The Elf Messiah - Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Leading the defense of the retreating Illuminar, Brinn noted how the goblins and wolf-riders pursuing them struggled in the re-growing tangle of evil trees. What had blocked the Illuminar’s retreat moments ago was now an obstacle to their adversaries. Only the winged gargoyles above them moved unhindered, though they may have preferred the trees below to the unending barrage of arrows from the Illuminar troops on the ground.

“Find Commander R’ille!” Brinn ordered a soldier. “She leads our people behind the pillar of fire. Find her and tell her that the enemy’s pursuit has stalled.”

Brinn watched the soldier depart, and then mentally kicked himself. He forgot R’ille had the use of her Kalláh. She could simply ask it to tell of Brinn’s progress and the answer would instantly come. She already knew what he had just sent a soldier to tell. Brinn simply shook his head with a laugh and went back to fighting.

R’ille led her people westward at a pace no mortal could have ever endured, covering ground in three days that would have taken the Avanyar three weeks to cross. The majestic draft horses that pulled their wagons were unable to match the pace, and the Illuminar turned them loose into the wild woods, abandoned the wagons, and carried their stores on their backs. They passed far beyond the western borders of their realm and into a land seldom explored. three

Brinn’s division backed its way through the forest protecting the rear flank as the Illuminar journeyed westward. Their losses continued to mount, but protecting a single rear flank was far easier than defending three different sides. Retreating through the trees, Brinn devised an effective strategy. Scores of Illuminar would stand and fight, then swiftly fall back past a line of fresh troops that formed at their rear. In this way Brinn’s troops found some rest between engagements while the hordes of the Demon Lord pursuing them were constantly pressed.

Though Brinn’s losses were grave, the evil hordes suffered far worse. Almost all of the gargoyles were lost to the arrows of the Illuminar. Three Nil'Ganash were down, the others driven high into the air where they wheeled about, staying well out of range while trying to find a weakness in the line that retreated westward. One Nil’Ganash flew far ahead of the retreating Illuminar and was not seen again.

The thunderstorms had ended at sunset of the third day, replaced by a steady rain that kept the Illuminar wet but did little to slow their progress. They were able to find some respite from the rain by walking in the heat of the flaming whirlwind that led them westward through the thick tangled growth of fir, oak and vine. The heat of the fiery pillar served to dry, if only for awhile, the wet clothes of the Illuminar host.

On the dawn of the fourth day of leading her people behind the pillar of flame, R’ille noticed the rain clouds overhead beginning to dissipate. Almost immediately, the fiery pillar began also to lessen in size. She thought it was because of the diminishing rain clouds, but as the firestorm burned itself out, R’ille saw the real reason for the fire’s demise. The forest the fire fed upon was ending.

As she led the Illuminar out of the forest, R’ille came to a narrow strip of short grass that ran from the woodland’s edge right up to the rim of a vast precipice that stretched north and south to both horizons. It was as if she had come to the very edge of the world. Crossing the golden grass, R’ille walked to the edge and looked down into depths that were lost to shadow. As she looked out across the yawning gulf, Tiela rose behind her, and the growing light of the sun moved slowly across the void until, at last, its fingers reached out to something that appeared as if by magic. Opaque light fell upon distant crags that materialized out of nothing, rising out of the shadowy void.

Illianor. Sanctuary.

““Behold; the strait of Illianor!” R’ille said as she turned to the masses of Illuminar gathered around her at the edge of the chasm. This was where she had been leading them.

“We are trapped!”

