The Downfall of Neluria

Word Count: 4293

The Downfall of Neluria

         Argus tried again to let go of the distracting thoughts that ran through his mind, tried again to center himself. He took a deep breath, letting it fill his body, concentrating for a moment on the sweet scent of the flower garden tinged with the salty sea air. His mind filled with an image of the waves of the sea, their blue green grace caressing his mind. It had been increasingly difficult lately for him to meditate, the thoughts of the most recent news and rumors that had come to him were too distracting. Dreadus was a fool, though Argus knew that few would listen to the man, and that even they would come to their senses at some point, even if Dreadus did not. Yet still the ships returning from the mainland now carried not a few treasures, they carried wealth nearly beyond imagining. Local men would give over their gold, silver, jewels, anything else they thought of value in tribute to the greatness of Neluria. While it was common that some would think of the Nelurians as gods, for long they had corrected those that had these ideas, and had taught them, helping them to improve their own ways of life. Yet over the last few years the names were no longer discouraged, and in fact some among the Nelurians encouraged it, and if the latest that Argus had heard was correct, some had even begun to demand these lessor cultures worship them.
         Another presence approached and Argus opened his eyes to see his younger son Arthus walking towards him through the garden.
         “I am sorry if I have disturbed your meditation Father,” Arthus said as he paused before his Father.
         “Do not concern yourself my son, my meditation has been disturbed as a rule of late,” replied Argus. “Is there something I might do for you Arthus?”
         “A messenger came in from the city moments ago, bearing this message for you from Carthin,” said Arthus as he handed a small scroll of parchment to his Father.
         Argus took the parchment, and even as he did he felt a shudder deep in his soul, and nearly he feared to open the message. He examined the wax seal for a moment, it was intact and was indeed that of his elder son. Carefully he broke the seal and opened the scroll.

         “I write this to you in haste my Father,
Things have grown worse since last we spoke. Dreadus has declared himself King of Neluria, and has commanded the building a great army, and none have the courage to gainsay him. I fear he will bring war and ruin to our Island if he is not stopped.

         Argus paused before reading the last couple of lines, the unbidden image of the steps before the Great Temple of Neluria coming to his mind. No longer were these the pure white marble steps that he knew, but were stained red. He shook off the image, and tried to ignore the shadow that had fallen deeper on his heart as he looked back to the scroll in his hands.

         “I beg of you Father to return to the city, perhaps you can succeed where others have failed and make people see reason.
Your loving son,
Carthin”

         Argus sat in silent thought for a moment, considering what should be done. He had feared that one day he would need to speak out against Dreadus, yet he feared the division that it might bring. How could he allow this though, for Dreadus to bring an end to the peace of Neluria with the creation of this army.
         “Father?” came Arthus' voice.
         “Please ready my horse son, and your own as well,” Argus said as he stood and slipped the scroll into the pocket of his robe. “I will meet you at the stables once I have spoken with your Mother.”
         “Are we going to the city Father?” asked Arthus as he began to turn to go and do as his Father had bid.
         “Yes Arthus, and we shall bring your Brother and his wife back with us,” Argus replied as he turned and walked towards the main building of their dwelling.
Once inside he called out his wife's name, yet there was no response. He walked down a corridor that led to the dinning area, and there he found Baren, one of their servants coming the other way. Baren had served Argus and Aria for many years now, and was in these days more like family to them both.
         “Baren, do you know where Aria is?” Argus asked the blond haired Elf.
         “Yes, the Mistress left a short while ago to seek herbs in the hills, she did not wish to disturb your meditation and so left quietly.”
         “Very well, I am taking Arthus with me into the city, we should return before nightfall. Hopefully Carthin and his wife shall be with us upon our return. If you would, please have my sailing vessel readied.”
         “A trip sir?” asked Baren as he turned and followed Argus down the corridor for a few feet.
         “Yes Baren, I fear that we shall soon need to leave our beloved Neluria,” Argus said over his shoulder as he opened a large wooden door that led into the side courtyard. “I would suggest having your wife and children close at hand, for I fear when we depart time will be short.” With that he closed the door behind him.

