TOTCR Book 3 The Beginning

TALES OF THE CRYSTAL REALM
BOOK THREE: THE BEGINNING

-1- AS GENERATIONS PASS...

Centuries ago, the Crystal Realm existed only in the pages of a worn old journal which once belonged to a man, they said, couldn't tell the difference between fantasy and reality. Or so they thought...
Mankind had changed over years and decades, technology had become so advanced that it was unnecessary for a man to do anything that wasn't simply at his leisure... As the years had passed, the Earth had become over-run by the technology humanity had worked so hard to create, and it was killing us...
Weapons had become simple tools and using them, detached from reality. Laser encryption had shifted the balance of power away from the conglomerates of old and the tool of choice was now a simple crystal. An obscure crystal... It could be many things and do many things... A computer, controller, databank, weapon... It was operated by thought waves transmitted through electrical impulses on touch. It is just such a crystal that started it all...
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
On the brink of the cataclysm, the owner of the journal, a scientist by his own right and the great grandson of its writer, found something wonderful. He and a handful of trusted friends worked together on the secret, they all believed it was possible. Crystal raised, they stood side by side, and there before them a tiny window opened, then widened, to frame a doorway.
On the other side, an expanse of blues and greens greeted them, a world of beauty so different from the world they lived in with its desolate barren acres of ash and the dust shrouded skies. It seemed to beckon them and together they stepped through.
For many days they explored the land, magnificent in its sheer wildness, ruled by magic and filled with creatures such as they had only dreamed: dragons, elves, goblins, fairies... And so the pact was made, the crystal was dashed against a stone and it broke into seven pieces. Each piece, a different color, was entrusted to a creature of magic and one to the people who had come, these new discoverers. The keepers of the crystals, to fulfil their duty, scattered themselves through the forces of magic across the vast worlds of distant suns. It was their sworn task to safeguard the doorway and the promise that technology, such as that which had destroyed the home world of the discoverers, would never again touch the hearts of any, who lived within the Crystal Realm.
As the years stretched forth in the Crystal Realm, the discoverers founded a thriving community in the forest of this land. The forest itself was magic and with each passing year and each passing generation, the descendants of the discoverers became infused with the magic of this world. Science and technology were left behind, they lived with the creatures of the forest as one.
Then He came, a source of evil magic and chaos. He wanted to rule over the realm and he enslaved the people. He took the goblins for his allies and led the people out of their forest home and built a stone city. The goblins stood guard at the edge of the forest to ensure that none of them return. Generations passed under his rule and the forest, they were told, was evil and forbidden to them, the few who dared venture near never returned for the goblins guarded well. And so those who dwelt in the city forgot the story of their ancestors, of their beginnings and the magic, which had been apart of them, weakened with the years and vanished.
But a few of their people had not been captured and had found friendship and shelter among the dragons and elves and had learned to harness the powers of magic as the forest strengthened them with each passing generation. And so the day came, when they sought out the Evil One and fought him and captured him, for to kill so great a force of evil would disturb the balance of nature throughout the realms.
They imprisoned him in a secret tomb and these few stayed in the forest as the named protectors of the realm, as would be their children and their children's children, to ensure he was never allowed to escape.
The dwellers of the city remained therein, still afraid of the forest and plagued by the goblins. Through generations, they founded a kingdom and a ruler and at his side were knights and a wielder of magic who had descended from one of the protectors that had remained within the city.
The King was Cryslan, the great wizard was Kaylen and the First Knight of the Kingdom of the Crystal Realm was Aidan Gavern. It is with these men that the story begins...

-2- THE AGE OF WAR
The white steed's hooves thrashed against the nothingness as her rider's hands firmly gripped the reigns. The beast seemed ghostly in the waning twilight, ethereal, with the wind blowing her thick white mane as mount and rider sped towards the castle turrets.
Spirit could feel the controlled tension in the man astride her. They had been together all their lives, were closer than any two beings could be. She could sense his moods no matter how subtle they be and right now he was not well pleased with the summons he had received but not so much so that he wasn't keenly interested in the cause.
Aidan slipped one hand from the reigns and let it smooth down the silken strands of Spirit's mane as the cold night air rushed against them. The gesture was meant, as much to reassure the horse's calm as to ensure his own.
"Damn Kaylen's hide for this!,' he thought as the wind shredded through the dark thick hair that reached almost to his shoulders, and his blue eyes flashed ice.
Twenty minutes earlier, he had been drawing the night to a satisfactory close at the Trelis. He'd made adequate winnings at a card game that ended shy of the bewitching hour and had settled himself down to a round of stiff drinks before persuading Miss Laurn to while away the morning hours in his bed.
