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The Doomed Bastards: Reckoning (story complete)
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<blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 3388921" data-attributes="member: 143"><p>Chapter 119</p><p></p><p>HOMECOMING</p><p></p><p></p><p>The tall chamber at the top of the tower was dark, the only illumination the faint starlight that filtered in through the narrow windows of stained glass that extended high up toward the peaked ceiling. In that weak radiance, the chamber was populated by a landscape of deep shadows and vague forms that could have been anything. Faint motes of dust hung in the air, and the place had an aura of disuse that lay over it like a faded drape. </p><p></p><p>Something sparkled faintly in the light of one of the windows. It resolved as a trickle of fine mist, which rolled into the chamber through a tiny crack in one of the windows. The mist thickened as it dropped toward the chamber floor below, even as it disappeared into the shadows. </p><p></p><p>A moment after the column of mist faded out of view altogether, a new shadow began to move among the gathered collection that crowded the chamber. The intruder moved among the gathered clutter without mishap. Occasionally it paused next to an object of indefinable purpose, running a hand across a dusty metal sphere, or a shelf that supported a row of oddly-shaped jars. </p><p></p><p>A door opened, suddenly. The intruder turned slowly as someone else entered the chamber. Metal hissed on leather, and a voice of command shattered the sepulchral stillness of the room. </p><p></p><p><em>"Light!"</em></p><p></p><p>A brilliant radiance filled the chamber, shining from the slender sword of white steel held by the woman standing in the doorway. She was beautiful, with pale skin and short-cropped hair the color of amber. Her face bore the ageless features of the <em>aelfinn</em>, called “elves” by the humans of Camar. She was clad only in a sleeping robe of shimmering silk, although silver bracers shone on her wrists, and a silver amulet dangled from her throat, an intricate pattern twined in fine metal. But the sword in her hand was held in a deadly, ready pose, and its tip did not quiver in the slightest as she brandished it at the intruder. The light from the sword revealed little of the stranger, who was clad in a dark cloak that shrouded its form in indiscriminate cloth. </p><p></p><p>“Who are you? Reveal yourself!”</p><p></p><p>The figure reached up with hands so slender as to be frail, and drew back its hood. </p><p></p><p>The elven woman’s eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, she could not speak. When she finally managed a word, it hissed from her throat as if strangled.</p><p></p><p>“Father?”</p><p></p><p>* * * * * </p><p></p><p>The being that had been called the “mad elf” by the Doomed Bastards of Rappan Athuk sipped tea from an equisitely designed cup of delicate porcelain. He was seated in an ancient armchair of plush velvet cloth, which seemed to swallow up his thin frame. As he placed the cup back down on the adjacent end table, his fingers trembled slightly. </p><p></p><p>Two elves watched him intently. One was the woman who’d discovered him earlier, clad now in a dressing gown that failed to cover the form of the sword she still wore at her hip. The other was an elven man, his silver hair restrained by a band of platinum filigree at his temples, likewise hastily dressed in houseclothes of fine silk. A small gemstone orbited his head, occasionally flashing in the light of the small magical lamps placed throughout the room. While the woman simply stood there, staring at her guest, the man clearly could not fully control his agitation, and he frequently paced back and forth before pausing to confront the seated elf. </p><p></p><p>“Lord Alderis... Elegion... your return places us in a difficult position.”</p><p></p><p>The woman turned to the man. “Selanthas!”</p><p></p><p>The older elf lifted a hand. “No, Mehlaraine, your consort has the right of it. I had not intended to cause you difficulty, or indeed that any should know of my return to Aelvanmarr.”</p><p></p><p>Mehlaraine frowned at him. “But... father, surely you intend to come before the Conclave?”</p><p></p><p>“No, daughter, that would not... I am decided in this matter. No one must know that I have returned. I know it is much to ask, but still I ask it.”</p><p></p><p>“But father,” the woman said, coming forward to kneel beside his chair, “Surely the Conclave will understand that what happened, before... you were not in command of yourself. They can help you...”</p><p></p><p>“I have made my decision!” the older elf replied, more sternly than he’d intended. Seeing the look on the woman’s face, he laid his hand over hers, and said, “I am sorry, Melharaine, daughter. I know that this must have been a difficult time for you. For both of you,” he added, looking up at the other man. “But there are greater things at stake.”</p><p></p><p>“He is right,” Selanthas said. “The Conclave will act to protect the interests of the community before all else, and when your father... departed, he was a danger to himself and others. They will insist that he be taken into protective custody, at the very least.”