Part II – The Amorosi
Chapter 1 – The Arbols
Location: Arbola Forest
Timeline: Sixth Age, 44th Year
It may hearten you to learn that not every thread of this grand tapestry revolves around my inestimable self—though, if I had my way, it would, and the tale would be all the richer for it. But alas, A’H’s tiresome edicts compel me to widen the lens, so allow me to introduce you to a corner of existence I once overlooked, a quaint little subplot unfolding in Arbola Forest during the Sixth Age. At the time, I confess, my gaze was elsewhere—fixed on loftier pursuits, blind to the antics of these mortals until much later – it wasn’t until I became a slave, er, servant of A’H that I was ‘graced’ with this information. That’s when I learned that Amorosi historians wrote about the events of this time in their History of the Ages – that voluminous work lacks the verve of my own chronicles, but it will suffice for your purposes.
In hindsight, I find myself mildly vexed—how could I, Azazel, architect of destinies, have missed the machinations of a female heroine named Nathily and her irksome human companion Emcorae Azop – both of whom you’ll encounter in due course? Had I but glimpsed their meddling, I’d have excised them with the precision of a surgeon—two insignificant specks snuffed out, my plans preserved, my supremacy unchallenged. Instead, they wove a thread that nearly unraveled me, a fact that stings my divine pride even now. Still, what’s done is done, and I’ll recount their tale with the dispassion of an observer, if only to hasten its conclusion.
Once upon a time there was an Amorosi female named Nathily.
If you’d seen her, your fairy tale mind would classify her as ‘elfess’ based on her appearance, but she was in fact of a people once called Amorosi – that race I engineered long ago through the union of the lumenarc Armaros (aka Alyssa – Goddess of Love) and that first human, Adam. You’ll recall their’s was a pairing I orchestrated with no small ingenuity and their union led to the birth of the Atlanteans of the sea and the Amorosi of the Forests.
Nathily’s and her people dwelt in Arbola Forest – that once great wilderness that once spanned so much of the Eastern region of TerrVerde. As for Nathily, she was a specimen of remarkable beauty even by my exacting standards: golden hair cascading like liquid silk, a form both lithe and robust, every muscle honed to a perfection that echoed her divine lineage. Her visage was finely sculpted, a dream made flesh, yet it was her eyes—emerald orbs of startling clarity, faintly luminous in shadow—that set her apart from her earth-eyed kin, a trait neither I nor their lore could fully account for, though I suspect a goddess’s whim at play (1). At the time of our story Nathily was forty-two years old – yet she was still considered to be barely more than a child by a people that measured their lifespans in centuries.
Despite her seeming immaturity, very worldly events were about to take place for the elfess – in fact, Nathily had already spent the last few months of her dwindling youth preparing for the physical and mental trials she would have to endure once she began to train as an Azora. And although it had been some time now since she had first learned that it would be her destiny to become one of these famed warriors, still her official training had yet to begin, still she had yet to be assigned a mysstro, and she had yet to even pick up a weapon. For Nathily continued to await the decree of the Arbola Council, while that governing body continued on with their endless meetings in the Great Green Hall – trying to decide whether or not they would actually allow a female elfess, an Amora, to actually attempt to become an Azora! (2)
And so Nathily waited – a study in patience that I might have admired – had I cared to notice.
Presiding over this drama was Rian, Regent of Arbola and Nathily’s adoptive father, a figure his people deemed wise and capable—though personally I found him a bit of a wet noodle.
Do they really expect me to give my blessing for Nathily to become an Azora? The regent sighed to himself as he listened to endless debates of his council on the matter. For Rian these were tough times — as a pacifist by nature, it would have been hard enough for him to see his only child serve for a short term in the regular defense force of Arbola – the Amorosi Protectorate (3). Amorae could and did fight in the Protectorate, and if Nathily had wanted to, Rian could not have stopped her – for it was the right and duty of all the people to protect the realm and Amorosi women were more than capable fighters in their armies.
Although their fighting forces were fierce when the times required, in fact the Amorosi people generally viewed violence as a last resort. Instead they sought harmony with nature and spent their time in pursuits worthy of creating a ‘legacy life’ – enjoying the creation of art, the spinning of a sublime poem or pleasing music, and the production of finely crafted goods – their wares highly sought after throughout TerrVerde (4).
