[IC] Tirannwn

[Arweinydd]

A long crystal arrow whistled as it sliced through the heavy forest air before slapping into a rounded hay-bale target sitting on the edge of an elven courtyard, giving off a muffled thud of exhaustion. As it hit, its shaft began to glow with a dull smouldering cyan before igniting into vibrant green aurora as the crystal arrow shattered into tiny shards, evaporating into a cloud of silver mist. A succession of arrows closely followed the first; each strike piercing the centre of the straw target and detonating into clouds of silver, their misty trails drifting away in the light breeze. At the opposite end of the courtyard stood two elves, one clearly of age with long frosted hair which drooped down each shoulder and the other of a shorter and younger stature.

“Excellent. As accurate as ever Lord Arweinydd.” The elderly elf whispered in a laboured tone.

“You humble me Master Saethydd.” The young elf lord responded.

The elderly elf nodded gracefully and stood back, allowing Arweinydd to raise the great crystalline bow he wielded in his left hand up to take aim at the straw target once more. As he pulled on the thin silk bow string, his muscles tightened under the strain and his pose stiffened in anticipation of the shot. A small crystal fragment broke from the shaft of the bow, hovering by the elf’s grip before elongating with the string’s draw forming into the familiar shape of an arrow. Once fully taught, the arrow head sat within the groove of Arweinydd’s forefingers, it’s fletching lightly gripped by his right hand, and its nock cradling the thin string. Its shaft began to smoulder once again with a dull cyan glow as elven magic ran the length of its shaft, maintaining its shape and design.

“Good.” Saethydd remarked, pleased with Arweinydd’s carefully rehearsed stance.

Arweinydd drew a long deep breath steadying his aim and tightening his grip. He snatched his fingers from the bow string releasing the arrow from the bow. The crystal shard sliced through the air, darting towards the distant edge of the courtyard before piercing the straw target and evaporating into a shining silver mist. Each shot had struck the centre of the rounded hay bale, depressing its centre like a finger poke in fresh dough.

“I fear there is no more I can teach you Lord Arweinydd. Your aim is true and consistency seldom falters.” Saethydd remarked once more.

“An honour to be praised by the master archer himself” Arweinydd bowed in gratitude of the compliments.
Saethydd gazed up into the sky through the narrow clearing the canopy above. “The sun begins to dip. Our session is over and you must prepare for the summer solstice celebrations.”

“We shall meet at the keep Master Saethydd” Arweinydd replied.

The two elves bowed resting their two forefingers breast, a sign of respect and honour within elven society, before Arweinydd hurried off through an archway dividing the courtyard from the keep beyond.

[Cadernia]

It was early morning, and a cool but gentle breeze blew through the pale skies above the forests of Isafdar. There was an electric excitement in the air as hundreds of elves gathered on the ground below, their crystal torches guiding them through the thick woodlands that were so efficient at keeping outsiders at bay. Indeed, Tirannwn owed much to the resilient trees that sentinelled the Elven kingdom.

The elves were an active race, thriving on the great outdoors and enjoying every moment of their seemingly endless lives, and so it was not uncommon for so many of their kind to be awake at these hours of the morn. However, this particular morning marked the Summer solstice, and the beginning of the harvest was an event that the elves had considered sacred since the dawn of their race - thus, the elves were out en masse to thank Seren for her yearly gifts. What's more, this solstice was made particularly special due to the fact that a handful of the Enethig would be celebrating Benywdod, an ancient ritual that pronounced them as women. Due to the incredibly long lives of elves, these rituals were few and far between, and so the entire community was eager to welcome the next generation into maturity.

Cadernia Iorwerth was one such Enethig. The Iorwerths were a noble family, well-respected by the Elven royal bloodline. Cadernia was the first daughter born to the clan in hundreds of years, and so her passing of Benywdod was a particularly rewarding occasion. She, along with a couple of other girls from different clans, stood in the centre of the Pilerihud. They were dressed in long, white gowns - clothing reserved for sacred or royal occasions - and wore the white flowers of Lletya in their hair. Cadernia's dark black locks framed the floral accessory beautifully, and her eyes sparkled in the developing light.

