SALVATION FOR THE FALLEN Chapter 12

Finn, Deamon and Larien were at the Council Chambers and setting up for the upcoming meeting. The couriers had been dispatched to both King Sylvain and Zigaroth. While she had been at the tavern, Larien had spoken with both Susana and Caro to let them know of their possible presence at the council meeting. As Larien laid out her parchments, she thought of how she would approach the subject of the upcoming battle. She already knew that there might be friction between Zigaroth and Deamon, as each man barely tolerated the other. Ever since the banishment of Bone Face and Deamon666 to Freedomia, Deamon was barely civil to Zigaroth. She really couldn’t blame him. He felt betrayed by the battlemage when he cast his final vote in favor of the banishment of the twins. That was long before she was on the Angels’ Council. At the time of the Council’s decree, it comprised of King Sylvain; Zigaroth; Kelan, Duke of Morridin; King Farren Arcamenel; Egemen of the Dwarven Council; Kewel the Blacksmith; and Fëanáro Sáralondë. The vote had been split with those in favor of the twin’s exile being King Sylvain, Kelan, and Egemen and those against being King Farren, Kewel, and Fëanáro. The tie breaking vote was cast by Zigaroth and he voted in favor. Deamon never seemed to accept the verdict or the person who cast the deciding vote. He never questioned Zigaroth as to why he voted the way he did. To Deamon, it was just a slap in the face for his brothers and himself and gave him the feeling that they really didn’t belong to the Angels. That was one of the leading reasons that he became the Master of Whispers.

Larien looked up from what she was doing as Tuls walked into the chambers with King Sylvain. The men were talking quietly together as they entered. They stopped as they saw the others already there.

King Sylvain spoke first, saying, “Hello everyone. While I wish this meeting was under different circumstances, I am glad to see you all here. Finn, it has been a long time, my friend.” Sylvain held out his hand to Finn and slapped him on the back after the hand shake. “You remember Tuls, don’t you?”

Finn replied, “Hello King Sylvain. Yes, Tuls and I saw each other just last month in the woods.” Finn took Tuls extended arm as he continued, “How are you my friend?”

Tuls cleared his throat. “We are fine. However, I feel that is about to change after the news from the messenger you sent over, Finn.”

“Yes, well, I believe that Larien and Deamon have some interesting news to share with the Council. I think that we will be able to start as soon as Carl arrives from the tavern and Zigaroth gets here from wherever he has been hiding We had half expected him to be at the tavern tonight.” Finn folded his arms across his chest and continued, “I think I hear Carl coming now.”

Sure enough, Carl’s boots were soon heard on the stone steps as he approached the door. He nodded first to Sylvain and then to the others as he walked over to where the men stood. Larien was still at the front of the room and Deamon was leaning against the wall under the window closest to where she worked. As Carl was making his greetings with the King and Tuls, Zigaroth came striding into the room, his white hair a bit messed and his robes flaring out behind him from his haste to get to the chambers. His voice was loud and commanding. “Hello everyone. I am sorry I am so late. Let us all sit down so we can understand why this meeting was called.” His piercing eyes looked at each person in the room as all took their appointed seats around the oval table - all but Deamon who continued to stay where he was against the wall. Deamon preferred to be able to see each person’s face when Larien started talking.

There was a little niggling in his gut that gave him pause that someone in this very room could actually have a hand in the potential death of his queen. He tried to keep his thoughts sheltered so Finn would not be able to read him. He had a lot of practice with Larien over the years that he hoped might also work with her brother. He didn’t want to reveal more than he needed to and only when he was ready to do so!

Larien looked small as she stood in front of the Council members, her parchment papers strewn in front of her. She looked up and spoke quietly, “Gentlemen, thank you for coming here tonight. I have grave news to share and we will need to discuss our plans regarding our course of action. Please hear me out before you ask questions.”

She looked at each in turn and all seemed alright with her request. Larien continued, “Our Master of Whispers, Deamon, informed me earlier this evening that we have several armies advancing on our Castle. They are coming from the south, east and west. All three armies also have orcs amongst their soldiers.” Larien paused so that each man could absorb the impact that the news gave. “I had hoped that we would be able to meet them on the plains but that will not work. They are much too close. According to Deamon, they will be here in just a few short days. Therefore, this does not give us much time for planning; hence, the meeting tonight rather than on the morrow.”

King Sylvain spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully, “So, you are telling us that we will have to battle all three armies here on the castle grounds at the Angels’ Keep?”

