The Journal of Calamar Eldanil:

Chapter 4: I Discover Kiri's Favourite Time Of Year

28th Snowflowers 591

My friends have held no ill will toward me for my poor reaction yesterday. In fact, during our resting for the remainder of the day, they continually jested with me about my killing Garlach (and making much more of it than it was) that I soon joined them in the fun.

It is a good companion that can pick up your spirits when you are down! It is also a good friend who can make light of your character flaws and accept you in spite of them. With my companions, I am thrice blessed.

During our resting yesterday, we found that Drusilalia was known to Liquathé’s band and she would continue journeying with us to the Brightwood.

Some of Liquathé’s troops were departing to escort some of the freed humans northwards. Others of the humans were coming with us as their homes were nearer the Brightwood and they had been caught while travelling. In all, our band now numbered we four, Drusilalia, the survivors of Liquathé’s group (they had lost three of their number in the attack), fifteen of our people who had been freed, and twelve humans.

Our spirits were high, not just for having successfully defeated a band of slavers and freeing so many souls, but also as tomorrow is the first day of Springrite (Growfest as the humans call it). I felt it would be good that we would be within the folds of the Brightwood and under the protective eye of the Leaflord and the rest of the Seldarine for this High Holiday. Kiri even remarked that she noticed even more of a spring in my step than usual.

We planned to make for the Brightwood, hoping to reach camp at its edge that evening, as it would take us most of the day today to travel to the forest. A further half-day’s travel through the trees would take us to the Liquathé’s settlement. We gathered a few more scouting parties returning to the Wood for the festival and the common talk about the camp was how prophetic the salvation of the slaves was, it coming so close to the festival of rebirth and life.

I tried explaining to Rackhe some of what he was about to experience and how much easier it would be to feel his elven-blood flowing, but, between my effusive babbling and his natural scepticism, I do not think I convinced him. We shall see what we shall see.

*~*~*~*~*

I Discover Kiri’s Favourite Time of Year

1st Springrite 591

Just as midday approached, we reached the settlement of Brightwood. The humans in our party were awestruck by its beauty. Rackhe said he had never seen anything like it in his travels.

As we approached the settlement, the trees became taller and leaner, some tall ipp trees appearing in their midst and growing more numerous as we went on. Coming upon the settlement proper, I pointed out some of the more interesting sights to Rackhe. He noticed how the apparent haphazard stonework laid out in some of the paths actually had a flow and rhythm to it. All of us marvelled at a beautiful sparkling fountain and streamlet that crossed our path beneath a stonework bridge that appeared to be more than a few generations old. Yet the bridge and everything else we saw was made in such a way as to blend with or enhance its natural surroundings. More and more wildflowers dotted the paths we took. The paths themselves became less wild and more clear and easy to traverse. We saw more and more of our people going about their business and preparing for the festival.

I immediately felt that I was coming home.

When we finally came upon the central glade of the settlement, we beheld a beautiful sight. We were surrounded by tall ipp trees, most of them holding elaborate tree houses and garlanded with ivy and flowers. Small huts of the local craftspeople stood open to the air about the glade. The grass was smooth and almost knee-high, waving gently in the small breezes that caressed it, or rocking exuberantly as the children of the settlement ran past chasing butterflies or each other.

Coming across the glade towards us, guided by one of the scouts of Liquathé’s band, was a group of the leaders of the community. The first to catch my eye was an elder dressed as a member of my order, of higher rank than Liquathé but of the same branch of the order as myself. I learned later that his name was Aravon and he was the nominal leader of the community while Liquathé served as the war leader. Accompanying Aravon was another elf, not as old, but definitely an arcanist of great power. He was introduced as Thiraldor, the mage of the community. With them was one of the oldest elves I have had the pleasure to meet. (Indeed, Rackhe was amazed at how old this fellow was and, upon my speculation that he was probably in at least his sixth century, he was speechless.) This man was Ivelivis, the community’s loremaster and a priest of the Sage at Sunset, Labelas Enoreth.

