Dawnbringer: An Epic Medieval High Fantasy Saga

Eldarien and Rorlain navigate through the streets of Ristfand, leading their horses by the bridle, until they come to the courtyard in which the temple of Niraniel rises before them. They tie the horses to a post and ascend the steps to the large wooden doors, in which are carved ornate designs and runes—the temple being one of the last remaining places in which the old runes and the ancient language are still recalled. Eldarien runs his fingers along the runes and reads them aloud:

Oë Niranyë, ainá nu illó en elás,

inclés a seleánin tua eínnen ena voás. 

"It translates as: 'Niraniel, goddess of light and love, bend to your children when they cry'," he says and then sees a small hand bell suspended to the right of the doorway. He pulls it, and the sound rings out clearly in the air.

The two men wait a minute or two, and then the door swings open, revealing the clean-shaven face of a young cleric. He wears the flowing blue robe of a sage and scholar and bows to them when he sees them. "Welcome to the temple of Niraniel, travelers. Or at least I assume that you are travelers, by the look of you."

"We are," replies Eldarien. "We come from the north with important news."

"How then may I be of assistance?" the cleric asks.

"Could we perhaps speak with a master of your order?"

"The grandmaster lives here, though he is very busy. Perhaps a word about what this news might be is in order. Then I shall know whether it is worthy of his time."

"I assure you it is," says Eldarien. "It concerns the safety of the inhabitants of Ristfand and Imperial plans concerning the progress of the war."

The expression on the man's face betrays concern and confusion, as if he does not know what to make of these words and is searching in his mind for what to do. At last he says, "This way, then. I shall show you to his rœdra."

The grandmaster, much older than the man who answered the door, also wearing a robe of blue but with white hair and a beard that truly look to be, in his case, the adornment of the wise, rises to greet them as they enter his chamber. The man who had first answered the door silently departs with a bow.

"My name is Cirien Lorjies," the grandmaster says kindly, clasping the hand first of Eldarien and then of Rorlain, who introduce themselves in turn. Then he gestures to chairs in front of his desk. "Please, have a seat." After he has returned to his chair opposite them, he continues, "You are very welcome here. How may I be at your service?"

"We come bearing a message of gravity for the people of this city," Eldarien begins. "We bring news concerning what we have unintentionally witnessed—you could say intercepted—concerning the Empire's plans to attack the city."

Cirien's face becomes serious, and his gray-blue eyes reveal an ocean of understanding, compassion, and concern. He leans forward in his chair and says, "Please, tell me all that you can."

And so Eldarien does. He recounts the events that unfolded in the barrow of Sera Galaptes and then continues with their journey south and the warnings they issued on their way to Ristfand. Cirien remains silent throughout and does not even voice a single question until Eldarien has said all that he finds important to say. Cirien then opens his mouth to reply, but at that moment, there is a knock at the door. "Ah, I think I know who that might be," he says softly and then, in a loud voice, "Please, come in."

The door creaks open, and they all turn as a young woman with long auburn brown hair, clothed in poor tan cloth with a cloak of dark leather, steps into the room. She sees the guests and bows her head, saying softly, "Forgive me, I did not know that you were speaking with someone."

"No, come in, Elmariyë," Cirien says. "I wish for you to be present for this conversation, if that is acceptable to my guests."

"Why would it not be?" says Eldarien kindly. "If you trust her to be admitted to our counsels, then so do we."

"I most certainly do."

Seeing that there are only three chairs in the room, Eldarien rises to his feet and gestures for Elmariyë to be seated.

"Oh no, I couldn't," she says, raising her hands in protest. "It is you who should receive our hospitality now, and not we yours."

"Please," says Eldarien. "I insist."

"Very well..." Elmariyë sits in the chair, and Eldarien stands beside her, with one hand on the back of Rorlain's chair and another on hers. But to her surprise, rather than feeling threatened to have this man standing over her, she feels comforted.

"These men bring us news of the Empire's plan to retaliate," Cirien says, looking at Elmariyë. "They speak of a military force that is being gathered and shall march upon the city. We know not the time of their arrival, but they heard the agreement itself being made, and I have no reason to doubt these men and the word they bring."

