A Song of Summer Winds Ch. 03

This certainly is a long time in coming…and does not really follow the same suit as the two chapters already posted. Hopefully, it is more interesting now. If you like this story, and want to see more, then please tell me (because, at this point, I cant tell if it is pure rubbish or not). Thank you, and enjoy.

-Thoros

Very little is known about Ellasaria the witch's ancestry and past.

Her descent has been traced to the northern Dymarian mountain ranges, where she is thought to have been the only daughter of a minor mountain lord. It is known that she was a mix blood, part elf but mostly human.

Despite her predominantly human heritage, Ellasaria had elfish powers that no one had seen the likes of for ages. Like pureblood elves of old, Ellasaria was capable of activating her devastating powers without the complicated spells and rituals used by contemporary human sorcerers.

It is rumored that in her formative years, she was reared among the elves themselves, instructed by them in the various forms of magic and sorcery. She was a natural adept and could easily channel great amounts of energy, surpassing the wildest expectations of all her instructors.

Her thirst for power, however, became too great. For longevity of life and augmentation of her magicks, she sacrificed her conscience and her soul.

She had turned into the ultimate enemy--The Saenalse--or in old elfish, an insatiable consumer of souls. The elves washed their hands of their failed student and turned her away from their halls in the eastern isles. In their eyes, Ellasaria was not elfish enough; she had allowed her human lust for power to take control of her.

For centuries, she survived and continued to increase her inhuman powers by consuming the souls of countless hapless men that became ensnared by her bewitching song. By the time she found the unsuspecting Myles Kelg and plotted the destruction of Houses Oakheart and Taligari, she had already lost all vestiges of her human identity.

Ellasaria lives in the void, soulless and completely aware of her inhuman form. No matter how many souls she devours, she will never recover her lost essence. Her only hope is to find another with as vital a spirit as her. Another life-force that resonates in tune with her own.

Unfortunately for Alyn of House Oakheart, her search has ended and her gaze is now set fixedly on him. Like a wave of locusts, her armies sweep northward, consuming and destroying all in their paths, inexorably searching for Alyn.

******

The dreams persisted...only now they grew more persistent and real. Visions of her intruded on his every moment, whether waking or sleeping.

He felt he was losing his mind and tried to convince himself that he had gone mad...but something about her piercing blue eyes and honey-sweet voice in his visions seemed so potent. He could sometimes sense her consciousness lurking just underneath his awareness, probing his mind.

He brushed aside his thoughts, turning instead to the current problem of escaping Kelg's hunters and reaching his Uncle's protection. Kelg's bounty hunters were even now combing the forests and mountain ranges across the land for any trace of Prince Alyn Oakheart and Alysane Taligari.

Even worst, from the few times that Alyn and Alysane had risked to venture into populated villages and towns, they learned that Kelg was creating a new invasion force to march against the northern kingdoms.

The lands of man were ruled by two great houses and an assortment of smaller lords in the northern reaches. In the south, Houses Taligari and Oakheart had dominated militarily for several centuries. The north had remained safe because all of Taligari and Oakheart strength was vested against one another. But now, all had changed. A single unified south was marching north, and years of peace left the defenders incapable of fending for themselves.

Travel during the daytime had become impossible due to the danger of being sighted by enemy scouts.

Men wearing the Hawk sigil of Kelg patrolled the major roads regularly, forcing Alyn and Alysane to travel the roughly cut and hewn mountain trails. Their progress was slow and with each day, the chances they would be caught increased tenfold.

Alyn froze and immediately signaled to Alysane to stop as he thought he heard something in the distance.

He was not mistaken, far off, Alyn discerned the presence of another hunting party.

Their torches illuminated well the tell-tale black banner with burning red hawk they carried as well as the red gilded black armor that each of the men wore.

At the moment, they were safe from detection, hidden well by their relative altitude and tree coverage.

Even still, the proximity of these headhunters made Alyn very uneasy.

These had once been lands protected by his uncle's guard.

Even the night now seemed a perilous time to travel. They had no choice but to press on and hope that they were not detected.

******

Tension and the sense of impending doom thickened the air about them. Alyn had seemed to close himself off to her several days earlier.

His responses and summons to her were limited to a series of grunts and hand gestures. He seemed to be in a trancelike state, unaware of her, focusing solely on some unseen menace. Even when they made love, his eyes seemed glazed over, robbed of their burning purple luster. He seemed now only an empty husk of the vibrant youth he was merely two weeks earlier.

Suddenly, he stopped, signaling sharply with his right hand for her to do the same.

His sword was halfway from its scabbard when two other horsemen stepped from the darkened shadows a hundred meters off.

They had not yet been sighted, but the proximity of these men to their location made that only a matter of time.

Another several minutes passed and it became clear that both men were alone, most likely scouts sent out from the main party, judging by their light armor and signaling equipment.