Aravon welcomed us warmly and thanked us for participating in the freeing of the slaves. We graciously accepted his praise and we were ushered to the temple of my faith to have the remaining of my companion’s wounds seen to.

I asked if we could discuss the matter of our nightmares with him. He assured me that there would be time over the next few weeks and that no doubt both he and Ivelivis would be interested in discussing this. He courteously invited me to attend the ceremonies while we were staying in the settlement. I most warmly accepted his invitation, hoping this would help guide me along my chosen path.

One of the acolytes of my order took us in hand. The four of us were introduced to our guesthouse in one of the trees, occupying four of its six rooms. Narion, Kiri, and I were right at home, and Rackhe was comfortable enough being familiar with heights from his sailing days. He was still a little surprised at the way the elven children dashed about the un-railed steps leading to the dwellings. The acolyte then reminded us that they would all see us again at dinner that evening, it being the first night of the festival.

As soon as we had dropped our gear and my companions had removed their armour (I had removed mine during talking to Aravon), the three of us elves looked at each other with sly smiles and then Narion announced, “It’s off to the bathing pools for me!”

With a chuckle, we all descended the tree and found our way to one of the glades where the bathing pools were. These were a stepped series of pools, each with a different temperature from hot to cold that our people bathed in and took their leisure, easing the cares of the day away and such.

Our half-elf friend once again did not grasp the concept fully at first. His eyes widened as Narion and I began to disrobe on our way to the side of one of the pools. As he turned away, he caught a glimpse of a fully naked Kiri stepping into one of the warm pools and chatting with a couple who were already there.

“Umm … Perhaps I shall bathe later,” he mumbled. But while I tried to convince him, Narion had gone forward and chatted with two comely lasses who approached and with the admonishment of “Don’t be shy,” began to take off the northerner’s clothes and drag him into one of the pools.

I think Rackhe blushed over his entire body, and I felt glad and happy as I joined the crowd in the pool.

Dinner that evening was a fine communal affair in the main glade. Rackhe mentioned that it was along the lines of something his people called a ‘smorgasbord,’ but he also maintained that the food was exquisite. Wandering minstrels strolled about the glade and we all had a good time eating and conversing with new friends.

After dinner, while I attended to some small duties at the temple, my friends explored the village, finding many small parties starting up and Narion explaining the trysting glades to Rackhe and Kiri. I rejoined them some time later at a songfest in one of the glades and then we all retired to a night of ease and rest that we all felt we had well earned.

*~*~*~*~*

2nd Springrite 591

Rackhe and I had the most restful sleep that we have had in ages. It seems that the power of Verath cannot reach us here in the bosom of my elven brethren. Moreover, Rackhe slept for almost twelve hours! He did not appear fully rested until nigh on the midday hour. Before a quick lunch he went to check on the group of humans who had accompanied us to the Brightwood, bringing back reports that they were amazed and delighted at their good fortune for seeing something that few of their kind ever have. They were enjoying their stay most happily. The children amongst them were even joining the elven children in games and frolic.

Lunch was fairly light and quite enjoyable. Kiri fed me grapes as we all reclined around a small table. Narion flirted with some of the village women as they passed and everyone’s spirits were high and happy. Rackhe was still a little taken aback by all the relaxed airs being taken, so I beckoned over two pretty young girls.

“Yes, your holy worship?” one asked when they smilingly plopped themselves down on the grass beside us.

“My friend,” I explained, “is not from these parts and is unfamiliar with the customs of our people. Perhaps you might think of some way he could enjoy the local sights.”

The one who had spoken smiled at her friend who, grasping Rackhe’s arm, smiled and said, “It would be our pleasure!”

Rackhe did not utter an argument as he was hustled off barely even before he had a chance to open his mouth. No doubt, this day would find him experiencing a trysting glade first hand at some point.