Astride Spirit, he'd been reaching out a hand to pull the wench before him in the saddle, when a gust of wind had kicked up about the warhorse and with a gentle jolt, the horse raised off the ground and turned in the direction of the Crystal Palace. He'd muttered something vulgarly guttural as the bemused Miss Laurn smiled and he recovered his senses enough to direct his frustration and anger.
The castle turrets were an inch away and they landed smoothly atop the tower, where a lone form waited, cloaked in a dusky blue-grey hooded gown. A long silvering white beard hung down the front of the sorcerer's gown and grey eyes sparkled with laughter and wicked mockery against the twilight.
Kaylen could sense Aidan's boiling temper and could not help the roar of laughter he was unable to suppress. As he dismounted, letting Spirit's tether hang loose, confident in the knowledge the animal would die before deserting him, Aidan scowled severely at the old wizard, before walking forcefully forward.
"Damn you to hell, Kaylen! That's the fourth time this month. I'm getting a reputation with the wenches at Trelis for leaving a girl high and dry, thanks to you."
Kaylen's reply was laced with traces of laughter, "Come now Aidan, you had that reputation anyway. I swear man; you coined the phrase ' love 'em and leave 'em' since the days of your misspent youth."
Aidan grumbled and let out a disapproving 'Hmph!' before turning the conversation to the matter at hand.
"So what *was * so all-fired important it couldn't wait till morning?!"
Upon the asking, all lasting traces of mirth swept from Kaylen's features to be replaced by a broodingly worrisome expression.
Aidan sensed the change at once, and felt a chill in his bones. The situation had to be serious to warrant one of Kaylen's 'despairing' looks.
"Yes, yes... Cryslan is waiting in the throne room for us both."
They moved forward to make their way in haste, when Aidan gestured a nod over his shoulder to Spirit.
Kaylen nodded absently, "Yes, I'll see to that." He lifted his wrist over his shoulder and swiftly gestured a finger from the horse to the stable entrance in the courtyard below. The horse was instantly teleported to her private stall in the royal stable, where one of the handlers waited with a light meal.
Then Kaylen's mind cleared for a second of his burdensome thoughts as he muttered a dawning "Mmhmm," and swept his hand in a curve around himself and Aidan, teleporting them directly to the Throne room.
As they appeared, an impatient and concerned Cryslan raised off the throne swiftly and walked to them. He clasped Aidan's arm to his in greeting.
In response, Aidan bowed. "Majesty..." As first knight to the King, the greeting was more befitting his station, but the two men had grown together as close as brothers and had both endured under Kaylen's tutelage.
"The formality is unnecessary Aidan. We are friends and it is for this reason I have sought you out."
"As you command Cryslan, you know I would serve you to the end of my days. Tell me, what is it that worries you so...?," his gaze rested on Kaylen before returning to the King, "worries you both...?"
Cryslan looked about the room, unsure of how to begin. The great room had tall stone walls, with high stone ceilings, one wall had a large double door, and another held two long rows of bay windows, on either side of a stone fireplace, each draped in burgundy red fabric. The same cloth covered the entirety of a third wall and hid, inconspicuously, a doorway to the outer corridor of the King's bedchamber. The final wall was also draped in fabric but upon it rested the King's crest and beneath this, the throne.
The room seemed too small suddenly and Cryslan walked to the windows.
Aidan looked to Kaylen and then Cryslan before stepping forward and resting a hand on the King's shoulder.
"What is the wrong of it, Crys?" His tone was low and his voice gentle. No trace of anger or frustration was left in him, simply concern for the man he called friend, brother and King.
Cryslan turned back to face him. "We've received a declaration of war from Cevet of Wröndel..."
Aidan was, to say the least, confused, "But we've been expecting this Cryslan, the men are ready. We've prepared well for just this... I do not understand the cause for such worry..."
Cryslan looked at him, with unseeing eyes when he finally replied, "So we have... But they have something we did not plan for Aidan. They have my son!"
"What!" Aidan was shocked until the rage began to build "He was kidnapped?! Where is Querac!?" Aidan was at the door, in seconds, bellowing at the surprised guards right outside.
"Where is Querac?! Get the fool in here, now!"
‘Damn the man to Hades! His one duty was to protect the boy. Lincren is only fifteen, a mere child, who knows what the Wröndel scum will do to the child...' He'd see Cevet in hell for this treachery!
It was Kaylen who held his arm roughly and pulled him from the door, nodding something to the guards before they were again maintaining their posts.
"Kaylen?!" Aidan stared at him as though the wizard had finally gone stark raving mad.
It was Cryslan, who answered, though, in an acid tone.
