The blackness seemed to lift from us, all at once. It was a white rock ahead that stood twice as tall as any dark one. It was pointed and sparkling white. The air was light and much easier to breathe. The charred land was now only behind us. The sound of birds filled my ear. It was a pleasant sound that I had heard only a few times before in my life.
This rock was of Pentilin, all of the elves touched it as they walked by, trying to revive their strength. Around the rock was a large amount of flowers, all of different colors, clinging as close to the Pentilin as it could. The flowers were large and smelled of sweet scents. The elves rested around the Pentilin. I expected to feel severe pain, an ache in my body, but the presence of Pentilin did not hurt, it was not a lovely comfortable feeling, but it did not feel terrible.
Some of the elves watched me curiously, expecting to see me double over, screaming for relief. I thought I would too, it surprised me greatly. The regally dressed one came over. "I am the King, Allistair," he said to me. I nodded in acknowledgment. "This is great news that you are not reacting badly to the Pentilin."
"Thank you," I said, my voice shaking slightly. King Allistiar was a curious looking creature; he appeared to have everything that comes with kingship. He had stress in his eyes, a sadness that followed him. His eyes were bright, though, hopeful and realistic. He climbed into the cart and sat across from me.
"What is your name?" He asked me.
"Kiena,"
"Well, Kiena, tell me about yourself while we are here,"
"I am part Slavinican and part nomad. I worked for Barzilla as a slave in his household..."
He nodded slowly, "Do you believe what Barzilla believes?"
"I do not know how I could if I do not even know what his ending goal is. I believe he just likes to kill." That was how I felt although I was not sure I was making myself sound uneducated or not. I desperately wanted to sound smart, although I was not smart, educated or did I really know what was going on in the world or in this situation currently.
"That is a good response," Allistair said, "Do you know why you have been spared?"
"They said it was because I had information, and because I gave myself up,"
"Yes, that is correct, when we return to Aylwin; I want you to tell me everything that you know,"

What did I know? It was all blurry; for the most part what was important that I knew was inhibited. I was almost transformed into a Tier, but because of the Slavinican blood in me it was halted. Many to most Tiers lose their memory during the transformation, but I did not go through the entire thing, only the first half to make sure I wouldn't die during the rest. I did go through the fasting for three days period, only drinking stagnant water that tasted utterly putrid, and no food at all. There was a gas-like smoke in the air that caused me to feel nauscious and my thoughts to be unrecognizable.
I thought through what was in my memory although little of it there was. I feared that if I did not have the information that they wanted I would be killed.

Ashling Forest was the elves forest; it always belonged to Caval Elle. The essence of it seeped out and into this forest, causing the ancient looking trees to have an odd beauty to them. None looked fully real, but instead like a dream. They stood tall and perfect, smooth and yet ancient with a youthful charm of what help vigor in it, strength.
The forest was elegant in many fashions, so lovely and there was a good feeling all over us. The elves were singing and happy, but only to a point. It was impossible, I felt, for them to be completely happy. They were in a melancholy daze from losing their home, their world. Relocation for creatures that do not adapt well is not an easy task. I imagined that men would take the relocation with ease, but elves were slow to everything except for at the moment reaction time. It had been over one hundred years before the elves actually retaliated for their loss. It had amazed me that they had pulled on this long without acting out their anger. Only when Barzilla's army came into Caval Elle to push them out did they react, and even then it was only for a short period of time. Barzilla had everything planned out, except for the fact that no black magic could survive in Caval Elle because of the high density of Pentilin metal and rock.
The elves were well trained in the art of war and defense and offense, but they were peaceful, they hated to use their skills for destruction. The nomads were their enemies now, although once semi-peaceful peoples they now were vicious creatures, their minds well enslaved by Barzilla's word. They were ready and willing to do anything, especially die for their master.
