Chapter 13 Ventus

“Then let it be known, the challenge has been met,” Imra said loudly.

“We shall have it here,” Solianna finished.

Mathew turned around and saw that the room was indeed large and being devoid of other people made it a suitable place to have a fight. Even without being told, the guards that had stood on either side of the large red carpet that led up to the three thrones turned and walked towards the far wall. Ryul stepped forward, putting a few more feet between himself and The Three Stars; while Mathew stepped back so there was about ten feet between himself and Ryul. The spectators, Goffrey, Ilythyra and Cameron stepped back until they were another five feet behind Mathew. As Mathew flexed his muscles, waiting for the start Goffrey stepped forward and leaned in to whisper something.

“They do not take us seriously. A victory here would be very helpful if we are to find the one to wield the power of the wind. Keep in mind that he is the next First Star, so do what you must to win but try not to hurt him severely.”

After Mathew nodded his acknowledgment, Goffrey slipped back beside the other spectators.

“Ryul will not win,” Cameron said in hushed tone.

Even before Goffrey could ask what he meant Solianna stood to her feet and ordered them to begin. Mathew focused his mind. He did not enjoy being taunted and that, coupled with the urgency in Goffrey’s voice told him he had to take this fight very seriously. That meant pretending this was a fight for his life. Closing his eyes he imagined his battles in Daswin Forest and those at the Tobran Pass. As the images flashed through his mind he remembered what it was like to have those thirsty looking blades being swung towards him, looking to satiate their need with his blood. As he opened his eyes, the world around him seemed to fade away; leaving him and the young elf. He could feel every inch of himself. It was almost as if every cell of his body was aware of its place and they all echoed his preparedness for battle. Clenching his fists, he raised his hands to the middle of his chest. In his bouts with weapon wielding opponents, he had noticed that his usual stance of keeping his fists tucked under his chin was too high, since they liked to aim for the body. As he stepped forward, prepared to fight, Ryul laughed derisively.

“He does not even use a sword, he fights like an animal,” they young elf said loudly, ensuring everyone could share in his mockery.

Ryul grasped the grip of his sword and pulled the blade free in a smooth motion. It was like nothing Mathew had ever seen before. It was much slimmer than the long swords that Ulric or Goffrey used. It was somewhat like a sabre in that it seemed to have a single edge, but it was almost totally straight save for a small curve at the end. Ryul placed both hands on the grip, turned the blade downwards at an angle and charged in. Mathew did not even have to think twice; he had seen that move many times before. It preceded an upwards diagonal slash. Ryul did nothing to surprise him. As the blade came up Mathew stepped forward and blocked it with his left vambrace. He was surprised when the blade impacted his armour covered arm; it had none of the force that Ulric’s swings had. For an instant, he ignored the presence of the blade and he stepped in, firing a quick straight that landed in the middle of Ryul’s face. Before the elf could respond he back stepped to a safe distance. The pain of the blow was evident, as anger washed over Ryul’s face. He turned his sword straight into the air and clutching it close to his ear before charging again. The beginning of the move may have been foreign, but Mathew surmised that it was a downwards vertical slash. Again, Ryul followed through exactly as Mathew expected. Crossing both hands over his head Mathew easily stopped the blade. Before Ryul could register what happened, he forcefully separated his arms causing Ryul’s sword to be deflected to the side. Mathew did not allow him to regain his footing; instead, he stepped in and delivered a power right hook to the young elf’s face. The bone jarring blow staggered him as his head whipped to his right. Mathew took the advantage, stepped forward and grasped his sword arm at the wrist with his left arm.

“Vaehou tir!” Ryul spat at him.

Ignoring him, Mathew grabbed his collar with his right hand and with a swift sweep with his heel both he and Ryul were tumbling to the floor. Ryul refused to release his grip on his sword even as Mathew struggled to hold him in position while wrenching it from his grasp. Finally, Mathew got the upper hand and was able to move his body up, allowing him to press his knee unto the young elf’s wrist. He shrieked in pain but refused to give in. With only one hand to protect his face, and his sword arm secure, Mathew’s ploughed through his defences, slamming blow after blow into his face. He tried his hardest to block with the free arm but it was to no avail. Mathew, who was almost sitting on his chest now had almost complete control over him. After a half a dozen or so his face began to swell badly and blood seeped from his cheek and nose.

“Stop!” Solianna screamed as she jumped from her seat and ran to her now bloodied son. The echoing scream in the mostly empty throne room was enough to get Mathew’s attention. As he saw the concerned mother hurrying towards him, he got to his feet and backed away, exhaling. Seeing her son’s beaten face, Solianna was almost brought to tears as she kneeled beside him. She turned towards the spectators and begged for help. At first, they moved to aid her but before they could even cover the distance the drum of the footsteps of the guards coming from the far wall caused them to realise to whom the appeal had been directed. The guards marched passed them and four of them lifted Ryul off the floor, taking him through an exit on the left side of the room with Solianna following closely behind them.

“Very well done,” said Imra. “It is clear that Galdas has chosen a strong warrior for the task but that does not mean you are exempt from our previous arrangement.”

“We would not have it any other way,” Goffrey responded cheerily.

“We will see to it that you have the best, for your stay,” Aelrue said as she stood to her feet.

Before she could take more than a few steps, Cameron ran forward and knelt before Imra.

“I wish to volunteer to keep watch over them for the five day period,” he said, his tone humble.

“I am not certain, you have been with the humans the longest, your vision may be clouded,” Imra said, doubt touching her voice.

“I do not think that will be a problem Tias Marosis, Cameron has shown himself quite capable; he is a Mai’dan,” Ilythyra said firmly.

“Well if you have faith in him, then that is enough for me. What say you, Aelrue?”

“I am sure he will do his best,” Aelrue said as she stepped down from the platform.

She moved gracefully towards Mathew. Being in the presence of royalty had made him very nervous the entire time he was there but having Aelrue only a foot away made the feeling multiply many times over. He clenched his teeth in an effort to stop the uneasiness that welled up within his belly. Aelrue’s movements were so slight, that even as she crossed the last foot between them he could not hear her steps. She gently took his hands and turned them face up and stared at them for a few moments. After seemingly finding the answer to her unspoken question she looked up into Mathew’s eyes and smiled gently. Without a word, she turned away from him and left the throne room by the same exist that the guards and Solianna had gone through before.

“I do believe Aelrue will take care of your stay, so I would ask that you go back to the Entrance Hall and wait until we have made the necessary preparations. For reasons that should be clear we cannot allow you to go back to your steeds without Cameron being present,” Imra said, her tone level.