"Querac can't help you Aidan though he can't be blamed. Querac, is dead, my friend. And Lincren, Aidan, Lincren wasn't taken away by Wröndel's horde; Lincren killed him and went with them, willingly." The last word was uttered with such disgust that it seemed as though the foul taste of it would never be overshadowed.
"What?!" Aidan staggered on his feet. The words as a painful blow to his chest, he felt all the wind leave his body. The boy... He had been the closest thing to the son Aidan had never had, he ... Cryslan... had doted on him so... How could the child... What could have possessed the boy to... ‘Possessed! Yes!' Aidan grasped on that one thought and spun to Kaylen.
"Possessed! The boy must be possessed Kaylen, Wröndel ‘s dark sorcery, I know it!"
Kaylen looked at him, his expression one of sympathy, "Yes, it could be..."
But Aidan knew when he was being lied to, placated. "It isn't though is it, Kaylen," he sighed in defeat.
Kaylen looked at the two men before him, he was not that much their senior, but he had always loved them as he would sons.
"There is a possibility, very slight... But no, there were no traces of dark magic... Of any magic. And magic of the strength that it would require to force the boy to kill would have a distinct presence for some time after."
Aidan looked at the wall blankly, "Kill... Damn it all... The boy is too young to kill a deer... much less a man!"
Cryslan finally spoke again, in a far away voice, " Too young, Aidan? No, not at all. It seems my son isn't too young at all, but old enough to wage war, Aidan, war on his birthright, on the Crystal Realm!"
And as the words left him, Cryslan threw the declaration at the floor before him. Grasping it Aidan read, the text bore the seal of Wröndel and the Prince of the Crystal Realm.
Incomprehensibly, Aidan let the parchment fall in contempt and confusion, "The boy is mad..."
The door to the throne room suddenly swung inwards with a loud forceful tremor,
"Mad? Yes, I do believe that is truth. Mad with hatred! How I hate you simple, noble fools and your pretended honourable ideals."
Standing in the entrance to the room, was none other than Lincren Cristelyr.
"Hello father. Seize them!"
Behind him emerged a group of armed Wröndel knights, swords drawn. The guards in the outer corridor were dead. For the first time, the Crystal Palace's halls were bathed in the blood of the innocent.
Lincren raised his sword to Aidan, a leering smile on his face, knowing that this man would never raise a sword to him. He touched the tip to Aidan's neck and pressed lightly, a thin sliver of blood trickled from the wound. Then he drew back the sword and lifted it to swing in a circular motion, to behead one of the men who had protected him all his life.
Aidan's eyes were filled with tears of sadness at the end. He saw the swinging motion begin and slowly let his eyelids drop from the tortured pain in his heart, from the hatred he saw in the boy's eyes.
A second, two, three, four and... nothing? His eyes slid open quickly. He was standing on the forest road, far outside the city, Kaylen and Cryslan stood beside him as did Spirit and the King's horse, Chaser.
Kaylen had teleported them all to safety. Aidan looked at the forest growth inches away. The Forbidden Forest... A place where none dared enter... Save fools! And *they * never returned to tell any tales.
"Interesting place you've spirited us to Kaylen. I assume your reasons do *not * include venturing into that woodland."
Kaylen shook his head, "No, I had the men move here as soon as we heard word of Lincren's treachery. I feared something like this would occur. If I'm not mistaken, we need only ride for ten minutes before coming upon the camp."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"They did just as you predicted, Lincren."
"I told you they would Cevet, I know my father and Kaylen well."
King Cevet of Wröndel, smiled in deference to the boy's words. He had proved useful after all. But once Cryslan and the sorcerer were out of the way, he would kill the boy. Too clever and cruel to be kept around, this one. For now though, he would let the boy feel he had the upper hand, Cevet was a patient man.
Lincren's blue eyes were alive as he envisioned the end to those old fools. He spun on the King.
"Have you got all in readiness, Cevet? Just as I instructed?"
"Yes, yes of course Lincren."
And he smiled at the boy, who smiled in return. Both of them hiding the blackness of their nature behind the simple gesture.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Precisely, ten minutes later, the three came to a stop at the edge of a vast expanse of green. The sun had begun to spatter the twilight with red, orange and gold flecks to signal the approaching dawn.
Aidan looked at Kaylen, what was going on, were they lost? He somehow didn't think Kaylen capable of such a thing.
"Where are they, Kaylen?"
Kaylen's grey eyes seemed clouded in mist, "They are just there, Aidan. A shield spell my friend, an added measure of protection."
Kaylen raised his hands as he sat behind Aidan alight Spirit.
"Omnipetus vicertu, Omnipetus veratu. Give sight to unseeing eyes."
