|
|
|
Franz Lohner's Chronicle - The King and Queen i’ the Woods
An absent-minded man of mysteries, Franz Lohner relies on his bulging journal to keep track of occurrences, intrigues and arguments around Taal's Horn Keep. Sometimes his notes are even useful, believe it or not. The Franz Lohner Chronicles are extracts from that journal.
THE KING AND QUEEN I’ THE WOODS
You know what? I reckon our elf’s thawing. Typical of Kerillian to be contrary like that, what with the world freezing solid, but it’s good to see, all the same. Even smiled just yesterday. At least, I reckon so. Hard to tell with that mask always in place. Bardin reckons she’s hiding a set of broken teeth that’d make an ogre weep, and maybe he’s right.
Anyway, Kerillian joined the rest of us at the hearth last night, and when Bardin finally stopped singing, she started reminiscing about winter in Athel Loren. Unusual. I mean, all asrai are close-lipped – and she’s worse than most – but out of nowhere she starts weaving this story of the King and Queen i’ the Woods.
Now, I’ve got to be honest here … I don’t remember all of it. It’s not that I was drunk – not proper drunk. It’s more to do with how she delivered the story. Smooth as glass, it was, and soft as a lullaby. Every phrase flowing into the next with a grace that takes my breath away, even now. I distinctly remember what looked like a tear on Saltzpyre’s cheek before he stalked away, claiming prior commitments. Bardin spent the whole time staring into the fire with that distant look in his eyes. As if Kerillian’s words evoked folk long lost … and I’d be lying if I didn’t see a few familiar faces staring out of the flames. I wonder what happened to old Schepke, anyway? Never mind.
Where was I? Oh yes. The King and Queen i’ the Woods, Ariel and Orion.
Apparently, this story goes back to the early days of Athel Loren, when the elves were newly come to the forest. Ariel was the elf first to speak with the spirits of the wood, and Orion was a warrior bold, admired by all. Seems they met at a great autumnal council of war beneath the Oak of Ages, called to resist a ruthless enemy. Kerillian didn’t name said enemy, but Bardin coughed into his beard at that point, so I reckon we all know who they were. Only Ariel and Orion found better things to do than chinwag with their peers, if you take my meaning. They slipped away into the forest, and no amount of searching could find them.
Now, this was seen as a disaster by the elves, because Ariel and Orion were counted among their greatest champions. And they’d likely have been doomed, had the forest spirits not come to their aid. The totally-not-the-dwarfs were routed, but that was only the beginning of trouble. You see, a big old greenskin army had arrived hard on the dwarfs’ heels. Likely the orcs had wanted a bit of a barny with the dwarfs themselves, but they were quite happy to fight the elves in their place.
This time the forest spirits couldn’t help. Autumn had faded to winter, as autumn does. Athel Loren was deep in hibernation – treemen, dryads and the like all sluggish with cold. Still, the elves fought, because what else could they do? You can’t bargain with greenskins. All through winter, the asrai fought the bitter fight, buying time with spent blood and yielded territory, but in the end they had precious little of either left. As the first spring shoots forced their way through the snow, the asrai prepared for their final battle.
And then, a miracle! A godly horn rang out, and the mighty form of Kurnous filled the spaces beneath the trees, a pack of murderous, shadowy mutts on his heels and freshly-revivified dryads capering on his heels. As the God of the Hunt winded his mighty horn once more, the shivering elves found new strength. As for the greenskins? Well, Kerillian sang loads of verses describing their fate, but let’s just say it was a very bad day to be an orc, and leave it at that, shall we?
In victory’s aftermath, the elves returned to the Oak of Ages and discovered Ariel and Orion enthroned … or sort of. The tale gets a bit murky here, but it seems the two had somehow become the worldly avatars for Isha and Kurnous – the mother goddess and the hunter of the elven pantheon. Either Kerillian skipped over this part, or I’ve forgotten, but I’m not quite sure if that’s just a figure of speech, or whether some sort of amazing transformation had occurred.
Was it godly intervention? Was it the elders of the forest enacting some strange plan? Were Ariel and Orion actually Isha and Kurnous all along? Is it some fancy metaphor? Who bloody knows? It’s elves. It’s probably all of those things at once and none at all.
Anyway, the ascension of Ariel and Orion marked the salvation of Athel Loren, and a lasting pact between elves and forest, but it wasn’t without cost. You see, they were both now tied to the seasons, and as autumn faded to winter all over again, Orion grew weak. As the snows returned, Ariel bade a great pyre be raised, and her consort – her king – surrendered to the flames until he was nothing but ash.
But don’t worry, seems he came back the next spring and every spring in the millennia after. Kerillian didn’t explain the hows or whys, and didn’t look like she’d be pushed on the matter. The point of the story, she said, was that no matter how bad things get, there’s always hope when the snows fade.
And you know what? I did feel a bit better about the coming year. Let’s face it, the one we’re leaving behind was no great shakes, despite our best efforts. If even old Orion can arise from the ashes to keep fighting the good fight, well I reckon old Franz Lohner can keep his creaking bones in motion until the job’s done. I can rest when it’s done, you know?
Reckon I saw the same resolve in other eyeballs and all. Not Saltzpyre’s, of course, what with him having wandered off out of fear of betraying some manner of human emotion. But Bardin, Kruber and Sienna had that glint. Even Olesya almost smiled, and imagine that. Catrinne’s on at me to get hold of some asrai art for her to study, so Kerillian definitely made an impression there.
Funny thing is, the only person who didn’t look better for Kerillian’s tale was Kerillian herself. She looked even more distant than usual. Like she’d shrunk in on herself. Homesickness, I think. I hope. Because I can’t shake the feeling that she took no heart from the story because she’s worried that it’s a lie, and that there is no hope for the coming year.
Yeah, wouldn’t that be a bugger?
|
|
.
.
