Arad's Background

Essential Background Info (as known to Aradhelon)

The world on which you live is known simply as Karmana but that is also the name of the Goddess of all Life. You believe that Karmana is a single living organism and you are merely part of the complex fabric of life that forms the whole. Karmana is worshipped like Mother Earth or Gaia as an all-encompassing creator goddess and it is widely accepted that she is the root of all life in the world, from the smallest plant to the largest creature. The Forge of Life is the catch-all term for the birthplace of all creatures on Karmana. Its location is lost in the fog of memory, but there is no doubt in your mind that it is a real place and one of great power. All versions of the old stories agree that the Forge is where Karmana crafted the first of each of the peoples; forming their bodies from the fabric of the world.

Your own people, the children of the trees, or Elvrabor (Wood Elves), were the most populace of all the children of Karmana, closely followed by the Children of the Rock (Elvradhil) but you know that Karmana created intelligent life to match every niche of the ecosystem. Your people have had no contact with another race for generations but your race's natural longevity means they remain the stuff of history not myth. In keeping with their longevity, the birth rate amongst the Elvrabor (wood elves) is exceptionally low and decades can pass without a child being born. Elvrabor are literally born from the trees and every Elvrabor has a life-long bond with his birth tree, being irrevocably weakened if it is ever destroyed. They are able to merge with their birth tree at will and it is the one place they feel truly at peace and close to their creator, Karmana. Although they mate in bipedal form, the pregnant mother merges with her birth-tree soon after conceiving and does not emerge until her tree bring forths new life. It takes many years for the new sapling to mature sufficiently for the infant within to be brought forth. Only then, does life begin for the newborn. The family groves of the Elvrabor are their most closely guarded places and are never visited by any other than one born of the forest.

Without doubt the most powerful of Karmana's creations were the first-born, the Elvradrak, also known as the Guardians. Huge flying lizards of great power and great intelligence, it is difficult to imagine how such a thing could ever have really existed and Aradhelon wouldn't believe it possible if you hadn't seen one once, when you still very young. It was a shadow of its former glory though, driven mad by the tormenting of the false god, Treddar. The saddest sight you have ever witnessed was a band of warriors from your own people being forced to kill such a magnificent creature. You know in your heart that all the Elvradrak are born pure and you would love to find and save those few that remain in the far reaches of the world. To be warleader of your people on the back of one of the Elvradrak, would be a truly magnificent destiny.

The elders tell of an age when the Elvradrak roamed the skies all over Karmana, watching over her creation and keeping order between the peoples. So it was until the false god descended to the surface of Karmana and fought his siblings for dominion over creation. Having finally killed his brother and sent his sister into hiding, Treddar claimed Karmana as his bride; seeking to bend her to his will, he set about killing or corrupting her living creations, her children, to replace them with his own. In their role as guardians, the Elvradrak opposed him at every step and with his dying breath, the last King of the Elvradrak finally defeated Treddar in one-on-one mortal combat, guardian against false god. As a god, no mere mortal creature, even the greatest of the Elvradrak, could truly kill him, although he was mortally wounded. So bad were his injuries that Treddar was forced into a deep sleep that lasted 500 years, during which the Elvrabor and the Elvradhil led all the children of Karmana in a holy war to wipe every last one of Treddar's evil creations from existence. Worst of them all were the humans, created in an attempt to copy Karmana's children, the humans took life from the world but took no care of it. They seemed determined to control and use every resource that Karmana provided with no care for the life around them. With the Elvradrak at the van, and the boundless armies of the children of Karmana able to fight in every niche of creation, even the short-lived humans who spawned in their thousands like insects, could not survive. They had been driven almost to the point of extinction when Treddar finally woke from his slumber. When he returned, he brought with him dark powers the like of which had never been seen amongst the living. With their God back amongst them, the humans turned the tide of battle. Slowly at first, but gathering pace with each generation as the humans counted them, they expanded their control across the land. Through some dark agency of the false god, the children of Karmana lost much of their control over the elements of the world during this time and even the guardians fell in their hundreds, unable to resist Treddar's dark dweomer. Worse still, was his newfound ability to corrupt the minds of some of the Elvrakarmana and turn them against their own.

In their despair, the Elvradhil turned their backs on their creator goddess and sought refuge in the deep rocks of the mountains, their natural habitat and birthplace, as the trees of the forest were to the Elvrabor. Never seen above ground again, they are no longer considered children of the rock, Elvradhil, but are known instead as the Duar'evs, the lost ones. Lost with them was the ability to craft soulstones. Prized above all else by the Elvrakarmana of all races, soul-stones are intricately cut gems that are capable of containing some essence of the power of creation, dweomer held captive in stone. Their power was limited only by the skill of the Elvradhil craftsman creating them. Although many remain, none have been created since the Elvradhil abandoned Karmana and they are now treasured as near sacred relics by those that possess one.

  Aradhelon's Birth

The second child born to Endruvi'ir, Lord of the Great Forest, Aradhelon's birth was a highly significant event for the Elvrabor. At the time of his conception, no child had been born to a noble family for many decades and no noble family had produced two offspring for centuries. Prior to his birth, the crown would have passed to his elder sister, Kyra'ndria, but the ancient traditions of the Elvrabor held that the first-born son had primacy. His birth tree was slow to grow, slower than any in living memory and many amongst the elders feared that he would never emerge, heralding a new phase in the decline of the Elvrabor. When he finally emerged from the safety of his tree, he was a combative and even violent infant, more unruly than any seen in the Great Forest. Some of the elders whispered of dark forces while other related his behaviour to that of the lost warriors of the Elvrabor.

