The Crystal of Hope
By Emily M. Hanson
This is an original work of fiction. All of the characters belong to me. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead, or to any places that exist in reality, is completely coincidental. Please don’t borrow these original characters without my permission.
* * * * *
Chapter 1
The Month of Sunbright, Day 5, Year 2100
Golden flames crackled in the fireplace as the Archmage stood up. Sage Blackstone was a tall woman with long auburn hair which she usually wore loose. Her emerald green robe cascaded to the ground. The Amulet of Mysteries, the symbol of her office, hung around her neck on a glittering gold chain. It was a nine-pointed gold star.
Each point was adorned with a different jewel, one for each element of magic and the lesser realms. Diamond represented air. Emerald stood for the earth. Ruby meant fire, and sapphire was the symbol of water. The realms of magic were astral, solar, temporal, natural, and lunar. They were symbolized by amethyst, topaz, garnet, peridot, and moonstone, respectively. The amulet was also enchanted for magical protection.
Sage hummed while she dipped her quill pen into an ink bottle and began to write in her journal. This had become a nightly exercise, one which she enjoyed a great deal. She had just made the first mark, when someone knocked on the door.
“Who is it?”
“Aneurin,” the elf responded.
“Come in.”
Aneurin Moondark was tall and slender like most of the elven race. His short-cropped black hair and amber eyes marked him as a southern elf. His people lived in Bright Vale, a place far south of Wizardspire. He wore an indigo robe embroidered with silver stars. The ring on his left hand was set with a sapphire and two small amethysts. It had a faint aura of magic that Sage could see.
“What can I do for you?” she asked.
The elf’s gaze fell upon the Crystal of Hope. It had been safe in Wizardspire for over a century. Forged in the Citadel of Mirrors by elven and human wizards, it had the power to keep the Legions of Night from entering the physical realm. They were the armies of undead summoned by necromancers in the last war between elves and humans. The chaos caused by the Legions of Night had nearly torn the world asunder. Kyran Starwind, an elven Seer, had dreamt that the crystal could bring peace. And so it was forged, and the undead were banished to the Netherworld.
A shadow passed over Aneurin’s face as he replied, “Bring me the crystal.”
“It is safe. Do not concern yourself with it. Is there anything else I can do?”
“No.” The elf walked across the room and held his left hand up. Blue energy crackled from his fingertips and surrounded the crystal on its pedestal with ice.
“What are you doing? Stop this at once,” Sage cried. She hurled a globe of incandescent fire but Aneurin’s defensive shield, activated by his ring, absorbed it. It wasn’t enough. She began to cast another spell, intending to disarm his shields. By then, the crystal had become entirely frozen.
“No,” she exclaimed. “You don’t have to do this, Aneurin.”
“I must,” he replied. “Nelos has commanded me to.”
The worship of Nelos, the God of Darkness, was banned from both elven and human realms after it had been revealed that the necromancers who summoned the Legions of Night had worshipped him. This turn of events bothered Sage even more, since Aneurin had worshipped the Lady of Stars since his childhood. There were no signs that she could think of that might have led her to discover his conversion. It must have been a sudden change. If so, that did not bode well.
“That’s insane. Aneurin, listen to me and stop this nonsense, or I will be forced to destroy you.”
He ignored her. From his pocket, the elf produced an onyx dagger. It had one gemstone in the hilt, a sapphire, which seemed to glow with its own inner fire. He raised it above the frozen crystal.
The Archmage had intended to dispel the magical shields which surrounded the elf, but she realized that would not stop him in time. She clutched the Amulet of Mysteries and chanted. In the same moment when Aneurin brought his dagger down, a bolt of lightning shot out and struck him. The acrid scent of smoldering fabric and skin filled the air as he cried out. However, that was still not enough to stop the determined elven wizard. His dagger smashed the frozen crystal, shattering it into tiny pieces.
The elf turned around to see the rage on the Archmage’s face. He smirked. “Destroy me if you want to, but Nelos will triumph in the end.”
Sage called for the guards as Aneurin began to cast a teleportation spell. The guards arrived just as he vanished with a shimmering burst of light.
