The Stonewood - Prologue

Malfin strode through the gilded doors of the Great Library of Mithrin. A dim light greeted Malfin and the night. As far as the eye could see, there were rows and rows of bookshelves covered in books. An elderly man sat at a desk off to Malfin’s right.

“Good evening, milord. How may I be of service to you?” Tyrn, the Master of Knowledge said, barely even taking his eyes off the book he was reading.

“I was hoping you could help me find an old tome, Tyrn. The Stone has made a personal request that I find it. He said it may hold the key to my search.” Malfin said.

That pompous ass. Calling himself The Stone. To think that I once looked up to that swine. Once this is complete I will deal with him.

Tyrn tried to conceal the concern on his face, but Malfin caught it. He’d been seeing that look more and more lately.

“The book, Tyrn. It’s The Union of the Five by Ledlin the Melder.”

“Oh, now that’s a book I haven’t heard mention of in years. If you’ll just follow me, milord. I’m quite certain of its location.” Tyrn replied.

Tyrn murmured to himself as he began threading his way through the vast array of shelves. Malfin quickly followed, as Tyrn could be like a bloodhound once he had scented a book. The man may have been old and could scarcely remember what day it was anymore, but he never forgot a book once it was placed on his shelves. Malfin would need four or five me to replace Tyrn as the Master of Knowledge once he passed. The man would most likely die here in the library, facedown on some old book. Though, his soul will probably never leave this place. His spirit will likely hang around, tormenting his successors if they move even one book out of place.

Tyrn finally slowed in front of a shelf and carefully pulled out a beautiful, worn vellum book. He cradled the book like a newborn child and gently handed it to Malfin.

“Have no fear, Tyrn. I wouldn’t dare harm one of your precious volumes.” Malfin said.

A slight smile formed at the corners of Tyrn’s lips, but it disappeared just as soon as it appeared. That was more reaction that Malfin had seen from him in years. The man was almost like the books he tended, rarely changing and always in the right place. Tyrn led Malfin back to the entrance to the Great Library. This library will be my crowning achievement, but I’m not even sure if I could find my way out of here without Tyrn. Malfin bid goodnight to Tyrn and walked back out into the cool night.

Malfin’s personal guards fell into stride behind him. Always one step behind. Always perfectly in stride. The King’s Shadow. Their black cloaks blew in the soft night air, the moonlight glinting off their scorpion emblem. From this far off, the Palace of the Dawn’s white walls took on an eerie glow. The glow beckoned Malfin home.

A servant opened the carved oaken door for Malfin and then bowed low. His face a mask of indifference despite the late hours. Few servants attended the High King. Malfin demanded excellence from all those around him. His guards, his servants, even his wife.

Two more members of the King’s Shadow materialized out of the shadows of the main hallway. Malfin motioned to them, and they stepped forward soundlessly.

“Lothar. Deliver a message to the Council of the Five. Inform them that they will attend me tomorrow evening at sunset.” Malfin said.

He continued on through the long, empty main hallway. Elaborate tapestries depicting the history of Mithrin hung from the walls. Malfin stopped to admire his favorite. It displayed a green field, with the Mithrand Mountains looming in the background. On one side of the field was a commander sitting tall atop a muscular, white horse. On the other, was a man with bloodstained armor, offering his sword in defeat. The Battle of Glanion. Mithrin’s last great conquest. I will make you proud Ledlin. Malfin continued through the hall. The light from the torches danced off the gilded sword at his hip. At his chamber door, stood two more members of the King’s Shadow. Malfin opened the door and was immediately met by a servant who began to undress him. The High Queen of Mithrin, Anura, lay asleep in their bed. He bent and gave her a soft kiss. Then climbed into bed, wrapping his arms around his beloved. But even his wife’s rhythmic breathing could not slow his racing heart.

Tomorrow will finally be the day I secure my legacy forever. And after that, I can get rid of the Stone. And the whole Council of the Five. Shame, it will break Mother’s heart. But the man is a miasma on this kingdom. Malfin drifted off to sleep with the image of the Stone’s limp body swinging from the gallows.

The next evening, Malfin sat upon the Throne of Truth, hearing the plea of a village blacksmith for the right to produce weapons and armor. All blacksmiths in Mithrin had to attain the seal of the High King to forge instruments of war, a remnant of the Deepwood Rebellion.

“Enough. You can have the seal. Just make sure that you are producing your quota for the army of Mithrin. We are always in need of new supplies.” Malfin said.

“Thank you! Thank you, gracious king.” the blacksmith said as he bowed to the floor and was escorted out.

The day of court had dragged on and on, but finally it was time. I’ve waited years for this. And now we know what to do. After tonight, I will be the most renowned king to ever live.