Then, Aidan's vision cleared and became acute and he saw the Crystal Army scattered along the vast expanse, in regiments.
Two men were already waiting by their horses for them to alight.
Kaylen answered Aidan's questioning expression, the corner of his mouth turned up in a quirky half-smile, "They could see us, but we could not see them. Handy spell, that!"
Aidan shook his head in exasperation, "Sorcerers! So why didn't you just teleport us here, Kaylen. Why the ten minute ride?"
"Magic is traceable, Aidan. Haven't I taught you that before? A trained sorcerer would be able to tell precisely where we had teleported to and the Prince's magic studies have been progressing much further than yours and Cryslan's ever did, to be sure. Our path can be brushed away from the earth much more effectively than the trail marked by magic."
Aidan and Cryslan nodded and walked towards the main tent nearby. Captain Jenova, Aidan's second and the captain of each regiment stood at the opening to the tent in welcome.
As the King approached, they all bowed, "Sire..."
Cryslan and Aidan quickly entered the structure, followed by the men. Kaylen came in moments later after having instructed the two men who had met their horses to see to it that the trail was swept away.
As he entered, the King was speaking,
"We have been called out by our enemies, men. Wröndel has sent us a declaration of war and a messenger of death. The Palace guards were slain and your captain and myself would be dead were it not for Kaylen's sorcery."
Cryslan stopped; he glanced at Aidan and then Kaylen, who nodded,
" And this is not the worst of the treachery for it seems that we have been betrayed by one of our own. Prince Lincren led the men who slaughtered the Palace guards. He has joined with King Cevet and is intent upon the murder of myself, Kaylen and your captain."
A loud murmuring began in the tent as all took in these recent shocking developments.
They were about to wage war on Wröndel and on the successor to their throne, the child Prince of the Crystal Realm. It was the dawning of an age of war that none had ever known.

-3- THE FORBIDDEN FOREST
Uncertain how to proceed and looking older than his years, Cryslan left the men to their murmurs in the tent. Aidan had come to him, and he knew he could trust the details of battle to his friend.
He felt tired as the morning came to an end, as though all the strength had been ripped from his limbs. Standing in front of the mirror in his tent, he looked up at his own reflection...
He had been taught all his life, that you could measure a man's worth by his deeds and by his children's. If that were true, he had been found sorely wanting, for his own blood, the light of his years since the death of his young wife, had betrayed him.
He felt the grief to the core of his soul, his son wanted him dead. God! What kind of father had he been to the boy! For he knew he could place the blame for this treachery at the no one's feet but his own. He sat back heavily on a nearby stool, bent over, his head resting in his propped hands. He seemed to be adrift without an anchor and tossed from side to side as his world churned about him. He had lost hope... He felt his life slipping from his grasp.
Then suddenly he was caught and held fast, being pulled back from the edge of this unknown precipice. He lifted his head and looked into Aidan's eyes; the knight was knelt before him, with the glistening of moisture in his eyes.
Aidan's hand gripped his shoulder tightly, as he shook away the feelings clouding his mind, before he spoke," Stop blaming yourself for this Crys, it is not something any of us could have foreseen. Whatever is the matter with the boy, he has hidden it deep inside himself, it is nothing you have done to cause nor is there anything we can seemingly do at this moment to change it. So for now we play the cards we've been dealt and all things considered Crys, between you, myself and Kaylen, there's no game we can't win. We'll learn what's gone wrong with the boy, and I swear to you we will get him back if there is even a glimmer of possibility to the endeavour."
Aidan stopped for a few moments, and gazed to the flaps of the tent, "For now, your men need their King to guide them through this chaos. And I will not allow you to give up on this world so long as I am in it!"
The last words were edged with a harsh determination that caught at the edges of Cryslan's thoughts and dragged him back to the necessities of the moment. He rose, Aidan standing by his side, and together they walked out of the tent, into the bright midday sun.
Aidan glimpsed Kaylen's nod of approval as he strolled beside the King to the waiting group of soldiers beyond the tent.
Kaylen sensed it first, a subtle shifting of the winds, and then they were flung as a wave of burning inferno lashed through the throng. It was the most intense, destructive force Kaylen had ever felt. He hesitated at the suddenness of it all for mere seconds, long enough to see the men around him struck down, screaming in terror as their flesh turned to ash, their bones melded together and they were no longer able to go on. He recovered in time to throw a magical netted shield to cover those close enough, at least those who were not yet beyond all hope. The King was within the shielding, but as Kaylen's gaze was drawn beyond his friend, he saw that Aidan was not.
Faithfulness and loyalty were Aidan's strongest qualities, and they had served him honourably. He would never forget a friend in trouble, even if that friend were his own mount.
