The Word Cloud

Prologue

            The dense grey clouds overhead swirled dangerously. The rumble of thunder rolled across the sea. The waves grew higher and lashed angrily at the cliffs edge. Elana was suddenly aware of the familiar feeling rising up inside of her. The impending exhilaration of what was to come. Her breath felt heavy in her lungs, she could feel the thickness of the air, pressing down on her. She could taste the metallic taint it carried as she inhaled and felt its moisture upon her lips.

            As she stood with her hands pressed against the cool stone of the castle wall she began to feel the rush of air from the ocean below. She could taste the brine of the sea as its spray hit her face. The foam bubbled over the rocks beneath her. Her white blonde hair danced behind her as it was swept from her face by the fierce wind. Elana closed her eyes as the rumbling rose to a deep menacing growl. As she opened them once more, she saw the bright blue flicker of lightening over the horizon. The sensations suddenly intensified with the crack of electricity.

            Pulses of prickling energy emanating from her brow flowed swiftly, like a white hot river through her body. Her gaze dropped to the beautiful ring that adorned her slender finger. The silver white metal glinting as the lightening forked to the sea. The gemstone set inside was mesmerizing, it looked almost liquid as it shimmered and swirled in its ornate setting. It radiated a faint, eerie glow in the storms darkness.  Her fingers reached up to her throat as she unhooked her heavy velvet cloak, dropping it fluidly to the ground. She gently removed the elaborately embroidered slippers from her feet, the golden thread sparkling in the light slashing down from heavens.

            Placing her feet upon the jagged, damp rock she began to climb the stone wall that edged the castle’s balcony. Clinging tightly against the power of the roaring wind, she continued her dangerous ascent. Pulling herself onto the top, she stood unsteadily on her feet as the winds rushed past. The suppressed emotions began to rise within her, bubbling furiously to the surface, entwining with the roaring of the storm. The swirling winds carried them rapidly towards the sky as she raised her arms above her head, fingers outstretched.

            As Elana’s eyes closed she could feel the familiar hot, sting of tears. As they spilled on to her silken, white cheeks the rain began to fall heavily in ice cold sheets. The storm now engulfed the horizon as far as the eye could see. Her white nightdress billowed like a sodden sail as it was whipped by wind and rain. As she was swallowed by the storm, feeling its enormous power course through her, she fed it with her pain, hatred and fear.

            The images of what had passed flashed through her mind as the lightening thrashed angrily to the ground. She saw the fierce insanity in his eyes. She saw the faces of her brothers. Her mother’s anguish. She felt the pain of his selfish betrayal. The cold of their skin on her fingers. Elana, overwhelmed by the agony that rushed from within, parted her lips and screamed as loud as her voice would allow into the chaos surrounding her. But her voice was merely drowned in the thunderous symphony of the storm.

            For a time she was lost in the power of the storm, feeling the hot prickles of energy under her skin, the very cells of her body vibrating. Her thoughts were gone as she was consumed and her body felt a momentary peace. Suddenly she felt something grasp her ankles, tearing her mind from its place of solitude.

            “Elana Reàdarmus what are you doing? Come down!” a woman’s voice exclaimed.

            Elana wobbled dangerously at the intruders surprise and felt two hands grab her tightly around her waist, dragging her to the ground.

Chapter 1 - The Seer
           
             King Regalus Readarmus was a pleasant man considering he was after all a King. His father had been a great king, who had led their people through times of immense troubles. There had been many wars between the races of the Great Planes and even within the Kingdom of Elindor. Despite the wars that had ravaged the lands, as a young prince the King hoped to bring an age of peace to them. His mother Liliana, or Nana as she was now called, came from a well established aristocracy. They had no fortune of course but her wild and daring attitude along with her beauty attracted the attention of his father. 

            Regalus looked nothing like his mother, but in temperament they were very much the same. They say behind every great man is a great woman and in his father’s case this was very true. Liliana always managed to persuade him to see things as she did. She chose her words carefully and could sway the King without him even knowing there was reason to be swayed. After his father’s death Regalus had married before taking the throne. His father had given his aid the task of finding Regalus a suitable wife. As much as he protested to Queen Liliana, he eventually agreed to meet her. It was his father’s dying wish that he be married.

            Her name was Freya Cariad. She lived in Elindor near the edge of Forana forest with her family. She was an incredible beauty with copper coloured curls that covered her back. Her father had many Elven friends and often took her to visit them. As a result she was extremely fond of this race and even spoken fluent elfish. Regalus was pleased with this acceptance of others and captivated by her warm nature. They had married in a lavish ceremony and invited members of each of the royal families to join the festivities. Within weeks Freya had fallen pregnant with their first child and soon after followed five more healthy sons.

            The King’s brow furrowed as he learned over his large oak desk, scribbling away on pieces of parchment.

            “Come now Regalus, do not get so aggrieved” said a woman from beside the fire.

            “I cannot abide by this alliance Freya! After all of the attacks to the miners. Humans and Dwarves killed for Craag ore” spat Regalus.

            “I know the costs to the Kingdom and the people have been high, but we must look to the future now” Freya replied, rubbing her rounded stomach.

            “I know this more than anyone. But they are not to be trusted. I feel it.”

            The King closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose with finger and thumb. Freya draped herself across his shoulders and gently kissed his neck.

            “We must be seen to be willing to forgive Regalus, if not all is lost.”

            She straightened, taking his face in her gentle hands. Freya’s expression hardened.