* * * * *
Garnet Silvermoon enjoyed being outside. She would much rather be out in the wilderness than in the stuffy old tower where her mother lived. Elyssia, her mother, was very ill. She had gone outside to gather herbs for a pot of tea, which would ease her mother’s discomfort.
The fifteen-year-old girl paused before a patch of Dragonsbreath and gathered a handful of the bright gold stalks. Suddenly there was a loud rumble in the sky overhead. She looked up and saw no clouds, just clear blue sky.
“That’s odd,” Garnet mused aloud.
It was almost as if a dragon had made the sound, but the last recorded sighting of a dragon had been over a thousand years ago, and it had been slain by a wizard. No one seriously believed there were any more dragons to be found. The very idea was laughable. But she still didn’t know what had made the noise.
There was another rumble. This time, the sky that had been blue only moments ago was shrouded with thick gray clouds. Then the heavens truly began to roar as silver lightning claws scraped across the sky. Raindrops tumbled from the clouds and Garnet had to run inside. She would have to make the tea later.
Garnet placed the Dragonsbreath flowers on the table and went to check on her mother. Elyssia was very pale, even for a northern elf. Her steel-gray hair cascaded across the pillows. Her breathing was ragged. She carefully touched her mother’s forehead. It was very warm. Her mother’s eyes opened. They were indigo, like the night sky, and nearly as deep. They were filled with pain.
“Hope,” Elyssia whispered.
“Yes, I hope you will get better,” the girl replied. “Please rest, Mother.”
“The crystal…broken…”
Garnet had to bend down to catch her mother’s faint words. She realized now that Elyssia meant the Crystal of Hope. “The crystal is fine. It is in Wizardspire, where it has always been. The Archmage is looking after it.”
“It was broken,” she insisted. “Promise me something.”
“Anything.”
“The Lady is calling me home, Garnet. I want you to promise me that you will go to Wizardspire when I die. Your father was a wizard. He would have wanted you to be one. Promise me.”
The girl hesitated. Ever since she could remember, she had always been afraid of enclosed spaces. Being cooped up in a musty old tower was the last thing she’d wanted. What she wanted was to become a bard or a mercenary…anything but a wizard. She wanted to stay out in the open, to always have the sky above her. Wizards had to live there after they finished their apprenticeships, which sometimes took years to complete. Garnet really didn’t want to be stuck there.
“It is your heritage,” Elyssia whispered. “Promise me.” Her voice was fading as quickly as her health.
The girl could see that her mother was dying. She had no choice but to promise this one last thing, even if it wasn’t what she wanted. To do otherwise would have been unthinkable. “I promise.”
Elyssia smiled. “May the Lady’s light shine on you always.” It was a traditional elven farewell.
The girl’s eyes brimmed with tears. “May her warmth embrace you, Mother. Be at peace.”
Thunder crashed outside as Elyssia’s spirit ebbed away from the world that had held it for more than 300 years. There was nothing Garnet could do now except to give her mother a proper burial after the rain ended. The girl’s tears flowed down her cheeks and splattered onto the floor below, shimmering like glass fragments as lightning illuminated the heavens outside.
* * * * *
It had been a long night. Garnet hadn’t slept well. She’d woken up several times and cried until she’d fallen asleep. The girl awoke early in the morning and decided that she wasn’t going to drift off again. It had stopped raining, but the sky was still dark and gloomy.
The scent of wet grass wafted in through the window as she opened it. The bright yellow dragonsbreath that she’d gathered yesterday seemed very much out of place. The nearest neighbor was an hour away, and she hated to bother them. But she would need help to bury her mother. Even though they were humans, the Goodwater family had been her mother’s closest friends.
The girl wore a crimson silk dress, since it was the tradition to wear red for mourning and it was the only red dress she owned. She also wore a black wool cape in case it rained again, and boots to walk in the mud. Garnet set off toward her neighbor’s house. It began to drizzle no sooner than she had left. She sighed and lifted up the hood of her cape to protect her long brown hair from the rain.