It was Lorelai. “First we are pinned against the walled forest, and now you drive us to the edge of a sheer cliff! What will come next?” She pointed to the distant crags, growing in the light of the sun. “If that is Illianor glimmering in the distance, it must be at least 3 leagues away. We have no ladders to descend to the bottoms of these cliffs, and no boats to cross the strait—”

“Lorelai,” R’ille interrupted. “Why won’t you have faith? Do you think Ár-Ádun would bring us this far just to abandon us?” R’ille tried to reassure Lorelai, but her own faith was shaken by the immense view. She had never before actually seen the cliffs where they now stood, nor seen Illianor itself. Now that she was witnessing for the first time the immensity and sheer depth of the strait of Illianor, she understood Lorelai’s frustration. Everyone knew the sailor’s tales of old describing the un-climbable cliffs that lined the strait of Illianor. R’ille saw that they would be unable to descend the cliffs where they now stood, and guessed that they would be unable to climb those on the other side leading to the top of the island of Illianor, across the strait.

“You ask us to have faith,” Lorelai said, trying to sound as if she spoke for those around her. “You ask us to have faith in a Creator that has allowed us to be driven to the brink of extinction? I’m tired of placing my faith in empty promises. Do you all not agree with me?” Lorelai turned, hoping the gathering Illuminar were rallying to her. They weren’t. They stood silent, apprehensive, as if standing at a crossroads and unsure of which way to turn. They looked first at R’ille, then back at Lorelai. The crowd remained silent.

“What would you have us do?” R’ille asked Lorelai. “If I am wrong, what other option do we have? Turn back? Turn back and die for certain?”

The crowd looked at Lorelai, but she had no answer. Her lower lip quivered, sucking the venom from her angry eyes. “Bah!” she spat in frustration, and stormed off into the crowd, who turned its focus back to R’ille.

“Let us rest, she said to those gathered. Rest, while I think of a plan.” She turned away from the crowd and looked out over the void.

The crowd began to disperse after several minutes when R’ille offered nothing more. They set up camp on the edge of the cliffs and held their breath while R’ille tried to figure out their next move. She just stood in silence, alone with her thoughts.

How would they now get across, she wondered? After following the tornado of fire in a pouring rain for three days and nights, R’ille had hoped for more than to be confronted by an impassable chasm. Her faith was beginning to weaken. Had she done the right thing?

“Take some food,” a warrior said, handing her some dried fruit and a strip of roasted bison meat. It was Dártan, fresh from Brinn’s side to report on the battle lines to the east. He paused to get a bite as well before returning to the fighting.

R’ille chewed in silence as she thought back about how she and the Illuminar had come to this place. “We cannot escape the fact that the Demon Lord has slain our king and escaped captivity to begin this genocidal attack upon us,” she said at last. Dártan just nodded and let her speak. “When our land was overrun, it was I who convinced the people that our only hope of survival lay in leaving our homelands. It was I who implore that we must retreat to a place free from the reach of the minions of the Demon Lord. It was I who convinced everyone that Illianor was to be that place; that Illianor was to become our Sanctuary. Was I wrong? Am I a fool?”

“No, mi’lady. I do not think you are a fool.” Dártan looked at her directly. “Your husband is a loyal friend, and the most cunning soldier I have ever known. The light of Varnn shines in his eyes, and he has always known the favor of Ár-Ádun. Thus, I do not think it was by folly or chance that he chose you to marry those many years ago. How I rejoiced when the two of you were united. Brinn chose wisely then, and I choose wisely now. I choose to follow you, mi’lady.”

R’ille took Dártan’s hand in gratitude. “Oh how I wish Brinn were here now. My doubt clouds my judgment.”

“Do not doubt mi’lady. Your Kalláh has revealed the Creator’s promise of a sanctuary free from the pain and suffering of the Demon Lord, and you have shared this promise with our people.”

R’ille looked unconvinced.

“The rest of us lost the gift of the Kalláh long ago; everyone except you. Yet, still we remember its power and truth. You have given us something to hope for. The people believe in you. You revealed Ár-Ádun’s promise of sanctuary, and that we would find it on Illianor. So we have followed. And we follow you still.”

“Thank you, Dártan. Your words bring comfort.” She was silent for a time. “I know you must return to the battle,” she said finally. “I send you with words of love and comfort for my beloved Brinn. Will you tell him my thoughts are of him?”

“I most certainly will, although he knows it already!” Dártan laughed, and he departed from R’ille. The Illuminar leader turned back to the chasm before her and thought about what had led them here.