Larien looked down at her trembling hands and then up at the men, “Yes, that is what I am saying.” She took a deep breath before continuing, “I have thought long and hard about this ever since Deamon brought it to my attention. I have been looking at the old plans of the castle and the areas around it. I do not think we can get away with any other course of action, Sire.”

The King sat with his fingertips touching and his chin resting on this thumbs. Larien saw him close his eyes. His body was still as he sat and thought about all she had said thus far. Zigaroth sat in his chair with his face raised to the gods, his hand absent-mindedly caressing the jewel at the top of his staff. Tuls was fingering his beard, pulling it and twisting it around his finger. It looked as if his thoughts were also twisting inside his mind in time with his fingers. Carl’s arms were crossed and Larien could see his fingers tapping his arm in keeping with whatever thoughts he might have had to her news. Finn just sat there, not moving his body, but Larien saw that his eyes moved from one man to another. She suspected that he was trying to read their thoughts. Larien glanced quickly over to where Deamon still stood. He had not moved since the meeting first started. Deamon seemed to be like her cat, Sapphire, who wanted to be a part of what was going on around her, but kept herself apart from everyone else. Larien also noticed Deamon’s eyes as they traveled from one man to the next, waiting and watching to see what transpired. He seemed ready to anticipate each man’s response to the news. His stance was loose but Larien knew that he was at the ready for anything that might happen. She just prayed that they could get through the meeting before anything regrettable was done or said.

Carl spoke up, “Larien, I take it that you have some ideas for this upcoming battle? I notice that you have the plans for the village and Keep lying on the table. What ideas have you brought us?”

Carl’s question jerked Larien’s thoughts back to the matter at hand. She picked up one of the drawings on the table. “We have not had to defend our walls in many, many decades. However, our forefathers prepared well for this day. I suggest that all of our women who are not fighters take the children and go into the underground chambers deep in the mountains. They have only to take the essentials with them – food, water, and clothing and then secure our cattle in the areas prepared for them. Tuls, maybe your people could look to make sure everything is safe in the mountain caves before we gather. All other items can stay in their homes. If they are damaged by the invaders, then we will just replace them as needed. There is plenty of room in the mountain caverns to accommodate both our people and our livestock for a long while quite comfortably.” Larien continued as she saw the nodding of heads around the table.

Larien placed the map in the middle of the table and secured the curling corners with heavy stones. Pointing to several locations on the map, she continued, “Next, I suggest that we inspect and prepare the pits. We have about two dozen placed between the Castle’s two outer-most walls. We need to inspect these pits and take inventory of their condition. Please Carl, if you and your men would do the inspection at first light and give me your recommendations immediately, which will give us an idea where we stand. I have already alerted Caro that she may need to make some additional spikes, especially since orcs will be among the invading armies. She said that she and Cat would be ready to fire the bellows as soon as word is given. Tuls and Finn, we may have need of your blacksmiths as well if the number is too large for Caro to handle alone and since we are up against a massive time constraint. Will that be alright?” Both men nodded their heads in agreement.

Carl questioned, “Do you want me to keep the pits open after we do our count?”

“Not unless the women and children are already safely away from the area. We do not want anyone accidentally falling into the pits. They are reserved for our incoming guests, not our own Angels.” Several smiled at Larien’s last comment and broke a bit of the tension that all were feeling. “I know that it will be extra work having to go back over them but it will be the safest. If you have several crews working together, it will cut your time down considerably. And, as you know, time is critical at the moment.” Larien finished her presentation with, “So, my friends, what do you think? Will this work along with our catapults and warriors?”

The men around the table stood to have a better look at Larien’s maps. They started talking amongst themselves, fingers pointing and comments made accordingly. Zigaroth moved away from those crowded around Larien, walking slowly, deep in thought. He stopped across the room from where Deamon stood resting against the wall. Deamon slowly drew away from the wall and, after looking over at the small group at the table, walked to the other side of the room. Zigaroth looked up from his contemplation.

Deamon acknowledged the old battlemage, “Zigaroth.”

“Deamon,” was his reply. “You want to speak with me?”

“Yes, old man, I do. I find myself needing your assistance. I have further knowledge about this battle than I shared with Larien. There is only one other that knows of this and that is Finn.”

“Finn knows of something more? Why have you not told Larien?” Zigaroth quizzed Deamon.

“I do not want her to be aware of this bit of news. And, I only come to you because I may have need of your eyes, ears and knowledge.” Zigaroth took out his pipe and lit it with a flick of his fingers. He took a few puffs waiting for Deamon to continue. “My informant also told me that there is a high commander in one of the advancing armies that is planning on killing Larien. That MUST not happen!! Furthermore, we do not have his name so I cannot send my assassins to take care of him.”