“Yes, we understand. I am sure that we will be fine with whatever you provide. And in that case the only thing we require at this moment is a single possession of Mathew’s,” Goffrey responded.

Goffrey’s statement brought Mathew much confusion for the only possession he could think of worth taking at that moment was the shard of wind they had carried with them. He was further perplexed as given the elves negative reaction to his claim, he did not expect them to allow him to take the shard with him. Thankfully, Goffrey did not leave Mathew to figure it out for himself as he turned to him and spoke.

“Mathew, go to the tastir and retrieve your tome. We will need it,” he said quietly.

This was by no means the answer he was expecting; he did not understand why he needed his tome. It would be good for him to get some reading done, especially given that he would have not much to do for the next five days but Mathew doubted that casual reading to pass the time was Goffrey’s intention. Irrespective of his lack of understanding, he stepped forward to Imra and gave a small bow before he turned and left the throne room. He was not sure if that was what he was supposed to do, but given the circumstances it seemed better to do it than not to. As he left, Cameron was only a few steps behind him. Goffrey bowed to Imra as well and thanked her for seeing them on such short notice before he left for the Entrance Hall. Within a few minutes Mathew was returning with his tome in hand. It had taken a little longer than he had expected since Cameron had ensured to inspect the tome before allowing Mathew to carry it back with him. Only after the elf had scrutinised it, guaranteeing it was but a simple book did he allow the young champion to return. Mathew re-entered the palace to find Goffrey awaiting him sitting in one of the plush chairs they had passed before. His mildly weary body thanked him as he sat, practically sinking into the feather soft seat. The look of relaxation must have been evident on his face for as soon as he sat back, Cameron could not help but comment.

“Enjoy it, this room was made just for human guests. You will not find these anywhere else,” Cameron said with a smirk.

Mathew was too busy enjoying the feeling of the wear leaving his body to heed Cameron’s words. For about half an hour they sat in relative silence until another young female elf came in.

“Your rooms are ready but they are not here, in Is Chaehas, they will be at Is Faerondal Arundal,” she said, speaking to none of them in particular.

“Thank you,” Cameron said as he stood and bowed to the elf that had brought them the news.

She returned the bow and left the room.

“Where will we be staying?” Mathew inquired.

“It would seem Sa’maros Aelrue has taken a liking to you. She has offered to allow you to stay at her home,” Cameron responded.

“I could not quite understand what she was saying when she was telling us where our lodgings would be,” Goffrey interjected.

“Our city is made of three circular areas held together by,” Cameron paused, not only to search for the best word to use but to also gesticulate, in an effort to make his illustration more clear. “A triangular area, in the centre. That area, where we are now, is called Is Chaehas, in your tongue it would be,” again he had to stop, searching for the correct word, “The Heart.”

“Ah,” Goffrey said, nodding his understanding.

“The three circles are known as Roli, and are named after the three original elven clans or thutalis” Cameron continued.

“The three clans that the Du’maros each represent,” Goffrey commented.

“Yes, we shall be going to Roli Faerondal, which is named after the Thutal Faerondal, of which, Sa’maros Aelrue is a member.”

The waves of elvish made Mathew’s head spin. He was struggling to take in all of the new sights and sounds, and now the barrage of another language just made everything worse. He bent over slightly and rubbed his eyes, not sure, but hoping that the massage would help to alleviate the slight ache that had developed behind them. Looking over, Goffrey noticed his ward’s discomfort and asked Cameron if they could make haste to their place of stay. Cameron led the way as the three got up and left Is Soma’dhi to their waiting mounts.

As Mathew got close he quickly noticed that his belongings had been removed from his mount.

“Where are my things?” He turned around and blurted at Cameron.

“You have the one thing that you will be allowed to keep for the next five days with you. We cannot allow you to have the rest,” he said authoritatively atop his horse.

“So, how will we get on without them?” Mathew rebutted.

“We will provide you with everything you need until the time has passed,” Cameron responded.

Mathew was already regretting agreeing to the conditions that the elven rulers had stipulated. He was in a foreign land, listening to an alien tongue and surrounded by beings that looked somewhat like men but most certainly where not. To top it all off, he had now lost his clothes and everything else he had taken with him. It was sheer self control that allowed him to keep his mouth closed and climb unto his tastir instead of walking over to Cameron and punching him in the face out of exasperation. That and the thought of fighting the enigmatic elf was a little, frightening. With the thought of at least putting this city as it stood behind him he followed Cameron. All around him, the elves of high standing, the residents of Is Chaehas, watched him. They were almost as surprised by his presence as he would have been amazed by his surroundings had he not been in such a sour mood. His jaw set and his eyes locked straight ahead they journeyed to one of the walls of the city’s centre and passed through it, into one of the much larger circular areas, Roli Faerondal.

Here the elves were not dressed as finely. Their robes were not by any means plain but were not as finely made or as lavishly decorated. He thought these were probably the elvish equivalent of peasants but if he were to be honest with himself, even though he was not looking around much, they seemed to be better off than the people of Belanor. The houses were all well made, with tile roofs; an architectural feature usually left for the largest, important buildings back in his hometown. The dwellings appeared to be about the same size as those in Belanor, unlike the mostly two storey or taller buildings that filled The Heart. They weaved their way through the city staying fairly close to the outer wall. Soon they came to what one could easily surmise was their destination. The building before them was much larger than the rest. It did not go up, like the buildings of The Heart but instead, was a sprawling one storey complex, with what, as he looked closely, appeared to be a small pond inside of it. It too, like The Sky Palace, was surrounded by a wall, though this was nothing like the fortification around the palace. Being only five feet or so tall it seemed more for aesthetics than protection. Again, there were guards posted at the front. They did not even move as Cameron approached, allowing him through onto a small bridge. The bridge went across what he was now sure was a small pond as his steed lumbered over it. Looking down, he could even see fish darting about. At the front of the house there were over a dozen elves, standing still in the warm sun, a pleasant tableau; awaiting their arrival. As they got near and dismounted, all of the elves save the one that stood at the centre bowed.

“Kyni Tys,” they all said in unison.

Cameron stepped forward and bowed to the elf at the centre. Seeing his act of esteem, Goffrey followed suit and Mathew did as well.

“This is Maro’to Illa’nor, daughter of Sa’maors Aelrue,” Cameron said, his respect obvious by his tone.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” she said softly and with a slight bow of her head.

Mathew quickly noted that, like her mother she also had lilac hair; she, however, carried only a single off centre silver streak. There was also something else that jumped out at him immediately. Taking a quick look around his impression was confirmed. All of the female elves around him were tiny creatures, being eight or more inches shorter than he was. Illa’nor on the other hand, stood only about five inches below him. Her skin was also different, unlike the other elves who were all light in complexion, hers was a gorgeous olive tone.

