The Lost Eight by Duron Crejaro (read me a book .TXT) 📕

anticipation waiting on the response she expected and had waited so long for.

 

A hairless brow raised in curiosity. Had Elris really told her of it already? Of course, he thought to himself, how else would he have gotten her to get them into the city? "What's that?"

 

"The Crown of Elia of course. Do you really have it? You must, I've haven't seen the Silver One in so long." The excitement was practically dripping from her voice as she spoke.

 

"You've seen a silver lizard man before?" Creolis added, not missing a word, confused slightly since it was a legend two millennia old. One that he had barely even heard of himself until recent events had jogged his memory on older lore he had learned.

 

Her head turned sizing up the knight, "So this is him?" Completely ignoring his comment. A nod from Elris, "Mmm a wise choice I think." It came out as a purr, as she ran her hand along his armored arm. Creolis blushed a little at this, totally forgetting about his comment before. "So the crown? May I see it?" A pleased with herself smile upon her face.

 

Desoil once again removed the crown, the horns vanishing. He held it gingerly in his hands, hesitation on his face at the thought of relinquishing it. The conflict within him was short lived. If Elris trusted her, then surely everything would be fine. Gently he held it out, like it was made of glass and might at any minute break. Without a thought she took it in her hands, turning of over, examining all the intricate details inlaid into it. After a few minutes of inspection, she returned it without a thought, not concerned with the fact she had held an artifact of unimaginable power that had not been seen in two millennia. "Fortunate are we with Belladria on the move, that the Crown that helped end the War of Eight has been found. Also, that it has been given to a descendant of the first Silver One."

 

"The first helped end the war?" Creolis added slightly perplexed. He ran through his knowledge of the War of Eight, limited as it was and could not recall the Silver One playing any major role.

 

She laughed a bit at this, knowing full well that Thyrinn's taught history made light of the Silver One and his role in the war. "Do not fret. I will reveal much. First, it is time for a meal and some comfort. I do not like being away from my library." She shot Elris a knowing smile, "Though, for an occasion like this I guess it cannot be helped."

 

They became silent now, listening to the stamp of the horses hooves, and the clatter of iron rimmed wheels as they rolled over cobblestone. Creolis thought her very mysterious, much like Elris. She seemed more lighthearted though, as if her life was not touched by whatever darkness seemed to linger around him. He sat pondering this reception, while listening to his stomach grumble angrily at him. Yes, he thought. A warm meal, comfort and answers. These are the things I need.

Chapter 10: Revelations

The library looked much the same to Elris this time around, with the exception of the early morning sunlight streaming through the vaulted glass skylight. It cast a warm illumination about the library, making it seem more inviting. Ahrianna had draped herself along the length of a plush couch near the center of the room. After they had been shown inside and comfortably seated, her aides had begun bringing platters of food and drink. They had laden the table with it, while everyone sat in a rather uncomfortable silence. Ahrianna lounged, almost bored on the sofa, eating grapes one by one from a bunch she had picked from the table. Creolis thought it mildly amusing, watching her move the veil slightly from her mouth to pop grapes in.

 

Within short order, the aides had all departed. They left a veritable smorgasbord of food for them. The conversation was delayed once again, as the three gorged themselves. Creolis especially ate much more then he would normally have, hungry from having missed breakfast, and the fact he had been eating trail food for over two moons.

 

The loremaster stood as they ate, retreating into the recesses of the library. She went directly to a very old wooden box, tucked into a corner of a bookshelf. She retrieved it with a slight smile, returning quickly to her company. She set the box on the table amongst the food, catching a curious glance from Elris. She opened it and withdrew a simple green corked bottle. She opened it skillfully, pouring each of them a glass, of a deep crimson colored liquid. Elris grabbed a glass, giving it a slight swirl, as he smelled deeply eyes closed. "It can't be." He exclaimed with a melting sigh as he sunk into his chair glass in hand.

 

"Oh but it is," She smiled broadly, " I've been saving it for a very special occasion, and what time would be more fitting then the arrival of the reborn Silver One. In possession of one of the Lost Eight no less.”

 

Creolis cautiously grabbed his glass, giving it an exploratory sniff. "What is this stuff?"

 

"This my boy," Elris paused nearly draining his cup in one long draught that ended with a sigh of content. "Is Shalusa, a wine made by the Dasorinthium, during the height of the Dalsor Empire. I didn't know any bottles still existed."

 

Ahrianna laughed, clear and beautiful like a songbird at the rising sun, "Come now Elris, of course I managed to save a few bottles in those last days." She refilled Elris' cup quickly.

