Return of the sword

CHAPTER ONE

The water tumbled through the dark night sky, the sparkling stars
raining down pure silver, striking his blood stained face as he
charged
thoughtfully down through the enclosing alleyways, his heart
pumping
faster, faster. He stopped suddenly his chest throbbing in pain,
his
mind an array of thoughts, where could he go, who could he trust.
He
stared around panic rushing through him; the memories of the
night
tainted his mind, tainted his soul. Blood gushed from his wounds
a
river running off his face, his time was running ever shorter, only
one
thing could save the magic, only one thing could change what had
happened, he knew what he must do as he ran off into the tumbling
rain.

Slowly he came to a stop the blood drenched his clothes, stained in
deep
red blood dripping onto the cold earth as he stood within the
Emerald
Park, a pillar rose before him. He stared at its glowing light
that
emitted radiating silver the magic rising within his soul a
connection
between heart, mind and body. It rose from within the magic of
the
ages, white light launched spears from his fingers striking the
tall
pillar. The Pillar shone brighter, lancing silver light over the
land,
"Magic of the ages, emit your purity, Esteron arise," He coughed
blood
while spoke "Cast the spear of light" As from within his robes he
brought a sword, and in one sharp push he placed the sword in the
pillar. He felt the earth tremor beneath him slightly as the
pillar
erupted bright spears of magic across the land, and slowly he
collapsed
on the cold wet grass.

Across the distant plains the armies had met, battle cries
sounded
across the savannah, metal clashed sharp raw sound. The floor was
red
stained with the blood of the races alike, arrows rained down on
them,
cries of pain echoed out across the plain as people died all
around
fighting to save the men, women, and children of the races the
goodness
in life. The armies of the spirits were gaining land thriving on
the
souls of men. Suddenly silence shrouded the land as white light
flowed
over the land passing through the armies of spirits pushing them
back
into the barrier of the Esteron' s magic. Slowly the men of the
spirits
returned their lives restored.

The man lay there he was gone, he could feel it, the blood was
still
flowing from his body, but he was weak. His strength was leaving him
as
he stared up at the night sky, he had saved the races, but not
himself,
at least soon he would see his foregone one. Suddenly in the sky
a
white being hung motionless staring at him.

"What are you? Leave I am gone, take the sword to the kings for I am
no
more, I am gone." He choked on his words, pain leaving him, he
was
dead, he was gone.

"Enron Dwinon, I am past, present, future, I am the soul of magic, I
am
the crafter of the sword." Spoke a girls voice, as the white angel
like
figure hung before him, "You have won Enron, we have won the
magic
lives on, life lives on, you live on, for you will not die this
night,
you must aid the most powerful magic since the Equidorians
coming"

"What, I'm Dead, leave" He spoke his strength gone, he lay back on
the
damp grass closing his heavy eyes, the pain began to ease slowly as
he
lay drawing his last long breath "Goodbye...."

The man stood there, his eyes snapped open lost in the deep thought
of
the images that had just flooded past him, the memory he thought
so
distant buried in his distant past was for ever his, as clear as
the
day it had occurred. He stood there pondering this thought
standing
upon the soft shore of the Myris Lake, as the sun glimmered off
the
surface low in the sky. Light was fading as it flowed over the lake
a
river of light running from the distant horizon. The waters
rippled
slight in the wind as it breathed another breath. Through the sky
shifted the light, white, fluffy, clouds of spring birth. He had
been
there for days thinking, thinking of times past, thinking of
times
present, thinking of times that may come or may not, thinking. He
knew
for he had seen it. He had seen the many past generations through
his
eyes. Yet he was that of a thirty year old un-aged since his
beginning.
He remembered the destruction of his friends at the fall of the
Equinox, He remembered the arts of the Equidorian magic, He
remembered
the losing of the four great magic's, along with the greatest of
all.
Yet he smiled in spite of himself for the future would reveal his
secrets of his past, he would restore the magic's, he would aid
the
stones, the sword, he would destroy the spirits, He would see his
love
once again. Or he would die. Either way time would tell.

