The Ranseur Morality - Is redemption possible through machine or magic?

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June 20, 2009

A simple place, the forest. A place to lose oneself in the dank scent of moist undergrowth, the whispering sound of the breeze disrupting ferns, gently moving their fronds to and fro. Like many things in life, the forest could be seen as simply as one allowed him or herself to view it.

On a fine day like today, Kelva was content to lean back on a decaying barrel of a stump and relax. He took a bite out of a mushroom he had carefully selected from under the perpetual shadow of the stump. Its nutty flavor pleased him, and the sound of birds calling in the distance led him to feel a form of contentment that he often felt when he contemplated his calling in life.

He finished the mushroom and wiped some of the dirt on his hands on the thick bark of the dead tree and looked at its surface. He searched for a recession typically caused by a knot or sometimes by an animal looking to create a new home for itself.

It did not take long before he found what he searched for. Near the place where the roots of the tree had been pulled from the soil, there was an area which formed a natural bowl between two roots that had once been one, but had broken apart to find their own sources of water.

Kelva cocked his head slightly to the side as he looked at the murky water filling the valley between the roots. It had accumulated some debris, probably from the ceiling of the forest far above. He sniffed slightly, and could detect that the water had been there for some time. Not knowing if it were safe to drink or not, he shrugged and reached toward it with his index and middle fingers.

When his fingers touched the surface of the water, the debris rippled away from his touch and there was a slight golden glow that seemed to fill the entire recess. Kelva smiled at the glow and turned his attention to a belt pouch, from which he drew out a small wooden cup. He scooped some of the water out with the cup and drank from it before putting it back in the pouch.

He had been traveling from deep in the Alvrine forest for four days. He knew the many acres of trees and hills intimately, having walked through them for most of his 230 years of life. The last time he had toured this area, he remembered this tree had looked worse for the wear and was pleased that despite its surrender to death it provided so much to the life in this part of the forest.

Such was the way of life, he thought to himself. Life consumes what is necessary for survival, and in turn provides for the lives of others when its own spark dies out. He had once heard a crueler, yet not dissimilar saying that the living were nothing more than eventual fertilizer for plants, or the food for the animals who were not too choosy about what meat they consumed.

He had walked all this way because he had been summoned. This did not happen often, and in fact he could only remember a handful of times he, himself had been requested. He was sure it was something minor, as most times the surrounding kingdoms just wanted permission to use some of the forest resources.

The role of the druids had been significant in the past few centuries. He did not remember times before The Parting, but he had heard tales told in his youth of the history of the land before magic had left it. He had also learned that soon after that strange time, the people had tried to convince the druids to fill the vacuum of the arcane without success.

Druids worked for nature, not for the petty desires of humankind. Most druids were of the elven race, as elves tended to live their years of life in a more contemplative and less aggressive manner when compared to humans. Kelva had heard of a few of the animal spirits and other races which were guardians of nature, but had not met any.

His small druid’s conclave consisted of seven members, and the other six tended to forests within a hundred or so miles of his own. The forests had been diminishing in recent decades, for various reasons, although Kelva was sure some of it had to do with the increased role of industry in the lands. He recalled the first time he had seen an airship, and remembered being rather distressed until he had come to the realization that humans were always going to push the limit of their grasp of the ether in their attempts to regain what had been lost.

If this push resulted in strange technological marvels, so be it. Kelva was unimpressed, as long as such work did not effect nature in a profound manner. He, and others of his calling, knew the practicality of balance. Humans would always treat nature as a servant at best, and the role of the druid was to make sure that “servant” was treated respectfully.

Some of the conflicts he had involved himself in had revolved around humans who had wanted to reap the benefits of deforestation, or to mine the hills for all their various minerals. When it was taken to extremes, there could be serious repercussions not only to wildlife, but to the humans themselves. The blame for stopping exploitation of the natural world inevitably fell to the druids, and there had been more than one time where an overzealous farmer had tried to harm Kelva himself.

When that happened, the attacker soon found that assaulting a druid was an unwise choice. Druids could call down the heavens themselves in protection of the land, and few who lived after confronting a druid in such a manner ended up in the same situation twice.

Kelva retrieved his walking staff he had leaned against the stump and continued his journey, finding a path none but the most experienced woodsman would be able to locate. As he walked, he communicated briefly with nearby wildlife, chattering quickly at a squirrel, and telepathically giving his greetings to a soaring eagle. The animals seemed content, and the region had been undisturbed for the most part.