“Your rooms have been prepared inside,” she said twisting to her right and extending her arm before twirling gracefully and walking inside.

The others that were out to meet them, unlike their mistress stood still. Cameron understood what they were waiting for and walked towards the wooden screen door that Illa’nor had opened. Mathew, still fuming, followed Goffrey’s back as they made their way up the three small wooden steps on their way inside. At the door Illa’nor stopped and twisted to face them. Cameron, immediately comprehending what was implied, walked to the right of the entrance way and began removing his footwear. Goffrey, not missing a step followed quickly. Mathew, was unsure of why he was doing what he was doing, imitated the Secundus. Their feet bear, they went back to the entrance and made their way in. As they entered, all the elves that had been standing outside waiting formed two lines and slowly processed in after them. The entrance opened to a large area that, by the looks of it, seemed to Mathew to be a sitting room of some kind. He would have been sure it was a sitting room if it had chairs of some kind or a table. Instead, it had what appeared to be a large square of wood on the ground in the middle of the room, the purpose of which eluded him, surrounded by cushions that someone had obviously left out. That was what he thought at first glance. But then he noticed that the wood was not just any piece of lumber. It had been meticulously varnished to bring out a beautiful sheen and the cushions that were left out, were not lying in a haphazard manner but arranged in a regular order around it. He did not have much time to add this to the list of things that he had to ponder as they were ushered to their left, exiting the large room down a corridor. While they made their way down the hall Mathew summarily realised that the walls were not wood or stone or any other material he would have expected. Instead they were made of a white material that at first glance appeared paper like but could not have been since, unlike the windows, little light penetrated. Within a few moments, they came to a door on the left. Instead of swinging agape as he was accustomed to, it slid open, much like the doors to the outside had.

“This will be your room, Goffrey,” Illa’nor said, stumbling a little on the colonel’s name.

The colonel thanked her graciously and turned into the room. Illa’nor shut the door behind him before continuing down the hall a few more feet and pausing at a door on the right of the hall.

“For you, Cameron,” she said before opening the door.

He reached out and grasped her hands gently.

“Sal Eru,” he said as he bowed until his head touched her hands.

Coming back up, he turned into the room and she shut the door behind him as well. She again made her way down the hall, coming to another door on her left. This was clearly for him.

“And this, is for you Mathew,” she said with a small smile.

“Thank you very much,” he replied, trying to sound as polite as he could.

Turning into his room he was quite surprises by what he saw. In the far corner there was a large mattress on the floor, covered in fine linens. Against the left wall close to him, there was another large piece of wood somewhat like the other he had seen out in the first room he had passed through. It was, however, much smaller than the other and had a vase of flowers on the left side of it. He walked in and after placing his tome beside the vase of flowers, knelt unto the mattress before twisting himself and falling into it. Despite being on the floor, it was indeed very comfortable; by far the most comfortable thing he slept on since he left Belanor. As weary as he was, physically from the travel and mentally from the constant bombardment of foreign concepts, he quickly fell into a deep slumber.

It was not until a rap on the door startled him awake did he even move from the position he first lay in. He stumbled around in the dim light of his room, trying to make it to the door. Finding it, he slid it open to find Illa’nor, standing on the other side to greet him.

“Dinner will be served shortly, I believe you should wash before then,” she said with a grin at his dishevelled appearance.

“But I have no clothes,” he mumbled.

“They have been provided for you. If you would follow me, I will take you to the bath.”

As Mathew stepped out into the corridor and looked about him he saw that the dull light that filled his room was coming from a line of what looked like lanterns that hung from the roof. They were encased in paper cylinders, which gave the entire hallway a soft glow that was devoid of the shifting shadows that was normally a feature of any room lit by candlelight. He followed her down the hallway, going further away from Goffrey’s room, towards what seemed to be the rear of the house. As he strolled down he could not help but notice that unlike the slender features of the other elf females he had seen before Illa’nor seemed a little, plumper. A characteristic that was presently evident by the delightful swell in her dress that he could observe from behind. He had had little time to think of this less serious side of life given the events of the past few weeks and was happy for the distraction. Taking his time, he enjoyed the little he could see even as the air became cooler, as they stepped out into the late spring air. Before he had even noticed, he was about thirty feet behind the house, standing in front of a smaller building. Before him were two doors; Illa’nor stopped, turned around and pointed to the door on the right.

“Inside you will find the bath, please enjoy it, but do not tarry too long or you will miss dinner,” she said with soft smile before stepping around him and walking away.

Mathew stepped up to the door, opened it and was surprised to find a thin veil of steam awaiting him. Inside was a pool of crystal clear water, surrounded by stone walls, large enough to fit at least ten people. It seemed, that tonight, he had it all to himself. Stripping down, he walked over to the pool and stepped in gingerly. He was pleasantly surprised to find that much like the steam that surrounded him, the water itself was quite warm. Sliding in, he found that if he sat, the water came up to his neck. The nap he had taken had been invigorating but this was something else entirely. The warmth of the water, combined with the buoyancy that it provided, relaxed his muscles in a way he never thought possible. Finding an inclined area of the wall, he lay back and let the weariness slip away. He lay there for about fifteen minutes before he decided that he had had enough of the experience and was ready to clean himself. Looking around he saw something through the haze that filled the room at the far end of the bath. He stood up fully, so the water was about waist height and strode over to it. There he found pieces of linen, one small, clearly a washcloth and the other much larger, which he surmised he would use to dry himself. Beside these he found, what he suspected, were the clothes they intended for him to wear. He chuckled to himself just thinking for a minute before the joke became sour in his mouth as he thought about redressing in the dirty clothes he had worn to Allu’ron. Resigning himself to the idea, he picked up the washcloth and washed himself thoroughly. When he was finished, he stepped out of the water, onto the stone wall and used the larger linen to dry himself. Picking up his clothes he dressed himself as best he could. Thankfully it was fairly simple; first he got into something that was akin to a long sleeved silk shirt, which it was not since the sleeves were a few inches short. Over this he slipped the robe like garment, that he had seen many of them wear, onto his shoulders and tied the waist band. It fit fairly well if not for the fact that it was a little tight across the chest and shoulders. His feet were also provided for, in the form of a pair of sandals. He slipped into them, and they too fit, somewhat, being a little too small. He felt more than a little odd being covered in this soft, somewhat tight ensemble but he ignored it, being as relaxed as he was and made his way out of the bath. He opened the door and followed the footpath back to the rear entrance of the house. This time he took the time to look around and see the flowers that were a part of the garden that was around him; a fact that had eluded him. He could not help but grin a little as he remembered Illa’nor but that grin was immediately removed as he returned to the house to find her waiting for him at the door.

