IN the days when Æryx was still young, the powers gathered in the heavens and did battle. In those days the Councils were mighty. But other powers had arisen from the Darkness and sought to contend with the Councils. The greatest amongst those who had arisen from the Darkness was Dorlak.

In those days there were five Councils; Tuhor-Emrou, Enola, Frea, Ayo-Laver and Mena. Greatest of these was Tuhor-Emrou. Tuhor-Emrou in those days was led by Gaflus. The members were Thaolus, Nafor and Phoetar.

Enola was led by Sindere. The other members were Sowle, Arba, Arfael, Kwe, Berina and Anawel.

Of Frea, Ayo-Laver and Mena, though much is known, little of them will be spoken of here. Their part was insignificant as they left Æryx  before the war began. They would later return for a time, and those of the other Councils that remain know of their exploits in those times.

The war of the Powers had long been looming. The powers that had arisen from the Darkness sought to steal the power of the five Councils. In the Darkness they festered and for many ages they watched.

With the passage of time, they grew restless. They wished to go forth and make war against the Councils, but the light was too powerful for them. And so they came together and put forth all their might and a great Darkness fell upon Æryx . The Councils of Enola and Tuhor-Emrou came together and made plans for war. The other Councils did not come and shortly before the war began, they left Æryx .

“Sindere! You are greatest of your Council. Let us together put forth our power against the Darkness. Whilst we contend with it, the rest shall subdue the enemies.”

It was Gaflus who spoke these words.

“Let us go. Remember, the Darkness is a great power in itself. Our powers shall be spent. Ensure that the enemies are overcome before we fall. Phoetar, you shall lead our Council into battle.”

“I choose Anawel to lead in my stead.”

And so it was that the Councils went to war against the Darkness. In the Lands of Slionor, they descended as the battle intensified. For a long time the Council tried to push the enemies back whence they came.

Now Gaflus and Sindere contended with the Darkness. At first they pressed the Darkness and those that wielded it. But after a while, Sindere began to falter. The Darkness began to overwhelm them. Gaflus, whose power was greater than that of Sindere put forth all his strength and held the Darkness at bay. Then Sindere spoke to him and said: “Great Gaflus, our enemies are mighty. We cannot hope to hold them back for much longer. This weapon they have forged is much too strong for us. You know what must be done. It is I who has to do it.” Gaflus did not remonstrate. He knew Sindere was right. In that hour Sindere died and from him came the blue flame that overwhelmed the Darkness and pushed the enemies back. In that hour Æryx  was forever changed as there occurred the first great shifting of the lands. After the enemies had been defeated the blue flames settled on four of the highest peaks in Æryx . Of the four, only one was ever revealed to mortals: Mount Esquedӧr.

FOR many an age after the councils battled the Darkness in the lands now known as Slionor, east of the great forest, there was peace in Æryx . Many creatures arose and thrived in that time.  Of these creatures, only three held supremacy in Æryx : The race of Men, The Irendir and the Dwarves of Grimrawal. Of these three greatest were men for with the passage of time they became vast in number and their kingdoms spread throughout all parts of Æryx  save the continent of Grimrawal.

The Dwarves of Grimrawal were a great marvel of Æryx . They occupied the continent of Grimrawal which was by far the largest in Æryx . So vast is Grimrawal that none has ever accurately charted it upon a map.

The Irendir were least populous of the three great races. In many tongues they were known as the Giants. They were slow to increase but firmly held a vast kingdom in the Northlands of Æryx .  It is said that at some point some of them moved to the lands beyond the sea in large ships.

