Tales of Eldelórne Read online

  Disclaimer and Copyright

  Dedication

  FORWARD

  PROLOGUE

  BOOK ONE

  Sacred Gardens

  The King’s Heart

  Dark Moon and Sun

  Her Final Hour

  Human Faces

  Honor and Heart

  Roevash’s Prayer

  Lady Of Light

  Eijlam’s Anthem

  By the Gods

  Memories Lost

  Eyes Wide Open

  Days of the Fall

  Fionna’s Lament

  Friends Like That

  The Lion Heart

  The Great War

  Clarion’s Call

  Homeward Coming

  Shadow Man

  Hermit’s Hovel

  Village of Trees

  And Back Again

  Dark Garden

  Girl Named Naalin

  King Of Autumwood

  How Many Evils

  The Death of Us

  Unraveled

  Heart of Roevash

  Bond of Love

  Heart of The Matter

  Ruination of Men

  The Fallen Returns

  Naalin’s Bane

  Dragon Speak

  Blood Wedding

  Kingdom of Gods

  Heart of Valor

  Dragon Flight

  Broken Chain

  Spirit of Fire

  Dragon’s Wrath

  King’s Emissary

  Elfling Song

  Dragon Lord Comes

  Contrite Heart

  Dragon Heart

  Force of One

  Song of Two Brothers

  Light of Justice

  EPILOGUE

  Elvish Terms

  GLOSSARY

  Find More Stuff

  “KarleighBon’s Kitchen”

  “Tales of Eldelórne: Book two”

  “Tales of Eldelórne: Book three”

  About The Author

  TALES OF ELDELóRNE

  A Dark Fantasy Elfanovella

  Karleigh Bon

  Disclaimer and Copyright

  The concept, cover art, characters, the world of Ainghaille are all crafted by the talent and imagination of the artist-author and is their sole intellectual property. Thendiel's Clan, and the characters and the world of Ainghaille and community of Eldelórne, and all those things included in but not limited to podcast audio, book audio, software robotics and characters of the “Tales of Eldelórne Trilogy: Book One" “Book Two” and “Book Three” “KarleighBon’s Kitchen” "Cael’s Compendium on the lives of the Edhellen” are all copyrighted materials with all rights reserved from 2012 to the present date.

  The Elvish dialect referred to in my writing is based on formal Sindarin, which is a fictional language invented by the late J.R.R. Tolkien. Any nods, or homages to the mythical, magical, living or dead found in the story are there purely for the reader’s enjoyment. Any similarities to real, fictional, digital people, situations or places in this work of fiction is purely coincidental. This is entirely the artistic and intellectual work of the author and may not be reproduced in any fashion without written permission from the author. Contact: [email protected] if you have any questions. No excuses.

  Tales of Eldelórne: Book one, can be found in libraries and quality book stores under ISBN 978-1-704-34198-9 and purchased directly from the author on Amazon.com

  First Limited Edition

  © 2019 Karleigh Bon

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

  KDP

  Dedication

  I dedicate this story

  to those souls kept separated

  by time and circumstance.

  And to Mom, for telling me

  I have a good imagination

  rather than crazy

  when she found me talking

  to the chickens at age nine.

  FORWARD

  The Eldelórne tales are about the lives of the last elves who live in an ancient high-fantasy realm called Ainghaille. The place is full of horror and danger, ogres and goblins, wizards and dragons. The tales are also full of anger, struggles, tears and laughter, it’s true, and at the heart of it all, an epic love story. What kind of love might you ask? True love, a brother’s love, the love of family. If you guessed all three you would be correct.

  The kingdom of Ainghaille has been changing rapidly since the Great War at the end of the third age. Humans, with their short lives and memories find themselves entering the Fourth age of Mankind where elves do not exist except in the stuff of children's bedtime stories!

  In the beginning, the storybook narrative sets the stage for the whole trilogy. It gives you a peek into Thendiel’s life and bring you up to speed on how her sons came to be. Each book in the trilogy is a stand alone edition with a satisfying end.

  It all begins when Thendiel finds herself forced to leave the mortal realm as she clings to a thread of life. A choice that unwittingly rips her sons, Roevash and Eijlam apart, and from their home, by circumstances out of their control..

  “Anthon i narn hen pen vain adh lalaith, nîr meleth angin, lend adh estel.” ~K.

  Translation: I give you this story of laughter and tears, heartfelt love, and a journey of hope.

  PROLOGUE

  She came from across the Vodla River where her clan had lived on the southern ocean shore for thousands of years. Thendiel Kingsaver was visiting the sacred pools and gardens of Illianheni for the last time. She came to say goodbye, and to afford what comfort she could offer.

  Branches, like dry fingers, protruded upward beyond the remaining thin cover of green. They Rattled like skeletal bones grasping for a final breath from silvery clouds that were slowly drifting by in the evening light. Giant moss-covered corpses of the once majestic sentinel trees hung silently waiting for the final collapse. Thendiel could hear only a faint whisper of their heart’s last song as she ran loving hands over crumbling bark and limb, to ease their passing.