"But you also have very little reason to trust us," Rorlain says, "and so for that trust we must thank you."

"I have seen many things in my lifetime," Cirien replies, "and it is obvious that you speak only the truth." He sighs deeply and adds, "And this truth concerns me. For you speak not only of an army of men but of fell creatures of the earth, or rather of the abyss, who intend to join with the forces of men to bring destruction upon their enemy—upon ourselves."

"It is difficult to believe, ourselves," says Rorlain. "But we witnessed such creatures with our own eyes and saw the pact being made between a leader of men and a leader of beasts."

"Then we must act according to this knowledge and prepare as best we can for such a terror," Cirien concludes.

"We came to speak to you, rather than to any other," says Eldarien, "because I thought members of the temple more sure of trust than leaders of the government. I hoped that you would be able to tell us whom of the latter we may trust with this message and whom we may not."

"It was a wise decision on your part," Cirien answers, "for trust is hard given to the leaders of Ristfand in these days. I myself do not know whether the hæras is trustworthy or not. However, he ordered the quelling of the rebellion in the ghetto, and this seems to indicate that he is willing to harm his own people in defense of the ideals and supremacy of the Empire."

"To whom then should we address ourselves?" asks Eldarien. "We need force of arms to fight, but we cannot simply speak to the officers of the Empire and ask them to aid us in a fight against their own men. Perhaps there is no choice but to speak to whatever leaders of the rebellion still remain."

"You sound hesitant to do such a thing," Elmariyë observes and then quickly adds, "Forgive me for speaking out of turn."

"No, no, Elmariyë," Cirien responds before the others can answer. "You are admitted into our counsel, so please speak freely." And then, to the two men, he adds, "Though she is young, she is more deserving of my trust than all others."

So Eldarien addresses Elmariyë directly and answers her question. As he does so, he sees a glimmer deep in her eyes which kindles something in his own, almost like a recognition of a long-lost friend or a promise fulfilled at last. "I am loathe to join with the rebels simply because I fear their cause is not entirely just. I wish to defend the people of Telmerion, and at whatever cost, but I do not intend to stand for a particular political goal or a concept of Telmerion either of my own making or of another's."

Elmariyë nods silently, as if this answer more than satisfies her.

"You speak with wisdom," Cirien says. "Those who fight for the rebellion are brave and strong, but they are also rash and, at times, short-sighted. However, I know not what other avenues we have available to us. Either the government of Ristfand shall agree to stand with us against the Imperial attack, or they shall stand against us. But the rebels, even in their diminished state after the battle, shall surely stand and fight, and we must be willing to stand at their side, even if only for a time."

"But is there any hope of success?" Rorlain asks. "If the rebellion has already been hindered by the Imperial forces within the city, what hope do we have to stand against an even larger force seeking to invade from without? Indeed, if both of these are true, we would be facing an enemy both within the city and outside of it, and simultaneously. It is not possible."

"No, it is not," Cirien agrees, "but sometimes impossible things, since they are the only course of action, are necessary. And then one realizes that they are, in fact, possible, far beyond one's own foresight or comprehension."

"I hope you are right," says Eldarien, "but what would you have us do?"

"You both speak already as if you are willing to take up arms to fight; is this correct?" Cirien asks.

"I do not know if there is another way," Eldarien says, "but I will fight only in defense of the people, no more."

"But you need a commander and also an army, or at least a fighting force—a militia—whom you may join. You cannot very well create one yourself nor lead it to victory," Cirien says.

"Our part was simply to deliver the message," Rorlain says. "We can do no more than that, besides remaining here and lending our meager strength to whatever resistance the inhabitants of the city can mount."

"I am afraid that is very little," says Elmariyë. "The city is suffering, and her people are weak. To all appearances, the rebellion has been crushed, and nothing remains but broken hearts and bodies trying to mend."

"As I said before, I believe there is more to this than meets the eye," says Cirien. "The rebel movement remained concealed for many years before bursting into the open in bloodshed. I believe that it still slumbers under the surface. We need only get in touch with it and find a way to relay your message."