He'd glimpsed Spirit's frightened furore as the blaze had begun and had without thought rushed to the aid of his trusted companion. He knew Kaylen would protect the King far better than he could, for he could sense the magic, it was so powerful, even his poorly developed skills could fathom its depth.
He raced to the horse, unwrapping his reins with lightning speed, feeling the heat at his back. Instinct urged him to throw himself into the saddle and together, they fled, running from the flames as it threatened to envelop them. They rode on, the inferno following them unrepentantly, before long Aidan had lost all track of his direction, he was simply forcing his way against the tide, to save his own life. The flames neared, and with the intensity of the heat he slipped into unconsciousness on the back of a white Spirit racing the wind.
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When Aidan regained consciousness, he was on his back and the world was black. He could barely see his own limbs well enough to, still dazed, lever himself to a sitting position. He heard the cracking of twigs beneath his feet as he stood and looked about him in a startled dawning of understanding.
He recalled where he had been, what had occurred during the waking hours of this day, recalled in retrospect the direction Spirit had taken as the flames licked at her hooves. He knew where he was and the knowing filled him with a sense of dread... He looked anew at the darkness around him, wondering if it was truly night or day, if the trees themselves threw back the light, never allowing it to desecrate their sacred untouched world...
‘The Forbidden Forest! Dammit all!' and the only thought that he seemed able to hold onto with any degree of success was, ‘How in God's name do I get *out* of here!'
He looked up at the sky that wasn't there and felt the menace of the leaves as they began a moaning chant of rustling, warning the creatures of the forest that there was an invader in their midst!
Aidan felt a sense of terror grip him as he felt for his sword or bow only to find that he had no weapons on his person... He was facing a land that by legend only destroyed those who dared to enter and he had nothing but his hands and his wits to defend himself.
"Damn your hide Kaylen, whenever you encroach on the start of my day, they always just go from bad to worse as the moments lapse!"
He uttered the words to the darkness, as much to calm himself as to release the anger at the turn of events, but no sooner had the words been spoken, than he found he had an audience... And from the look of it, he was the captive...
He tossed his head back, and laughed, the sound was arrogant and derisive at the same time. He looked at his foes, before moving into a defensive stance, then with a swift cursory look about him, he smiled and spoke with a hint of a sneer in his voice, "Dinner Anyone?"
They were the last words he spoke before the creatures attacked.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The wywolves circled their prey, testing the creature for response, slowly seeking out and sensing his feelings, guided by a magic of their own. He was afraid. It was mild but it was there, the creature was defenceless and they were hungry.
The leader of the pack, a blue-grey horned giant of a wolf, snarled, teeth flashing, his gaze coveting the tasty morsel that had long been denied his brethren. Thinking of the tender flesh that he had not tasted in decades, which once had been daily fed to his clan whilst his master ruled, he lunged forward, intent on tearing flesh from bone, intent on bathing in this creature's blood.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
As the leader of the horned beasts threw him to the ground, Aidan twisted his form and escaped the wolf's hold.
The others in the pack took his movement as their cue to attack as one. Aidan pushed himself backward as they stalked towards him, howling, snarling. He felt a thick branch beneath his hand, grasping it tightly; he pushed himself to his feet as the leader raged towards him, jaws wide, thick growls causing the skin around his teeth to draw back tightly, revealing the reddened bruised flesh above sharp white fangs.
Aidan hit out at the creature, knocking its snout away from sinking into his arm. The wolf barely felt the blow; rather it seemed incensed at the very attempt to thwart its goals.
Somehow Aidan knew, that if he did not move, did not find shelter, it would be the end. These creatures were filled, hewn somehow, of an evil magic that he could not counter with weapons natural or man-made.
He silently prayed for God's grace as he fled the clearing, the wywolves at his heels. He had no idea how fast he moved or how far, when he felt the tearing of flesh and cloth. He felt the blood ooze from his wounds, soaking his back.
They were too close, 'Too close! Dammit! Too close!' Unsheathed claws raked his arm, tearing the sleeve of his tunic to shreds, but he kept on running, aware only of the sound of being hunted. But the loss of blood soon caught up to him and his pace began to slow as his limbs grew tired and numb. He closed his eyes as his legs pushed on through the dense foliage, taking a laboured breath.
Then he felt something grasping at his wounded arm. He yelled in pain and whipped his head in the direction of the new source of attack, fearing all was lost, only to look upon a pale face, human, beautiful even with the unfriendly scowl so blatantly apparent. But the quick movement of his head proved too much and he felt the blackness close in as he crumpled under his own weight, his last thoughts were that, 'There is an angel in this cursed Forest...Perhaps it's come to ensure I rot in hell...'
