Dawn of Dusk
Chapter 6: Arborlea

Landif waited until he had total quiet. The only sound he could hear was his feet as he paced the floor, his breathing in his own ears and, an occasional cough. He waited a few more minutes for effect and began.

“As a people we have been using magic more and more since our magicians learned how to block the spell of the Goblins during the second war of the races. Men with their magic could never have blocked the spell because the goblins called on the elements of the bodies to act; the spirits were no longer there.

When we found out that the power animating the corpses was similar to ours, we realized that we had fallen years behind in magic development. As a people, we advanced out magic research and development to a level of almost dangerous proportions. We even lost a few of our best magicians to experimental magic that shouldn’t have been attempted.

Every Elf was given basic training in magic. We were taught how to use it, how to control it, how magic works on the elements, and so forth. After we have given the Elf children, their training, they get a standard group of spells that they can use in their lives. From there each Elf is on his or her own to learn or develop whatever magic they want. They can take classes from the masters, learn family spells, or develop them themselves.

In our desire to never again be caught unprepared, we have rushed headlong, throwing caution to the wind in an effort to catch up to the Goblin magical abilities. We succeeded, in fact from all we have been able to determine from our scouts and goblin spies, the goblins have almost no magic and are developing none to speak of. Only a few goblins are even interested in magic. Most of them are only concerned with their next meal and where to sleep tonight.

We have known this for six or seven Elven generations, yet, have we slowed our magical research and development? No, we have increased it, knowing full-well that we would never use much of the destructive abilities that we now have. We have justified our continued study into the dark regions of magic that could only be used for destruction, saying that we are doing it to develop defenses for the destruction; destruction from whom? Men can’t send elemental magic against us, neither can the Dwarves, Gnomes, Giants or Trolls, only Goblins, and they could care less. We must admit to ourselves at last that we have been meddling in dark magic for at least ten generations of Elves because we wanted to.

If Men came against us with their weapons of war and they were winning, would we hesitate to use the destructive forces that we have developed over the last thousand years? I doubt it. In history, no destructive weapon has ever been held back whenever it was perceived as the last weapon that could bring about victory.

If we unleashed such evil destructive forces, could we survive as a race? Or would we then in our own self loathing, turn these weapons upon ourselves in a type of mass death wish. I humbly tell you that I would probably authorize the use of such weapons against our enemies, but I am not sure that I could live with the decision afterwards.

If someone was to raise a golem of rock and send it to destroy us, we would in very short order, turn the golem into something else harmless. We know so many defenses for this destructive magical creature that we would take longer to decide what defense to use, than to employ the defense once chosen.

I have talked at length to our friend Brancil. I feel that while he is indeed a dangerous Elf that he is suffering from a disease called, in the ancient records, Felkarditis.”

Landif paused to let the word sink in. There was a bit of a stir but it quickly quieted. He had their complete and total attention. As long as he stayed on the plan that he had laid out, they should allow him to finish before impeachment proceedings began.

“There are no Felkards in the world that we know of. They were all destroyed by Elves over a thousand generations ago. Did you ever wonder where they came from in the first place?”

Again there was a stir within the room. This one was even more uncomfortable than the one a few minutes earlier. This time it did not die down as quickly and many of the Elves now had their arms crossed and were increasing personal space by stepping away from each other. In their minds they knew what was coming, they just couldn’t stand to hear it.

“Felkards are creatures of devolution. According to the scroll, it begins with social regression, and then comes barbarism. Destruction and degradation are a Felkards reason for existence. They live to hurt and destroy, yet they do it without knowledge of what they are doing.

Felkards are always male. They reproduce by taking an Elven woman by force. A child is almost always a result of such a union. If it a female, it is a normal elf; if it is a male it is a Felkard. A Felkard will be born who is more fierce and dangerous than its father before him. No training, no loving, nothing can stop what has happened to the child. Death is the only answer.”

He took a deep breath and steeled himself for what was about to come. He held up the parchment.

“This parchment was accurate about the story of Hillsofar and Pondelilly; our esteemed guests are proof of that. Their history tells of a similar story. I believe that the story is true, and that Hillsofar and Pondelilly really existed.

There are other things in this parchment. These things I also believe are true. It talks of a disease called Felkarditis. Once infected, an Elf either develops immunity, or the disease becomes fatal.

I believe Brancil, while not the only Elf infected with the disease, is further along in the progression. The disease starts out infecting the mind of an Elf. Those most likely to be affected are those involved in Drachlomar, the Magic of Destruction. Brancil was chief research magician for the Elven Defense League. His job was to develop new ways to use magic to destroy; in short he was a Drachlomancer.”

This time the noise was more than a stir, it was a roar. He knew this time he could not wait for the noise to die down because it wouldn’t on its own. He continued with his voice slightly higher and louder.

