who would do this? And why?”
“Hmmm…” replied Alzeon “Anyone could have done this, maybe local bandits are the culprits” he rubbed his eyes wearily; their journey was already facing difficult twists and turns.
“Why would bandits ravage a place in the middle of nowhere?” queried Elessar, his voice rising slightly as he tried to contain his anger.
“Maybe they were running away…and thought they could gain provisions or seek shelter from this hut?” Alzeon returned in answer to Elessar’s question, he always tried to think everything through logically.

         Elessar slowed his horse and looked to his left where he thought he saw a figure watching the trio from beside one of the many trees in the area. It was there, in his peripheral, for a mere second, but it was there nonetheless. As he turned his head back and concentrated on riding his horse the figure appeared again, this time as a shimmer of light, flickering from tree to tree.

“Aranel, Alzeon, there was something I should’ve told you earlier, but I didn’t think it was anything of importance at the time.” The two listened intently, Alzeon, more so. “When we were riding through the forest, I saw something…. a figure. I only saw it for a second, but there was definitely something there, and it certainly wasn’t a bandit.”
“Describe it,” Alzeon requested, with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Elessar did as he was asked, making sure to state every detail. “It’s cracked,” Alzeon muttered almost inaudibly.
“What?” asked Aranel.
“Ethereia…” he responded. “Your brother saw a demon.”
“A demon? But… they’re locked away.”
“The holding power of Ethereia weakens every second the throne has no familial owner.” His voice was raised in anger. “We don’t know how many demons are already out there, or what they’ve done, what they’re preparing for. For Xalanor’s sake! We need to find the prince!”

         Tears of desperation dropped to the floor in the seconds before he regained composure, and soon afterwards they were hurriedly scouting the house for anything that could prove essential on their journey. Within minutes they were out of the door; sorting the house would’ve been a waste of time, but to Aranel and Elessar, checking up on Mariea was not. Alzeon proceeded to feed the horses while the brothers stood at their childhood friend’s door, fearing the worst. Inside the lantern, Aranel noticed, was not a flame nor a candle, but a rolled up piece of their homemade paper. He reached up and unraveled it, noticing immediately the sloppiness of Mariea’s writing.

Gone to ‘Nareth for the week.

Aranel clenched his eyes shut, not only had their hut been destroyed, but their childhood friend was gone as well.  Aranel scrunched the paper up into a ball and threw it, where it landed on the dusty ground, and would stay there, unnoticed.
“Come on Aranel, calm down” soothed Elessar. “We need to stay calm at a time like this!” he continued almost shouting now.
Aranels breathing grew heavier as he fought with his temperament. Opening his eyes he looked towards his brother, “Lets get out of here. We have a long way to go, and not long to get there in either”

Alzeon looked on as the two brothers talked to each other, they were speaking so loudly now that Alzeon could hear them, and he was sure anyone else who was listening could as well. He just hoped no one else was listening. After a while the two brothers returned to where Alzeon had finished feeding the horses, and had even given them a quick brushing down. “Finished?” enquired Alzeon.
“She’s not in, but she is in Nareth, so we may see her there if we get there in time.” Replied Aranel sedately. Inside he was still reeling at her departure. How could she leave them at a time like this? Right when they needed her most.

It wasn’t long before Aranel had mounted and the trio were on their way again. “Aranel, Elessar” started Alzeon “now I have a fear of a demon after us, we will be taking a different route to Nareth.”
“Where will be going now?” queried Elessar, Maybe I’ll get to see more towns that I’ve never seen before! He pondered on that thought for a moment, and a smile graced his lips.
“Now rather than taking the main road to Nareth, I have contacts in both Feridell and Hentana, so we’ll go through there before heading onto Nareth. Consider it a detour.” As he finished talking Alzeon looked around, “Now…if the road is over there…then we want to be going this way” pointing he steered his horse the desired way, and set off. Aranel and Elessar glanced at each other before steering their horses after the quickly disappearing Alzeon. “Come on, we’ll be at the road to Feridell soon” Alzeon called, letting his words drift back on the wind to Aranel and Elessar.

The sun was high in the sky by the time the trio broke out onto the road. Alzeon called this a road, this isn’t any more of a road then the dirt track that led to our hut! Aranel thought to himself in wonder. Elessar voiced his thought. “This isn’t a road…this is a track!”
“Ok…call it what you wish, but it is the path that we will be following, it will take us straight to Feridell. Now, when we get there we will go straight to the most respectable tavern and get a room for the night. Feridell is a place full of trouble, so try to keep out of the way, we don’t want blood on our hands already.” Alzeon turned from where he was staring down the road, to look at both brothers as he spoke these last words.
“Alzeon, why would we get into trouble already? We only left Lanzareth yesterday. Both me and Aranel know that we need to get to Nareth as quickly as possible, so we both know that keeping out of the way is the best way to do that. Don’t worry so much Alzeon, remember what you told us earlier, think about the benefits when you get back, rather then what could go wrong now.” Elessar berated the older man.
“Aye lad, at least you listen to me” Alzeon smiled and turned to look back down the road, “come then, we should be there by night fall.”

Aranel shook his head and smiled, Alzeon was a likeable man, but the older brother was starting to get annoyed at how much Alzeon constantly berated the brothers. The younger brother ran his hand through his hair, and followed the other two. He sighed I hope we can get a bath in Feridell, my hair is getting greasy, and my skin feels like it needs a good rubbing down with a stick. Elessar grimaced and spoke to Aranel. “Reckon we could clean up in Feridell?”
“We better be able to” replied Aranel, “I’m not the cleanest person at the moment.” Aranel laughed at Elessar’s grimace, “Come brother, the faster we get to Feridell, the quicker we can get clean!” Saying this the older brother threw his horse into a gallop, and pulled away from the other two. Alzeon looked back at Elessar, eyebrow raised. Elessar laughed. “Just follow!” he called to Alzeon as he passed him, his horse also galloping now. “Boys” Alzeon commented with a smile. He squeezed his horse’s sides with his knees and the horse broke into a gallop. Alzeon wasn’t going to be the last to reach the town.


The trio was puffing and panting by the time the city came into view, Alzeon especially, his youth was leaving with every passing day, and his fitness with it, as he put on weight in his older years. They pulled up on the side of the road, as they didn’t want to block any of the few trade caravans that used this particular road. “Phew” Alzeon said as the companions slowed to a halt, “I haven’t been this worked up since I fought in a border war with the dwarves a decade or so ago, I suppose I just got used to the life style of a noble.” Alzeon smiled, “I suppose I’ll have to get used to this sort of ride again, with the time that we have.” He puffed out his cheeks in thought, which made Elessar smile as Alzeon looked rather ridiculous. “Ok, we’ll enter the city, and then we’ll decide what to do next” looking around, Alzeon headed back onto the road, and on towards Feridell.