“I trust the bath was to your liking,” she asked.

“Yes it was very good,” he responded.

Stepping down the stairs she looked at his sleeves and tugged at them a little.

“It seems, you are a bit bigger than those we are used to having,” she said with a grin. “No matter, I will have a new set made by tomorrow afternoon. I cannot have my mother’s guests in clothes that do not fit well,” she said before turning back into the house.

Instead of turning left and going back towards Mathew’s room Illa’nor turned right and followed another corridor that led to the front of the house. Before they actually came to the front, another room appeared. In it, Goffrey and Cameron were waiting, kneeling around another large piece of wood; unlike the one that they had passed when they first entered or the one in his room, this one was a long rectangle surrounded with dozens of cushions. The two rows of plates along the large hunk of timber made its purpose painfully clear to him. It was a dining table. The conspicuous lack of chairs inside the home had before baffled him but now it became clear. The elves had their meals much closer to the floor than he was accustomed to. Illa’nor sauntered up to the head of the table and knelt. On her right, sat Goffrey and on her left was Cameron. Mathew walked over to Goffrey and was about to take a seat when he could not help but notice a snicker coming from the elder swordsman. Mathew knelt down and inquired of him in a whisper as to what was so amusing. Goffrey responded with a broad grin stretching his face.

“Your clothes, you look like a stuffed pheasant,” the elder swordsman was able to get out before another chuckle took his breath.

Mathew was not amused by the simile but he had to admit, the clothes he had been given were indeed a little too small but he did not have much time to mull over it, for in the next minute the room was filled with the smell of roasted pork. Mathew turned his head to the corridor through which he had entered to see the pig being carried on a large platter by two male elves. Behind them was a train of elves carrying all manner of foodstuffs, which were loaded onto the table, starting at the end where Illa’nor sat and continuing all the way down until the table was full. After setting the table, the elves that had brought everything in took places at the table themselves. They waited a few minutes for a few stragglers to make their hurried entrance but soon all the places were filled. Once everything was prepared and the room was filled with delicious aroma’s that made Mathew’s mouth water, Illa’nor spoke.

“We have as our guests, two humans, let us show them our hospitality,” she said loudly. After a slight pause, she continued, “Taeru Jishen.”

With that command hands reached into the middle of the table and food started to move this way and that, making its way into plates all along the table. Mathew was not sure what some of the food before him was but after a few large slices of pork made their way onto his plate all manner of things were passed and served to him. They included, more than one kind of rice, both of which were quite clumpy, roasted fish, something that he was delighted to have since he had not eaten it in years, pieces of another meat he could not identify wrapped in a plant that was unknown to him, a meat of some kind that was cooked in such a way as to give it a brittle crunch along with a myriad of other things. When the sharing was complete he had more food on his plate than he had ever had at a single sitting in his life. He was not sure what half of it was but he was more than willing to find out. Picking up his fork, which, incidentally was a little smaller than he would have liked, he dove in. Throughout the next hour and a half he sifted through what had been put before him, devouring everything that he found to his liking and avoiding those that were, a little too peculiar for his liking. In the end he was so full that he felt like he had the girth of an elven tree. After dinner, Illa’nor asked Goffrey if they would like some entertainment. They graciously declined, with Goffrey explaining that after their long trek what they wanted most was a long rest to recover. Illa’nor seemed mildly perturbed by their refusal but it was only an instant. She gave them their leave; after many thanks for the meal, they returned to their rooms and rested. To everyone else, Mathew seemed to walk to his room, to him, it felt more like a waddle as he practically stumbled through the door. Despite himself, he summoned the necessary energy to close the door behind him. He could not remember the last time he had been this full, nor did he remember the debilitating effect it had on him. Though he had just woken a few hours ago, sleep did not take long in finding him and soon he was shifting through the land of his dreams.

Morning came with an annoyingly familiar rap on his door. He got to his feet slowly and opened it to find Goffrey waiting, clad in the clothes he had been wearing the previous morning and carrying a bundle underneath his left arm.

“Our clothes were washed last night, put these on and get your tome. We have much work to do,” he said as he tossed the bundle to Mathew.

Mathew closed the door and changed quickly. He was happy to be in clothes that fit again and was even more delighted that the only odour his clothes now carried was of the warm sun and a fresh breeze. After he was dressed, he quickly reached over for his tome and opened the door again to find Cameron standing across the hall seemingly awaiting him. He was clad in something completely new. The top was cut similarly to the robe he was wearing before but he now sported a thin vest over it, the cloth belt was also larger than the one he wore before and instead of a single piece of clothing, his legs were covered in a pair of pants, which if they were back in Galdarest, would have been deemed a few sizes too large. Not putting much thought into it, he assumed the sapphire ensemble was something his race deemed more appropriate for whatever they were about to do.

“Where are we going?” Mathew asked.

“We will be going to one of the Ae’monis, the Eye Gates. After we go through it, we will be outside Allu’ron and in Thysaesuen Hasyar again.”

Mathew did not even bother asking what the last words said by Cameron meant. Instead, he turned and followed them to the front doors. Even though it seemed as if it was mid morning, they did not meet any other members of the household before they left. Goffrey retrieved their shoes, which were now inside, by the door. Within a few minutes they were beyond the walls of the Faerondal Arundal and were passing through the elven city. Cameron had said that for speed they would be going directly across Roli Faerondal in a straight line so that they would arrive at an Ae’monis that faced south. They set their steeds to a quick trot and kept to the very middle of the roads. The roads of the city were quite broad, even more so than any Mathew had seen in Belanor or the other towns he had passed through on his way here, which meant that the pedestrians easily avoided them by staying to the sides. Even at the quick pace, he could not help but notice the stares of those that he passed. Having experienced them so intensely the day before, he did not succumb to the anxiety of being watched by so many eyes but instead, kept looking ahead, trying to keep a sharp eye for anyone foolish enough to step into the path of his beast. The grandeur of the city was indeed impressive. Before that morning Mathew would not have believed that it would take an entire hour of riding before they arrived at their destination. It was a large door set in the monstrous stone walls that surrounded the city. It was not as large as the door that they had originally entered through, since it was only ten feet high, but it was more than wide enough for two horses to pass through side by side comfortably. After a few words from Cameron they were through and were heading to the forest. As soon as they were free of the city’s fortifications, they sped up to almost a full gallop and after a few minutes of grassland they were again enveloped by titanic trees. It was not until another few minutes had passed that Cameron chose a spot and called them to a halt. As he dismounted he stood and scanned his surroundings, sharp eyes flitted about, searching the trees and the sparse brush. His inspection took no more than a minute after which he declared that they were indeed, alone. The others joined him on the ground.