It amazed me how creatures who were once their own group, although outcasts of all other races, they did not like the other creatures in the world, pillaged and stole from villages of men, but they hardly ever killed. They lived in nomadic groups; hence the name of their kind is the nomads, mostly in the northern areas of Ellmere and Albridge. The Northern Grey Hills, now void of nomads, used to be filled with them, with rich tents filled with stolen goods. They were intelligent, educated creatures, to an extent, with craft and custom too. An ancient race they were, although any strain of true nomad no longer exists as three different kinds exist now. The Slavinica’s bred purely as slaves for the purpose of nomads and dark ones. The dark ones are loosely associated as a few hundred years in the making, crossing Rykers and nomads together made rough, tall and strong creatures called dark ones for their pale skin, dark hair and blackened eyes, which have bled through into most of the general nomad groups and Slavinica's. The nomads now, had been bred somewhat with Rykers to create creatures more inferior to the dark ones but above the Slavinicas.

The air became lighter and happier as we were approaching Aylwin. Kirvan picked me up by the arm and shoved me out of the cart. I fell and hit my face to the ground. I struggled to get my footing as I was yanked up viciously. I coughed as I had swallowed some mud. I could hardly take in the view as the door opened to what appeared to be a well made home and I was shoved into a tiny little room with my hands still bound. I attempted to sit up but ended up using my elbows and the wall to make a successful effort.
The room was small and square, the back of the room was a window, the ground had but a wooden floor and a carpet. A chair sat near the door which had a barred window. There was no food, no water, and I was very in need of both.
I stood and looked out of the window, watching Allistair addressing his people. He spoke in a singing voice, exhausted I lay down in the room on the carpet and attempted sleep.

The door was opened; I was groggy, only woken by the person who had kicked me awake. It was Kirvan ordering me to stand up. I did as I was told, hardly able to see now, my eyes cloudy and I was cringing from the pain in my bruised side. Angrily he cut my binds, shoved me back on the ground and placed food near me, and then the door was slammed shut.
I ignored all pain, too happy to see food. I ate and drank quickly, worried that they would take it away from me. I noticed how delicious and rich the food was although I knew it was nothing compared to what it could be. I went back to sleep with delight, rubbing my side.
I woke again, later in the day, although still day it was. There were a few people arguing in the adjacent room which just happened to be the king's study. I noticed that there were three figures, two of which were Allistair and Kirvan. The third was an elf by the name of Aeduuin, and advisor to the king who had stayed behind from battle. They were yelling and one of them pointed to the room I was in, I ducked down so they wouldn't know I was trying to listen although it was difficult to understand what they were saying through the accent.
Kirvan opened the door and dragged me out by my hair, "Hey, hey, hey!" Allistair ordered and I was dropped. I rubbed my head, it was stinging and burning. "Why did you do that, Kirvan?"
"Why do you think, my king? She is a dark one!"
"No I'm not," I said under by breath, "I'm a slave, a Slavinica,"
He picked me up by my throat and called me a liar to my face. "Are you trying to kill her?" Allistair demanded.
"Well not yet, I'm not, once she tells us what she knows, then I'll decide,"
"No, you will not, I will decide that."
I was in pain now, feeling that my body was attacking all of my nerves. I closed my eyes, using all of my strength to stand although the idea of sitting could be possibly painful also. "I... I do not know much..." I admitted, suddenly yelling at myself for what I had said.
"What?" Kirvan screamed.
"I... well... there is this gas thing that was in the room while he was putting me through the transformation and it is supposed to erase memory, so a good portion of it is blurry."
Kirvan through his fist down on a table and left the room. The other two were much calmer, almost as if it was uncaring. "Please come with us," Aeduuin said Allistair put his hand on my back to lead me out of the home. The light was bright ahead. "We will go to the brook and walk,"
I nodded; I feared I would be killed while out here. They just wanted me out of the home.
"I apologize for Kirvan's behavior," Said Allistair, "He is emotional about the times,"
"Thank you for the food," I looked down to my feet, feeling past terrified a this point in time. There had to be something that they wanted me out here for, whether or not that was good or bad I did not know. I wanted it to be good, that I would be accepted but I knew that would not happen no matter where I went in the Northlands.
"You are very welcome," Said Allistiar, "I hope it satisfied you,"
"Of course," I said suddenly. "I apologize that I will not be able to supply a great deal of information. I do know-"
"Ah, ah, ah, not now, while we are here," Allistair hushed me, "We were reaching the brook. I want you to see it,"
I had heard of the Ashling Brook before, Barzilla had spoken of it. It was filled by water elves, which were more like spirits than physical beings. That idea scared me.