         Aria walked along the stone walkway that led through the garden to the rear entrance of their home. She paused at the doorway and turned to look out over the garden, and the small cove that lay beyond. The sun reflected brightly on the water of the cove, as over head seabirds circled, their voices drifting on the wind. Aria closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the warm feeling of the sun on her skin combined with the sweet scent of the garden. As she opened her eyes she suddenly wondered where Argus was, she had not been gone for more than an hour, and normally he would still be in meditation in the garden. Lately though he had cut short his meditations, finding it difficult to concentrate with the news and rumors that had been heard as of late. She turned, thinking to see if he had gone inside to try and find solace in his music, only to find Baren standing in the doorway.
         “Ah Baren, do you know where my husband is?”
         “Greetings Lady Aria, he has gone into the city with Master Arthus,” replied the Elf. “He said to tell you that he would return before nightfall with Master Cathin and Mistress Sashya.”
         “I see,” said Aria, yet slowly a strange feeling came over her, fear nagging at a corner of her mind that she was not fully sure of the reason for, and a shadow fell upon her heart. “Did he say why?” she asked.
         “He spoke again of leaving Neluria, and even asked me to prepare the Waverider for sailing,” responded Baren.
         “Have you done as he requested?” asked Aria distractedly, trying to reach out with her mind and sense her husbands thoughts.
         “I have begun Mistress, and all should be ready long before nightfall.”
         “Very well, I shall be taking a horse Baren, please continue as Argus instructed,” Aria said as she set down the small bundle of herbs she had been carrying.
         “You intend to follow Master Argus?” Baren asked.
         “I do,” she responded as she started toward the stables.

         Argus reigned his horse to a halt near the edge of the large open area before the Great Temple. All the square seemed filled with people, many of them yelling. He looked towards the tall bronze doors that stood near the top of the white marble steps. There stood Dreadus, and at his side were two Elves, yet between these two stood a Man that he had not seen before. He was clad in simple fashion, mostly firs and rough leathers, which were common among some of the tribes of Man that dwelt upon the mainland in the south. Even from where he sat upon his steed, Argus could see that the man was afraid, for his eyes were cast downward, and he trembled with fear.
         “Father,” Argus turned to see his eldest son Carthin coming quickly towards him, the younger Tuathan's dark brown hair contrasting sharply with the light blond hair of the Elven woman at his side, his wife Sashya.
         “Carthin, what is happening here?” Argus asked as he turned his attention back to the scene before the Temple.
         “The man was brought back in chains from the mainland, and now I believe Dreadus means to put him to death.”
         “Why?” asked Arthus as he urged his horse a little closer to his Father's.
         “What crime do they say he has committed?” asked Argus evenly.
         “They say only he laid hands on a Nelurian women,” spoke up Sashya.
         “Yet the woman has come forward, and claims to love the man,” interjected Carthin. “Though Dreadus has lately been speaking against mingling the people of Neluria with those of lessor race. And now he seeks an excuse I think to enrage the populous, so that they will not speak against Neluria dominating the people that dwell near the coast lands.”
         “This can not be allowed!” said Arthus vehemently.
         “Calm yourself my son,” said Argus as he reached over and placed a gentle hand on his younger son's shoulder. “These people would never allow it, if they but have the voice of reason to guide them.” He then dismounted and handed the reigns of his horse to Arthus. “Remain here, if things do not go well, all of you return as quickly as you can to our home. As soon as the Waverider is prepared, you are to leave Neluria with your Mother.”
         “I shall stand at your side Father,” said Carthin firmly.
         Argus looked at his son for a moment, and then nodded. “Arthus, please obey my wishes as I have stated.”
         Arthus said nothing, but nodded numbly as he watched his Father and his Brother begin to make their way through the crowded square.