Their people were a rather elegant race – reminiscent of their progenitors Alyssa and Adam – with fine features, tall, slim bodies, beautiful, flowing hair, and dark, earth-toned eyes. And while the man Adam had long been replaced in their ancient lore for the lumenarc Pan, their devotion to Alyssa had remained the core of their religion. Yet it was Alyssa’s ancient decree that her people serve as “Protectors of the Light” – long ago she beseeched them to not shirk their duty to protect the goodness of the world she loved – a world she’d specifically chosen to abide in. That meant that while they might not like war, the Amorosi couldn’t deny that Baal-Zebub and his godlings (like me!) had brought evil to their world and if they did not oppose our minions, then Alyssa warned that, in time, all would be lost, including their beloved forest havens. As a result, the Amorosi taught themselves the ways of warfare.
Yet Rian himself had never served in their army – for he’d been exempted by his father who’d professed a belief that a non-violent life was the path to wisdom. Rian also ascribed to this belief and therefore when he became Regent he ever tried to guide his people along the paths of peace (5). But for agreeing to let his army join the Allied Peoples in their fight to defend themselves against Gwar’s mobs during The Last Great War half a century ago, the citizens of Arbola had enjoyed peaceful times throughout Rian’s leadership.
The occasional war may be inevitable, Rian conceded to himself, but not for my child. (6)
And The Path of the Azora —with its lifelong single-mind dedication to war—was simply anathema to him. As a result, Rian resolved to do whatever he could to stop the Azoras from getting his daughter.
For her part, Nathily continued to await the official sanction that would grant her the ability to train as an Azora pupil. Meanwhile, serene in her faith while awaiting her fate, Nathily’s days were enriched by the tutelage of her grandfather, Dallegheri.
More than eleven centuries old, Dallegheri was the oldest known Amorosi in recorded history. A withered archive of wisdom, Nathily’s grandfather was Advisor Emeritus to the Arbola Council, the Librarian Extraordinaire of Arbola, and Lore Master General. His yellow-white hair and brittle skin mirrored the parchments he cherished – a decay I found oddly poetic, a mortal echo of my own beautiful form.
During their lessons, Dallegheri oft regaled Nathily with stories from the History of the Ages. “Ours is a forest of light, where pines, oaks, yu bask in peace…”
On and on the old scholar would drone – and young Nathily grew weary of listening to her elder’s meandering ramblings– for the budding elfess was just starting out on her life’s journey and like most youth, she assumed she’d have more than enough time for lessons like this in the future. Unfortunately for Nathily, while many of the friends were frolicking their days away in the forest, she all too often found herself saddled with her grandfather — for when the most learned person in your culture was a member of your family, it was sometimes impossible to escape.
Over time, Nathily learned all about her forest home – Arbola that huge natural setting that once dominated the lands of lower Pennal along the eastern rim of the TerrVerde continent. Once she’d asked Dallegheri why her people had come to settle in the forests as opposed to other locations in the world. Her grandsire smiled sweetly, the lines of centuries falling away to smooth his face, then he closed his eyes and answered…
“Dear Nathily, it is because of the Arbols.” And he went on to explain how more than a few of their people had devoted centuries of their lives solely to the study of the various arbols that thrived in their wood. Adding, “it is the very confines of our forest that have helped the Amorosi to grow ever closer to our fellow woodland brothers and sisters.”
Initially Nathily had thought that all forests were the same, yet the lore master corrected her.
“Our home is unlike dark Chakor in the Stax,” Dallegheri taught her. “In Chakor, the mighty trees might reach incredible heights, yet their peril is grave, for the arbols there have lost their way. The hand of evil has stolen their soul.” After a pause, Dallegheri went on, “Yet fear not, young Amora, for just like Regalis – with its countless orchards — and southern Meridia – the palmy home of the Our Goddess Alyssa – your Arbola is a place that rejoices in the light. And despite the cares of the outside, our three enchanted forests still remain safe havens for the Amorosi against the evil darkness of Zebub and his cruel godlings. But, it wasn’t always this way…”
And so Nathily’s history lessons continued. As did her waiting for a decision on her fate. Would she really become an Azora?