The doors to the throne room opened and in walked five elaborately dress people. Each of these people wielded almost as much power as Malfin himself.

The herald’s voice echoed across the halls. “Council of the Five, you have been summoned here by the High King of Mithrin, the Lord of the Valley, the Bringer of the Dawn, the Watcher on the Mountain, and the Speaker of Truth, Malfin Dalerion.”

Each of the members of the Council of the Five stepped forward as their name was called. Most of them gave slight bows, showing their relative status to the High King. The Eagle, gave a bright smile and bowed low to Malfin. The Stone, on the other hand, barely been bent his head in acknowledgement. Malfin raged inwardly, but his face was a mask of pleasantry. I am the High King, brother. Don’t think you can ignore my power just because it could have been you sitting on this throne. The Law is the law. No wielders can sit on the Throne of Truth.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I have already had a room prepared for the ritual. Guards, escort them to the room and make sure they have everything they need for the ritual. There are instructions on the flows required from each of you.” Malfin said.

The most powerful men and women were escorted into a side room. Malfin sat on his throne, contemplating the first changes he would make after the ritual. Seconds faded into minutes, and Malfin slipped into sleep.

Rocks whistled back and forth as they played at war. Albus flnaked Daemon, and Daemon dove to the bushes for cover. But it was a trap. Malfin’s stone hurtled at Daemon’s unprotected face. Daemon raised his hand to shield himself, and the stone dropped to the ground, inches away from hitting him in the face. “Daemon, Daemon! I saw the flows. You’re a wielder of Earth.” Malfin shouted.

Daemon’s eyes widened in surprise at the realization of what he had just done. He blinked a few times, and then his dark green eyes narrowed in anger.

“No, I blocked it with my hand. You will tell no one what you saw Malfin. Albus saw nothing and neither did you.” Daemon said.

“But I have to tell Father. I can see flows and … and you’re a wielder. You can go train with the Stalwarts.”

“I said No Malfin.” Daemon shouted. He grabbed the rock and hurled it at Malfin’s face. A large gust of wind swept through the courtyard, and the rocked smashed against the palace wall. Malfin could see the glow around Albus fade away. Albus can wield too? I have to Father about this. I can see flows!

“M’lord, the Council of the Five is ready for you.” A King’s Shadow announced. Malfin entered the ritual room, and all heads snapped to him. There were looks of horror on all but Daemon and Albus’s faces.

“My King, you cannot try and defy the natural orders of things. This is an abomination of Life.” The Mender protested.

“The natural order is what I chose it to be. I am the High King. I am the Speaker of the Truth. I expect no further protest. We do this, and we do it now.” Malfin said.

The Council of the Five reluctantly took their positions, each on the appointed mark of the pentagram drawn on the floor. Malfin stepped into the center. He examined all of the Wielders and gave a nod to begin. Each moved into their positions, and the golden glow of the flows enveloped them. Stance after stance, flow after flow, the Wielders labored. After almost a half hour of arduous work, they started the final stance. Malfin saw Daemon adjust his flows out of the corner of his eye. Malfin snarled, but the flows prevented him from even speaking. Albus adjusted his stance to one Malfin had seen many times when they were younger, Tornado on the Plain. Winds whipped through the room, tearing down tapestries and flinging chairs. Chaos erupted as each of the Wielders altered their stances, seeking to gain control of the room.

Daemon has doomed me.

Stones tore from the wall and ripped through the room and wind howled. Stone rooted Malfin’s feet to the floor and began to creep up his boots. A dark cloud formed over Malfin. Icy rain pelted everyone in the room. Lava erupted from the floor. Trees sprouted and entangled everyone into their final stances. The stone had crept up to Malfin’s chest by now.

“Curse you Daemon. Curse all Wielders. With Mellan, the Lord of Death as my witness, I curse you all.” Malfin shouted.

A bright light flashed from the cloud above Malfin, and the room went dark. Five bodies lay around Malfin. He tried to move, but the stone locked him in place. The ceiling of the ritual room collapsed, bringing the Palace of the Dawn down on top of him. The last thing Malfin saw was the stone inch over his mouth, and nose, and finally his eyes. All that remained was rubble and a solid stone statue of the last High King of Mithrin.

Mithrin lay in ruins. The once great city smote by earth, fire, wind, and water. A wave of flows blasted out of Mithrin and struck the King’s Wood to the south. The trees were petrified, along with anything touching them. The mountains north of Mithrin were blackened, as if thrust into the heart of a raging fire. A great lake dominated the valley in which Mithrin had once stood. Malfin’s Retribution, it was called. Almost every person in the city of Mithrin lay dead, and all Wielders were smote where they stood. The Golden Age of Mithrin, the Age of the Wielders, was over.