Kiri giggled and poked my shoulder, “You’re quite devious sometimes. You know that, don’t you?”

I nipped at her fingers and simply replied, “I’m just looking after the boy’s welfare. That’s all.”

“Well, as you’re going to be at the temple again this afternoon, I’m off to the bathing pools again,” and with that she kissed my cheek and darted off to the pools.

*~*~*~*~*

When we all met up again at dinner that evening, Narion had a comely wench on his arm. A most enjoyable beauty named Elianara who had a sparkling smile and quick wit. Perhaps she could give him a run for his money. Kiri had run across Iveliast at the bathing pools and they had discussed arcane matters, amidst some time spent in idle play with a group in one of the trysting glades. She had also run across the seamstress (no doubt during the same frolic) and arranged to procure some nice dresses and such after the festival.

That evening we participated in more revelry. The pace was stepping up toward the equinox and minor magics started to appear with the bards. The food was even more luscious. The wine flowed freely. And some couples were not very discreetly engaging in embraces while still at table.

Kiri was full of a playful spirit tonight and we coupled in her room with quite a sense of abandon. I have no idea what she talked about with her new acquaintances or what they did, but she was definitely a handful. It is a good thing that we are not adventuring on the morrow as neither of us slept much at all.

Moreover, Rackhe was sleeping much better than he had in weeks and his mood was improving daily.

*~*~*~*~*

3rd Springrite 591

As a treat today I decided to further Rackhe’s education in the customs of his elven parentage. I also felt that his knowledge of the Seldarine and the rites of my religion might stand him in good stead as he followed his own path of enlightenment to his gods. So, I took him with me when I went to see how the preparations for the festival were coming on an errand to the temple of Hanali Celanil. I knew this trip would be an eye-opener for my stern friend.

We were greeted by some of the minor priests and priestesses, all comely and dressed beautifully. Once we were welcomed (by some of the priestesses very enthusiastically), one of Xanalia, the high priestess’s, acolytes came out to see to us. Her name was Vallanna and I could tell that she truly embodied the wholesome and friendly aspects of the Winsome Rose. Rackhe was quite taken with her from the start.

She conversed with us for a while and, while I was about my business, offered to take Rackhe under her wing and help him to understand some more of our race’s culture. He certainly did not object, and I knew I had left him in good hands, as I went about my errands to help prepare for the festival.

The day before the solstice is usually an exciting day. The community of the Brightwood celebrated with a celebration and display of various artisans showing their work. Xanalia presided over this and we were all four of us quite amazed at some of the quality of works on display.

Many of the community’s craftspeople worked in fabrics and costuming and numerous and varied dye patterns made the glade a riot of colour and sparkle. One artisan was a fine weapon smith who caught both Narion’s and Rackhe’s eye with his fine work. They marvelled at the combination of both beauty and function that the man had achieved in his work. Xanalia herself was something of a sculptor, using precious gems and semi-precious stones as her medium. Kiri was quite taken with one fine piece, and ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ over the other works as well.

The highest award of the celebration went to a woman who had created embroidery of a woodland scene of some religious significance, blending fabric, silver and gold thread, and small gems in a beautiful work encased within a finely carved wooden frame. We were told that this work alone had taken her twenty years to complete to her satisfaction. It was truly marvellous.

That evening we indulged in more revelry. Narion kept disappearing, as he had been throughout our stay, I presume with some girl or another. But we all took part in tonight’s festivities, eating, singing, drinking, and dancing. Thiraldor and some of his apprentices were doing street magic and arcane light sparkled throughout the glade. All were in a fine festive mood.

Kiri was perhaps the happiest I had ever seen her. She danced and danced amongst the many circles and columns that weaved about the glade. Long after Narion and I had sat to catch our breath, she had moved into the centre of one of the circles near us and was gaily dancing about, throwing her mane of jet-black hair about her as if driven by the wind. It was breathtaking!