 

Creolis took a drink, and found it wonderful. It tasted like nothing he could imagine, later he could describe it only as music in his mouth. Then he stopped, musing over what she had said. "Wait, You managed to save a few bottles? Dalsor fell two millennia ago. Even with that veil, you couldn't possibly be much older then me."

 

"Is that so?" A glimmer in her pale yellow eyes. She reached back behind her, untying the veil. She let it slip from her face. Her smile widened as she heard both Creolis and Desoil gasp.

 

The two of them were to say the least surprised. She was beautiful and elegant, sharp features to match those yellow eyes. Bright red full lips, with golden honey colored hair traveling down to her shoulders. The thing that had shocked him however, were her upwardly pointed ears. "You can't be an elf." He stated, sure of himself. "Elves have been gone nearly two thousand years. Unless you believe Elris, in which case they were transformed by that.... that crown." he stuttered slightly, pointing towards Desoil's head.

 

"Ah so true. The Jergan," she frowned a bit at this. " But, I am in fact Dasorinthium. Only those that turned against Elia were cursed." shrugging, "A sad fate for our people. Some of us remain though, members of Renad's Tempest. Keeping watch always as we promised, to watch for the return of the lost eight."

 

"But that would make you like," He did the math in his head, "Over two thousand years old."

 

Amused she struck a pose in her gown, laid out upon the couch, "Almost twenty three hundred, but who's counting?" She seemed quite pleased with herself for just a moment before sorrow blinked across her face, “One of the last vestiges of a dying race.”

 

He was in awe. Never before had he thought the elves had survived, let alone that he would be sitting before one. "So you were there? The War of Eight..." He trailed off a moment, lost in his thoughts before snapping back. "It was real?   The Crown is real.... It’s all real." His head was spinning.

 

"All myth is based on fact, though details may be lost. There is always a truth to them." She offered them simple wisdom.

 

"So that means you actually met Renad. You're in Renad's Tempest, just like Elris claims to be."

 

A quirk of her brow happened, as she threw a fleeting look at Elris that passed just as quickly. "Yes. I suppose that I am."

 

Desoil interjected at this point, "So if this Crown is so powerful, why can't I reproduce what happened to me in the cairn?" A perturbed tone of frustration following his tone, confused as to why he could not make it work.

 

She spared a glance at Elris before answering, fearing that she were revealing too much. "The Artifacts of the Eight. Curious they are. Each holds sway over an ancient type of magic. Take the crown for instance. It controls what your people would call transformative magic." she paused taking a sip of her Shalusa, "It's power is immense, but untamable, at least not in its entirety. The Lost Eight are alive." She waved off a confused look from Creolis, "Not in the same way you and I are, but they are like something alive. Only people descended from the original Eight can truly tap into their power."

 

"Then why was it, given? To me." Desoil spoke lightly, thinking back to the tomb, and the voice the feeling as if it were destined to be his still strong in his gut.

 

"The crown of Elia is a special circumstance. During the height of the war, when the Dasorinthium turned from Elia, Renad beseeched the king to give him the crown. After much convincing, the king relented, and Renad used it to create the five tribes of lizard folk. No one knows how, but we do know that Renad gifted the crown to the one that your people call the Silver One. He became the general that led Elia's armies to victory and ended the war."

 

"Then I must be descended from the Silver One? That is how I'm able to tap into some of the Crown's power." It was both a statement and a question.

 

"Yes, I would think so. With time or perhaps a bit of practice, and trial through error you will eventually be able to tap into more and more of its power. That is also, why the heirs of Elia must come to power. Only they can truly wield the enormous power of the artifacts and prevent another travesty from destroying the world."

 

"But where are the others? I mean, we've found the crown, and Elris says Belladria has one of the Eight as well. What happened to the rest?" Creolis said aloud, his mind wondering where the other six might have gone.

 

A simple shrug, "They were scattered after the war, before Renad vanished. I do know that the SaltSteel Dwarves have one in their keeping as well. However with the Broslak between her and the dwarves’ mountain stronghold in the north, Belladria will be long in acquiring it, assuming she even knows of its existence."

 

“Why didn’t Renad and the Tempest society destroy the artifacts after the war? It seems to me that it would have been the prudent thing to do. Then another war would never happen.”

 

Ahrianna smiled slyly, “At this is the crux of the situation isn’t it? I’m not exactly sure. The only person that would truly know the answer to that would be Renad’s Tempest.”

 

   A perplexed look festooned upon Creolis’ face, “But I thought