About fifteen minutes into the journey, she encountered an old man sitting by the roadside. He was human and dressed in beggar’s rags. He also held a flute in his lap. The beggar stopped and looked up at her. His brown eyes widened as he saw her red dress. “My deepest sympathies. Did you lose someone very close?”
Garnet nodded. “My mother died last night. She was very ill.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Let me play you a tune. Perhaps it’ll help you feel better.”
The girl shook her head. “I really don’t have time. I am going to my neighbor’s house. My mother needs to be buried.”
He gave her a very commanding gaze that seemed out of place on a beggar. She had no choice but to meet his eyes. “Music really helps to heal the heart, Garnet.”
She blinked in surprise. “How did you know my name?”
“I know many things. Please let me play for you, and then you can be on your way.”
Realizing that she didn’t have much choice, because walking away would have been rude, Garnet nodded. “All right.”
The elderly beggar lifted his wooden flute and played a lilting melody that really did make her feel better.
“Thank you,” she said, and offered him a copper coin in return. “May the Lady’s light shine on you.” Somehow it seemed like the proper thing to say, even though he wasn’t an elf.
He nodded. “And you.”
Garnet hurried up the path to the Goodwater family’s house. Daralis, a slightly plump human with blonde hair and blue eyes carefully pulled out weeds in her garden. She looked up to see the elf girl approach. Daralis’s eyes went to Garnet’s red dress. “Oh, dear. Was it your mother?”
She nodded. “It happened last night.”
“Oh, no.” Daralis stood up and embraced the girl. “You didn’t bury her yourself, did you?”
Garnet shook her head.
“Good. Why don’t you come inside? Tomas made breakfast. There’s still some fruit and bread left over. And there’s fresh tea. You like tea, right?”
The girl nodded.
“Of course. Come on in.” Daralis held the door open and waited.
Garnet entered the house. The scent of black tea seasoned with cloves and cinnamon reached her nose. It mingled with the scent of smoldering pine wood from the stove and fried eggs. She removed her cloak and hung it up, then sat down at the table. It was made of pine wood.
Meanwhile, Daralis washed her hands with a pitcher of water by the sink. They did not have running water yet, but the plumbing system allowed it to flow into the sewers below. Rumor had it that Wizardspire and the palace both had running water, but no one she knew had been to either place.
“That storm yesterday sure was something, wasn’t it?” Daralis asked.
“Yes,” Garnet agreed.
“It’s very odd. It isn’t the season for storms.” The middle-aged woman put a plate of bread and fruit in front of the girl, then poured them both a cup of tea and sat down. “You didn’t have any flooding, did you?”
“No. But my mother said something very strange before she passed on.”
“What did she say?”
The girl closed her eyes, remembering her mother’s exact words. “She said that the Crystal of Hope was broken.” She looked at Daralis. “But that’s impossible. The wizards are looking after it, aren’t they?”
Daralis leaned closer as Garnet took a bite of bread. “She could very well have seen it. The veil between this world and the next becomes thin at death, so thin that sometimes people see things they wouldn’t have otherwise seen. Most people don’t believe them because they’re dying. But I’ve seen things myself that have led me to understand that. Did your mother say anything else?”
“She wanted me to go to Wizardspire. She said that my father was a wizard, and that it was my heritage.”
Daralis nodded. “It is in your blood, dear. Your people have many gifts, and among them is the gift for magic. But only you can decide what you want to do.”
The girl finished her food. “I don’t really have anywhere else to go. Perhaps that might be for the best.”
“Perhaps,” the older woman agreed. “Let me find Tomas, and then we’ll help you do what’s right.”
Daralis left. Garnet sat there lost in thought, wondering what Wizardspire was like and how the Crystal of Hope could have been broken. Surely it would have taken powerful magic to do that. But why would anyone want to break it? Didn’t they know the chaos and destruction it would cause? If the Crystal really had been broken, then the storm last night was probably a sign of things to come. She had to go to Wizardspire and find out for herself what had really happened. That much she knew in her heart.
Tomas Goodwater returned. He was a stocky man with dark hair and also middle-aged. He was wearing old clothes and carrying a paintbrush and a bucket of paint. Some of the blue paint had gotten onto his clothes.