"Kall you will not win, I will not let you, not again." He whispered
in
to the cold bitter wind that whipped by striking his face.

His last thought was one of Why? Why did he live on while the rest
of
his friends of the Equinox perish why? Take her why not me? He
turned
away staring through his hawk eyes into the distant and his home
amongst the mountains. Soon he thought Soon. He turned back to face
the
shimmering lake, I am still Dwin I am the remaining, But I will
never
be the last. "I am coming wielders of the Sword, I am coming"

He walked through the night passing over the Magi River as if it
were
not there. He continued on passing the small hamlet of three
point,
through the days, through the nights, dawn till dusk, dusk till
dawn.
He continued on the equidor masked his presence, his soul, his body
as
he sustained a thorough pace at which he continued on walking,
walking,
walking. He traced the Leron Road by which to navigate from, he
headed
toward the Emerald jewel, of the elfin people, the city of Dewen.
Less
than a week had passed since he had left for the city and already
the
energy of the Esteron was waving losing its grasp more and more
over
the spirits, as more and more escaped, the armies were building.
Dwin
could feel it in the air and on the land the magic of the Esteron
was
failing.

The night was cool a slight breeze all that disturbed the silence of
the
night, night. A flowing sea of darkness across the sky,
stretching
forth from upon the horizon, a torrent, dark, black, cold. As
through
the sky a silent silver disc shimmered brightly upon the
ever-rippling
waters of the vast open sea. Through the dark night shift
phantoms,
ghosts, grey as stone sliding smoothly across the darkness's void.
The
river of night crept slowly up the rock falls cliffs and crags, up
over
the cliffs toward the villages, rivers, forests, and towns that
spread
across the distant lands. The man walked quickly through the deep
dark
forest shadows that launched over him engulfing him in their
tight
grasp. He walked quicker now as the darkness flowed further
settling
upon the forest of which he sought to leave, faster it came now
settling fully upon the forest as he reached the end, the exit of
the
forests leaping surrounding shadows. He walked through the fresh
night
across the vast fields and land reaching the city by first light.

The sun shone down radiant and pure across the rolling green hills
and
meadows, across the small winding streams and rivers, along the
tracks
and through every window of every village, town, and city of the
land,
and finally reaching the distant sea. The spring air was cool upon
his
face as he stood upon the highest of high hills surrounding the
quiet
city below, all around birds sang their morning song, and cattle
grazed
the emerald green hillside. The man sat his body showed no signs of
his
ever growing age, yet his eyes still burned brightly full of a
burning
fire of life, he sat there his dark cloak pulled tightly about
his
towering figure, he sat watching the spring colours of life and
the
city's awakening. As through the distance the sea rippled, waves
crashing into the towering cliffs, and smooth white shore of the
wide
open bay, the waters were tranquil blue a deep calming sea of blue
that
was pure unlike many things in this life. The sea had been smashing
the
resilient coast since the dawn of time itself, and would continue
till
the end of time.

Dwin entered the city unnoticed by both guards and Elves alike;
he
proceeded towards his destination the palace of the elves, and
his
loyal friend queen Lyra of the Elfin people. As he walked the
streets
people looked at him and dismissed him just as easily as he walked,
now
and again someone approached him, but left on his command, all
around
he saw merchants, tradesmen, and conmen alike, all trying to gain
a
profit. Not knowing what fate might befall them. The Palace was
white,
surrounded by colours of greens, blues, reds, yellows all the
colours
you could dream of. He approached the sentry of the elite
command.

"Speak stranger, or leave." Spoke the commander, a short bulky
elf
strong voiced, and spirited.

"Calm yourself my friend, it is I, Foren" spoke Dwin softly.

