The Aurelian Prophecy

By Willem McForrester

When Elgin is sought out by a Dnaeli elven girl, she delivers him a mysterious letter. This prompts Elgin to suddenly leave for the Lordrien Citadel in the middle of the night where he and his oldest friend Moreck uncover an

• Language: English
• Publisher: Willem McForrester
• Release date: Jan 9, 2024
• ISBN: 9798869110237

Book preview

The Aurelian Prophecy

Willem McForrester

Copyright© 2023. Willem McForrester. All Rights Reserved.

No part of this work covered by the copyright herein may be reproduced or used in any form or by any means—graphic, electronic, or mechanical without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any request for photocopying, recording, taping, or information storage and retrieval systems of any part of this book shall be directed in writing to the author.

This publication contains the opinions and ideas of its author(s) and is designed to provide useful advice in regard to the subject matter covered.

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Contents

CHAPTER I

In Search of the Lordrien Mystic

CHAPTER II

So Many Questions and Answers

CHAPTER III

The Ancient Tomb of Azauriel Varick

CHAPTER IV

The Aurelian Prophecy Revealed

CHAPTER V

Much to Discuss within Windhaven

CHAPTER VI

Searching for the Aurelian Champion

CHAPTER VII

Divisions within the Brotherhood

CHAPTER VIII

Expected and Unexpected Amenities

CHAPTER IX

Searching for Missing Companions

CHAPTER X

A Firelit Night and Close Bonding

CHAPTER XI

Lost Memories Best Remembered

CHAPTER XII

Arrival at the Forbidden Mountains

CHAPTER XIII

The Forging of Courage and Honor

CHAPTER I

In Search of the Lordrien Mystic

The sun crept slowly over the lofty peaks and ridges of the eastern Rhalenheim Mountain range, its golden rays emerging steadily and gradually blotting out the last remnants of stars to the west. Shadows began to dissipate, infusing depth and texture into the countryside, unveiling the lush green contours of the land. As the morning advanced, the brilliance of the sunrise outshone the frost, which adorned the fields with a magnificent array of colors, gently melting into the rich soil and nourishing the thirsty roots below.

Myriel Aerolyn continued her two-hour journey south toward the Valorien region from her village in the Forbidden Mountains. Her path would soon lead her through the dense trees of the Everwood Forest and onward to the elven city of Windhaven. Despite her youth and petite stature for an elf, she was eager to assist the elder and the Dnaeli people in any way possible. In her hand, she carried a short walking staff intricately carved with elven patterns and symbols, recounting the story of her people. Her dark brown, shoulder-length hair swayed across her face in the breeze as she descended along her route. She wore a dark-colored cloak draped loosely over her forest-green tunic and pants. On her back, she carried a small pack, tightly bound bedroll, and a lightly tanned travel bag strapped to her shoulder, hanging close to her waist.

Myriel, like all Dnaeli elves, was a cleric who had dedicated her entire life to the craft of healing. Over the years, she had learned from her teachers the age-old traditions of caring for and healing all living things. While she cherished her role as a cleric, she had always yearned to explore the vast world beyond the Forbidden Mountains, craving new experiences and adventures.

Descending Cairnshadow Trail, Myriel and her diminutive companion could discern that it hadn’t seen travelers for a very long time, not since the elven pilgrimages ceased nearly three hundred years ago. Neatly arranged piles of stones littered both sides of the path, marking the passage of elves ascending to the great Eukarys Tree. The trail was steep, rocky, and marred by large clumps of grass that had overgrown its once-worn and smooth surface. As she trudged along, the early onset of exhaustion washed over her, beads of sweat forming and trickling down her slender, flushed face under the mid-morning sun.