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Celen Riel looked down at the crumpled heap before her in disgust. '"Weakling!" She had heard tales in her childhood of the outsiders. Her people had never ventured outside of the confines of the Forbidden Forest, for it was against their duty. But she had seen visions of them, during her studies of the past, during her training.
They were weak-minded fools, who had forgotten their birthright, who had lost their history and who feared things they simply did not understand. They killed, waged wars, as though material things, hewn by their hands were most important. They fought for dominion over each other, kept safe from the true evils that abounded by those they knew nothing of.
She supposed, looking down once more, that she could not leave the man there, the wywolves would obviously return for him, not that she cared, but it was her duty as protector... So with a swift glance at the body at her feet, she drew her hands above her head, crossing the gauntlets at her wrist, her ice blue hair began to flutter in the windless darkness and soon she was enveloped by a warm blue aura. She opened her eyes and spoke, letting her hands drop to her sides,
"Riel'nac gaard!" The man's form lifted off the floor and with a slight tilting of her head, they were teleported to the lower chamber of the sacred tower where she slept, ate, trained, read. It was her place of peace, but no more, for his very presence defiled it!
Letting the man's form rest on the softness of her bed, she placed her hands above his wounds, whispering enchantments, using only the veriest taste of her power to heal the man.
Her ministrations complete, she moved to the nearby table to have her meal. She had been about to partake the food when his presence had been announced by the forest walls. The Sacred Tower lay at the heart of the Forbidden Forest, hidden by magical cloak spells from the eyes of any save those with the knowledge to enter. It was where her people had resided since the beginning of their days, the upper chambers filled with testaments and scrolls of knowledge, of history and magic.
It was a place of great power, sparse for its severe stone walls and sole solid oak doorway and there were no stairs to the upper chambers, for it held things only practitioners of the magic would have need of. The lower chamber itself held only the makeshift bed, a wooden table, two stools, a candle held in a tin plate and an array of metal weapons, each hewn with a measure of magic adorning one wall. The remainder of the room's walls were sparse, but for an old map, drawn on parchment decades ago, detailing the hidden depths of the Forbidden Forest in all its magical glory. It was set on the stone slabs above the table.
The man moaned as he shifted slightly, but did not awake. She glanced at him as the sound escaped him and her gaze stayed until he drifted off into a deep slumber once more. He would waken soon, she supposed, then she would have the answers she sought and she would be able to rid herself of his burdensome presence.
It was almost an hour later, and she sat beside him on the bed, peering at his face as he slowly left the veil of sleep.
Opening his eyes, Aidan saw the glorious creature, whose face seemed to hover above him. Finding nothing amiss, save he couldn't recall the wench's name, though that had occurred before, Aidan sneaked his hand about her neck, pulling her face down and sealing his lips to hers. She tasted like honey, he decided, quite sure he had never held such a woman before, and that he wanted more. He tilted his head to deepen the kiss when he felt a searing pain in his temples. Her fingertip pressing lightly to his forehead seemed to emanate a sharp, drilling pain into the core of his skull. He let her go, finding her staring at him distastefully, as he rubbed his temples with his fingers in an effort to alleviate the pain.
As it subsided, he began to notice the very unfamiliar room and then his gaze moved back to her...'Well Dammit all! It was his angel!' He'd dreamt her as he slept and now he remembered the wolves and when he had turned to glimpse her form he'd seen several dead horned-beasts behind her, the rest having fled in fear. Given her dour expression, he wasn't certain if she'd simply chased them with a mere look. He noticed his clothes, still bloodied, but the wounds were gone, he glanced at her in surprise, she'd obviously healed him.
Aidan saw her waiting brooding expression and knew she expected him to apologise. He knew he'd been rude, though he'd never regret that kiss, even if he'd vehemently deny that to her, in order that he may save having his head permanently seared with pain. He knew she'd used magic on him, he wasn't that much of a fool and he was not in the habit of offending sorceresses, even if this one seemed to have bewitched him with a kiss.
He rose, and bowed, "I beg your pardon, milady, I fear I have let my dreams run away with me. I pray you forgive my offence."
She did not even acknowledge his words, but merely sat there, like stone. He tried again, " I am Aidan Gavern, First Knight to King Cryslan, and who may you be, milady?"

-4- GUARDIAN... PROTECTOR...
Some twenty years earlier...
A chill wind swept through the trees, almost a whisper from their unseen lips. Dark bows swayed and bent, looming across overgrown pathways, trodden by few. For all the guise and deception that had created its name, the forest had become a forbidding place as centuries crept by, an untamed wilderness, unrecognizable to the hearts of men save those who understood the pain of loneliness.