Zigaroth pointed the pipe at Deamon and asked, “You are sure of this?”

“Don't you think I would make sure of this detail? Yes. His orders have been given that no one but him will be allowed to ‘touch’ the Elf Queen. It will be his pleasure to kill her. Zigaroth, I know that we have not seen eye-to-eye over many things in the past several hundred years, but I take the Queen’s safety very personally and very seriously. My informant has always given me accurate information so I must treat this the same way.” Deamon’s voice became more intense as he continued talking. “Someone is going to try to kill her. I need to know either how someone could succeed or what form of protection she is under.”

Zigaroth leaned heavily against his mage stick, his fingers grasping the crystal in the top hard. Deamon noticed the whitened knuckles of his right hand. He also noticed that the battlemage’s shoulders hunched over ever so slightly. If Deamon didn’t know any better, Zigaroth looked like he had been hit in his stomach. Zigaroth’s furrowed brow brought his white bushy eyebrows closer together. He removed his pipe with his left hand before speaking to Deamon in a low and controlled voice. “I am sorry but I cannot tell you what you seek. As the protector of all the Angels, and especially regarding Larien herself, I cannot divulge that information to you. If she chooses to tell you, that is her choice. It cannot be mine.”

Deamon’s eyes blazed, flashing piercing ice blue danger warnings as he stepped menacingly closer towards the old man, “Are you saying that you will NOT help me protect her? Are you implying that I would put her in harm’s way should I know this information? That I would actually do that to Larien? That I would do that to someone I love? Maudit!!!! You are a fool!!”

Zigaroth held out his hand to the advancing man as if that slight gesture alone could stop him and help him see reason. “Mark, please stop and listen to me.”

Deamon’s raised voice brought the eyes of the others in the room to where he and Zigaroth were talking. “Do not ever call me that name again, old man." His voice continued in controlled fury, "You lost that right a long time ago when you sent my brothers away from here, away from the Angels, away from me! I am now the Master of Whispers and feared by many. Since you will not help me, mark my words, do NOT get in my way of what I will have to do. You know better than most what I am capable of doing!” As Deamon turned to walk away from Zigaroth, he looked contemptuously at the battlemage and spat at him. Deamon delivered his last remark with venom dripping from his words, “Remember, Battlemage, I will do whatever it takes!!”

As Deamon strode from the room, all eyes watched his departure; all wondered what had made him so angry and were totally shocked and surprised with his parting remark. Only Zigaroth was left with shadowed eyes and fear in his heart – for Larien, for the Angels, and yes, even for Deamon.

created originally 7 September 2011

SALVATION FOR THE FALLEN Chapter 8

Larien Arcamenel was enjoying the day out in her garden. The days were getting warmer and she had to clear out the old debris to make way for the new sprouts and plantings. She always enjoyed puttering about in her garden. Larien knew that her body would rebel against the strain that she would put on it by pulling weeds and planting, but to see the new beds with green growth was worth it to her. She was already thinking ahead to when the perfume from the flowers would permeate the soft summer breezes and warm nights with their heady fragrances. The herbs would be used for her Angels to heal and help keep them healthy. The vegetables always tasted better fresh from the garden than purchased in the marketplace. If her crops were plentiful, Larien would be able to give those to her neighbors in need or take them to the tavern for Earnest and Carl to use. She gathered her baskets and gardening tools from the planting shed and looked over the garden area to decide where she should start first: flowers, vegetables, or herbs.

As Larien started working in the herb beds, she let her mind drift back to earlier days and the celebration the Angels had at the Diova Gruss. The Angels had been excited about beating Corvintheus and his army. She felt saddened that she had to be the one to tell them the true nature of the battle and the real reason that Corvintheus was fighting in the first place. Although she knew that Corvintheus brought this sorrow to her friends by his righteous greed and impatience, she still felt responsible for having to be the one to possibly change their thoughts about him as a demi-god.

Why would Corvintheus fall so far from grace, from the demi-god that all knew or thought him to be? Larien had a problem trying to figure out the difference between what she knew of the demi-gods and what she saw take place on the battlefield. The demi-god Corvintheus is about protection, courage and honor. He watches over those who uphold his virtues and pay blessings honoring him. Knights and paladins religiously believe in his teachings and follow him devoutly. By following him, the knights express a belief in chivalry and spending their lives protecting those around them with their strength, both through their battles and by their will. Corvintheus teaches that the “Road of the Warrior” is filled with many difficult choices which define the course of one’s development. It is important that they understand the ways of the world so they can guard themselves from false temptation. False temptations! It seemed to Larien that he might be the one to fall into his OWN false temptations.

