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Authors: James Barclay
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statue of Yniss that dominated the huge space.
Between the precisely set windows, the walls and domed ceiling were covered in intricate murals. They depicted the coming of Yniss to Calaius before the first elves set foot there and the trials of the elven peoples to earn the right to live with the land. They charted the work of Takaar when he split his time between the two elven homes. And above the doors was a pictorial representation of the text Takaar had written regarding the energies he claimed to have felt on Calaius, energies that came to represent the heart of the harmony.
But no mural or historical record could vie for attention with the statue of Yniss, which rose seventy feet into the dome. Yniss, the father of the elves. Yniss, who gave them the gift of living as one with the land and its denizens, with the air and with the natural earth energies that were grasped in the hand of Ix, the most capricious of gods. Auum, as ever, let his eyes feast on the statue, which was carved from a single block of flint-veined polished pale stone.
Yniss was sculpted kneeling on one leg, head looking down along the line of his right arm. The arm was extended below his bended knee, thumb and forefinger making a right angle with the rest of the fingers curled half-fist. The god was depicted as an old elf, age lines around the eyes and across the forehead. His long full hair was carved blowing back over his right shoulder.
Yniss’s body was athletic perfection. A single-shouldered robe covered little more than groin and stomach, leaving open the bunching shoulders, beautifully defined arms and powerful legs. Yniss’s eyes seemed to sparkle with life, nothing more than a trick of the water at his feet and the light in the temple.
Yniss channelled his life energy along forefinger and thumb into the harmonic pool by which he knelt, from where it spread throughout the land, bringing glory where it touched. Pipes concealed beneath the statue’s thumb and forefinger fed water from an underground spring into the pool beneath the statue’s outstretched hand.
Some believed the statue and its precisely measured water flow was the final piece in the completion of the harmony, a circle of life in effect. Auum believed in the energy that maintained the earth but the statue had been created by elves, not their gods. It was not credible to believe anything deific had been bestowed upon it.
Auum and Serrin knelt before pool and statue and prayed to Yniss to preserve them for the tasks to come. Auum felt his prayer uncertain for the first time in his life and realised it was because, uniquely, he felt uncomfortable in here. When he caught Serrin’s gaze he knew the Silent felt the same way too.
‘Walk behind me,’ said Auum.
Serrin nodded. Auum kept the pool close on his right and walked around by the statue of Yniss. It was not unheard of for the temple to be empty but it was for the doors to the contemplation chambers and reading cells to be free of guards. Within, all the greatest treasures of the elven religion were kept. A lone figure was approaching along the passageway towards them. Auum felt a euphoric relief.
‘Sildaan,’ he said. ‘We feared the temple taken. There’s blood all over the stones.’
Sildaan started, stared open-mouthed and just about managed to continue walking forward. She made a quick glance back over her shoulder.
‘I wasn’t expecting to see you,’ she said. ‘You aren’t due here.’ Sildaan was wearing the robes of a scripture priest, every part of the cream material sewn with favourite quotes and maxims. She appeared distracted and a little confused. Auum’s presence seemed to unsettle her.
‘You’re in shock. I’m sorry we weren’t here to help repel the strangers.’ Auum paused. ‘Sildaan. Where is everyone? The TaiGethen. The priests?’
Sildaan frowned. ‘Why are you here?’
‘Men are here. Their mark is all over the forest. Or it was.’
Sildaan’s head came up sharply.
Between the precisely set windows, the walls and domed ceiling were covered in intricate murals. They depicted the coming of Yniss to Calaius before the first elves set foot there and the trials of the elven peoples to earn the right to live with the land. They charted the work of Takaar when he split his time between the two elven homes. And above the doors was a pictorial representation of the text Takaar had written regarding the energies he claimed to have felt on Calaius, energies that came to represent the heart of the harmony.
But no mural or historical record could vie for attention with the statue of Yniss, which rose seventy feet into the dome. Yniss, the father of the elves. Yniss, who gave them the gift of living as one with the land and its denizens, with the air and with the natural earth energies that were grasped in the hand of Ix, the most capricious of gods. Auum, as ever, let his eyes feast on the statue, which was carved from a single block of flint-veined polished pale stone.
Yniss was sculpted kneeling on one leg, head looking down along the line of his right arm. The arm was extended below his bended knee, thumb and forefinger making a right angle with the rest of the fingers curled half-fist. The god was depicted as an old elf, age lines around the eyes and across the forehead. His long full hair was carved blowing back over his right shoulder.
Yniss’s body was athletic perfection. A single-shouldered robe covered little more than groin and stomach, leaving open the bunching shoulders, beautifully defined arms and powerful legs. Yniss’s eyes seemed to sparkle with life, nothing more than a trick of the water at his feet and the light in the temple.
Yniss channelled his life energy along forefinger and thumb into the harmonic pool by which he knelt, from where it spread throughout the land, bringing glory where it touched. Pipes concealed beneath the statue’s thumb and forefinger fed water from an underground spring into the pool beneath the statue’s outstretched hand.
Some believed the statue and its precisely measured water flow was the final piece in the completion of the harmony, a circle of life in effect. Auum believed in the energy that maintained the earth but the statue had been created by elves, not their gods. It was not credible to believe anything deific had been bestowed upon it.
Auum and Serrin knelt before pool and statue and prayed to Yniss to preserve them for the tasks to come. Auum felt his prayer uncertain for the first time in his life and realised it was because, uniquely, he felt uncomfortable in here. When he caught Serrin’s gaze he knew the Silent felt the same way too.
‘Walk behind me,’ said Auum.
Serrin nodded. Auum kept the pool close on his right and walked around by the statue of Yniss. It was not unheard of for the temple to be empty but it was for the doors to the contemplation chambers and reading cells to be free of guards. Within, all the greatest treasures of the elven religion were kept. A lone figure was approaching along the passageway towards them. Auum felt a euphoric relief.
‘Sildaan,’ he said. ‘We feared the temple taken. There’s blood all over the stones.’
Sildaan started, stared open-mouthed and just about managed to continue walking forward. She made a quick glance back over her shoulder.
‘I wasn’t expecting to see you,’ she said. ‘You aren’t due here.’ Sildaan was wearing the robes of a scripture priest, every part of the cream material sewn with favourite quotes and maxims. She appeared distracted and a little confused. Auum’s presence seemed to unsettle her.
‘You’re in shock. I’m sorry we weren’t here to help repel the strangers.’ Auum paused. ‘Sildaan. Where is everyone? The TaiGethen. The priests?’
Sildaan frowned. ‘Why are you here?’
‘Men are here. Their mark is all over the forest. Or it was.’
Sildaan’s head came up sharply.
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