When it came time for the naming ceremony, after the young infant's third moon outside his tree, the priests withdrew to consult with Karmana and seek to divine his true name, that destined for him when his birth was sanctioned by the Goddess. In stark contrast to his prolonged and difficult gestation, the answer to the naming prayers was almost instant - Aradhelon - Royal Terror in the language of the gods. So instant was the answer and so troubling the name that three times Endruvi'ir sent the priests back to the trees to commune with Karmana. Three times they came back with the same name - Aradhelon - though none could agree whether the inflection on the word should augur one who would bring terror to the Royal house of the Elvrabor or one of the Royal House who would be a bringer of terror. Those wishing to assuage their Lord's fears sought alternate translations. 'Terror' they said could infer one who would be held in great awe by friends and foes alike, or one who would inspire fear in the forces of darkness that still dominated Karmana.

Unlike his troubled father, the young Aradhelon embraced his name from the outset, delighting in the implicit invitation to introduce a little chaos to the otherwise conservative world of the Great Forest. His Father though, sought constantly to control his youngest child, seeking always to bring calm where the young royal terror brought more chaos than was normally in the nature of the Elvrabor. It seemed to Endruvi'ir that the more order he sought to impose, the more the young Aradhelon leant to chaos. So it was that he pushed his son towards studying with the priests and healers of Karmana rather than learning the battle-magic at which his Sister excelled, fearing what destruction would result if the child could command the elements in battle. Gradually, under the always calm influence of the Priests of Karmana, Aradhelon found balance between law and chaos, coming to be known as one who would always strive for the middle-ground. Even at his most chaotic though, the goodness of his heart was never in doubt.

  Aradhelon's Story

Aradhelon crept through the damp undergrowth, his clothes already soaked from the morning dew. A small rodent, a hill hopper the warriors of the local hill tribes called it, scurried across the ground in front of him, instantly recognisable by its peculiar skipping run. At first glance the diminutive creature, barely larger than a field mouse, appeared to hop with its powerful rear legs, but Aradhelon knew that it never actually left the ground. He knew every creature that roamed these hills as though they were kin. The hill hopper stopped right under his nose and sniffed the air, unconcerned by his presence.

"You could tell me who's down there couldn't you?" He thought at the hopper, always preferring the telepathic speech that came naturally to all his people even though he knew the hill hopper had too simple a brain to understand. It turned to face him nonetheless, as if intending to reply, but instead skipped silently away. Aradhelon allowed himself a smile before continuing his painstaking crawl through the bushes. He had patrolled these hills for decades, always watching for any sign of the enemy's awakening. His Father, Endruvi'ir, the Lord of the Great Forest, was a boundlessly patient man, content to hide and wait rather than taking the fight to the human invaders while their cursed Emperor slept once more but Aradhelon longed for the glory of battle.

Worse still, was the need to protect the ridiculously short-lived humans who claimed these lands for themselves. He knew the prophecy of course, the son of the great Creator would be born to the unclean spawn of the false god but would rise from his mortal body to wash the world clean of Treddar and restore Karmana's children. He had listened attentively to the priests as they told and re-told it often enough. Worse still, was the idea that the next warleader of the Elves would appear at the side of the human-born. More than his Father's crown, it was the role of warleader of the Elvrabor that Aradhelon wanted for himself. To be the son and heir of a near-immortal King was an irrelevance but to be the first true warleader of the Elvrabor since Darick fell in battle with the false god, that would be glory indeed. The warleader was second only to the King but first above all in times of war. Aradhelon had secretly vowed to be the one to re-discover the lost glade of the warriors and lead the birth of a new generation of Elvrabor born to fight. Only the might oaks of the warrior clan could bring forth a new generation of Elvrabor with war in their hearts, ready to wipe Karmana clean of evil. Those born of the Great Forest were always destined for more peaceful arts.

Some nameless instinct had led Aradhelon to patrol this particular valley, well outside his normal routes. He had sensed something amiss and had felt compelled to investigate. He had crested the ridge late last night, when the moon was still low in the sky, anxious not to be silhouetted against the skyline and had spent the last five hours crawling through the low wiry bushes that lined the top of the valley. Another hour and he would reach the relative safety of the small forest below. It was no substitute for the Great Forest, but Aradhelon knew that no ememy could best him once he was in amongst the trees.

The sun was starting to warm his back by the time Aradhelon finally neared the tree line. The scrub and bushes that they were using for cover petered out twenty paces short of the trees. He stopped behind the last real cover before the safety of the forest and listened intently. His heart was racing but still he couldn't identify what was wrong. He lay still for another hour before he trusted that the trees were clear. He jumped to his feet and made to run but had barely moved two paces before arrows thudded from the canopy of the trees ahead.

