Delvin's Story
Working Title: The Path of the Heart

Chapter 1
Farewell

	The storyteller settled into the chair, making his old bones comfortable.  
	"So, children, what story shall I tell you tonight?"
	A clamor broke out, but quickly resolved into one child's voice.  "Tell us of the beginnings, Uncle Kelleth!"
	"A good tale.  It is always important to know the beginning of anything.  So, then.
	"In the beginning was the Universe, and from the thought of the One, She made the High Gods, who are three, and their seven brethren, and a host of others.  And spirits uncountable began to come from the Void beyond worlds into the new Universe; and some of them were kind and true, and others were evil, and thought only of themselves."
	Another child piped up, "But we heard the story of the Battle Before Time last week, Uncle Kelleth.  Can you tell us of the beginning of Kenor tonight, instead?"
	Anton smiled.  He had heard the story before; he had heard all of old Kelleth's stories since he was one of those children, over thirty years ago, but the old man was such a good storyteller, he never tired of listening.  Besides, though Kelleth wouldn't mind, Anton felt it would be rude to leave once the telling was begun.
	The storyteller continued, "Very well.  As you all know, since I told you last week, the Gods of Kenor fought against the evil spirit Acorin and his followers before the making of the world.  And one of the Seven was slain, and even his name has passed out of memory, but Aya, the Binder, came from beyond the world to take his place.
	"After the Battle was over, the Seven and the Three came together to make a Great Work.  They formed the World out of the stuff of the stars, and began to fill it with things of beauty.  Mountains were raised, and deep seas dug, and many gems were set deep in the earth.  Kemi made many plants, and Tyrali made many animals, and they filled the land and sea and the air with them.  
	"The One saw all that they had done, and he was pleased with the work of his children and stepchildren.  He called them to him, and smiled, and raised his right hand, saying, 'I will bless this work of your hands, and I will give into it a gift.  Behold! my younger Children: the Elves, who are strong of soul, and will bring glory to the light; the Kerim, who are steadfast of body, and keen of mind, and who will seek wisdom in the darkness; and Men, who are great of heart, and swift and changeable, and who will swing the pendulum between the dark and the light.'
	"But then his face grew stern, and he raised his left hand, and spoke again.  'But that you should not become over-proud of your creation, and that the balance shall ever swing, I place onr more race into the world: the Dragons, the agents of Chaos, who will ever appear if the balance is not maintained, or ceases to move.'
	"And the creatures that he had named came into the world, and they were put in safe places, and they slept, the Elves in the deepest woods, the Kerim in the hills and rocky lands, the Men in places unknown, and the Dragons in all the deep places of the world: under mountain and sea.  And they waited for the time of Awakening.
	"After Aya had bound the traitor Urlos and formed the Land of the Dead which bears her name, the Elves awoke first, and the time of their awakening was on a night of stars, and they were glad, and sang their praises in voices high and clear.  And they loved also the woods in which they awoke, and praised the Lady of the Woods, gentle Kemi, who took Nature as her realm, and the deep greenwoods were her special love.  The Elves therefore loved Kemi, and worshiped her as their own Goddess; for though they had heard of other Gods and Goddesses, none seemed as close to their hearts as the Green Lady.  As reward for their love and worship of her, Kemi taught the Elves how to work with the energies of all green growing things, and use it to benefit themselves and the woods they lived in.
	"Soon after, the Kerim awoke in their rocky places under the New Moon, and saw the beauty of its shining silver sickle, and made their own music to it, which was the music of rocks pounding, and feet stamping, and voices raised in sudden joyous shouts.  When the Elves heard this music, they found it strange and coarse, unlovely and uncouth compared to their light voices raised in song; but they felt its joy, and so knew it for what it was.  The Kerim were taught by Saleth to hone and use the powers of their minds, and they worshiped him.
	"Now, the homeland of the Kerim was near to that of the Elves.  The mountainous region where the Kerim lived was called in their tongue U'chyam, and it bordered on the forest of the Elves, called Armantor.  The Kerim and the Elves were not friendly in those days, but nor had betrayal yet set terrible divisions between them.  There was little traffic between them, but they lived side by side in peace for an age."
	As Kelleth wound down, the children began to stir, as if released from a trance, and after a miinute one of them asked, "But if the Elves worshiped Kemi in the beginning, why do we worship Arelien now, Uncle Kelleth?"
	Kelleth replied gravely, "That is another story, young Jeris.  Another story, for another night."