But the most surprising and amazing thing was to happen next. A sudden cry of excitement went up from the central dance group and we looked to see our stern northern friend, Rackhe, whirling about in the centre of the dance with a grace that we had not seen in him before. He was springing and doing high kicks and twirling and flipping, all the while twisting and weaving in an almost hypnotic rhythmic pattern with two flashing scimitars in his hands.

Everybody was amazed at this display and we were all clapping, cheering, and laughing, and singing him on to greater heights. Thiraldor and Iveliast, and some of their apprentices, were studying him with rapt attention and soon Rackhe’s swords trailed fairy lights and sparks through the night sky. As the music built to a crescendo we were all entranced by Rackhe’s sabre dance, and when the music ended suddenly with him striking a dramatic pose and standing stock still, there was a sudden pause of immense quiet.

Then the entire glade erupted in a burst of joy and happiness. People flocked about our friend, men clapping him on the back and women embracing him. He turned to one side and handed the twin scimitars to the very weapon smith we had met earlier at the crafts display and with, a word of thanks to the smith from the Northman, the group raised him to their shoulders.

The last we saw of him that evening was as a group of elven girls, led by Vallanna of all people, dragging him off into the night. I am sure he would sleep soundly … if he slept at all.

Aravon and Xanalia stepped forward to address the throng celebrating in the glade. “Friends! We have had a good day among many good days. Tonight is a night for rest as tomorrow we fest!”

A great cheer went up and we all parted our ways for the evening.

I tucked my arm in Kiri’s and looked about. Once again, Narion was off doing whatever Narion does when a supply of pretty girls was readily at hand. What a man!

*~*~*~*~*

4th Springrite 591 - The Spring Equinox

Today was a day of high festivities! After lunch, there were two marriage ceremonies. Indeed, it was a day of great celebration. Vallanna, who seems to be spending a lot of time with Rackhe, ostensibly tutoring him in the elven culture - although I feel she may have ulterior motives (lucky man!) - took time to explain the tradition of elven bonding to my northern friend. It was a beautiful ceremony and both Rackhe and Kiri were tearing up during the rite of bonding. Xanalia, in all her priestly finery (and the priestesses of Hanali Celanil have the most beautiful official raiment), presided over the exchanging of vows and asked the Seldarine to bless the unions of the two couples. I agreed with everyone that it was a very pretty and touching ceremony.

As soon as the ceremony ended at mid-afternoon, the party began.

It lasted all day, culminating at midnight with a short but powerfully spiritual ceremony beneath the two moons, Celene and Luna, in a glade prepared especially for this purpose. As a priest of the Seldarine, I was invited to take part in the ceremony. This was a great honour for me to help my newfound brethren in their observances of the rites of springtime. The air was charged with power and the glade fairly glowed with divine radiance. All in attendance were touched by the gods and we all felt rejuvenated and reborn unto the world!

After the ceremony, it was back to the festivities for the rest of the night. Feywine was brought out and, under Vallanna’s care, Rackhe tried his first taste if the liqueur of his elven ancestors. A few hours later, I managed to pry Kiri and I away from our other partners and I drew her to an unoccupied trysting glade. I then asked if she would like to share my bottle of Feywine that I had brought from Wardlow. She took the rest of the night to tell me what a good idea she thought that this was.

It was a good thing for me that I felt the power of my faith rejuvenating me that night.

*~*~*~*~*

5th-7th Springrite 591

Festivities were winding down. More partying was in store for us. Feasting at midday and eventide in the main glade was the quietest time of our days. We did not see but mere glimpses of our Northman friend. And those glimpses were immensely entertaining. We did not see him at all on the fifth day of the festival, he only reappearing on the next to last day.

