With today’s Daily Writing I return once again to my fantasy world known as the Realm. If you’ve been around for a while you’ve no doubt seen my as of yet unfinished attempts at bringing this world, its lands and inhabitants to life in Project Realm. If you’ve been around even longer you may have seen the first of my Daily Writings, also set in that very Realm. Today’s story is very much an introductory scene to major events taking place some time before the earlier story. Unfortunately I haven’t been able to delve too deep into details here, so as to not get too massive a piece, and things still remain mostly a mystery, but I hope it will be enjoyable nonetheless. A few small notes: 1) Amólith is ‘only’ king of the High Elves here and hasn’t united the Realm yet. 2) Haráthiel is Amólith’s mother. 3) The Ten are an organization of very powerful Elven mages, each of them a specialist in a specific field of magic. Now, please enjoy! ^_^
“Could it not be the work of the Dark Riders?” Amólith looked around the Citadel’s council hall, seeking someone, anyone to agree with his suggestion. In his heart, though, he knew it wasn’t so much a question he really expected a positive answer to, but more an attempt to give himself some hope, hope that their foe would actually be the Dark Riders. They were a fearsome enemy for certain, but at least they were an enemy they actually knew how to fight. Although he could not yet figure out why he had a feeling the alternative would be much worse. “It would not have been the first time they would have dabbled in necromancy,” the king continued his attempt.
“I’ve had my best people keeping close watch on their territory ever since their attack on Godlagrin,” Haráthiel, the king’s chief military advisor and leader of the elusive Wood Elf Shadow Warriors, swiftly answered. “They do anything, I know about it.”
The old man seated next to Amólith stroked his white beard and joined the commander in shooting down the assumption. “I thought I taught you better than that, Amólith.” His voice was calm but there was a strictness about it, almost containing an air of disappointment. “You’ve witnessed the Dark Riders’ necromancy firsthand. You know this is nothing like the way they operate.”
Amólith smiled wryly and reverently nodded his head. The old man who had trained and taught the Elven king nearly all he knew was among the few able to address the king so informally without drawing attention to it. “You are correct, of course, Grand Master.”
“Of course I am!” the Grand Master immediately replied with his usual gleeful grin, but his face turned back to serious within a moment. “To raise the dead on such a scale, though. I know none capable of that, at least none who…” His eyes narrowed, his gnarled hands clenched into fists. “Still live…” he continued in an only slightly audible whisper. Silence fell over the room as none dared to interrupt the Grand Master’s thoughts. It was short-lived, though, as the old man quickly turned to the patrol captain standing before them, one of the few who had witnessed the recent events and lived to tell the tale. “Think hard and think quick now. What else have you witnessed. Specific people, uniforms, weapons? Don’t leave anything out. This is very important!”
The captain thought for a moment and not certain how to put his reply into words. Then he nodded, though he appeared nervous from being put on the spot like this, breathing heavily and starting to sweat. “Well… There were… There were two people at the centre, of it all, both somewhat Elvish, but not quite. One I didn’t recognize, but he was, definitely a necromancer, long robes, almost ancient looking… Raised scores of our dead like it was nothing.” He paused, catching his breath. “And the other, well… An elementalist of incredible power. Red robes, and an amulet, with…” The captain gulped. He looked up, facing each of the council members, then looked specifically at Amólith and the Grand Master. He seemed fearful of his next words and continued only barely audible. “The sigil of the Earth Dwarf court…”
Dead silence followed. Amólith sat upright, immediately turning to his old mentor with uncertainty and even a hint of fear in his dark eyes. The Grand Master looked ahead with a saddened look. Letting out a deep sigh he lifted himself from his seat. “Gather the Ten,” he ordered strictly. “Now!” He then looked his old student in the eye and they gave each other an affirming nod, both knowing this reunion was not going to be a pleasant one.