	As Kelleth answered other questions, Anton quietly slipped out the door.  It was getting dark; more so because of the steady rain that fell.  Anton grimaced as a large drop fell from a tree down the back of his neck.  Then he shook his head and sighed fondly, as he saw his younger brother standing in the middle of the clearing ahead.
	He was bare to the waist, and he stood with his head thrown back and arms slightlly spread, reveling in the wet weather.  He had always loved the rain.  
	"Delvin!" Anton called.  "Wet enough for you?"
	Delvin turned to his brother, eyes bright.  "I know you don't like the rain, but you'll never convert me.  And I don't understand how you can not like it!  Just feel how all the trees love it!  Feel how it gives life to them!"
	Anton shook his head again.  "My brother the mystic.  No, you know I can't feel anything of the kind, butÑÑ" he held up one hand to forestall Delvin's next words "ÑÑI know you can.  Come on, brother, Mum and Dad will be waiting."
	
	When they got home, they knew at once that all was not well.  When they saw the sword, still scabbarded, lying on the table, they knew that something truly dire was happening.  
	Their father's expression was somber, their mother's pale.  Without preamble, Gareth Anaris declared, "It's come.  Darkmoon's orcs will be here before noon tomorrow.  You know that they must not get their hands on this sword."
	Delvin and Anton exchanged looks, nodded.  "We know," Delvin said.  "But we still don't know why."
	"I know, and I've put off telling you the full story too long.  Well, the short of it is that back in the mists of time, our ancestor was one of the highest of elves, and he did a great service to Arelien, so she gave him her sword that she used in the Battle Before Time, and the name to go with itÑÑAnaris, Sunsword.  Now, only someone who's pure of heart can use the blade as it was meant to be used, but it's got more power in the pommel-stone alone than a dozen Darkmoons could ever hope to have.  And I'd bet he'd find some way to use that power."
	Anton stepped forward.  "Then surely we should run away, Dad.  The whole familyÑÑ"  He stopped.  "But how will the town defend itself?  Do they have some magic they can use?"
	Shelis spoke then.  "You know we have no more magic here than anywhere else in the world, Anton.  But...there is one thing..."
	Gareth looked down.  "We won't be running, my sons.  You will, with the sword, and all the children."
	Both brothers looked up in alarm.  Delvin's eyes widened.  "You can't mean you're going to let them kill you, just to give us time to get away!"
	"Not exactly, lad.  Your mother said there was one thing..."  He looked at his wife.
	"You know there is only one source of true magical power in this age, Delvin.  Blood, death, and pain.  We will use our deathsÑÑthe whole townÑÑto destroy these orcs.  With luck, there will be spells linking them to their master, and the backlash will injure him, as well."
	Their father spoke again.  "You must leave tonight.  All the children are having their things packed right now by their parents.  I know it isn't going to be easy for you...I know you're not the best with children...but you must do this.  For all of us.  For the whole forest; you know what Darkmoon could do if he got his hands on a source of power like that sword.  We must not let him know that anything like it was ever here.  You must go."
	Neither Delvin nor Anton could speak.  Every child knows that he must lose his parents sooner or later...and Delvin and Anton had known that they would long outlive their full-human father.  But to lose their mother as well, and so soon....
	But young as they were, they were of a long and proud line, and they knew their duty.  They hugged their parents, and went to pack what would be necessary for the six-hour journey to the elven city of <<CITY NAME>>...though it would surely take nearly twice that long with all the children to shepherd.  They had made the same trek many times before, and knew well what they would need.  Delvin could tell that he was still in shock, and not yet emotionally processing what was happening.  He knew that he would not for as long as he was still doing something...so he kept moving, never stopping, knowing that to stop was to lose his forward momentum and fall. 
	But his brother would not push the emotions awayÑÑhe never had.  Delvin saw him through the doorway, out of the corner of his eye, packing away clothes damp with tears, his shoulders shaking with grief.  Sometimes Delvin envied his brother that ability, to truly surrender to his emotions.  Somehow, in Delvin, they always seemed to stick, and not let themselves come out.  He knew that later, he would feel grief, sadness, pain, and even rage.  But right now he couldn't feel anything.  He just kept moving.
	