He knew that in the direction he was going, he would be reaching a minor seaport within a few hours of walking at this pace. His steps took him down a slight decline and into an opening in the trees. A small meadow greeted him with the warm spring sun. Kelva looked up at the sky to see a relatively cloudless day, which made him frown as he looked above the treeline in the direction he was heading.

A large amount of whitish smoke was rising in the distance, never a good sign in a woodland environment. Kelva could not smell smoke, and the animals in the area had seemed rather calm which was not typical when a fire was near. Something was not right.

Kelva had been looking forward to the walk, but he gave that up and rushed to the other side of the clearing to a young evergreen. The tree was no older than 50 to 70 years. Not much more than a sapling in this forest, but it would do.

Kelva reached out and touched the tree’s surface with both hands and closed his eyes, feeling the life of the woods through its thick bark. He concentrated on the tree’s roots, which intermingled with others nearby. When he reached the next tree with his enhanced senses, his body faded into the network of the forest itself and he became one with the tree.

His mind navigated the root system of the forest in a few heartbeats, taking him forward through a complex maze of earth, his consciousness darting this way and that as he finally found the limits of the forest and reversed the process, detecting the final roots of a large pine.

His consciousness drifted upward, out from the core of the mighty pine and his mind re-focused on the bark of this tree and he opened his eyes, many miles from where he had stood a moment ago.

He sighed as he looked up from the rough bark of the tree and turned. What he saw initially overwhelmed his senses. It had been about five decades since he had last been to this seaport, but it was hard to imagine that this was the same place he felt he had just visited.

His sight was flooded with large structures, some emitting the white smoke he had seen from the distance. That in and of itself was not distressing. Kelva had seen houses with fireplaces many times, but there were also large water vessels in a bustling harbor spewing out this same smoke.

And even more bizarre was the airships tethered to a long dock. He had seen the one airship some time ago from a distance and he had laughed at the humans who must have crafted the device. But seeing so many of them so close was incomprehensible. The dirigibles were gigantic, and the amount of metal that seemed to cover their sides made Kelva shake his head wondering how the things remained in the air.

The last time he had been in this village he had seen horse drawn carriages, and he still saw a number of horses in the small field in front of him, but some streets leading down into the heart of the village contained carriages with no horses, also spewing this same smoke.

Kelva wondered if this smoke was some sort of magic in and of itself. He smelled some woodsmoke, probably coming from the houses warming their inhabitants on this early spring day, but with all of it invading the heavens, he should be choking on the stuff, but was not.

This was not natural, that much was obvious to the druid. But there was no way to find the details standing at the edge of the forest. Kelva walked down the grassy hill to the nearest road. The grassy hill had obviously at one time been used for livestock. The length of the grass indicated that it had just begun to grow, so perhaps sheep or goats were brought up here at some point.

There was a fence between two houses, with a clasp that kept it closed. Kelva was not sure why there was a fence here, but he unhooked the clasp and opened the gate rather than vault over the top of the fence. He noticed that the two houses were made of wood, but not the simple log cabins which had been here before. Kelva peered down the lane and could not see any of those simple houses he remembered.

Stranger still, the wood used was not from this part of the forest. The houses were built from imported materials, that much was clear, but why would the villagers import wood when the forest was within walking distance?

Kelva could tell that there would be plenty to contemplate on his return trip through Alvrine forest. He shook his head as if ridding the trivial thoughts from his mind and walked toward the center of the village.

In fact, this could hardly be described as a village. The population had increased dramatically. Kelva saw a large smithy, several women chatting near some hanging laundry, and a stack of firewood well over twenty feet tall, carefully stacked neatly away from any houses, and sporting a roof supported by long posts, obviously to keep it dry.

Two boys, who appeared to be nearing their teen years, were pulling some wood down from the pile using a ladder, one handing the wood to another who placed it in a small cart.

“Excuse me,” Kelva intoned in his light elven accented voice. “I am looking for the village elders?”

The boys looked at each other, frozen in mid work the boy on the ladder holding a pice of wood, and the other holding out his hands to the wood even as they both stared at him.

“Well? I’m sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I have business to attend to.”

The boy on the ladder took four steps down and placed the piece of firewood into the cart then whispered something to his fellow. Kelva could have strained to hear, but thought it would be rude to do so, and awaited their response.

