Ruins of the Gods, page 1
Ruins of the Gods
THE FALLEN ELVES
BOOK ONE
LEAH R CUTTER
KNOTTED ROAD PRESS
Contents
Map
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
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Also by Leah R Cutter
Map
Chapter
One
Tanelith rocked back and forth, swaying slightly on her feet, while the priest of the Hidden One continued his recitation. At least thirty of the Moon People—also known as the Egarlorsar, and referred to as the Elves by the other races—had gathered in an uninhabited part of the ruins for this funeral.
The dirt floor was hard against the soles of her soft shoes, and the air smelled musty. Under the words of the priest came the sounds of the others shifting, also restless. The night outside was calm and cool, spring just around the corner. No light shone through the cracks of the ruined walls.
If only there were a window, so that Tanelith could at least see the stars! But there was little light to be had. All of the services dedicated to the Hidden One were done in the dark. Using a blessed piece of charcoal, the priest had made a quick sketch of a standing, cloaked figure on the broken wall behind him, then used magic along the outline of that figure, highlighting it in soft blue light.
Tanelith hadn’t known the girl who they were holding the service for. She’d disappeared over a year ago. Her parents knew the girl’s parents though. So while Tanelith tried to be sympathetic, really, it was just another ceremony she had to wait through.
Beside the priest was a long table, low to the ground. A shapeless robe lay on it. As it had been more than a year since the girl had disappeared—was her name Gilmethel?—her parents had declared her as dead, as had become the custom.
Was she still alive? Had she been stolen by the slavers? Was she just waiting for someone to rescue her?
Except that none of those who disappeared ever came back.
Tanelith wore her own shapeless black robe, like everyone else. Ceremonies to the Hidden One dictated that the Egarlorsar cover themselves in what was called the clothing of the night. The robes weren’t too bad during this time of the year. They were far too warm in the summer, but she’d wear them because it was tradition.
The shadows in the room were cold and uninviting. Should she just slip into one anyway? Not that she had anything to hide from. It was just something to do while the priest continued to tell them all how lucky the rest of them were to be alive, how the Hidden One had truly saved them as a people during the War of Betrayal.
Tanelith glanced to her left, where her mother and father stood. Though the Moon People could see in the dark better than any of the other races, she couldn’t see her two bratty sisters who stood on the far side of her parents. The twins were four years younger than she was, only fourteen years old to her eighteen, which meant she’d had to take care of them far too often. Though at this point, the community did consider her an adult.
All Tanelith could see was a vague outline of her mother beside her, her chin raised slightly, her eyes attentive. Her father had the same watchful look in his eyes.
Tanelith took after her mother, at least in coloration. She had the same clear gray eyes, pale white skin, and long black hair. The tips of her ears were pointed, more so than even her mother’s.
At the same time, Tanelith had her father’s height. She stood at least a head taller than her mother, and was less than two fingers shorter than her father. At eighteen, she might still grow past him.
The twins took after her father in looks, with hair that was more brown than black and grew in waves curling around their faces, along with large brown eyes. But they were short, like their mother, and less slender.
Only a third of the people gathered that night in the ruins were of Tanelith’s height. She was able to look over the heads of the rest.
She feared that her grandfather might be right in his claims—the Moon People were fading. The other races claimed that the elves had reached their glory eons ago, and now were unimportant.
When the priest started listing the names of the Fallen, those heroes who’d passed during the War of Betrayal, Tanelith reached for a shadow on her right side, away from where her parents stood. It felt cool against her bare palm, the air where the shadow lay just a touch different than everywhere else. She tugged the shadow, pouring a tiny bit of magic into it, until it formed a separate cloak of darkness. Just as she was about to step into it, her mother took hold of her left hand.
With a sigh, Tanelith released the shadow. She wouldn’t have gone far! She just…she needed to get out of here. The space was far too closed in.
Logically, Tanelith knew that the walls of the ruins they stood in weren’t solid. The ceiling, such as it was, tilted from the back to the front, making the area seem more closed in. While cracks ran through the walls, there weren’t big enough gaps for her to see through.
Tanelith had never liked being in enclosed spaces. She would be outside all of the time if she had a chance. Even during the rainy season. The Blasted Plains where they lived were far enough south that they rarely got snow.
Finally the priest finished with his list of names. Honestly, Tanelith couldn’t see the point in remembering all those people from the past. They’d all passed into the Goddess’ light. They weren’t still around, haunting the ruins they’d died in.