  “I am with you,” she gently assured them as the sting of tears stabbed into her nose and eyes. Tears fell, as much for her own loss of time, as theirs.

  “Goodbye, my dearest friends. Too soon all that is left are the old poems,” she cried helplessly as, one by one, the last voice went silent.

  Illianheni still showed signs of the great majesty it once knew despite the creeping devastation. It was a place where Thendiel’s clan had celebrated the seasons passing.

  Rocky high cliffs soared on the garden’s east boundary. In the light of day, the tallest waterfall could be seen, pouring down like the spout of a giant unseen ewer from the upper precipice. Stately mallorn trees crowded together near the lower pool, towering a grand eighty feet, into an array of mossy umbrellas. The constant spray of the waterfall kept them alive. They were the last of the dark green that dotted the garden.

  Thendiel was only an elfling when the king spoke here long ago. So much had happened since those simpler times. She instinctively put her hand up by her heart, making sure the amulet that always hung there was not lost. Turning away, she headed back home over the narrow old footbridge that spanned the thick flowing tributary below.

  She had heard elven kind all across the mortal realm were responding to the song of their guardians of eternal slumber. They were migrating back to Ilmatar; the womb of their gods, from where immortal elves are reborn. There were rumors that all of Ettenfahls kingdom had already left this realm.

  Thendiel felt the call some time ago, but she willed herself to stay here for the sake of her sons. Her decision came with a constant struggle against a growing pain that tore at her. Thendiel's life had stretched so thin she was now bein
g forced to leave this mortal realm or lose her existence entirely to the true death. If that should happen she would be eternally separated from her kin and never reborn, as is the way of elvenkin who find rest with their Lords.

  “I hope they can understand, what I have done. It is my fault that I find myself so frail. They are both still too young,” Her brow furrowed into permanent worried lines, but even that gave her naught the strength to tell them.

  “Never was it right to have to tell them,” she sighed, shaking off the shame of those lost moments.

  “I do not have time for regrets now.” Thendiel silently quickened her pace across the long span that led back to Eldelórne.

  The full-moon glittered in an oval pool, alive on the water below. The light sparkling through her long silvery hair made her seem ghostly, as it waved in the warm breeze.

  Night creatures, waking up from the shadows, danced and played on the water far below. The sharp buzz of a fat June beetle tickled her ear as it tumbled past in the moist warm air. The corners of her mouth started to turn up, and she couldn't remember how long it had been since she last felt like smiling.

  Thendiel stopped and turned around as he stepped off the bridge. She savored the tapestry of scents and sounds that filled the air of her homeland. This time she could not stop the sting as it welled up in her eyes.

  “I must be strong for the sake of them, ... tomorrow the horses will carry me,” she broke into great heaving sobs. Her long hair tangling over her face and down both arms as she clung to the bridge support.

  “I must not fail now,” she choked through a flood of tears. Red rimmed eyes darted around, hoping to find someone who could help; make this all better.

  “Where are the wizards when you need them!” she spat, disappointed at their glaring absence.

  “King Ellinduil vowed he would not fail me in his promise, and he has proven himself true thus far.” Thendiel knew, that in her dire condition, her king was sending the guard to carry her to the ships. She’d tarried too long in asking for help.

  Thendiel sniffed, letting out a deep breath. A cloud dripped warm rain, like tears. The sound of it pattered down through the forest. Wiping her face on her damp sleeve, she quickly turned away; heading home on the old stone path.

  Her thoughts of him, brought her mind into the past, as she remembered her life in this place...

  BOOK ONE

  Sacred Gardens

  Chapter One

  The river delta is a warm sultry land. Green moss hangs like carpets dotted with tiny blossoms of many-colored flowers. They shelter an abundance of birds and small animals that live among the branches. Trees along the river and under the bridge look like giant dancers dressed in green. Reaching up out of the depths of the delta waters, they sway in the warm, wet breeze. Giant water bugs and flitting dragonflies buzz and skim over the tops of the waves, their iridescent wings glinting in the sunlight.

  The village of Eldelórne is made up of giant sentient trees that weave their branches together, forming walkways and hanging gardens for their elves. Thendiel’s home has been with her clan since the second age. The tree homes are made up of many levels of smooth flowing chambers that magically open inside. The golden-brown walls have a soft glossy shine that radiates warmth and affection for its inhabitants.

  Young Thendiel knew the empathic way of nature. Her mother had the ability as did her grandmother before her. The gift made their bloodline as healers well known among the Edhellen. Her talent blossomed early. Thendiel quickly grasped the speech of trees and creatures that lived in their branches. She practiced her voice by telling them all her secrets, as true friends would. She found that each tree had its name in the song that flowed deep inside its life’s blood. Ancient and all-knowing they were a great unmoving family with their roots deep in the land.

  From youth to young adulthood Thendiel attended the many gatherings in the Illianheni gardens that lay on the other side of the great Vodla river.

  Elves from distant kingdoms often traveled to the sacred place to join in the festivities, in honor of the seasons. Giant sentinel trees kept watch, as young elves played their games of tag and hide in the garden’s forest. At the gatherings there was always music, good food, and dancing.