Long after the awakening of the first mortals, those that lived in the Northlands were scattered throughout as many tribes. Then came the time of the conquerors from across the sea. Many battles were fought but the tribes of the Northlands were scattered and new to the ways of war and so the conquerors were victorious. For many ages the conquerors – the Khuans – ruled the Northlands. The first king was Khuenti the conqueror, Khuenti the Sea Dragon, Khuenti Strong-Wave. For a long time the rulers of the Northlands were direct descendants of Khuenti the conqueror and the age was known as Khuan-ren – the rule of the Khuans. There were many other rulers after Khuenti; there was Selendi the Ancient who is said to have reined for well-nigh seventy years; Miliari the White-haired, who built many roads which endured for many ages including the highway of Bernthar. One of the most famous Kings of the rule of the Khuan was Illiria, known as the benevolent. His rule saw the peak of the prosperity of the Northlands. It was he who introduced and established a system of self-rule amongst the chiefdoms of the tribes that eventually led to the fall of the age of the Khuans. The last of ruler from the age of the Khuans was Khuelenti who was known as the cruel queen. She sought to reverse the decrees of King Illiria which brought about self-rule for the tribes. It was under her rule that the tribes rebelled and out of the ashes of that rebellion, the kingdoms of the Northlands were born.

EVEN as Dorlak remained cloaked in the Darkness, he watched the growing of the Mortals. And he observed that the Councils took the forms of men and walked among them. He therefore sent forth one of the lesser ones that dwelt with him in the Darkness and instructed him thus: “Go amongst the men and take their form. When I summon you, return hither and give full report.” And the creature of Darkness did as he had been instructed for Dorlak was mightiest among them. But Dorlak had other ideas in mind. He wished to see how long his servant would walk among men, hidden from the eyes of the Councils. The Councils knew immediately that one of the Dark ones had taken human form and Anawel gave chase.

Dorlak saw this and was displeased. For a while he remained still in thought until he stumbled upon a solution. And he turned to his subjects within the Darkness (for he had displayed his might over all others and become lord) and said: “Our time has come. We shall once again make war on the Councils and we shall prevail.” And so the Darkness assaulted the mortals of Æryx  and the Councils were quick to respond. Whilst his followers battled the Councils, Dorlak put his plan to action. This was Dorlak's thought: 'I must cloak myself in the flesh of the mortals. But I do not know how to forge that substance and the Councils are quick to detect our presence among the mortals. I shall therefore place myself in the womb of a woman at the moment of conception.' Dorlak then looked at the many kingdoms of Æryx  and chose one whose territory was vast and whose military was strong. But most of all he detested the good King that ruled that land. Lendoria was the name of the kingdom.

At the time when the second battle of the powers began, King Edrea was on the throne of Lendoria. Edrea was an old man for he had ruled for six and sixty years but he was strong. His wife Basea had died many, many years before during child birth. His only son Fen had one daughter by his wife Elea. Fen died young in a battle long since forgotten. His daughter's name was Atalera. Atalera had only just gotten married to a young prince from one of the provinces of Lendoria. His name was Golwader.

Now Dorlak had chosen Atalera to be his host. 'I shall possess her child at the moment of conception, before a mortal soul takes root.' And so it was that on the sixty sixth year of Edrea's rule, evil came into Lendoria and cloaked itself in the flesh of mortals and was hidden from the eyes of the Councils.

The second battle of the powers was fierce for though Dorlak the leader of Darkness was absent there were others mighty in their own right. But eventually the Councils pressed the Darkness and they retreated. They won swiftly by the reckoning of those immortal beings but for the mortals the battle lasted many years and they understood not what was happening for whilst the war lasted, the ground underneath them quaked and heavy clouds gathered in the heavens. There were great peals of thunder but no rain.

And Nafor called for a meeting of Tuhor-Emrou and Enola for he was disturbed by the absence of Dorlak and the doings of the Darkness. 'We have once again battled the Darkness. We had to put forth all our combined strength to keep them at bay.' Nafor said.

'But we were victorious great Nafor.' Anawel said.

'This is true Anawel, but I am disquieted for though victory was ours, greatest amongst our adversary was not in the field of battle. I fear that this long battle was but a contrivance to keep us from seeing his actual workings.'

'What Nafor says bears great weight Enola. We must undo the workings of Dorlak ere they ripen.' Spoke Gaflus of Tuhor-Emrou.

