Post by Angmor on Sept 28, 2011 14:58:23 GMT -5
In Vaoris' experience, The Guarding Forest was always an unnaturally pleasant place in regards to weather. Since arriving in Ellesmera, he had been just in time to watch autumn set in, changing the leaves to a spectacular array of colors that rippled gently in the breezes from the west. At least, it had been spectacular for the first few days. After every day remained pretty much the same, Vaoris had lost his wonder. Now, it seemed that nature had finally made an exception for one of the most dreary nights he had ever seen. Vaoris peered out, his breath fogging the carriage window. The misting rain pattered against the glass, leaving small rivulets that ran slantwise with the motion of the carriage and obscured his view. Not that there was much to see, anyway. Above the tree canopy, the rainstorm had swallowed the moon and stars, leaving the forest through which he traveled choked by a heavy darkness that almost seemed cold to the touch. Dark, and oddly still. Waiting.[/blockquote]
Drawing his cloak tighter around himself, Vaoris shivered. It had nothing to do with the temperature.
Days before, Valance Halrond had announced to the elven race that he had made an astounding breakthrough in the study of magic, one that might sweep away some of the old rules and usher in a whole new field. After that superlative revelation, he promptly invited many of the most influential members of the magical community, as well as select elven nobility, to his estate outside of Nadindel for a special demonstration. Also, wishing that the event be properly documented, Halrond had also sent a personal appeal to the Grand Library that a scholar would also attend. Having already dispatched Vaoris and master Gyvar to Ellesmera to study a collection of documents recovered on the battlefields of the Blue Divide, the Library had forwarded the request to them. And master Gyvar, with a combination of skepticism at Halrond's announcement and annoyance at the prospect of interruption to his research, had conferred the dubious honor of the assignment to the apprentice. For his part, Vaoris was also skeptical, and also strangely fearful. Ever since the announcement, he had been dealing with a strange twisting sensation in the pit of his stomach, a nameless dread that he could not pinpoint. But it was enough for him to know that he did not wish to go. However, no one had asked him his opinion, so here he was, on the appointed day, on the way to Halrond's estate.
It could be worse, He told himself sullenly, settling back into the leather bench. At least Halrond sent his personal carriage for you, or you would have to walk in this weather.
It was meeting with the carriage that had told him it was to be a very posh and formal affair. Fine clothes, fine food, fine wine. Inevitable, considering the guest list. Apparently, even the countess of Nadindel had been invited. Luckily, Vaoris had worn his best clothes; dark gray tunic and pants, embroidered with silver thread at the seams, worn under the lighter grey of his scholar's robe. Now he was wishing he had worn something warmer, something better capable of dealing with the bite in the air.
To distract himself from his discomfort, Vaoris occupied himself going over what he knew about his soon-to-be host. It wasn't hard. The name of Halrond, after all, was a legend among elven magic-users. Valance was the son of the older Jamas Halrond, a mage famed for many arcane discoveries. Jamas had provided the definitive guide for relationship between consumption of energy and distance, irrefutable proof against the concept of magic beyond death, as well as other more secretive concepts that were taught only to the most advanced students. Many considered him to be one of the founders of modern magical practice, until he finally died of one of his own spells. His son Valance, however, was much less well-known. While he was a respected mage, especially for his relative youth, and had inherited the family wealth and estate with all of his father's research and notes, he had never reached quite the same heights as his father. And most agreed that he probably never would. How could the son ever quite measure up to a legendary father? Now, it seemed the younger Halrond was going to attempt proving his critics wrong. For himself, Vaoris rather hoped he would succeed. After all, he could relate with the concept of being thought inferior because of his youth. He was a perfectly competent scholar, but the fact that he had not even seen out his first millennium put him at a disadvantage in his field. Which is why his unnamed fear of what he was about to see felt so odd. If Valance Halrond had succeeded, perhaps the pervading attitude toward younger elves would diminish somewhat. So why was he so uneasy about this?
As these thoughts tumbled through his mind, he noticed with a start that the carriage was slowing to a stop. Glancing out, he found himself looking up at the Halrond manor house, its windows so ablaze with light it looked like an elaborate lantern amid the blackness. In proportions and architecture, it looked about like any building made by the elves. Flowing, rounded, sung from the living trees that surrounded it. And yet, even from where he sat, Vaoris could sense that it was a house of magic, like a pressure behind his eyes. As he took in the details, the carriage door was opened by a young elf in servant's garb. Shaking himself from his thoughts, Vaoris climbed out, surprised at the servant?s respectful bow. For the first time, he realized that he was going to be the only representative of the Grand Library present. For once, he was not under the wing of a master, just there to run errands and be useful. Squaring his shoulders, he resolved that he would act like it. As he made his way to the doors, he saw several other carriages standing to the side, many of them emblazoned with a crest of some important house or family. The faint glow of other carriage lanterns could be seen down the path, laboring up the track toward the manor. The Halrond estate, Vaoris had learned, was separated from the city by the distance of several miles, quite removed and very private. Jamas had liked his privacy, and his room to work. As Vaoris started toward the manor doors, he realized with a start that he was dry. Looking up, he found the rain repelled and redirected, as if the water was hitting an invisible roof. It was then that he noticed two more servants partially concealed on either side of the courtyard, arms raised, presumably maintaining a spell of warding against the rain. Vaoris frowned. It seemed to him to be a spectacular waste of energy just to keep arriving guests dry. But mages were mages. As he approached the doors, they swung open on silent hinges, admitting him to a brightly lit entrance hall. The lamps, he noticed, were not torches, but rather golden erisdar lanterns, globes of energy encased in glass. The floor beneath his dark leather shoes were of polished tile, reflecting the light in such a way that he seemed to be walking on light.
"May I take your cloak, finiriel?"
Vaoris jumped, startled by the voice from behind him. Turning, he found himself being addressed by another servant, this one a young woman about his own age. Already embarrassed, he handed her is damp cloak. "Thank you."
Despite his obvious discomfort, she smiled sweetly. "The great hall is just ahead. Look for the lights." With that she turned and disappeared into a side room.
Get a hold of yourself, Vaoris berated himself, turning to the door she had indicated. You're going to have to stop jumping at shadows.
At the entrance to the hall, he could hear strains of music floating through the rooms. He hadn't thought it possible to outdo the entrance foyer in illumination, but the great hall had done just that, shining out in seeming defiance of the rainy night outside. Distracted with the sight, Vaoris almost didn't notice another servant standing beside the doors, this one much older than the others.
"Your name, sir?" He asked, his voice droning politeness.
"Vaoris. I'm here representing the Grand Library, as Master Halrond requested."
The servant nodded sagely. "Yes, of course. The master was just fretting that you wouldn't arrive. I hope you have brought sufficient means to record this event?"
Vaoris was conscious of the weight tucked securely in the wide sleeve of his robe; a blank journal and writing set.
"Yes, I am."
?Good. Then please, step inside. The food is on the right hand side.?
Nodding, Vaoris did as he was told, stepping into the great hall.
The light and music washed over him like a wave. Glancing around, he found the whole room to be occupied by elves in grand clothes, exuding power and presence as they stood in scattered groups, talking perfunctorily with one another. With dismay, Vaoris found that the level of his own dress looked more like the servants that bustled between the groups, serving drinks. Master Halrond was nowhere to be seen. With a sigh, Vaoris stepped forward, unsure of what to do. He was nowhere near the station of anyone who stood here, and most would take unkindly to him hovering at that background taking notes.
Just find somewhere off to the side and wait it out, He told himself. It?s going to be a very long night.
