Source Of The River (4 page)

D
eep in the forests of the Vale, Lenora sat
patiently awaiting the arrival of her dryad sisters. Though she was an elf, she
had spent the past several years studying under the guidance of the dryads. Her
talent for healing arts was well nurtured here among the forests, and she
enjoyed learning as much as she could.

The dryads had taught her about dozens of
different plants and their medicinal properties. Through their knowledge of
earth magic, they had also taught her new spells that could be used to heal the
sick. The trees themselves were not immune to disease, and Lenora was still
learning how best to go about healing them. Though her kind were not
susceptible to most diseases, it was a skill worth learning and remembering.
Times were uncertain, and it was best to remain prepared.

A silvery-skinned dryad made her way to Lenora,
her leafy hair fluttering on the breeze as she walked. The sunlight filtered
down through the trees, giving her skin a shimmery appearance. Though her body
seemed covered in rough bark, her skin was quite soft.

“Well met, Sister,” the silver dryad said.

“Good morning,” Lenora replied.

The two sat side by side on a fallen log. Lenora
was eager to show her dryad sister a salve she had been working on, hoping she
had gotten the ingredients correct this time. She handed the ceramic bowl
filled with yellow-green paste to the dryad.

“It’s the right color this time,” she said
approvingly. Holding up the bowl to her nose, she breathed deeply, inhaling the
strong odor of the salve. “I think you’ve got it right this time. Let’s test
it.”

Rising from the log, Lenora followed the dryad to
a berry bush whose leaves had been covered in dark blotches. The plant looked
wilted and sorrowful, and it was plainly suffering from disease.

Handing the dish to Lenora, the dryad said, “Apply
a small amount to the leaves, and place the rest at its base.”

Lenora obeyed, gently rubbing the salve into each
leaf of the ailing plant. There were many leaves, and the task required a great
amount of delicacy to avoid further damaging them. Methodically she tended each
leaf, all the while willing her mind to focus healing energy. Placing her hands
at the plant’s base, her eyes began to sparkle. A white glow spread from her
hands and down into the earth, making its way deep into the soil. As the
plant’s roots started to heal, the wilted leaves once again regained their
strength.

“The spots will take time to heal, but you have
done well,” the dryad said.

Lenora smiled sweetly and brushed a hand over the
leaves. “Earth magic is truly a wonder,” she said, standing.

“Earth magic has no room for selfishness or
corruption,” the dryad replied. “What you have learned will help you as a
healer of all living things.”

“I believe you are right,” Lenora agreed. “I have
learned many things here among your kind. I was not born with a talent for
earth magic, and I had no idea I would ever learn any of it. You’ve truly
opened my eyes to new possibilities.”

“There is much more you will learn in time,
Lenora,” the dryad stated assuredly. “There is much still ahead of you, and
there are other magical creatures willing to teach you.”

Lenora was intrigued by those words. From a young
age, she knew she wanted to be a healer like her mother. Her mother, however,
focused only on potions and basic spells. Lenora yearned to learn from other
schools of magic and to incorporate those skills into the healing arts. Because
they were not susceptible to disease and had almost no contact with the outside
world, the Westerling Elves had forgotten many of the skills necessary to heal
the sick and injured. Lenora was determined to learn what had been lost.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, both Lenora
and the dryad halted their conversation. Amid the deep-green foliage of the
forest, they saw the outline of a dark-haired elf.

“Hello there,” Galen said as he pushed his way
past a low limb.

River emerged behind him, his eyes falling past
the dryad and onto Lenora. His heart fluttered for a second as he looked upon
her. She wore a simple apricot dress, which was easily outshone by her bright-gold
tresses. The sight of her slender, shapely form silhouetted against the
sunlight nearly took his breath away. Her pale eyes returned his gaze, and she
smiled politely.

Galen glanced over his shoulder, making sure River
was still there. Looking back to Lenora, he said, “We’ve come looking for you,
Lenora.”

With surprise, River looked at Galen, wondering
how he knew this woman. Theirs was the only remaining village of Westerling
Elves, and he could not recall ever meeting this lovely creature before. He did
not believe it possible that he hadn’t noticed her earlier.

“What do you need of me?” Lenora asked.

“You’re a skilled healer, and there is some
trouble in the village.”

“Surely my mother can deal with it,” Lenora
replied, a little confused.