“We don’t have village elders, sir,” the boy from the ladder stated. Something in his voice gave Kelva the impression of confusion. “We’re a part of the empire, we are watched over by the Governor.”

Kelva looked to the sky, noticing that the white smoke gave it an appearance of overcast. “Governor? I see. I am sorry, last I visited there was a council of elders here.”

The boy who had been loading the cart scratched his head. “But the Governor has been here forever!”

The other boy slapped the back of the cart-loader’s head. “Stupid, it can’t have been forever!” he shook his head and looked back to Kelva. “I’m sorry sir, it’s just that the Governor has ruled over Abersham for as long as I can remember. I’m sure our Pa would know how long its been, but you were looking for the Governor then?”

Kelva shrugged. “I suppose I am,” he didn’t care who it was, he had heard from the archdruid that there was an issue that had to be dealt with in Abersham, and that a judge had been requested. He had just assumed that village elders would be the ones in control and would know where this trial would be held. Obviously he had been mistaken. “Sorry for the confusion. Please, could you direct me to the Governor, then?”

“You’re an elf, aren’t you?” the cart boy exclaimed.

“Peter!” the boy from the ladder, obviously the elder pushed the other boy down. “That’s just plain rude. Don’t upset him, I don’t want to have to explain to Ma that you went off and got your fool self killed because you were too stupid to know when to shut your mouth!”

Kelva waved his hands, hoping his gesture would ward off any worry that he might hurt either of them. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Yes, I am an elf,” Kelva turned his head to the side and gestured at his ears, which were longer and thinner than any human’s, tapering off to a narrow point. “Peter, isn’t it? Being an elf means nothing more than I have longer ears to hear you with.”

Peter scowled at the other boy. “I told you, Jack! Just because he is an elf doesn’t mean he’s here to kill us!”

Kelva frowned heavily. Elves had always been known as peace loving beings. Perhaps these boys had heard one too many monster stories. Jack had turned from Kelva just enough to face Peter, who was starting to get up. “You don’t know that! Pa said that elves were always a danger to us this close to the ocean!”

“Wait a moment, boys,” Kelva rushed toward them and pushed Jack back on his way to push Peter once again. “I’ve come from Alvrine Forest, not the ocean, and I am only here to decide on a matter the Governor must need assistance with.”

Jack threw one last scowl at Peter and turned to his right and pointed. “See that big building over there? You can’t miss it. Made of white stone. That’s where the Governor is.”

Kelva looked where the youth had indicated. His mouth opened slightly as he noticed the house a few blocks in the distance. It was built with white marble. Kelva had not heard of such stone being used in construction of buildings, let alone one of this magnitude. It looked like a palace, and the druid was slightly amazed that he had not noticed it sooner. It stood out from all the other wooden dwellings quite starkly.

“Thank you, boys,” Kelva nodded at both of them while they just stared at him. After a moment, Peter quickly looked to Jack and hit him in the arm. Jack yelled and Peter ran around the wood pile, the other boy waving his arms and running after him.

Categories Chapters 1-5

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June 24, 2009

Kelva continued to walk down the road. As he got nearer to the center of the town, the noise escalated. As he crossed the corner of a building, a large metallic squeal made him cringe and he noticed one of the horse-less chariots come to an abrupt halt less than a foot from him.

“Are ye DAFT?” a portly man up on a chair inside the chariot yelled. He took his small hat off and exposed a bald pate surrounded by disheveled hair and pointed at a post near the corner Kelva had just crossed. “The light is RED on your side, ya moron!”

Kelva looked to the corner and indeed there was a light post surmounted by a large ball of light that was green on one side and red on another. The red side faced him, and he noticed the green faced the vehicle.

“I am sorry sir, I have not been here in some time,” Kelva bowed his head slightly and made a conciliatory gesture by listing both palms to the sky. “Please take my apologies.”

“I’ll take your apologies if ya get out of the way of my auto!” As Kelva stepped back to his corner, the vehicle roared by and the man replaced his hat. Kelva shook his head and continued to cross the street once it had fully passed.

The marble building continued to grow in his vision as he walked on. Also, the population of the town seemed to be growing as he noted people walking around. Not all were human, which Kelva found fascinating. In the past, this village had seemed to be afraid of any non-humans, but he noted some Belph in the mix.