"Dwin, my friend you have returned," replied Foren a smile crossing
his
face. "Come, I shall inform the queen of your arrival"

"Thank you." They progressed through the palace gardens toward
the
palace a manner of peace surrounded him, calming his soul, calming
his
body. As they walked through the palace's twisting corridors,
decorated
with some of the most exquisite artwork within the lands, capturing
the
imagination of many, Foren told him of many events, times, and
comings
or goings as they sat within the Elfin council chambers. The room
was
long and narrow containing a long table that stretched the length
of
the room near wall to wall. Surrounded by twenty high black, back
chairs, the table seated the delegates of the Elfin settlements a
women
and a man per settlement. The room had six towering windows on
either
side that were coloured with many encryptions, all ancient elfish
and
have been yet to be deciphered. Dwin continued peering round the
room
as the arched oak doors were opened, and a woman dressed in blue
entered.

"Foren, you may leave." Ordered the woman softly "Thank you" Foren
left
closing the doors as he left

"What is it Dwin? I hear you have news of greatest Importance,"
asked
the woman anxiously.

Dwin looked at her into her dark deep blue eyes, she was a young
woman
she was an elf with long dark black hair silk as that of the
night
flowing down her back touching the base of her spine.

"It comes again, the Esteron wavers, it's energy is failing, for
the
spirits are coming, there armies are massing, armies of goblins,
trolls, and even the black dragons, we must find the sword for it
is
all that may stop the onslaught and destroy the spirits once and
for
all." Explained Dwin urgently.

"You remember the stories, Many Generations ago a sword of
magical
properties was cast into a distant land of magic, bound to the
elements
from which it was forged. Cast from the depths of the Esteron it
came,
a light in darkness against the evil subverted magic." He paused
studying her face for a look of recognition, "This sword was
entrusted
into the Four Elders, The Four Friends of the races. Erallon of
the
elves, Danar of the dwarfs, Trogon of the trolls and Navrin of the
race
of man. This Sword was used by these friends in the first war of
the
Spirits, in which the subverted magic broke free of the Esteron
combined itself with the spirit of men, forming the shadows of
darkness
that threatened the land. Proceeding this they formed a promise,
a
promise of truth a promise to call only upon the sword in the face
of
the horrors of war, darkness and pain.

They placed the sword in a vault, a tomb to protect the sword from
all
who wish to use it in hatred. To protect it each of the friends
crafted
a stone of power to control an element, a key to release the sword,
all
of these stones were required to erect the vault, the dark tomb
in
which the sword was set. Over the generations that followed, a
treasured history became forgotten an ancient forgotten myth, a
legend;
the races finally lost belief, and lost the stones. They lost
their
only defence against the shadows, against the spirits. The time
is
finally coming, four stones are needed."

"And you are sure of this?" asked the queen dreadfully "you are
not
mistaken?"

"No, I feel it in the air, and on the land time is running low, we
must
it is the only hope" answered Dwin despondently "we must find the
half
elf's, both are needed."

"Who are they?" asked the queen a look of hope still in her eyes
"Where
are they?"

"One is resides in Elin and is known as Nirvan, the other resides
in
Gallony and is known as Kera. They control both stones and swords,
I
will meet Nirvan, and Kera." Finished Dwin

"Ok I will send Jeniva to find Nirvan and bring him here we will go
from
there. Agreed?" asked the queen, "I will also send word to the
rulers
of the other lands and of the situation."

"Agreed" whispered Dwin before leaving the city walls, thinking of
the
elves as he left the palace walls. The Elves are fair beings and I
wish
I could help, aid them further, but all I have is as I have told
them,
the elves are the fairest of beings and the most trust worthy of
beings
they have lived many ages and are the wisest the most eternal folk
in
the lands. Slowly he slid out of the city cloaked in his magic.

***

Bright glowing orange light was sweeping out over the vast green
sea,
creating the dancing forest shadows, that were constantly
launching,
looming over the figure as he strolled quickly and quietly along
the
darkening, cold damp forest walk, his thin razor sharp throwing
knifes
strapped tightly, securely in his leather belt, he walked on
quicker
trying to beat the suns death, the coming of night. What little
light
remained still made his Elfin features defined and visible. He
was
quite tall, but his structure was still small. Light weight and
agile.
His small pointed ears protruded out from under his dark brown
hair,
along with his dark brown eagle eyes noticing every visible
movement
even in the darkening light settling around him. He was Nirvan.
He
stopped suddenly; a disturbance in the shadows caught his eye
drawing
his attention in an instance he had whipped out his throwing
knifes,
ready, for what may come next. The gleaming knifes gleamed
silver,
Smoothing was stirring, a presence he sensed, as suddenly it struck
him
a low dark voice echoed striking his ear.

