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From: hsexauer@muskingum.edu (Rapunzel)
Subject: [Legacy] The One to Come
Message-ID: <1994Aug31.193947.1@muskingum.edu>
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Organization: Muskingum College
Date: Wed, 31 Aug 1994 23:39:47 GMT



        Several hours later, the first offshoot from the main stream
became visible in the dim light.  It led off to the right into the
darkness after a sharp turn.  Tierge called to Aleric, asking him to
come forward and look at it.  He rose from his place where he rested
after having given over his watch to Tierge and Elcoran.

        "This has been the first branch from the main vein we've come
to.  Do we take it?" Tierge asked, eyes on the branching some twenty
yards away.

        Aleric looked to Elcoran.  "Can you tell if it goes in the
right direction?  We'll have to use trial and error with these
otherwise, because we have no concrete directions to follow," he
cautioned.  Elcoran seemed to stare thoughtfully at the opening, grey
eyes unfocussed.

        At length, he gave up.  "No.  I can't lead us here.  Something
seems to be blocking my senses," the youth answered.  He glanced at
Aleric apologetically, sadness echoed in his features.

        "No matter, my young friend," Aleric said.  He put a hand on
the lad's shoulder.  "If you do have an inkling of a direction at some
future point though, don't hesitate to suggest it."  The Lyorn furrowed
his brow as he gazed at the passage ahead, weighing the prospects of
either continuing or taking the offshoot.

        He didn't like the idea of guessing arbitrarily, and yet there
was little choice than doing just that.  Doubt clouded his mind, making
the decision difficult.  When he felt himself to be entirely helpless
in his own mind, a strong shaft of force pierced the clouds and reached
his thoughts.  <Do not let your enemy make your decisions for you, my
son,> a soft voice chided.  Aleric's heart leaped as he recognized the
presence.  <Remember you are the Nilsangehir.  You have power beyond
your realization, only part of which is inherent in your sword.  Use it
well, and it will not let you go astray.>

        The presence left his mind with a final tendril of strength and
encouragement.  Freed now, of the clouding influence of the Shekiren,
Aleric concentrated on the advice his goddess had bestowed.  He opened
his mind and searched instinctively with a sense he previously had not
been aware of.  From the course ahead he felt a faint flicker of
something he could only describe as 'rightness'.  There was nothing
from the side channel they were approaching.  On impulse, Aleric
reached behind his shoulder and touched the warm hilt of Xel'ha.  It
seemed the sword eagerly came to life under his fingers and hummed
almost inaudibly.  The sense of rightness from the forward channel took
on a greater intensity while he touched Xel'ha.

        From the rear, Ruel called softly ahead to Aleric, mindful of
the four sleepers.  "Shall I keep us on course or turn into the branch?
We're nearly on it now," he added when Aleric didn't reply immediately.

        Aleric smiled unexpectedly.  He turned to look at the valeman
braced next to the helm.  "No, stay on this course.  I'll let you know
when we come to the channel we need."

        Ruel's answering grin lit his face and brought a twinkle of
merriment to his dark eyes.  "Aye cap'n," he chuckled and turned the
tiller to send the skiff slightly to the left as they passed the side
channel branching off to the right.

        Somewhat uncharacteristically from what Aleric was accustomed
to, Elcoran nodded gravely when he caught the Lyorn's eye.  A small,
secretive smile played on the youth's lips.  "Now you understand," he
said mysteriously.  Aleric looked baffled, wondering what was behind
this strange change in the elf's manner.  "You don't need me to guide
you, you feel it yourself, don't you?"

        Realizing that the young elf was aware of what had passed that
led to his decision, the warrior suddenly understood at least a part of
Elcoran's meaning.  Questions long hidden since his first meeting with
his sister's associates surfaced in his mind again.  "I think I know
now how you led us back at the ravine.  You really can't explain it in
words, can you?"  Elcoran shook his head wordlessly.  "And it reminds
me at the same time that you were bitten by the ghouls even as I was.
How is it that you weren't affected by the venom?" he asked
suspiciously.

        The lad's grey eyes widened in feigned confusion.  "I don't
understand.  I was never bitten, only scratched by them."

        "You can't evade me that easily this time, Elcoran. Your uncle
is asleep and won't come to distract attention from you," Aleric
pointed out.  He faced the elf squarely and took him by the shoulders,
looking down at him sternly.  "I've known for a long time that there's
something not quite normal about you, yet every time I start thinking
about it overmuch I seem to lose interest.  I know for a fact that you
were bitten, because I watched one bite you myself.  What are you that
the poison that nearly killed me has no effect on you?"

