Ir kalienen dthe Telyeni, or “A meeting of the noble families” is one of those duties that cannot be avoided - if you happen to belong to one of the families in question. Size matters in Rienmari society; families seek to bring along as many members of the extended family as possible. Numbers equals votes, equals influence. These gatherings are the nearest thing the Rienmari have to an organised government. Decisions are taken between the families to which the rest of society comply.

In settled times, 50 or more cycles of seasons can pass between meetings. This is the fourth in the last two cycles. The events of what is already being called “The Great War” continue to resonate through the ancient forest and beyond. The raw pain of loss - so very many lives lost. The shock of the disaster which tore the very fabric of the continent almost in two. The damage to large areas of the sacred forest. The continued problem of pockets of Yoth Jaal (deep-spawn) and enemy fighters, whose presence within the forest continues to cause pain and death like a festering wound. The need now to maintain watch over The Breach.

These and many other matters require attention. Of equal importance, though not openly admitted, is the need to ensure the families’ continued survival and influence. Deals are struck at these gatherings; marriages arranged that are advantageous to dynasties (if not the unfortunate youngsters involved). Influence is bartered and traded like coin, enriching all parties. Favours are given, repayment saved for a future time (the debt never forgotten). Such it has ever been. There are those who thrive in this environment… and those for whom the whole process is a tedious and petty endurance.

Your presence - yet again - is necessary as like many families among the nobility, your family has suffered in the war. Almost all of the senior generations are gone, along with their presence and wisdom (also their long-held prejudices, grudges and jealousies). Your father now heads your own family group and though none pretend that you are the “favoured child”, your absence is unthinkable. You must mingle, you must be seen, you must repeat the opinions and desires of your elders to others like yourself. You must learn of any weaknesses or gossip which might allow your family to gain an advantage. You must avoid any misstep that might embarrass or shame the family name. You might be forgiven for reflecting that fighting the war was easier than trying to navigate the politics of its aftermath!

The meeting is managed by the eldest present - currently Gerelainen Syllentir, who is among the last of his generation alive at three thousand years old. He has the authority over who may speak. All questions for debate are posed through him, and motions are framed for voting by him. It is quite an elevation for the Syllentir family who were among the smaller of the families pre-war. The resentment towards them is palpable, yet at the same time, families compete to flatter, ingratiate and win influence.

One small glimmer of light now shines to bring you hope. A week has passed - already longer than is customary for these gatherings. It must, surely, be dissolved soon. Indeed, perhaps this very afternoon, since word has reached you that the families are gathering and your presence is required at pen-ronlaren, the ancient circular clearing in which these meetings have been held for thousands of years.

You are not the first to arrive, but you are among the first. Pen-ronlaren is a place which stills and awes even the heart of an elf (or half-elf).  A great circular amphitheatre, surrounded by massive ancient oaks. Each family has a banner placed around the edge, in front of which they gather once the meeting is called to order. At present, the families mingle. You see your father with the other Allanyri (Generals) deep in discussion. Your mother is yet to arrive. A couple of your half-brothers are trading barbed insults with members of another family. There are few here you would willingly speak to but there are a handful.

You see Breylyn Syllentir, who you have known since you were very young. She is smiling politely while five members of different families, all far older than her, attempt to win her affections.

Off to the right you spy Master Menarius, the wizard (Loremaster) who first introduced you to the possibilities of the arcane, as well as literature, history and mathematics. He stands alone, wearing the haunted look of all mages who participated in the Great Casting and survived.

Down towards the center of pen-ronlaren you spot another childhood friend, Feamal Gillyn. His shoulders bear the improbable burden of leadership of his own family now . The family almost universally took up arms - and were almost universally slaughtered - in the bitter build up to the war’s conclusion. He wears ancient plate armour belonging to his great-grandfather. It is scored and tarnished but the embossed eye of Sentaurus is just visible on the breastplate.