It was during luncheon that a cry went up at the far end of the glade and Rackhe, waving his arms and bellowing out a probably bawdy song in his home tongue, came streaking through the glade. He was leaping across tables and spinning past diners - all the while wearing nothing but his fur trimmed boots with his wolf-skin cloak trailing out behind him.

Narion and I laughed heartily. Kiri’s only response was to exclaim, “My! But they do grow them big in the north, don’t they?” which, of course, set Narion and I off again in gales of laughter. Kiri just turned and punched each of us in the shoulder before she too joined us in laughing at our friend’s antics.

Other instances of Rackhe acting with more freedom than we had seen followed as the community began to wind down from the big celebrations. We would also often see him in the company of Vallanna or another of the village maidens. He definitely seemed to be enjoying himself, so we left him alone to his happiness.

*~*~*~*~*

1st Blossoms 591

Rackhe returned to us today. At least the man we had known as Rackhe. He seemed unaware that three days had passed hence and he was mystified when we told him that the festival was over and everyone had returned to his or her regular tasks. We poked jibes at him about running around practically naked, which made him blush severely. This was especially so when Kiri commented on “how healthy the worshippers of Kord seem to be.”

Throughout the day people we had never met would approach and greet him in a friendly manner with a “Good day, Rackhe!” or even a “Hello, Rackhe Blackfoot!” Many were the young lasses who cast warm glances and casual embraces his way. Even Drusilalia, who was getting ready to return home on the morrow, gave him a warm embrace and a small kiss when she greeted him that day.

Rackhe eventually turned to me with a puzzled look in his eyes. I just smiled, shrugged my shoulders, and said, “I told you that it would be easier. Didn’t I?”

*~*~*~*~*

2nd Blossoms 591

We bid goodbye to Drusilalia today. Kiri gave her a warm embrace and Narion passed on some encouraging words of praise for how she had conducted herself and encouragement to carry on. Rackhe held back somewhat, still a little embarrassed from the previous day, but he did embrace her and wish her well. I, having secured one of the enchanted blades we had retrieved from the slavers, presented her with my old sword crafted in my home village before I left on my travels. She is a good girl, and I told her that she deserved this as a token of our friendship and trust. She demurely thanked me and went on her way.

As we waved her from the glade, Narion said as an aside to me, “You do know that that was an extremely fine sword you just gave away.”

“I know,” I replied. “I’m sure it is in good hands.”

Narion chuckled, “I agree, my priestly friend. Sometimes you act quite strangely to my mind. Yet at others I see the Seldarine shining in your actions.”

I smiled at the strong elven warrior. Coming from a hero such as he, this was high praise indeed.

*~*~*~*~*

3rd Blossoms 591

Quite an interesting discussion on Rackhe’s and my dreams and ailments was had with Aravon and Ivelivis. They told me what they thought of the situation. In short, it was not that the Lady of the Dreams had turned away from me. It was more that this was a test of my strength in my faith and in me, to the very core of my being. The learned Ivelivis summed it up by advising me that, “the Seldarine help those who are willing to help themselves in troubled times.”

This was a great comfort to me. I now knew that the gods had not abandoned me; just that I had lost the light of hope that burned within me to keep going. I was now more determined than ever to face whatever dangers were involved in defeating the demonic Verath. My only worry was that I should see my friends hurt - or worse - during their accompanying me on my journey with Rackhe.

Kiri had spent most of the day talking with Thiraldor and Iveliast about the spellbook that they had captured from the slavers. Over the next few days, I am sure she will come out with some new spells in her repertoire.

*~*~*~*~*

4th Blossoms 591

The days were still idyllic and Narion and Rackhe were off and about doing whatever it is that they do (I am sure that ‘wenching’, as Narion calls it, has much to do with how they pass their time).

Kiri modeled her new dresses for me today. They are exquisite items. While not as ostentatious as the one she purchased in Wardlow, that they were manufactured by our people made them much prettier in my mind.

In the evening she modeled some of her other purchases for me. She had purchased some delicate and fine small clothing. Of course, I found her taste remarkably superb and I proceeded to show her just how much.

