Skye pounded on the doors of Castle Amber, calling out for her brother-in-law. Ian had been gone for days, and there was no more waiting. Her decision was made, she had to find him.

"Corwin, without him, I am one already dead. No word? No missives? He's just... gone. There must be a reason why."

"Skye," Corwin tried to ease her fears. "If Ian were hurt I would know it, I have not felt him in any pain."

It was her next words which convinced him, "Aye, Corrie, but can ye feel him at all? I cannot reach him, and 'tis not Ian to be gone without such word to either you or me. It seems as if something larger and more powerful than Ian, or either one of us is keeping him away."

Corwin nodded, and a short time later they were off. Skye rode safely upon the back of Asgorath, Amaris along with them. She felt vaguely guilty about dragging the expecting Mari with them, but the younger woman had insisted, and besides, her expertise with armaments would be needed, Skye was sure.

They had camped in a cave, dining on dried meat, bread and cheese, discussing the strategy for finding the missing man. After a fitful doze, Skye departed as day broke. She struck out on instinct, trying to feel him close, asking those she met along the way. No one had seen him, or maybe they had, but they couldn't be sure. There were many who were elven in this part of Britain. Skye grew frustrated, Ian was half-elven, and at six and a half feet tall, was not likely to look like any of the other inhabitants. Still, she continued, doggedly searching, and calling out to him with her mind... hoping to hear him... feel him nearby... anything. She was to be disappointed each time.

It was cold... a misting rain falling around her. Skye walked on, deeper and deeper into the wooded area. The wind kicked up... howling now, and the rain began to pour. Night had now fallen, and Skye looked for any type of shelter from the wind and rain. Pulling her cloak around her, Skye found refuge inside the hollowed trunk of one of the giant trees deep in the wood. As the storm intensified, she was reminded of the story of Huney... and that storm.

Was this it then? Another one? Was she to also be lost in a violent storm, meeting with the same fate as Ian's first wife? If only he were here... if only he could hear her... all would be right again. The giant oak trembled in the massive winds of the storm. Skye drew herself deeply inside, keeping herself as sheltered as she could. The winds continued to howl... and then a massive *CRACK* split the air as one of the tree limbs was torn from its trunk. Skye sent up a prayer, and then, mustering all the will she could... she concentrated hard... screaming not with her mouth, but with her mind and heart, she called his name before everything went black.

Back home, a young woman was torn from a deep sleep. Sitting bolt upright, she awoke her fiance by calling out her sister's name... the tears wet upon her face.

Skye Blackthorn 4/99


The Seeking X - The Storm's Fury

Asgorath flew above the mountains to their north as the storm had rolled around him. He could hear the howling winds roaring through the passes and was about to head back to where he had left Skye and Amaris when he felt it, a scream of extreme fear that filled his mind. Immediately his mind cried out the name, "Skye!" He dove under the storm clouds, half blinded by the snow he flew as fast as he could letting his mind feel her to lead him on. His own wings sounded like thunder as he flared them out to slow his descent.

Then, he saw her body, lying motionless under an enormous limb from the tree that swayed over her. Asgorath landed softly and moved to her grabbing the branch and tossing it away like a twig. He noted the blood coming from the gaping wound on her head. He could see the steam from her ragged breath letting him know that she still lived and he sighed relieved that he was not too late. The great dragon carefully reached down and picked up Skye's prone body as gently as a cat caring for its children and held her close to his body as he rested on his hind legs. He wrapped his wings around to protect her from the cold as he closed his eyes and released his energy. The magic flowed through Skye's body which began to glow.

Amaris backtracked to the spot they had agreed to meet. The storm whipped around her as she came from the treeline. She saw a bright flash through the blowing snow and headed for it, only as she drew close did she see the glow was coming from the dragon. She approached unsure of what he was doing.

"Corwin, Where is Skye?" she asked as the glow faded. Asgorath turned to face her and spread his wings, "She was hurt. I felt her mind reach out and found her laying by that tree under a branch that seems to have been sheared from it"

Amaris looked worried to spite her calm nature, "Does she live?"

Asgorath closed his wings around Skye once more, "She will live. Come we must find shelter for the night. I saw a spot to make camp ahead. It is at least protection from the wind."

While Amaris went over the list of supplies that Skye and Corwin had brought along with them, a frown increasingly grew upon her beautiful features before she rolls the parchment back up, placing it within the folds of her cloak. Walking to the edge of the cliff that they've stationed themselves on, her arms folded over her chest loosely while her blonde hair whipped about her like a lion's mane as did the dark fabric of her cloak.