"Gralk!" Aradhelon exclaimed, even in his native tongue it was barely a curse but it was the strongest that he ever used. He threw himself sideways, rolling in the bushes before leaping to his feet and charging the trees. He had misjudged the patience and skill of his opponents, a mistake he rarely made. Two more arrows hit the ground where he had rolled only a heartbeat before. A third ricocheted off his forearm bracer. Aradhelon hardly even noticed the sting of its impact. He reached the nearest tree and swarmed up it with the speed and grace of an attacking panther. As soon as the first arrow was fired he had located his opponents. He wasn't about to let them fire again. At the top of the tree two humans span round on the makeshift platform that they had so expertly hidden in the canopy. They struggled to draw their swords, surprised by Aradhelon's speed. His arm whipped out and his extended fingers smashed into the first soldier's windpipe. The lightly armoured man staggered backwards. The platform was barely large enough to hold the three of them and the soldier stumbled off the back, clutching at his throat as he fell. He landed with a sickening thud on the ground below. The second soldier drew his short sword but Aradhelon was still too fast for him. He stepped inside the first clumsy lunge, grabbing the soldier's sword arm as he moved. Aradhelon's free hand now contained a small hunting knife. He slit the soldier's throat and, in the same fluid motion, span his body over the side of the platform.

"Gralk!" He swore again, muttering the word through clenched teeth. He leapt lightly down the branches, jumping the final twelve feet to land in a catlike crouch beside the limp body of the soldier with the sliced throat. His blood was racing and his always sharp instincts were on fire. In the blink of an eye he absorbed his surroundings. The flurry of unnatural violence had silenced every forest creature within earshot; the corpse at his feet was no longer a threat; the second soldier lay dead to his right. Aradhelon had thought the area safe before but now he knew it. Once he was in the forest nothing could surprise him.

The two dead soldiers were easy to identify; their black and gold armour clearly identified them as dragon soldiers, members of the Emperor's own bodyguard. They were the best fighting men in the Empire, no other humans could ever have surprised Aradhelon so close to a forest. Good though the legion were, their trail was still obvious to experienced eyes; it led Aradhelon to the edge of a clearing at the base of the valley, not more than a mile from where he had been ambushed. He melted into the shade of the nearest tree and stared open-mouthed at the scene laid out before him. The area was filled with the smart military perfection that was an Imperial encampment. He knew in a glance that the entire First Legion were deployed in front of him but he had no idea what their presence here meant.

Aradhelon remained hidden, unmoving and effectively invisible to human eyes until the safety of night had fallen around him. The nearest tent was at least twenty paces inside the clearing and there was still plenty of activity, despite the hour. A camp of nearly five thousand soldiers could never be truly silent. Despite the risks, Aradhelon knew that he had to learn more. His Father must know what the Imperial bodyguard were doing within one days hard-marching of the edge of the Great Forest. He left the sanctuary of the trees and began to creep forward. For several agonising minutes he felt completely exposed but the nearby tents soon enveloped him in their protective shadows. The patrols were sharp-eyed professional soldiers; Aradhelon was impressed with their diligence. They moved about the camp in pairs following a deliberate but near random pattern, seldom speaking. The Dragon Legion had a fierce reputation and they were giving him no reason to doubt it. The commander's tent would be in the middle of the encampment, standard legion practise, but Aradhelon knew he had no chance to reach it. He would not underestimate this enemy again. Instead he angled toward one of the numerous Captains' tents, obvious by their company pennants flapping proudly in the breeze. He nestled deep in the safety of the shadows behind the first that he reached. Before he had even stopped moving he knew that the tent was empty, he could always sense when humans were close.

"Sergeant!" The booming voice from just the other side of a thin canvas wall practically stopped Aradhelon's heart. Twice in one day he had failed to detect the presence of an enemy. Something was very wrong and he had no idea what. "Yessir." The second voice responded from the far side of the tent. Aradhelon guessed that the sergeant had been somewhere out front. "Sergeant, the eastern perimeter has put up a warning flare." The Captain continued in a calm, business-like, voice. "Looks like we can expect company. Double the patrols on our sector and dispatch one squad to join the sweep." "Sir." "One more thing Sergeant." The Captain called after the departing soldier. "If the outer perimeter has been breached it can only be those damn Elves. Nobody else would have got through." "Don't worry Sir, we'll check every shadow and every tree." The Sergeant reassured him.

Aradhelon didn't share the Sergeant's easy reassurance. They knew he was here, they were already searching for him and they were going to be looking hard. He hated to admit defeat but he knew he had to leave, while he still could. From inside the tent he heard the unmistakable ringing sound of polished steel drawn from a scabbard; he leaned closer, trying to discern any snippets of intelligence, whilst simultaneously plotting his escape route. Without warning the sword blade pierced the canvas wall and sliced through Aradhelon's armour. He grimaced in pain and shock but made no sound. He leapt to his feet and sprinted away. All hope of stealth was lost but still he ran from shadow to shadow. He was deep in an enemy encampment, at least a hundred yards from the trees and wounded. Behind him he heard calls to action as battle-hardened warriors leapt to defend their camp. Soldiers were closing in from all sides. Aradhelon darted toward the nearest campfire. He grabbed a burning log, ignoring the red-hot pain in his hand. Confusion was his only hope now. He threw the log into the nearest tent. The hungry flame leapt immediately up the dry canvas. The tent became an inferno in an instant. The trees were still fifty yards away. At least three pairs of soldiers were between Aradhelon and the forest. He knew scores more were closing from behind. He darted behind the burning tent. The flames and smoke were his best hope. Sprinting sideways across the tent line his eyes desperately sought a clear path. The trap was closing all around. Aradhelon charged the nearest soldier. At the last moment he ducked and rammed his shoulder under the man's breastplate. He lifted his helpless opponent off his feet and literally ran straight through him. The trees were only thirty yards away. In their cover he had a chance. Twenty yards now but he could practically feel the breath of the nearest legionnaire. Ten yards and for the first time Aradhelon believed he could make it. The wound in his side was forgotten, pain washed away by adrenaline.