 I stand off to the side, keeping a bit more to myself as I watched the conversations of those go on. As important as it was for me to be here, it was not something I was most fond of being at. Social environments like this were things I usually avoided with as much effort as I possibly could. I kept a hood half up on my head, enough to hide the more half elven ears that did not match up as much with the other elves. Watching those that I knew I could speak to, Master Menarius was the only one that I felt somewhat comfortable approaching due to where he stood and the lack of people around him. I slowly make my way towards him, careful to try and avoid contact with other people. The last thing I wanted to go through was slurs towards my half bred nature.

As I make my way towards Menarius, I do take an opportunity to take a glance towards Breylyn and Feamal. I wanted to talk to both of them greatly. It had been some time since I really got to speak with them since each of us had begun to take up our family responsibilities. However, something held me back from approaching them: fear. The last year had been one of deep fear from feeling more and more animosity about my mixed racial nature, and given that each of them were in a situation that would draw attention to myself, I much more preferred to remain back and be an onlooker to both of them.

As I approach Master Menarius, I give a slight bow of my head, followed by a small gesture of respect in a hand gesture that I was taught by him. "Hello Master Menarius. I am pleased to see you here."

Menarius turns, his blank, dark eyes flicker in recognition and a shadow of a smile forms on his lips. "Three blessings to you, boy. It eases my heart to see you, and looking so well." He pauses and seems to struggle for a moment to regain his train of thought. "I saw Carthriel a couple of months back. He's set aside his studies and joined the garrison in the north.  I hope you can find your own path in these changed times.  I'm sorry, boy, truly sorry that your studies were cut short so early."  He sighs and gazes at his hands.  It's the first time you have seen your old loremaster up close.  You remember his hands as nimble and deft, weaving cantrips and illusions in movements so fluid it was like watching the dancers at the Lord's Feast.  Now they are twisted as though afflicted with some terrible disease and the skin is horribly scarred.

Menarius was possibly the kindest and most respected individual in your life for many years. He responded to your gift and potential alone - disregarding all other factors which have caused you difficulties in Rienmari society. Carthriel was his other Junior Caster, a Teomar elf some years older than you.  He was distant and somewhat aloof - but he is that way with everyone. He treated you no differently and also showed some respect for your talents. For your part, you held Carthriel in awe. He was like an immensely talented elder brother.  Carthriel, for all his faults, always had time to explain some finer points of text, lore or technique which was troubling you.  You had feared that Carthriel had been killed.

To Menarius, you have always been (and you suspect always will be) "boy". It is almost as though he has adopted you for the son he himself never fathered.  "Boy!" he lowers his voice and looks around. "I have lost much of my former power... much... but not all.  I fear a new threat.  Stay alert, stay safe!"  Denastus' specialty was divination. It is for this reason, you suspect, that the bitterness and guilt eats at him far more than it should. He did not foresee the disaster that followed The Great Casting. "Above all, if a choice must be made, do not endanger yourself on my account.  I could not bear it!"

"Endanger myself?" I ask with a bit of a start, looking around for a moment before I returned my attention to Menarius. "Master...what-" I start to ask, but cut myself off as I went silent. If his power was mostly gone from The Great Casting, then he probably was unsure of what the danger was. "Never mind. I know better from my studies. I shall do as you requested, Master, and shall not look to endanger myself. As for my own path, that is yet to show itself," I add, glancing out towards the crowd of people. "You know as well as I how people view my...physical nature. It is not something that fits in well here..."

"Ah, yes, something I hope will trouble you less in future years." Menarius' voice begins to recover some of the strength you remember. "Attitudes change, boy. Much prejudice against your kind was also lost into The Breach. Not all that was lost there was good and pure. In these new times you may well find attitudes soften. In any case, though the partnering of Rienmari and humans is relatively rare, among the Teomari it is far more common. They embrace and accept all - so it may be again for our people." He pats your arm reassuringly. "The war has thrown many strangers together. You really think that love has not flickered its light within the darkness? It is Jephine's* pleasure and gift that it should be so. There are plenty like you who are yet to be weaned from their mothers. You shall hardly be noticed in a few years I judge."