"FIND THE STONES, THE KEYS"

Nirvan stumbled, his head in his hands as images flew by past,
present,
future all tied into the images that passed before him. He fell to
the
ground as the images stopped as suddenly as they had came, he
gasped
for breath wheezing heavily. As a remote sound echoed along the
forest
walk toward his ear, closer, closer. He whirled around just in time,
as
a gallant white Unicorn sprung out of nowhere, bearing a cloaked
rider.
The white Unicorns rider slowly slid off the horse un-mounting
from
upon her white steed.

"Who are you?" Requested Nirvan as the rider stood before him. He
gripped his knife more tightly. "What do you want? Show
yourself."

"Shhh, Calm yourself I am no enemy, I am a friend." Spoke the
cloaked
rider in no more than a whisper upon the cool wind, it was a calm
soothing voice, the voice of a young women.

She slowly walked up to him, her crystal blue cloak billowing in
the
cool wind, yet still wrapped closely about her. She stood before
him
slowly removing, lowering the hood of her long cloak. She was
slightly
shorter than Nirvan and had the same pencil eyebrows and small
pointed
ears. She had long dark brown hair near black in colour, a small
nose
poking out, and deep blue eyes as crystal as that of her cloak of
which
he wore.

"I am in search of the Elfin settlement of Elin, please do you know
of
it?" she asked softly

"Yes I know of it, come I will lead you there, but who are you?
Where
are you from?" asked Nirvan curiously his knifes tucked securely
back
within his belt.

"Sorry, My name is Jeniva and I am bringing a message to one who
lives
in Elin, and am travelling south from the settlement of Dewen."
Spoke
Jeniva.

"Bloody hell, Dewens at least a weeks gallop without break, and at
full
gallop." Replied Nirvan "Anyway my name is Nirvan from Elin."

"Your Nirvan? Then you will know for whom I search for? For he
replies
to a very familiar name...." Jeniva stopped suddenly as a low
rumbling
in the distance struck their ears, they peered silently into the
direction it came, the rumbling became louder, louder, closer,
closer.
It was coming.

"Quick Now get on, come on, they are coming, they are coming for
you!!!"
Cried Jeniva.

Without question they mounted the gleaming white Unicorn. They set
off
south at full gallop toward the emerald rolling hill of scrubland
that
surround the settlement of Elin

The wind was thrashing at their faces; pale, white, colourless
were
their faces. They came at them as she had said closer, closer,
closer
they came. Five horses pearl white skeletons, their blood red
eyes
shining brightly out from their cream skeletal structures. Each of
the
horses bore a tightly cloaked rider dark, which carried a glowing
red
broadswords. They came at the unicorn attempting to strike either it
or
the riders. Jeniva was too quick for them veering the horse hard to
the
right, whilst pushing a necklace to Nirvan. Nirvan grabbed the
necklace
but lost himself falling to the hard earth, the necklace still
tightly
in his grip, in the palm of his hand. As he hit the ground warmth
surged through his arm, refreshing warmth, warming his body from
head
through to toe. The riders gathered round him blades ready to cut
through him. They took a step closer as Nirvan opened his hand as
the
stone shone a green light glowing, emitting its rays, suddenly
Nirvan's
strength left him travelling up his right arm and into the stone.
The
stone glowed more, and more, and more before flooding the riders in
the
light engulfing them, in the moment it had happened the light
vanished,
where the riders once stood green dust lay. The last of Nirvan's
strength left him as he collapsed on the cool hard earth. An hour
of
time passed before Nirvan awoke upon the back of Jeniva's Unicorn,
upon
the outskirts of Elin, it was nightfall for the stars were shining
down
silver from the sky specs on a dark velvet sheet, skirting out
the
stars danced behind the sliding clouds of grey, ghosts in the
nights
sky.