I was very pleased, and so - I believe - was she.

*~*~*~*~*

Interlude - Sabbatical

5th Blossoms – 5th Goldfields 591

Darkness surrounded him. It was an inky black darkness and he was swimming through it, the dark dragging upon his muscles as if was crafted from a thick syrup. How did he get here? Where were his friends? Calamar tried to heave forward, only not knowing where forward or up or down or any direction were, he simply seemed to spin about; suspended in the black.

Gradually he thought he noticed a small grey patch ahead of him in the darkness. He tried to move towards it. His arms and legs moved sluggishly, pulling and ripping at the inky blackness holding him back. He swam harder. The blackness was dragging him down.

The grey haze seemed to get smaller.

Suddenly a brilliant flash of white and purple and yellow appeared, yawning open like a rift in from of him. He quailed at this. But soon found that there was nothing to be afraid of.

He then found himself sitting on a fallen log beside a forest stream. The leaves of the trees and blades of grass were a deep emerald green, and the stream trickled over the rocks in its bed with an almost musical quality. The sky above was robin’s egg blue with a few small puffy clouds chasing each other about the heavens. The sun felt warm on his face and body, clothed as it was in a soft blue and white shift of light cotton.

The small priest was a little confused at how he had arrived here, and why he was dressed this way. He looked about for his companions. He was alone.

No sign of his friends could be found. His only company was a small fawn standing aside the stream, interrupted from his drinking and turning large brown eyes to observe the elf calmly. A small nightingale flew down and settled on the stump beside the elf.

Calamar startled a little at this but then smiled and extended his hand, finger crooked in welcome, to the bird.

The next thing he knew, in place of the nightingale a beautiful elven woman sat. She was attired in a gown of white and deep dark purple, small jewels winking in and out of sight on the dress. A cloak of deep black trimmed with silver was draped casually yet regally about her shoulders. Her hair, a deep and lustrous black, as dark as the night sky, fell about her shoulders and down her back in waves of glorious jet, then sun glinting of bluish and purplish highlights as she turned to face the startled priest. She raised her delicate hand, palm out in a welcoming gesture, toward Calamar and spoke, her voice sounding like a combination of a nightingale’s and gentle breeze on a moonlit night. Her smile widened and her eyes, the pools of deep black settled in the silver of the new moon, shone brightly at the man.

“Greetings Calamar Eldanil, forien to Lissriel Antamar; servant and instrument of my lord, my husband the Coronal of Arvandor.”

Calamar’s eyes opened wide in shock. ‘My husband, the Coronal?’ That meant … that this was … Daughter of the Night Skies, the Lady of Dreams herself … Sehanine Moonbow!!!

And with the realization that he was in the company of one of the Seldarine itself, he did the only thing that could be expected of him.

He fainted.

*~*~*~*~*

When he awoke, Calamar felt at peace.

He was lying upon a stretch of sunbathed grass beside the small stream. He heard the soft melodic sound of a song of his people and felt the cool caress of clear water sprinkled on his face. When he wrinkled his nose at this tickling sensation, the song changed to gay feminine laughter.

He opened his eyes.

The goddess had folded her legs under her and was cradling his head in her lap, one hand gently lying upon his shoulder while the other dribbled calming stream water upon his brow. He sat up suddenly and began to stammer an apology for … for what he didn’t know. He just felt he needed to apologise.

The Moonbow smiled her dazzling smile again, bright and flickering as starlight in the evening sky. “Calm! Quessa, Voronya Estelcon! Our steadfast and hopeful hero! You are not done with the mortal realm yet, Fír Atanandil. Yea, I should rightly name you Estelatana, for you are truly the friend of all who are hopeful, not just humankind.”

Calamar just sat and gaped at the goddess. “You do me great honour, Daughter of the Night Sky, O Luminous Cloud. But I am unworthy of your attention. And I am surely no hero.”