“Hello, Garnet. I’m sorry about your loss. I’ll change first, and then we’ll all go to your place.”
He set the paint supplies down and disappeared into the bedroom as Daralis came back inside, carrying a bunch of flowers -- irises, silver roses, and lovely daystars in blue and white hues. She proceeded to put them into a beautiful glass vase and arrange them.
“Your mother would have liked these.”
Garnet nodded. “She would have. Silver roses were her favorite.” A tear slipped out of her eye before she could catch it.
Tomas came out of the bedroom dressed in a nice red tunic. He also wore a flowing red cape. “I’m ready.”
“Good. I’ll change, and then we can go.” Daralis slipped into the bedroom and shut the door.
Tomas felt sorry for the elven girl. It must have been difficult caring for her dying mother. Garnet had no other family that he knew of. Her father left when she was a baby. He’d gone off to Wizardspire and left the mother and child alone.
There were indications that Garnet’s father sent the family money every now and then. Elyssia sold a few herbs and did embroidery work, which would have been enough to make a meager living. Once, he’d seen a jeweled dagger laying on a table there, with amethysts and moonstones in its hilt. It might have been magical. He didn’t know much about that stuff. But they had lots of books laying around, and books cost money. Very few families owned more than two or three books. If Garnet was smart, she’d sell them someplace.
“You can stay with us if you need to,” he said.
“Thank you, sir. However, I’m planning on going to Wizardspire.”
“To find your father?”
“Perhaps. My mother wanted me to go there.”
“Ah. So, what are you going to do with your mother’s house?”
“I don’t know yet. I’m not sure that I’d want to sell it. It’s nice to have a place to come home to.”
Tomas nodded. “That’s true.”
Daralis left the bedroom. She wore a light red dress with long sleeves and a modest neckline. “I’m ready. Shall we go?”
While Garnet and Tomas stood up, Daralis took the vase. They headed outside, and she picked up her shovel. It was still gloomy outside. The sun refused to break free from the clouds above as they walked down the long road to the Silvermoon house. When they passed the place where Garnet had met the beggar, she noticed that he was no longer there. However, she had the strangest feeling that their encounter was more than just a coincidence.
* * * * *
Sage faced the Council of Wizards with a growing feeling of uneasiness. Everyone wore a gravely serious expression since the matter of the Crystal’s destruction was of great importance.
“Archmage, I must inquire, what are you going to do about the Crystal of Hope?”
The outspoken man was none other than Jarian Silvermoon, a northern elf. He was a high-ranked enchanter and regarded with much respect. The elf was tall with dark hair and amber eyes. His features were finely chiseled, which was different from most elves, who had smoother faces. He was in excellent physical condition, but as a mage, his mind was his most important asset.
“We must find a way to forge another,” she replied, meeting his concerned gaze. “There is no other alternative. It is either that or face an onslaught of undead, and pray that we can keep them from destroying everything we hold dear.”
“I thought the means of forging the Crystal had been lost.” The next speaker was Topaz Wintersnow, a human. He was tall and stocky with blond hair and blue eyes. He specialized in the field of divination and was considered an expert.
“After the Crystal’s destruction, I spent many hours doing research in the library. It seems there were several components which went into the original forging spell. Unfortunately, these are extremely rare items. Obtaining them will be a difficult task indeed.”
The council was silent for several moments. Finally, Jarian replied, “Do we know how to put them together?”
“That is being researched as I speak. It will take some time to gather the components. In addition, Aneurin Moondark may be working to summon the undead legions once again.”
“He’s not a necromancer,” Topaz pointed out.
“True, but he is a water wizard and an expert on lunar magic. With those abilities combined, Aneurin could become a necromancer if he applied himself. If he’s truly converted to the worship of Nelos, raising the Legions of Night is probably his goal. We must find and stop him at all costs. It will not be easy.”
“What is your recommendation, Archmage?” Opal Glitterdew, the highest-ranking water wizard now that Aneurin was gone, remarked. At 5’6”, she was petite for an elf. Her slender frame was draped in a flowing white and blue robe, embroidered with silver thread. Opal’s long brown hair was wrapped in an elaborate knot, tied with pale blue silk ribbons. Her cerulean eyes took in everything around her, giving an impression of curiosity.
