Dream of Ilden
folder
Fantasy & Science Fiction › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
972
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Fantasy & Science Fiction › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
972
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Part 2
Dream of Ilden
Part 2
A/N: part of the backstory will be revealed here!
and please review, if you can...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The scuffling of boots and the whisper of conversation slowly prodded Norah from her sleep. For a moment she was disoriented before memory came rushing back to her as she opened her eyes. The fire had been reduced to coals during the night, and Vynn worked to bring it back. Rays of sunshine flooded through previously unseen holes in the roof, giving the room more than enough illumination. She shivered as she threw off her cloak, the chilled air that had been kept at bay before now fully permeated through her rather thin under-shirt. She quickly pulled on her over-tunic and her boots before reaching for her bag. She would have preferred to have a bath after the considerable hike of the previous day, but all she could do was run her fingers through her hair and rub her face with her cloak.
Before she could wonder at where Eldarón had gotten off to – for she noticed he was not in the hall after she had woken up – the Elf came trotting back in, something bundled in his cloak. “I found these last night when I was searching for firewood,” he explained, tossing a green-colored fruit at both of his companions.
Norah eagerly bit into the fleshy fruit, the juices running down her chin. The green, sweet apples were abundant in the Wood, but she had never tired of them.
After a quick breakfast, the three packed their things and started off. The sky was overcast, casting a dreary light down through the trees and the smell of dampness was in the air. As Norah trudged behind her two companions, her mind wandered back to a simpler time. After all, it wasn’t always like this…
~*~*~
Norah could remember very little about her childhood, and even less about her family. She remembered being taken in by an aging priestess at the age of seven, but before that was just a blur. The priestess had been good to her, raising her as her own daughter, but Norah had always felt that there was something missing. Sheela never would tell her about where she had come from or if any of her family still existed and where they might be; instead whenever Norah asked questions about her past, she would simply coo and say, “Now, now, don’t trouble yourself with such thoughts, dear.” Norah had always thought that after she said that, she got a sad look on her face.
Her adolescent years were turmoil. She was teased endlessly for her ears. No, they weren’t big and they didn’t stick out, but they were ever-so-delicately pointed. The points were nowhere near as long as an Elf’s ears, but it was enough for some to wonder if she was part Elf. Others, however, looked upon her pointed ears and her blonde hair and the small cleft in her chin and whispered that perhaps the Mayar were not extinct.
Things got better after adolescence, and from her awkward stage she emerged a confident woman, albeit a bit later than normal. Since her hair had always been rather thin, she had cut it close to her head, emphasizing her ears that she had grown to be proud of. Her ears set her apart, made her different, and suddenly she liked different. She wasn’t the most beautiful in the land, but her odd looks that set her apart were still attractive. She was not used to attention from men – after all, she was much shorter than average and barely had enough chest to even fill out a nice dress – but they chased after her for her whimsical charm.
Life was peaceful in the Woods of Eirne. A time of peace had set in after the Great Battles of Orne, and it agreed with the land quite well. In fact, it came as quite a surprise when rumors came from the south of an evil growing and brooding. Some people grew quite concerned over it, but most laughed it off as simple hearsay.
That is, until Callie started speaking.
Callie was the Oracle at the Temple of Eirne, and seldom was she moved to speak. In fact, there were many who could not even remember what she sounded like. But when she started speaking, everyone knew who it was, and even though she whispered, everyone could hear it clearly…
Callie’s eyes rolled back and she ran her hands over her dark-skinned face and then through her braided hair, tugging on it until some were sure she would tear it from her head. She started rocking back and forth, and then, she spoke.
Her hushed voice was plain as day. Doom and disaster, death and tragedy; this was her message until she pointed at Norah and pronounced hope.
That was the moment that changed everything.
Everyone had no choice but to now believe the rumblings from the south. But what to do? What to do, indeed; the army was for show, there were no soldiers or warriors to turn to. All of the heroes of old had passed into legend and left none behind to help. The people of Eirne were simple, and there was no one within their own kind to turn to.
In desperation, they sent envoys to the Kingdoms of Terrandul and Baerl – the only Kingdoms that, they felt, would be able to truly help them – and requested a council to see what should be done.
They quickly found out that other Oracles in other cities had given similar messages of dread. However, since Norah was not there for them to point out, they had identified her by name.
When she was given this news, it made her head spin. Why was she hope? What could she possibly do? She had never held a weapon in her life, and had no skills in fighting. She was not eloquent; she had problems speaking at times, struggling to get words out that stuck in her throat. Her only “gift” was that she was an empath, something that her surrogate mother had warned her to never tell anyone about. However, in this gift, she was not very skilled; if emotions were very intense, or the person had a strong mind, she could not read them. Perhaps this was because she never truly exercised it before, or perhaps that was simply the limit of her ability; either way, she mused that this was her only true asset.
