The Elven village of Helurid was contained entirely within the branches of an enormous tree which lent its name to the village, the forest, and the people who lived there. The larger buildings were located in cavernous hollows within the massive trunk, and the smaller dwellings were built on platforms that seemed to grow naturally along the great tree’s massive branches.
Galfin led the messengers out of the Great Hall and slowed down as he stepped onto the network of bridges that connected the city. They were made from planks and supported by gossamer thin ropes that were almost as invisible to the naked eye and were wide enough for four men to walk down side by side. However, despite being suspended at dizzying heights, they were designed for the fleet footed elves and lacked any sort of railings.
He crossed the bridge to the next platform and turned around to watch his wards make their way slowly down the centre of the bridge. He turned away for a moment to observe the spire in the distance. The sun was up, and the multitudes of foul creatures that had been swarming over its surface during the night were now nowhere to be seen. Somehow, the stillness made the spire seem even more ominous, and he was sure that the red lights would haunt his dreams later in the day.
“This is bloody unnerving!” the dwarf gasped. “The knife ears must do this on purpose so they can get their kicks on watching the other races struggle.”
“No one’s looking at you, Findel,” Ondra pointed out as she held Chelhem’s hand tightly. “Just focus on putting one foot in front of the other.”
“Steady now,” Galfin called out, recalling how much trouble he had with the bridges when he’d first arrived. He’d spent the first week in Helurid sleeping on the forest floor. “Just don’t look down and keep your eyes fixed on the next platform. Think of it as any old path on firm ground and you’ll be fine.”
“Bridges and paths in dwarven cities are carved out of rock. They don’t sway every time the wind blows,” Findel said through gritted teeth.
The dwarf was young. His beard was thin and patchy in places, and it looked like he hadn’t quite grown into the chainmail armour he was wearing. Galfin extended a hand and hauled the dwarf over to the next platform before casting an eye on Chelhem, whose face was as white as a sheet as he struggled to keep his eyes straight ahead.
He found it strange. Earlier, after the boy had spoken, Galfin would have laid his life down for him without thinking. Now, though, he was just another boy. He was concerned for his wellbeing as he struggled down the bridge, but no more than anyone he would be for else.
“Thank you,” Ondra breathed, accepting Galfin’s hand.
She looked up and smiled when she saw the lumberjack staring at the boy. “It’s the Voice of the Emperor. It is an innate ability of those carrying the blood of the royal line, and it will temporarily trigger intense loyalty in any human who hears it.”
Galfin blinked. “That is quite the power.”
Ondra nodded in agreement. “It was how the Bargusian Empire was built. Unfortunately, only one of the Emperor’s legitimate sons possessed it. If only there had been more, the Northern Rebellion might not have happened.”
The lumberjack shrugged before leading them to the next bridge. “That war didn’t touch this part of the world, and even if it did, that was a different time. None of the tribulations of the old world matter after the Night.”
“You are right about that,” Ondra remarked, slowing down when they arrived at a new pathway. “If I may ask, what were you before the Night of Fire?”
“I was a lumberjack,” he replied, hefting his axe. “No friend of the elves, that’s for sure, which is why I was surprised when they took me in without question.”
“Are you keen to join our expedition?” Ondra ventured.
Galfin stepped onto the bridge without slowing down and made his way unerringly across. When he reached the other side, he turned around and replied. “I owe my life to the elves of Helurid. If what you say about the spire is true, they will soon need every able body to defend this place. I will not leave them in their time of need unless I am ordered to.”
“That is short sighted,” Findel snapped. “The Enemy is devouring us piecemeal because all anyone wants to do is defend their little corner of what’s left instead of seeing the bigger picture.”
“That's enough, Findel,” Ondra said gently before turning her attention back to Galfin. “It's a shame you will not join us. Your skill with the axe would be useful to us on our quest.”
“I thought you said we weren't to share details with people who hadn't joined our endeavour,” Findel sniffed as he slowly inched across the bridge. Sweat streamed down his face as he kept his eyes locked onto Galfin. “How far is it to the human layer, anyway?”
“Far, I'm afraid,” Galfin replied, hiding a smile. He peered over the edge of the platform and caught a glimpse of the ground far below. He was struck by a wave of dizziness, and he forced himself to look away. When he recovered, he continued. “The elves prefer to live higher up, especially with the raids, and we humans are happy enough to occupy the lower levels.”
“And how many of our people live here?” Chelhem ventured.
“We numbered a seventy six just after the Night of Fire,” Galfin replied. "But our men must join the nightly patrols, and the frequent raids have taken their toll. Now only twenty four remain.”
“Oh,” there was an intense sadness in the boy's voice, and his head dropped as he arrived on the next platform.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
“You've accustomed yourself quickly,” Galfin remarked, very impressed with the boy. It had taken him months to cross a bridge with that much confidence.
“How many hundreds of thousands must have died in the Night of Fire and the immediate aftermath?” Ondra sighed, still only halfway across the bridge herself. “I wonder how many of our people remain, scattered across the Sanctuaries.”
“I sometimes fear that the Great Burning struck the other side of the Great Ocean as well,” Chelhem murmured.
“The dwarves living under the Land's Edge Mountains say the sky didn't burn to the east of them,” Findel piped up. “So have some hope. Besides, it won't be funny if your fleet doesn't show up after we go through the trouble of getting to Edelsburg.”
“It is all too easy to give in to despair,” Ondra said upon arriving at the next platform. “It is important to hang onto hope and fight with all our mighty until the very end.”
The boy nodded earnestly, and the wizard turned her attention to the dwarf, who was still struggling across the bridge. “Hurry up, Fredlin. At this rate, it will be dark by the time we get to the human layer.”