'I recognize that a great threat is upon us but how are we to undo the workings of Dorlak? We know not where he is or what he plots.' It was Berina of Enola who spoke thus. And all were quiet, pondering this question.

Then Phoetar of Tuhor-Emrou rose and spoke. 'We can do nothing except watch. We must watch for the Darkness and we must watch the mortals. We must never remove our gaze from them. We must be vigilant in this for I foresee great strife in Æryx .'

Thus the Councils were parted once again and for a long time the name of Dorlak was not uttered.

Even as the Councils battled the Darkness, Dorlak grew in the womb of princess Atalera and in the fullness of time he was born. 'Ferworg' Atarela named him for her pain was great in the hour of birth and she had no love for her offspring.

In the days following the rise of Ferwog to the throne of Lendoria, the first capital of Lendoria was moved from Zygor to the southern town of Iber. In the days of King Edrea the town had been a thriving farming town. There was much trade between the Piemite town of Hur and Iber. Most goods that moved between Lendoria and Piem were transported through the two towns. Traders often moved between those two cities. In fact with the passage of time a new language had arisen that was spoken in both towns.

But all that had changed. Rapidly had Iber transformed into a vast city with high walls and an impressive citadel. So vast had the city become that naught but cold gray brick could be seen as far as one could cast ones eye standing in the highest tower of the citadel. The lesser Medmenel had grown rank and putrescent with the waste of Iber as it flowed toward Larweh Hills of the Great Northern Range. Even the trees of Irendir and the Great Forest receded away from Iber until there was only a thin belt of trees growing at the feet of the Great Northern Range.

Everything had changed. Even the people were greatly changed. Wedroe and Gwena had yet to come to terms with the changes that had taken place in Iber in little over two years. When last they had crossed the border, they were children accompanying their father who was a farmer and a tradesman. For four months every year they would cross over to Iber with their produce and would sell it in the market places of Iber and whatever was left they would exchange with other goods which they would in turn sell in Hur. Business had been thriving in those days. But soon after the death of King Edrea, trade had declined between the two towns. No longer did their father take them with him to Iber. Now their father was dead and they were in dire need of money. Many tales had reached them of the changes in Iber and so they had decided to go and see for themselves. Wedroe had hoped to find a better life in that new grand city. The tale of Wedroe and Gwena is a tale of great sadness, and yet much of what would later befall the Northlands is irreversibly entangled within it.

“I really think we should go back home.” Gwena said, as they stood outside the city walls of Iber.

“We cannot go back now. Look at that. Is it not amazing?” Wedroe said in response to his sister’s reluctance.

They had been travelling for many days from Hur and their horses were spent. It had been nigh two days since their horses had been fed and their own rations were finished. Wedroe did not care. The majesty of the wall that stood before him was a promise of the many opportunities that were awaiting him on the other side.

“I doubt even the Irendir can see over that wall. Come, Gwena. Let us step into the future.”

Most of the gates into Iber were north and east of the city. South there were two gates, very far apart. It was nearly half a day before they finally found one of the gates. The gate was not large.

“The gate is locked. This is a sign, Wedroe.”

“You there! State your business or be killed where you stand!” The voice came from a compartment built into the wall on one side of the gate. There was a small window and only part of the speaker’s face could be seen.

“We are tradesmen from Hur. We have come to Iber to sell our goods. Iber is much changed. The stories were true, I see.” Wedroe replied.

“Iber is a gated city now. There is a levy to be paid by traders to allow them entrance. Twenty Shadras.”

“Isn’t that a bit pricy?”

“Pay or leave.”

“Wedroe this is not worth it. Even if we sell all our merchandise, we will make little over ten Shadras.” Gwena said.

“Here,” Wedroe said, handing over a bag of coinage to the guard. “In that bag there are fifteen Shadras. It is all the money we have. We will be able to pay the remaining five Shadras after we’ve sold off all our goods.”

The guard remained silent. Then he was gone.

“Hey you! Guard! At least…” Wedroe began to shout but was interrupted by the sound of the gate opening.