Maintaining her pace steady and purposeful, she thought about the important mission ahead. She had never been outside the safety of her own borders before. She had no idea how she was going to find and locate her query. All she knew for sure was that she was to deliver a letter to a mystic of Lordrien and that finding him was of the utmost importance. She wasn’t even quite sure why the Dnaeli elder had volunteered her to undertake this quest, except for her strong desire to explore the world beyond her books and the safety of her little community. Regardless of the motive, she yearned to meet new people and discover new faraway places, though she was very leery about traveling alone. After all, she wasn’t a fighter but a highly trained and skilled healer. She was well aware of the risks she was taking, risking her own life by accepting this quest. Nevertheless, she remained focused on the mission at hand, one that had been assigned to her due to its significant importance and time sensitivity.

Myriel contemplated whether the elder’s sudden urgency had any connection to the Aurelian prophecy or the sacred Eukarys tree itself. Regardless, she remained determined to embark on this journey at the elder’s request.

Late afternoon had arrived, and the weary elf found respite on a decaying log beside the winding path. She paused to quench her thirst and satiated her hunger with dried fish and berries. Gazing skyward, she estimated the hour to be around the sixteenth of the day. As she savored her late lunch, she marveled at the panoramic view of the boundless and stunning fields that stretched before her—a truly magnificent sight. In the distance, a pair of peregrine falcons soared gracefully above the rolling grassy hills and knolls, circling as they hunted for their daily sustenance. To her left, a sizable herd of elk grazed upon the flourishing spring grasses that adorned the lush hills and verdant pastures of the countryside.

While she rested and absorbed the tranquil scenery, she inhaled the sweet fragrance of spring carried by the gentle southern breeze caressing her face. As she cast her gaze upon the world below, she realized her vantage point afforded her a superior perspective, revealing the vastness of the province, including an approaching storm from the southeast. Consulting her map, she noted her proximity to the base of the Forbidden Mountains, where the Everwood Forest commenced. It was here that she would embark on Pilgrims Road, heading west toward the Valorien border and a southern fork. The elder had assured her that these roads were safe and instructed her to watch for mystic markings on the trees to guide her to his location. The elder had meticulously sketched the marking on her map, providing clear directions to find him.

Having finished her meal, she carefully folded the map and stowed it inside her inner tunic pocket. She then retrieved the enigmatic letter destined for the Lordrien mystic. Holding it in her hands, she resisted the urge to break the detailed sap seal and peruse its contents despite her youthful and restless curiosity. She pondered the nature of the man to whom she was entrusted to deliver it and why this task was of such paramount importance. Whatever the reason for the sudden urgency, she hoped fervently that he was a trustworthy individual.

An hour later, she approached the eastern fringe of the Everwood Forest, seeking refuge from the approaching storm that threatened to dampen her spirited journey. The southern winds carried a sweet scent of impending rain, growing stronger with each passing moment. Myriel and her small companion quickened their pace as the winds intensified with unyielding force. She pulled her hood up and around her head, attempting to shield her face from the swirling dirt and debris, but the tempest’s ferocity made it difficult to maintain clear vision beneath her cloak.

Struggling against the powerful wind, Myriel pressed on as raindrops, ever larger, began to fall, darkening the soil beneath her feet and leaving shallow footprints in her wake. The weather proved too formidable for her to manage, compelling her to hasten toward the towering tree line ahead. Her pack bounced on her back, the sounds of her clerical gear jostling and clanging together. The rain intensified, forming sizable puddles on the road that splashed with each step of her hurried pace.

Moments later, she finally found sanctuary within the vast expanse of the Everwood Forest, where the rich scents of forest bark and moss, invigorated by the moisture, filled the air. Towering trees swayed and creaked around her as the relentless gusts raged above the endless canopy.

When she finally paused along the path to survey her surroundings, she initiated a conversation with her diminutive companion, which fluttered about her. Abruptly, the distant clatter of hooves approached from the west, prompting her tiny companion to hastily take flight. Myriel swiftly sought cover behind a fallen tree, her gaze fixed intently on the approaching riders.

Observing the riders as they passed, it became apparent that they were elven soldiers, clearly on a mission of great urgency. With the soldiers now gone, she cautiously emerged from behind the log and resumed her westward journey, calling out for her tiny faedra companion, though her diminutive friend remained conspicuously absent.