A sharp blow in the back of his leg brought fresh pain and sent Aradhelon crashing to the floor. His groping hand found the shaft of a crossbow bolt. It was too late to care now. A circle of steel closed around him and he waited for death.

"Alive!" A deep booming voice broke through all the noise and chaos. "I want him alive!"

With the discipline of professionals, the pack of men that had engulfed Aradhelon all took a step back; two pairs of hands grabbed his arms and hauled him to his feet. He hung limply between them. In response to an unseen gesture, a third soldier grabbed a handful of Aradhelon's hair and jerked his head violently back. He could now see the owner of the commanding voice.

The dragon etched in solid gold on a burnished black breastplate could only belong to a very senior officer. Even without that clue, Aradhelon recognized the General's pips on the man's shoulders.

"Andivas." Aradhelon whispered the name. "You know me elf?" General Andivas practically spat the question. They stood face to face, opposites in every way. Andivas was a tall heavyset man, the muscular frame of his youth now softening around the edges, and his round face topped by thick blond curls was in stark contrast to the elf's flowing features. "The butcher of Katumo." Aradhelon replied quietly. Andivas laughed out loud, clearly pleased by the answer. "Then you know what I think about your kind. Vermin like you don't deserve to breathe the same air as us."

Every elf knew the name of Andivas; the man had led the most recent of the Empire's vicious genocides against the children of Karmana. Countless thousands had died under his orders; men, women and children were slaughtered in their homes. Whole clans were burned alive in the forests that had been their home for centuries. No elf had ever looked Andivas in the eye and lived; Aradhelon had little hope of escape before but now he had none.

"Bring him." Andivas ordered. It was the last thing that Aradhelon heard before a blow to the head sent him sliding into unconsciousness.

When Aradhelon finally awoke he couldn't move; he had been lashed to a makeshift cross, his arms stuck out to either side and his legs were bound tight against the main pole. The tent was silent but well lit. Even with his head bowed, Aradhelon could see an opulent interior. The floor was lined with fine rugs and the furnishings were all from dark blackwood trees. He knew without checking that the trees had been felled in their prime, humans never showed the proper respect.

"You are awake Elf?" The voice was calmer than General Andivas and its owner sounded considerably more educated. Aradhelon strained to see his face but the man was somewhere behind him, seated he gauged. All that Aradhelon could see was the richly furnished interior of a tent that must belong to a senior nobleman and two silent guards stood facing him. Their faces betrayed their pure hatred and Aradhelon felt a chill down his spine. Both were dressed in the uniform of the legion but one had an angry red welt running across his throat and the other had massive bruising to his windpipe. A terrible idea filled Aradhelon's thoughts. "Forgive my poor hospitality but your people have a fearsome reputation when cornered." The owner of the voice emerged from behind him. He was a well-dressed and surprisingly young human; Aradhelon always found the ages of humans hard to guess but this man was clearly younger than the Duke, the only other human he really knew. He was wearing simple robes of dark blue silk with a large platinum broach in the form of a crescent moon. Aradhelon's eyes dropped to the man's ring finger and spotted the tell-tale black gem in a gold mount.

The subtle eye-movement was not lost his captor. "Yes, I sat on the Low Council." The man explained, studying his own ring as if seeing it for the first time. "I thought soldiers didn't trust wizards." Aradhelon sneered. He was well aware of the fine political balance between the College of Mages and the Imperial Legions. With the Emperor deep into several hundred years of sleep, the two biggest power blocks in the Empire were in a constant fight for control. Their victories were as subtle as their battles; neither group could risk angering their Emperor, the false god, by completely destroying the other. "I'm not a wizard." The silk clad man answered with a smile. "But where are my manners. I am Ro'Dell and you are one of Karmana's people I take it? I have never met an elf before but Andivas is somewhat …… experienced in these matters."

Aradhelon didn't bother to answer. Outwardly he studied the crescent moon symbol but inwardly his mind sought for clues to his captors true identity. Humans were like dark areas of chaos amidst the calm and perfection of Karmana's creation but human wizards buzzed with stolen energy, a gift from their false god. Aradhelon had never before been this close to a senior wizard without his senses being overwhelmed by the overflow of power. Ro'Dell was different, his aura was focused inwards. Aradhelon could sense the vast store of power within the man but felt no sign of his connection to the Emperor.

"Surprised?" Ro'Dell smirked. Without warning his aura burst into life, the mental shock practically knocked Aradhelon back into unconsciousness. A single shaft of brilliant light connected Ro'Dell to an unseen source of incredible power. Aradhelon had watched powerful Elven shaman communing with Karmana, and he even had some skills of his own, but none had tapped power on this scale. The light was visible only in Aradhelon's mind but lightning was crackling around Ro'Dell's fingers now and that was real.

Aradhelon tensed, he had seen his sister conjure similar dweomer; he tried to flinch away but still the attack came. Bolts of lightning shot from Ro'Dell's outstretched hands and racked Aradhelon's already damaged body with incredible, burning pain. The wounded elf cried out once, just before he returned to the sanctuary of unconsciousness.

