THE ELDWARVES by Rob Clague--Chapter One Only

The Eldwarves

Rob Clague

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Prologue

The Thousand Year War was over: that great conflict had ended two hundred years previously. Peace ruled the world. Cool breezes now whistled through the leaves of willow trees, animals multiplied and populations grew. The once-terrifying sights of incredible battlefields where many thousands lay dead were just memories. The bones of the slain had long before become dust picked up by the four winds and tossed across the face of the world.

War was a strange thing, for it often makes companions of the most unlikely quarters. Such was the history of the Eldwarves.

Eldwarves in the simplest possible terms were a mixture of the Elven and Dwarven peoples. Although they are distant cousins from a common ancestor, (the records are unclear on this point) these races seldom mixed. On rare occasions they would stumble over each other in the great forest and swap the superb artisanship of the Dwarven swords for the life giving medicines developed by the Elves.

War changed that.

How the two races became one is a story of sacrifice, love and friendship. The races, allied in the centre of the world exhibiting equal heroism and bravery during the war. In the face of great danger and overwhelming odds, many fell in love and married. The war eventually ended in victory for the two races, but not before a great cost of life was exacted from both peoples. In fact, half of both populations were wiped off the face of the world.

After the fighting had finished, the Elves returned to the great city of Giantoaks and the Dwarves returned to the place of their beginning; Havenlight. This left the intermarried couples in a bewildering dilemma, for Giantoaks and Havenlight were located at opposite ends of the world. Of course, those of mixed marriages were welcome to take up residence in either city, but many were terribly unhappy to be so far away from their friends and relatives. There were many meetings, discussions, and votes until finally a great compromise was reached.

The decision was made to build a city in the centre of the world. From there, it would be only six months journey to either Giantoaks or Havenlight instead of the original twelve. Over seven hundred couples stayed to found that city. At first, the city was but a ragged collection of ramshackle huts that provided little but protection from the four seasons. After hard work and perseverance, it became a town. As people settled down to farm the surrounding hills it became and agricultural community. Two centuries later, it became a fully-fledged city with over forty thousand people in full time residence, brick houses, and flourishing trade that continues between Havenlight and Giantoaks. Although no one is sure who exactly coined the name for the place, it became known as The Halfway City.

The offspring of these mixed couples were known as Eldwarves, which is a composite of both names. They were truly beautiful beings and quite striking to the eyes, for they inherited the best of both peoples. From the Elves, they gained their slender bodies and flawless complexions. From the Dwarves, they obtained their beautiful eyes, which are no definite colour, but sparkle like diamonds and take on the colour of whatever they happen to be looking at the time. From the Dwarves, they also inherited tough, sinewy muscle. Although they are quite slender, their appearance is rather deceptive: they harbour considerable strength in proportion to their size. They are easily able to lift their own weight should the necessity to do so arise. Although their striking good looks make them seem outstanding, the talents that they possess make them unique in the world.

The Eldwarves can be divided into two separate camps known as the Watchers and the Smiths.

Watchers possess the ability to project their minds outside of their bodies. A single watcher may project his mind--or her mind for Watchers may be of either sex--to a circumference of about one league. It is said that multiple Watchers are able to combine their minds and see for far grater distances. But this remained the talk of legend, for to do so was strictly against the laws of Eldwarf society, except in war. And war was over.

Smiths were given over to the most remarkable artisanship in the shape of the swords, which they lovingly created. The completed weapons possessed the most powerful magic of any weapon ever created in the history of the world and were a source of pride to both the Watchers and the Smiths. Smiths shape each sword with heavily gloved hands. For the first person ever to touch an Eldwarf sword was both physically and spiritually bonded to the sword until the time of their death. At that time, the weapon must be melted, destroyed, and recycled, for no other could take up the ownership. No other person, gloved or not, was ever able to pick up a bonded sword without permission of the owner, lest the weapon burn their hand to the bone.

Because the swords were created with absolute love and caring, they could not be used for evil or unjust purposes. Should the owner try, the sword will remain stuck firmly in the scabbard and nothing would remove it.

The swords also had the skill to forewarn the owner when danger is approaching, for they emanated a bright blue colour from inside the metal at any oncoming menace. The owner was also able to make the sword glow this blue colour at their will should they be a dark place and have need for a lantern.

Security of the Halfway City was long ago made the responsibility of the Watchers, who patrol the city walls armed with the swords keeping an eye out for trouble. Fortunately, this

really was a symbolic effort, for never in two hundred years had there been the slightest threat to the well-being of the Halfway City. Many an Eldwarf sword, however, had been tested in battle during the many trading expeditions that run between the three cities. For many evil beings roamed the great wilderness of the world.