The three girls faced East, looking out through a magically arranged clearing in the thick forest, and Cadernia was glad that the majority of the spectators were situated behind them and out of sight. As she held hands with the girls either side of her, she could sense their nervousness at the select group of elves who were within their eyeline. Just off to their left stood the royal family of Tirannwn: King Llawrain, Queen Aeronwen and their son, Lord Arweinydd. As the King addressed his people before a glorious sunrise, Cadernia received a smile from the youngest royal. She blushed and smiled back. She and Arweinydd had known each other for as long as she'd lived, and they were very close. In fact, she completely lost track of what the King was saying - lost in the Elf Lord's eyes - until he began to read the rites, catching her attention and causing her to break eye contact with her friend as she focussed once more upon the rising sun.

"O' kind and radiant Seren, mother of these precious lands, we thank you for your continuous generosity and sympathy for our people. We thank you for the bountiful crops, we thank you for the fair weather, and we thank you for the peace that makes its home in Tirannwn. And, on this most joyous day of Benywdod,, we thank you for guiding our Enethig through the difficult journey into womanhood." The King turned to face the girls, announcing them one by one. "From the clan of Craffach; Alwen, who enters Benywdod with her skilled craftsmanship." The crowds cheered. Cadernia was not familiar with Alwen, but she had heard much of her talents with a needle and thread.

"From the clan of Moddion; Rhoswen, who enters Benywdod with her gifts of healing." the crowds cheered once more, and with more fervour than they had for Alwen. Rhoswen's talents were considered a gift from Seren herself; able to heal wounds and ailments using only her mind. Cadernia knew Rhoswen quite well, as their families both belonged to the royal's inner circle. Though, admittedly, no clan could compete with the Iorwerths when it came to royal repute. This was a well known fact that was soon to be exemplified.

"And finally, from the clan of Iorwerth; Cadernia, who enters Benywdod with her magical prowess". The crowds went wild, the endless sea of elves cheering and clapping as Cadernia bowed in royal tradition. It was true; she was an excellent mage and seer with a particular affinity for nature - talents that were, again, attributed to Seren by most. This was a fact of life that left Cadernia feeling less than satisfied. She knew more than anyone else how hard she had trained her skills in her search for power, from sunrise to sunset, day after day she poured through tomes in the ancient library or practiced her skills in the warm sun. There had been no divine intervention that Cadernia was aware of; her power was earned through a lifetime of dedication and perseverance. As much as she disagreed with the elven goddess taking credit, she would never oppose the elven views that so many she loved held so dearly. And so, she smiled gracefully and accepted the situation begrudgingly.

After the Sun had risen and the ceremony was over, Cadernia stepped down from the plinth and made her way over to her family. Her father was chatting to the King by one of many long tables piled with fine elven delicacies, the wives and offspring standing by in dutiful silence. Conversation turned to her as she approached.

"Ah, Cadernia. A pleasure to see you again." the King smiled welcomingly. He was a well-respected ruler, known for his fairness and good relations with the people. Cadernia smiled and thanked him, returning the sentiment. "Splendid Benywdod, wasn't it? We're grateful to have a mage such as you amongst us. I'm sure your father is very proud, right, Merddin?" he asked rhetorically.

"Of course, Your Highness. We are blessed to have a daughter such as her, Seren must look down upon us kindly." replied Merddin Iorwerth, to which Cadernia had to resist rolling her eyes. In the process, she met Arweinydd's gaze once more and smiled implicitly. He got the message.

"I'm sure you two have business to discuss," he said pleasantly to their fathers, before addressing Merddin directly. "May I?" he asked, referring to Cadernia. Iorwerth nodded affirmatively, pleased that his daughter held such strong relations with the nations future King, and Arweinydd swiftly lead Cadernia out into the forests by the hand.