“What is this about?” Mathew asked, his frustration at its zenith.

Goffrey looked back at him, a look of concern just barely visible in his eyes.

“It would seem that since we got here you have been frustrated, why is that young champion?”

Mathew sighed deeply.

“I do not mean to be a burden but this land is so different from my own. I am not like you, I never left Belanor and now I am in a land, meeting a people that I thought existed in dreams, speaking a tongue as strange as the calls of a bird,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“Is there anything that I can do to put your mind at ease,” Goffrey said, the concern on his face reflected in his voice.

“You may start by answering the many questions that plague me.”

“Yes I have noticed you are found of queries,” the elder Secundus said with a smirk. “Ask whatever you wish, I will try to answer, so as to help ease your frustration”

Mathew’s mind raced, there were quite a few questions he wished to ask Goffrey but he thought of the most obvious first.

“Why do I have my tome?”

“Ah, yes, that is something that I wished to explain before but the opportunity did not present itself. Over the next five days I want you to learn to do something you have never before attempted with your abilities. Something so powerful that the Du’maros will have no choice but to grant our request,” Goffrey explained.

“His plan is sound. Over these five days they expect any power you have to wane. If you were to show them something that required true power, I do not think even Solianna could deny you,” Cameron added.

After hearing the answer to his first question, another immediately sprung to mind.

“Why are you helping us Cameron?”

Cameron grinned.

“You ask me this now, after all the assistance I have given you? Had I not chosen to watch over you the task would have fallen to another Sin’dai, who would not have even allowed you to leave your room,” Cameron answered curtly.

“The young champion makes a good point Cameron,” Goffrey said as he turned to face the Sin’dai. “You have been very helpful, and for that we are grateful but I would also like to know why you have aided us.”

Cameron glanced from Mathew to Goffrey as they stared at him awaiting an answer. It was clear that they were not going to let the question go unanswered so after a minute he gave in.

“To put it simply, it was Mathew’s eyes.”

“My eyes?” Mathew answered, feeling perplexed and a little uncomfortable.

“You have the eyes of one who easily trusts others and there is a saying among my people. In your tongue it would be,” Cameron paused, trying to translate, “Trust those who trust others. My, lessons as a Sin’dai told me to send you on your way but you seemed to be truthful in the urgency of your plea. I decided to wait and see what you were truly about.”

“Well you will see what that is before the day is over.” Goffrey turned to Mathew before continuing. “And as important as that is, I will give you until midday to ask anything you like and I will answer you as best I am able,” he paused for a moment and a smirk came across his lips, “And Cameron will help as well.”

“I did not agree to this,” Cameron responded, observably perplexed.

“That you did not, but if you want Mathew’s mind to be at peace which, from the little Elias told me, is important for him to use his abilities, you will help.”

With a look of irritation just touching his features the elf agreed.

“Well, Mathew, let us take a seat and you may ask whatever you wish.”

Looking around, it only took them a few seconds to find a comfortable spot to sit in the grass before they began.

A plethora of questions ran through Mathew’s mind to ask. He had never been in a situation where he had been told outright that he could ask whatever he wanted so he was not entirely sure how to proceed. Being prudent he decided to begin with a query that he thought should have been fairly easy to answer and one that he was genuinely interested in the answer to.

“What was the War of The Dark?” he asked, recalling it being mentioned when they had first encountered Cameron.

Goffrey grinned again.

“Well I am glad I enlisted your help,” he said looking over at Cameron. Turning back to Mathew he asked, “Do you know what The Time of The Great Forging is?”

“Yes, it was when our kingdom was born, one thousand years ago,” Mathew answered.

“Alright then, I will teach you a little about how what we know, came to be. About twelve hundred years ago Astelia was not the place it is now. The land we now call Galdarest was split between the Vaughane clan, ancestors of our now good King Leowin and the Mowbray clan.”

Mathew tried to interject but Goffrey cut him off even before he could utter a syllable.

“Yes, they were my ancestors. The Vaughane’s in a quest to expand their domain ventured north looking for more land to call their own.”

Goffrey paused and allowed Cameron to take over.

“Fortunately for us, we had ended nearly four hundred years of strife between is ducen thutalis, the three clans, only half a century before. However, when the human forces reached our lands, even with our combined force, the Dai’zel were no match for the initial incursion.”

“Who are the Dai’zel?”

“The Dai’zel or Jho’sym, as they were called at the time are the warriors that fight for Is Du’maros, they are the ones that you have seen in armour, guarding the city entrance for instance. They did not fare well against the more organised armies that you humans brought to bear, because for the Dai’zel, each one fights for his own glory. This may be an honourable way to fight but it is not,” Cameron stopped to think of the apropos word. “Effective?” He asked looking over at Goffrey.

“Yes, that would be correct,” Goffrey affirmed.

“It was not the most effective way to fight and so initially we suffered great losses and the humans pushed into our lands. But now that they were here, the Sin’dai were called upon,” Cameron continued.

“And they were used to devastating effect,” Goffrey pointed out. “More than half of all the Captains the Vaughanes sent into Allu’ron were assassinated by the Sin’dai under the cover of night. Those that remained were so fearful for their lives and the lives of their families that they refused to continue the campaign. And so, the War Chief was forced to withdraw from Allu’ron after only eight months.”

The strange name given to the war all of a sudden became clear to Mathew and he nodded his understanding.

“About two hundred years passed and the Vaughanes again sought conquest. This time they journeyed south where they met my ancestors. Sadly, without a group adept at assassination like the Sin’dai the war that erupted between the two clans was as long as it was brutal. For twelve long years our blood was spilled until, with the Mowbrays gaining a decisive advantage an alliance was forged between the warring clans.”

“An alliance? Why would they form an alliance?”

“For the one reason why alliances are most forged, a greater threat reared its head. From Liadrin in the south a massive army came. Much like the Vaughanes had the king of Liadrin also sought conquest. For the Vaughanes and the Mowbrays an alliance was their only hope, for the army that rose against them was more than twice as large as either of them could muster. Knowing that this war would require a lasting alliance, my ancestor put forth that they would not merely forge an allegiance but they should become one people. The Vaughanes despised the idea but due to the looming danger they could not disagree. So as to prevent any more conflict, each clan presented its greatest warrior. The two would meet in open combat and the winner’s clan would rule over that of the loser. From my ancestors, the War Chief’s own son Julian was chosen, while the Vaughane’s chose their greatest champion, Henry Vaughane. They clashed in a battle that I am told was one of the greatest that has ever been waged on this land. It was said to have begun midmorning and gone past noon into early afternoon. In the end, the prince was defeated. His wounds were grave and had he not been treated by a physician from the Vaughane clan he would have died there.”