He awoke a few minutes later, as best Aradhelon could measure time. The wizard hadn't moved; the guards were gone but then Ro'Dell clearly had no need of them. He stood in front of Aradhelon with a triumphant smile.

"You are the first elf I've had the chance to try that on." He explained. "I wasn't sure it would work. They said in the University that your people were carved out of the trees and could not be harmed by such things but then those fools still worship Treddar, the broken god." "Then you accept that he is a false God?" Aradhelon couldn't resist the dig. "Oh he's definitely a God." Ro'Dell laughed, briefly. "For the first thirty years of my life, he was inside my head, infecting my thoughts. You'd be amazed how many people think their emperor is only a myth created by the wizards and the legions to maintain order but I have felt the power of his mind overlaid on mine. He is definitely a god but I found another master, one who doesn't need to sleep every hundred years to rest his broken body, one who is a lot more generous with his power. Now, tell me about the boy and I'll spare you another experiment."

Aradhelon didn't answer, he held the wizards gaze, wondering why he was still alive and whether Ro'Dell was even sane. "What boy?" he finally replied and was immediately rewarded with a fresh burst of lightning, shorter this time but just as painful. "The one in the fortress, you can feel the power inside him from across half the continent."

Aradhelon's didn't have to answer for his eyes to betray the sudden rising panic he felt within.

"It's too late elf." Ro'Dell reassured him. "I know all about the big secret. The council know that Maladan employs elves, even though Imperial Law is quite clear on the subject. His Grace knows that Treddaria is a long way from here and, of course, he is protected by more than just elves. All this time the Council knew what you were doing and never bothered to wonder why."

Still Aradhelon kept silent; if there was any truth in what Ro'Dell said then this was clearly some secret tryst between his Father and the humans; although it would explain his sister's many trips to visit the Duke since the birth of his son.

"Well now I know what even the Emperor doesn't. All those years spent guarding Malada's heirs, waiting for your Messiah to fulfil a hopeless prophecy; well, soon his power will be mine instead." Aradhelon laughed despite his panic, certain his Father could defeat any mere human. "You're wasting your time wizard." "Maybe." Ro'Dell leaned in so close that Aradhelon could feel his breath on his face; for the first time the elf saw the madness deep in the wizard's eyes. "But I'm not looking for a saviour, I just need the soul of a god. So tell me about the boy."

Aradhelon kept silent and waited for the pain. He didn't have to wait long. Fresh bursts of lightning shot from Ro'Dell's fingers and tore through Aradhelon's body. He tried to block the pain but every nerve in his body was on fire. When unconsciousness finally returned, it was a welcome relief.

The shock of cold water brought Aradhelon back to consciousness, dashing his hope that Ro'Dell would just kill him.

"They tell me that your people are skilled with the bow." Ro'Dell spoke softly, his fingers caressing Aradhelon's still bound right hand with surprising gentleness. "Difficult without a hand I imagine."

Ro'Dell paused to let his words sink in and slipped a curved hunting knife from the scabbard at his belt. He stared idly at the blade as though it were a meaningless object picked at random. "Of course I could just kill you with a thought." He observed. "But that would be so pointless."

Aradhelon tried to let his thoughts drift and seek the sanctuary of meditation but still he felt the sharp sting as the knifepoint pressed against his wrist. Ro'Dell gently slid the tip along Aradhelon's hand until it rested against the innermost joint of his smallest finger. Without warning he thrust the knife hard into the cross-member to which Aradhelon was bound, severing his finger in one cut.

This time the relief of unconsciousness did not come and Aradhelon was left trying to block out the throbbing pain, summoning all his mental discipline. Still he made no sound.

"I've never used a bow myself but I imagine it would still be possible with three fingers. Shall we try for two?" Ro'Dell let the point of the knife press firmly against the joint of Aradhelon's ring-finger. "Tell me about the boy. How old is he now? What does he look like? Is he in the Castle? What powers does he have?"

Aradhelon suppressed the urge to smile. Whatever secret his Father and Sister were harbouring, the wizard was clearly still ignorant of the details.

Sharp pain snapped Aradhelon's thoughts back into focus as Ro'Dell droved the knife blade hard into the wood, severing another finger.

"Two left, still enough to fire a bow do you think?" Ro'Dell asked casually. "What about when I remove your hand or both your hands?"

To emphasise his word, the wizard gently slid the knife blade along from finger to wrist, pressing just hard enough to draw blood all the way. Without warning, more lightning shot from Ro'Dell's empty hand. Aradhelon twitched and writhed against his restraints but the pain stopped just before he passed out.

"You're wasting your time." The rough, booming voice of General Andivas called from the tent entrance. "His kind don't value their own lives, they just care about returning their filthy souls to that whore they call a goddess."

Aradhelon tensed at the words, then forced himself to relax. It was too late, Andivas saw that his words had stung and smiled.

"You're right of course." Ro'Dell acknowledged the older man with a nod. "I was just curious to see how they handled pain. I've never been this close to a live elf." "The hounds have been summoned." Andivas stated bluntly, apparently bored by the topic of torturing elves. "Release him whenever you're done."

Aradhelon dared to allow himself a glimmer of hope. He knew that humans liked to use hounds when they hunted for sport. Would they really be so foolish as to try and hunt him? Ro'Dell turned in time to see the renewed hope in Aradhelon's eyes.