As an hour passed, apprehension began to overshadow her as she traversed the road alone under the ominous cloak of darkness. In the distance, she discerned several riderless, armored horses nestled amidst the dense trees, roughly twenty meters ahead of her position. As she approached the horses, she began to shout, hoping to garner a response from someone.

Hello? Her call echoed through the stillness, but there was no reply, only the jitters of the spooked horses and the howling wind that swept fiercely through the treetops above.

Once more, she cried out, Hello, is there anybody there? But her voice echoed without reply, no welcoming voices to meet her call. She cautiously approached one of the armored horses with her hands raised, seeking contact with the animal. As she neared, the horse’s head reared back in apprehension, but she persisted, gingerly grabbing the reins with one hand while cautiously approaching its head with the other. She ran her hand down the beautiful, dark mane, stroking the long hair and neck with gentle motions until the horse finally calmed. The intricate blue and yellow emblem cresting the horse’s breastplate indicated they belonged to the Kierendahl Elven guard. However, Myriel couldn’t help but wonder where their riders were. Something felt amiss. Elven guards wouldn’t abandon their horses without good reason.

Continuing to soothe the horse, Myriel glanced around, her head swiveling in all directions. Yet, all she saw were the trees swaying gently in the wind, casting deepening shadows as the forest grew darker with the onset of nightfall. Uncertain about her next move, she decided to leave the horse behind and explore the area more closely.

Suddenly, lightning struck, briefly illuminating the tree leaves, followed by a deafening clap of thunder that sent the horses scattering in every direction. Myriel attempted to chase one down, but it proved too swift, vanishing deep into the forest.

Now alone and lost in the woods, she stumbled upon several lifeless bodies lying on the grass and leaves. Startled and horrified, she turned away and accidentally tripped, falling face-first onto one of the corpses. As she recoiled in terror, she found herself staring directly into the eyes of the deceased elf when lightning struck again. She let out a piercing scream at the grim sight of death and began to run along the road, pushing herself until exhaustion left her breathless. Lost in the dark, she wandered, completely vulnerable and devoid of any means to defend herself.

Just as she contemplated taking a rest, the thundering of horse hooves echoed, drawing closer and closer. Myriel decided to take a risk and waved the rider down as the galloping approached. As the rider neared her on the road, he skillfully slowed his mount to a trot and then brought it to a complete halt. Although the growing darkness obscured some details, Myriel noticed that the rider was hooded and draped in a long, dark-flowing cloak. The hood veiled his eyes in shadow, but his voice carried warmth and reassurance. He withdrew his hood, revealing straight, shoulder-length black hair and a kind face.

Are you alright? he asked. Who are you, and why are you traveling alone out here? It’s dangerous.

My name is Myriel, she replied, her voice trembling. I’m trying to find a man known as the Lordrien mystic. I’ve been told he might be in the elven city of Windhaven. I’m so scared; I’ve never traveled alone before. Can you please help me find him?

The rider dismounted, gently taking hold of Myriel’s arm and guiding her to the side of his horse. Here, get on. My name is Alomar, he introduced himself. I’ll get you to safety, but I can’t promise Windhaven. It’s a two-day ride from here.

Alomar spurred the horse into action, urging it into a gallop through the darkened forest, heading east along Pilgrims Road. When they reached a clearing amidst the trees, Alomar guided his horse up the embankment’s side and brought it to a halt. He strained his ears, then shouted into the trees, Crayden!

There was no response, only the whispering of the wind through the leaves. Alomar wasn’t certain how he would locate his friend, but one thing was clear: he couldn’t ride east to the Andraeli elves with a she-elf clinging to his back.

Well, now that I’ve found you, the only option is to take you to the keep, Alomar declared.

Myriel’s voice trembled with desperation as she replied, Oh, please help me. I must reach Windhaven. I’m searching for the mystic of Lordrien. My mission is of utmost importance.

