Читать книгу Elantion - Valentina Massano - Страница 7

Spur Valley, Draelia, in the summer of 324 F.R.

Summer was at hand, bringing with it clear skies and the heat that had been yearned for all throughout the lengthy winter. The warm winds carried a thousand floral fragrances to every corner of Draelia, while the orchards of the Savorfruit Plains offered bountiful cherries and plums prime for the picking. The fields were plowed to be sown, and the wheat was growing hearty and strong, to reach full maturity at summer’s end, when it would be harvested.

The cattle were freed in their pastures, and in their daily lives; following a strangely cold spring, they were grazing with a vengeance. The woods and forests were filled with the cheerful chirping of birds, along with an abundance of rodents and other small creatures. In the highlands, ibexes and roe deer climbed up onto unbelievably precarious rocky walls in search of the tastiest sprout. Winter’s all too ample snowfall continued to adorn the tallest peaks, whipped by the winds that blew through the mountain valleys. These gales were still quite cold, owing precisely to that mantle of pure white.

Spur Valley, a mountain valley characteristic of the Rugged Range, was crossed by a stream, and by the road that followed the stream’s course. The spruce woods made the area a favorite destination of the lumberjacks residing in the villages scattered throughout the valley, as well as of those who hailed from nearby regions. The relatively light wood of those spruces dried easily, and released a great deal of heat when burned, making it ideal kindling for warming up houses.

At the bottom of the valley, the road that ran along the mountain wall forked, and that last tract led to a hidden plateau. On the way down, one could lay their eyes on a building covered by a large dome, which was an unusual sight for such a place. Its stone construction clashed with its surroundings, and a sinister atmosphere suffused it. It served as the refuge of a substantial group of mages who had broken away from Draelia’s High Order of Magic and Alchemy, and proclaimed themselves the Fellowship of the Veil, several years after the Great Reconciliation.

More than two centuries had passed since the discovery of a mine full of peculiar never-before-seen green crystals. Disputes arose between the High Order of Magic and Alchemy, and the Symeris Order of Arcane Scholars, as both wanted to take credit for discovering their qualities. The crystals were carefully extracted in small quantities, and the mages devoted themselves to their study. Yet they soon encountered serious difficulties, and at a certain point, all of the mages who had busied themselves examining these crystalline formations began to exhibit madness and paranoia, prompting the High Order to suspend their investigations. The Archmages limited access to the extraction chamber by casting an illusion spell, and by stationing a guardian golem that would take form from the rock and dust should anyone tread upon the magic glyphs.

That being said, some stubborn mages of noteworthy talent managed to avoid the glyphs and sneak into the mine, so as to continue extracting the crystals. They started gathering in secret to study the stones’ bizarre properties. Many succumbed to madness and death, but through their sacrifices, the mages came to understand how the crystals worked. The Fellowship of the Veil was formed in that period, and remained hidden and forgotten for a long time. Not even the Archmages of Olennon remembered them.

The mages of the Fellowship discovered that the crystals had to be stabilized before they could be used, feeding each of them with a person’s life essence. A large quantity of stabilized crystals, when gathered in the same place, would begin to form small temporal distortions. Before long, the mages realized that those small, floating rifts of light were slowly growing, and that strange whispers were coming from the other side. The voices became more and more substantial, and echoed in the minds of the mages, addicting and enslaving them to the whispers. They became unable to perform the simplest of tasks without receiving their instructions. The Priestesses, guided by the potent Sight of the seers and the High Priestess, directed those mages to commit heinous acts, including atrocious murders. They taught the mages the perfect ritual to feed the crystals, and helped them choose the perfect victims. Quite often, these poor unfortunate souls ended up being children up to fifteen years old, as they were considered the purest fuel.

After more than a century, the ever-increasing number of crystals had transformed those rifts into a huge portal, beyond which Fellowship mages could view an arid, foggy world of grey.

At the same time, on Alceas (the other side of the portal), the tulvaren legions were ready to cross the threshold into Elantion for the third time. King Athal waited to receive the latest news from his Commanders, surrounded by all his stern and fearsome family members. As soon as everything was ready, Athal spurred his horse, and the horns sounded the advance. The immense column of soldiers generated a deafening din as they marched. It was a warm and clear June day on Elantion, very different from the smoky and gloomy Alceas. Athal passed through the portal, and his horse’s hooves tread upon the stone-slab floor of the Fellowship temple. The Third Tulvaren Invasion of Elantion had commenced.