"I may know of someone who can help," Elmariyë offers. "She is the wife of a man who was once the counselor to the hæras but who left this position and fought in the uprising on the side of the rebellion."

"He would indeed be a good person to speak to," says Eldarien, "both for knowledge of the mind of the hæras as well as that of the rebellion."

"Unfortunately, he was killed during the conflict," replies Elmariyë softly, lowering her eyes. "And her two children died shortly thereafter during their imprisonment for the crimes of their father."

"I am sorry to hear that," Eldarien says with genuine empathy and compassion.

"Yes, it is a situation of deepest sadness," Elmariyë whispers, and then, looking up again, "But she still lives and is recuperating in the hospital in the ghetto. Perhaps I could bring you to speak with her, and she could aid you in some way?"

"She may indeed," Rorlain answers, "but is she well enough for such a conversation?"

"I believe that she is."

"Then that settles matters for our next step," Cirien says. "Let us hope that it provides us more steps subsequently. But before anything, I suppose that both of you want to know more about what has happened in the city?"

"Indeed, we do," says Eldarien.

"Then I shall tell you what I know." Cirien then relates to the two men what he has already explained to Elmariyë concerning the intent and accomplishment of the rebel forces and the current state of the city, particularly those in the ghetto.

When he has concluded, Eldarien responds, "It indeed seems that visiting the ghetto is the best and most prudent course of action. But my heart grieves that we find no trustworthy avenue by which to address our concerns to the leaders of the city, into whose hands the well-being of their subjects is entrusted."

"I agree," Cirien says, "but you may find precisely that, also, in the ghetto. I expect that many leaders of the city are favorable to the rebellion, even if secretly."

"In the meantime, the citizens should be warned and given opportunity to make provision for themselves, even to flee to the east if they desire," Rorlain adds.

"That is true," says Cirien, "but it also needs to be done without causing panic. I think that it would be good to give you both a couple days to make contact with a leader of the people before following this latter suggestion, for if possible, the leadership should be told before the citizenry. I leave the former in your hands, but as for the latter, you can trust it to myself and the members of the temple. We shall warn our people at the appropriate time and also aid them as much as we are able."

"Thank you for your cooperation and your aid, Cirien," Eldarien says, "and for yours as well, Elmariyë."

"We face a threat that far surpasses our native ability to counteract," Cirien observes. "We will do all that we can, but even then, we must turn to prayer before all else. For there lies hope beyond hope and strength beyond strength."

"Yes, in that you speak the truth," Eldarien says softly, running his hands through his hair thoughtfully. Elmariyë looks up at him and sees that the expression on his face betrays great pain—a pain perhaps deeper than any she has witnessed. And in beholding his face and the depth glistening in his eyes, like a mystery hidden at the bottom of an immeasurable pool of water, she feels also his heart. Immediately she knows, in a deep certainty far beyond words, that Eldarien, too, is a pain-bearer, that he carries the hearts of others, the burdens of others, just as does she.

Overwhelmed as she is by this awareness, she is startled when the dialogue continues, and she has to force herself from her own thoughts back to the flow of the conversation.

"These creatures that we witnessed," Eldarien says to Cirien, "do you know what manner of beings they are?"

"I have studied much concerning such things since the rumors first reached Ristfand," replies Cirien. "But I have been unable to confirm the truth of my studies until you came, bringing your account as first-hand witnesses. Now I know that what I had judged to be the case is indeed true—that is, to the limits of my current knowledge. I still do not know everything, and mysteries remain which beg for answers."

"Whatever you can tell us may prove to be of great importance," says Eldarien. "To know the manner of beasts that we fight may help us to discover a way to defeat them."

"Are they not slain by ordinary means?" Cirien asks.

"No, they are, but..."

"I understand. You know not how many there are nor how they are brought into being. We could find ourselves fighting an immense and innumerable force that would be the downfall of our people. I think this is what we all fear, but this is a fear to which we are afraid to give voice."

"Indeed," says Eldarien, "but if there is a way to prevent them, even to cut off their very origin, or their life, at the source..."