         “These peasants shall remember the glory and greatness of Neluria!” Dreadus cried as he brandished a long knife with a jeweled hilt. “Thus to all those who dare offend the honor of our people!”
         As Dreadus raised the knife high above his head, and stepped before the man, voices in the crowd cried out, some calling for the man's death, others calling for him to be spared. Yet above all the noise and shouts, another voice echoed from the walls of the Temple to be heard clearly among the tumult.
         “Stop this madness!”
         All went silent for a moment, and heads turned to see Argus and his son Carthin pushing their way out from the crowd, and hurrying up the steps of the Temple. “What is this disgrace?” Argus cried as he stopped and turned to face those gathered. “What is this defilement of our Temple!”
         “This man laid hands on a Nelurian woman, and now he must pay the price for this disgrace,” Dreadus voice echoed coldly through the square.
         “Father, please no!” came the anguished voice of a women from several feet away.
         “You will thank me for this day in time,” Dreadus said as he turned and addressed his daughter where she stood bracketed by two more Elves.
         “But I love him Father,” her voice was thick with emotion as tears streamed down her face.
         “So you would slay this man because he and your daughter are in love?” Argus asked in a firm voice, and though he faced Dreadus, all those in the square could hear his words.
         “I will not let my daughter be wife to one of these, mortals,” he bit off the last word as though it left a bad taste in his mouth. “This should not happen to any Nelurian.”
         “So to prevent it you will slay the man that she loves?” Argus asked Dreadus, then he turned towards the crowd. “Has there been any trial for this man? Where is the fabled justice of Neluria which has been praised by many? What then becomes of our honor and integrity if we turn our backs on that justice?” As he finished speaking a mummer ran through the crowd.
         “It is our place to dole out justice to those who are of lessor wisdom than we,” said Dreadus. “Are we not as to Gods in the eyes of these people? If they break the laws we have set upon them should they not pay the price?” As Dreadus spoke his voice rose in volume, and his eyes flashed with either anger or madness.
         “We are not Gods, and to think of oneself as such means that true wisdom has been left far behind,” Argus' voice was calm and steady as he spoke to Dreadus, yet in his heart he feared that Dreadus' mind was now beyond reason.
         “Enough of this!” cried Dreadus, and with a sudden move he raised his arm and brought down the long knife towards the restrained man's chest. Yet Argus moved the quicker, and grabbed hold of Dreadus' arm with one hand while putting himself before the other man. With a snarl Dreadus lunged forward, hurling his weight against Argus, and the two staggered back falling to the marble steps. The barely restrained tension in the crowd suddenly broke loose, and cries rang through the air as a scuffle began to break out. Several tried to rush towards the Temple, either with the idea to aid Argus, or to aid Dreadus. Yet even as the first of them started up the steps Dreadus raised up to his feet, and as he turned towards those that rushed forward, his hands were red with blood. At the sight of murder upon the very steps of the Great Temple the anger of the crowd broke into a maddened rage, and the long peace of Neluria was broken.
         Argus lay upon the flat space atop the Temple steps, one hand clutching the handle of the long knife that had been lodged in his chest. A part of his mind tried to gage how badly wounded he was, yet it was quickly dismissed as he tried to lift his head to see what was happening. He heard the shouts and the sounds of fighting about him, and the screams of the dying as they echoed through the square. Summoning his remaining strength he tried to raise himself up, hoping against the doubt and fear in him that total disaster could still be averted. Yet even as he lifted his head his eyes beheld his son, Carthin, his eyes staring unseeing back at him, glazed with death, his neck at an impossible angle. The will to fight his wound was gone from him in that instant, and Argus let himself fall to the cold marble again. He turned his head, unable to look again upon the body of his son.          Then his sight fell upon the steps as they fell away towards the square, their once pure white surface now stained red with blood, and in his heart he knew that the Neluria he had loved was gone for ever. He wished then only that what remained of his family would escape to safety, yet even as he thought this, he felt deep in his heart Arthus dying, as he stood defending Carthin's wife Sashya. Reaching deep inside then, Argus pulled on his last remaining strength of will, and reached out with his mind in an attempt to warn his beloved Aria, then darkness took him and he knew no more.