As the tall, lean figure moved along the edge, the snow fell from the sky in sheets, obscuring her view. Slowly, she turned around with a mournful glance. Settling down in the small tent Corwin had set up, she looked over her own weapons with a stern countenance, making sure they worked properly. Thoughts reeled through her mind all the while-- Ian, Skye, Rhuarc... herself and her unborn child. Yet her lust for gold overwhelmed all these worries. Aiming her crossbow towards a tree, she nodded approval of its balance, then set it back down.

After a few long moments, she dug out a parchment and a quill. It took a bit more digging through the assorted items to find the near frozen ink. Dipping the feather in, she placed the pen to paper, the words sprawled out in her elegant, yet spidery hand. "My dear friends, my work here has been finished and you have seen your way here with the knowledge of and use of my weapons. I do hope you find all is well. God speed. -- A.C."

With that, she left the small missive in a prominent space in the tent before she crawled out, making her way down the path towards their home, stealing a horse along the way to get there on time to finish her "business".

Asgorath looked down from a big ledge high above the campsite where the sleeping Skye lay. He let out a sigh as he saw a lean figure hurry from the tent and disappear into the storm. He offered a silent farewell, "May the gods be with you, Maris. Good deeds do not go unnoticed."

Chris Veith & Amaris


The Seeking XI - Interlude

A bird sang sweetly overhead, so Yarrow willed it to die. It was taking too long. His cursed nephew was still alive. It seemed no matter what traps Yarrowvathallion set, Ian always somehow managed to escape or avoid them. So, why should he suffer a damn bird to be happy when he himself was miserable?

Yarrow frowned as one of Meldir's insufferably fawning warriors came running up and prostrated himself at his feet. Yarrow barely managed to step a pace back before the man had a chance to kiss them. Instead, he spent the next few seconds bobbing like a demented crane as he tried to take the rolled up parchment from the man, who kept waving it over his head as he shoved his face into the dirt.

From the man on the ground, there was some mumbling about a message from Meldir to the god Yar`voth, about the evil Black One, and after the tall elflord had snatched the message away, he gave the human a swift kick in the rump just out of irritation with the stupidity of the man. He unrolled the parchment and read. And then he laughed. And laughed. And laughed.

"Divorce? Ah... lovely!!" He laughed until he fell to the ground, and even then, he rolled about howling.

The messenger ran like hell. And in the Fountain of Mezumiiru, the dark stain rippled, and grew.

Ian Blackthorn 5/99


The Seeking XII

Summer was drawing to a close.

In a tent on the plain that had once been the City of Green Silences, Yarrowvathallion rubbed at a shoulder long since healed. A human! A human had dared! But, he told himself as he sat and poured himself another cup of wine, that should not surprise him. Perhaps after Iannonvethallion was finally dealt with, he might turn his attention to Stephen Blackhawke. That is, of course, provided dear brother Ashe got out of the way. He sipped his wine, and smiled as he thought of plans of revenge.

*********

In the forest near Camelot, Ashevathallion sat on a log and told stories of the Sithryn to Shane and Arista... and some other children he was not quite sure whose names he had learned yet. It was not quite Autumn yet as the humans reckoned it, but the first leaves were beginning to turn, and here and there some were falling off the older less healthy trees. He spoke of how the gods had made the world this way, with seasons changing to always bring new things and sights to please the senses, and laughed as questions flew back in the cool afternoon air. He had come here to teach his nephew, and had found a home.

A slightly more frigid breeze whirled the leaves nearby, and Ashe knew suddenly that soon this peace he had come to cherish in so short a time would be shaken. Even while he laughed as Shane made a jest, a part of his being began to prepare for what he feared would come.

*********

Far to the west, on a rocky beach, two silver-haired elven girls laughed and played around a tidal pool. Nurse would be cross, they silently agreed, because Kara had gotten mud all over her new dress, and Dara's shoes were ruined from slipping into the pool when first they found it. Together they lay on the rocks, watching a crab crawl along the pool bottom, when suddenly the water rippled, and in the water they saw a tall man sitting on a log in some place with more trees either had ever seen! Another ripple, and the faces of a fair haired man and a red headed woman loomed large and then seemed to merge as once more the girls felt that other bonded pair's minds touch theirs. The girls exchanged glances. Who were these faces, and where did they live? And more importantly, why were they able to touch their minds?

They rose as one, then began picking their way over the rocks back towards where they had lost Nurse. The tide had turned, and a storm was blowing in from the east.