Elethod swore that there was a section of the ruins that were really haunted. He promised to take Tanelith there during the next full moon.
Tanelith suspected his motives weren’t the purest, that he might expect a kiss or two as payment for showing her. She didn’t know how she felt about that. Or about him. She knew that everyone expected her to choose a mate and settle down now that she’d reached eighteen, start trying to have children, as the Goddess seemed to bless fewer and fewer of the Elves these days.
When she thought about picking Elethod as her mate and making a life with him, it felt like another closed-off room.
Tanelith responded with the rest of the people in the musty ruins, “Blessed be their names” when it came time. Even if she’d been hiding in a shadow she still would have completed the litany! Mother was just being mean.
The priest finally said the benediction.
May you stay in the light of the Goddess, may the Moon guide your path, and may the Hidden One keep you safe.
During a normal funeral, some of the people would have stayed with the body for the rest of the night, waiting until the spirit of the corpse had fled. Tanelith had only kept vigil once, when her grandmother had died. She’d been eighty-one, and hadn’t woken up one morning.
After waiting for hours, the passing had taken just a moment, between one breath and the next.
The body was there, wrapped in its shroud, the moon shining down on it.
The next eyeblink, the body collapsed upon itself, until just ashes remained.
As there was no body for this funeral, the cloak on the low table beside the priest would be treated like a shroud. The family would burn it after sunrise, freeing the soul to take comfort in the light of the Goddess.
Tanelith knew that it would be rude to just turn and walk out of the service. Or even run out of the stuffy room. She just couldn’t stand to be there another moment, though.
“Mother?” Tanelith said before her parents could start walking forward.
“We’ll meet you outside,” Mother said.
Before Tanelith could escape, Mother added, “And take the twins with you.”
Tanelith couldn’t help but roll her eyes. “Come on,” she said in the general direction of where the brats had been standing.
They suddenly slipped out of the shadows, standing on either side of her.
Tanelith knew better than to say anything. She hadn’t been allowed to step into the shadows during the middle of the sermon, but the twins had?
It was so unfair.
With a sigh, Tanelith turned and walked out of the enclosed space, ducking her head to get through the tilted doorframe, and out into the night.
She took a deep breath as soon as she left the building. She didn’t stretch her arms out wide, though she felt like it.
Broken buildings stood all around her—the an
cient fallen city of Lasirinth. Stone walls tilted this way and that. In some places, where the moonlight kissed the rock, flickers of magical blue light sparked. There was even a doorway completely outlined in light, though it wasn’t straight or square.
The twins took off immediately, racing away into night.
Slowly, Tanelith followed them. She trusted that they wouldn’t go far. Plus, out here, she could always find them, no matter what shadows they hid in. On the other hand, they could never find her. It might have been because of their age difference, but Tanelith suspected that she’d always have stronger magic than they did. She had stronger magic than both her parents, as well as most of her friends.
Some of the older people in town whispered about the twins. In their day, twins weren’t allowed to live. There were too often stories about how one would turn to evil.
So few of the Egarlorsar had children, though, no matter how often they tried. It seemed stupid to Tanelith to kill any healthy children who were born.
Tanelith walked beside a low wall, made from white brick. Ivy grew across it, the leaves occasionally waving as a quick breeze passed by. Had it lined a garden, once? It was a game that she and the other children played, making up stories about what this building had been, or that. Before the Fall.
The Egarlorsar had lived up in the sky in floating towers, carried there by the love of their Goddess, Celionael. Some myths claimed that they’d actually lived with the Goddess. Still others said their own magic had raised them up.
But then had come the War of Betrayal. The other races—primarily the sun-worshipping Ilburh and the cave-dwelling Gilukkhaz, but also the tree-loving Meerimec—had grown jealous of the Egarlorsar and had used terrible magic to pull the floating cities down over five hundred years ago.
The Hidden One had saved many of the Egarlorsar, brought them down out of the clouds and onto the ground of the world Ithlond.
Now, the Moon People lived among the ruins of Lasirinth. They only inhabited a quarter of the Blasted Plains, living in the north-east section, along the Dorwin river, in a series of small towns and cities, maybe fifty thousand souls total.
Tonight, the ceremony had taken place far to the west, but still on the northern side of the ruins. A tall row of black buildings going east to west separated the north ruins from the south. It was as if the earth had grown spiked hills and used those to break the city into two as it fell.