A thousand years ago, perhaps more, the innate magic and power of this realm had accepted those who fled their lost world. It had sustained them, opened its hearts to them, given them a new home in an ancient world which had no reason to look upon them with such favour. But destiny had severed the bond, and the saviour of a race of men had become their enemy... How quickly and easily mankind forgets the gifts bestowed upon them... How easily they scorn that which they do not understand.
Cold blue flames gazed upon the rustling leaves, sadness and anger hidden in their depths. Those who resided beyond this forest were weak, fools undeserving of the protection by those who had sworn their destiny to just this folly... But duty was her master and with a last look at the dense haven about her which had sustained her all her days, Celen turned and made her way back to the tower city.
Six hundred years ago, her ancestors, the ancient ones, had delivered those men who lived beyond, from an age of darkness and had returned to the forest which they called home. A forest, the outsiders called cursed and had named "Forbidden". A forest that had given them all life.
The centuries her people spent in the forest had treated them well. They had, with each generation, been imbued with great magical powers, drawn from their lives spent among the powerful forces that sustained the forest. They were stronger and more keenly attuned to the happenings of the Crystal Realm; such was their gift from the world that they shepherded.
In the depths of the forest they had built a tower city, undetectable by man and by all but the most powerful of magical beings, and completely invulnerable to attack, hidden by magical mists and enchantments of many sorts. Only those of the Ancient's bloodline knew the secrets to enter its walls.
As Celen drew closer, the mists parted and she stepped into the lower regions of the tower. It was a depressing place in many ways, save to those who knew its hidden secrets. There were no visible stairways to upper floors, no apparent rooms, looking to be naught more than an empty shell. Imbued though, as it was, with magic, it was a gateway to lavish abodes, halls of learning and entertainments, vast kitchens, well equipped fighting chambers and an expansive garden. Such a large tower community, once serving almost a thousand Ancient ones, now inhabited by only two, an ailing warrior of two hundred years and a slip of a girl destined for greatness at ten.
As she entered the tower through its sole doorway she opened her mind, scanning the seemingly endless corridors of magic. She smiled then and with a whisper of movement, teleported to her mentor's side.
Kuirel stood nearby tending the delphiniums, a lavish flower, entrusted to the care of the Ancients years before by a sorceress of the Moon who had come to aid them in their hour of need. He remembered her well, silver eyes and silver hair, he had come to care for her deeply in their time together, but when that time came to its end, he had chosen his duty and remained Guardian... Protector.
He magicked the glass water pitcher before Celen, in acknowledgement of her arrival, never turning from his task to face her. Celen stuck her tongue at Kuirel, before taking the pitcher from its place hovering before her. She then began to water the flowers systematically. They stayed this way in silence for some minutes, before Celen could hold her own counsel no longer; she placed the pitcher on a large rock nearby and lifted herself onto it, regarding Kuirel as he continued to prune the delphis.
"Kuirel, I still don't understand why you won't use magic to do these tasks, would it not be faster?"
Kuirel nodded but did not look at her, "Aye t'would be faster for me true, but t'would not be what is needed for this plant to live well. Tending this garden requires not only the task, but the patience and care that accompanies it. It is the time spent with them that creates the harmony needed for them to bloom full."
Celen listened but still the essence of his comment escaped her, "Do you mean then that our magic would be inadequate to complete the tasks?"
Kuirel smiled, "No child, our magic is never inadequate, tis always sufficient as is all magic, it is neither too much nor too little, it is simply what is necessary. What I mean, Celen of Riel is that tending this garden is not simply the tasks performed but the motivations and emotions which accompany it. It is a matter of not only the actions to sustain life but the bonds that give it purpose. This garden needs more to live than sustenance and safety; it needs the magic of relation with others to give it reason. Life is based on a web of interwoven threads, barely seen or understood, but necessary for support."
Celen thought on what Kuirel had said for a moment, "So you are saying then that magic is more than sorcery, that everything is a form of magic in its own way, be it action, thought or feeling or the absence of these."
Kuirel smiled broadly at her, finally looking up at her thoughtful expression, "Precisely. 'Magical be life and life be magic'."
Celen nodded, a light of dawning understanding in her eyes, these words were ones of greeting used by her people for as long as she could remember, a truly profound idea, spoken so lightly and influencing so greatly the reality of each moment.
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It was with the dawning of this understanding that Celen's training began in earnest. Kuirel taught to harness the not only her magic but the magic that resided in all things and to use her own magic to strengthen her bond with the creatures of the forest, until she began to truly understand the language of the trees. The gentle whispers of branches to leaves and petals as they swayed in the windless depths of the forest, a symphony of peace and harmony, marred only once in her lifetime, by a shrieking echo of intense grief that awakened her one late night, from the confines of the Sacred Tower.