“Why would a physician from the Vaughane clan see to him?” Mathew asked.

“After his victory, the hero of the Vaughanes ordered it. During the fight he was said to have gained great respect for the prince and did not wish him to die. He could not be saved, however and died a few days later. My ancestor, true to his word swore fealty to the War Chief of the Vaughane clan. So moved was the War Chief of the Vaughanes by the show of valour that, despite the urgings of members of his court, he did not dub this new kingdom after his own name but instead gave it a name that all who lived in it could appreciate, so he named it after The Creator, Galdas. Since then, the heads of my family have all pledged to protect the king as best we could for as long as they ruled justly, by joining the army. After the new union was struck we went to war with the kingdom of Liadrin and King Gervasius Darkeem. The war that we had fought before had filled both our armies with battle hardened soldiers but nothing could prepare us for what was to come. The bloodshed that came was on a scale that has never been seen since, for twenty eight years we fought Gervasius the Mad, as he was also called. It almost depleted our forces entirely, but in the end, we were victorious. We were not only victorious in beating back our enemies but we also conquered Liadrin as well.”

Hearing Liadrin mentioned again immediately brought back to Mathew’s mind the question he had most wanted to have the answer to.

“Why did Imra call one of us a Liadrinian?”

Goffrey’s eyebrows lifted at the query. Getting past his initial confusion after a few moments he posed a question of his own.

“Have you never noticed that your skin is different from those around you?”

“Yes, I have but I have never thought much of it,” Mathew responded, wondering what the relevance of that question could be.

“Mathew, permit me to ask one more question before I answer you. From where do your parents hail?”

“I was always told they were traders from the east,” Mathew answered, feeling somewhat apprehensive.

Goffrey seemed a little startled to hear that, which made Mathew even more uneasy.

“With the colour of your skin being what it is, there can be no doubt Mathew, your parents were from Liadrin.”

“What? You must be mistaken,” Mathew shouted just before swiftly standing to his feet.

Goffrey looked up at him, his face compassionate.

“Please sit,” the elder swordsman said, softly.

Mathew sat back into the grass slowly.

“I am sure you must know The Wall of Kesh, the mountain range south of Belanor?”

“Yes, I know them,” Mathew said, his eyebrows deeply furrowed in his disquiet.

“Those mountains separate Galdarest from Liadrin and extend from the western edge of Astelia all the way across it, coming to stop about three quarters of the way to the sea on the eastern side. The Wall of Kesh is a very important range of mountains because they keep the harsh winter winds from reaching Liadrin. That means that in that kingdom the winters are much shorter and much warmer than we see here in Galdarest. Which also leads to longer, hotter summers and just as when someone like me goes into the sun my skin darkens somewhat the people of Liadrin are all much darker than those who are born in Galdarest.”

As the words spilled from Goffrey’s mouth, Mathew’s face became more incredulous. He had always noticed the difference in his skin and of those around him but no one else had ever made an issue of it so he never thought much of it other than he was born somewhat different. Of all the questions that ran through him, such as, who were his parents, where they were and why they had left him to Gammon, one shone through like lighthouse beacon, why Gammon had lied to him. Telling him his parents were traders from the east did not sound like a total lie but not mentioning the fact that they were not from Galdarest was something that Mathew found nigh unforgivable. From out of nowhere fury greater than he could ever remember swelled from his gut and flowed through his every vein. In his mind there was only one thing to be done now, go back to Belanor and get the entire truth. Without a word he stood to his feet and pounded towards the steeds.

“Where are you going?” Goffrey called to his back.

“Home!” Mathew spat back.

“You cannot, we are here to fulfil Elias’ request. We cannot leave.”

Mathew spun around to face his two companions, eyes dark.

“My guardian lied to me about my parents. I am going to find out who they were.”

As he stomped away, the rage within him was so great that his eyes burned with tears even as he felt no sadness.

“No Mathew, we must assemble all those chosen so we can...” Goffrey, was stopped midsentence by Cameron’s hand on his shoulder.

“You are friends, you must not fight,” the elf said calmly.

“But he cannot...”

“I know, I have also put my trust in him. I will stop him.”

Before Goffrey could even say anything Cameron set off at a run, the blistering speed of which could only have been matched by another elf. Even though Mathew had crossed three quarters of the distance between where they sat and their steeds, Mathew’s hand was not able to reach the reign due to Cameron landing in front of him, having jumped over the young champion’s head. Reflexively, Mathew jumped back.

“I cannot let you leave Allu’ron,” Cameron said, his voice hushed.

This was something Mathew had not foreseen. He had half expected the elder swordsman chasing him, but before him was this elf, who was practically a stranger. What right did he have to try and stop him?

“Get out my way elf,” Mathew demanded.

“I cannot do that. You may want answers to your questions we cannot give but you will have to wait to get them.”

“I beat Ryul, do not stand in my way!”

“You will find that I am much more of a challenge than that Maro’to”