        His face twisted uncomfortably under the Lyorn's scrutiny.
Elcoran dropped his eyes and looked away, not replying immediately.
After a minute, he said softly, "I can't tell you what you wish to
know.  I don't know exactly myself.  I've always been conscious of the
fact that I am different from other elves.  Even my own family."  He
shifted his eyes to stare at Durstrin, sleeping quietly off to one side
near Jaerodyn.  Aleric followed his gaze, remembering a discussion he'd
had with Elcoran's uncle early on.  Durstrin had seemed to know several
things, but had refused to say anything.

        "What does Durstrin know of this matter?" the Lyorn asked.

        Elcoran sighed.  "He knows a great deal about me, but even he
doesn't know precisely what I am.  My father... did not remain long.
It was left to my mother and her brother to raise me."  As he gazed
steadily up at Aleric, the Lyorn had the impression this young man was
far from what he seemed.  An air of ageless knowledge was reflected in
the grey eyes that met Aleric's blue ones so candidly.

        The longer he looked down at Elcoran and considered the import
of the youth's words, the more Aleric felt that he was wrong to press
the lad.  His hands dropped away, releasing the elf.  He nodded
gravely, "So be it.  I'll not ask again unless you wish to speak
further about this."

        "Thank you, Nilsangehir."  Aleric's eyebrows shot up in
surprise at his use of the title.  "I pledge to you that there is
nothing I would do willingly to harm any in this group, so my presence
here is not a threat.  What my uncle said at the outset was true.
There were reasons why it was necessary for me to leave my home, but
those reasons are not a threat to either your quest or our friends."
Elcoran offered no further explanations, nor did Aleric ask for them.
The Lyorn watched as Elcoran went to wake Kieriah for her shift, and
settle himself for his own well deserved rest.

        Kieriah stretched, cracking a number of joints as she rose.
She looked around distastefully at the narrow channel, and her shiver
had nothing to do with the chill settling in as the craft moved deeper
into the mountains.  Seeing her brother awake and standing again in the
prow, the Lyorn girl carefully stepped over the other sleeping bodies
and made her way to his side.

        He put an arm around her and hugged her impulsively.  "How are
you holding up Kia?" he asked soliciously, knowing her aversion to
enclosed places.

        "Better than I thought I'd be," she replied truthfully.  "But
if this continues for too long I'm likely to go a little nuts."  She
smiled up at Aleric a bit, trying to put on a good face for his sake.

        "If it makes you feel any better, the channel is beginning to
open out some.  The walls are farther apart and the ceiling higher than
it had been.  I think we're coming to some sort of chamber ahead.  The
echoes are coming back later and with a different tone," he said.  He
had watched her carefully since entering the tunnel, hoping she could
cope with an extended journey through narrow places.  He looked down at
the top of her head, unerringly finding the white lock that wound its
way through her thick braid.  Despite her obvious self-reliance and
maturity, he still felt the urge to protect his little sister, no
matter how many times she reminded him she was no longer so little.

        She sighed in relief. "Good, I was beginning to fear we were
going to be sailing around in tiny rivulets forever.  I'll be glad when
we're finally on solid ground again too," Kieriah added as an
afterthought.  She slid an arm loosely around Aleric's waist and rested
her head in the hollow of his shoulder.

        He chuckled softly.  "I know, dearheart.  I'm rather tired of
sailing myself, but I can't say as I'm eager to land.  That means we're
that much closer to the Shekiren and Euskaya."

        "What are we going to do once we get there Aleric?  Have you
any idea where Xel'eman is or how to find it?"

        He paused a moment, deep in thought.  Just ahead Tierge's
magelight showed another cross passage coming up.  Aleric reached out
with his inner senses again and probed its depth.  The sense of
rightness was stronger down the cross passage than on the main one.
The Lyorn signalled to Ruel to turn into the new channel opening into
the left wall when they came to it.  He was becoming more adept in
using these senses, practicing while he had the leisure to do so.

        "I believe I know where it is supposed to be, but not where
that place is located.  The clues were given to us in the prophecy, and
I think there were specific instructions given to regain the sword,"
Aleric answered slowly.  The words of the prophecy coursed through his
mind, familiar now after much repetition.  He'd rehearsed it many times
throughout the journey, analyzing and puzzling out the cryptic phrases.

        "Which parts were those?  I don't remember hearing anything
that pointed directly to something we needed to do."  The Lyorn girl
drew her brows together, piecing together what she remembered of the
prophecy.  "I remember something about the heart of the sickened land,
and a place where 'the hunted's hope' slept.  But who are the hunted
ones?"

        "I'd say they are the Lyorns themselves.  Tevore said Euskaya
devoted a lot of time chasing down the remaining survivors of the clans
after the war.  The Lyorns scattered across the seas and continents to
avoid her.  And their hope would almost have to be Xel'eman.  The
celestial blade supposedly was the embodiment of the tribe's soul.  It
derived its power from us and provided us with protection and unity in
return."