Traveling back with the envoys were chosen representatives of the Kingdoms. Terrandul bore Trysana, a very wise and respected Lady, beautiful in countenance and loved by many. It was said that wherever she went, when the men looked upon her, their hearts would break, for they knew they would never again see something so lovely. Her long dark hair was caught up in intricate loops and braids, her delicately long, pointed ears framed on either side. She was rumored to be older than the World of Ilden itself, though her face was ageless. Her red riding jacket and gloves was offset by milky skin that held an almost-visible gleam to it. Accompanying her was her cousin, Eldarón, young in comparison to her, though still quite old by the standard of Men.
With the envoys sent to Baerl, a strange man traveled. He was quite the opposite of the extravagant Elves, and bore a stark contrast to their rich colors and fabrics. His leather jerkin was emblazoned with the seal of the Royal House, the only indication that he was a man of importance. If he had been placed in a crowd you could not have picked him out, he blended in so well. He looked to be a man of the wild with his plain and functional clothing, yet when Norah first caught a glimpse of him, her heart stopped, and she felt that there was something different about this man. His head turned slightly, and caught her gaze, which she hurriedly dropped, embarrassed to be caught staring at a stranger.
She learned later that his name was Vynn. How perfect, she had mused. A simple name for a simple man.
~*~*~
Her recollections were interrupted by a hand alighting on her arm. Her head jerked up to see Eldarón walking beside her. “Are you troubled?” he asked.
“No,” she replied. “Just…deep in thought, I guess.” She smiled sheepishly before looking away. She couldn’t quite bring herself to look upon the Elf for very long; she didn’t know why.
“Even so, I sense you are in some turmoil,” he revealed before he leaned in closer to whisper, “It is not good to brood on such thoughts without release. If you should need to talk...” he left the invitation unsaid as he squeezed her arm before walking ahead of her.
Her heart pounded painfully hard in her chest from the brief contact. Whether it was simply because the skin of the Elf felt slightly tingly against her arm or because of the way his breath had grazed her ear, she wasn’t sure.
Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to look at the ground, the trees, deeper into the Wood…anywhere but the lithe figure ahead of her.
Part 2
A/N: part of the backstory will be revealed here!
and please review, if you can...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The scuffling of boots and the whisper of conversation slowly prodded Norah from her sleep. For a moment she was disoriented before memory came rushing back to her as she opened her eyes. The fire had been reduced to coals during the night, and Vynn worked to bring it back. Rays of sunshine flooded through previously unseen holes in the roof, giving the room more than enough illumination. She shivered as she threw off her cloak, the chilled air that had been kept at bay before now fully permeated through her rather thin under-shirt. She quickly pulled on her over-tunic and her boots before reaching for her bag. She would have preferred to have a bath after the considerable hike of the previous day, but all she could do was run her fingers through her hair and rub her face with her cloak.
Before she could wonder at where Eldarón had gotten off to – for she noticed he was not in the hall after she had woken up – the Elf came trotting back in, something bundled in his cloak. “I found these last night when I was searching for firewood,” he explained, tossing a green-colored fruit at both of his companions.
Norah eagerly bit into the fleshy fruit, the juices running down her chin. The green, sweet apples were abundant in the Wood, but she had never tired of them.
After a quick breakfast, the three packed their things and started off. The sky was overcast, casting a dreary light down through the trees and the smell of dampness was in the air. As Norah trudged behind her two companions, her mind wandered back to a simpler time. After all, it wasn’t always like this…
~*~*~
Norah could remember very little about her childhood, and even less about her family. She remembered being taken in by an aging priestess at the age of seven, but before that was just a blur. The priestess had been good to her, raising her as her own daughter, but Norah had always felt that there was something missing. Sheela never would tell her about where she had come from or if any of her family still existed and where they might be; instead whenever Norah asked questions about her past, she would simply coo and say, “Now, now, don’t trouble yourself with such thoughts, dear.” Norah had always thought that after she said that, she got a sad look on her face.
Her adolescent years were turmoil. She was teased endlessly for her ears. No, they weren’t big and they didn’t stick out, but they were ever-so-delicately pointed. The points were nowhere near as long as an Elf’s ears, but it was enough for some to wonder if she was part Elf. Others, however, looked upon her pointed ears and her blonde hair and the small cleft in her chin and whispered that perhaps the Mayar were not extinct.