Before any more conversing could occur Mathew rushed forward, fists clenched as tightly as his muscles would allow. The over hand right that came tore through the air but found no home. With a quick duck Cameron easily avoided it. Mathew, about to swing again saw a glint in the corner of his eye that caused him to pull his punch and instead step back. Looking more closely, now that he had a few feet of space, Mathew saw that Cameron had produced a blade. It was longer than any knife, but shorter than a sword. Cameron smirked, as Mathew backed off. He was actually impressed that the young champion, in his enraged state was able to notice that he had, in fact been armed. As much as he did not wish to admit, due to the circumstances, the idea of fighting Mathew was somewhat exhilarating. His opponent was less than a tenth of his age but it did not matter, the raw skill that he had shown made Cameron wary. Now that he was sure what he was up against, Mathew raised his fists again, rushed forward and fired a powerful right straight aimed for the middle of Cameron’s head. Cameron did not want to hurt Mathew but he thought a small amount of pain would be enough to bring him back to his senses. Avoiding the straight with a sidestep he arched his sword to make a shallow cut near the young champion’s wrist. Instead of drawing blood his blade was greeted by the clang of metal against metal. The feeling that ran through him was something he had not felt in almost century, it was surprise so intense it was akin to fear. His fear was warranted; due to his hesitation Mathew caught his right shoulder in a grip with his left hand. With a twist of his hips and his arm withdrawn Mathew turned to fire a bone crunching right hook. Cameron tried his hardest to avoid it, with a swift twist of his head he slipped out of his vest, leaving it in Mathew’s clutches. He now stood about two feet away and with the back of his hand against his face. It had been ages since he had pitted his skills against a human and at the time he had crossed swords with one he had become aware that he could not match him in strength, as well as that, thankfully, his opponent could not keep up with his speed. This battle was completely different. He was not fast enough to stop parry Mathew’s blows and even if he was, he could scarcely due that without injuring him. His only option was to avoid them at all costs, for if a graze hurt as much as the blow he had just partially avoided, he was almost completely convinced that a clean hit would snap his jaw. He could not help but grin, this was even more serious than he expected, which was wonderful. Given the peace that Allu’ron had seen for centuries he had never truly been able to test the skills he had been taught as a member of the Sin’dai. Preparing himself for the next assault he spun his blade around, laid it flat against his forearm and took a low stance. His nostrils still spitting fire Mathew threw away the vest in his left hand and dashed forward. First, he came in with a wild right hook which Cameron side stepped, but Mathew was not about to be outmatched again. Before he could fully complete the arch of the punch he pulled back and stepped forward on his left leg. That put him directly in front of Cameron again, which allowed him to launch another hook, this time with his left. Despite his clever move, Cameron’s elven speed proved too much and the second strike also found nothing solid. With a quick back step the Sin’dai was now out of range and he would again have to advance. He did not get the opportunity, however, for at that instant Cameron propelled himself towards him. In about as quickly as he could blink the elf had come back from his back step and was before him. Twisting his right arm, he countered the intrusion into his space with an elbow strike. Cameron, seeing no window of opportunity had no choice but to block it. Even gritting his teeth, and expecting the pain that was to come, the bone jarring shock of Mathew’s strike still pierced through his mental barriers. It mattered little; he was now close enough to strike. Before Mathew could attack again he felt, the familiar and very uncomfortable feel of a blade against his neck. Cameron had rested the blade of his sword right against his throat. Even in his rage, his survival instinct told him to freeze. He swallowed hard, unsure of what the elf was about to do. Cameron spoke slowly, his voice somewhat ragged but calm.

“I will not end you like this, if you come back and sit with us.”

That was the last thing Mathew wanted to do but that did not matter now for an elf, who he did believe, had both the will and the skill necessary to kill him, had what felt like a razor thin blade to his neck, so he complied. Sitting in the grass, with Goffrey and Cameron watching him intently was not pleasant but it did afford him time to think about what he had done and even though it took the better part of half an hour he did calm himself. Looking over to Cameron who was now visibly concerned over the state of his left forearm, he apologised.

“I am very sorry, I should never have done that,” he said, sounding genuinely remorseful.

“Nonsense,” Cameron said with a grin, “It was brief, but I have not had a battle like that in far too long.”

“But, your arm,” he began to apologise again before Cameron stopped him with a raised hand.

“Will mend”

Over the time that Mathew had taken to cool his head, Goffrey had flipped through his tome. He was completely fascinated by what he was seeing. Never having wielded the power of a shard he could not appreciate the method of execution of anything before him but he could easily understand the results that the pages illustrated. To think that the Order of Galdas wielded this much power and did not use it was amazing. He now understood why Leowin’s great grandfather had commissioned the forming of the order to take the power of these shards out of the hands of the royal family. Thumbing through the pages of the book he came to something he liked about two thirds of the way through. Looking down at Mathew who was still sitting cross-legged in the grass, looking like a puppy that had been caught eating his master’s dinner, he spoke.

“I promise you that as soon as it is possible we will return to Belanor and you will be able to speak to your guardian about your parents, but for now, we must complete what we came here to do,” he said, trying to sound as reassuring as possible.

He bent slightly and passed Mathew the tome. Mathew skimmed the page that Goffrey had chosen and immediately knew what the elder Secundus was asking was a lofty prospect. It would require a level of ability that seemed far beyond his reach. The scale of the task did not matter; to atone for attacking Cameron he would try as hard as he could to master it. After reading it properly he noticed a flaw in Goffrey’s plan. So, searching much closer to the front of the book he found the technique that Elias had used to repair the temple floor after their training sessions. After reading it, it seemed easier than he had expected and he felt he would only require the rest of the day to be able to do it with some measure of skill. Irrelevant of whatever he thought, it was now time to begin and they would have to hurry because they had lost almost half of their first day already.

Dawn broke on the morning of the sixth day, the day after Mathew’s supposed isolation had ended, casting all in a warm orange glow. He, Goffrey and Cameron prepared themselves for their audience with the Du’maros. Since Illa’nor, for reasons he could not understand, had demanded that he bathe on a daily basis he had to train on the fourth day in elven wear. Today, he was elated to be back again in his shirt and trousers, which were washed and dried the day before. All three of them were dressed and ready, with Cameron sporting a wrap around his left forearm to help the bruising; they left the Faerondal Arundal and made their way to Is Chaehas. Goffrey had sent word through Cameron that the Maro’tos should also be in attendance that morning as well. He had got a favourable response, seeing as most expected the events of the day were of the greatest magnitude and were to be witnessed by everyone of any significance. Illa’nor, ensuring that she would not be late had left a little after dawn that morning to see her mother, so was not there to greet them as she had over the last four days. They had left around midmorning and arrived a little before noon, which was when they were told to arrive. Unlike the first time they had stood before Is Soma’dhi the guards did not bar their way at any point and they were ushered to the throne room almost immediately. Once again they were before the Du’maros but Mathew was even more apprehensive on this occasion. To Aelrue’s right stood Illa’nor in a dress that matched the emerald of her mother’s and to Solianna’s left stood Ryul, who seemed to be much recovered except for a white patch on his cheek where a piece of linen sat, to cover a yet to heal area no doubt. They were only two of the people that had come just to view Mathew’s demonstration. Unlike the time before, all the padded areas on the floor were occupied by, what he imagined, where all elves of high status. Imra smiled softly before speaking.

“I apologise for my son not being with us today, he is in charge of the city of Nalathos and it would appear that urgent matters have kept him from joining us,” she said before a pause. “You have come before us claiming to wield Galdas’ power. After these five days it is time to put your claim to the test.”

“It is that proof that we intend to give,” Goffrey retorted.

Goffrey turned to Mathew and patted him on the shoulder.

“You will do fine, Elias taught you well,” he said with a smile.

Mathew turned to Cameron who also smiled and nodded before he and Goffrey stepped back to give him the necessary room.

“You may begin whenever you please,” Imra said softly.

“Thank you,” Mathew answered nervously.

