2.06 - House Aelfwar

When dawn broke Anneleigh felt more refreshed than she had at any time in her recent life.  The heat in the air seemed lessened.  The dew on the grass was proof of the return of much needed moisture to the woods.  At peace, but understanding the feeling was an illusion created by the softness of life in Argent Glade, Anneleigh sought out Brougan Grote, the elf who had been steward of the town for as long as anyone could remember.

“Brougan?”  Anneleigh questioned as she approached his look out.  He appeared not to have aged a day since Mathosia.  It took a few moments to remember that many of the present day Guardians were ascended the same day she was.  “Brougan, I wondered if there was any way I could be of service to Argent Glade or to Silverwood?”

Brougan seemed to consider this for only a moment.  When he spoke, his voice conveyed the urgency of the task.  “There is something I would ask of you, Ascended.”  He began.  “It is a fragile peace we have, but I fear a storm is coming.  If Prince Hylas’s power is allowed to grow, I shudder to imagine what horrors he would unleash in a misguided attempt to protect Silverwood from Wanton flames.”

“Hylas is a member of the High Elf council.  Surely he would not harm the woods.”

“Oh my dear. “  Brougan said in alarm but then softened immediately. “Often we, those who have lived here in Silverwood, among the changes of the past twenty years, forget that you are not aware of the new order of Telara.”

“You speak of me?” Anneleigh questioned.  Times have surely changed if her fellow Elves feel the need to discuss one of their own behind closed doors.  In her time, there were no discussions hidden, no whispering among only the select.  The thought disarmed her for a moment.  She continued, slightly more guarded than before.  “Well then, if I am so far from the loop, please enlighten me so I might not put my ignorance on show in future.”   The statement sounded harsh and aquistory, but Anneleigh made no attempt to beg his pardon.

For his part, Brougan had the grace to look slightly ashamed.  “Let me start from the place fresh in your mind.  You remember Overwatch Keep?”  Brougan pointed to the east through the low tree canopy to the large fortress like structure visible from every point in Argent Glade and Quicksilver College.  Anneleigh nodded, Brougan continued.

“As you remember, it was once the meeting place of all Telara’s races; at the point in time when they joined forces to defeat Regulos and the Blood Storm.  It soon became the seat of high elf government, and the town of Argent Glade grew along side.”

“Yes, I remember.”  Anneleigh sighed.  So far, the conversation has amounted to little more than a history lesson. “Please continue.”

“One year ago, when Port Scion fell and the High Elves joined the Mathosians and Dwarves to officially create the Guardians of Telara, the council moved to Sanctum.”

“Sanctum?”  Anneleigh asked.  Here at last was a piece of new information.  “What is Sanctum?  Where?”

“Sanctum is now the seat of power for all of the Guardian Races.  It is built on a small island off the coast of Silverwood.  Borrin Gammult originally envisioned a great temple, but during construction of the Basilica the Port Scion fell.  The temple became a sanctuary for those who escaped.”

“I see.  I’m sorry for the diversion, please continue.”

“When the High Elf council moved to Sanctum,” Brougan went on, “the powerful Prince Hylas Aelfwar dissented.”

“I remember the house of Aelfwar, yes.”  Anneleigh says, interrupting again.  “He and his subjects refused to travel to Mathosia with us.  He said he would not subject his people to death in order to meddle in the affairs of men.” 

“Yes.”  Brougan answered.  “You have the correct understanding of him.  While Shyla and the others gave up their lives in service to the Vigil, those who stayed behind, loyal to the house of Aelfware rather than the Guardians had changed.  Their devotion to the wilds had grown fanatical.  They could not see reason.”

“I was like him.”  Anneleigh said quietly, ashamed of her weakness.  “When I left for Mathosia, I went under the guidance of Tavril, not the Vigil.”  She looked at her feet, refusing to meet his eyes.  Regret and shame burned in the corners of her eyes.

“And yet,” he said, softly, “you went and did your duty.  And I am sure I am right in thinking that your faith in Tavril has grown to include the entirety of the Vigil.”

Anneleigh shook her head, but looked up.  “Sometimes I still say my small prayers to Tavril herself.”

“And the other times?”

“Well,” Said Anneleigh, “Other times my prayers are better directed at Thontic, or Thedeor,  or Mariel-Taun….”

“In short, you recognize that together they are stronger than they could ever be apart.”

“I suppose.  Though, I’ve never thought about it in so many words.”

“Well, take no pity on Hylas.  He did not have your willingness to understand.  He argued that joining the Guardians would only make the High Elves weak in the fight against the Wanton hordes.  Prince Hylas refused our please for unity and remained at the Keep, gradually building an army of adherents that he calls House Aelfwar.”

“What is the Aelfwar situation now?”  Anneleigh asked.

“He feels it is his duty to protect Silverwood from the Wanton flames.  I fear, however, he will set about protecting the forest through yet other horrors.  He might yet be reasonable.   Our first steps must be to protect the woods from House Aelfwar.  Only after we are sure further damage can be prevented, will it be wise to confront Hylas himself.

“I understand. After all, what good would be served if we confront Hylas before these provisions have been made?  The damage will continue while negotiations are taking place.”

“I believe our first step of action should be to secure the Mirror of Ages.  Hylas seeks to secure the sanctuary.  Our connection to Tavril will be weakened unless we find a way to stop them.”