 He smiles, and for a moment the light of life shines in his eyes again.  It is but a flicker, however. They quickly dull and the energy in his voice fades. "It is coming," he whispers. "Remember my warning!"  From the far side of pen-ronlaren there is movement and a great number of elves of all families begin to flood into the space and coalesce into their groups. The elder Syllentir is among them, and moves to take his position on a dais in the very centre.  A human stands with him wearing chain mail. His cloak bears the golden disc of the kingdom of Belanior.  You see your father detach himself from the Allanyri and move towards the family's banner where others of your family are now gathering.

"If only The Red Lady deemed me worthy of such things..." I mutter softly, pausing as I followed Master Menarius's gaze. With the others entering in and my family gathering at the banner, I look back to Master Menarius one more time, giving him a farewell bow. "I shall remember your warning, Master." I then turn, making my way back towards my father's side. As I approach, I take a moment to find where my father wishes for me to stand, before turning to look and see where Breylyn and Feamal were.

Feamal stands by his standard, one of just 10 family members. His family used to send 50 or more before the war, now this number represents the entirety of his dynasty.

Breylyn is on the edge of her family group. She looks distracted but smiles and nods when she catches your eye. 

You find yourself standing beside your mother, near the back of the group but able to see and hear everything.  Your mother is tall for a human and there are times when being taller than average yourself has its advantages. 

Gerelainen speaks, calling for order and silence. "I introduce Lord De-Veer of the Royal Court of Belanior. He has been tasked with reading a Royal Proclamation to our gathering. Lord De-Veer..."  De-Veer steps forward and takes out a roll of parchment from which he reads in a clear, strong voice.

"His Royal Majesty King Amerain III, by grace of the Gods Ruler of the Kingdom of Belanior and High Commander of the Great Alliance hereby decrees the creation of a Royal Commission of Enquiry.  The purpose of this shall be to determine the facts surrounding the disaster known by some as The Great Casting, which led to grievous loss of life. If it is deemed that this disaster was preventable, or caused by culpable incompetence or recklessness, those responsible shall be brought to justice.  It shall furthermore scrutinise the conduct of those commanding the Allied army, to ensure that any acts or omissions which led to unnecessary loss of life on the field of battle are examined and, if necessary, punished. This includes those whose command decisions and actions facilitated The Great Casting and those responsible for the disposition of forces lost to the Breach in its formation.

To further these aims, His Royal Highness shall duly appoint Lords and Ladies commissioned with powers of inquiry to ascertain such facts as they deem pertinent to achieve these aims.  These Questioners are granted rights to apprehend and detain any believed to have knowledge of, or culpability in, these matters for as long as necessary to either establish facts or for those individuals to stand trial for their wrong-doing. Refusal to cooperate with, or attempt by any to impede, obfuscate or mislead the work of the Enquiry, is hereby declared an offense against the Crown, punishable by imprisonment at His Majesty's pleasure.

All surviving mages acting under the Order of Maestos who participated in The Great Casting are ordered to make themselves known to the Questioners, and to surrender themselves to them, in order to account for their actions.  All Generals, Majors and Captains, known as Allanyri, Ventari and Unatari among the Elves, are likewise commanded to present and surrender to questioning. As High Commander of the Alliance, His Royal Majesty regards this as a military duty on the part of all allied military, of all allied races and peoples, governed by the established rules of war and military codes.

Let it be known that this enquiry deals equally with those who served in the army of Belanior itself, and shall question them as closely as it does those of other territories in the alliance.

Finally, until the Enquiry makes a formal determination of the facts, in the interests of preserving the King's peace, the practicing, teaching and study of the Arcane Arts is hereby banned, punishable by imprisonment at His Majesty's pleasure or, in egregious circumstances, summary execution by those military units attached to the Questioners.  Furthermore, the conducting of Druidic rituals and practice of Druidic magic is also banned and shall attract the same punishment and penalties as forementioned.

Long live the King!" With these words, De-Veer rolls the parchment back up and steps back to allow Gerelainen to speak once more.  The arena is absolutely hushed - stunned - at these words and at the scope of their effect. You feel the chill of fear that they carry through the assembled crowd. Your father has paled visibly and his jaw is clenched. So too are the fists at his side - unmistakable signs of his violent temper which he is generally well able to control but threatens now to explode.  He is not alone. You sense anger and the threat of violence all about you.