Lorrie Treebridge woke, blinked the sleep from his eyes, and sat up in bed. He threw his legs over the side of the cot and sat there for a moment running a hand through his hair. He stretched his arms and let out a rather large yawn followed by a wide smile that gradually spread across his face as realised what day this was. Today he would find out whether he was a Watcher or a Smith. He stood up and scanned the room for his clothes. His pants were at one side of the room and his tunic at the other. He dressed quickly, put his hair back into its usual ponytail, went to the window, drew back the curtains, slid up the glass, and breathed deeply of the cool morning air.

Lorrie's bedroom was on the second storey of his parent's abode. His bedroom looked out directly onto the bedroom window of his best friend in the world, Lymble Thornycroft. Both he and Lymble had turned seventeen years old over the last couple of months and this day was the first day of summer, a traditional Eldwarf public holiday. Today, they would undergo the "Ritual of Discovery," which would determine which talent they had inherited.

'Lymble, wake up!' called Lorrie from his window.

'Down here!' came an unexpected reply.

Lorrie looked down with some bemusement to see Lymble standing on the ground beneath him. 'It's not like you to be up so early?'

'I've been standing here for half an hour,' smiled Lymble, 'throwing pebbles at your window, trying to wake you!'

'Why didn't you just come up?'

'I couldn't eat breakfast this morning,' replied Lymble. 'I have such butterflies in my stomach and both my mother and yours would have insisted, so I took the easy way out.' He pointed at the drainpipe that ran directly down outside of his window. 'Come on, let's go,' he urged, almost frantic to get away.

Lorrie grabbed the drainpipe and slid down with a skill that betrayed the fact that he had done this many times. Both boys exchanged mock greetings and ran off toward the City Square.

The Square was abuzz with excitement and activity. The Mayor, Elder Quartz, stood upon a platform in the centre of the square rehearsing a speech that happened to be the same every year. He was all dressed in his fine mayoral attire although it would be almost four hours until the ritual commenced. Many thought that he was very full of his own importance.

The women of the town were busy with the preparations of food and dressing up the square. Colourful sashes hung from the balconies of the apartments that bordered the square. A golden rope hung where the ritual would be staged, so that the public was able to observe but not get in the way of the proceedings.

Mayoress Quartz, the elder's wife, was directing various activities simultaneously and making certain everything was perfect for the ceremony, indeed the whole day. She was really the more practical of the two.

Lorrie and Lymble wandered around the square observing all the preparations for the Ritual of Discovery with undisguised excitement and awe, although none of this was particularly new to them. Every year since their births, they had observed young men and women going through this experience the first day of summer. This time, though, the ritual had a personal meaning for Lorrie and Lymble. The preparations were being made for them, along with one hundred other Eldwarves of eligible age. This made the colourful surroundings seem more alive, more fantastically vivid than ever before.

'What would you rather be, Lorrie, a Watcher or a Smith?'

'I don't know,' shrugged Lorrie. 'They both seem terribly exciting. Anyway, it's not a choice that you get to make.'

'Me,' said Lymble, 'I'd rather be a Watcher and become a scout for a trading party. Just think of all that adventure, going off to Havenlight or Giantoaks for six months at a time.'

The two young Eldwarves just stood staring at the goings on, lost in daydreams of the money that could be made in the crafting of Blueswords or the endless adventure that one could have as a Watcher scout. A moment later they were lifted a foot above the ground by the collars of their tunics, by none other than the Mayoress Quartz. 'You two! What are you doing here? You should be at home, preparing and dressing for the ritual!'

'Yes, Mayoress,' replied Lorrie and Lymble in unison.

'Well, get on with you!' she ordered throwing the two young Eldwarves to their feet and sending them running at a furious pace.

The Mayoress watched them until they rounded the side of a building a block away. 'That happens every year,' she said to herself as she headed back to the work of supervising the preparations. Although she was a stern and practical woman, she had a heart of pure gold.

Lorrie and Lymble ran about a block from where she was and ducked down the side of a tavern building. They were both out of breath and slumped up against an alleyway wall to compose themselves. 'She's always such a cranky old bag!' said Lymble between gasps of air.

'I think she's just busy,' replied Lorrie. 'She makes all the preparations, while all the Mayor does is rehearse a speech that he already knows off by heart.'

They both burst into laughter.