At the fall of her brother the king, the Illuminar had begun the retreat westward. A few among them had protested, Lorelai being their chief. Their first plan had been to head toward the quays of Aqualondë to board ships for Illianor, but that direction had been cut off by the three-pronged attack of the Demon Lord. His forces had attacked Aqualondë from the sea, while at the same time swarming out of the southern Hotlands and charging from the east down the passes of the Iron Teeth Mountains. The Illuminar had been forced to retreat northwestward, which was in fact almost a direct line toward Illianor, but there was the matter of the Illianor Strait.

During their flight, the Illuminar had spent most of their time just trying to survive the journey, leaving little time for discussion about how they would cross the strait when they reached it. In fact, R’ille had deliberately avoided that question. It had been enough to figure out how to survive the evil swarm that had driven them from their realm.

Some had doubted the plan to flee to Illianor, R’ille knew, but in the end it had been the only direction they could go. And so they had headed, or been driven, it now seemed, toward the Strait of Illianor and the mysterious, unexplored island beyond.

R’ille looked at the deep chasm before her and thought about the history she knew of this place: The Strait of Illianor. Illuminar sailors had long ago discovered these sheer cliffs lining the northwest edge of their realm, along with the island that had split apart from the land and had drifted over the course of millennia to lay now three leagues off the coast. R’ille knew the stories of Illianor. Sailing completely around her had taken over a week, they said, yet no cove or beach existed where they could set foot upon the island. On every side they had discovered the same sheer walls as were on the mainland. Like the cliffs where R’ille stood, it was said that the sides of the island reached straight up for almost six thousand feet, and from that time until now no Illuminar had found a way to scale those walls. What lay on the top was a mystery. The ancient sailors had named her Illianor, which meant “like heaven”, for it was a sanctuary untouched.

R’ille knelt, eyes closed, and in her mind searched through the sailor’s legends for clues to solve their dilemma.

You must use Illinzor!

Her concentration was broken moments later by the arguing of a large group. All around her, Illuminar had begun shouting and arguing about what their next move should be. They, too, knew the legend of Illianor and its un-climbable cliffs, though few had ever actually seen them. Now they were here, having come through the forest to stand at what seemed like the edge of the world. Some of the Illuminar were starting to doubt R’ille’s plan. Like R’ille, they were looking across an impassable chasm to a mysterious and unknown land where tall white peaks jutting upward from a distant haze were the only feature that could be glimpsed. As she listened, R’ille understood that many were beginning to feel reluctant about leaving their beloved land behind. Their reluctance was buoyed by the fact that it didn’t appear that leaving was an option anyway; they saw no way across the chasm.

R’ille remained silent for now while the elders continued to argue their options. Illuminar children milled about playing games, oblivious to the crisis looming before them all. Several of the youngest picked up pieces of quartz from the edge of a crystal outcropping that jutted out over the chasm. The children threw the shards out into the void and waited for them to hit the ocean. They heard no splashes in return.

“What of the Avanyar, our allies and friends?” some among the adults wondered, arguing against attempting the impossible crossing. “Do we flee our realm and leave the mortal ones behind to face the wrath of the Demon Lord alone?”

“How do we cross?” others questioned.

“If only we had the Corrinnan, the winged horses!” several lamented.

The land beyond is a sanctuary. If you wish to leave this land and flee, you must use the enemy’s weapons. Using Illinzor will allow you to cross. Illinzor will bring Illianor within your reach.

R’ille took out the green wand of Earth and studied it. Strange runes littered its surface, but she didn’t know what her Kalláh meant. She finally spoke, trying to calm the group. “We must trust in the Creator’s plan. Ár-Ádun will show us a way. Beyond lays Illianor. My Kalláh tells me it is to be our sanctuary. A way across will be revealed! This is our key!” She held up Illinzor. Many scoffed. Her words were of little help. The arguing continued, and the Illuminar were unaware that the Demon Lord was about to spring his final trap.