</p><p></p><p>The older elf nodded. “I expected nothing less.”</p><p></p><p>“The Conclave took possession of most of your arcana shortly after your departure,” Selanthas continued. “Since your only heir is not a magic-user, they saw no reason why those materials should not be put to better use. I believe that the Lyceum has your books, and Lord Draelai has custody of your other items.”</p><p></p><p>“It is of no consequence. But tell me... what did the Conclave do with the crystal that I bore at the time of my arrest?”</p><p></p><p>“It was destroyed,” Selanthas said bluntly. </p><p></p><p>The older elf looked up in surprise. </p><p></p><p>“The Conclave kept it locked up, heavily warded, for a time,” Melharaine said. “Draelai said that there was a considerable arcane potency within it, but that it was dangerous. I think... that is, I suspect that they wanted to access that power themselves.”</p><p></p><p>“Foolish.”</p><p></p><p>“Indeed,” Selanthas said. “Your friend, the archmage Sultheros, he agreed with you, and urged caution. The wards put on the artifact were considerable, and few not in the higher ranks of the Conclave even knew of its existence.”</p><p></p><p>“What happened?”</p><p></p><p>“A little over a month ago, the artifact began to surge, to release pulses of energy. It caused great disruption; a number of the Sensitive reported terrible dreams, and one of the Keepers took his own life.”</p><p></p><p>“Most of us felt nothing,” Melharaine said. “But Sultheros insisted that if the device could wreak such havoc beyond our strongest wards, it was too dangerous to keep here. Draelai wanted to take it elsewhere, to continue to study it, but Sultheros acted, and destroyed it himself, thus resolving the issue.”</p><p></p><p>Her father nodded to himself, counting days in his mind, and coming up with a conclusion that gave him pause. Several long minutes of silence passed.</p><p></p><p>“Father?” Melharaine finally said. “What do you intend to do?”</p><p></p><p>He looked up. “I will seek out my friend, and take his counsel. And he has a copy of a certain book in his library that I need to see.”</p><p></p><p>“It is risky to be seen in Aelvanmarr,” Selanthas said.</p><p></p><p>“I have learned much about not being seen. But I do not believe that there are many that would recognize me. My daughter, of course... but would you have known me, Selanthas, had we passed on the street?” </p><p></p><p>The elven man frowned, but did not respond. The older elf nodded. </p><p></p><p>“You do not wish to say it, but I have seen my face in the glass. I look like an elf two centuries older than my years. I see it in the concern in my daughter’s eyes, if nothing else. And believe me, Selanthas, I feel as I look.”</p><p></p><p>“What... what happened to you, father?” She held onto his hand tightly, but carefully, as though afraid that she could break him. </p><p></p><p>The elf looked away, and did not respond.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lazybones, post: 3388921, member: 143"] Chapter 119 HOMECOMING The tall chamber at the top of the tower was dark, the only illumination the faint starlight that filtered in through the narrow windows of stained glass that extended high up toward the peaked ceiling. In that weak radiance, the chamber was populated by a landscape of deep shadows and vague forms that could have been anything. Faint motes of dust hung in the air, and the place had an aura of disuse that lay over it like a faded drape. Something sparkled faintly in the light of one of the windows. It resolved as a trickle of fine mist, which rolled into the chamber through a tiny crack in one of the windows. The mist thickened as it dropped toward the chamber floor below, even as it disappeared into the shadows. A moment after the column of mist faded out of view altogether, a new shadow began to move among the gathered collection that crowded the chamber. The intruder moved among the gathered clutter without mishap. Occasionally it paused next to an object of indefinable purpose, running a hand across a dusty metal sphere, or a shelf that supported a row of oddly-shaped jars. A door opened, suddenly. The intruder turned slowly as someone else entered the chamber. Metal hissed on leather, and a voice of command shattered the sepulchral stillness of the room. [i]"Light!"[/i] A brilliant radiance filled the chamber, shining from the slender sword of white steel held by the woman standing in the doorway. She was beautiful, with pale skin and short-cropped hair the color of amber. Her face bore the ageless features of the [i]aelfinn[/i], called “elves” by the humans of Camar. She was clad only in a sleeping robe of shimmering silk, although silver bracers shone on her wrists, and a silver amulet dangled from her throat, an intricate pattern twined in fine metal. But the sword in her hand was held in a deadly, ready pose, and its tip did not quiver in the slightest as she brandished it at the intruder. The light from the sword revealed little of the stranger, who was clad in a dark cloak that shrouded its form in indiscriminate cloth. “Who are you? Reveal yourself!” The figure reached up with hands so slender as to be frail, and drew back its hood. The