believed them--until now. "I thought
all of those stories about drawing mana from the moons was a
fable."
"Do not be so naive," Arnanor snapped, coming
out of his despair, ashamed to hear such foolishness from his own
blood. "You know, Muron, that our way of life and power is directly
linked to the formation of the moons. Without the heavens, we will
all die in vain!"
"This past month I have seen the beginnings
of the world's ruin," said Randor. "The harvest is small, and great
kingdoms are withering." Sighing, he confessed, "Even I become
weaker, and over time I will be destroyed."
"I will not let that happen," Gildan
proclaimed with all his heart. "You are too dear to me."
"I know," Randor answered softly. "You hold
my undying trust, my good elf."
"Excuse me, gentlemen," Lorn interrupted.
Gildan and Randor looked at the dwarf. "The food is ready if you
are hungry. It isn't much, but it's better than boiled thistle, at
least." He smiled and stoked the fire with a pine knot. This
particular camp, anyway, was not as bad as he had feared. After
studying the darkened meat, he brought the roasted birds one by one
away from the flames and passed them out to his companions. "Please
eat, everyone."
The food was devoured in a twinkling. Seth
uncorked the first water skin and passed it to Lorn. As it made its
way to Muron, the young prince drank and tried to give it to
Arnanor, who shook his head and refused to touch it. "Have some
water, brother," Muron encouraged.
"Sir Geil," Arnanor spoke regally.
Geil placed his half a partridge on the
forest floor and stood before his master at once. "At your command,
my liege."
"Bring my canteen from my steed at once."
"Yes, my lord." Geil hurried across the
clearing to the prince's horse and untied a hidden skin of pure
water from the North, which he brought to his master. After taking
a long drink, Arnanor passed the skin to Muron. Not wanting it,
Muron passed the Northern canteen to Geil.
Arnanor frowned and leaned over in anger.
"Give that back to Muron!" he yelled.
"But I have already drunk," the young prince
said, pointing at the skin of communal water. Arnanor snatched the
inferior canteen and flung it through the air, though Malander
caught it before it could burst on the ground.
"This hostility of yours cannot remain if you
wish to travel with me," Randor advised. "Set aside your arrogance
until you leave my side. This is one thing I insist on from
you."
Arnanor didn't acknowledge the wizard but
stared into the fire. "Who is he to tell me what to do?" he
muttered under his breath. "Foolish wizard."
"You know what I am capable of, Prince,"
Randor answered, hearing every word the elf spoke. "You will
respect me no matter what. You will also respect those around
you….We must band together for the purpose--search your heart for
the higher calling."
"You expect me to trust you ?" Arnanor blasted. "I have no
reason to!" He glared at Randor. "You admitted yourself that you do
not know where we are to go."
"Not even the wisest and eldest of creatures
know everything. I can only do what I can until my time on Londor
ends. Still I learn, even at this great age. I yearn for knowledge
so that I might pass it to those needing guidance."
"I find it hard to believe that with all your
years, not even one notion about the moon's vanishing speaks to
your soul," Arnanor said.
"I never assume, my proud but misguided
prince."
After this interchange, a mood of silence
settled over the company. The lone moon shone through a gap in the
canopy. No clouds blocked its view, and the company looked up, each
entertaining his own ideas about Beldas's disappearance. A gentle
breeze rustled the trees. Randor pondered long over what should be
done, but nothing came to him. His wisdom had failed him thus far,
but he had to put it right, for no other on Londor could complete
the task that was his to do. He then pondered whether the answer he
sought lay in the higher whisperings of the wind.
"Any
all of those stories about drawing mana from the moons was a
fable."
"Do not be so naive," Arnanor snapped, coming
out of his despair, ashamed to hear such foolishness from his own
blood. "You know, Muron, that our way of life and power is directly
linked to the formation of the moons. Without the heavens, we will
all die in vain!"
"This past month I have seen the beginnings
of the world's ruin," said Randor. "The harvest is small, and great
kingdoms are withering." Sighing, he confessed, "Even I become
weaker, and over time I will be destroyed."
"I will not let that happen," Gildan
proclaimed with all his heart. "You are too dear to me."
"I know," Randor answered softly. "You hold
my undying trust, my good elf."
"Excuse me, gentlemen," Lorn interrupted.
Gildan and Randor looked at the dwarf. "The food is ready if you
are hungry. It isn't much, but it's better than boiled thistle, at
least." He smiled and stoked the fire with a pine knot. This
particular camp, anyway, was not as bad as he had feared. After
studying the darkened meat, he brought the roasted birds one by one
away from the flames and passed them out to his companions. "Please
eat, everyone."
The food was devoured in a twinkling. Seth
uncorked the first water skin and passed it to Lorn. As it made its
way to Muron, the young prince drank and tried to give it to
Arnanor, who shook his head and refused to touch it. "Have some
water, brother," Muron encouraged.
"Sir Geil," Arnanor spoke regally.
Geil placed his half a partridge on the
forest floor and stood before his master at once. "At your command,
my liege."
"Bring my canteen from my steed at once."
"Yes, my lord." Geil hurried across the
clearing to the prince's horse and untied a hidden skin of pure
water from the North, which he brought to his master. After taking
a long drink, Arnanor passed the skin to Muron. Not wanting it,
Muron passed the Northern canteen to Geil.
Arnanor frowned and leaned over in anger.
"Give that back to Muron!" he yelled.
"But I have already drunk," the young prince
said, pointing at the skin of communal water. Arnanor snatched the
inferior canteen and flung it through the air, though Malander
caught it before it could burst on the ground.
"This hostility of yours cannot remain if you
wish to travel with me," Randor advised. "Set aside your arrogance
until you leave my side. This is one thing I insist on from
you."
Arnanor didn't acknowledge the wizard but
stared into the fire. "Who is he to tell me what to do?" he
muttered under his breath. "Foolish wizard."
"You know what I am capable of, Prince,"
Randor answered, hearing every word the elf spoke. "You will
respect me no matter what. You will also respect those around
you….We must band together for the purpose--search your heart for
the higher calling."
"You expect me to trust you ?" Arnanor blasted. "I have no
reason to!" He glared at Randor. "You admitted yourself that you do
not know where we are to go."
"Not even the wisest and eldest of creatures
know everything. I can only do what I can until my time on Londor
ends. Still I learn, even at this great age. I yearn for knowledge
so that I might pass it to those needing guidance."
"I find it hard to believe that with all your
years, not even one notion about the moon's vanishing speaks to
your soul," Arnanor said.
"I never assume, my proud but misguided
prince."
After this interchange, a mood of silence
settled over the company. The lone moon shone through a gap in the
canopy. No clouds blocked its view, and the company looked up, each
entertaining his own ideas about Beldas's disappearance. A gentle
breeze rustled the trees. Randor pondered long over what should be
done, but nothing came to him. His wisdom had failed him thus far,
but he had to put it right, for no other on Londor could complete
the task that was his to do. He then pondered whether the answer he
sought lay in the higher whisperings of the wind.
"Any
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