The following is an excerpt from my novel-in-progress “Into the Darkness.” Heartache. Joy. War. Love. This is the story of a young prince who must forsake everything in order to confront the Evil One before the black walls of Gehan. This passage is from the first chapter, entitled “Summer in Yavanna.”
As he rode, very leisurely, he sang aloud many songs which his fathers had made long ago; this Prince, you see, was on what we would call a vacation. Today, being a prince is really no important matter, but in Alaetar and Yavanna, the prince was a very important person. This is how it worked in Yavanna: the king would assign important tasks to the prince, such as taking a census of all men of fighting age, along with various commands (Irahir was the King’s Royal Navy Captain) in order to prepare him for the kingship. And Irahir was now on vacation, and resting from the may tasks over which he labored, sometimes long into the night. He frequently stopped at the many streams which flowed throughout the forest, and would quietly sing or recite some poem from the many lays of Men. He was doing just this, while preparing lunch, when a strange noise began to echo from the brook.
The noise started as something like a gentle wind passing whimsically through leaves scattered on a lawn, but it kept growing and growing, getting louder and louder. Finally, it became thunderous and terrifying; the sound rushed upon Irahir’s ears, beating furiously into his head. Then it stopped as suddenly as it had begun. Irahir slowly got to his feet, glancing warily about the forest, putting a hand to the hilt of his sword. But from the creek emerged a tall lady, dressed in long, flowing folds of a dress; she was surpassingly beautiful, and no drops of water fell from her body. As she got closer, Irahir marvelled at how young she appeared, yet her eyes were filled with time. From her long, jet-black hair came a faint type of blue-colored light, something like that which the trees emanated but more so. And she smiled.
“My dear Irahir, son of Alasmir, why do you marvel thus? Surely you have not forgotten the Lady of the Aluine?”
And at that Irahir marvelled the more, for every man, woman, and child was told the story of the Lady of the Aluine. ”My lady!” he cried, making a deep bow, “forgive my rashness, I beg! For many fathers of my father have fallen asleep since last you visited us. And how blest am I! that you should appear to me!”
“Indeed, young prince, it has been many years as Men reckon, yet not so long as your kin supposes. Yet I come out of necessity, for fell deeds and great evils are at hand. Yea, beloved, I foresee that after what shall come to pass, the world will be torn asunder and all things come to an end.
“And you, Irahir son of Marahir, have been appointed by him who made Alaetar and Yavanna and all therein to be the instrument of these deeds. For the task has been allotted to you that you shall bring about the destruction of Sepul and his ilk.”
“My lady, a fell task this is indeed! Sepul…a name which even my father dreads to speak. How is it that this has come to me?”
“Your place is to accomplish great deeds for the people of the One, not to inquire into his mind, which none may fathom. Let it be enough to know that he has chosen you to be his anointed.”
“But my lady, how am I to do such a thing? Not even the Elves dare challenge Sepul himself.”
“The captain of my people, Wēÿanna, has considered such things already. This is my charge to you: you must find the Gifts of the Dyndoura, which lie scattered abroad in Alaetar. Again I see a great many questions in your mind, prince of the Eldamir! That is good! But know this: many of your questions will never have an answer. But along the way, much shall be revealed to you. To help you in your quest, find the Giant Atal, who lives on the shores of the Great Lake. Further answers I cannot give.”