Belph were short human-like creatures, but were distinguishable by their unique noses. The Belph were said to be expert blacksmiths, engineers and overall industry-minded people. Kelva was not sure from what region they originally hailed, but he knew they did not tend to intermingle with humans in the numbers he saw currently.

One small Belph female seemed to be working on a light post like the one he had passed. She used a ladder to access a panel approximately five feet from the ground and had both of her diminutive hands inside the light post. The light on top of the post flashed on and off as electric buzzing emanated from her repairs. Kelva heard a few high squeaked exclamations as she worked, and he was certain a few of them were swears he had not heard in some time.

Kelva also noticed two guards arguing with a man behind the counter of a small kiosk. Apparently a merchant. The guards carried large spears slightly taller than they were. Another guard stood a few feet away carrying a strange cylinder-shaped item. It was black, but seemed to have a wooden end that the man held on to. All the guards wore baldrics of deep blue with the insignia of a sheaf of wheat bound to a sword.

The green-robed druid frowned at the insignia. When he had traveled here before the village had been independent. Kelva shrugged to himself as he walked past a stone-carved fountain. The governments in the lands were about as solid as the water being spewed out to the sky, he thought to himself.

Past the fountain, there was a courtyard covered in cobblestones in various shades of red. The contrast with the white marble of the governmental building reminded Kelva of blood on snow, and it seemed as if a number of soldiers were gathered haphazardly. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but soldiers were usually known for being organized and these men looked as if they were unsure of how to form ranks.

Again, Kelva spotted most with the large spears, and some with the cylinders. Some leaned on their weapons, some stood as if holding on to some kind of formality, but there were six or seven who had put their weapons to the side and formed a circle around two who were raising their voices. As Kelva walked closer, he could make out the words.

“This is ridiculous!” Kelva saw that the man who yelled wore a metal helmet, and was beginning to remove the straps holding it to his chin. “You know Saul as well as I do, and this is the last thing he’d do!”

The other man had already taken off his helm and smiled slightly as he replied. His reply was not as loud, but just as intent. “I told you, Jacobson, Saul is a drunk! What do you expect from the likes of men like him? If you want to get yourself all hot and bothered like he was last week, then let’s get this fight going!”

Kelva stopped despite himself to watch the confrontation. Jacobson continued to raise his voice. “You trained with him for the past few years. We ALL drink around here, Ellis, and you should be glad I haven’t had anything to drink yet or I would take up that offer for a fight in a second!”

Ellis shook his head and scoffed at Jacobson. The circle of men mumbled support for one or the other as they spoke. Kelva knew a fight was going to happen one way or another, and wondered who was responsible for policing the guards.

Ellis laughed. The laugh was deep and serious in a way that seemed like the bait for a trap. “Saul is a drunk, will always be a drunk. He’s only been in this company this long because of his FRIEND.”

The heckling and support from the other guards silenced as if on cue. They all looked at Jacobson, awaiting his reply. The moment of silence instantly erupted into released adrenaline as Jacobson tossed his newly removed helmet at Ellis’ face. Ellis deftly sidestepped the missile and crouched into a fighting stance, but his crouch did not stand as Jacobson tackled him.

Kelva’s eyes widened and his mouth opened in shock. He stepped back, holding his staff in one hand with his other held out as if warding off an incoming blow. As soon as the fight started, guards seemed to appear out of thin air and the druid’s view was soon obscured.

As the battle continued, shouts echoing around the plaza, Kelva finally composed himself. It seemed as if he had been off guard for an eternity, although in reality it had only been a few short seconds of panic. He gulped in a deep breath and wished for the forest as he quickly turned back to the marble building and advanced more quickly than he had before.

When he reached the entryway, two guards stood to either side of a broad stair leading to a mahogany door on a frame of gold. The guards strained to watch the fight at the same time trying to attend to their duty. One distractedly put his spear sideways in front of Kelva as he went to pass.

“Your name, sir?”

Kelva was startled by the question. “My name? I am Kelva Taurelasse, Druid of Alvrine Forest summoned to be a judge for the people of Abersham.”

The guard grunted and lowered his spear. “Very well. The Governor was expecting you, just never know who’d be trying to break in during a distraction like that.”

The other guard appeared to care very little and strained to see how the fight was faring. Kelva nodded at the guard who had confronted him and muttered a thanks as he heard shouts of victory and moans of defeat coming from the crowd.