	They led the children out of the village not long after sunset, the eldest adolescents carrying the smallest children at the head of the group.  There were no tearful farewells here; all the adults of the village had preparations to make for when the orcs arrived.
	"They should be here early in the morning," their father had told them as they stood watching the children assemble.  "We'll let them in, lure them into the center of the village.  The others will remain in their houses.  Once the orcs are all there, we'll give the signal.  The fireworks...should be spectacular."  He smiled faintly and lowered his voice so that only his sons could hear him.  "There will be no pain at all.  We will simply give up all our energies willingly to the spell of destruction."
	And then all the children were gathered, and there was no more time...
	It was not an easy road to travel in the dark.  Many stumbled, and often fell.  At one point, a child cried out that she had dropped her doll, but none could see where it might be.  After some hours, they thought they could hear the sounds of harsh cries and the tramp of many heavy, booted feet.  Delvin led the way, with his better night-sight and woodslore, with Anton bringing up the rear.  At times it seemed as if they would never reach <<CITY NAME>>, that this was some fell part of Aya, and they were doomed to travel this path forever.
	At last, though, they began to catch glimpses of the city through the trees.  About an hour before dawn, when the sky was beginning to turn grey, they came into the town of <<CITY NAME>>.  Anton and Delvin went directly to the town leaders and explained the situation.  Within a few minutes, the children were brought into houses and given beds.  Before long, all were asleep.  Delvin and Anton stood outside, bodies leaden with exhaustion.
	Just as the first rays of the sun began to break over the trees in the east, another light flashed bright in the west as if to challenge the dawn.  Several seconds later, a low booming sound came from the same direction.
	A stunned expression came over Delvin's face as the blood slowly drained from it.  He fell to his knees and stared unseeing into the west.  Nearby, Anton covered his face, leaning on a tree and weeping for the world they had lost.

	It was nearly an hour later that Delvin and Anton spoke again.  Delvin had no memory of anything that had happened during that time, but he found himself lying in a cot on the lower floor of the town hall, Anton on another cot beside him.  Delvin sat up, pushed the blanket aside, and swung his still-booted feet down to the floor.  Anton looked over at him.
	"Anton, let's go back."
	After a moment, Anton asked, "Home?"
	"Yes.  We...we can't just leave their bodies to rot."
	Animation returned to his brother's face.  "Yes.  You're right.  We need to give them a proper funeral.  And get rid of the bodies of the orcs."
	Delvin looked down.
	--We need to say farewell.--
	They took a few minutes to get food for the day, though neither was hungry.  Then they set off back toward the place which, until just hours ago, was home.  Neither spoke along the way.  They both fell easily into a ground-devouring jog that both could keep up for hours at a time.  Somewhere past halfway there, Delvin paused as Anton veered a little off the road and bent to pick something up.  It was a doll, hand-sewn with love, stuffed with rags. 
	Anton stood for a moment just looking at it in his hand.  Then he said, "I'll...give it back to her."  Delvin nodded wordlessly and they both continued jogging.  Delvin noticed that Anton did not put the doll in a pocket, but held it tightly in his hand.
	They reached the remains of the village somewhat after noon.  It was quite devastated: every building was a burned-out shell.  The building with the most left standing was the Temple of Arelien at the west end of the village.  Delvin and Anton moved through the town like ghosts themselves.  Neither spoke a word, and both their faces were very pale...particularly when they came to the center of town and saw the orc raiding party.  The bodies of at least three dozen orcs lay there, most blackened beyond recognition.  Nearby, nearly untouched by the fire, lay the bodies of a human man and an elven woman.  The man had an orcish arrow in his left leg, and other arrows lay around.  It was clear the arrow had nothing to do with his death, however, and his face and the face of his wife both bore expressions of supreme peace.
	It was then that Delvin and Anton broke down, both sobbing like lost children, there beside the bodies of their parents.  They cried for a long time, holding each other.  At last, when all their tears were spent, they looked at each other, stood up, and began moving the bodies.  The orcs they pulled into one haphazard heap.  The bodies of all the villagers they brought to the blackened Temple of Arelien and made a pyre, with their parents on the top.  They went into the forest and collected tinder, some of which they used to cover the bodies of the orcs.  Delvin lit the tinder with his tinderbox, and within minutes the orcs' bodies were all aflame.
	He was putting the tinder around the bottom of the pyre in the church when Anton put his hand on his arm.  
	"Wait.  I wantÑÑI want to stand vigil tonight.  Pray for them.  And...for us."
	Delvin stood up.  "Yes.  I'll stand vigil with you."