I could see the water ahead of us, trickling with a sparkling stream. There were transparent figures around the water and in the water and the water went through them. They looked to Allistair curiously. Allistair greeted them and they surrounded us. They had faces, yes, although still as if they were ghosts and ghosts they could have been. Nobody could be touched, a hand could go right through them, but they did speak, but I did not know how.
One of them placed their hand lightly on me for it to not fall through. It looked me in the eye, "Hello," It said to me.
"Hello," I answered back.
Allistair took my arm, "We must leave,"

Around were white deer, grazing in the forest, watching us calmly. A single white stag stood in the middle, tall, and his eyes were on me.

I was given a chunk of bread and a thin soup to eat. Allistair was pouring over maps in his study. I could see the strain on his face, even from the window. His eyes were those of a grave old man awaiting an inevitable death, but his face was that of a young, but wise monarch. He had a look of loss on his face, like a loved one, more than Caval Elle was taken from him. He was going to fight for vengeance, but all know that vengeance brings little more than more bloodshed and sorrow.
The death of so many of his people in the raid, both as elves, and those who had been transformed into Tiers was rather haunting. He'd mumble 'It had to be done.' I partially agreed with his rationalization. If they did not attack Barzilla, Barzilla would have soon been strong enough to wipe them out all together.
"Kiena," I heard, "Open the door," Allistair said in a deep, amused voice. I did slowly open the door and stood in the threshold. "What is it you want to know?"
I mustered up my voice and asked, "Why are you so sad? What is it you dwell upon?"
"I dwell upon a lot. A great deal has been taken from my people,"
'What about you?" I asked, hoping to get my answer.
He sighed heavily and put his manuscripts to the side, "Have you seen the statue by the gate, Kiena?"
I could vaguely remember it from being dragged inside by Kirvan. "Yes," I stated, thinking of the figure of the female elf looking to the ground.
"My queen," He said with thought, "She was, Barzilla killed her for his personal entertainment and pleasure. There was no reason for her to die, she was peaceful."
"That is terrible,"
"Yes it is, but it is in the past. The focus is now on regaining Caval Elle, if that is possible. There is no saying how bad the damage is to our land. It may have recovered, or it could have died. I believe that it could be fine without us tending its most lands would be, but the invasion and slaughter could have been a death sentence for the land itself," I nodded with reluctance to his monologue, "I fear what war could do to civilization, especially at such a level, and yet, if it doesn't happen, the result could be worse. There is a balance that must be closely monitored, and the balance is now undone. There is no more good than bad, it is now a fight for bad to completely dominate good to the point that good can no longer do its job. Do you understand?"
"I believe so,"
"I apologize that I cannot make it any clearer, it is difficult even to me to understand how it got to this point. It surprises me that my king was all but blind to what was boiling up in Ebonwood before it happened. We knew something curious had presented itself to us. The nomads were attempting to create some sort of dominatingly strong race to destroy elves and enslave humans. Their only reasoning is revenge, and only revenge. I do believe that how the nomads were treated in elder times was not very acceptable, they were treated as second class beings, but they were not so kind to others. Destroying homes and stealing personal belongings is not tolerated behavior and Barzilla preaches that they will act like they will as long as they are treated as they are. There is no pleasing unless we let them destroy us like pests. Then there is a slight chance of them being happy, but Barzilla never will rest. Avarice is but a part of him. I fear that unless someone, or something kills him, it will never end,"
"Kill him?" I almost laughed at his comment, "You cannot, nothing can. I would think that you would know that of course,"
"There is always something," A hopeful Allistair said, "Always," Then his eyes flickered my way, "Tomorrow I will show you something,"

I went back to the room I called my own and lay down. I could still see the faint flicker of candle light and the shuffling of aged papers and parchment. Eventually he released himself to the necessity of rest.

I stood outside on the porch, clinging to a shawl given to me by one of the servant girls. I cherished it as soon as it was in my possession. I was told to wait for Allistair. I awed at a square garden. In the exact center was an outcrop of darkened Pentilin rock with a tree atop it, roots surrounding, reaching for the ground. From the outcrop of rock came four streams which I assumed became the four rivers of the Northlands, the Grievecc, which ran northwest, the Bygrain, northeast, the River Ashling, southwest, and Pallan, southeast. In each of the eight sections were perfectly measured rows of fruit trees. It was a symbol of goodness, life and fertility. Colorful it was, clean and well kept.