He opened the doors, and was astounded at the luxury that greeted him. Being used to the variety and beauty of nature, Kelva thought the ornamentation was gaudy and ostentatious. The doors shut behind him and he barely noticed as he gazed around at the paintings, the gilded tapestries and animal head trophies. Despite his focus on balance, the druid had a hard time digesting the wastefulness of the animals set up as little more than museum displays.

The heads of large-antlered deer and bear dominated the walls to his side, and strange wall-hanging glass enclosed lights that seemed to show flames without wicks made the entry bright in a muted candlelight manner despite the daylight streaming through windows above the door.

Kelva wondered where the Governor could be found. The entry was a rectangular room with doors at the far end and to each side. Chairs lined the walls on each side. He wondered if he were expected to sit? As he brought his hand to his chin in contemplation, the side door to the right opened and a small creature darted forward a few steps but stopped mid-step and looked up at Kelva with his eyes wide and mouth agape.

“You’re not human! Wow! Other than a few Belph around, there aren’t too many non-humans here! It’s great to see someone who is not a Belph but still not a human, adds a bit of variety don’t you know?” The creature had a nose that could be described a long and needle-like, and as he talked Kelva noticed he did not stop to breathe and the final few words were made almost at a gasp. A short but large intake of breath led to another litany of quickly spoken words. “I’m a servant here myself, help around with things like sweeping and cleaning and serving and sweeping, did I already mention that? I love sweeping. In fact, I made my own broom! It uses porcupine quills, which is pretty dangerous you might think but when you get enough of them together they will pick up just about [squeak, gasp] any kind of dust!”

Kelva was astounded that such a small creature could talk so fast and say so many words on one breath. He wasn’t sure how to respond, but knew if he did not just interrupt the Belph he may not ever get a word in. “I’m sorry if I’ve disturbed your chores,” the Belph began shaking his head rapidly and began to say ‘no’ but Kelva continued before he could speak again. “but I am here to see the Governor. I was summoned to be a part of some sort of trial?”

“Oh yes, of course you are! I overheard some people talking about that!” He stopped to shake his head then snapped his fingers and suddenly looked simultaneously sad and happy at the same time, frowning then smiling then frowning again. “Oh no! Where are my manners? I’m Beldin! Beldin Porfeneld at your service!” He bowed and as he did so, his long nose touched his chest.

Kelva smiled. “I am pleased to meet you, noble Belph. I rarely get to see your kind in the deep forest. I am Kelva, Druid of Alvrine Forest. Will you announce me, or are you going to take me to the Governor?”

Beldin looked confused momentarily and bit his bottom lip, then jumped straight up in the air and clapped his hands. “Yes!” he cried and ran down to the end of the room, opened the door, ran through and slammed it shut.

“It is a good thing Belph are not in the forest. I am not sure the animals could handle that,” Kelva muttered and a moment later the door Beldin had run through burst open again and the small creature jolted a few steps then made a yipping sound before slapping his forehead and turning back to the door and slammed it shut behind him. He then turned back to Kelva and folded his arms and began tapping one foot. “Did you announce me?”

“No! You haven’t followed me yet!”

Kelva was not sure what that meant, but he leaned heavily on his staff for a moment and took a deep beath before walking to Beldin, who rushed ahead, opened the door and waited impatiently for the elf to follow.

Categories Chapters 1-5 | Tagged Abersham, Beldin, Kelva

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June 27, 2009

The next room had a large table that looked as if a full tree had been thrown into the room. It looked extremely heavy and each chair was high-backed and made of hearty oak. Kelva was sure the chairs were probably enough to rival some bears in weight. Kelva was ready to go through this dining room to see the Governor, but when he walked in Beldin ran to a chair nearest to the door and started pulling. The chair did not budge.

“Kelva!” Beldin grunted as he tugged at the chair. “I can’t get it to pull away from the table! Is it connected? I never get to help like this! Normally I just get to sweep afterward, which is fun and all but now maybe I see why I can’t help with something like this!”

The skinny elf walked over to the chair. Its back was about as tall as he was, which was approximately five feet. Beldin stepped back as Kelva went to pull it out from behind the table. It moved slightly, and as he noticed the effort it would take, he changed his tactic from a gentle pull to a coaxing touch and the chair moved almost of its own accord to a perfect sitting distance from the table.

“Hey, how did you do that,” Beldin asked in wonder. “It didn’t even make a sound!”

Kelva sat at the table and ignored the question with a wink. “When is the Governor going to join us?”

