Location: Arbola Forest
Timeline: Sixth Age, 46th year, Summer to Autumn
Oh, the utter, magnificent despair of a mortal trying to change who they are. They believe that if they simply cut their hair or change their clothes, they can transform their very souls. It’s an adorable delusion, like a child putting on a cape and pretending to fly.Watch with me as Nathily engaged in this pathetic masquerade, yet witness the surprising results…
It was another hot day in Arbola Forest as Nathily walked along a woodland path – accompanied by her pine owl Master Hoobab. In the past year and a half, the elfess had gone from avid history student – eager to drink up every last bit of information about what it meant to be an Azora – to forgoing that path and returning back to life with her friends, to now once again finding a willingness to face her destiny.
In the beginning, she’d found solace with her step-mother Fara and her grandfather Dallegheri. But with Fara so dead-set on Nathily becoming an Azora and with Rian seeming to be so against it, the young elfess was caught in the middle. Unable to talk to any of her girlfriends about her unique situation, Nathily found herself more and more seeking the peace of the Forest.
It all seemed like a dream – The Council’s meetings continued with no end in sight and Nathily found herself alone. She was more than willing to let the elders “decide,” although Fara had repeatedly assured her that there was no real “decision” for them to make – for as her stepmother reminded her, “When a goddess commands, let no one deny her authority! “
As she hiked through the forest, Nathily listened to the sounds of nature. Like all members of her race, Nathily had a special bond with the animals that shared her haven home. By far her favorite was the owl Hoobab, and hardly a day passed when she didn’t confide in her wise listener. Such was the case today too.
“Master Hoobab, I need your advice…”
“Hoooot,” came the reply from the bird. “Hoooot, Naaathiiillleee.”
“I don’t know what to do. Will my destiny ever arrive?” And the elfess went on her describe her feelings of angst over her uncertain future.
When her conversation with friend was over, it seemed that his wisdom was just the medicine of the mind that Nathily needed. Thinking clearly again for the first time in months, Nathily found that she was again willing to accept Alyssa’s wishes for her destiny. And furthermore, she decided to make a change – in fact a very big change, for the elfess opted to take her counselor’s advice by altering her appearance.
For as Master Hoobab said, “if you want to beeee an Azora, then you must feeeeel like one, and you can only doooo that when you looooook the part tooooo.”
When Nathily returned home, she decided to trade in her lovely flowing robes for a set of simple leathers – a jerkin and breeks that she sewed for herself while alone in her room during the next few nights.
Once her new attired was ready, she made an even bigger change of appearance – intending to cut her hair short too – yet this task proved more difficult. The first night she spent peering into the looking glass. The next evening was the same. While her mind was willing to make the cut, her body was not. For Nathily’s golden locks were beautiful beyond compare and even the elfess was in love with the sight of them.
It was not until the third night, with knife in hand again, that Nathily finally found it within herself to touch the blade to her hair. And then, for the first time in her life, Nathily did cut her golden locks!
Her glorious golden hair, once a waterfall that cascaded past her waist, was soon ruthlessly shorn. Not a clean, practical cut, but a choppy, uneven mess that spoke of desperation. Next she exchanged her flowing, silken robes for a simple tunic of dark green leather, stitched together with clumsy, amateurish hands. The leather, new and unyielding, creaked with every step, a stark, jarring sound against the whispered rustle of their traditional garments.
As she beheld herself in the mirror, Nathily felt the a sense of loss. She reminded herself that such was the sacrifice required of her if she wanted to be an Azora. Even still, Nathily cried herself to sleep that night, struggling once again to accept her unique, yet un-asked-for destiny.
When she awoke the next morning and realized from the sight of her hair all over the floor that last night was not a dream, Nathily had no choice but to accept her situation. After donning her leathers, she picked up a leaf-green cord from her vanity and she used it to tie her hair – in truth the cord wasn’t necessary, but the elfess allowed herself that small vanity.
There is no more time for me to avoid the wishes of my Goddess, she thought. If that means that I need to show The Council that I am serious about my training, then I will do it. I am willing to forgo the pleasures of the mirror, for I know it’s what’s inside that counts.
Yet, in spite of her changes, Nathily was still beautiful, and no matter what she did to alter her appearance, she remained one of the most attractive Amorae in Arbola. In fact, when she walked among her friends in Center Vale on the day of her revelation, she found that now that she no longer wore the standard robes of her peers, she stood out even more. The other elves, with their elegant robes and intricate braids, would part like water around her. They didn’t shout or point; their judgment was far more subtle, a quiet closing of their ranks, a lowering of their eyes. She was an aberration, a blot of dark leather on a canvas of delicate silk.
She was utterly and completely alone – although she’d intended to go to The Great Green Hall to confront The Council, embarrassment took hold. Frustrated that her change did not go as planned, Nathily quickly returned home. When Rian, Fara, and Dallegheri came by after hearing the talk of the town, all were shocked to see that the elfess had taken such steps without first consulting them. When they tried to talk to her about it, Nathily got so angry that she screamed and ran off to the forests to be alone once more.
“What can I do but wait?” Nathily cried to her friendly owl. “Wait. Wait. Wait.”