elven woman’s eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, she could not speak. When she finally managed a word, it hissed from her throat as if strangled. “Father?” * * * * * The being that had been called the “mad elf” by the Doomed Bastards of Rappan Athuk sipped tea from an equisitely designed cup of delicate porcelain. He was seated in an ancient armchair of plush velvet cloth, which seemed to swallow up his thin frame. As he placed the cup back down on the adjacent end table, his fingers trembled slightly. Two elves watched him intently. One was the woman who’d discovered him earlier, clad now in a dressing gown that failed to cover the form of the sword she still wore at her hip. The other was an elven man, his silver hair restrained by a band of platinum filigree at his temples, likewise hastily dressed in houseclothes of fine silk. A small gemstone orbited his head, occasionally flashing in the light of the small magical lamps placed throughout the room. While the woman simply stood there, staring at her guest, the man clearly could not fully control his agitation, and he frequently paced back and forth before pausing to confront the seated elf. “Lord Alderis... Elegion... your return places us in a difficult position.” The woman turned to the man. “Selanthas!” The older elf lifted a hand. “No, Mehlaraine, your consort has the right of it. I had not intended to cause you difficulty, or indeed that any should know of my return to Aelvanmarr.” Mehlaraine frowned at him. “But... father, surely you intend to come before the Conclave?” “No, daughter, that would not... I am decided in this matter. No one must know that I have returned. I know it is much to ask, but still I ask it.” “But father,” the woman said, coming forward to kneel beside his chair, “Surely the Conclave will understand that what happened, before... you were not in command of yourself. They can help you...” “I have made my decision!” the older elf replied, more sternly than he’d intended. Seeing the look on the woman’s face, he laid his hand over hers, and said, “I am sorry, Melharaine, daughter. I know that this must have been a difficult time for you. For both of you,” he added, looking up at the other man. “But there are greater things at stake.” “He is right,” Selanthas said. “The Conclave will act to protect the interests of the community before all else, and when your father... departed, he was a danger to himself and others. They will insist that he be taken into protective custody, at the very least.” The older elf nodded. “I expected nothing less.” “The Conclave took possession of most of your arcana shortly after your departure,” Selanthas continued. “Since your only heir is not a magic-user, they saw no reason why those materials should not be put to better use. I believe that the Lyceum has your books, and Lord Draelai has custody of your other items.” “It is of no consequence. But tell me... what did the Conclave do with the crystal that I bore at the time of my arrest?” “It was destroyed,” Selanthas said bluntly. The older elf looked up in surprise. “The Conclave kept it locked up, heavily warded, for a time,” Melharaine said. “Draelai said that there was a considerable arcane potency within it, but that it was dangerous. I think... that is, I suspect that they wanted to access that power themselves.” “Foolish.” “Indeed,” Selanthas said. “Your friend, the archmage Sultheros, he agreed with you, and urged caution. The wards put on the artifact were considerable, and few not in the higher ranks of the Conclave even knew of its existence.” “What happened?” “A little over a month ago, the artifact began to surge, to release pulses of energy. It caused great disruption; a number of the Sensitive reported terrible dreams, and one of the Keepers took his own life.” “Most of us felt nothing,” Melharaine said. “But Sultheros insisted that if the device could wreak such havoc beyond our strongest wards, it was too dangerous to keep here. Draelai wanted to take it elsewhere, to continue to study it, but Sultheros acted, and destroyed it himself, thus resolving the issue.” Her father nodded to himself, counting days in his mind, and coming up with a conclusion that gave him pause. Several long minutes of silence passed. “Father?” Melharaine finally said. “What do you intend to do?” He looked up. “I will seek out my friend, and take his counsel. And he has a copy of a certain book in his library that I need to see.” “It is risky to be seen in Aelvanmarr,” Selanthas said. “I have learned much about not being seen. But I do not believe that there are many that would recognize me. My daughter, of course... but would you have known me, Selanthas, had we passed on the street?” The elven man frowned, but did not respond. The older elf nodded. “You do not wish to say it, but I have seen my face in the glass. I look like an elf two centuries older than my years. I see it in the concern in my daughter’s eyes, if nothing else. And believe me, Selanthas, I feel as I look.” “What... what happened to you, father?” She held onto his hand tightly, but carefully, as though afraid that she could break him. The elf looked away, and did not respond. [/QUOTE]
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