            “You know the darkness in our world grows deeper. The disturbances worsen. Other World breaches are becoming reality, no longer myth. We need to be as one.”

            Gazing sternly into her husband’s eyes all was understood.

            “You are right my love, we must try. I shall send a declaration by horse tonight. All crimes by the Goblin people will be forgiven and they will be accepted back onto the committee. They shall have all the political power that the four have.”

            She smiled sweetly at her husband and kissed his forehead.

            “I must get some rest now. Try not to stay awake too late”.

            She walked gracefully across the room and twisted the heavy brass door knob.

            “Goodnight dearest” Freya said sweetly.

            “Goodnight my love” Regalus replied with a smile, despite his concerns.

            A guard bowed as she floated past into the darkness, her hair glinting russet in the gloom.  The King’s brow furrowed as he wrote quickly by candle light, his quill scratching feverishly, inches from his nose. He began to melt a stick of wax above the flame, dripping the blood-red wax in splotches onto the parchment. Plunging his heavy, golden ring into the wax, he marked it with the royal crest.

            Regalus strode to the door and called into the corridor for the royal messenger. He handed the messenger, a young slim man, the sealed declaration.

            “Take four guards. Ride to the Goblin village and do not stop until you get there. Give this to Grindleward and nobody else.”

            He quickly bowed and replied “Yes your majesty!” before striding away.

            The King returned to his dimly lit study. Pictures in gilt frames filled the spaces not covered by books and maps. As he slumped down into his chair, he sighed deeply, resting his head in his hands. Exhausted from the day’s events the King quickly drifted into a deep sleep, only to be awoken by a frantic knocking at the heavy oak door.

            Regalus rose quickly from his desk, removing a dagger from its sheath at his ankle.

            “Enter!” he yelled, his eyes not moving from the door.

            The door swung open gently, creaking on its hinges. Stood in the doorway was a hunched, frail figure, cloaked in black. As it floated towards the King he drew a deep breath.

            “Avarah is that you?!”

             A cracked, hoarse voice rattled “Yes my Lord it is only I”.

            Two twisted, knotted hands reached up to lower the hood. A mass of matted gray hair surrounded a weathered face with thin, crinkled skin. The old woman’s dark eyes glinted dangerously in the gloom. The King took an involuntary step backwards.

            “Must you come looking like one of the nine?!”

            “Oh I am sorry my Lord!” she said as she drew a ragged breath “I know this appearance does not please you...”

            The woman closed her eyes and a low hum filled the room, shaking the instruments and ornaments strewn across the desk. As she looked up her face began to transform before the King’s eyes. Her hair darkened to a silky raven black, spilling in waves past her waist. The deep wrinkles in her paper-like skin smoothed as it filled with a dewy, soft youth. She looked quite beautiful, especially in the soft candle light. She had the same beetle black eyes as she smiled with dazzling pearl teeth.

            “Is this better my Lord?”

            Avarah assessed her image in the long mirror next to the fireplace.

            “I will never understand why you think this image beautiful, but if it makes you less... anxious”.

            She turned to face Regalus, removing a velvet pouch from within her cloak.

            “If the nine found out I was bringing the sacred stones before you I would be done for! But what I have seen is of great importance to the lands, to all our futures.”

            She placed a stone bowl at her feet, chanting words that were not understood into their surroundings. There was the sudden crackle of magic as the bowl began to rise from the ground, spinning slowly as it bobbed in the thickened air. Regalus took another step back as he struggled to breathe in the humid room, staring at Avarah with a mixture of intrigue and fear.

            Placing the velvet pouch in both hands she raised her arms above her head before emptying its contents into the bowl. Taking the bowl in both hands she continued to chant as she swirled the contents, the sound of clinking stone mingling with her mysterious crooning. Suddenly she spilled its contents onto the floor around her feet. Small stones of different sizes, ornately carved with strange characters lay strewn on the wood.

            Avarah’s black eyes grew large as she looked from stone to stone.

            “I have foreseen a great darkness my Lord. A great darkness that will fill the land. The nine will have a hand in the peril brought to us. They will bring about the end of days. Ragnarok will come. There is only one hope that we will prevail my Lord. It lays in the hands of your unborn child, your seventh child! A choice will be made, that may tip the balance.”

            Regalus stared at the stones that lay on his study floor, overwhelmed by what he had been told.

            “Are you sure of this Avarah?” he asked.

            “My Lord have I ever misguided you? We are all in danger now, even us seers of the islands. Maybe even the nine...” She replied drawing her eyebrows into a concerned frown.

            “My sons are strong, the eldest is growing into a fine warrior. I’m sure he can defend the lands. Will my seventh son be stronger than Thorn? Will he be the greatest warrior our lands have seen? I fear he must face dangers our world has never known.” he sighed.

            “I do not know my Lord, I only see what the stones chose to show me. I only know that our very existence may depend on this child!” Avarah replied.

            “Very well! Please leave me now. If there is any news send word straight away!” He barked.

            “As you wish your Majesty” she replied in a bow, sweeping quickly from the room, her raven hair turning to brittle grey as her skin began to crease.

            As the King undressed for bed his head swam with thoughts of the future, of his Kingdom, but most importantly of his family. He thought of all that was expected of his baby, sleeping peacefully in its mother’s womb. As he climbed into bed with Queen Freya he laid a protective hand on her stomach, holding them both closely to him as tried to sleep.