“Brancil has Felkarditis. He is now in the advanced stages. He has less and less time as an Elf. Felkarditis changes an Elf into something else. Felkarditis changes an Elf into a Felkard!”

Landif knew he had now crossed the line. The Felkards had been the Elves’ worst enemy. Nothing was more repugnant to an ordered and peace loving society like the elves than a creature that almost looked like an Elf, but was in reality a voracious, rapine animal.

“Brancil took away the life of his friend Forkloor in front of his wife, and then assaulted her. She is now with child.” He raised his voice as loud as he could and said,” It has begun again; we have the knowledge to stop it before it nearly destroys us like it nearly did so long ago. We must be willing and ready to do whatever it takes to stop it.

I know none of you wants to hear this. There may be some in this very room who have been infected. We must take action now. The very existence of our civilization hangs in the balance. If the Elves fall, then the Men and Dwarves would never be able to stand against the barbaric races. To make matters worse, we might even end up joining the barbaric gnomes, goblins, and trolls. Elves could disappear as we know them the females becoming slaves for the Felkard masters having no freedom or equality as we know them, becoming little more than breeders for the Felkards.

Please listen to me; we must act now. It has already begun. If we don’t abandon Drachlomar now, and take steps to isolate and observe those exhibiting unusual behavior, we may be sentencing our children to eternal misery!”

There was a few seconds of quiet as the impact of Landif’s words settled in. When the quiet ended, chaos broke loose. Some Elves were angry, some were scared, some denied that it could be true, and others agreed that Landif must be right.

Glade rose to speak, as much as Landif was loath to do so, he acknowledged him. Glade raised his hands. Landif held his breath; it would be won or lost here.

“I have not been a close supporter of our young king.”

Landif was grateful that he hadn’t used the word kingling. He had been known to use upon occasion of particular disagreement.

Glade continued, “I have been one of, if not the most vocal of the opponents that he has had. He has shown us the parchment, one of which I had not ever seen, yet that in its self is not unusual, there are many scrolls kept hidden, to be used by none but the king and queen. He has told us of the legend and has brought the legend into reality for us here today.” He motioned to Rockledge’s group. “I have often questioned our leader’s wisdom, but, I have never questioned his integrity. I believe that he believes that all of what he has told us is the truth, and I believe that it is possible that what he says is really true. I feel confident enough to want to study the scroll itself to determine its validity. If it is true, then we must act with great haste. We will not know for a few days, but in the mean time, we should start preparing a holding facility to deal with those that may have been infected with this disease.

“I have felt from the beginning that King Landif has far too much inexperienced for the job with which the Gods have blessed him. I have taken it upon myself to guide and direct the king into the correct paths. If he is right about this, then he, and he alone deserves credit, for not only replaceing more of our own race, but also a threat so potentially devastating that it could destroy our very existence. If this proves to be correct, I will withdraw my objection to his being elevated to the throne. I believe that mine is the last one still pending. This will allow him more freedom and flexibility as a ruler than he has here-to-for enjoyed.”

Leavara stood and seconded Glade’s proposal. The whole group responded in the affirmative. In reality, a two thirds majority would be necessary to veto the king. As long as an objection to a coronation from a member of the High Council existed, a King did not have complete authority, he could be over-ruled by eight or more of the High Councilors.

Landif had been over-ruled only three times, once had been when he wanted to send an expedition into the Bermaldine Wastelands. Instead he had sent a few of his personal guard. Since only the king can command his guard, he had not technically gone against the veto placed upon him by the High Council. Since he had been right, no one was throwing any accusations his way tonight. He would hear them though. If Glade did in fact remove his objection to Landif’s rule, then the council would revert to a council of advisors who could voice their opinions but who had no authority to dictate to the king under any circumstances.

Glade had worked to over-rule the will of the king on various points. Landif had begun to suspect that Glade was opposed to Landif’s ideas regardless of how good or bad they were. For Glade to speak out on this issue so completely, in favor of the plan, he had to be just about as scared as Landif was.

The hardest part of all was, the woman that Brancil had raped, was carrying a boy. The doctors had confirmed it and the magicians that had worked on her ratified it. She didn’t want to have it and knew it would be a monster if it was born. It was nearing her fifth week and decisions had to be made. The woman, Belastar, had begged to be allowed to end the pregnancy. Elven children came so seldom, and were needed so badly that the idea of voluntarily terminating a child still in the womb seemed criminal. Under the circumstances it was being considered, and the doctors indicated that there was an essence taken from a tree nearby that would cause her to miscarry, that decision too, would be Landif’s another unpopular one. No matter what he chose, there would be those who would criticize and replace fault those who would believe him wrong. The woman carrying the fetus was begging him to allow it. Only he could legally authorize it and the time to make his decision was running out.

That decision was much easier now that the council was behind him. If they agreed that the parchment was correct, and then it was not an Elf that was developing within her, it was a Felkard, their oldest and most dangerous enemy.