Only time would tell.
Azazel’s Notes
- I know what you’re thinking, “Hey Azazel, you have green eyes that glow too. Are you the father of Nathily?” Let me assure you that I am not Nathily’s father. While Nathily’s eyes were special, they were different from mine. They were also different from the other members of her race, for whereas most Amorosi had dark eyes that matched the colors of the earth – dark brown, forest green, or ocean blue being the most predominant shades – Nathily’s were unique. And even her adoptive grandfather, the infinitely wise Dallegheri, who claimed to have “seen it all,” was at a loss as to be able to explain how Nathily had acquired this difference. Yet it was a beautiful “mutation” for which Nathily was often admired, for her eyes were quite striking to any who looked her way. See what I did there to misdirect you? No. OK, let me take some pity on you and reveal this much at least – Nathily’s mutation did involve a god…or should I say goddess? If you can’t figure it from there, that’s on you.
- Besides the Myz knights of Kagor in the far west, the Amorosi Azoras were by arguably the best trained and most highly skilled fighters in the world. Granted, for the money, I’d still bet on the myz I created for Gwar, but I’ll give credit where credit is due – they may not have fought with the barbaric ferocity of the Pietromi dwarves or the wicked blood-lust of Gwar’s Myz, but the Azora were still badass fighters! They possessed not only the deadly speed inherent in the lithe, athletic bodies of their race, but also the finely honed skills that could only come when one devoted centuries to learning the arts of war – that gave them the chance to acquire knowledge and skills that neither the myz, dwarves, or anyone else on your planet had the time to learn and it caused the Azoras to become known as the masters of the battlefield.
- The Amorosi had two main fighting forces – the Protectorate (made up of males and females from throughout their society who served for a decade or so at a time as part of their community service duties) and the Azoras (a far smaller group who devoted their entire lives to learning the Art of War). The Azora warriors had been formed long ago with the goal not only to protect the goodness and beauty of all of Terra – since the maiden folks (The Amorae) were part of the beauty they sought to protect, it was also decided long ago that only Amorosi males would be Azoras. Because The Way of the Azora was a life long commitment it was a defacto loss of innocence as well – yet those who chose to walk that path did so in the belief that felt their sacrifice was worthwhile by saving the grace of their females. While that might sound all well and good, it was a completely sexist belief if you ask me.
- Elvish furniture was made with pazziera leaves – the inner materials that gave their furniture a softness unmatched in quality. Pazzierra leaves could only be harvested in Arbola Forest from Pazziera trees (now long since extinct) and because of their limited supply, Amorosi furniture was always in short supply – the elves sold it to buyer who visited them for a reasonable price, but once it got into human hands, that same furniture commanded exorbitant prices on the black market. Because their furniture was often ‘out of stock’ the Amorosi’ main trading exports were the garments they produced. From silky robes, to durable tunics, to hooded travel capes, their clothing was always in demand by the humans they commerced with. The elves shipped out the same styles that they themselves wore on a daily basis, and while the colors did not rank high on man’s fashion list — usually dark browns and greens, or tans, duns and russets meant to blend in with the forest surroundings — still all were well made, very comfortable, and long lasting. No human clothier could have ever competed with the quality of the Amorosi and therefore the elves’ clothes (although in greater supply) still commanded high prices on human black markets as well. In short, it was humans who got rich off the work of the Amorosi. Some things never change, huh? Yet the Amorosi cared not for wealth, nor did it matter to them who dominated the market for their goods – instead the elves engaged in trade to maintain good relations with their allies and to keep their information lines open in order to protect their beloved forest realms.
- Given that Arbola Forest was situation in the far eastern portion of TerrVerde, and thus removed from the war-torn regions of the western side of the continent, no war had ever reached Arbola itself, thus Rian’s pacifistic policies were rather easy to continue.
- Spoken like a true elite – isn’t that always the case? Your leaders don’t lose sleep over sending the peasant’s sons and daughters off to die in war, but they’d never think of sending their own children into such dire situations.
The Apocrypha of Azazel 