These thoughts were all going through Larien’s mind as she continued to pull weeds and turn the soil. One particularly hard, deep-rooted weed was resisting Larien’s attempts to free it from the herb bed. After digging deep and giving it another firm tug, Larien felt the weed explode out of the earth, sending dirt up into her face and onto her arms. While it startled her, it also brought back the memory of a picture in her mind – the flash of blinding white light on the battlefield! Corvintheus and Aurelius were both there fighting before the flash and both were gone after it. Larien tried to remember exactly what happened on that battlefield. Something was teasing her memory.

She sat back on her heels and closed her eyes, her hands resting on her knees, her body stilled and trance-like. She took herself back to that day on the battlefield. Larien felt the sun beating down on her skin, the weight of her healing bag over her shoulder, her clothes sticking to her body. She closed her eyes in anticipation of what else she would remember, her heartbeat increasing its tempo. She could smell the sweat from fighting soldiers and the stench of dead bodies slowly decaying on the ground around her. She heard the clash of metal sword blades hitting other blades, other weapons, and other body armor. She winced remembering the OTHER battle sounds – the cries of those in pain and those dying! She shivered at her cruel and haunting memories in spite of the warm sun caressing her skin. Someone, she couldn’t remember who it was, was fighting Corvintheus, and as his sword blade thrust into the demi-god, she remembers seeing his image flicker between that of the demi-god Corvintheus and that of the Rebel Aurelius. Then came the immense ball of energy and the blinding flashes of white light. In the blink of an eye, Corvintheus was gone and so was Aurelius. She looked, as did other army members, and no one was able to find the bodies of either man lying anywhere on the battlefield. As Larien sat in the dirt in thought, she felt that it had something to do with the flickering images. WAIT! That was it!!! Flickering images! The Corvintheus that the Angels battled was not the real demi-god but had to be Aurelius in some magical disguise. Why had she not noticed this before now? If the Corvintheus battling his people, her Angels, was the magical reincarnation of his image and was really controlled by Aurelius, the message that was being sent to the people of Valeria and the Castle Angels now made sense. Wasn’t that the same message that they heard the Rebel Aurelius speak when the Angels battled him many months ago? Oh, the pieces all began to finally fall perfectly into place.

Larien shook herself from her memories and went back to her garden. She now had to contemplate what she should do with this new insight to their battle. Should she keep it to herself, share it with the people, or share it with just the Council members? As she dug at the weeds under the warmth of the sun that afternoon, she battled with herself as to her next course of action, taking her frustration out on the weeds. Larien decided that, for the time being anyway, she would keep it to herself and momentarily wait. Since no Angels had lost their lives and those injured were healing well, she felt that it was alright to keep her thoughts to herself before revealing them to anyone else.

She continued working until the shadows from the surrounding trees grew longer, stretching their shadowy branches across her completed herb beds. Larien knew it was time to clean up. As she slowly stood, her back stiff from bending, she perused her handiwork. The beds were all cleared and looked inviting, waiting for the coming plants that would fill in the bare places. The baby sprouts now had room to grow and spread out. Yes, this was a good day’s work. Maybe one more day of work in the flower and vegetable beds and she would be done. Larien took several trips carrying her filled baskets to the far back corner of the garden and threw the weeds into the fenced area. She would let nature do Her work over the next year, after which she should have some lovely new earth for next years’ plantings. She stored the tools back into the shed for the next use and went into the house.

Galeran Glen with its warm waters and soothing surroundings beckoned to Larien’s spirits and stiff body. What a wonderful ending to her day of strenuous work! She packed up a change of clothes and set off for her oasis. It had been a few days since her last visit to her little piece of heaven on earth. It was also the one protected place that she could go to which few could find their way. That was due, in part, to the magical properties of the glen that dated back to when she was a little girl. Her father, Farren Arcamenel, knew early in Larien’s life that she would need a place to call her own that was safe and protected from evil influences and where she could go for peace and healing. He also had placed it between the lands of her people and the Castle Angel’s Keep so that she could visit the glen no matter where she was – with either her elven people or the humans. And Larien, over the years, continued to keep Galeran Glen safe from outsiders. She could literally count on one hand the number of people that actually knew their way to her special glen – her brother Finn, Zigaroth, and Mark. They were also the only ones that had been granted the ability to see the special portal leading to the glen from Wildon Woods.