“Mother?” River asked, stunned. “You’re Myla’s
daughter?” His heart dropped at the prospect.

“I am,” she replied. “I’ve been away studying for
some time, so it’s no surprise you don’t remember me.”

River felt ashamed to have met Lenora previously
and not remember her now. She was captivating, and he yearned to know her
better. Finding no words, he remained silent.

“Your mother wants nothing to do with the matter,”
Galen said.

“There is an illness affecting the dwarves in the
mountains,” River explained. “One of them fell into the river and drowned. I
believe the illness might have a magical origin, and it might have something to
do with water.”

Galen glanced at him, wrinkling his brow.
Apparently River knew a bit more than he was sharing with his cousin.

“It sounds interesting,” Lenora admitted.

“Will you come with us?” Galen asked.

Lenora turned to the dryad who nodded her
approval.

“I will,” she replied. “I am due to return for my
Coming of Age Ceremony anyway.”

River held his breath as she came nearer, unable
to take his eyes off her. She blushed a little, noticing his gaze. Galen was
not unaware of his friend’s actions either. He shook his head and suppressed a
laugh.

“So,” River began awkwardly, “you’re coming of age
this year?”

“Last year, actually,” Lenora replied with a
laugh. “I’ve been too busy studying to bother with it.”

“Fantastic,” Galen broke in. “Another bookworm
among us.” He elbowed River playfully.

The trio marched quietly through the woods, the soft
grass making little noise beneath their feet. River struggled in his mind to
find some words to speak to Lenora but feared he might trip over his own
tongue.

A
fter spending
the past several days intensely studying the ancient scrolls, Telorithan and
Yiranor were ready to attempt the forbidden magic. They had discussed the
technique repeatedly as they pored over the texts, eagerly drinking in their
forgotten lessons. The scrolls contained more information than Telorithan could
have hoped for. Everything he needed had been locked away inside his former
master’s library.

“We’ll be needing a test subject,” Telorithan
declared. “The question is, who can we use?”

Yiranor swallowed and took a deep breath. The idea
of soul binding had always fascinated him, but he was hesitant to test it on a
live subject. “Perhaps a rodent,” he suggested.

Telorithan laughed, tossing his head back. “No,
that won’t do. It must be an elf.”

A quiet knock came from the door before a young
elf woman entered carrying a bottle of wine and two silver goblets on a tray.
Yiranor motioned her to come in.

“Leave it on the table,” he ordered her.

“Yes, Master,” she replied. Hesitating at the
door, she turned and asked, “Will you be coming down for dinner or shall I
bring it up?”

Yiranor glanced at Telorithan, who was ignoring
the woman. “I’ll send for you when we’re ready to dine,” he replied. The young
elf gave a polite curtsy and closed the door behind her as she left.

Telorithan eyed the closed door, a contemplative
expression on his face. “There is someone we could use. Someone no one would
miss.”

“Not the maid,” Yiranor protested. “She’s a sweet
girl and always does as she’s told.” His heart raced, fearing he might have to
stand up to his former student. He wasn’t sure he would have the strength, and
in a fight, Telorithan was sure to win.

“Not her,” Telorithan said. “You said you caught a
thief prowling outside your home weeks ago. He still resides in your dungeons,
does he not?”

With relief, Yiranor replied, “Yes, he does.”
Though the elf was a criminal, Yiranor was hesitant to use him as a test
subject for dark magic.

“And he deserves to be punished,” Telorithan said,
attempting to persuade the old elf. “I can’t think of a better person to use.”
He rose from his seat and grabbed the wine bottle on the wooden table nearby.
Filling both glasses, he handed one to Yiranor, who slowly pressed it to his
lips. Telorithan stopped for a moment to admire his reflection in the silver
goblet. His stunning blue eyes sparkled with delight at the sight of himself.

After a moment’s contemplation, Yiranor nodded.
“It seems almost too harsh a punishment,” he declared. “The scrolls say that
the soul lives on in torment once bound.”

“Then it’s a perfect punishment,” Telorithan
replied, setting his goblet down hard. “Let’s get started.”

Hesitating for less than a second, Yiranor led his
former student down the winding staircase to the lowest level of his tower. A
thick iron gate barred the way into the cellar, where many of the master
sorcerer’s experiments had taken place. It was true he had practiced magic on
elves in the past, but they had been his apprentices and were willing to
undergo experimentation. This was different. He was about to engage in a
forbidden act, torturing a living elf in the process.