“Welcome to Iber.” The Guard was a short stout man. He had on a helmet that hid most of his features. “Welcome,” He repeated extending an arm out to Gwena. She hesitated for a moment but then decided that it would be wiser to oblige the guard. The guard took her hand gently and took a low bow. With his body still bowed, he pulled off his helmet and tossed it to the ground.

“Iber welcomes you both.” He said. Even as he spoke, his head remained bowed. Then suddenly his grip on Gwena’s hand tightened and he raised his head and looked straight into Gwena’s eyes. Gwena’s countenance grew pale and her legs failed her and she fell to the ground.

“Get the boy! We shall send them to the Eastern wall!”

Wedroe rushed to his sister’s side. Suddenly, as if out of nowhere, three men appeared behind the guard. Wedroe’s head was reeling. ‘I have to get you out of here.’ He thought, as he struggled to lift his sister. Before he could get back on his feet, one of the men jumped at him and knocked him back onto the ground.

Wedroe looked up, confused and afraid. The man that knocked him down was standing above him and his shadow fell upon them. As he looked into to the man’s eyes fear as he had never known before overwhelmed him. In vain he tried to struggle to his feet. Then the man swung his hand and Wedroe was ushered into darkness.

When finally he awoke, Wedroe found himself in a moving carriage and he was not alone. His head throbbed and his vision was blurred. He shook his head and tried to focus. As his vision improved, he realized that all the people in the carriage were men. His sister was not there with him. The men spoke to each other in a tongue that was not familiar to him. They spoke in whispers and there was fear in their eyes.

“Where are they taking us?” he said a loud, hoping that someone understood his language.

Silence. They all stared at him.

“We are on Veregond road. They are taking us to the eastern wall. We shall build the eastern wall till we drop dead. Then our bodies shall be tossed into the lesser Medmenel. The river grows rank with the bodies of the dead.” Although Wedroe had spoken in his own tongue, the person who spoke replied in the common tongue – the tongue that had developed between the people of Hur and Iber. Wedroe squeezed through the tightly clustered bodies searching for the person who had spoken.

“Over here.” The man said, signaling Wedroe to come nearer. “I am Orrthea. My father is Fareaund. He is the man that oversees the slaves’ camp.” Orrthea was a young man, around Wedroe’s age. His countenance was thin and his nose, long and crooked. His head was bald but he had a long scruffy beard which made him look haggardly. His skin was sallow and a there was a horrible sickly stench about him. Wedroe thought of retreating but he had questions.

“I am Wedroe of Hur. I am a merchant. Rumor of what had happened had reached us in Hur but it seems that the truth in its entirety had not reached us. My sister has been taken by these solders. Where have they taken her?”

“Probably to tower Iriah. Captain Irion dwells in the northern tower. He is King Ferwog’s first captain. The women, if young and beautiful, are taken to his tower. There they serve him. When their beauty begins to fade, they too will be sent to the Eastern wall.”

Wedroe pondered Orrthea’s words for a moment. He knew there was no way of breaking out of the carriage. Even if he could somehow manage that, the solders would probably kill him before he got far. He was riddled with guilt. It was he who had persuaded Gwena to travel with him to Iber. He had refused to turn back even at the very gate of Iber despite Gwena’s misgivings. He would have to rescue his sister. There was no other option.

“WE have acquired more slaves from Slionor. Their civil war continues to be profitable for us.” The person who spoke these words was Captain Irion Faledoon. A young man, he was – not yet thirty. He was square of jaw and slender of countenance. His eyes were large and dark and a thick mono-brow hovered ostentatiously above them. Young though he was, his hair grew scantily atop his head and one or two folds had formed on his face that falsely suggested that he was older than he actually was. Yet he was a tall man and robust. His voice was deep and he spoke with authority. “Ferwog, what has caught your eye?” he asked, noticing that the person to whom he was speaking had taken no notice of him but was instead looking intently outside the window.