“Oh, he’s not.”

“What? You said you would announce me?”

“Oh, I will,” Beldin nodded rapidly. “when he’s ready!”

“When will he be ready?”

“I’m not sure. He said to someone else that you were early. I didn’t know what that meant until I stumbled into you at the entry. He didn’t seem too pleased, because when he is upset he makes this face that he makes whenever I end up sweeping near him. I think he must be allergic to dust or something, cause he always makes that face when I’m nearby.”

Kelva rubbed his chin. “Why would he be upset that I’m early?”

“Because Saul’s in a lot of trouble, and he wanted you to be here after the trial,” Beldin hit his forehead. “Oh no! I wasn’t supposed to say that!”

“Why would he want me here AFTER the trial? I was summoned here to be a judge.”

Beldin nodded more then stopped suddenly, made a face and collapsed to the floor. Kelva began to get up to help, but the Belph moaned and held a hand up to him. “I got dizzy. That happens sometimes when I nod too much.”

Kelva decided to change his questions. “Who is Saul?”

“Oh he’s nice! You should meet him. Sad he got in trouble. He’s one of the elite soldiers in training,” Beldin scrunched up his face from the floor and rolled on his side and began tapping his nose. “They call them Dragoons. I don’t know what that means, though.”

Kelva had heard of this elite force. The kingdom which contained his Alvrine forest was known as Mistonia, and the Mistonia Dragoons were a set of feared warriors who fought with equal efficiency whether mounted or on foot; close combat or ranged. Mistonia had partially been able to maintain their independence from larger lands due to the fear of a small force of Dragoons.

“What sort of trouble did he get into?”

“I dunno, but I’m sure it had something to do with too much of the magic juice,” Beldin made a tipping motion with his thumb and index finger to his mouth and crossed his eyes. “Saul likes his liquor! I’ve even brought him some before when he asked nicely.”

“Then why would the Governor of Abersham need me to judge something so simple?”

“Because Saul is friends with Kellion Norrington, another Dragoon in training,” Beldin finally sat up and started to stand next to Kelva. “He’s the son of the Emperor.”

Kelva remembered the line of Emperors of Mistonia. The Norrington Dynasty was not too old, historically speaking. When he first moved from the isle of the elves some 200 years before, a period of civil unrest had just been resolved when the prior dynasty had died out. He remembered hearing of Emperor Elrick Norrington taking power, and the amount of bloodshed to bring him to power.

“I see,” Kelva said as Beldin brushed off his blue pantaloons. “So this is a political thing the Governor does not want to deal with on his own?”

“Oh no, it’s not just that,” the Belph walked around the table to a door opposite the one they had entered from and began to push it open. “It’s mostly for the Test of Morality afterward.”

The door was thin and when Beldin pushed it open and walked inside, it flapped closed behind him. Kelva began to stand in order to follow, when the small creature suddenly reappeared as the door flapped into the room. “Oh, I’m going to get you something to drink but I forgot to ask! Would you like tea? Wine? Ale? Apple cider?”

“Cider would be fine, thank you Beldin,” the Belph clapped and turned around and received a face full of door right on his pointy nose. Kelva cringed and lamely made a statement as he vanished into the other room. “Watch for the door, small one.”

“Test of Morality?” Kelva shook his head. He had not heard of this before. He wondered if it was a new legal procedure. With a title like that it did not seem to be, and he supposed it was not a surprise he had not heard of it before as he had last played the role of a judge five decades before.

The time before, his role had been more mundane. It was a murder charge, and the village elders had been unable to come to a verdict. However, the murderer had used a club made of cherry wood, so they had hoped that a druid would be able to divine the truth.

Kelva was unable to communicate with the piece of dead wood, however he had been able to ask woodland creatures nearby who had witnessed the act of aggression and the proper killer had been identified. Kelva had been pleased the proper person had been caught, but the person accused initially had left the village in shame as the people had distrusted the druid’s magic. Kelva thought it funny as talking to the woodland animals was hardly magic.

He had been unprepared for the verdict, however, and was distraught that the murderer was sentenced to death. Substituting one death for another seemed like an atrocity to the elf, but there was nothing he could do to sway the elder’s decision. Kelva had left angry, and had vowed not to respond to another call for such a duty. The only reason he had responded this time was due to the specific order of the archdruid.