Things got better after adolescence, and from her awkward stage she emerged a confident woman, albeit a bit later than normal. Since her hair had always been rather thin, she had cut it close to her head, emphasizing her ears that she had grown to be proud of. Her ears set her apart, made her different, and suddenly she liked different. She wasn’t the most beautiful in the land, but her odd looks that set her apart were still attractive. She was not used to attention from men – after all, she was much shorter than average and barely had enough chest to even fill out a nice dress – but they chased after her for her whimsical charm.
Life was peaceful in the Woods of Eirne. A time of peace had set in after the Great Battles of Orne, and it agreed with the land quite well. In fact, it came as quite a surprise when rumors came from the south of an evil growing and brooding. Some people grew quite concerned over it, but most laughed it off as simple hearsay.
That is, until Callie started speaking.
Callie was the Oracle at the Temple of Eirne, and seldom was she moved to speak. In fact, there were many who could not even remember what she sounded like. But when she started speaking, everyone knew who it was, and even though she whispered, everyone could hear it clearly…
Callie’s eyes rolled back and she ran her hands over her dark-skinned face and then through her braided hair, tugging on it until some were sure she would tear it from her head. She started rocking back and forth, and then, she spoke.
Her hushed voice was plain as day. Doom and disaster, death and tragedy; this was her message until she pointed at Norah and pronounced hope.
That was the moment that changed everything.
Everyone had no choice but to now believe the rumblings from the south. But what to do? What to do, indeed; the army was for show, there were no soldiers or warriors to turn to. All of the heroes of old had passed into legend and left none behind to help. The people of Eirne were simple, and there was no one within their own kind to turn to.
In desperation, they sent envoys to the Kingdoms of Terrandul and Baerl – the only Kingdoms that, they felt, would be able to truly help them – and requested a council to see what should be done.
They quickly found out that other Oracles in other cities had given similar messages of dread. However, since Norah was not there for them to point out, they had identified her by name.
When she was given this news, it made her head spin. Why was she hope? What could she possibly do? She had never held a weapon in her life, and had no skills in fighting. She was not eloquent; she had problems speaking at times, struggling to get words out that stuck in her throat. Her only “gift” was that she was an empath, something that her surrogate mother had warned her to never tell anyone about. However, in this gift, she was not very skilled; if emotions were very intense, or the person had a strong mind, she could not read them. Perhaps this was because she never truly exercised it before, or perhaps that was simply the limit of her ability; either way, she mused that this was her only true asset.
Traveling back with the envoys were chosen representatives of the Kingdoms. Terrandul bore Trysana, a very wise and respected Lady, beautiful in countenance and loved by many. It was said that wherever she went, when the men looked upon her, their hearts would break, for they knew they would never again see something so lovely. Her long dark hair was caught up in intricate loops and braids, her delicately long, pointed ears framed on either side. She was rumored to be older than the World of Ilden itself, though her face was ageless. Her red riding jacket and gloves was offset by milky skin that held an almost-visible gleam to it. Accompanying her was her cousin, Eldarón, young in comparison to her, though still quite old by the standard of Men.
With the envoys sent to Baerl, a strange man traveled. He was quite the opposite of the extravagant Elves, and bore a stark contrast to their rich colors and fabrics. His leather jerkin was emblazoned with the seal of the Royal House, the only indication that he was a man of importance. If he had been placed in a crowd you could not have picked him out, he blended in so well. He looked to be a man of the wild with his plain and functional clothing, yet when Norah first caught a glimpse of him, her heart stopped, and she felt that there was something different about this man. His head turned slightly, and caught her gaze, which she hurriedly dropped, embarrassed to be caught staring at a stranger.
She learned later that his name was Vynn. How perfect, she had mused. A simple name for a simple man.
~*~*~
Her recollections were interrupted by a hand alighting on her arm. Her head jerked up to see Eldarón walking beside her. “Are you troubled?” he asked.
“No,” she replied. “Just…deep in thought, I guess.” She smiled sheepishly before looking away. She couldn’t quite bring herself to look upon the Elf for very long; she didn’t know why.
“Even so, I sense you are in some turmoil,” he revealed before he leaned in closer to whisper, “It is not good to brood on such thoughts without release. If you should need to talk...” he left the invitation unsaid as he squeezed her arm before walking ahead of her.
Her heart pounded painfully hard in her chest from the brief contact. Whether it was simply because the skin of the Elf felt slightly tingly against her arm or because of the way his breath had grazed her ear, she wasn’t sure.
Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to look at the ground, the trees, deeper into the Wood…anywhere but the lithe figure ahead of her.