'I'll tell you one thing though,' said Lorrie. 'She's right. We had better get back to bathe and dress.'

'I know,' agreed his friend. 'My mother will be going Batswings not knowing where I am.'

When they had regained their composure both boys took off at run and headed for their homes.

Lorrie entered his house by the front door. 'There you are, you little scoundrel,' said his father, Lorrie Senior. 'You had better get in there and see your mother. You know how she worries about you.' His father slipped him a friendly wink, which the son returned with a smile.

Lorrie entered the kitchen and saw his mother ironing the traditional costume for the ritual, of which the pants and belt are Dwarven and the tunic is Elven. 'Come here, Lorrie,' demanded his mother. 'I want to see how this costume measures up beside you. I just got it back from the tailor's and frankly, he is getting old and his eyes are giving out on him. So I want to be sure.'

Lorrie went to his mother who held up the bright red tunic against his torso, letting out several 'Mmmm's,' and 'Aaaah's,' as she worked. 'By the way, Lorrie,' she added. 'I noticed that you had no breakfast this morning. Sliding down the drainpipe again were you?'

Lorrie could never really lie to his mother. He had, in the past a few times, for minor things, and it always left him feeling guilty. 'Yes, Mother, I did,' he replied trying to play it down.

'And breakfast?'

'No Mother, I didn't, but my stomach feels as if there are a million butterflies swooping around in it. I really don't think I could eat anything.'

'Lorrie,' said his mother sternly. 'The Ritual of Discovery is a long day and you will need all of your strength. I will not have you do it on an empty stomach. Do you understand?'

'Yes, Mother,' winced Lorrie, knowing that he had been defeated and that further argument was pointless.

'Good. So after you've tried on your costume, you will sit down and eat a hearty breakfast of cereal and toast, even if I have to spoon feed every mouthful into you myself.'

'Yes, Mother,' repeated Lorrie wondering if Lymble was going through the same thing next door.

Lorrie breakfasted heartily. He began with cinnamon cakes, cereal, and toast and finished off with squeezed fruit juice from the Unicorn tree and a nice mug of chocolate.

'Would you like some more chocolate?' asked his mother as she passed through the kitchen.

'No thank you,' replied Lorrie patting his stomach in a satisfied gesture.

After breakfast he was given ceremonial robes and told to go to his room where he was to contemplate away the remaining hours before the commencement of the Ritual of Discovery.

'What shall I contemplate?' he asked his parents.

'Each person has there own thoughts, Lorrie darling. There is no set thing to contemplate,' said his mother.

'Look inside yourself,' advised his father. 'Sometimes it is good to consider the One God who looks over everything.'

Jadestone grabbed Lorrie and held him to her chest. 'You must go to your room now, but relish every moment my beautiful son. This is a special day and you will not want to look back later and think you might have missed a single moment of it.'

When Lorrie looked up, he noticed that she had tears in her eyes.

'You have grown so quickly,' she said.

Lorrie squirmed out of his mother's arms and headed for the stairs and his bedroom. He stopped for a moment to hug his father on the way. Neither of them spoke: there was no need to. Both realised they soon would be more than just father and son: they would be brothers of the Eldwarf people. Lorrie patted his father on the back and resumed walking up to his bedroom.

As he looked up from the base of the stairs, he felt as if he was heading up to paradise. He seemed to be walking on sunbeams as he ascended the staircase, walking through rays of light that the sun cast through the large glass window at the top of the stairs.

In his bedroom, he sat upon his bed and he wondered about the ritual. He thought about his family and friends, and he contemplated his future. Finally, his thoughts settled on Lymble next door. He concentrated, focused and suddenly he was there.

'I'm a Watcher,' he told himself. He could clearly see his friend sitting on the floor with his back against his wardrobe door. 'Lymble,' he whispered.

Lymble's gaze shot up. 'Who's that?' he asked standing to his feet.

'It's Lorrie. Don't you recognize my voice?'

'Get away from my window, Lorrie. You know we're not supposed to talk to anyone during the time of contemplation.'

'I'm not at your window; I'm in my bedroom, sitting against my bed. Don't you see? I'm a watcher.'

'Even Watchers can't communicate like this.'

'I know,' said Lorrie. 'I'm as shocked as you.'

'This is incredible,' said Lymble sitting down on the bed.

'What about you, Lym?'

'What about me?'

'Can you do it too? Try concentrating on me sitting beside my bed, on the floor of my room,' said Lorrie.