"Jeniva What happened, what was that. The stones, the riders???"
asked
Nirvan quickly in total puzzlement.

"Calm down, the answers are coming Nirvan, the answers are coming."
Said
Jeniva speaking softly.

They slowly trotted down to an old large ancient building, an inn,
Known
as the Black Heart. They Un-mounted and strode through the
crumbling
oak door, the entrance. Once through they found themselves in a
room
full of tables and chairs. They wound their way through the tables to
a
table in the far corner. They sat for a while in silence sipping
a
there ales before Jeniva broke the silence.

"I owe you an explanation, I am on a quest charged to me by the
queen,
Lyra Elier to search out an elf, the one, I search out an elf
named
Nirvan.

"Me but I'm nothing, I'm...." Nirvan stopped studying the reaction
upon
Jeniva's face, searching for a reaction.

"You are the one, an heir, who can place a hand upon the stones
and
summon the lost sword of immense magical properties." She said in
know
more than a whisper upon the moist air "You must travel north to
the
city of Dewen tonight, someone, will meet you at the Rinder, Please
you
must go! Otherwise..." Jeniva paused a look of absolute fright
covering
his face, what little colour remained left.

Nirvan broke into an array of questions "Otherwise what? Who?
Why?"
asked Nirvan quickly without pause for breath.

"Good luck Nirvan, Good luck, Take this necklace, and watch yourself
for
more of the riders will be sent" she said placing the talisman
within
his hand. Her hand was warm, soft upon his hand. "Good bye" she
finished staring at Nirvan rising, shifting through the entrance of
the
pub disappearing into night's grasp, night's tightening grasp.
Nirvan
sat there speechless glaring at the crumbling oak door bearing a
half
drained goblet of wine at his side. An hour passed, two hours
passed,
three hours passed until he rose and left still mulling over the
possibilities.

Slowly he left heading down the dusty, mud track toward his home.
His
mind still buzzing with a thousand thoughts at once, whilst he
continued on his way to his home he came to a definite, life
changing
decision. He would go. He would travel north to the city of Dewen
that
very night, if only for some answers to his very questions.
Nirvan
finally came to the end of the trail; the darkness cold against
his
skin, as he breathed a warm mist left his mouth dissipating into
the
night.

Nirvan's home was a fairly small cottage, white in colour. Upon
the
cottage sat a roof of golden beauty, thatched exquisitely, using
some
of the finest materials in the land. The reflective smooth surface
of
the large pine door glowed silvery blue by the mystical,
tranquil,
peaceful moonlight. Nirvan slowly paced up toward this door, facing
it
he stood staring at it, its soft surface, it's mirror like
surface.
Nirvan slowly pulled from within the shade of his cloak a long
dull
bronze key, which inserted perfectly into the gleaming bronze lock.
As
it turned an almost unapparent click sounded permitting entrance,
He
slowly turned the sleek, lustrous bronze doorknob clicking once more
it
gave way, creaking in pain slowly the door opened to reveal it's
hidden
secrets.