[Arweinydd]

Arweinydd led Cadernia through a series of winding paths, weaving in and out of the tall thick trunked trees in the forest far from the summer solstice ceremony and away from the nearest Elven habitations. They arrived at a clearing on the far side of Isafdar. A blanket of lush green grass carpeted the floor before abruptly ending to give way to leagues and leagues of blue ocean. At the centre of the cliff-side clearing sat an unusually tall tree, its thick trunk easily doubling that of any other of the numerous trees dotted across the Elven province. At its base lay a large square cloth woven from fine Elven silk; the borders were embossed in silver ivy and its centre decorated with a large silver direwolf, sat and staring upwards to an un-seen night sky. On the far corner of the silk blanket, closest to the ocean view, sat a large wicker bowl. Inside the bowl lay a two large green leaves and on top balanced a tall thin pyramidal glass bottle capped with a small silver metallic pyramid, screwed tightly to seal the cyan liquid within. A set of carefully placed flatbread pieces were placed around the carefully crafted bottle like fern leaves spreading from the ground.

“Nectar and Ambrosia?” Cadernia queried, shocked at the sight of such a rare delicacy. “How did you get your hands on this?”

“A king has his ways.” Arweinydd replied with a mischievous grin.

“You’re not a king yet Arweinydd. Arrogance can be an unbecoming trait for a leader.” Cadernia snapped back, before bursting into laughter with Arweinydd.

Nectar was a fine Elven wine fermented from a rare cyan fruit found only within the forests of Isafdar giving rise to its characteristic cyan hue. The taste was sweet and velvety, a taste quickly acquired and longed for by any who are lucky enough to experience its flavour. Its medicinal properties were well known beyond the borders of the Elven province, able to reverse most ailments and ward off aging in the mortal folk beyond Tiranwwn’s mountain border. Ambrosia was said to be eaten by Seren herself. The flat bread was plain and boring to the sight, it’s only distinguishing feature being the simple ivy leaf imprinted on its surface – clearly stamped into place when the bread was still soft dough. The recipe was a closely kept secret known only by the most skilled culinary artisans in the Pobyddel clan. Its heavy dough was known to satisfy ones hunger for several days even from a few bites, a trait which had made Ambrosia a the staple diet for most high-born elves.

Arweinydd and Cadernia sat on the blanket, staring out into the ocean as the sun gradually crept high into the sky warming the grass and trees surrounding. Arweinydd plucked the bottle from the wicker bowl, carefully unscrewing the silver lid to expose the delicate bottle rim beneath. He grabbed two fine glass flutes lying behind the bowl and poured a generous amount in each before passing one carefully to his admiring guest. Each took a sip of the Elven wine, savouring the flavour as it ran down their throat.

“Few will experience such a wonderful taste within their lifetime” Arweinydd remarked. “Fewer still in the mortal world.”

Cadernia smiled as she enjoyed her drink, however Arweinydd failed to return the sentiment. Mortality had always troubled him. It seems an injustice that the Elves were granted immortality, and yet the other races beyond the Elven borders would experience but a fleeting moment of the eternal world which they had all inhabited. The ancient lore stated the Elves were blessed by Seren herself, given immortality in order to fulfil their roles as custodians of the realms and protectors of the forests and its inhabitants – a role quickly forgotten by the Elven kind as they withdrew from the outside realms and failed to maintain the vast forests and wildlife beyond the edges of Tiranwwn. Arweinydd shook the dark thoughts and doubt from his mind, choosing the focus on the occasion at hand.

“Benywdod is a once in a century event, and a worthy time for celebration.” Arweinydd said, breaking the short silence between the two young elves. “How do you feel to be a lady of Tiranwwn?”

“I feel no different from yesterday, or the day before. It’s been more of a distraction than a celebration.” Cadernia complained, slightly bitter at the unnecessary attention. “The time spent today could have been better used for study or practice.”

Arweinydd chuckled. “The stories are true of the Iowerth clan, always so serious and particular. One day you will be a great mage, intensely engaged with understanding deeper mysteries of this real and will miss the trivial moments like this.”

“Perhaps.” Cadernia said, brushing off the statement. “Where is this anyway?”