        Aleric felt the change in his sister's expression through the
skin of his shoulder.  He glanced down at her, seeing the frown on her
lovely face.  She was staring ahead watching the water slide under
their skiff.  At last Kieriah asked, "Tell me the prophecy again.  I
think I'm forgetting something.  I can't decide what it is, but there's
something we're forgetting here."

        Aleric obediently began to recite, his voice falling into the
measured cadences of one repeating something well-learned:
 
       "The wounds to the Lyorn clans from the Sundered are grave,
        But in the hands of the Lastblood shall the fiery blade
        Purify the soul and heal the breach.

        In the heart of the sickened land lies the Sundered's Keep:
        Look to the Hall of Ages where the hunted's hope doth sleep.
        Therein may the Youngblood find the fate of each.

        When comes the dark mistress for whom the sword will cry,
        Seek then to win the talisman from neath the evil's eye--
        With Lyorn blood alone to cleanse celestial blade benighted.

        And defeating the Sundered shall the Lastblood stand
        To rejoin the Youngblood in restoring the ancient clans
        By the power of the sacred blades united."

         Raising her head to catch her brother's eye, Kieriah said
triumphantly, "There it is!  I know what it was now. Two things
really."

         "Oh?  And what have we been forgetting?" Aleric questioned.

         "To begin with, it says that the celestial blade must be
cleansed of evil.  And even more, it has to be Lyorn blood that purges
the evil.  What I fear is that the Lyorn blood is in the nature of a
sacrifice," she said, eyes wide and unwavering.  Her mouth twisted as
though her next words were repugnant.  "And I don't think I need to
remind you that the only Lyorns here are the three of us."

         "No Kia.  Surely it can't mean that.  Prophecies are often
obscure, there has to be another meaning for that passage," he
responded quickly.  However he might deny it, he had the distinct
feeling from his inner senses that she might be right.

         "But that isn't the only part that didn't sound right in my
ears.  When we do find the celestial blade, will we be able to take
it?" the Lyorn girl mused.

         "Why do you ask that?"

         She shook her head.  "I don't know.  But it doesn't mention
anything about the Lastblood finding the blade.  It definitely said
Youngblood would find it."

         "So what does that mean?" Aleric was starting to understand
what she was getting at, and he disliked the sound of it with each
passing minute.

         "It means that we can't get Xel'eman without Chiyasangehir.
He's the one who has to take the blade.  I think that you were to be
instrumental in getting him to the celestial blade and protecting him
until he could take it back.  Without your help, he'd never get there,
but you can't rescue Xel'eman without his help.  From what you've said,
it sounds like the two blades are linked rather closely, and it makes
sense that the destinies of Nilsangehir and Chiyasangehir are just as
closely bound."

         Aleric rubbed his eyes with his free hand.  She made a lot of
sense, and he wasn't surprised it was Kieriah who had thought of this.
She always had been quicker than either of her brothers intellectually.
"Sometimes I wish you weren't nearly as intelligent as you are, dear.
I thought plans were going rather well until you brought that up," he
sighed.  "In other words, all this has been rather useless.  Why didn't
that old warlock think of this before he sent me on this fool's
mission?  After all, _he's_ had six hundred years to figure out the
prophecy!"

         "Don't be so sure it's futile," Kieriah disagreed.  She
reached up to touch Aleric's cheek and hold his attention.  "We can
continue our quest, and you and Chiyasangehir will stand side by side
to defeat the Shekiren as was prophesied."

         "And will he be there when we arrive?" Aleric asked bitterly.
He was still thinking of Kieriah's interpretations of the prophecy in
regard to their present company.

         "I think you know the answer to that Aleric.  I realized it
some time ago, and I can't believe that you haven't come to the same
conclusion, whether or not you know it consciously."  She stared at
him, watching his expression.  Aleric's thoughts were almost visible as
understanding flitted across his face.

         "Ch'hir.  Chiyasangehir," he breathed.  Kieriah nodded slowly.
He had subconsciously known it all along, but never thought about it
long enough to consciously make the connection.  Hope burst through his
mind in a flare of brilliance.  He began to laugh quietly.  Kieriah
quirked an eyebrow, wondering what had struck her brother as amusing.
He explained with a single sentence, "The Shekiren are in for a nasty
surprise I would imagine."

         Echoing through the tunnel and into the cavern opening around
them, their laughter helped dispel the gathering sensation of
oppression building all around them.


-- 
Heather Sexauer
Muskingum College
hsexauer@muskingum.edu

	
	Every normal man must be tempted, at times, to spit on his
	hands, hoist the black flag, and begin slitting throats.

					-- H.L. Mencken