“Come here.” Commanded Ferwog, his voice soft, gentle…cold. “Do you see that girl over there? She is to be moved to fort Anhedreas immediately. She is to be bathed and clothed well… and fed. She is to await my return.”

“As you command. About Slionor…”

“Were my instructions not clear Irion?” Ferwog turned to face Irion. Irion ran out of the chamber to pass on the order. He returned a moment later. Ferwog was still staring intently at the girl.

“We shall attack Slionor when they are at their weakest. Let them kill one another. For now, let us turn our attentions to Irendir.”

“All preparations are ready. We ride for Irendir tomorrow.”

GWENA sat silently in her tiny cell. It had been almost five days since she had been moved to fort Anhedreas. The new city of Iber baffled her. It was vast and it was cold. Even on days when the sun seemed to glare at the city with all its veracity and energy, the streets and halls remained cold. But it wasn’t that that most baffled Gwena. It was the people. There was something in their eyes that caused her to tremble in fear. “A malevolence.” One of the women that she had shared quarters with back at Irion’s tower had said.

“Are we to be their servants?” Gwena had asked. “Servants? Nooo.” the loquacious woman had replied with a mirthless laugh. We are slaves. We shall work and the servants shall whip us. And when they are done with us, they shall send us to the eastern wall. There we shall work till we die and our carcasses shall litter the land outside Iber all the way to the lesser Medmenel.”

She had served at Irion’s tower for two days and already her back had been raw with slashes from the whip. Now she was in fort Anhedreas and the reason she had been brought hither remained unknown to her. She spent her days in tears. She pondered her fate and wondered about her brother. When night came, she slept and dreamt of death and the corpses that lay east of Iber ‘all the way to the lesser Medmenel’.

Her cell was windowless and so not much light reached her. There was a small grill a top the door to her cell. The torches that lit the hallway outside her confinement were the only source of light that she had. In the darkness she waited. Each passing day became less agonizing than the previous one and the mystery of her fate taxed not her mind.

“HEDRIA, the King has requested that the girl be presented to him.” Abros the head of the King’s household told Hedria the king’s dresser. Abros was a short corpulent fellow with a flat countenance and an aggressive beard. Hedria was in stark contrast very tall, lean and aquiline of countenance. Since the woman from Hur had been brought from Fort Iriah to Anhedreas, Hedria had been given the additional task of taking care of the woman – a duty that he had performed faithfully.

“Come. You are to be bathed and clothed in preparation for an audience with the King.” Hedria said to the girl when he descended to her cell. The girl did not speak. Hedria took her by the arm and led her out of the cell. As they stepped out of the door, the girl – Gwena covered her eyes with her free hand. She had grown accustomed to the dimness of her confinement. “It is very cold.” The girl whispered. Hedria remained silent. He did not care for the girl’s whimpering. She was to be dressed and clothed. That was his duty.

As her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, the vast hallway became clear and Gwena marveled at the high walls. The hall way was empty except for the two of them. Occasionally they would pass under the statues of gargoyles arching high above them, looking down. At the end of the hall, there was a staircase. The climb was long. The staircase terminated in a large hall. Suddenly there were people everywhere. There were men carrying barrels and women pots. Others had long parchments in hand whilst others carried fine linen. Butchers run by with pounds of flesh either on their heads or on their backs while musicians dragged their instruments about. Hedria led Gwena through the thick of business, across the hall to the other end where there were two flights of stairs; one going up and the other leading down. Hedria led her to the flight leading up. At the end of that particular flight of stairs, they were met by four women. They were all taller than Gwena. Though they were very beautiful, they did not surpass Gwena in this aspect.  “Take her to the bath. She is to be presented to the King this evening.”

‘It is strange,” Hedria thought as he took in the fragrance of lavender that emanated from the steaming bath reached his nose. ‘To think that this woman should one day be queen. She will be interested in this bit of news.’ Hedria descended down the stairs and disappeared amongst the other servants. 