"They do not even have life," Cirien says, "not in the true sense of the word. It seems that my knowledge concerning these beasts will indeed help answer some questions within your hearts. You know what they are more than most, since you have seen them with your own eyes and witnessed their terror and their power. But the lore of the past can shed light that experience alone does not give."

"Please, we are listening," Eldarien says.

Elmariyë, who has heard of these creatures, nonetheless feels far out of her depth and tries to cling to the thread of the conversation, having missed the earlier account that Eldarien gave of their path unto this place.

"The druadach, as we call them," Cirien begins, "are not men, nor have they ever been. They are not the dead who have been brought back to life. That much you both sensed. But what then are they? They take the form of men but are not men. They take the form of the living, but they do not live. How is this possible? It is because they are unearthly, wicked creatures born of a dark, forbidden art. They are but one species, for lack of a better word, of abominations that are called the eötenga. Their making is of a power much greater than our own—an ancient evil that lurks in the shadows, ever trying to seduce human hearts, who were made of pure light and for pure light, with the allure of darkness."

"So these are creatures of darkness born of darkness?" asks Eldarien.

"Yes," answers Cirien, "though under all that darkness is to be found a 'forgery' of light. For light alone is life, and these things 'live' indeed, though in twisted manner, in mockery of the light. Dark itself cannot create, it can only destroy. But if there is any guise of creativity, of 'making' imputed to the forces of darkness, that is due not to their ability to create or give life but to their theft of goodness. Whatever made these creatures stole the concept of 'man'—what little, hollow part of it that it could possess—and fashioned it into what we now call druadach."

"But why would it do this?" Rorlain interjects.

"For the very hubris of creating, I suppose," Cirien says. "But also for war, for the destruction of the light and the reign of darkness."

"A terrifying thought," Rorlain sighs.

"Indeed. But there are more forces in this world than those of darkness alone. Many powers are invisible to our eyes, and in their hands, even more than in our own, is the destiny of the world. We speak of the 'gods,' and rightly so, but in the ancient days, they were called 'Anaion,' the Radiant Ones. A great deal has been forgotten over the ages, to the grief of many, but to learn again what has been forgotten may reveal to us a path that has been until now hidden from our eyes."

"How would we do that, if it has been forgotten?" Rorlain asks.

"That is a difficult question to answer," Cirien replies. "Or rather, it is simple: to find those who have not forgotten. The difficulty lies in finding them, if exist they do." He rises from his chair and turns to look out the window, crossing his hands behind his back. The others watch him silently for a long moment. "But there are enough things to occupy us at present," he continues at last. "I will reflect deeply on this and speak with you about anything that I learn or that is made known to my heart. For now, however, let us walk in the way that is clear to us and do all in our power to protect the people of Ristfand."

With these words, their counsels conclude, and Eldarien and Rorlain take their leave. But just as Eldarien is stepping through the threshold of the door—Rorlain having already gone ahead of him—Cirien calls to him. He turns back and sees the old man looking kindly at him. "Yes?" he asks.

"I have seen you before, Eldarien," Cirien says. "You came to the temple in the past, did you not?"

"Many years ago, I did," he answers. "Much has changed since then."

"Worry not," Cirien assures him. "I know what you were then, and I see clearly what you are now. Indeed, I see that the man who prayed in our temple then, the signs of Imperial office marking him out clearly, is the same man who stands before me now, bearing the signs of a man of honor and integrity that shine even more clearly than did the insignias of office that he once bore."

Eldarien nods silently to this and opens his mouth to speak, but he finds no words. Instead, he shares a final silent glance with Cirien and then with Elmariyë who stands at his side. The eyes of both seem to pierce under the veil of his pain and to touch something deep within his heart. And by this gaze, a gaze of love and tenderness, his heart is eased, and the spark that he carries within him is kindled to burn still more strong and true.

† † †

The next day Elmariyë leads Rorlain and Eldarien into the ghetto and to the hospital. Tilliana is seated with her back against the wall and an old blanket draped over her knees, and she looks up as they enter. "Good morning, Tilliana," Elmariyë says, crouching next to her and wrapping her in her arms. Tilliana returns the embrace and then directs her gaze to the two strangers.

She asks, her voice betraying the weakness of her constitution and the sorrow of her heart, "Who are these men?"