"Don't be stupid, elf." He chastised Aradhelon. "My master's little pets are really quite special, very special indeed. If they want you dead you won't get even half-way back to your precious trees." "Then what?" Aradhelon asked. "I have a gift for the boy and you are my messenger." Ro'Dell removed another knife from his belt, still in its scabbard. Aradhelon immediately recognized the large diamond at the end of the hilt, soul-stones were rare outside the elven forests but there could be no doubt that one was mounted in Ro'Dell's knife. It was a priceless artefact. His confusion deepened as Ro'Dell slipped the scabbarded knife into Aradhelon's tunic. "The hounds are just there to make sure you hurry and don't take any detours."

Aradhelon struggled to spot the trap in the suddenly unexpected chance at freedom. "You're letting me go?" He asked. "Make no mistake elf." Ro'Dell cut the leather straps that bound Aradhelon to the wooden cross. "The hounds belong to my master and they are hungry for the soul of an elf. If they catch you then I will have to find another messenger." "Fool actually thinks he has a chance to escape." Andivas smirked as Aradhelon passed him. "I swear you've got a blacker heart than me Ro'Dell. At least I just kill 'em"

Freed from the Imperial camp against all odds, Aradhelon fled through the forest as fast as he had ever run. His side burned from the sword wound; the tip of the crossbow bolt was still buried deep in his thigh and his hand throbbed where Ro'Dell had removed his fingers with surgical precision. Despite all the pain, his mind was racing with unexpected hope and newfound possibilities. In just a handful of minutes his life had reversed direction again. An entire legion had stood, passively watching, as Aradhelon stepped cautiously out of Ro'Dell's tent in the very centre of the encampment. Despite the pain of his injuries, he had straightened his back and walked proudly back towards the edge of the forest; it took every effort of will not to sprint for the sanctuary of his beloved trees. The few short minutes it took to cross the camp stretched until they seemed an eternity. Aradhelon tried not too tense against the expected impact of a crossbow bolt from behind; he knew he wouldn't even have time to feel the killing blow that any one of hundreds of soldiers could fire. It was only in those moments that Aradhelon began to truly realise that something was terribly wrong. The Imperial Bodyguard may be the best soldiers in the Empire but they were still only human. Aredhelon knew humans, he knew what they smelled like, he knew what they felt like. The only human souls that he had sensed in this entire legion of five thousand men were Ro'Dell and Andivas. That realisation had spurred him to increase his pace. First a fast walk, then slowly a jog as the trees drew near; he broke into a run within ten paces of the forest edge and was sprinting by the time the first branches whipped past his face.

All pain was forgotten now as Aradhelon's instincts took over. He knew exactly where he was, there was no forest in the world where he could ever be lost. Without thought he was charting a path back to the safety of the Great Forest, his home and ultimate sanctuary. He didn't understand the meaning of what he had seen; he didn't understand how a legion of five thousand men had no souls; he didn't understand how he had been caught so easily; he didn't understand how the College of Mages apparently knew a secret of his Father's that he even he didn't know; he didn't understand why he was still alive but he was absolutely certain that he would warn his Father. He ran through the trees, confident that no human soldier could ever track him. Unfortunately, he knew that whatever the soldiers of the First Legion had become, they weren't simply human anymore.

Aradhelon had only scaled half the steep, wooded, valley side when he realised that he was being followed. Like all forest creatures, Aradhelon knew instinctively when he was being pursued. He quickened his pace, moving as fast as he dared without being reckless. He was still too weak to recover quickly should he fall. The trees whistled past his head, branches bending in the wind to clear a path as the trees themselves answered an ancient instinct. The extra pace did nothing to release the sense of danger. The trees were no longer parting for Aradhelon, they were shrinking back from whatever was behind him. Aradhelon knew now that his enemy did not belong to Karmana's world. He upped his pace again; Ro'Dell had said the hounds would kill him if they could. For the first time in his life, Aradhelon knew fear in a forest. His heart was pounding with more than exertion. The bolt in his thigh stung like fire with each step. His side was numb and his fingers ached. Now fear had its icy grip on his heart. He was already running as fast as he was able. He knew that he had to outsmart his opponent. Anything that could match him in the forest would easily catch him in open ground. As soon as he cleared the tree line at the top of the valley this chase would be over. He started jinking left and right, making repeated sharp turns to try and lose them. Any forest creature that had ever tried to escape a predator would have recognised his actions. Aradhelon was the prey now and he knew it. As he dodged and weaved through the trees, his mind raced. Nothing had threatened him like this for all of his long life. The forest was his home, his natural place. Never before had he felt true danger amongst the trees. He wasn't leaving a trail, he never did, and his people left no scent in the trees; yet, despite all that, something was tracking him and chasing him down. Thoughts of what was behind chilled his blood. He could feel the threat closing with every step. He started to imagine hot breath on the back of his neck. No natural predator could follow so unerringly; no natural predator could have followed him at all.

