Feast
and
Farewell

At the great marble and ivory table, covered with the finest linens of her realm, Lorini sat upon a silver-colored chair. Its legs were fashioned after the likeness of pearl-gray clouds, and reached down to globes at the bottom, each a perfect wrought replica of Atlanton Earth in each of its four ages. At the top of this chair was a haze, almost a fine mist, but done by metalsmiths of the elves in a precious, rare metal that looked like silver in some light, gold in another.

On the table, goblets of this same metal stood before each person, and plates of fine china reflected back the light from the huge chandeliers which held no flame but gathered the sunlight outside and brightened it in finely wrought, many-sided surfaces. A great fare was set out, great dishes topped with herbs and fruit, and flower-sweet vessels of honey and bread, and beside each one there, a silver pitcher filled with the wine of Lorini, which washed one clean of illness or age, and gave each one who drank it renewed strength and hope.

Upon Lorini’s right hand sat Greyfax, and at her left, Cybelle, arrayed in a glistening, shimmering white gown, tied at the waist with a bolt of ancient pearls. Upon her head was the Trident of Cypher, a plain silver band with a single cluster of five stars, each a different color. Lorini was attired the same, without the belt of pearls. Her gown was adorned only with a brooch, a stone set m the mystery of some unknown frame, and it changed color from time to time, brilliant scarlet to deep, soft blue, or a light shade of pale ivory silkiness. This was the Stone that sang the music of the Fifth Kingdom, the secret from the Arkenchest that she held.

Froghorn was next to Cybelle, and the rest of the long table was lined with many guests, elfinfolk, and a few men.

Cybelle was whispering to Froghorn behind her napkin.

“Why must you part so soon? You promised you would entertain me with your travels, or show me a new magical form or two.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, my lady, but we really must go. It’s something very important, I can assure you, or else nothing in the imagination could separate me from your divine company.

I accept your polite excuses, but I wish my mother had no sister, and I wish everyone would stop all this nonsense. Why can’t everyone just live as we do here? Then we might find time to sit down to a conversation that wouldn’t be interrupted by leaping off in who knows what direction.”

My fairest, wonder of beauties, if only that were possible. I would be the most eager and obedient servant of a world given over to those peaceful pursuits.”

Greyfax from the corner of his eye saw the crestfallen look that played across his young friend’s face.

“Here, here, Master Fairingay, what troubles you so that your mouth tries to touch your toes?”

“Nothing of import. A passing thing, I suppose,” Froghorn replied, a little loudly.

“Cybelle, have you done something to discomfort our guest?” Lorini frowned the slightest displeasure as she spoke.

“No, Mother.”

“It’s my own doing, my lady. I beg your forgiveness.” He laughed easily, putting his disappointment aside. “I’m not the one to breach the merriment of this company by sour humor. Let us have a little music, and I’m sure all will be well with me.”

Without a word or motion from their mistress, there sprang into the room three elves, instruments readied, who began to weave the air into beautiful, moving patterns of sound and light. Having finished their meal, Froghorn took Cybelle’s arm, led her to the large open space in the center of the chamber, and began to dance.

“Come, old graycloak, dance me a stanza,” laughed Lorini to Greyfax, and after much grumblings of protest, he gave his arm and the two entered the dance, gliding softly upon the music, away into harmony and peace, and soon others joined and formed a gently moving whirl and circle of fair faces and flowing bodies, and the room filled with the music, and outside the very air moved as if dancing, and joyful laughter rose and fell upon the strings and reeds of the instruments, until at last the farthest corner of Cypher was a pattern work of golden music, sparkling and shining in the bright sun, and light spread from the four corners of Lorini’s realm into the darkness beyond, and the winds there carried the music far and wide, gladdening the hearts of all who heard, filling them with deep peace and courage, and wonder.

As the music of Cypher played, and the lady Lorini danced with Greyfax, and Cybelle with Froghorn, and all the others in the hall were woven into its spell, all the lands in Atlanton Earth brightened, the darkness driven away for a short while. A troubled peace fell over the warring armies, of Atlanton Earth, men turned to men as brothers, and for a time, a part of the long-distant past reappeared, and the forces of the Dark Queen retreated into the World Between Time.

Yet as the dancers spun slowly down, and the music stilled itself into echoes, then silence, the darkness came forth once more, and a gray shroud enveloped the world once again.

Greyfax stood ready by An’yim, speaking in a low voice to Froghorn.

“I have a task at hand that will take me still farther, Fairingay, and I can’t return as yet with you to my old friend, the Dwarf. But I want you to go to him, in a guise that won’t arouse suspicion as to your true identity, and stay with him until I return. You are not to let him out of your sight, understand? And you are not to reveal to mm who you are.”

“What use can I be if I tell him nothing?” Froghorn was experiencing a touch of misgiving.

“Your use would be of no use at all if it were to be known that the elder of Fairingay were dwelling with a dwarf. We might as well send a message to Her Darkness saying, look, here you are. Take it. Sometimes, Master Fairingay, what little sense you possess could be drawn on the head of a riding quirt and flung to the wind like a feather.”

“All right, as you wish, Grimwald. But I still don’t fathom the reason behind it, and I wish you’d open your mouth as to what’s going on in your head.”

Greyfax, mounted and posed to ride, looked kindly down upon Froghorn.

If I did that, old chap, I’m afraid I’d have less of a feather to throw to the wind than you. But good cheer, and courage, old fellow, and keep the Light. When next we meet, I’ll have much to tell you, and can perhaps bring more clarity to my speech than now. Greyfax paused. “Unless, of course, my hour-long rambling might bore you.”

And touching An’yim lightly with a hand, Greyfax disappeared, leaving Froghorn alone in the courtyard. He sighed aloud, called Pe’lon, and quickly mounting, drew under the tower shaped like an ivory form of a great bird in flight and raised his hand to Cybelle, whose fair face was drawn and streaked with tears. The sorrow he saw there bit deeply into his heart, and he resolved to do quickly whatever must be done, to dry forever the tears of Cybelle, and, indeed, remove the reasons for sadness anywhere that now struck at the very heart of gladness and peace. For if even here in Cypher the seeds of the Dark Queen were sown, then the final hour must, as Greyfax and Lorini agreed, be rapidly drawing all into the last, great swirling vortex of destiny. All that remained to be seen was whether the great darkness could swallow them all, fair and foul alike, or whether the Sun of Windameir would once more shine upon all of Atlanton Earth, and all that existed of it, or upon it, or as a part of it.

With a soft promise that stung Cybelle’s heart with the dagger of his parting, Froghorn whispered to Pe’lon, and horse and rider disappeared from her sight for a time that might be called a century in the worlds where the passing of time was marked by clock or calendar.