"De-Veer has a provisional list of names for the Questioners which will be posted for all to view." Gerelainen's voice is harsh.  With sudden insight, you suspect that he was not forewarned of the proclamation's content and is as shocked as everyone else. "The floor is open to any who wish to speak, once you have conferred amongst yourselves. I suggest an hour's recess before we convene anew."

Master’s words start making some sense to me, as my mind starts connecting what the repercussions would be for this happening. I look back towards Father for a moment to see what his response would be to such a matter, while also feeling a bit curious: From everything I knew of the Great Casting, it was the only option available. If that was the case, why is this inquiry occurring. To this point, I lean over to Mother, whispering, “Is there more to this that we should be concerned over?”

Your mother nods gravely. "Son, you have still much to learn about human nature.  It has been two years now, long enough for them to forget how fortunate we are to have won and to begin to question the cost of that victory.  If you are the commander-in-chief when those questions are asked, how better to defend your own position than to point the finger of blame firmly and publicly elsewhere?  If  punishment and blame is called for, how much better that you provide a cast of elves, wizards and druids to accept the full fury of your people's rage and grief?  This will be no inquiry - this will be a hunt in which anyone may be sport for the hounds. It will prove as dangerous to us all as the enemy we so recently defeated."

Your father strides over, his face grimmer than at any time you can remember. "The impudence!" he snarls. "Does he think we are his subordinates, that we may bear the brunt of his own people's grief and anger? What right has he to send soldiers here to arrest and detain at their will and pleasure?  He has no authority to do so!  What madness is this?  After we held the north with our own blood as a shield until Belanior's forces could be mustered and sent to aid us?" He shakes his head angrily. "I shall not yield to such demands.  Nor shall any here I'll wager!"  He turns to you. "Halfyr, make your way to Gerelainen and see if you can take a look at those names. Don't tarry too long. I need to speak to the others."  He nods to your two eldest brothers to follow him and moves off to find the other Allanyri he was talking to earlier.

A knot twists inside of me as I hear the news, a sickening sensation as I look between my family and the others that had gathered. 'A hunt for everyone...why am I not surprised at how twisted this world is...'  I think to myself as I give a bow to Father before he walks away. "As you command," I reply, giving Mother a nod as well before I approach Gerelainen to ask about the list.

As might be expected,  there is a press of people around the notice, each struggling to read it. When you finally force your way close enough to read it, you see a long list of names under headings. Scanning quickly, you spot your father's name under MILITARY WITNESSES, along with your two eldest brothers. Feamal's name is also in this section. So too is that of Gerelainen Syllentir. Under the ORDER OF MAESTOS WITNESSES heading, you see that Master Menarius is the first named. Beneath his name is your own name and Carthriel.

Turning away, you feel a pull on your arm. You see it is Feamal. "Good to see you alive my friend, " He speaks quickly. " When this gathering concludes, or sooner if you can manage it, don't tarry. You understand? Leave immediately,  and swiftly,  and head West. Far west. It's your best chance of safety. Also his." He nods towards Menarius who is swaying as one who has received a terrible shock. "Don't worry about him. We'll see him safe or die in the attempt.  This is a big forest, our forest, and they can't search it all. Head west, lie low and stay safe. If you can spare the time, pray for me."

The color on my face vanishes as soon as I read my name, taken completely by surprise that I would end up on such a list. As Feamal speaks to me, his words feel somewhat deafened as I try to put everything together. “Wha-what…what about you? What about everyone else? This isn’t right, and we all know it…” I am able to stutter out, looking back towards Mother, Father, my brothers, and the rest of my family. “…You’re saying there’s nothing I can do…not for them or for anyone…cause of my…condition…” I say somewhat softly, my speech a bit of a stutter to it.

It’s been one of my problems in life when I was under high stress. My voice starts to stutter, my legs go weak and fall out from under me, or I become overall physically impaired. It is why I never fully learned any form of magic due to my difficulty with casting anything.

"Condition? No! Your profession.  They can cast accusations around at the military but it will always be a chancy business.  The wizards and magic users, though, they will be viewed as easy prey. My bet is they'll imprison any they get their hands on on sight.  THAT could be used as leverage against your family or your former master." Feamal claps you on the shoulder.