The Lady of the Night Skies smiled gently. “Did you not take up the cause of the goodly folk of the Hestmark Highlands? And this in light of a coming war, one that you, yourself, feel ill-equipped to deal with? Is that not a noble and heroic choice to make?”

“But, my lady,” mumbled Calamar, his well-known turn of phrase failing him at this divine moment, “I simply accompany my friends. They are those who should be named Estelvorona, the steadfast heroes. I am but a small shepherd to their small band.”

She laughed; a tinkling lovely sound that almost caused his heart to break in love and warmth. “Nonsense, our little priestly friend. It is the noblest of choices to oppose that which we most fear and are least skilled to handle. Nobler even more so to do so as the companion of friends who need you in their hour of trial and tribulation; knowing that you are taking a great risk on their and other’s behalf.” She cocked her head to the side slightly. “Do mean to say that you have chosen this path for other gain? Other benefit?”

Calamar calmed himself and looked to his goddess. “No, my lady. I did not choose this path for my own benefit. If anything, I chose this path to repay in some small way the debt I owe to my companions for shielding and protecting my poor personage in the grand adventures. It was due to my failure and lack of wisdom that they have trekked so far from the north.”

He sighed. “I am cursed with a wound to spirit brought on in - I can only assume - in a moment of weakness through the power of the demon, Verath. My companion Rackhe has also been afflicted with the same curse. So not only have I failed my faith for succumbing to the demon’s wiles, I have also failed in supporting my Ratiker friend in promoting his elfblooded side, and also failed in keeping my friends from harm; for they travelled south to aid myself and the Northman in ridding ourselves of this curse.”

He looked up at the goddess and was a little surprised to see her smiling. A small smile broke his despondent countenance as he remarked, “But then you probably knew all that already.”

“It is true that your path was not unknown to us. And it is to reward you for supporting your friends, especially in counselling your ranger friend, as well as bringing the word of my husband and our court to the goodly folk that I have come to talk with you. You have always provided wise counsel to Rackhe, at the same time respecting his right to choose to follower other of the gods. And our names are never far from your prayers or the praises you invoke to the masses.”

She placed a small delicate hand on the priest’s knee. “You are truly as good and kind a servant that my husband could ask for.”

Calamar blushed. “But … where am I? What is this place? And why am I here if I am to shepherd my companions in their travels?”

“Where? Why this is Arvandor!” She put up her hand when the elf panicked at this. “No, dear Calamar, you are not dead. Your time is not yet at an end. You are here because you lie at death’s door in the Brightwood, brought down by the wound to your being by the demon’s ill will. Your Northman half-elf friend has received the bounty of my husband and been cleansed of his ailment. You have felt this pain much deeper than just your body. Your very soul has been severely wounded. This visit is merely a dream. One from which you will awaken soon. But before that happens, I must pass on some wisdom to you. My lord has seen to it to remove the curse upon your soul and allow you to move forward in your task of helping your friends accomplish their goals.

“He will be providing you with some tools necessary for this task. One, a glorious suit of mail crafted by our petitioners that carries some of the essence of our court with it so that you may always know we are by your side. Another, a stout arm and keen eye to help guard you in your work, one familiar to you as the elven paladin Lodorin, holy knight of my husband. The last, the renewing of the conviction of your heart that you have not failed the Creator in your devotion, and are strong in his sight as a true message to the people of the power of the Seldarine among them.”

She rose to stand beside the priest, smiling benignly at him. “Know you, Calamar Eldanil; that your time in the land is not yet at an end. Great things are to be accomplished in the coming months. You and your companions are to be part of them. And perhaps not a small part.” She stooped and kissed the bedazzled elf warmly on the lips. “And, please, pass that on to she who seems to hold your heart above all others. My sister of the Heart of Gold sees that you are bound to her by bonds stronger than any steel, that they can reach across time and the planes to link you.” Her nose wrinkled as if at some private riddle or jape.