Nirvan strode in closing the door as he entered. Nirvan peered
around
the large room in which he stood; the roof was low as were most in
the
village. He continued to peer through the orange light radiating
from
the lamps, his eyes drawn toward the colossal marble fireplace
embedded, crafted into the right-hand wall, a long mantle piece
stretched across the wall above it, cast of the oak of Elin wood.
In
front of the fireplace stood a shining oak lined glass table,
around
which sat large green chairs, towering over it, hiding it, confining
it
to where it stood. Against the dampened left wall, tucked up out of
the
way set aside, rejected, stood a lonely, forgotten dining table.
It's
carefully crafted, carved chairs lost under a mountain of old
torn,
tatty blankets. Nirvan shifted towards this mountain, reaching
toward
its depths a long gleaming broadsword, which he slide into its
carefully crafted scabbard, and placed it upon his dark leather
belt.
Nirvan paused listening to the Owls shriek and the crickets cry.
Slowly
he turned pacing in the direction of another door. Slamming it shut
he
walked into a long narrow room which housed the kitchen, he stopped
at
a cupboard grabbing a selection of supplies of fruit, bread and
cooking
implements, before continuing up the dark winding staircase, a snake
of
the night. He froze suddenly, at the top of the stairs an object
caught
his eye, a ring, a ring engraved with the ancient dragon symbol.
It
came from a time of distant past, a time where both the dragons
and
races were one. It was entrusted into the hands of his father long
ago.
The ring sparkled like a distant star radiant and pure still
unmarked
through times of war, times of pain, it remained immaculate. He
reached
out, placing it upon his hand staring into its mysterious depths as
if
reading it's long dead past. Hesitating he gradually lifted from
upon
his palm, and placed it on his finger, promptly a blue glow
emitted
from the ring. Anxiously Nirvan starred closer at it as the glow
built
up stronger as the glow became not only a glow, but a light
unfolded
through the low light that wrapped about him. Anticipation
flooded
through him as he watched, closer, closer, as the beams became
stronger, stronger. But as the light became more intense the rays
began
combining forming a narrower, and narrower beam of light. Nirvan
stumbled back, falling to the cold floor as the ray shone at him,
at
his heart, entering his body. Nirvan closed his eyes, not willing
to
stare at the ring as he felt the energy flow through him, the
magic
trickling, streaming through his veins. He felt it stronger now,
not
only a stream, but a river. He had absorbed it. He had absorbed
the
dormant magic of the ring; slowly Nirvan raised himself from upon
the
hard, damp, distant floor. His body ached, though not weak, the
energy
continued to flow through him. He shacked himself off trying to
forget
the force that now flowed through his body. Nirvan starred at the
ring
a moment longer before progressing on to his chamber.

Proceeding on into the towering room he grabbed a large leather
bound
travelling bag from behind his door, placing within it's depths a
collection of both clothes and blankets, A worn tatty map, and
some
simple hunting gear. Nirvan sat upon his bed staring out into the
engulfing night that shrouded the land, the light of the moon was
silvery blue upon his face, as slowly water trickled from upon his
face
refreshing water that cooled him. He sat there for a moment
thinking,
thinking, he had dreamed of this day, a day when he would finally
venture from the Elfin lands into the lands of the other races, and
yes
he was ready as he had been for years, but not for an importance
of
this magnitude. Slowly he rose from his bed taking one final look
at
his chamber he left, to start his journey north, the journey that
would
change his life for ever, both for better, and for worst. Nirvan
hiked
from the village, through the reassuring streets into the rolling
hill
of open land that surrounded the village, the Emerald country it
was
known as, he now knew why. The light reflected off the dew that
settled
upon the plant life that surrounded his feet. He walked on for the
rest
of the night trying to gain as much distance as possible between
himself and Elin. By twilight he had reached the woods of Elin,
he
walked on as dawn approached and left, and was well through the
woods
by late morning. As the sun rose to its peak, Heat pounded down
him,
pouring over him, slowing him, Nirvan rested then feeding on
fresh
fruits and vegetables. The sky was ocean blue as he continued
through
the afternoon, clouds wisped in white and fluffy from the east
settling
too a snails pace through the sky. Nirvan whistled tunes as he
walked
on through the day, leaving the wood heading over the open
countryside,
north towards the dark southern Leron forest. The countryside was
blooming with magnificent colours of spring; he walked on happily
along
the country trails and footpaths. As night approached Nirvan
rested
under a towering, lonely oak tree, sleeping without wake until
morning
sounds awoke him. Nirvan awoke to a slow trickle of rain tumbling
from
the laden sky, as Nirvan sat beneath the towering oak the trickle
increased to a downpour, a torrent of water plummeting down on him
as
he sat peacefully, Patiently beneath the groaning oak as the
downpour
slowed, slower, slower to a stop. Nirvan packed away and continued
on,
by early next morning he had reached it. He had reached the
southern
Leron forest. But as he sat smiling at his achievement, a sound
of
hooves struck his ear, coming closer, closer, closer.