*********

In the Forests of Green Silences, above the Fountain of Mezumiiru, a sparrow faltered in midair, frantically beat its wings, and then fell to the edge of the cold marble. There it joined other birds and insects, and one luckless squirrel that had dared to dash along the fountain's rim. All about the pool, for several yards, a circle of death and decay had spread. And from the pool itself, a stench, the scent of doom.

A chill late Summer wind came across the water, and blew off towards Camelot.

Ian Blackthorn 9/99


The Seeking XIII

And thus came the humans... the Children of the Flame.

The Sithryn fought valiantly, but the humans were as many as grains of sand on the beach. Gradually, inexorably, the Sithryn were diminished. In a great battle by the sea once more, Quentayvathallion and his two sons fell in death, and in the way of the traditions, leadership of the House of the Silver Rose fell to his sister's son, a great warrior and mage named Evaynanvathallion.

At long last, the High King of the Sithryn, seeing that the battles might be won but the war lost to preserve his people, called a great gathering. All the Lords of the Sithryn Elven Nation gathered, and for six days and six nights their people sat outside the City of Green Silences, the seat of the Silver Rose Clan. On the seventh day, the High King caused trumpets to sound mightily and gathered the folk about him, and told them of the decision that had been made. His clan would stay and battle on; the rest of the Sithryn would walk the Planes, and seek a new world where they could live in peace and prosperity, and without fear of being drowned in a sea of their own blood. He called forth Evaynanvathallion, and bade him kneel, and with mighty oaths and solemn vows did seal to him the fate and rule of the Sithryn people, and charged him to fulfill his last command.

Early on the next morn, the last of the Sithryn High Kings rode forth, and all his House and blood and kin, saying tearful goodbyes to those who stayed within the Green Silences. And when they had ridden free of the Forest, the Sithryn host turned, and faced towards the City, and then the High King began to sing, a song the likes of which no human voice could sing nor ear could hear. It told of the Creation and of the history of the folk, and of all their joy and sorrow, and never before or since on that first plane has such a song been heard.

And from within the Green Silences, led by the voice of Evaynanvathallion, the rest of the Sithryn nation sang yet more of the song in counterpoint, telling of their sorrow, and of their hope and joy of moving on to another world. On and on they sang, each verse reaching new heights of wonderment and beauty, until at last, to the eyes of those without the Forest, the Green Silences seemed to be wrapped in a golden mist, and all within it rippled to the sight, then faded, and stretched...
And disappeared...
And so did the Sithryn folk leave the place of their birth, and so was completed the Sundering, for neither those who stayed nor those who went would see each other evermore.

... from THE BOOK OF GREEN SILENCES

Ian Blackthorn 9/99


The Seeking XIV

So the Sithryn left the world they had sprung from, and walked the Planes, seeking a new home. Long they journeyed, and found to their sorrow, that while there were many places they may go, few were the places they might stay, or even wish to call home. Some Planes they merely viewed and moved on. Others the Green Silences attempted to become part of, and this sometimes took many years before it was decided that the attempt had failed, or that the Plane was not one on which the Sithryn could grow and thrive. Thus, the Walking of Planes went on. The Centuries passed.

They walked upon worlds mostly of water, where some of the Sithryn learned to love the sea. They spent half a century on a dark foreboding world where the snows always fell and the humans worshipped them as gods. Another century was spent on a world where rain seldom fell, and winds blew harsh across great deserts. And at each of these Planes, the Sithryn did not find a home. Or most of them did not. For a strange thing had begun to happen.

At each of these planes, when it came time for the Sithryn to gather in the City and move it to the next, some chose to stay behind. Sometimes it would be only a few; other times it would be the remnants of one of the other Great Houses, chafing to once more have lands and power of its own, and thus not be dependents of House Silver Rose. For now there were rumors, and sly whispers, and then straight out accusations, that Evaynanvathallion would never decree an end to the search, that the power of holding the fate of the Sithryn by virtue of his rule of the Green Silences was too great a temptation. He would never be happy with whatever Plane the Sithryn finally claimed as home, for then the Clans, or what was left of them, would each disperse, and no longer be under his control.

And so the ones who felt such misgivings would stay behind, or sometimes some who had come to love whatever world they had been on would stay behind as well. And so the Sithryn were further diminished, not by the swords of enemies, but by dint of their own natures. Evaynanvathallion saw this, and despaired. Then the Sithryn came to a Plane, coming to rest near the town of Thornhaven, to the east of the lands of the place called Camelot.

... from THE BOOK OF GREEN SILENCES

Ian Blackthorn 9/99