Aradhelon's heart was pounding and his blood was racing but he knew he could hold this pace for a long time. His people were famed for their stamina. The trees passed in a blur, even a mounted opponent couldn't have matched Aradhelon's pace in the forest. No matter how fast he moved, his opponent was faster. With every step, his enemy closed. He imagined sharp teeth closing around his throat. If he kept running the ultimate conclusion was inevitable. Death held no fear for Aradhelon, he knew that the Lady Karmana awaited his soul but the desire to protect his people drove him on. He risked a glance over his shoulder, knowing that one stumble would bring death. He saw nothing with his first glance and looked again, driven to recklessness by fear and morbid curiosity. Still he saw nothing. The sense of dread was almost overwhelming. He looked again and an unseen root caught his foot. He stumbled forward and struggled to retain his balance. Arms flailing, he managed to stay on his feet but the mistake had slowed him down. It only took a fraction of a second to trip and recover his balance but his pursuer was now closer than ever. The air under the forest canopy was warm but Aradhelon could feel an icy chill in his heart. Whatever was behind him was pure evil, he could sense the corrupt soul drawing life from the forest. Aradhelon knew his only chance was to stand and fight. The thought terrified him. His throat was dry and his pounding heart beat faster still.

Aradhelon tried to focus on thoughts of fighting. He scoured the forest ahead for a defensible spot. All he saw were trees. Always before the forest had been his sanctuary, now it looked like being his grave. Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, first to the left and then to the right. The creature was not alone. At least two more were closing in from either side. The thought of fighting just one demonic creature had terrified Aradhelon. Now there were at least three. His mind raced, desperately seeking escape and survival. Whatever they were, the creatures were faster than him; to look for the safety of height now would be suicide. Even Aradhelon would barely get his feet off the ground before they were upon him. If the trees couldn't protect him, Aradhelon knew there was only one option left. Numerous waterways fed the mighty Mal'Mer River below from the mountains above. He strained every instinct he possessed to sense where the nearest water would be. The evil brooding presence of his pursuers was a constant chill on Aradhelon's heart and soul; they were closing with every pounding heartbeat. His whole body shuddered with the darkness that now surrounded him.

The chasing pack was closer than ever and for the first time in his life Aradhelon knew blind fear. Instinct drove him forward. His sharp ears picked out at least two creatures breathing only a few paces behind him. Sweat soaked his clammy skin. He prayed to Karmana that the next stream was as close as he thought and big enough to offer protection. More movement was clearly visible now to the left and right of him. Eerie shadowy shapes raced through the undergrowth, matching his pace and waiting for the chance to pounce. Aradhelon's shoulders started to drop with the despair of impending death. His legs were heavy and his lungs were burning.

In that moment of his darkest despair, the air was suddenly filled with arrows, whistling past his head and body barely a hands breadth away, he clearly heard each one as it passed. Only Elvrabor archers would strike with such confidence and accuracy. Finally he dared to hope. Stumbling towards the line of still hidden archers, he began to pick out the shapes in the trees until, when he was close enough to catch a glimpse of a patch on the chest of the nearest, the wolf's head, his sister's symbol. Kyra had come for him, probably the only other of their people who routinely strayed so far into the lands of the humans, this was the same sister whose secret plans the human wizard sought to subvert.

"Kyra!" He sent the urgent though across the forest, the nearest his people ever came to shouting. "Take care - this enemy is ali'um." He deliberately used the cursed word, ali'um, to indicate a soulless enemy not of the living world. "Fear brother?" She thought back, laughter clear in the tone of her thought. "You?"

Kyra stepped from cover, not bothering to conceal herself in the trees and her company followed suit, bows trained on the trees, scanning for the enemy. Only now, as he stumbled through their lines and looked over his shoulder, did he realise that there was no sign of the shadow hounds that had pursued him.

"Where?" He thought to his sister, they had always required few words in a thought to convey their meaning to each other. "Hidden." He knew immediately that she meant their enemy had gone to ground but had not fled.

As if reinforcing the prescience of her words, the dark shapes leapt from the forest floor, like smoke taking form. Every archer let fly their arrows and nocked another before the first had even struck. Untroubled despite every arrow finding its target the hounds tore into the elves arrayed before them. Aradhelon reached desperately for a sword that he immediately realised was no longer there, the icy pain shooting through his mutilated hand even as he did so.

"Fall back!" he blasted the thought across half the forest, watching in horror as his sister stepped forward to engage the nearest hound with her own sword, cursing how alike they were.

Kyra's blade glowed as it embedded itself in the nearest hound and almost immediately the creature dissolved back into the inky black smoke from which it had formed. "See brother!" She yelled back at him with her mind. "Nothing but a shadow of evil"

Even as he formed the thought to reply, Aradhelon stopped, momentarily frozen in horror as a new terror flowed through the trees, taking form as it emerged from the shadows.

This new enemy was clearly humanoid, though still as insubstantial as the shadows given form. He felt pure evil and death radiating from it and knew that this was no illusion or conjuration. Perhaps the hounds' master had come to find his pets.

Without fear or hesitation, Kyra stepped forward, meeting the new threat with an explosive ball of fire before it closed fully to combat. Aradhelon had seen her twist the energies of the world in this way before, though at heart he preferred the more natural powers of Karmana, using her energy for healing and transformation rather than death and destruction. Still even his Sister was rarely reckless enough to unleash such destructive power in a forest so he knew that she had sensed the same deep evil as him. Apparently untroubled by the fire or the sword, the wraith wrapped its shadowy tendrils around Kyra's arms and pulled her towards its heart. Aradhelon watched in horror as the life, the very essence of her soul, was drained from his Sister's body.