Resheathing his sword, Alyn retrieved his bow and quiver of arrows from his back. With two swift fluid movements, he buried two arrows in the gap between chest plate and helmet of the first man. He fell from his horse dead even before hitting the ground. The second man, however, reacted quickly to the new threat. Alyn's second volley arrows bounced harmlessly off of the man's now upraised shield.

With a roar of fury, the man rushed Alyn with longsword on high.

Alyn broke away from Alysane and met the man with his own sword.

Both men were violently wrenched from their steeds by the force of their collision. But, the fight did not stop their, as each soon quickly recovered.

For several minutes, Alysane could only hear the clangs of steel against steel as the two darkened figures battled in shade of the forest.

It was obvious that the man was not an enlisted soldier. He had neither the endurance nor the finely honed swordsmanship of a career soldier.

The prince on the other hand, was very much a methodical fighter. Each of his cuts drove the soldier back and away. This was a war of attrition, and the prince was not even winded. By contrast, the soldier was close to breaking point, tired and suffering from cuts along many parts of his body where the amour had been sheared off.

Realizing his opponent’s moment of weakness, the prince slashed forward with a high upward arc. The blow knocked the man's sword from his hand, jarring his wrist and likely breaking it.

The prince’s second blow followed a similar path, but was met with no resistance as it buried itself cleanly into the man's head. Wrenching the sword free, the man slumped to his knees, and then fell forward.

Alysane saw Alyn as he carefully wiped the blood and brain-matter from his blade upon the cloak of the fallen man.

A cold fury seemed to have settled upon him, something she had never witnessed before.

He caught her eyes, as he resheathed his sword.

"Come. We must continue onward."

With that, he mounted his horse and continued, notsomuch looking back at her even once.

*****

The man was tall, gaunt and looked as dangerous as a freshly sharpened blade. His grey eyes never left Alyn as he slowly brought his stallion to a halt and dismounted.

To Alyn, the man looked faintly familiar, the same aquiline features, the same grace and the same colt black hair of his mother. After all, the man was his mother's brother...or half brother at least.

"Greetings, Alyn. Welcome to the valley of your ancestors." Something seemed wrong. Alyn had rejoiced when he caught sight of the silver eagle banner and the group of men that carried it. At last, they had reached safe haven. Alyn had been even more so surprised to spot his very uncle at the head of the party.

The two groups had met at the entrance to the valley in a small clearing.

As his uncle dismounted, other men followed his uncle, each armed to the teeth with spears, swords, daggers, and darts.

"Uncle! We must talk. An army is marching from the south..."

"I know of this already, Alyn." His uncle’s voice was unnervingly calm.

Something felt wrong to the prince as his eyes met those of his uncle, fiery violet against dull grey. From what Alyn had seen, the valley was completely open. The great walls at the entrance to the valley were even now unmanned and in disrepair. The land was in no way prepared for a siege. Worse still, nobody seemed worried about the 100,000 men Kelg had sent north to hunt down and kill Alyn while conquering all that they came across.

He chose his words carefully. "Uncle, you seem ill prepared for a siege. Pray tell, how will you meet the enemy with the city defenses in this shambled state?"

His uncle smiled...almost mockingly.

"Kelg's army marches elsewhere. Kelg, lord protector of Myr and King in the south, has offered neutrality to Ullenhyre."

"Kelg will come after me!" Alyn felt dread pervading every part of his body.

"He doesn't need to." Alyn could hardly believe what he had heard. The twenty men that had by now formed a circle around him and Alysane all drew there swords at once, no longer hiding their evil intent. His uncle's voice cut through the air.

"Kelg wants the prince alive and capable. Do what you like with the girl." Immediately, the 20 odd men from Mors Kayfall's retinue began to close in on Alyn.

Thinking more on instinct than anything else, Alyn quickly dismounted, taking with him his longsword and bow and arrow. Using the flat of his sword, he smacked Alysane's horse on the flank. The horse reared up on its hind legs, and stormed forward. The two men in its way crashed to the floor as it smashed through them.

The Ullenhyre men fell upon Alyn just as Alysane and the still half crazed horse entered the thick forest.

With pure skill and strength, Alyn succeeded in fending off the first few men to assault him, but their numbers were too great.

He was captured and bound up.

******

Epilogue

The world of man changed in barely a few months. Both of the great houses in the south were toppled, and a new power emerged. Myles Kelg was supreme ruler in the south. Few would ever know that the true power behind the throne was Ellasaria, the bewitcher.

In the north, an alliance had been formed to resist the coming onslaught. The leadership of this alliance had been entrusted to the Lord Protector of Ullenhyre, Mors Kayfall. But the alliance was betrayed, at the highest of levels and Kelg's armies marched without resistance. For the first time in history, all the lands were united under the same ruler. Many were crushed under the new regime, and no man was free of his tyranny.

Alyn, last of the Oakheart line, disappeared after his capture in the valley of his uncle. His love, Alysane, escaped the clutches of the trap that had been set. But she was dying inside, sick to the heart, and no longer willing to carry on. Now she wanders, aimlessly through the forests of the middlelands...