“The western shore. My father spoke of this place once, he said he discovered it as a child no younger than ourselves. It was where he met my mother before he took the throne.” Arweinydd replied. “I looked in the ancient royal library through old notes my father had written in his early years as King, and found directions to this tree.”

“It seems so out of place and lonely, even surrounded by its kin.” Cadernia replied.

“It’s unique. Take a closer look at its bark. Beneath its thick and ancient crust lies fine crystal like none I have ever seen.”

Cadernia stood up and brushed her hands down its rough and wrinkled bark. Arweinydd was right. Between the plates of timber bark an intricate network of crystal darted up and down the giant trees trunk, like hundreds of bolts of lightning striking the thick tree’s base from the storm-clouds of green leaves high above. Was the entire tree made of crystal? Though Cadernia as her fingers touched the cold crystalline material within.

“It’s fascinating.” Cadernia remarked.

“It’s as old as the Elven race itself. The books claim it’s one of many which lie on this realm and the realms beyond. A vast network which connects the different plains of existence allowing Seren to travel freely between. Old myths and legends, distorted by years of Elven whispers no doubt.” Arweinydd replied.

Arweinydd picked up a slice of Ambrosia, breaking it into two halves before standing up and handing one to Cadernia. Each took a small bite, once again savouring the flavour. The breads taste was a contrast of its plain appearance. The heavy bread was a vibrant mix of sweet and savoury tastes which bubbled and melted on the tongue. It was soft to chew and easy to swallow, making it easy to overindulge without the proper restraint. Arweinydd could already feel the Ambrosia assuage his hunger after only one bite. He took another and placed the rest of the bread into the bowl before covering it with a silk cloth folded neatly nearby.

“The feast is sure to begin soon, and the guest of honour will be expected to there. Let’s make our way back to Prifddinas to dress and prepare.” Arweinydd said to Cadernia.

Cadernia nodded in compliance as Arweinydd turned and began to pack up the picnic. She ran her fingers down the trunk once more, enthralled by the mystery behind what was seemingly an ordinary tree but clearly withheld much more. She peered down to the base. Between its roots the ground was bare and dusty. The grass appeared to refuse to grow any closer to the tree, as if it would be encroaching on sacred land. No. She looked further around the tree. The grass grew up to the roots all around the tree except this spot. This small patch of dry dirt. Why? Cadernia lent down to the dirt and wiped at it with her fingers. The patch of seemingly dead ground radiated with brilliant energy. She wiped again and again, forwards and backward taking off a few centimetres of dirt exposing a hard surface below. Ancient runes glowed from beneath a thin layer of dirt, letters she had never seen before, alien and un-elven.

“Ready?” Arweinydd asked, picking up the wicker bowl by two holes on either side.

“Yes, coming now.” Cadernia replied hastily and panicked, as if interrupted during a forbidden activity.

She quickly brushed the dirt back over the exposed runes, their radiance dimmed and extinguished by another layer of soil. She then stood up and turned to Arweinydd smiling.

“You seem unusually jovial for someone who is about to sit through yet another ‘distraction from study and practice’. What’s got you so excited?” Arweinydd inquired.

“This was a pleasant surprise. Thank you very much, it’s exactly what I needed.” Cadernia replied, covering the true intent of her enthusiasm. “Let’s go. The sooner we complete this ‘celebration’ the sooner we can return to more interesting endeavours.”

Arweinydd complied and lead the way through the forest and back to the great crystal city of Prifddinas. Cadernia made sure to remember every detail of the route so she could return later to see what those runes really were, alone.

[Cadernia]

Cadernia peered over the balcony at the grand hall below. The palatial dining room was decorated with trademark elven elegance, draped in white and silver for the celebration of solstice. A large table at the head of the room seated the royals, and each of the elven clans had its own table on the floorspace. Being a new Benywdod, Cadernia was not to sit with her family; she and the other women would sit with the Brynddals at the royal table - an honour for Rhoswen and Alwen, she was sure... Though she was entirely unfazed by the situation. As she scoped the room, she caught Arweinydd's eye as he sat beside his father. He smiled warmly, not displaying the usual level of endearment she was accustomed to, now that he was 'on duty' before his people.