I felt a touch on my shoulder and turned to see Allistair, "how are you fairing this morning?"
"I am well,"
"I wish to show you the Pentilin Mines if you would come along," I nodded to his request and followed him past a guarded gate and into the gardens. A noticeably wonderful scent hit us, and the sound of birds was quite strong and loud.
We walked along a path of golden cobblestones and side rocks. It was empty of other beings as us. We reached the outcrop of rock. I noticed an opening. Allistair opened what appeared to be a door. We entered, a sudden a strong ache hit me. It was tolerable, though, "How do you feel?" He asked me, I could only shrug.
Although no torches were mounted upon the wall so the long hallway, the Pentilin shone with blue/white light like that of the day. It was a long corridor we were in going at a smooth downhill slope. I had never seen so much Pentilin in my life. "This is the only piece of land retained from Caval Elle. The army was not able to stay in long enough to seal off the mine itself. I wonder why you are able to be in here."
"I do not know," I said truthfully, proud of the fact I was able to stand.
"I have heard that Slavinicas do not have dark magic in them, as do Barzilla's nomads and dark ones,"
"I do not know, they do not talk much and if it was any different, I am not I would be able to tell," I smiled, a bit embarrassed, "But I believe you are right," I added.
"Is it true that before Tiers are created that any remaining magic is purged? I have been told that by my people."
"Yes,” I said, happy to know the answer to something finally, "That is true,"
"Than there is very little in you to cause a bad reaction. See how quickly that was figured out?"
I nodded as we continued to walk. There was a very bright light waiting. "That is the Tellsen workshop," The King said. I had heard of the small, pixie like creatures before but never laid eyes on one.
We entered the room and saw about ten to twelve Tellsens working at benches working with the Pentilin. "These are my most trusted workers." The King said proudly. "They are quite skilled and very diligent, but not at all boring. They are childish and mischevious at times. There is always something going on with them," It was sweet how he spoke about them, "These are peaceful creatures, uninterested in war, strife or anything with the term bad following it. I do love them dearly. It absolutely broke my heart to see them pushed out of their homes so senselessly. I am grateful that they were able to so seamlessly adapt. I believe that they are happy now. They rebuilt quickly within a year. My people are still struggling with rebuilding. It is like we cause ourselves to be miserable by reminding ourselves that this loss will haunt us for a great deal of time," I nodded, trying to process what he was saying although the Pentilin was getting to me now. I was feeling increasingly weak.
"There is one more thing I must show you," He said with a smooth voice.
Through a well painted stone door we moved. It was a bit darker, and a large grim room. On the walls, all around the circular shaped room, were statues of past monarchs, then there were, tall, wise and grave. The most recent was Vortigern, son of Velten, "Is that our father?" I asked.
"Yes, one of the longest lasting of the five kings," I nodded, only now noticing in the dim light that the other five were queens.
A massive painting stood above the door. It showed the loveliness and perfection of Caval Elle, the floating gardens, beautiful streams and culture. It showed a tree, a tree being in the Lands Above, its roots in Caval Elle. The roots of the tree surrounding the outcrop of rock were in the walls. "That is the door to Caval Elle," Said Allistair, a heavy sigh escaping him and his eyes were pasted to the door.
"I does not look blocked," I said reaching out to touch it.
Suddenly Allistair took m hand, "Do not do that! Do not be foolish, it can and will hurt you if there is not a sufficient dark magic in you." He shook his head, "Let us leave,"
I was hurried out of the mine. I felt relief once out in the air. IT was easier to move, although the weakness had not left. We moved toward the home and was greeted by a young, female elf, "Hello, Pridwyn," Allistair said to her.
"Sir have you see my Father?" She asked in a bird like voice. She glowed with a perfect brightness.
"No, I have not, but I do believe he said something to me about going north to speak to one of the villages."
"He did not tell me," She huffed and crossed her arms. She looked at me curiously.
