 
Click Here Return to Home Page Read First Chapter Castledance - Vol 1 - Odeledan Odeledan, the Exalted One of the High Order of the Judges of Light, seated in his favorite overstuffed chair by the window, was watching the eternal pursuits of spring. Contrary to the budding to life outside his window, the old elf felt every minim of his nearly two thousand annums this morning. He drew in a breath of air from the morning's refreshing, light rain and sighed deeply. He deliberately prolonged the sigh because he knew his elffarn, Kisra, was at the moment outside the castle. No doubt she was instructing their newest apprentice on the correct manner in which to clean linens to a snowy whiteness. Therefore, she would not be questioning the reason behind the sigh. Often he did share what was troubling him with Kisra. Her compassion and insights were invaluable, but this time . . . Odeledan felt ancient. He had been the Exalted One of Fentressen for over eight hundred annums. His talent and ability had been instrumental in the defeat of Dominic during the great conflict five hundred annums past. He had also subdued others before Dominic. Kisra often told him that his wisdom and power were as deep as the gentleness in his eyes. He didn't know about that, but he did know that he was beginning to wear out. In time all elves show age. His once bright flaxen hair was now streaked, and his eyesight was somewhat dimmed. Once flawless skin was beginning to wrinkle, and his joints felt rusty in the dawn. Though he didn't credit it, kindliness, integrity, and power rested upon him like his own skin. He emanated the holiness of his office, and not only because of his ability with auras and other talents. Putting off his usual farseeing, his eyes took in the sights nearer home. The flits were busily building their nests in the trees outside his window. For some time he had watched them carry the bits of bright thread to their nest. Kisra tantalized them with remnants from her sewing basket hung over the sills in their rooms in the tower. One brave male, brilliantly plumed in bright blue dared to hop on the sill and watch him, head cocked, as if to say, "Will you not give me more?" "You know nothing of the trouble ahead, do you my bright friend?" Odeledan stretched his senses outward to his surroundings as he had so many times before. He became one with the blue flit, "Newgreen for you is a time for family, ripe berries, bright string, and juicy worms. At least the animal kingdom will be spared" he said to himself. "Not so," the flit chirruped, "this blackness penetrates the forests and glens, marshes and glades. I have moved my mate here to the last bastion of security before the darkness comes. We will fight with you when all other hope is gone." "Know you more of these tidings, wise flit? "Only that people from many lands walk the roads to Fentressen. I know of the migration of all animals to deeper burrows, higher ground and denser forests than is their wont. Look you, the trees of Fentressen are filled with my kin. Others have departed to new lands seeking safety." Odeledan looked deeper with his special sight and saw that it was so. The trees of Fentressen were filled with mating flits. The species were grouped together: wrens and sparrows, doves and redfires. Where before one nest would occupy a tree, many such feathered domices nestled in the branches. "I beg a boon. Will you fly over the lands and bring me word from far
and near? Ask your kin, tell me what form this blackness
takes?" This calming reminder of the Balance brought peace to Odeledan's troubled heart. Closing his eyes and allowing all doubts and fears to expel themselves along with his breath, he withdrew from the state of awareness. He heard a querying chirp, and when he again opened his eyes, the flit was gone. He could see him in the higher branches visiting his mate, chirping a melodious song as she lay the shiny red string he brought her in a nesting configuration. Staring eastward into the greening land beyond the shores of the lake, Odeledan opened his vision once again. Looking beyond human kind, he, too, saw the animals seeking denser dens, building thicker nests, deeper burrows. The Guardians gave animals sight beyond that of people kind. He saw deer, elk, and other antlered ones grazing on the rocky heights. Abruptly his far seeing focused on the road and he saw from afar a traveler. He wore one of the deep blue robes hemmed in embroidered sigils of gold, a robe in caricature of his own midnight blue official robe of office. He wore the robe of a Sorcerer of the Dark from Pentagess. The traveler was coming to Fentressen to see him. He wore his power like a crown. He rode alone, without fear. Odeledan saw others scurry to widen his path. Gently he probed to find a reason, or purpose for this visit, but the Dark One was heavily shielded. His face Odeledan easily recognized. What was an heir of the ruling family of Fareandar doing in the robes of the Dark? The aura of the traveler was the color of determination, tinged with concern. Was it a puzzle, a threat, or an omen to see a Sorcerer approaching the gates of the Judges of Light? Again he sighed, and the heaviness returned to his spirit. The puzzle would have to wait. Settling back in his chair, he dutifully sent his sight along the far roads, and could see clearly all those coming to the Judgement Seat. From all over Tornedan, and beyond, they were seeking Fentressen for advice and aid. Representatives of all the peoples of Furth were arriving, and he knew not what he should tell them. Odeledan had hoped to retire from his holy office with a record unsullied and peaceful. He had served a long time, and was ready to transfer his mantle to a younger High One. It was not to be, it appeared. The emanations he received of late, his fireseeing and visions, portended evil for the land. He saw atrocities practiced on the peoples of Furth, and suffering untold. All signs pointed to a sorcerer rising once again to wreak devastation upon the land, and his heart was grieved. Surely it could not be this young scion of a noble house he had befriended in the elffin's younger days. As their Prophet, soon, he would have to prophesy to the people of the great and utter chaos ahead. It would be his responsibility to warn and prepare them. Unfortunately, it was also his burden to stop it if he could. He sighed again and thought, Another war. I am too old. Perhaps I should retire and