Chapter Three: Part One

Chapter Three

~East Bed Chamber, Eroth Castle~

            Xander paced back and forth in his bed chamber. Angry thoughts raced through his mind.

            “How could I think I even stood a chance with her?” he asked himself aloud. In his mind he replayed the scene of Aloienne throwing herself into Erolith’s arms. “Of course she loves him! He’s a brave, handsome, knight in shining armor! Literally! I’m just here because a pool of water said I would be.”

            He pictured Aloienne prancing into the forest with Erolith. If it was like what teenagers did in the back seats of cars, he wasn’t such an “honorable” soldier after all was he? It angered Xander to picture Erolith over Aloienne, his lips on that lovely, creamy white skin. He couldn’t stand the thought of Aloienne shouting Erolith’s name.

            “But she wouldn’t do that would she?” Xander vocalized again. “She’s a princess –she wouldn’t do something like that, right?” then he thought of the first night he arrived and the words she said to him; ‘you act as if I have never seen a naked body before!’ Xander groaned and fell onto the bed.

            “Why am I even so upset about this?” wondered Xander aloud. “Erolith is here to help me, He’s a great warrior. I don’t belong with Aloienne. Or even in this world.”

            In mid-thought, Xander heard the door of his chamber open and shut ever-so-quitely. He had wandered out to the balcony, and as he peered back into his room, he could make out a slim figure slinking through the room. Suddenly, Aloienne popped up before his eyes.

            “Your highness!” Xander exclaimed with surprise. “I thought you were with Erolith?”

            “Oh pish, I just could not stand to be around that trout a moment longer. He so bores me –not like you, Sir Xander. You are so very excitable.” Aloienne explained, stepping over to the railing and perching herself atop it.

            “I am?” asked Xander in amazement.

            “Well of course! You are the savior of Sharlarrio! What could possibly be more interesting than that, pray tell?”

            “Ah, I see. That’s all anyone thinks of me? Just someone to toss into battle?”

            “No, of course not! Well, not to me anyways. I think you’re extremely interesting. So unlike the boys around here in Eroth. They are all so prim and proper. Never any fun at all.” Aloienne declared.

            “Well, what about me is so exciting?” Xander pried.

            “The mere fact that you are human for one thing. It drives the Elders bonkers though, that our savior is a mortal man.” Aloienne explained.

            “Aren’t there humans in Sharlarrio though?”

            “Well of course there are, but like I told you, they live off to the west, past Cymbiir. In the province of Arl. I’ve never been there.”

            “What else lives here –in Sharlarrio I mean?”

            “Oh, the normal variety of Sirens, Centaurs, and Dragons. Then there’s the faeries of course, and pixies. The general forest creatures like squirrels and unicorns, and Elion-knows what’s lurking in the Phelorna Sea.”

            Xander’s head was spinning. This was the first time it really hit him that he really was in a complete fantasy world. Sirens? Faeries? And he was supposed to be their “savior?” How could this even be real? All these thoughts made his head spin. Xander suddenly felt dizzy and tired.

            “Aloienne, maybe you should go, I’m feeling a bit tired.” Xander suggested, helping Aloienne down from the railing.

            “Oh but you can’t go to bed yet! It is only sundown! And we are having a grand festival tonight to celebrate your arrival!” Aloienne insisted.

            “A celebration?” Xander blinked, puzzled. “Now? On this short notice?”

            “Well of course! You start major training in the morning and we won’t have time to celebrate once the war begins!” she rationalized.

            “Well, what’s this festival? What am I supposed to wear? I don’t have any formal clothes.”

            “Oh, you silly boy, of course my father has had clothes made for you. We couldn’t just let you be presented to all of Eroth dressed in that!”

            Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and Erendriel poked her head through the door. She crept in with what appeared to Xander’s clothes for the festival. She placed the clothes on the bed, curtsied, and left.

            “See? Here! This is lovely! You will look quite dashing in this!” Aloienne gushed over the white tunic and pants with a red and gold cape. Xander eyed the clothes and looked at Aloienne. He picked up the silk tunic and held it up to his chest.

            “Ahh, yes, perfect!” sighed Aloienne. “I know you’re shy, so I’ll just step outside here and wait for you. They are preparing the feast downstairs!”

            Xander shook his head as Aloienne left the room. “Things happen so quickly here,” he thought. “One minute I’m falling into a mystical spring. The next, I’m dressing for a damn feast!” he then thought of how utterly crazy he sounded and how nobody back home would ever believe this when he got back. Well, if he got back. Through all this, he still had to wonder if this could be a dream. It was just too wonderful and fantastic compared to his dreary life in Chicago.

            Xander smiled as a lightning bug flitted past him on the balcony. He reached out to try and catch the iridescent firefly, but it bit him. As he pulled his hand away, he realized that it wasn’t a firefly, or even an insect at all, but a tiny, glowing pixie. The sprite raced up to his face, squeaking incomprehensibly at Xander. He had no doubt they were insults. Xander couldn’t help but chuckle at the miniscule spectacle.

Then a knock on his door brought him back to reality, and he remembered he was supposed to be getting dressed. He quickly threw on the silk tunic and pants and answered the door. There stood the stately Olithir. Xander nodded his head in respect, and stood aside so that Olithir could enter the room. The Elven king nodded in return.

“I see you have received your ceremonial garb for the evening.”

“Yes, sir,” Olithir sat on the end of Xander’s bed.

“Are you ready for tonight then young Champion? You will be meeting many important elves. And also many other Eroth inhabitants.” Olithir explained.

“Sounds daunting.” Xander admitted.

“You will be fine young Chosen One, just fine. The entire kingdom is aflutter with the word of your arrival.”

Xander gulped nervously and followed Olithir as he exited the bedchamber.

~Cymbiir, Amora’s Fortress~

            Just outside Eroth, past the lush, green trees and happy homes of the forest elves, loomed the bubbling volcanic mountains of Cymbiir. A stark, shadow against the ashy, smouldering sky. And inside the enormous stone fortress, resided Amora, the terror of Sharlarrio. In her vast grand hall, she sat upon a throne of black marble. Her eyes glittered like rubies as she watched Olithir lead Xander out of the bedchamber in her crystal ball.

            “So the prophecy is true.” Rothomiir, Amora’s prized soldier, sitting at his usual place on her right hand side snorted.

            “He is but a mere boy. What threat could he pose to us?”

            “Size does not measure strength, dear Rothomiir, surely you must know that. The boy is slight, but he has a virtuous soul. She scrunched her face at the thought. “bleck, such a clean soul, he has. It makes me sick.” Rothomiir made a gagging, gurgling noise deep in his throat.

            “Your grace, he is only a human, I could merely slit his throat,” he offered, his mouth watering, relishing the smell of blood spilled.

            “No, dear Rothomiir, we will wait. All good things, to those who wait.” Amora smiled darkly.