Mathew closed his eyes and outstretched his hands. The first thing he knew he had to do was to conquer the fear that was now quickening through his veins. The technique that Goffrey had asked him to master required him to use another ability he had yet to learn; which meant the task at hand could not be done in his anxious state. It required him to project part of himself into the stone below him. Mastering this new concept had, in of itself been difficult, and now he had to replicate his training, not only before the three elves that he had expected to be before, but apparently the entire court. That did not matter at present, it could not. Now, he had to focus on what he was to do. Rubbing his fingers to together, he focused on his breathing and eased his heart beat down to a crawl. It helped that as the seconds ticked by, unlike humans, the elves were perfectly silent. As his heart slowed and his mind became filled with the rush of the wind through his nostrils, the trepidation left him. He poured his power into the ground. Unlike the techniques that he had used before this one encouraged him to send his power deep into the ground and keep the flow fairly narrow, instead of spreading it across the ground, to which he had become inured. Now he had to project a part of his essence into the stone below him. Just as the book said, to make it simpler he started off with imagining that part of the stone represented his arm. He started at his shoulder and went down to his elbow and then to his fingers, forming the connection with the stone below him. Next, came the other arm. With both arms completed, he then began at his waist, going down both legs simultaneously. Around him, the minutes seemed to seep by, even the patient elves wondered what it was they had come to witness. Mathew did not let thoughts like that penetrate his mind; he had to keep the outmost focus. He had animated both his arms and his legs and now it was time for the truly difficult part of new ability, the head. For this part he unconsciously moved his arm inward so only his finger tips touched. Goffrey smiled a little, that hand motion was something that he had seen before. He knew that it meant Mathew was at what he called the most intricate part of the technique. It was now becoming evident that the court was becoming impatient. That did not bother him much; he was determined to stall for the minutes that Mathew may have required to complete it. Time seemed to roll by at a snail’s pace and Mathew stood, unmoving, seemingly doing nothing but pretending to be a statue. Then another minute crawled by, and just as if he had been carved out of stone himself, he did not budge. As a third minute came around Goffrey could see that even Aelrue, the one that supported them the most had almost lost her patience as well. Looking at Imra, he could see that the ancient elf was about to stop the demonstration. He prepared himself to try and intercept her the moment she tried to stop Mathew. Thankfully, he did not have to. As she stood to her feet, most likely to call an end to the so far uneventful display Mathew’s eyes flew open and the ground erupted from below him. From the pristine black marble floor of the throne room came forth something that no one, human, outside of Goffrey and Mathew, nor elf, outside of Cameron, had seen before. It was a man, standing twelve feet tall and more than five feet wide at the shoulders, made of pure stone. The room for a brief moment was filled with a cacophony of frightened screams from everyone in attendance, as members of the court practically leapt back. The guards ran from their position at the door and promptly put themselves between Mathew’s creation and their leaders. Mathew hopped down from its shoulder and landed on the floor like a cat due to the weakness in his knees, but he did not let the feeling of exhaustion faze him. A grin on his face told of how proud of himself he was of his accomplishment even as the beads of sweat rolled down his brow. Up until this point, Goffrey had spoken to the Du’maros, being the more eloquent of the pair but now he stood his ground. He knew that nothing he could utter would mean as much as something from Mathew’s own lips. The earthen man that Mathew had created was by no means complete; according to the tome, one could use this technique to create an intricate likeness of themselves, or any other person the user wished. Mathew’s creation was rough at best, with just enough features, arms, legs, fingers, toes and a generic face to make it seem human. Standing on his, somewhat unstable legs, he turned to see his creation. Just as the book had said, the golem’s eyes glowed yellow with his energies. Looking up, his grin broadened to as far as his face could manage. His attention was brought back when Imra, retaking her seat spoke.

“What is it that you have created Mathew?” she asked, the apprehension evident even in her voice.

“It is called a golem and it will do anything I command within its ability to do,” he recited directly from the tome.

“Well, show us that it is as you say,” Solianna spat out, a slight tremble in her voice.

Mathew turned to his creation and told it to pick him up. There was a low rumble as the golem reached down with an up turned palm. With a confident step Mathew got into its palm and was raised up almost twenty feet in the air, balancing on one leg in its outstretched palm. From his new vantage point he could see that the normally dignified elves had looks of astonishment and fear plastered on their faces. He did not enjoy filling them with trepidation but he grinned anyway; the pride of his success still bursting from within him.

“Place me on the ground, slowly,” Mathew commanded.

The golem complied, slowly placing its creator on the floor. Imra steadied herself before speaking; in almost four centuries of life she had never seen anything similar to what now stood before her and even she was unnerved by the amber eyes of the being that stood not ten feet away.

“I do not believe that I need to ask my fellow Stars what they think of this. You have proven that not only have you been blessed with the power of Galdas’ shard but also with more power than I thought any human could control. That said, I am requesting that you send your creature back to the earth. I believe it would set my guards at ease.”

Mathew’s could not help but find the guards that now stood between him and The Three Stars humorous. They stood square footed, spears lowered, with a look on their faces that told they were trying their hardest to hold back a fear that was banging against the back of their minds like a smith’s hammer. He could not blame them, and even admired them for standing their ground. Clearing his mind again, he clasped his hands together and concentrated. Thankfully, cancelling the golem was much easier than creating it. In only a minute its glowing eyes dimmed, as he began drawing the part of himself he had placed within it back into himself. It was not long before they went completely dark. Its stone body would have collapsed under its own weight had it not been for Mathew. He held the pieces up before slowly allowing them to fall to the floor. Next, he flattened his energy out beneath him so it stretched out below the pile of rubble that was once his golem, as well as encompassing the gaping hole from which it was born. He imagined the floor beneath him as a liquid and as such tried to sink the stones of his golem back into it. With a low rumbled the stones crumbled, the pieces sliding into the floor, once again became one with the ground below him. He made sure to set the stones from where he had taken them, ensuring that the structural stability of the throne room was preserved. Turning his attention to the hole he shifted stone from below that he had taken from the body of the golem and filled it in. With a little creativity he was even able to seal the missing area so that it appeared almost as if the hole had never been. When he was done he had a slight headache. Creating the golem required much of his strength but repairing the damage required a great deal of mental dexterity. Still, he was immensely proud of his achievement, he had not mastered the golem technique but at least he had been able to use it and he had almost mastered a technique he had seen Elias use. As far as times of achievement in his life went, this one stood out with the most wonderful. It made him wish that the elder priest was present to see his accomplishment. Ignoring the sentiment, with sweat wetting his back and chest, he turned his attention back to The Three Stars.

Goffrey stepped forward as well and stood beside Mathew.

“According to what Cameron has told us, your people do not take last names. Am I correct?” Goffrey asked.

“Yes, that is correct,” Imra answered.

“Then this should be quite simple. The name that was called from the shard of wind was Illa’nor,” he said as he turned to look at the daughter of Aelrue.

Next Chapter: Chapter 1 Terra