The four women that led Gwena into the bath did not speak a word to her. They handled her gently as one would a precious vase. When they were done disrobing her, they led her into the steaming bath. A thick musky fragrance of miscellaneous perfumes filled the air. The water felt warm against her skin. It was the first time she’d felt warmth since she came to Iber. After she had entered the bath, the four women disrobed and joined her. Gwena could hardly see them in the steam till they were very close to her. She remained rooted to the spot, not knowing what to do. She had long since submitted herself to whatever fate awaited her. Each of the women had a skin bottle in hand. One of them went behind Gwena and poured out the content of her bottle on her head. The substance, whatever it was, was thick and unctuous. The woman then gently massaged the substance into Gwena’s scalp. A second woman poured the contents of her bottle into a piece of cloth and began to rub it gently against her body. This was repeated by the third and fourth woman.

After the bath, two of the women dried her up and led her to another chamber. The chamber was located on the same hall as the bath but was on the far end. It was a large room and spacious. A large room with large arching windows draped with gray curtains which matched the wall. There was a bed in the room and on it was a red robe which Gwena recognized to be made of diamond silk – a silk so fine and rare in Piem only royalty wore such robes. It was a dazzling robe, skillfully embroidered with jet black pearls.

One of the women sat Gwena on the bed and combed her hair. When she was done, they dressed Gwena in the robe and left the room. ‘I have resigned myself to my fate.’ Gwena thought to herself. She was alone once again as she had been in the cells. She shivered lightly for she was cold. But fear was now stirring in her heart. The coating of numbness that had enveloped her heart was withering away. ‘Have I not resigned myself to whatever fate has for me? I cannot be saved and I cannot save myself. Why do I suddenly fear death?’

“Gwena of Hur, you are beautiful.” The coldness of that voice pierced Gwena’s heart like a sharp dagger. She looked up and beauty was standing before her unclothed, lust filled and malevolent.

.

BEFORE the second battle of the powers was lost and won, darkness fell over the Northlands and there was much chaos for the clashing of the powers caused the lands to shift and the waves of the deep waters rose and fell in a rage never before seen in all of Æryx Now shortly after Ferworg was born, there was great misfortune in the house of Edrea for it was plagued with death. Many days after the birth of her son Atalera was sick and weakly. Her voice faded and her skin became pale. Ere the year ended, Atalera daughter of Fen, granddaughter of Edrea died. For many days the house of Edrea grieved the passing of the princess and Golwader was inconsolable.

The child Ferworg grew swiftly and was soon on the cusp of manhood. When Edrea had reined five and eighty years, he died. His was the longest rein in Lendoria’s history. And so, as was the custom of Lendoria, Ferworg became King of Lendoria.  Thus Dorlak’s plan was fulfilled. On the second year of Ferworg’s rein, the battle of the powers was come to an end. The darkness was subdued and peace came to Æryx .

Now the Councils remained ever vigilant in those days. Berina of Enola perceived that there was a cunning veil over the land of Lendoria and she descended swiftly thither. She was the last of the Councils to take physical form for she cared little for the mortals. Berina found with time that Lendoria had been defiled for though the land prospered, there was great malice and villainy in the hearts of the people. And she knew not whence this evil had come.

For many years Berina dwelt among the people of Lendoria and watched. The evil that had gripped Lendoria grew and the cunning behind it bewildered Berina of Enola. And darkness began to fill her heart for she became envious. ‘I am a great and powerful being.’ She thought to herself. ‘Why then shouldn’t I also wield such power over these creatures of mortality?’ It was unknown to her that her descent into Lendoria had been perceived by Ferwog and that his instruments of weaving malice had been directed at her, for though she was mighty among the councils, she was unable to penetrate the malice of Ferwog. After all Ferwog was Dorlak, greatest of the powers to come forth from the Darkness. Thus Berina of Enola was turned away from her brethren. But Ferwog was too bold and prideful in his victory over Berina and so when her corruption was nigh complete, he revealed himself to her. In that hour Berina’s wrath and dispair was so great that the ground beneath her trembled and she hid herself from Ferwog