The door made the flapping sound again and Kelva heard a small cry but Beldin did not come out. He heard a crash and a “Oh!” then the door flapped to a close and all was silent again. Kelva hoped Beldin did not ever help with meals.

Eventually, the Belph managed to walk out and Kelva noticed the beverage he carried sloshed all over the tray he carried it on. When he got around the table and set the tray in front of Kelva, Beldin was very wet, and smelled like a brewery.

Kelva reached for the mug but Beldin grabbed it first, smiled and handed it to the elf. “There you go! Milord’s finest wine!”

“Oh, I asked for,” memories of the door stopped Kelva from finishing that sentence. “nothing but the finest wine!”

Kelva took a drink of the wine and Beldin nodded as he did so. Kelva hoped he did not get dizzy again.

“So, when is this trial?”

“Soon.”

“How soon?”

“I don’t know,” Beldin pointed toward the entrance. “But it’s at the courthouse. This is the Governor’s mansion.”

“I suppose it makes sense to see this trial, then,” Kelva set the mug down wondering why the Belph had used it instead of a wine glass. “Shall we?”

Beldin nodded and stepped back at the same time and tripped over the adjacent chair. Kelva stood and again used his affinity to nature to ease the wood of the chair back toward the table.

He walked out of the Governor’s mansion with Beldin trooping behind. The guard he had spoken to earlier lowered his spear as Kelva went to walk past. Kelva assumed they must have been told to misdirect him if he were to come to the mansion.

“You can wait for the Governor to return, elf.”

“I plan on seeing this trial.”

“Who told you about the trial?” Beldin began to creep back inside at the question. “You damn Belph! I wish the Governor would follow my suggestion and lock you in a cage!”

“He’s done no wrong but talk to a visitor, guard. Leave him be. Now tell me where the courthouse is.”

The guard shook his head. “You don’t need to see the trial. Just wait here.”

“Regardless, I will see it, now point me in the direction or stand aside.”

The second guard lowered his spear as well. Kelva touched the spear blade.

What happened next startled Beldin and shocked the guards. The wood of the spear suddenly warped at a strange angle and the blade fell off. The original guard saw this, and with jaw agape, he lowered his spear and stood aside.

“That’s better,” As Kelva walked past, Beldin attempted to follow but the guard stopped him. “Let the Belph come with me.”

“I’m sorry, Master Druid, but Beldin has to stay at the Governor’s residence. It’s the rules.”

Beldin looked downcast and his lower lip began to tremble, but Kelva needed to hurry if the trial was already underway. “Beldin, stay here and wait for me. Where is the courthouse?”

The guard made a sound to try and stop the small creature from speaking, but Beldin managed to yelp out, “Take a right at the fountain! Third building on the left!”

Kelva smiled and nodded at the Belph. “I’ll be back soon. Keep my wine safe, would you?”

Beldin smiled broadly, but stuck his tongue out at the guard as he walked back inside and Kelva hurried to the courthouse.

Categories Chapters 1-5 | Tagged Beldin, Belph, Druid, Governor, Kelva, Trial

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July 9, 2009

With all the people milling about outside the courthouse, Kelva had no trouble finding the correct location. The building was made of brick, and there was a picture of scales on a brass shield above the covered doorway.

A group of men stood to one side smoking pipes. The smell of the smoke intrigued Kelva and a vague memory of an ancient elven ritual came to his mind.

The memory must have been 200 years old, from back before he left Sesi’kirya. The island home of the elves was an enigma to other races. It was a land from which those who left could never return, not due to callousness on the part of the elves, but simply because no one could ever find the island again after sailing from its shores.

Not that claims to the contrary kept humans from assuming elves were arrogant, selfish and distant toward others. Humans just assumed that the place was one of great treasure and mystery, and there were many who embarked on quests to locate the elusive isle.

When an elf left the embrace of his or her people, a ritual was conducted which in the past had involved protection magic. The “Kestle” as it was called involved a gathering of the traveler’s closest family, friends and the elders of the tribes.

It was not often that an elf left the safety and comfort of Sesi’kirya. Their relatively small population mostly were content with the lush forests, refreshing waterfalls and pools and the peace and calm that could only be wrought by such a long lived species.

When one left, however, it was cause for a mix of sadness, excitement, celebration and mourning. The Kestle lasted for one year. Elves were masters of measuring the cycles of nature, and from the sunset of the day of parting intent to the sunrise exactly a solar cycle later there were stories told of the traveler’s life, predictions of their future and preparations for survival in the world beyond.