Alomar turned toward her with surprise, his curiosity piqued. The mystic of Lordrien? I am a mystic of Lordrien. Whom do you seek?

I really shouldn’t say. I don’t know anything about you, she hesitated in her response.

Alomar sat in contemplative silence, grappling with what to do about the young girl. He couldn’t fathom why she was alone in this perilous situation. He mulled over the possibility that the mystic she sought was Elgin Myrrh. If that were the case, he could simply take her to him; it was only a few hours’ ride from their current location. Studying her for a moment, he weighed the circumstances. She appeared both fearful and resolute, and Crayden had assured him he would rendezvous at the keep later, suggesting he could handle himself if need be among the Andraeli. Alomar turned away briefly, assessing the road, then met Myriel’s gaze again.

Alright, Myriel, he finally said. I’ll take you to the keep. It’s just a few hours’ ride from here. You can speak with the master who resides there to find shelter from the storm. It’s safe for you. My master will provide you with all the accommodations you need. If the weather clears by morning, he may be able to arrange your journey to Windhaven to seek the one you’re after. For now, traveling that far in these conditions would be too perilous. Do we have an agreement?

Myriel cast her gaze skyward, contemplating his offer. The inclement weather made the journey seem increasingly treacherous, and Alomar did strike her as trustworthy. She released a gentle sigh, her petite shoulders shrugging slightly, and ultimately agreed to his proposal. With their agreement in place, Alomar turned his horse around, and the two of them began to head west, then south, in the direction of the keep. Moving along the road at a leisurely pace, Alomar decided to strike up a conversation with Myriel.

Where are you from? he inquired.

I’m from the Forbidden Mountains. My people are called the Dnaeli, she replied. Do you know of us?

Alomar pondered for a moment, recalling some of the lessons his master Crayden had imparted about the races of Lordrien. Oh, yes, now I remember. You and your people are highly skilled clerics, and you live up there with the Eukarys Tree.

Yes, she affirmed. My people and I are deeply devoted to our craft.

Alomar nodded in agreement. A sudden recollection of something else Crayden had told him crossed his mind. Aren’t you and your people somewhat reclusive, keeping to yourselves?

Myriel lowered her head, her voice tinged with sadness. Yes, we are. Ever since the time of the Great Wounding, our village and the sacred Eukarys Tree have been off-limits to all travelers, including other elven tribes. That was nearly three hundred years ago. It seems quite absurd to me. Our elders should reopen our village and reinstate the seven-year pilgrimages. The other elven tribes need that celebration and the Eukarys. But I am still young... what do I know?

Suddenly, the horse began to neigh and reared up on its hind legs, dancing in place. The horse was clearly spooked and refused to go any further. Alomar leaned forward, pressing his chest against the horse’s neck, gently stroking her and murmuring, What is it, girl? Is there something out there?

The horse reared up once more, and both Alomar and the horse tumbled to the ground. The horse frantically danced back and forth, hooves slamming down in a defensive stance. Alomar gazed ahead and saw what had frightened her: a draegul, a deadly creature from E’van Dur in the northwest. It stood its ground for a moment before lunging forward, attacking the horse in the chest. The horse screamed and bolted into the woods, disappearing from sight.

Myriel scrambled to her feet and sought refuge behind a large fallen tree amidst some dense bushes nearby. Horrified, she called out to Alomar but could do nothing to assist him. As man and beast grappled in the darkness, Alomar broke free from the creature’s grasp, regaining his composure. He locked eyes with the creature and drew his sword, the blade resonating with a shrill ring as it left its scabbard.

Alomar urgently called out to her, Keep your distance and hide! I’m confident someone will find you if I fall. Just stay on the road!

The beast remained crouched, poised for the opportune moment to strike, calculating and cautious. Alomar swung his sword at it, prompting the creature to leap backward, evading the attack. He held his blade low in a defensive posture as they circled each other in the shrouded darkness. The beast emitted a horrifying shriek and charged, breaking through Alomar’s defenses. It violently swiped at his sword hand with its gnarled fingers,