"A sword! Somebody throw me a sword!" He broadcast across the pack of elves, most still locked in combat with the shadowy hounds. Even in the instant the thought left his mind, Aradhelon was grabbed from behind and dragged backwards, his brain struggling to correlate two suddenly overlapping images as the forest around him was replaced by the foliage of the largest tree he had ever seen, the battle in the forest now viewed as though through a door in the fabric of the world. A door which was suddenly no more, leaving only the seemingly endless branches of the great tree filling his vision.

"What do you see?" A voice, a female human voice, asked from behind him.

Aradhelon span in place, immediately ready for a fight but he was confronted by the sight of a beautiful girl, barely an adult as humans judged such things. Dressed in a simple white robe with her long blonde hair flowing past her shoulders, she radiated peace and tranquillity, in a way that he had never felt from a human before.

"Who are you?" He shot the angry thought at her. "What have you done? My Sister! I have to get back." "I'm sorry." the girl replied. "I can tell that you're trying to speak but I've never mastered the language of your people." "What have you done girl." Aradhelon hated the common tongue of humans but he spoke it fluently, as befitted his station. "Take me back" "That I cannot do. I'm truly sorry. My Lord commanded that I fetch you for it was not your time to die." "And my Sister?" "She was not mine to save, I'm truly sorry." The girl smiled apologetically. "It was, perhaps, her time." "We need to go back now!" Aradhelon practically spat the words at her. "That thing wasn't alive, I felt it draining her soul. I don't know if she can even return to the Goddess." "You have much to learn young prince." The girl smiled again and Aradhelon felt his fear and anger subsiding, recognising dweomer even while being unable to resist it. "Young!" He sneered, trying to summon more anger than he now felt. "I've watched plenty like you live and die already." "None like me, Prince of the Trees. I have been here, will be here, for a very long time." She laughed at her own words. "Although time here doesn't really mean anything. Tell me please, what do you see, I cannot guide you otherwise?" "You ask nonsense questions girl. I see a tree of course, how can you not." "The tree, of course. I was hoping you might have seen more but the tree is good." she smiled again, and once more Aradhelon felt his anger flowing away, unable to resist the warmth of her smile as his mind slipped away.

His time with Jeannette, as he came to know the girl in the tree, passed as though in a trance and, looking back, he struggled to focus on any one element, like trying to recall a dream that was already slipping away. She healed his wounds, even his severed fingers, with little more than a few words of prayer, until only a change in the colour of the skin marked where his digits had been severed. Even as much of his time with Jeannette faded into dream memory there was one encounter that he recalled with absolute clarity.

"The Great Creator, the one true God, needs you Aradhelon," Jeannette explained, "he has called you to his service, alone amongst all the children of Karmana. He who gave life to the Gods themselves, Father to Treddar, the lost one, Malada, the hidden one, and others whose names you have yet to learn. It was he who created Karmana and gave her life, he who granted her the power to create life herself, the only being so gifted in all the universe save the Creator himself."

"You must free his beloved daughter from Treddar's dominion. Bring life and freedom back to Karmana and our Lord will guide your steps as long as you remain on this true path. I know you have already seen the healing power that comes from prayers to Karmana but turn your prayers instead to our Lord, the one true Creator and you will achieve feats of wonder of which you have only dreamed. I will show you the way. But know this, he does not think like you or I. The Creator sees everything, everywhere but to him time has no meaning. He sees the beginning of all things and the end of all things but to him both have happened, are happening and are yet to happen. Only by using the rituals that I teach you will you bring his focus and his power to the time and place that you need them."

They had spent many days, or perhaps only hours, or was it weeks, or even years, in meditation and prayer together as Jeannette taught him the rituals of worship to summon the power of this new God, nameless save only for his title, the Creator. Many of the forms he recognised from his life of praying to Karmana and yet it was as though he was only now learning the true prayers, from which all others had derived.

Finally, the day came when Jeannette led Aradhelon down a branch of which he had no memory, reaching an apparently arbitrary point, she stopped with a satisfied smile and reached forward to open a door that appeared only as she gripped the handle.

"Help the little one Archarnion, bringer of justice." It was the first time she had ever given him a direct command, and the authority in her voice belied her slight appearance. "Avenge his people and relight Karmana's Forge with the power of the creator. Only that way can you hope to save those you love."

Stepping obediently through the doorway, with no power to resist, Aradhelon found himself on a grassy plateau, dominated by a stone obelisk. He immediately recognized one of the bones of Karmana, the mysterious pillars of natural stone that could be found at various seemingly random points across the world. All the children of Karmana knew that they were the holiest places in the world and the only point where you could truly feel close to the Mother Goddess.

One of the Elvrahum knelt, apparently in prayer, and somebody who looked like a human but felt like a child of Karmana, was directly in front of the obelisk on his knees. As soon as he stepped onto the grass, the door closed behind him. Immediately, the fog was lifted from his thoughts and the memories of his sister in the embrace of the wraith came crashing back. An Imperial Legion filled with soldiers who appeared human but were not, apparently in league with some nameless dark power, led by Andivas the butcher and aided by a human wizard unlike any he had ever encountered. All were within striking distance of the Great Forest and his family and had already taken his sister. Before he even remembered that it wasn't there, he reached for his sword, his hand closing on the hilt. The reassuring presence of a bow on his back and his hunting pack on his shoulders brought calm to his thoughts as he contemplated the two strangers in front of him.