         Aria paused her horse and looked in the direction of the Great Temple. She could hear shouting and what sounded like fighting in that direction. For a moment she nearly urged her horse on down the avenue she been traveling, for she was not far from Carthin and Sashya's dwelling, but then she felt it. For a brief moment only she felt Argus reach out to her, felt the touch of his thoughts urgently in her mind, and with it she felt a nearly overwhelming wave of sadness, loss, and pain. Then it was gone, leaving her clutching the pommel of her saddle, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she recovered from the sudden torrent of emotion. One word only had come through distinctly in that contact, 'Flee!' She turned her horse and started in the direction of the Temple. Perhaps a hundred yards before the square she came across a large group of Elves, or perhaps it was closer to say two groups. Many of them were armed with bladed weapons, and an intense battle was being fought. She wondered for a moment if perhaps some outside force had found a way to attack Neluria, yet that idea was dismissed just as quickly when she came close enough to see that they were all clad in Nelurian fashion, and worse yet, some of them on both sides she knew by face. She charged her horse past the scene of battle, yet when she came to the square she found that its once open area was littered with the dead and dying. Some had been slain by sword or other weapon, others seeming to have been trampled, as if there had been some sort of stampede.
         Fearing what else she would find Aria scanned the square, and then her heart nearly failed her. Not far from where she was lay two bodies that she knew well, one was a female Elf with long blond hair, clad in a fashion common among Nelurian women who were with child. Beside Sashya lay a slender male with short dark brown hair, his light blue eyes staring back at her unseeing. She closed her eyes as the tears began to stream down her face, yet that image of Arthus' face was etched in her mind's eye. She dropped from the saddle, nearly falling to her knees as she stumbled towards the two bodies, yet she stopped short of kneeling beside them. Glancing about the grisly scene that had once been such a beautiful place, she began to search the faces of the other bodies about, fearing what other horrors awaited her.
         It was not long before her feet carried her up the blood stained steps before the Temple, and what she found there made her already aching heart feel as if it would burst for the pain and sorrow within it. She stumbled up the last few steps, and then fell to her knees, her light blue robes becoming stained by the blood that had been shed in that place, as she slowly reached out a trembling hand to touch the side of Argus' face. He lay on his side, his open eyes staring down along the marble steps, a look of anguish frozen on his features.
         “Argus, why did you come here?” she whispered softly, and as she spoke the tears that had been held back poured forth, and for a moment she thought she would lay herself down, and die there next to her spouse. Carefully she turned his body so that he lay on his back, gently closing his eyes. As she did so her gaze caught upon the hilt of the long dagger where it still protruded from his chest, and with a sudden vehemence she grasped the handle of the dagger and withdrew from the wound, casting it away to clatter upon the lower steps. She crawled on her knees to where Carthin lay, and gently she closed his eyes as well, and turned his head so that it lay at a proper angle, for she could not stand to see it as it had been. Yet it was then, as she again thought of laying herself down and letting her grief take her to death, that she saw the tall, thin body of Dreadus, a knife having been plunged into his heart, one blood stained hand still clasped tightly about the throat of a female Elf. Aria wondered for a moment, and then her mind grasped on the fact that this women was Dreadus' own daughter. What madness had come to their peaceful island?
         As these thoughts passed through her mind, her ears picked up the sound of fighting, and dimly she was aware that the battle she had seen was spreading, and soon it would engulf all of Neluria. Her eyes strayed about, and then she saw Dreadus' other hand, a small leather harness strapped about it, which she knew held a focusing crystal in the palm. Again she looked at where her beloved lay, and suddenly the sorrow and pain in her heart turned to a burning rage, for she guessed enough of what had happened here. She took up Dreadus' dead hand and removed the leather harness from it, intending to take it and throw it as far as she could, or perhaps to take it and throw it into the sea, for she guessed Dreadus' purpose in it. Even as she felt the crystal in her hand she knew that her guess was right, for she could see a part of what had happened here in her mind's eye, and also she could feel the vibrations that Dreadus' had apparently imparted to this thing. A part of her was horrified that any Nelurian would create a thing for a such a purpose, and the rage within her, fueled by the pain and sorrow deep in her heart, burned the hotter.
Again her eyes fell upon the bodies of Argus and Carthin, and nearly without realizing it at first she slipped the straps about the crystal over her fingers. It felt cold as the crystal rested in the palm of her hand, and for a moment she stared down at it, as if realizing it was on her hand for the first time. The noise of battle was coming closer again, and looking up she could see far out over the smaller buildings about from where she stood before the Temple. Nelurians were running about, some banning together, others scattering, some armed with swords or other weapons, which for so long had sat idle as pieces of conversation rather than instruments of war, but now again blood stained their shining blades.
         “The fools,” she whispered, and then she could watch no more. Dreadus had not been the only cause of this, yet he had been the catalyst that had started it, and even with his death still the madness raged, spreading out of control. It had to stop or all of Neluria could be lost forever, its knowledge, its wisdom. She had not started this, and had wanted no part of it, yet she would stop it.
         Aria raised herself up to the topmost part of the great Temple of Neluria, gazing down upon the city in its bloody agony, and she called out to any that would listen, her voice ringing through the air, echoing among the buildings below. Some looked up to see her where she stood, her form seeming to glow with its own radiance, yet most merely ignored the voice, intent upon either their killing, or their defense, for all the city was like a maddened battle field. She watched as the fighting continued, her heart becoming engulfed in rage that they would continue this madness, like soldiers fighting a battle even after they have forgotten what they were fighting for. 'I will make them stop!' she thought to herself, and leaping into the air from where she stood atop the Temple, she glided slowly towards the ground below.
         Where ever her gaze fell upon those who fought, the earth beneath their feet suddenly exploded upward, stone, earth, and bodies flying through the air. The crystal in her left hand was for focusing power, its vibrations attuned to be used for destruction by Dreadus, yet when she would raise her right hand it was just as powerful and destructive as her left in that hour, for she in truth did not need such instruments. The earth convulsed, the great stone towers and other buildings of Neluria, centuries to raise up, fell to the ground in ruin within mere moments. The Mountains about the city trembled, the seas rose up in fury, as everywhere fires raged unchecked.
         Aria found herself standing again in the center of what had once been the square before the Great Temple of Neluria, yet there was now little left to identify it as such. All about the ground was littered with rubble, and amid the stones were the bodies of both those who had died during the fighting, and those that had been caught in the onslaught of power released by Aria. She trembled as she looked about, her body felt as if she had run miles and miles without a rest. Lifting her hands before her face she looked at them, again tears coming to her eyes as the maddened fury that had burned in her cooled at last. The fighting was over, she had stopped it.
         Turning Aria stumbled forward towards the marble steps that still stood before what remained of the Temple. As she slowly climbed them the earth trembled more violently, and she lost her footing, crawling the last few feet till she found the body of Argus, which seemed to have somehow been untouched by her blind rage and fury. There she lay herself down, her head resting upon his now cold shoulder, and she let the darkness take her.