Tanelith, like most of the children, was familiar with the northern ruins, even this far west. As a child, she’d run there on the moonlight with her friends, exploring during the evening, before racing back to her village.
The southern border of the Blasted Plains was edged by Ilburh lands, Humans who worshiped the sun. Beyond the lands of the Ilburh were the mountains where the Gilukkhaz, sometimes called the Dwarves, stayed. Far to the west lay the great forests held by the Meerimec, also known as the Tree People.
Sometimes Tanelith dreamed of traveling. Maybe join a merchant caravan, and go all the way to the west, past the desert and to the Nyramukz mountains and beyond.
Mother wove the finest cloth in their village of Alath. Possibly the best of the closest villages, certainly fine enough that she could sell it in the capital city of Belorond. Father worked as a tailor, both making new clothes as well as refitting old ones.
The twins loved the looms that they’d received as children. They’d played with them, making small pieces of cloth that they’d brag about being fine enough for the Council of Elders who ruled the Egarlorsar.
Tanelith always got her threads tangled. She’d lose track of her stitches, and would end up with the weft not properly woven into the warp.
She was no better with needle and thread. Father had an eye, and could easily adjust a robe or shirt to fit perfectly, making the wearing look better as well. Tanelith’s thread always knotted on itself, her stitches were never straight, and though she’d tried, she could never get the hang of seams or tucks.
Tanelith wasn’t sure what she was good at. Except magic. She spent time with Old Olin, in his musty store. For some reason, the rooms of the shop never closed in on her.
Maybe it was because they were full of ancient artifacts from the ruins.
Not everyone had the gift or could use the old magic, could make the long-forgotten treasures come alive.
Tanelith paused in her walk, pushed her hand past the ivy of the white wall beside her, and brushed her fingertips along the rough brick.
No, the wall hadn’t once surrounded a garden, but her guess had been close. Instead of the sighing of gentle leaves, the wall still carried the tinkling sound of a fountain. Maybe it had been close to the village well.
She pulled back her hand before the wall fully woke and possibly started to glow.
While it was safer here, in the northern part of the ruins, particularly with such a large gathering of her people, it was still not smart to draw such attention. Or so she’d been taught, ever since she’d been young.
The south-west corner of the ruins were where the slavers sometimes operated, collecting up any of the Moon People that they could, using blood metal to steal away their Elven magic.
Tanelith shivered even though the night remained calm and warm. It was early spring. The longest day was still approaching them, the day when most of the Moon People would stay inside, hiding from the sun, not coming out until it was safely evening again.
She closed her eyes for a moment, seeking out the twins. There was too much old magic here for her to find them. She opened her eyes again and grabbed the closest shadow, stepping into the darkness.
The outlines of the buildings grew clearer, while everything else grew blacker. It was easy to slip from one dark place to the next. Tanelith let her feet guide her, stepping close to where the twins were.
They were crouched down behind a wall, just at the end of the path that she’d been walking along. It was obvious they were planning on startling her.
Tanelith just shook her head. They would never win this sort of game.
She stepped out of the shadows behind them, reaching out and tapping their shoulders.
“Don’t do that!” complained Indulote. “We were supposed to startle you, not the other way around.”
Nellalwic just glared at Tanelith.
Tanelith gave them a big grin. “Come on,” she said. “I bet Mother and Father are ready to go.”
“Race you!” Indulote said. She was already up and running, with Nellalwic just a step behind.
Tanelith rolled her eyes and walked after them, not giving into the joy of running on the moonlight until they could see all the people who had spilled out of the building where the funeral had been held. Then she let herself race ahead. Even then, it was a close call between who returned first.
“You cheated,” Indulote accused Tanelith.
“No, squirt, I’m just better than you are,” Tanelith said.
“Pride, dear,” Mother admonished.
“Yes, Mother,” Tanelith said, hiding her sigh.
It was the one thing that all the other races accused the Elves of: pride. According to them, it was pride that caused the War of Betrayal and their fall, not jealousy.
Tanelith tried to be a good daughter, to stay humble. But there were so few things she was good at!
Father tapped a moonbeam and wrapped them all up together inside of it, carrying them above the broken buildings back to their cozy house in their tiny village.
Still, Tanelith found herself looking back over the ruins and wondering what lay beyond, and if she’d ever see it with her own eyes someday.