As the scene started to fade, the grey inkiness creeping in at the edges, she once again stood and smiled at the priest, “Be well, Calamar Eldanil! Friend not just to elves… but to all the goodly races. When once again we meet, you will have to tell me the story of your deeds and those of your companions. Farewell!”

And with that, the darkness settled in again.

*~*~*~*~*

Liquathé sat at the bedside of the visiting priest. He had lain in this coma now for some weeks, showing neither sign of sickening nor of recovering. True, his rest seemed more peaceful now as time progressed, his early illness causing him to experience great pain-wracked nightmares that could only be described by his Northman friend. Rackhe’s own pain had seemed to lessen and disappear over the time of the Springrite; the more he experienced the flow of his elfblood within his veins.

The half-elven ranger had seemed much more invigorated after the festival; the healers noticing that all disturbances of sleep and the pains he had been suffering has disappeared. It was as if the renewal of the festival had renewed something in him as well. On the other hand, the small elven priest had one day slipped into a deep slumber from which nothing could seem to awaken him.

Calamar’s companions had departed long ago to be about their business of fighting the good fight in the coming war. The forces of the Lordship of the Isles and the evil humanoids raiding throughout the hills and forests made it imperative to see to the aid of the goodly folk of the area. They had been loathe leaving the little priest behind, but had realized that they could not both care for their friend and protect the land from the depredations of the invader. So, it fell to the community of the Brightwood to tend the stricken man. They had departed with warm thoughts and kindness, the sorceress Kirienalla even planting a gentle tearful kiss on his forehead before reluctantly leaving with her companions.

Liquathé sighed and stood to stretch her muscles. She had been at Calamar’s bedside all day and she was a little stiff. Whereas she differed with the small elf on some matters of theology, particularly his following of the more peaceful aspects of the Coronal, she had come to respect him during the time of the equinox festival. She even liked him a bit, also having shared some intimacy with him over Springrite. The priestess sighed. That Kiri was certainly a lucky girl.

She looked at the invalided elf. He was comely, true; but his true beauty seemed to radiate from within him. The girl brushed her hand across his placid face, brushing a golden strand of hair off and tucking it behind an ear. She turned to move over and admire the suit of armour draped on the stand in the corner of the room. A golden suit of chainmail, gifted from the Seldarine some few days ago, finely crafted as no such suit of armour she’d before laid eyes on. The holy symbol of her order hung around the neck on a fine chain of smoothly linked platinum; the crescent moon in rich silver, bejewelled with diamonds and sapphires, rubies and emeralds, and trimmed in fine gold filigree. Another gift from the Seldarine for her little charge.

Liquathé ran her hand across the mail; it felt like running her hand across the surface of golden icy water. She sighed. How she would love to bear this icon into battle against the hordes of evil.

A small head poked in the door of the room. It was Vellanna, a sister priestess of the Winsome Rose, come to relieve her. She caught Liquathé admiring the holy symbol, as she had often in the past. With a gentle gibe at her friend she said, “Great things must be meant for him if these are the type of gifts the Seldarine grant him.” She hefted a tray of cups and a mug of steaming tea. “Here, I’ve brought you some refreshment to ease the strain. You’ve been here for many hours after all.” She placed the tray on a table while Liquathé joined her.

They were both suddenly startled by a voice coming from behind them. “Why, thank you. Yes. I would love a cup of tea.”

They both turned and were delightedly amazed to see Calamar sitting up on one elbow in bed, his hair lightly tousled from laying abed, his pearly white smile wide and inviting across his face. He looked at the two priestesses and took in their surprised looks. “Well?” and he winked.

The room was suddenly filled with laughter and gaiety, happiness once more resounding in the healer’s hall as the three proceeded to celebrate his awakening long into the night.

*~*~*~*~*

TO BE CONTINUED...