Today, as Larien journeyed to her glen, she missed having her father around so she could go to him for guidance. She really needed to ask his opinion on how she should handle her insight to the battle between Corvintheus and the Angels. While she lost her father during the Dragon Wars, she still remembered him as a wise and understanding man, a just and noble king, and a warm and loving father. There was rarely a day that went by when she did not think of him and wonder what he would do or say if he were faced with the questions being posed in her life and the guidance she gave. She wanted to be like him – understanding, wise, just, noble, strong, and well-loved. Larien hoped that, given time, those people that looked to her for leadership and advice would compare her favorably to her father, King Farren.

As she made her way through Wildon Woods to the portal that would take her to the glen, she noticed that the sun was getting ready to set. While Larien could not see the sun sink into the horizon, she could see the effects of its actions. It was painting the clouds’ undersides with tinges of pale gold at their centers, then blending that into pinks from light to dark, and finally feathering the clouds’ edges with a pale purple. It made the clouds so exquisite and they seemed to glow with their own life force as they changed with the setting sun, their colors intensifying. This color of sunset always made Larien smile. When she was a child, whenever the sky and clouds were this exact color, her father would always ask her what the color of the sky was. He would tease her when she told him that the sunset was “sky-blue-pink” by telling her there was no such color as sky-blue-pink. Larien would always tell him that there was too and all he needed to do was look up at the sky and it was painted there for him and the world to see.

When the sky’s colors were at their most intense deep blues, pinks, and purples, she broke from the woods and into her special getaway place – Galeran Glen. Larien stood transfixed as her eyes took in the glen. It did not make a difference how often she came here. It always seemed to be able to take her breath away and Larien could find new pleasures. It could be as simple as the way the sun reflected off the water, or a new flower pointing its head through the moss, or a butterfly gracefully hovering in the air. It was a source of healing for her, whether it was for her body, her mind, or her soul. She could come here and let the tranquility soak into her very being. Here she could be free. She could be Larien; just a woman without titles, without worries, without responsibilities, without a past, and without a future. To her, it was a haven where time stood still and nothing existed beyond Galeran Glen.

Tonight the sky, in its sky-blue-pink glory, was reflected in the water pools giving back a mirrored image to the lazy clouds. The clouds looking down from their vast heights could see just how beautifully unique they had become, transformed by the setting sun. Their images rippling in the water gave them a special and unique motion, their colors blending together in the water. Even in the fading light she could make out the rock formations that formed the waterfalls that surrounded the pool and protected the glen’s secrets. Time and the cascading waters had worn the rock faces smooth and covered those not directly under the falls in thick layers of verdant green moss. Small blue and yellow flowers grew in the crevices giving splashes of color over the rock formations. Larger bushes and plants in pinks and reds and oranges grew where the rocks were bare of moss and their roots could find rich soil. Sometimes when Larien came, the sun would be shining at just the right angle, reflecting prisms of rainbow colors which danced all around the falls as if the fairy folk themselves were dancing between the droplets, playing tag. The honey bees could be heard buzzing around the flowers, and the butterflies floated effortlessly in the air. The falls themselves held a secret, too. There was actually a chamber-like area behind it where you could sit and think or stand and bathe without being seen from the waterfall pool. Larien smiled to herself thinking of all the times she would disappear and her father didn’t know where she went – or so she liked to think.

For now, she climbed the rock steps to the largest rock. This was dubbed her “thinking rock”. It was covered with a thick mossy cushion and large enough for her to do whatever she wished – contemplate life, dry off in the sun after a swim, sleep if she were tired, or lie down and look at the sky and watch the clouds make formations of rabbits or birds or other things on a lazy, sunny afternoon. She also liked this boulder because part of it was close enough to the edge of the waterfall that she could reach her foot or hand out and let the water run over it before hitting the still waters beneath and the other part jutted out over the pool making her feel like she were floating on an island. The sound of the running water was calming to her spirit, its flow like a heartbeat - slow, steady, and constant as it made its way down the rocks and into the pool. Sometimes she would go behind the falls so she could watch her world through the curtain of water, pretending she was playing hide and seek with the fairy folk dancing on their rainbows.

Larien needed to stretch her body and relax the tension she felt from the day’s gardening. She stood at the water’s edge and slowly disrobed. She took her time, letting each garment fall from her fingertips to cascade around her feet. She reveled in shaking the worries and cares and tensions with each garment piece she removed. She lifted her face to the darkening sky and closed her eyes trying to clear her mind and relax her muscles. She felt free! This was Larien’s time. She stepped to the edge of the rock overlooking the pool, raised her arms in a diver’s stretch, and dove into the water, her body slicing through the dark waters without a splash, without a sound to disturb the early nightfall.

created originally 5 September 2011