Kelva, like many elves, did not easily come to the decision to leave. He had nightmares penetrate his rest again and again. These visions he was mostly able to discount in the early stages as often he would forget them upon waking. He would simply be startled into wakefulness, with cold sweats and a lack of breath feeling as if he was being hunted, but not knowing why.

Time revealed more about the why than he cared to know as the dreams slowly became more tangible. Over time he would wake and remember a detail, an object, an event from the vision. Eventually, he was able to piece together the entire dream and realized that it was the same one revisiting the unconscious depths of his soul.

The nightmare always started with Kelva in a grassy plain with rolling hills. There was a sense of calm and contentment, which quickly slid into apprehension as the hills lowered and were filled with dark trees which began to fill the horizon. The trees broke out of the earth and the ground let out screams of pain as it was pulled apart.

Soon, Kelva found himself in the dark, lost under a canopy of old growth and he was crying out of sympathy for the pain the earth felt from being forced into the darkness. He sensed the earth noticed his tears and the ground opened beneath him and he fell, feeling terror at the rapid descent.

But rather than waking from the dream at that point, he eventually began to glide on warm drafts and landed gently next to a glowing anvil. On the anvil was a strangely forked spear that looked like the indication of the number three with your fingers.

A hammer laid on the ground, and as Kelva watched, the hammer floated up and struck the spear tip, making it glow like the anvil itself. Suddenly, the chasm he was in began to fill with water, and when Kelva looked for a way to escape he noticed he was chained to the anvil.

It was always this point where he woke up gasping for breath.

When he finally was able to remember the dream, he noticed it visited him each month at the time of the new moon and that made him wonder at the meaning of the dream itself. Elves held great significance to the ebb and flow of the moon, especially as their island was at the mercy of the tides of the sea.

The new moon had been linked to magic in times long past. The darkness symbolized mystery and a sense of foreboding, yet also of opportunity and planning. Kelva began to fret over where this dream fell, and went to a seer to see if he could learn more.

Elves had many kinds of wisdom and knowledge. Seers plotted the course of astrology and were said to be able to divine the future. It was also said they could interpret dreams, and the woman he went to lived inside a large hallowed tree. The inside smelled of incense and tobacco and the smoke created a dream-like atmosphere of its own.

The seer, once hearing the dream became very quiet to the point where Kelva worried that she had fallen asleep with her eyes open. But the unblinking eyes coolly regarded him for a time before she sighed and said, “I cannot tell you its meaning, nor can anyone on this isle. You will have to forget about learning about it until you find the Dream Seer.”

“Dream Seer?”

“Yes. I am afraid this seer lives out in the world, and is no one person but is unique to the mystery of each hidden dream. If you leave the isle, young one, you must follow your spirit and not obsess over this vision. Let the interpretation come to you when the Dream Seer encounters you.”

Kelva was mystified by the response, and held to it for a number of months doing nothing. The dreams continued, and finally he decided he must leave the isle and face this destiny, whatever it might be. When he announced his pending departure, the Kestle determined that he would be trained as a druid before he left. He would be a guardian of nature and one of the final holders of magic in the world.

Coming back from his memories to the present caused the elf to shake his head slightly. The men with the pipes had ceased their discussion to stare at Kelva, who had been standing still for a few moments lost in his past.

“What’reya about, sir?” a large man with a mustache that stretched from his ears, along his jaw and over his mouth centered his attention Kelva’s way.

“Has the trial started?”

“Yes about a half-hour ago or so,” he took a puff from the pipe and blew out perfectly formed smoke rings. “I’m sure they’ve fully assembled and announced the cases at hand by now.”

Kelva muttered his thanks and walked into the courthouse as one of the men politely held the door for him.

Categories Chapters 1-5 | Tagged dream, elven race, Kelva, Kestle, seer, Sesi'kirya

Thank you for stopping by! This is the beginning of a story I have been planning for quite some time. It is a steampunk fantasy, and if this genre is unfamiliar to you please read the "about" section for more information. Please leave any feedback and suggestions. The story will evolve as situations present themselves, and I will be open to solutions and possibilities from my reading audience. Hope to see you regularly :)

The current schedule of this story will include new chapters/episodes on Wednesdays and Saturdays.

Regards,

PS: Feel free to leave feedback by clicking on the chapter title then scroll down to the comments section or email me at ranseurmorality@comcast.net

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