"You do realise that most of those people who gave you a hard time over the years were just jealous, right?  It's a blessing, your mixed blood.  You retain the advantages of Elven ancestry but gain some of that immediate vitality of the humans.  They adapt so fast, learn and live with such vigour!  Look at you, progressing to Junior Caster alongside Carthriel... an elf three hundred years your senior!  They say he will be the best of his generation, the best of any Teomari for hundreds of years, and you were right there learning alongside him.  You'll find your way alright, I have no doubt. West is the safest place for you.  More forest to hide in. I doubt the Questioners will venture far into Quelimari territory - or if they do they won't be seen again!  Who knows what opportunities you will find there?"  He smiles encouragingly.

"Try not to fret about what's going on here. We'll get word to you somehow.  There are ways..." He pauses and looks around.  "It might get bad, but we'll weather it.  All storms pass as they say.  Just a shame this one has come so soon after the last."

The sickness in my stomach did not really subside at his words. His encouragement about my mixed heritage makes me feel a little better about it, but it still is hard to let go of years of hearing it told to me otherwise. Instead, I simply give a bit of a nod to him, whispering, "Alright...I will inform Father of what is on the list...then I will do what I can to make west. Should I try to get any supplies beforehand..or should I just go?"

"There are a few here who may need to leave quite swiftly," Feamal replies. "After speaking to your father, and perhaps listening awhile to what is said, make your way to my family's encampment. I'll ensure that some basic supplies are made ready for each of you to take with our blessing. Your father's thoughts will no doubt be running on similar lines to my own, I am sure he will advise you well when the time is right." He grasps your hand. "Three blessings upon you, my friend. Hel natari ora meli filimar, until we next meet, in hopefully better times."

I give a nod, trying to remain calm in a situation that would have no calm. "Hel natari ora meli filimar, Fearnal."  I say to him, squeezing his hand tightly for a moment. With that, I then turn around, heading back towards the family banner. My stomach twists and turns as I walk, looking to try and find the rest of my family quickly to pass the information along to them.

Upon receiving your report, your father seems unsurprised but grimly resolute. "It is as I feared. We shall return north to our posts, once this meeting is concluded. I am sure we can do our duty AND evade these so-called questioners if they venture so far.  Son, it is time for you to walk your own path - I do not think it lies in the high north. You have the wit and the ability to thrive, whilst avoiding trouble I think."

"This will pass," your mother adds by way of comfort. "All evil does, in the end. It is it's great weakness. Unlike love, Evil cannot long endure in the light."

"It may indeed be wise to slip away under the cover of the meeting," your father adds, "So we shall bid you farewell now. Know that your mother and I are very proud of you, always. May the Gods watch over you. Wait until attention is held by events - I think we can manage as much - then make your way to safety. Do not fear the Quelimari - they are good folk though likely to be on high alert. And you can trust the folk of Greendale. They will not be fooled by this proclamation and have always been Elf-friends."  He removes a ring from his finger and passes it to you.  "Any who fought in the north will recognise this seal. It will guarantee safe passage and friendship in many places, though perhaps keep it well hidden from those you are unsure of, especially those attached to this enquiry."

I give them both a very nervous nod, taking the finger from my father with trembling fingers. I slip it into my pocket for the time being, rather wanting to get out of here first before consider putting it on. "And are you both sure everyone else will be OK? And...you both believe I am ready for this?" I ask, nervousness in my voice as I looked at them both. For the first time in a long time, fear gripped at my heart, and it shows in the moment as I look between both of them in concern that was bubbling over.

"Of course," your mother replies with a half-amused glance at your father. "You have the best of both of us - and the worst maybe! A certain wilfulness... but this too will serve you well. It won't be forever.  Now, you stay here with me for a while until it is time. We shall watch this charade play out until your chance comes."

“Very well…” I eventually say, giving a nod as I take a deep breath to calm myself. It is still a ton to take in, and the idea of leaving them fills me with dread. However, everything seems to say there is no other option. With that, I fall in line with Mother, not saying another word unless they speak to me.