I don’t know how long I stumbled through the accursed forest. Minutes felt like hours. Hours felt like days. Always I felt eyes on me. On occasion a group of zombies, or a pack of ghouls would burst from the bushes and attack. They were no match for me or Symphony.
I only knew I was someplace different when I realized the forest around me was alive. I mean that in the most visceral way. I had journey through a forest of purple grey death, into an area that was vibrant, the stench of death and decay a not so distant memory. Birds sang in the trees, squirrels bounced from branch to branch. I feared I must’ve either been killed, or had gone insane.
“No child,” a voice called out, “At least, not yet.”
Despite the reassurance of that voice, I was not completely convinced of my own sanity. One could hardly blame me. Then the forest itself, or at least this idyllic glade, began to laugh. It was only then I realized I was standing in front of the largest tree I’d ever seen. Even the word large does it no justice. It was enormous, majestic even. If trees ever had a monarchy, this would be the epitome of a king. The fact that it was chuckling at me, was less worrisome to me then the sheer size of it.
It’s bark was once the purest white. In fact, most of the tree pulsed with that divine glow. I say most, because patches of the purple grey marred the perfect surface. Veins of darkness shot up from the roots, to spread across the trunk, and up into the the branches above where leaves of silver and white, competed with leaves of purple on branches that had not yet succumbed to the Corruption. The branches that did, were bare, looking more like jagged claws than branches. As I watched, a face, looking like a cross between a very old dwarf, and a very old human appeared on the trunk surface before me.
“Do not fret child,” the being before spoke quietly. I heard simultaneously with my ears and in my mind. “I am merely doing part in slowing the Corruption.”
It was then I knew, or rather suspected I was in the presence of a Titan. Most scholars know that Titans are the apex of the divine hierarchy. Those same scholars would know that most Titans were dragons, or at least dragon shaped since they were all children of Kor’Tunni the goddess of magic, and dragons. It was likely that only the most learned of scholars knew that some Titans took other forms. I imagine that there is only a handful of those scholars that knew that Titans still roamed the world, exempt as they are from the Divine Accord, that forbids the gods to manifest on the world in their full power. My suspicion, caused my hackles to rise.
The being in front of me laughed again. “You are in no danger from me, Maureece,” the tree chuckled, “Any more than I am from you.”
I introduced myself, then blushed when I realized it already spoke my name. Perhaps music should not be my only calling, as the tree shook with mirth. It introduced itself as “the Elder”. Of course my heart raced in anticipation of a story.
The Elder claimed to have been on Tanaraq before the dragons came into being. When I questioned how that could be, citing that all dragons came from the Goddess of dragons, the Elder smiled. He told me I was correct, but the Mother of Dragons, was not the mother of Titans. There were more Titans in those days. His father was the Titan of Knowledge, and his mother was Norae, a Titan of Nature. I asked if his father was Raekisanth, and the Elder acknowledged it was so. I knew of no Titans of Nature, and even the current Goddess of Nature had ascended to that role. The Elder simply stated the Titans of Nature were no more, killed in wars between the Primordial Elementals and the Titans for primacy of the world. When the wars finally ended, The Titans that remained were the children of Kor’Tunni. The Elder wanted no part of the Divine Court, although it had claim by blood, and chose to remain in the world. It rooted itself to connect with the world itself, and everything in it. While it did not interfere with the world of mortals or divine much, on occasion the Elder nudged civilization one way, or another, particularly when the balance of nature was threatened.
This revelation raised an eyebrow.
I asked about the Corruption, and the Elder told me that a great sacrifice was made in order to halt the spread of the deadly energies. He, along with the Wyldefires and Oakenshields, as well as the noble heroes who ventured forth to stop it, were part of that sacrifice. They had been able to seal off the Forest of Souls from the outside world, by removing sealing it off from time itself. However the river of time is inexorable, and eventually began to break through the barriers that were set up. Unfortunately the magic used to do so, specifically being cut off from time had unintended effects on mortals whose very existence is a tick on the proverbial clock.
The Elder explained that the Oakenshields in particular went mad from being cut off from the world, especially their gods. He tried to bridge the gap between them and the divine, but it was not enough as I had to focus on maintaining the barrier. When the barrier finally weakened the first Power to answer their pleas for aid was Karaanx, the Demon King of Undeath. He tricked the druids, and they became blightlords. Now they seek to preserve the state of undeath in the Forest, even as they seek ways to spread their “gifts” to the world. It was they that perverted and recruited the Wyldefires to their cause, as well as Darkhope once a unicorn guardian of the forest.
We had spoken so long that I don’t know when I fell asleep. When I woke again, the Elder’s face was gone, and attempts at calling him were ignored. Perhaps even Titans to rest. A song though played in my head. At first I thought it was one of the myriad pieces I often work on. This one however was different. It was prophetic. I had no doubt the Elder had spoken, or sung it to me in my sleep, so familiar it felt. Familiar and strange.
“Seek them out
Those relics four
For those alone
Will close Death’s door
Norae’s Embrace
Must be made with care
From hallowed ground
And also there
Purity’s Mirror
Will slip your grasp
Only nature’s caress
Is up to the task
Moon’s Crescent
Once blessed now damned
Is in a circle of blight
Its blades unmanned
Time’s Heart
The hardest my friend
For life to renew
Life has to end“
As I left the glade, I knew I had to spread the song. I was now part of history. My part to play in ending the Corruption for good had begun. I don’t know how large or small that role is, or why the Elder chose me. Admittedly, I tend to rub noses with the vile and corrupt. Perhaps a little darkness is needed for this problem. Ah well, adventure awaits.
“Music is immortal, and my gift to myself and those I write about”
Chord, the Ivory Bard
A Darkness Rising 