As she shook away the haze of sleep from her mind, the cacophony of screams intensified from the forest. Somewhere out the, some evil was working such horror to create soul deep grief in the trees themselves.
Clad in her tunic and bracelets only, she ran into the darkness, following the wailing groans around her. Soon she found herself at a clearing she knew well in the forest centre, and a scream of pure agony escaped her lips as she fell to her knees beside the bloodied form of her friend and mentor.
"Kuirel! Oh Master Kuirel, what has happened? Tell me what I must do. Please do not leave me." But even as she spoke the words to perform the most powerful of healing spells, his hand clasped in hers, she knew that his life force was already gone.
"Be calm child, it is my time, true I would have preferred to leave this world dispatched by some other creature than a wywolf but such is my fate. I ask only that you fulfil your legacy Celen of Riel, last protector and guardian. Keep to you duty child and be well until we meet once more in the realm beyond."
"I give thee my word, master. I will stay true to your teachings and protect this realm with my every breath."
Kuirel's hand slipped from her grasp then and his life force passed on. The grief and sadness was too much to bear, the loneliness quickened in her soul and tears pricked her eyes for the first time in her life. She slips from her position on her knees unto the floor sobbing as the trees all around her, wailed in their own grief for the lost of their friend and shepherd.
Suddenly the wails died down, and Celen's senses alerted to the faint growls nearby. She rolled to her feet just as a wywolf pack charged her from the undergrowth nearby. She used her magic to shield herself and watched still in a state of shock as they raged around her, clawing at the magical shield around her. The shield would only last so long, she knew and if she teleported they would also, tracking her to her new location using the magical trail left behind. She forced her mind to think, she had come without weapons, only her bracelets were in hand. She quickly drew her wrists together and transformed her bracelets, revealing the shining crystal blue shurikens which now adorned the bands. She was however, still surrounded.
She needed a strategy, quickly she cast a sleep spell on the beasts, but with no response, their ravenous hunger was too deep for the spell to penetrate. Quickly she used a simple levitation spell and shot herself high up in the air and propelled herself onto a nearby tree branch. Standing on the branch she looked down to see the wywolves had began clawing their way up the tree, growling madly in outrage as their prey tried to evade them. Her scattered thoughts searched out a spell to get her out of here, but she was assailed by a hideous sight as her gaze touched on Kuirel's form, three of the wolves had began ripping his flesh from the bone.
It was all suddenly too much for her and the anger and grief forged into a rage beyond any emotion she had ever felt, eyes darkening and filling with hate, she leapt from the tree branch to Kuirel's body, several shuriken burying themselves into the sides of the wolves which had been defiling him. They were cowering from their wounds within seconds and she levitated Kuirel gently from the site of the killing, before turning to the others who now prowled carefully around her, she; the one that had harmed their brethren. Killing of any magical creature went against all she had been taught and Celen felt her mind reject the sight of the bloodied beasts she had wounded, but her heart was not yet appeased by the terrible wrongs they had wrought this night.
"I recognise your magic no longer, beasts, you are not worthy of my protection, lest I see you, your numbers will diminish for I shall slay you all if I must."
In that moment, Celen tapped into the darkest part of the ancient magic and whispered, "Flames of Riel, awaken and eliminate my prey. Riel'Pyr Draconis!" Bracelets together, blue flames shot out, in balls of mist which touched the nearest beasts and tortured the wywolves slowly peeling away each layer of their bodies as they howled in pain. The others nearby, terrified at the sounds of their dying kin, fled howling in their grief, into the darkness.
When the blue flames had burnt away the bodies of all the murderous creatures, Celen slowly fell to her knees and wept at the darkness that she had unleashed, the dark magic that lay hidden within her. As her sobs abated, she felt a change in the feeling of the trees nearby, they no longer spoke to her freely, she had killed and now they feared her.
Truly alone, Celen, last of the ancients and newly fifteen years old, teleported Kuirel and herself back to the Tower and buried her mentor in the garden he loved.
Only as she sought out the sleep which evaded her the next night, did the thought come to her that Kuirel had not been attacked in the clearing that night, he had teleported there and the wywolves had tracked him. If that were the case, the question remained unanswered, just what had happened to Kuirel that night? Why had he left the Tower in the dark night without awakening her, and where had he gone to and what had he been doing when the wywolves attacked him.
It was a little over fifteen years later before she found the answer to those questions and it all began with an arrogant silver-tongued outsider who called himself Aidan Gavern.