"Pridwyn, this is Kiena, she was taken from the raid," On a lovely introduction, I thought.
"Alright, please to me you," Her eyes were striking and strong. She was calm, although suspicious I could tell, I felt that I was harmless. "Pridwyn, if you could, please go find Aeduuin or me, that would be wonderful,"
She nodded, "Yes sir," And ran off, her stride was that of a deer, one on clouds, flying, "She is Kirvan's daughter, his only child," We entered the study and I was sat down. "Most of what we have in here is what was salvaged or remembered from memory, although little it is, compared to what was either lost or destroyed. But it is treasured,"
Aeduuin entered the study and sat beside us, "Hello," He greeted us kindly.
Allistair looked me in the eye, "We wish for you to tell what you know,"
"Starting with what?" I asked, looking around nervously, attempting to gather up all of y thoughts.
"Has Barzilla himself ever told you anything?" Aeduuin asked, his kind eyes reached mine.
"Yes," I said quietly, "He told me how he wanted to find more elves to make Tiers because they more than likely would survive the transformation and were able to hollow out better. He was going to go to the east villages, he said, to capture some,"
Aeduuin stood up, "I will have a messenger put the east villages on guard,"
"Is there anything else he spoke of?" Allistair's voice became tense.
"He often spoke of you," I said, "Very much so. He was going to come and attempt to burn your garden down. I am not sure why, it sounded like a waste of resources and time. Maybe it was to cause a battle. He often spoke of his Tiers, also, " I took in a breath, facing memory, "And he is developing shape-shifters of multiple kinds. He has also found that some Tiers can produce fire, manifest it on their skin. I found that odd and dangerous," I believed that my information was useless as he must know about all of this by now, "He said that the Tiers are becoming a liability to him, so he is developing some sort of bracelet to inhibit abilities while on the wearer. He says there is a blend of Pentilin in it, although how they got Pentilin and how it was blended is beyond me."
"I agree, there is no way for them to acquire the Pentilin, unless taken from weapons in battle. Even then, the concentration of the metal is too strong for any to touch. Unless a nomad was to become desensitized to the material which would be a long and difficult process, one could not do it,"
"They could have taken Tellsens or elves captive," I added, feeling that this topic was not one to be comfortable with.
"I supposed that is a possibility, although I wish not to believe it,"
Aeduuin returned and sat, "The east village has already been attacked in the night. Only two had been taken,"
"How come we were not notified?"
"Eveste said that many followed the nomads to attacks but lost them," Aeduuin sighed, "Eveste is a bit shaken up about it,"
"Who is Eveste?" I asked curiously.
"He is another advisor of mine," Allistair said, "And he cares for my garden. I do not know why he went east," He shook his head, "Send him here, please if you can,"
"I will do my best, sir,"
I looked to Allistair, "What else must you know?"
"Tell me how the transformation process works."
"Well, to begin with, the subject must fast for three days in a little room. There is a smelly steam in that room. I believe it is to make the body more able to take in what is being done to it. I had to assist on a few of these. During the fasting time, Barzilla prepares a red powder that he will put on the subject. He will also say an incantation, but I had to leave for that part. During that time some of the subjects will not be strong enough to survive and they will end up dying. I know Barzilla can only make up to ten Tiers in a day, or finish the process of making them. So it would take him a great deal of time to regenerate his population numbers after a loss of ten thousand head. Unless he shares his ways with another mage, it could take him years, especially to have them also trained," I hoped that would bring a bit of comfort to the king, although unsure I was to that statement. There was a possibility that I was underestimating Barzilla, which was the same thought process that brought Caval Elle's inhabitants to be displaced and the Rykers all killed.
"But not all Tiers were destroyed, remember. Barzilla will retaliate which I fear could be dangerous. We cannot let him step foot even into the Ashling Forest. We must meet him."
"That cannot be soon," I said, feeling now sure of myself, "They are far too wounded. The majority of those under his control are dead. I do know Barzilla well and his is a coward, in ways. He fears that you will return to finish what you have begun. He is hiding from you,"
"Than we should not keep him waiting, although if desperate he could turn his own people into Tiers when they reach a certain age," That thought was not very farfetched.
"Barzilla will take everything it takes to get what he wants, even if thousands die in the process."