Lymble concentrated; small beads of sweat glistened on his forehead and dripped down onto the silken material of his robe. In the next moment, he found himself staring Lorrie in the face, though he seemed unable to respond as if he were in a deep trance, or asleep. 'It's like I'm really there. I can see you as clear as day!'

Lorrie moved himself back into his room to join Lymble. Although he could hear his voice and knew that he was close, he could detect no physical presence. 'I wonder if anyone can hear us talk. I mean it's not like we're using our mouths,' said Lorrie.

'Only one way to find out,' replied Lymble letting out a scream that should have brought half the neighbourhood running.

'Evidently not,' said Lorrie after a fairly heart-pounding wait.

'Evidently,' agreed his friend, which caused them both to laugh uproariously. 'Do you think we should tell anyone?'

'Nobody's supposed to know their inheritance until the ritual,' said Lorrie. 'Obviously we're some kind of special Watchers. Besides, if anybody found out that we had talked during the contemplation time, we would not be allowed to participate in the ritual until next year. No, I don't think we should.'

'Right. Let's sit on it and see what happens.'

'All right,' said Lorrie uttering an oath of secrecy. 'May the Havenlight extinguish.'

'May the Havenlight extinguish,' repeated Lymble.

'I think it's about time we went back,' said Lorrie. 'All that food has made me sleepy.'

'Me too,' agreed Lymble, 'but how do we get back?'

'I don't know,' answered Lorrie, 'try thinking about your own bedroom.'

Lymble did this and in an instant found himself in his own bedroom and back inside his body.

Across the road, Lorrie crawled onto his bed and fell into a peaceful slumber.

He was later woken by his mother opening the door to his bedroom, carrying the neatly pressed clothes that he was to wear to the ritual. She leaned over and gently kissed on the top of his forehead. 'Come on, Lorrie,' she smiled. 'It will be time to go soon.'

Lorrie lay still for a moment, wondering if the experience with Lymble had been a dream. There was not much use dwelling on it right, he decided. He would find out soon enough. He slid out of bed and took off the contemplation robes and gave them to his mother, who hung them carefully on a coat hanger and placed them on the back of Lorrie's door.

The costume for an initiate of the Ritual of Discovery is rather an elaborate thing, for it has special ribbons around the back and side, so that it takes two people to dress. This in itself is part of the ritual and is supposed to be a lesson in both patience and cooperation. After about an hour of fussing, tying, untying, retying and several exasperated sighs of frustration on part of both Lorrie and his mother, he was ready.

'You look splendid.' She pointed to a corner of the room. 'Now go over there, so that I can see you from a distance. She watched the seams of the costume to make sure there was no last minute sewing to do that might have been missed by the tailor. 'My son,' she said in kind and loving tone. 'You are the picture of an Eldwarf! Lorrie Senior, come up and have a look at your son.'

Lorrie's father walked up the stairs fiddling with his bow tie. 'I only wear this once a year, so I'm forever out of practice.'

'Come here.' Jadestone had the bow tied in an instant. 'Now go over there so that I can inspect you both.'

Lorrie's father stood beside his son, as Mrs. Treebridge gave them a thorough going over. 'I think you will both pass.'

'Very well, my lady,' said Mr. Treebridge proffering his arm. 'Shall we go?'

'By all means,' replied his wife. 'Lorrie, grab the contemplation robes from the back of the door. They must be handed back before the ritual.'

'Yes, Mother.' Lorrie reached for the robes.

The little family walked down the stairs of their house and stepped outside into the midday sun. The three of them encountered Lymble and his mother emerging from the house next door.

'Hail, goodly fellow,' said Lorrie bowing low in a sweeping movement which formed a traditional Elven greeting.

'May the Havenlight burn within you forever,' replied Lymble in a Dwarven greeting of friendship.

The two young men went ahead of their elders, leaving the trio of parents walking behind at a more leisurely pace. 'Lorrie,' said Lymble his face serious, 'was it a dream?'

'It could not have been,' replied Lorrie. 'Not if we both remember it.'

'Have you ever heard of anything like this happening before?'

'Not in the entire history of the Eldwarves, and you know how interested I am in all the old tales. There would have been some fantastic legends associated to it, and I've not heard a whisper.'

'It makes me feel special,' said Lymble. 'But on the other hand, it takes away the surprise of discovery, knowing that we are already Watchers.'

'At least our parents will have that surprise.'

The two young Eldwarves walked the remainder of the journey to the City Square without speaking, holding their contemplation robes above the ground so as not to soil them.

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