allow another to deal . . . No, it would not be just. I am the one given the vision of the furtive poison penetrating the land. It may be my final obligation to see it wiped from Furth before I step aside in death or retirement. He could not step back from his duty, nor transfer it to another. He rose from his chair, and knelt by the window gazing into the blue, softly clouded sky. He sent his petition to the Godhead to give him strength and wisdom in the days ahead. Feeling fortified, he went in search of a scribe. There were preparations to be made. He would need to carefully select those he could most trust to seek out this malignancy. He made preparations to travel across the lake into the town named for the castle of Fentressen where the Judges of Light resided. Back in his rooms at the castle, he relaxed as his elffarn Kisra tended to his evening meal. He had just returned from the main offices of the school across the water where he had listened gravely to all his Judges of Light would tell him of their choice for his successor. It appeared that the judges favored those very ones he considered. Odeledan mused over his choices. Iconedan, the elven High One, is certainly the oldest and most experienced of them. He has acquired quite a following among the judges, fledges and others of the High Ones. His recent marriage to Rodaredama, also a High One, though unexpected, was a plus. The two of them could be good for Fentressen. Rodaredama, with her gentleness, tended to soften Iconedan's more bombastic tendencies. A picture filled Odeledan's mind of the more than handsome elffon. His gilt hair and clear blue eyes set many of the younger fledges hearts to fluttering. He seemed to disdain them all, then suddenly he had married Rodar. Curious. Another contender, though she disdained to contend, was Adarlaedama. Her sunny golden hair rioted in curls about a serious, yet beautiful face. Her violet blue eyes could see deep into the heart of everyone she looked upon. She is perhaps the most powerful of all the High Ones. Certainly she has the most knowledge. Her following is equal or greater than that of Iconedan's. Perfect as she was, the Exalted One hesitated appointing her, as he has no mate, but that is not her failing. He knew that Adarla harbored pain locked away inside. If she would open her heart to free it she would be softer, gentler. Since the death of her betrothed during the war with Dominic no one touched her heart though many had tried. I wonder if this might not be a flaw? Even so, I cannot imagine anyone who is equal to her's. If I choose Inghamedan, the human High One, he is not mated either, but he is happy. Humans do not live as long as elves, or delves, but the Guardians would grant him longer life if the mantle falls upon him. His mind and heart are focused on the good of Fentressen. He will easily expand it to encompass Furth. Odeledan considered his other contenders. In his heart he knew he was grooming the young undant, Vidomedan for the future, his power and compassion were immense. Vidom is too young for leadership yet. Comeseeovermountainedan, bless the troll for allowing us to call him Comsedan, is as charming and wise a troll as any who ever served as a High One. He would bring to the office the strength of the rock he chooses for his home. I know in our private interview he declined to be a contender and rather offered his support of Adarla whom he clearly loves, if only . . . Odeledan sighed, and finished the list of contenders with Fivnedama, the delf, an aura reader like himself who could bring peace to any gathering given the opportunity. One of the six races of Furth was not represented, that of gnomes. Few gnomes found their way to Fentressen to study. They had only two gnome High Ones. Wicki was staunchly a devotee of Adarla, and Gitot was as adamant for Icon, both were too outspoken and untamed to be a leader however invaluable to the council as a whole. The Guardians would not guide him in his choice. Long he prayed and sought, but the decision was being left to him, and possibly it was because of the evil stirring that all would be tested for a clear leader to stand forth. Soon he would call a gathering of the High Ones, and inform them of the times to come, but first he would see which, if any of them, would see the signs for themselves. This will be a bitter proving ground for my chosen successor. He had done everything in his power for now, preparing the way for the Dark Sorcerer his senses told him was to play some vital part, and reading the signs. It wasn't like before with Dominic. Somewhere was a catalyst who would set the events in motion. Perhaps it was this unexpected Sorcerer of the Dark traveling openly along the road from Pentagess. Intruding into his musings slid that sweet invasive force that preceded a vision from the Godhead. Opening his mind to it, he slumped against his chair. Before him, hurtling down a mountain side, appeared a young delf. He knew him! He was a former student at Fentressen. Odeledan had coveted him for a Judge of Light. What was his name? Ah yes, he recalled this delf had chosen to become a healer instead. Did seeing him in vision mean there would be a great need for healing. Was he somehow tied to the Dark Sorcerer? When his worry obscured his vision, Odeledan once again relaxed completely and let the scene take him. His next lingering vision was as through he was looking through an elven glass. The delf was walking around a high wall of rock. Odeledan's breath caught, a fortress in the Lowcragi? The aura about the fortress was black with evil. Suddenly a new scene flashed before him, a single fortress, then in rapid succession another and another, none of them alike except for that black evil surrounding them. Five fortresses in all, and not a one of them was Pentagess, the home of the Dark Sorcerers. Lastly, he saw Upso, the High Elf Lord, sword fighting inside the walls of the trollian fortress. What could it mean? The Exalted One came out of his vision with a palpitating heart. Fearing the worst he sank into meditation to help the vision's meaning became more clear. Odeledan, withdrawing from deep meditation was relieved. There was yet time, and he would wait for events to unfold. Furth's saviors were coming. He made a sign of humble gratitude and said aloud, "I thank Thee for guidance." Neither the Godhead nor the Guardians had forsaken them.
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