The Chaos Blade - Prologue

Prologue

She screamed. Mixed in the cry was frustration, exhilaration, pain, and victory. The child slid free of her womb, coming to rest fully in the hands of the midwife that served her. She was Kalista Risingmoon, wife of the brother of the King of the Elves.

The healer chanted and a numbing coolness spread over her, soothing the fires that burned within her. The baby, a boy she noticed immediately, was toweled dry and placed in her arms. She smiled at it, elated in the absence of the pain and the pressure she had endured. The newborn baby looked around curiously, making no noise but clearly aware and healthy.

"Kelnozz," Kalista whispered. "I name you Kelnozz Risingmoon, nephew to the King and son of the mightiest elven warrior Viconia has ever seen."

"I see great things for the babe, Milady," a man said, coming from where he stood nearby. He, Kalista, and her husband, Myragordamar, were old friends. Now he was an advisor to the King as well as herself and Myra. "Many hardships await him, but his future will be filled with greatness if he overcomes them."

Kalista frowned, she wanted no hardships for her firstborn. Nonetheless, great responsibility and great power could not be wielded without proper tempering. "Leave us please, I wish to be alone with my son."

The healer looked at her, surprised at her proclamation. He bowed his head respectfully and gathered up his religious items, leaving the room on the heels of the midwife and her assistant. Narellin waited until they left then looked upon mother and son a final time. He nodded and smiled at her. She knew what to do.

Narellin had only just returned to his offices when his assistant gestured to him anxiously. Smiling, Narellin pulled him aside and inquired as to what had him so exasperated.

"Milord, General Myragordamar has returned! You wanted to be notified when he arrived. His armies rode through the gate an hour ago."

Narellin's dark skin paled as he pondered the news. Finally he smiled and thanked the man, then dismissed him. He turned and rapidly strode out of the room heading towards the gate of the palace to find his long time friend.

News at the gate was of the worst sort for him. He turned rapidly, the messenger already forgotten, and headed briskly towards Kalista's chamber again. He reached up to rap on the door when he heard the angry voice of Myragordamar from within.

"My own wife, betraying her kind! What right do you have to this dishonor?" Myragordamar shouted, his muffled voice easily carrying to Narellin.

Narellin pushed open the door and stepped in. He and Myragordamar had known each other since boyhood, centuries long past, and together had met Kalista. It had been an obvious and instant matching in the partnering of Myragordamar and Kalista, her sorcery augmenting his unmatched prowess with a blade in battle. Off the field of battle they supported each other as well, quickly falling in love and letting the natural tide of things carry them away.

"Peace my friends, what troubles you?" Narellin said, forcing a calm mien.

Myragordamar turned to face him, his expression livid. "You! Do you know of this? I return early to find my wife performing dark rites upon my newborn son! She would turn him into one of the forsaken ones that have turned away from the glory and the brotherhood we have!"

Narellin shook his head and looked at Kalista briefly, meeting her pain filled eyes. He blinked once, and she nodded, knowing the course that they must take. Narellin turned back to Myragordamar and shook his head again, feigning surprise. "I knew nothing of the sort! Are you sure of this? How did the campaign go?" Narellin tried to change the subject long enough for he or Kalista to come up with a possible justification. The elven general shook his head and looked away out a window over the graceful arches of the palace and the city below. He stared out the window for a long moment before he answered. "The battle went well, if you can call brother slaying brother a good thing. I have battled all things this world can offer, from demons to dragons, yet none leaves the wound in my soul that slaying my kin has done to me. I fear that even should those who have turned to the darker ways be destroyed or return to us, the damage done to many of us is to great to recover from."

"As for her," Myra gestured towards the woman who was wrapped only in sheets and clutching his son on the bed. "Do not forget that whenever one who has been corrupted is found, I am the judge and executioner. From having seen the foulness of their magic countless times I am forever stained. I can not forget, no matter how long I may yet live. Do not doubt what my eyes have seen, Narellin, you know me to well for that."

Narellin nodded. He understood all to well the lure of power that the dark ways promised. He was a wizard, a master of the arcane arts, the very manifestation of power that the rebels sought."I had but one thing to look forward to when I returned... the love of my good wife and the hope that I would arrive in time to witness the birth of my son," he continued. "But what do I find? My son is born and she is consecrating him to the dark powers that the traitors have turned too!"

Myragordamar turned to her and glared at her. "How long has it been? How long have you played me the fool? How many lives have been lost because you knew my heart and my strategies I would take into battle?"

She shook her head, tears glistening on her cheeks. Kelnozz was cradled tightly against her breast. The baby stared alternately at the sources of noise, trying to reach it's first bit of understanding.

"I know this much, I interrupted your dark rites and will spare the child because of it. Your treachery can not be forgiven, however much I wish it otherwise." Myra strode forward to her bed and pulled Kelnozz from her, prying the hands of the woman who had become a stranger to him from the child. Kelnozz still did not cry out, but instead watched the events unfolding about him.

"Narellin, my oldest and truest friend, take the child please. Make it well and see it gets a proper nursemaid."

"What will you do, Myra?" Kalista moved back and forth on her bed, her eyes wildly jumping from one man to the other and then to her son. The sheets, forgotten, fell about her, entangling her.

"The King's law states that any who practices the dark rights is guilty of treachery and must be slain." Myragordamar said, his voice flat and emotionless.

"You would murder your own wife?" Kalista said, staring at him. She knew the penalty for her actions, but the consequences had seemed so unreal.

"My wife has already been murdered by the insurgents that spread the poison and lies of the dark ways. I do not know who you are," he stated just as flatly.

The tears stopped flowing from her eyes then. She nodded slowly, resigned to her fate. "Treat your son well then, Myra, for he has a powerful fate before him."

Myragordamar looked out the window again, clearly upset at the choice forced upon him. It was more then just the King's law, it was his own as well.

"Myra, I have a suggestion."

The elven general turned to the wizard, a brief glimpse of hope crossing his features. "Speak, Narellin, this moment is very bitter to me and I would have light words to sweeten it."

"If it is as you say, that your wife was assassinated long ago, then this women who is before you is no threat. Send her away, exile her to a secret place where she may do no harm and no harm will come to her. Your wife was beloved by the people, let them mourn her loss and let them celebrate and cherish her...your son."

Both husband and wife looked to the wizard, Myra with his face tight with controlled emotion, Kalista with a stunned expression. Finally Myragordamar nodded, his decision reached.

"Go, Narellin, take my son from here. See to it that my personal guard is sent, I have a long journey ahead of me," the elven champion said.

Narellin bowed his head slightly and whisked Kelnozz out of the room, taking the newborn with him to his own chambers. On the way he sent word that Kelnozz's personal guard were to attend him in his wife's chambers, for something fell was amiss. Back in his own offices he locked himself in his room and stared down at the babe in his arms.

"It's too late to finish the spell your mother began, child, but let me see if there is anything I can do to prepare you for your future," he said, smiling triumphantly. "Perhaps some day, when you are grown and see the natural way of things, we can go and find whatever prison your father places your mother in and free her. Oh, and don't worry about your father, he'll be dealt with soon enough."

Narellin talked quietly, for his own benefit more then child's since Kelnozz was far to young to remember or understand the words. Narellin then began chanting, invoking his magic to determine what he might yet do to the babe. Freshly born but strangely quiet and complacent, Kelnozz chose this time to begin to cry. He kicked out and thrashed his arms as best as his infant muscles would let him, visibly and aurally upset at the magic being gathered about him.

Continued in Chapter 1