"They are travelers from the north," Elmariyë replies, "and they have come to help the people of Ristfand."

"Good morning, my lady," Eldarien says, with a gentle bow, "my name is Eldarien Illomiel."

"And I am Rorlain Farâël, his friend and companion."

Tilliana smiles softly, embarrassed at the courtesy of the two men, a courtesy which she knows—without the need for speech—springs from their reverence for her in her suffering more than from any status to which she may have a claim. "It is good to meet both of you," she replies. "My name is Tilliana Valesa. I apologize that I cannot rise to greet you. I am still recovering from some weeks of illness."

"There is no need for apology," says Eldarien, and he and Rorlain sit on the floor facing her.

"How are you feeling today?" Elmariyë then asks.

"Better still," Tilliana answers. "It seems that you will have me in this life longer yet. I looked right in the face of death, and yet you"—here she momentarily squeezes Elmariyë's hand—"pulled me through the darkness."

"That is good to hear," says Elmariyë. "If you are open to it, Eldarien and Rorlain wish to speak with you in the hopes of preventing more suffering for our people."

"I would be happy to help in whatever way I may. I just wish you were able to speak to Alsenor, my husband, instead. He would know much more than I."

"We understand and have been told of the painful losses that you suffered. You have our deepest sympathies," says Eldarien with compassion, and he allows these words to echo in silence for a moment before continuing. "Elmariyë speaks the truth. We wish to help prevent more suffering from afflicting our people in the conflict that descends upon us in the days to come."

"In what way can I help you?" Tilliana asks.

"We were told that your husband was once the counselor to the hæras. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"How many years ago did he depart from that position?"

"Five. It was shortly after our first child was born."

Seeing the pain in her eyes as she speaks, Eldarien reaches out and takes Tilliana's hand in his own. "I am sorry that we must revisit these painful memories so soon."

"No, no..." she says, holding back tears. "There are good memories, too, and I want to cling to them, even if they are now touched with sorrow."

"Thank you for allowing us, then, to join you in these memories, both the joyful and the sorrowful," says Eldarien, giving her hand a final, tender squeeze and then laying it back upon the blanket. She nods silently to him, and then he continues, "Did he ever speak with you about what he experienced in the position of counselor and what led him to retire?"

"He did. He experienced hypocrisy and lies. He also knew injustice. That is why when he left, he did not just retire from his position, but sought a way to fight back, to resist, and joined with the rebel movements present in Ristfand."

"We will speak of that soon," Eldarien says, "but first I want to ask about those things you mentioned: hypocrisy, lies, and injustice. Did he give you details about what he encountered?"

"The man himself," Tilliana replies. "I mean—the man himself was what he witnessed. Hæras Glendas Medora is a dishonorable person, though I suspect he is not unlike the other jarls in that respect, or at least some of them. However, what I am about to tell you will likely surprise you. I said that my husband left the counselorship and joined the rebellion. But, in fact, Glendas has cooperated with the rebellion in secret for years."

"He has cooperated with the rebellion?" Rorlain asks in surprise. "But did he not command the quelling of the uprising here in Ristfand?"

"He did," Tilliana answers. "And now you see an example of what I meant when I referred to hypocrisy and injustice. He has crushed the first stirrings of open rebellion in the city to give a clear message to all: 'I am sided with the Empire and will tolerate no resistance. My allegiance lies with the Imperial counselor, and, through him, with the legate in Brug'hil and, in fact, with the Emperor himself.' That is what he intends to say and what he wishes people to believe. But he seeks instead only to put the Imperials off guard so that, when the second wave of rebellion comes, much stronger than the first, it will have a greater chance of success."

"Do you think that he will reveal himself openly at that time?" Rorlain asks.

"I do not know. He may aim to play 'behind the scenes' until the very end."

"He acts with great political tact," Eldarien says, "or that, I imagine, is how he justifies it to himself. But he has had his own civilians, indeed the members of his own rebellion, slaughtered in order to keep up a facade. I assume that this is not the first time something like this has happened."

