Potentially precedes SoK - (Unbound?)Magic has trapped the elves in their lands. Elves who were beyond the Veil and found they cannot pass through the *shadow land*/Veil to return to the trapped Elven cities, forced back to the world of men and hunted. Factions throughout the realm have been trying for years to find paths into & out of the shadow lands. Magic in the world of men remains at the center of division, fomented by many for their own secret/illicit purposes. There are questions among the elves & humans alike; if the magic of the shadow lands is beginning to falter, myth & mystery of any being successfully crossing, motives if any, how it was possible, and the effects. Elven kind is struggling between their races just as the humans are, fights for the future and power, whether to keep the world divided or break the Veil entirely.
No one could say even vaguely how deep or long the land of shadows was. No map that wasn't enchanted could accurately assist travelers in navigating the boundaries. Even with magic, the Veil was alive in its way with a purpose, despite conflicting histories and lore told among all of the races. At a distance, it was an unending forest line off in the far distance with a sea of tall grass and wildflowers. There was an unnatural mist that at all times flowed out of, toward and from the trees. It did not swirl, It did not move. Until it did, depending on how one looked at any particular spot. The closer one got to the tree line, the further it seemed and suddenly the traveler, intended or not, might find themselves within the grove of towering oaks, birch, maple, weirs. The stories of those who'd claimed to reach the tree line ranged from a beautiful fairy garden to a haunted wood of evil and raging spirits. Some of the lies were true, but only by coincidence or claiming another's story. The Veil's magic showed something similar and varied from person to person. Inevitably and in theory, no matter what a person saw, the magic turned them away. The purer the soul, the more beautiful the forest appeared. The darker the heart, the more menacing and hellish. Some who'd legitimately entered and were shown the evidence of their impurity might keep it to themselves- otherwise it might be an admission of evil.
Even the tales of how the Veil and its magics changed from kingdom to kingdom, twisted and changed in the telling by men. The Telling books were Gods knew where and had no bearing on most human lives, or so most thought. The Tellers as whole had supposedly died out over the ages. The closest thing to them were known as The Learned, scholars who lived among the kingdoms writing detailed accounts from their pupils or from their own seats among the royal, churches and trades councils. There were always the Orders of this God or the Learnt from one kingdom or another who had theories or beliefs, rooted in pieces of text. If there were nobility from these kingdoms that believed, they'd kept their silence or among those they could trust. Those with loose lips were dismissed, killed or disappeared, no matter their status - the justifications used were not always the truth, but as with man and their secrets and ambitions, no price was too high to hide their aims. It was the craft of subterfuge and the skill of employing it. Understanding men and how to use them.
The elves were generally less subversive. Their long lives grounded them differently- their reverence for life and its beauties and complexities, far more pragmatic than humans and their short if not short-sighted lives. Elves were far more direct and less likely to lie, so disagreements were considerably straight forward and existential. Was it worth testing the Veil? Should they remain? Could they harness the magics to end it or find passages through? Presuming they could, what of the humans? Would war be inevitable? Did the humans have the magic to destroy the Veil? Did they want to? The Elves lived in a vast cage of beauty. For just as the view from the outside was a vast unending forest wall, it was much the same from the inside even if the wall of magic shifted. Oceans they could not cross. Mountains they could traverse, enter into and out of on the other side, but a force that would drive them one way or another, eventually back to someplace within the borders.
Her strides were long and with each, her memory faltered. Flashes of twirling and twisting deep purple velvet and silk fabrics in glowing light. The deep echoing ring of warning bell. She'd forgotten now why she was running, who she was running from. Where she was. The past was a dream slipping from her consciousness. Ever closer the tree line loomed like a forbidding mountainside. She was tired of holding up her long heavy dress skirt, the trim ruined by mud and grass, the weight of it an increasing burden from the rain and mud clinging to the layers. There was no time to scrape the rain-soaked hair pressed against her face, she wanted nothing more than to be free of all of it.
A hint of guilt for crushing the small violet flowers felt like something within the silence of self that had taken root. She didn't know if she was being drawn or compelled forward, she just kept running. There had to be a reason and that was enough. She looked across the grassy plane so fast and infinite, searching for anyone anything. But never did she look back. And as the forest was suddenly upon her, she had no choice but to slow. How? It was miles away, she wondered as she reached to steady herself aThe trees were close together, close enough that two men could not walk between them together. The grass of the planes was now interspersed with small mounds of moss, tree roots reaching out and intertwined, wildflowers of every color grew in sprouts like little surprises. The air was heavy and thick, the mist catching in her throat with every desperate inhale. She picked her way carefully. The foliage and fog were so thick there was no way to tell the time of day. It reminded her of the last minutes after sunset when the sun gave its last light as defiance against the coming dark. Wherever she'd come from, whatever life she'd lived, she could at least recall the violet blue hue of evening. Despite the deepening shade beneath the canopy, she could see well enough to press on and that would do.
Moving forward now was all that she knew to do. She held her hands to her sides feeling the trees and foliage when she scanned for whomever or whatever she was fleeing. There was no choice now but to take her time, the ground was a dark void, no way to tell if there was a root or patch of thin branches that would not support her. A tinkling of chimes echoed in the distance, seeming to follow a breeze that had felt like a cool rush of silk as it moved over her. She wanted desperately to be free of her garments as they constricted and pressed the cold into her flesh. As she pressed a foot down, a sharp-edged rock rolled to one side, her ankle buckling and twisting under her weight. A flood of embarrassment washed over her only a moment before the pain. She could not let it go despite a certainty that she was not going to be alone for long. She sat up clutching her ankle, swearing to Gods she could not name. The girl put her hand out and down beside her to try to stand- another jagged rock and she barely caught herself before falling on her face. The arrow might not have pierced her chest if she'd fallen. In the shock of it, the pain of her ankle was somehow still worse as hot tears flooded her eyes, blurring her vision in the darkness trying to comprehend the spotted feathered shaft now lodged in her sternum. Instinct raised her left hand, fingers wide. A loosed arrow sped toward it. Time stood still- she closed her hand around it, clasping it though her attention was the dark ground and her injured ankle. Never looking at the shaft she dropped it beside. She reached out with the hand that had been clutching her ankle and put it against the large oak closest. She stroked the bark with her thumb like it was a loved one, imagining the lines and creases of the bark. She was going to die. This was not the worst place to do so. Having no memory meant having no loss to mourn. She didn't remember herself, so no loss there. But this place, it was beautiful and peaceful. That was enough. The world tilted on its axis as sh
***Lord X sat leaning, curious but put out. He'd always known there was an arrogant streak in his best rider, but this went beyond.
Arhus was not hiding his own disapproval for being admonished before the other riders.
"If you're going to fail yourself before them, you will receive the consequences the same way, Rider Arhus." Lord W was losing his patience.