“Oh shut up,” the dwarf snapped. “We dwarves are accustomed to having solid bedrock under our feet.”
A commotion stirred amongst the elves on their platform. Galfin followed their gaze and spied little tufts of black smoke wafting up into the sky from the spire. He strained his eyes but could make out no details.
“What is it?” Galfin asked one of the elves nearby.
“Enemy creatures on the surface of the spire,” he replied, his eyes wide with shock. “At least twenty of them. Enormous brutes...”
“The Enemy, able to stand under the light of the sun,” Galfin breathed. “Heaven help us.”
“Do not despair,” Ondra cried confidently. The wizard formed a loop with her finger and thumb and peered at the Spire through it. “That smoke you see is the sun burning their hides. Those beasts will not last long under the sun, or they would already be at your doorstep.”
“What are they doing?” Findel asked when he finally arrived on the platform.
“They showed off the spire's power last night,” Ondra said. “I’d wager that they are warning us against attacking it during the day.”
“It would have been better to let us send elite troops to attempt just that and then ambush them, wouldn't it?” Galfin ventured.
“Which leads me to believe it's too early to despair,” Ondra declared confidently. “They are giving off a display of strength precisely because they do not want us to attack.”
“So, should we?” Findel asked.
Ondra shook her head. “That is not my decision to make.”
“No, we will not be launching an attack,” an elvish voice said.
Galfin snapped to attention when he saw a tall, long haired elf standing beside him. Endras Duro was Captain of the Helurid Rangers and had a reputation amongst his men for his sharp tongue and iron fist when it came to matters of discipline.
“Captain, I thought you were in a meeting with the Chieftain!” Galfin cried.
“It has concluded,” Endras said absently.
His attention was fixed on the spire and the smoking creatures standing on its surface. At length, a hatch opened on its surface, and they filtered inside. Only then did the Captain turn his attention back to his guests.
“I suppose they think they have made their point,” he remarked.
“I do not wish to meddle in your affairs, but I think a pre-emptive strike may be prudent,” Ondra offered.
“I do not agree,” Endras said curtly and gave the woman a sideways glance. “I thought you would be eager to rest after your arduous journey. I was surprised to find you had only made it this far.”
“You need to install some bloody handrails, or someone is going to fall off one day,” Findel snapped.
The elf frowned. “That has not happened in the history of our village. The bridges are very wide.”
Before the dwarf could retort, Endras turned his attention over to Galfin. “A moment in private?”
The lumberjack nodded warily and followed the Captain across a long bridge that led to a gazebo that was built on the end of a branch. As it faced away from the spire, it was empty, but the Captain led him close to an edge that overlooked the forest, and Galfin couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to be pushed over the side as punishment for abandoning his post the previous night.
“Time is short, so I will get right to it,” Endras began. “The Chieftain thinks it is important that our tribe be involved in their quest in the off chance that it succeeds.”
A bead of sweat rolled down Galfin’s cheek. He didn’t like where this conversation was heading but knew better than to interrupt his Captain. “However, I disagree. We are stretched thin and cannot spare any of people for this suicidal mission. Things got a little heated, but I managed to persuade him to see things from my point of view.”
Galfin nodded slowly before furrowing his brow in confusion. “Why are you telling me this?”
Endras looked over his shoulder at the messengers who were waiting patiently on the other platform before turning back to Galfin. “We do not want to offend them in the off chance they succeed and in the off chance this host of theirs can turn the tide. We want you to break the news to them. Preferably once you reach the human layer. The woman will likely demand another audience with the Chieftain. Turn her down politely but firmly.”
The blood drained from Galfin’s face. “I’m afraid I am no diplomat.”
“It will be better if they hear this from one of their own,” Endras replied. “I have dispatched Aeldra to help you… explain things and to escort them out.”
Galfin blinked. “Do you think they will turn violent when they find out?”
Endras shook his head. “No, but we have survived this long by leaving as little to chance as we can.”
“When do wish for them to leave?” Galfin asked.
“Against my counsel, the Chieftain was adamant they should be allowed to spend the night and depart at dawn,” Endras sighed and turned his gaze to the spire. “Both you and Aeldra are excused from tonight’s patrol. “You should take the opportunity to spend time with our guests, earn their trust.”
“I’m afraid that won’t be easy,” Galfin sighed. “Especially after I break the bad news to them…”
The lumberjack’s eyes widened in surprise when his Captain placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. “You must try. I agree that they are our best hope for the Continent’s long term survival.”
“Then why not send one or two to accompany them?” he asked.
The Captain shook his head sadly. “I would not hesitate to dispatch a Ranger or two if all we had to contend with was the nightly forays to destroy down a few trees here and there that they have been launching for the past year, but now that they have the lights… I fear we need every had that we can spare if we are to live to see this host of theirs arrive to tip the scales in our favour.”
Before Galfin could speak, three sharp blasts from a horn echoed out from the upper levels of the Great Tree. Endras walked to the edge and looked down before cursing. When he whirled around, Galfin saw that his face was white with shock.
“The Enemy is here!” he cried as he ran full tilt towards the bridge.
“The Enemy attacking in broad daylight?” Galfin gasped. “That’s impossible!”
“And yet, they are here!” Endras cried. ““Ready yourself for battle and get yourself to the lower layers, as quickly as you can!”
“What about our guests?” Galfin gasped, as he sprinted after his Captain, but it was no use.
The elf didn’t reply as he ran full tilt across the connecting bridge. Galfin attempted to do the same but was forced to slow down when it began to rock violently under his weight. When he looked up, he saw his Captain jump off the side of the bridge and land neatly on a platform thirty feet below them.