“I recommend that those among us with extraordinary talents and abilities be given the opportunity to use them. Forging another crystal is not something to be taken lightly. Those of highest rank should be invited first, then we should review the skills of the lower ranked wizards. We’ll probably have to hire some mercenaries as well. If there’s undead to be dealt with, we’ll need a few good fighters at our backs. Shall we put this matter to a vote?”
“Yes, let us vote,” Jarian said. Concentrating briefly, he formed a shimmering globe of white light the size of a large marble. It hovered in the air in front of him, casting a glowing reflection onto the polished silverwood table.
The white light indicated a positive response. There were very few negative responses, indicated by red light. The majority of the council agreed with the plan. Sage was pleased. There was a lot of work to be done, but she knew they could do it.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, Garnet carefully placed the dragonsbreath flowers next to Daralis’s vase on her mother’s freshly-dug grave. The flowers that she had wanted to make tea with were now a final parting gift. The bright yellow was such a contrast to the dirt that they might as well have been light from the Lady herself. She knew instinctively that her mother would have liked them.
“I know that I promised to travel to Wizardspire,” the girl whispered as her voice choked with emotion. “However, my heart tells me that I must find my own path. Perhaps I will find my way there eventually, and perhaps not. But it is my choice to make. No matter what, I will always love you dearly. I won’t forget you, Mother.”
She stood up and looked at the Goodwaters. Their human faces were full of compassion and sympathy.
“You’re doing the right thing,” Daralis said. “Wherever your mother is, she’s probably smiling.”
”She’s in the Lady’s arms now,” Garnet replied. “I’m sure you’re right. I should start packing.”
“For what?”
“I’m leaving. I will come back someday, but not for a while. My heart is set on seeing the city. After that, I don’t know.”
“That’s well enough,” Tomas remarked. “You’ll need a blade, though. I can lend you mine.”
“No, that’s not necessary. My mother had a dagger around here somewhere. I’ll find it before I go.”
“All right. Take care. If you ever need anything, you know where to find us.”
Garnet nodded. “Thank you for everything.” She gave Daralis one last hug and shook Tomas’s hand. “Goodbye.”
After they went home, she went inside and found her old backpack stowed underneath her bed. It was well-worn, but it would have to do. Several clothes went into it, as well as several pieces of her mother’s jewelry that had been her mother’s favorites -- an amethyst and diamond necklace with a silver chain, a silver emerald ring, and a ruby amulet on a gold chain. Garnet didn’t want vandals to get them while she was gone. She stuffed her journal, writing quills, and a bottle of ink into her backpack as well.
Then she looked in the dresser by her mother’s bed. There, she found her mother’s dagger. Garnet wondered if it was truly meant to be used as a weapon. It looked more decorative than anything. Three amethysts about the size of a small marble were embedded in the hilt and evenly spaced a fingerwidth apart. In-between were two perfectly round moonstones, less than half the size of the gems. It was possible that the dagger was magical. If so, Garnet had no idea how to use its powers. Perhaps she might eventually learn. She took the dagger and its leather hilt, then attached it to her belt.
Finally, she took some food. There wasn’t much that wouldn’t spoil within a few days. Garnet took a few apples, some carrots, a piece of cheese, some dried venison, and three potatoes. Most elves were not vegetarians, but they wouldn’t eat meat unless they knew that the creature had been killed honorably and without suffering. There were several rituals that elven hunters had to perform to ensure this was done. Elyssia had gotten most of her meat from an elven hunter named Daevin who lived within a two-day journey. It was a part of elven culture that the girl had grown up with.
Then she took the stuffed backpack and slung it over her shoulders. It took her a few moments to get used to the heavy weight. Once that was done, Garnet took one last look at the house where she’d grown up. She wouldn’t be here again for a while. Then she crossed the threshold outside and headed down the path, which would eventually lead her to the main road and towards the human city of Oakchester.
* * * * *