"Not at all," Tilliana says. "My husband had witnessed enough to know the hæras' intent and felt that his position as counselor was nothing but a facade as well. It gave people the impression that Glendas listened to the people—after all Alsenor was meant to be their representative—but to all intents and purposes he listened only to himself. He played friend to the Imperial counselor and made whatever compromises seemed to fit in with his plans, and my husband was there only to keep up the perfect picture."

"What picture was that, exactly?" asks Rorlain.

"The picture of a hæras who is a consummate blend of the Empire and the people, of Væliria and Telmerion, who brings both to peaceful coexistence within his own rule."

"That is what the Empire has wished to accomplish, or rather what we have been led to believe," says Eldarien. "And to the surprise of many, it seems to have been more or less accomplished over the last two hundred years."

"Perhaps that is true to a degree, but it has occurred to the loss of many things that should never have been taken from us," Tilliana adds. "The Telmerion of the past is now lost to us, and if things continue, I fear that even the Telmerion of the present and the future will be lost as well."

"We are going to do all in our power to prevent that," Rorlain assures her, "just as your husband did."

"I am grieved at the actions of the hæras," Eldarien says, "and at his duplicity. Nonetheless, it is hopeful news to us that he intends to support the rebellion against the Empire. How far he shall follow through with this, of course, we do not know. But now we know with whom to speak regarding the protection of the city from attack."

"From attack, you say?" Tilliana asks.

"Yes. Regretfully, we are here now to bring warning to the people that Imperial troops intend to march upon the city," Eldarien explains.

"And what then?"

"Then we all stand and fight," concludes Rorlain. "Though in your condition," he adds, delicately, "it might be wise to flee to the east. I wish for no further harm to come to you."

"Thank you for your concern, but I shall not flee. My health is returning rapidly, and even if I cannot fight with the sword, I will care for those who do so in whatever way I can and will tend to the wounded as I have been so lovingly attended."

"Thank you, Tilliana," Elmariyë says, "for everything."

"I could not in good conscience do anything else," she replies. "But is there anything else that you need?"

Eldarien runs his hand over his beard as he thinks for a moment and then says, "We will need to speak with the hæras and warn him of the coming attack. But if he is living, as you say, a life of hypocrisy, doing so may bring about bad fruits as well as good ones."

"What do you think could happen?" asks Elmariyë.

"I am not sure... It is difficult to judge the mind of a man I have never met. I see not how he could deny such a threat to the very well-being and existence of his city. He may, rather, be forced to reveal his true intentions and to take up arms with the rebellion on behalf of the very people of Ristfand. But that would be the best scenario."

"He may also betray his people and side with the Empire, if he has something to gain," Rorlain adds.

"That is true," agrees Eldarien, "though I suspect he will seek to walk a line somewhere between the two extremes. If I understand anything about hypocrisy, that is its way: to give the appearance of unconditional goodness while underneath lies duplicity."

"May it be that he publicly supports the Empire while secretly relaying the word to the forces of the rebellion?" asks Elmariyë. "Would such a course be feasible?"

"I suppose it is," Tilliana says, "though that would leave the ordinary citizen in the dark."

"It seems clear that either way, good or ill, he is going to bring word to the members of the rebellion," Eldarien says, "and that is why we must speak with him, whatever else may come of it."

"And what about the rest of Ristfand?" Elmariyë asks.

"As Cirien said," Rorlain answers, "the members of the temple can help spread the word."

"However, we also suspect that more people, armed for battle, will be coming to Ristfand from the settlements to the north, hoping to aid in the defense of the city," says Eldarien. "We asked for aid while we passed through the settlements on our journey here. But to come to the aid of a city on the brink of invasion that is not even aware of the threat of attack—that would be deeply disconcerting for those brave souls."

"It seems that these questions will remain unanswered until we speak with the hæras," Rorlain says. "I really do not see what good continuing to deliberate about his possible responses shall bring."

"Then let us go immediately to speak with him," Eldarien says, turning to Rorlain. "We will bring word to you immediately," he continues, looking at Elmariyë, "so that you may know his mind and may act accordingly."

"What a grievous ill it is," Tilliana says, by way of conclusion, "when the citizens have little hope of protection by their lawful leader but instead must fear him."