	They both moved to the other end of the church, where the altar still stood, untouched by the flames.  They knelt before the altar and began to pray to Arelien.  
	--Oh, great Arelien, mighty Sun,-- Anton prayed.  --Take to yourself the souls of those who have died today in Your name; cradle them in Your bright haven forever.  Give them rest in the land where there is no darkness, only Your light and peace.  Forgive all their transgressions against You and against the world...--
	His thoughts trailed off into formless hopes, prayers without words for the souls of the village he and Delvin had called home all their lives.  He had no notion of how much time might be passing.  Some part of his mind noticed that Delvin was no longer kneeling beside him, but lying asleep on the floor.
	After a time, he felt a light on his closed eyelids.  Puzzled, he opened his eyes...and saw that the altar was glowing.  His eyes widened, and he stumbled to his feet and backed up a step.  Then a form began to appear within the light.  As Anton squinted at it, it resolved itself into a woman wearing fighting leathers and bearing a sword at her side.  Her hair was long and shone like burnished gold.  Her eyes...he quickly looked away, and threw himself to his knees on the ground.  Her eyes shone like the fires of the sun.  
	"My Goddess..." Anton choked.
	:Rise, My warrior.  You need not fear Me.:  Her voice seemed only partly to come from her mouth, and partly to resonate within Anton's mind.
	"My Lady Arelien...why...why have You come to me?  I am not worthy of this honor..."
	Arelien smiled.  :Of all the people in this world, you are one of the most worthy.  There are far too few who still truly honor Me and live lives of true goodness.  I have come to give you something, and to ask something of you.:
	Anton stood up slowly.  "Of course, my Goddess, I will do whatever You command."
	:It is not a command I come to bring, but a request, for the thing I would ask may be very difficult, and possibly dangerous.  First, though, there is something that you want from me.:
	Anton looked blank, and could say nothing.  The Goddess smiled again.  :I know you did not ask for anything for yourself, but I heard the wishes of your heart.  You would know if your parents are at peace.  Close your eyes, then, and see.:
	Anton's eyes widened, for she had known what he wanted as clearly as if he had told her.  Then he closed his eyes...and saw, as if he dreamed, another place.
	It was a pleasant garden, with a small house in the background.  Two people walked arm in arm through the garden.  It took Anton a minute to recognize them as his parents, since they looked so much younger.  Many lines of care and worry had been smoothed from their facesÑÑparticularly his father's.  They looked happier than Anton had ever seen them, and perfectly at peace.  Anton felt tears trickle down his face, and opened his eyes.
	"My Lady...thank you.  I will do whatever you wish."
	Arelien's face grew serious once more.  :You know that I and my brothers and sisters have been unable to fully act in the world since the day our brother Selath was slain.:
	"Yes...the mages attacked the High Temple that day, and sealed the Gods...I mean, sealed You...out of the world."
	:We still do not know exactly what they did; our attention was, unfortunately, elsewhere at that time.:  What might have been grief passed across her face briefly.  :But what mortals do, mortals can undo, save for death, and this was no death.  My Anton, my champion, I charge you with finding a way to restore our power to this world.  Do not be afraidÑÑyou need not do this alone.  Your brother will help you, if you ask him.  And I know that this will be no easy task, and will take a very long timeÑÑperhaps years.  We have waited over seven centuries; We can wait a little longer.  But I fear that the time will come soon when you, and this forest, will need My power.:
	Anton knelt carefully before her on one knee, and drew the sword his father had given him, laying it on the floor in front of Arelien.  "My Goddess, I swear that I, and this sword, will serve You, and fight in Your name, and carry out Your wishes, until the day I die."
	Arelien smiled again, lighting the ruins of the church.  :I accept your service, Anton Anaris.  You will be My knight from this day forward, and carry My blessing into the world.  Now...sleep.:
	And he found that he could no longer stay awake, and slipped into dreamless slumber till dawn.