  Thendiel slipped away to her favorite reflection pool to be alone, and away from the noise. Hidden away in a sleeve was her favorite leather-bound poetry book. She planned on curling up against a warm tree trunk while there was still enough daylight to read. Thendiel loved the sound of the ancient language. It reminded her of everything she held dear.

  Unknown to the elves of Eldelórne, the High King of Ainghaille commissioned Darjalia to build a military outpost nearby. It was hidden in the eastern foothills on the other side of the gardens. The soldiers kept watch over and protected the surrounding lands. The base was home to many families, and the Ranger, elite forces, that were stationed there.

  On this day, Thendiel happened upon a young ranger near the water's edge. He had dark hair, and startled blue eyes. They shone like pale stars against the pool’s reflection, as he looked up at her.

  “Who are you?” he asked quietly in the common tongue. He dared not move, fearful she might run away.

  “What is your name?” he asked again.

  The beautiful, red haired girl, turned to look for an escape. The young man saw the tip of her ear and knew she did not understand.

  “Mê dh’ovannen,” he greeted her formally, and her eyes riveted onto him curiously.

  “No vêr i thîn,” (Nice evening) he continued, and she seemed to relax until he stood up. His great height startled her into moving back a few steps.

  “Man i theled i cheniagir edhellen?” she demanded to know how, and why, such a strangely large human spoke her tongue.

  He bowed showing respect as he introduced himself by name.

  “I am Marin,” he spoke gently, continuing in Elvish.

  “I am sorry my height, and my tongue disturbs you, but it is my birthright to be such as I am,” he shrugged helplessly.

  “This is my place,” she informed him with narrowing eyes.

  “I was not aware the Edhellen owned such things,” he replied, making her blush.

  “The belief is truth,” she admitted awkwardly, “I only meant to say, this is a favored, quiet place. I visit here alone… to read.”

  Marin looked down and noticed the tiny book that she had been clutching to her bosom.

  “May I,” he asked, holding out a hand.

  In a gesture of trust, she carefully held the book out to him.

  “It is lovely,” he admired the beautiful leather tooling along the edge of the cover.

  Thendiel stood curiously watching, as he sat down again at the water’s edge, to read a passage to her. She had only to hear his low rumbling voice speak it, and he stole away her heart.

  “Fair gardens of light.

  Place of the great falls, majestic Mallorn stay.

  Birds sing high above, in branches.

  Ever twining, hand in hand, we walk in sacred places.

  My beloved's sigh beckons me, come play.”

  “This is a verse about these gardens,” he recognized, much to her delight. Thendiel found herself smiling. She dared pull herself closer. Soon she was draped over his broad shoulder, pointing out mistakes in his use of the archaic language. He delighted at her intensity as she spoke. An hour soon past and they found themselves unable to read in the dark. Marin leaned over and handed Thendiel the precious book. For a moment, their faces lingered too close.

  “Can you return, before the sun sets on the morrow?” Marin whispered. Her lips parted as his breath tickled her ear. Like a soft breeze, Thendiel kissed him on his cheek, welcoming his friendship, as she quickly disappeared into the forest. Marin sat wondering if it was all just a dream.

  Thendiel stubbornly refused to stop seeing the mortal human against her parents' council. Her golden-red hair flowed in great waves around her as she ran across the bridge to m
eet with Marin. The two walked hand in hand along the many stone paths among the pools and delicate spring flowers. Reciting songs, and poems to escape the problems of the day, they found an endearing friendship that could never be broken. She was his beloved, and so was he, hers.

  Constant in their desire to stay together, they spoke their vows in front of witnesses. She made a home with him among his people.

  The rangers had their hands full most days with goblins and ogres in the mountains to the east. Swarms of the hideous creatures were reported attacking homesteads throughout the forest lands. There was plenty to do to keep busy in a military outpost. The Darjal’n folk had a place of healing in their village where Thendiel helped care for the sick and the wounded. She shared with them her elven practices, and knowledge of rare healing herbs.

  As Marin and Thendiel had feared, on the last day of the autumnal season, he was called away to fight in a war far to the north for a king that she did not know. Filled with sorrow, they lay down in their most favored place in the garden among the flowers. It was above the highest falls. There they spent their final hours together. Her cries mingled with the sounds of the rushing waters as he held her close to his heart. Sharing the tenderest of kisses, he never wanted to let her go.

  At the break of dawn in their last moments together, Marin could only gaze solemnly down at her for there were no more words to speak. He turned away with his duty, and his regiment. She watched as they faded off into the distance.

  Thendiel lost all strength and fell down weeping. She had put on a brave face for him. The other wives of the regiment, picked Thendiel up from the ground and helped her home.

  “Ú-cheniadhir,” she cried out as they set her gently in her bed. “Death will take me… this is too much,” She is Edhellen. She had an eternity to mourn. Thendiel fell into a deathlike sleep. Elves call this healing slumber, but she slept alone and when she woke, Thendiel found she could not be cured of a broken heart.