She breathed deeply and began to descend the curved staircase, her long, sheer trail falling gracefully behind her and caressing each step. It seemed in that moment that the entire room was fixated on Cadernia as she entered; she was a beautiful creature of elegance and mystique and was no doubt the object of many lustful thoughts, but these things did not appeal to Cadernia. She valued power and knowledge above grace or beauty, and had developed something of a reputation for rebuffing the advances of some of the most esteemed elves in Tirannwn. It was assumed by most that her heart must belong to someone else, which was not entirely untrue.

"You look beautiful," Arweinydd said charmingly, as he stood to welcome her to the table. "Please, take a seat." he said, pulling out a chair beside him in the most gentlemanly of fashions. Cadernia felt somewhat uncomfortable by his adopted mannerisms. Arweinydd was naturally polite, caring and eloquent - that much could not be debated. Yet, as Cadernia was one of few people - perhaps the sole person - that he felt comfortable with, she couldn't help but notice something... off about him. He took his birthright very seriously and Cadernia found it sad, it was as though he was trapped. She equated power with freedom, and yet it seemed in this instance only to restrain the young prince. She entertained him with a smile and gently sat in the comfortable chair, no doubt crafted by one of the Craffach.

After polite conversation with the royals and a most delicious feast, Cadernia was starting to grow tired of the whole occasion. Not least of her annoyances were Arweinydd's royal duties, prompting him to engage in discussion with the other Benywdods. Cadernia was not perfect and was prone to jealous moods such as this; whilst she and the prince were not a couple, she was fiercely protective of her childhood friend. At least, that was the excuse she gave herself when she began to feel the encroachment of the Green Eyed Monster.

Alwen Craffach was not similar to the other female elves around the table. Her dress was simplistic and practical, her hair short and cropped and her exposed arms toned with light muscle and tanned through work in the sun. Cadernia was not one to judge on appearances, but the girl's boisterous attitude was enough to make her head hurt as the craftswoman boasted loudly about her many achievements in wood and stone. As interesting as the conversation might have been, Cadernia had but one thing on her mind: that strange discovery out in the forest. As the urge to uncover what lay buried beneath that strange tree was too much for Cadernia's inquisitive spirit, and she knew that she had to move.

After a tiresome wait for Alwen to pause for breath, Cadernia coughed gently and attracted the attention of her fellow diners at the royal table. "Fascinating, Alwen... Your work is indeed magnificent," she said, gesturing towards the small sculpture that the Craffach had produced from within her pocket earlier on. "I'm sure the prince would love to hear more of your stories." she said, grinning mischievously as Arweinydd tried to mask his contempt. "In the meantime, Your Majesty," she said, attracting the King's attention. "May I be excused? I feel a little lightheaded, all this excitement must have gone to my head. I think I need some air." she said, feigning drowsiness.

"Perhaps Miss Rhoswen could help you," smirked Arweinydd as his friend's face dropped.

The King chortled, apparently not hearing his son's suggestion. "Very well, Miss Cadernia. But do rejoin us later on! You've been quiet this evening, and we're all eager to learn of your experiences with the magic arts." he said, humbling Cadernia as the rest of the table nodded in agreement. She assured them she would return, and hurried out into the night, her shimmering trail floating behind her.

As she wandered the dark forests, lit only by moonlight, Cadernia began to realise she was struggling to retrace her steps. Pausing for a moment, she whispered in elven under her breath. As her gentle words caught the breeze, a pale white light formed before her and floated off into the woodland. She grinned with pride, recalling how she had known that learning the spell would prove useful in the future, and set off after the wisp.

Eventually, she arrived once more at the crystalline tree. The orb of light descended slowly into the dry patch of earth, and with another murmur from Caldernia, it began to burrow into the soil, forming a small crater. As it did so, the light from the runes she had discovered earlier penetrated the darkness, and soon something unexpected rose from the ground. Bound in a strange black leather, with some sort of skeletal structure forming the spine and secured tightly with a magical lock... It was a book.