“Hooooot.” Hoobab replied. “Hoooot.”
Patience was the name of the game for Nathily as the council met all through the summer of the 46th year. For whatever reason, Arbola Council could not seem to put the matter to rest and yet no end seemed in sight.
Until finally, on the last day of summer, a small bird flew in through a window in the great hall. As the Amorosi were a nature loving people, animals in their homes and halls were nothing new. In fact, on this day there were no less than fifteen other birds flittering among the rafters, two raccoons nosing over something in a corner, and even a young brown bear lounging in one of the divans after he had just obviously been fed by one of the cooks. None of these creatures seemed to care a wit for what the elves were discussing in the center of the room, the newly arrived bird – a little blue jay – had landed directly on the center of the sycamore table.
A hushed murmur went through the council. The jay then flitted up to perch upon the high back of the Regent’s chair – where it remained there without so much as a chirp. As the talks continued, various council members began to get the feeling that the inquisitive bird, with its beautiful blue plumage and shiny white underbelly, was paying close attention to what was being said, and just who was saying what! Even Rian felt as if a presence were looking over his shoulder – much to his discomfort.
The jay’s interest in the affair was highly peculiar. Usually when the elves communicated with birds, the latter spoke to the Amorosi about bird-related issues — like nest-building, the joys of flying, which insects and worms were the tastiest morsels, and if the elf being conversed with have recently seen any of these creatures so the bird could go “talk” with them. Birds, for the most part, were not interested in the worldly affairs of the Amorosi; and the matter of Nathily’s training was just such a thing.
The more the jay remained on his chair, the more Rian became pale and uncomfortable.
“Are you all right, Regent?” Adarius asked when Rian didn’t reply to a direct question.
Embarrassed that he was caught not paying attention, Rian stammered to reply.
Yet it was the jay which took the spotlight off the flustered elf-lord. To the utter shock of everyone present, it spoke. Not in the chirps of a bird, but in the clear, melodic, and ancient tongue of the Amorosi. Its voice, though small, resonated with a power that vibrated through the very branches of the living chamber.
“My people, hear me well,” A voice was heard from the bird as it bobbed it’s head up and down and its wings spread open. And everyone there immediately knew that it was the goddess Alyssa who was addressing them. “You have already belabored long enough do decide. I have allowed you to delay my child Nathily’s quest because she needed the time to discover herself, and because I too had a task to attend to. Yet now all is in place. Now you shall heed my words – for Nathily will be an Azora, and she…”
The council was frozen in place, their faces a mixture of awe and utter bewilderment as their goddess spoke. Alyssa had never directly intervened in their affairs, not like this. Not for centuries.
“I have watched Nathily,” the blue jay continued, its small head turning to face where Nathily was hiding in the shadows, “and I have watched you all. The fear you feel is a test. The struggle you have endured is a necessary part of a new beginning.”
The blue jay then turned its gaze directly toward the highest ranking Azora. “The time for Nathily’s training is now – and you, El-Janus, will be her mysstro.”
A collective gasp went through the chamber. El-Janus’s face was stoic – like Adarius, he had argued so against this, but now, the very goddess had commanded him. Yet before he could reply, Alyssa continued – the blue jay puffed out its tiny chest, its voice gaining an even deeper, more resonant power the goddess said, “And you will not train her alone, Mysstro. For the world is changing, and the threats that now rise are a new and terrible thing. The balance must be restored not just within your own people, but across all of life. You will also train a human – a boy from Monthaven, of the line of our great friend Al-Corragio. He will be the first of his kind to bear the name Azora.”
A human? An Azora? The council’s shock was a beautiful, palpable thing. A human was a creature of crude passions, of fleeting lives and base desires. They were everything the elves were not. The very idea was a perversion of their sacred order, a violation of everything they held dear. Even looking back now I can feel their collective revulsion, their minds screaming at the audacity of the goddess.
The Council’s unspoken fears were well known to the goddess yet she ignored them. Instead, Alyssa advised that the training for both the elfess and the boy was to begin as soon as El-Janus could return from that northern village with the man-child — a venture that was to be set in motion on the morrow when an Amorosi messenger was to be sent to advise the boy’s parents to get him prepared to travel.
El-Janus, a warrior who had faced down monsters of flesh and dread, kept his face like stone as he averred. “As the goddess commands, it shall be done.”
And with that, the blue jay took flight, leaving a chamber that was no longer divided by petty politics, but by a profound, unshakeable terror of a future they could not control.
In the end, Rian and his Council never had no choice. They were a people built on reverence, and a goddess had just spoken to them, directly, in their own tongue. To defy her would be to defy the very essence of their people. And all the while, Helena conspired to herself, how she might use this new development to her advantage.
It was the Summer of 46 and a change was upon the world. Yet things weren’t going to work out as Alyssa hoped.
Oh, Alyssa. My foolish little lumenarc friends. She probably believed she was putting an end to the chaos I had so carefully crafted. But what she didn’t know is that she had done the exact opposite.
Although neither she nor I knew it at the time, Alyssa had created a new schism, a new source of beautiful, agonizing turmoil that would feed my schemes for centuries to come.
This was so much more delicious than I had ever hoped.
The Apocrypha of Azazel 