With a wave of his hand, Telorithan unlocked the
gate. The spell was simple enough to cast, and he did not have the patience to
await his former master’s final attempt at stalling. Swinging open the door,
the two entered the gray-stone underbelly of the tower. It was surprisingly
bright due to the excess of torches lining the walls. Yiranor was of advanced
age and required the extra light to look upon his work.

Chained to a far wall was a dark-haired elf with
large purple bruises all over his body. He made no movement at the sound of the
two men approaching.

“My apprentices have been using him to train
various spells,” Yiranor admitted.

Telorithan nodded approvingly. He moved in close
to the prisoner, looking him up and down. The thief shifted uneasily in his
chains, sensing the danger he was about to face. Telorithan met his gaze, and a
wicked smile spread across his lips.

“This should be fun,” he said.

The chained elf began to breathe heavier, his
chest visibly rising and falling. Telorithan was amused by the elf’s fear, but Yiranor
was having second thoughts.

“Perhaps we should—” he started to say.

Throwing up a hand to silence the old elf,
Telorithan loudly commanded him to hold his tongue. “I will take care of this.
You can go and hide if you need to.” He had lost all patience with his former
master. No one would deprive him of this opportunity to practice.

“Release me and fight fairly, at least,” the thief
stated boldly. “Or are you frightened of me?”

His words angered Telorithan, and he lifted both
hands, sending flames through the shackles that held the thief to the wall. As
the metal changed from cool gray to red, the elf screamed in agony. The metal
soon liquefied and dripped to the floor, forming two small silver puddles. The
thief sank to his knees, cradling each wrist in turn. His skin was blistered
and darkened where the shackles had been.

“You may resist if you can,” Telorithan said with
a huff. From the pocket of his robe, he pulled a pale-purple gemstone that was
nearly the size of a walnut. Holding it tightly in his left hand, he extended
his right palm forward toward the thief. A beam of purple light emitted from
his hand and quickly surrounded the kneeling elf. Yiranor could not contain a
gasp as he stepped backward away from the magic.

A cry of agony pierced the air as the thief was
lifted from his feet. Excitement rose in Telorithan’s eyes as he concentrated
on his target. His left hand trembled slightly as the gem called for the
essence it desired to contain. Opening his left hand to allow the magic to
pass, the beam dissipated from his right hand while the glow released its hold
on the thief. The elf crumpled lifelessly to the ground, leaving only a small
circular light where he had once knelt. The light drifted slowly toward the gem
in Telorithan’s hand and flashed brightly as it entered its prison. The spell
had been successful.

Telorithan held up the gem to examine it. His eyes
gleamed as he beheld the swirling mist of light inside the stone. The thief’s
essence had been contained, and his power now rested fully under Telorithan’s
control.

“Remarkable,” Yiranor whispered as he stepped
forward once more. “You’ve done it.”

“Of course I have,” Telorithan replied haughtily,
sticking the gem back into his pocket. “Why would you ever doubt me?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Yiranor replied
apologetically. “That thief had been down here for weeks, though. You might find
a stronger enemy more difficult to contain.”

Telorithan wrinkled his brow and stared at him.
“You think I can’t handle a real sorcerer?”

Concerned for his own safety, Yiranor quickly
replied, “No, I only mean you may need more practice. This was only your first
attempt on an elf.”

“You could be right,” Telorithan admitted. “Are
you volunteering yourself?” He laughed, knowing that his former master feared
him.

Yiranor could not hide the embarrassment on his face.
“I will do what I can to help you,” he said. “You know I will.”

“Good,” Telorithan replied. “I may have need of
you again. For now, I’ll be going. There is much I still need to prepare.”

Yiranor nodded and watched as his former pupil
headed back up the stairs of his tower.
The Sunswept Isles will never be
safe with him around. His heart is dark, and this new skill will only make him
worse.
For a brief moment, Yiranor regretted his involvement in aiding
Telorithan to learn this dark magic. He would be partially responsible for any
deaths that resulted. Still, he could not help but feel pride in the young elf
he had once nurtured. His ambition had already taken him far, and now with the
ability to extract the life essence from his opponents, Telorithan would be
unstoppable. His dream of trapping the soul of a god might not prove so far out
of his reach.