BECMI Chapter 219 – The Sidhe Council

Nine elves were there to greet me. Six held seats around the center throne of the seventh, and two were standing. There were… eleven other Seats scattered about the place, but they were not occupied. Seats for minor Clanmasters/Chiefs to sit in, if they bothered to show up, but they seldom did. Those here represented the major tribes of the Sidheduiche, the king was nominally of no clan and all clans at once as part of his station, one of the attendants was the wife and advisor of a Clanmaster, and the other an advisor of the king and the nominal general of the whole kingdom.Clan Rokku, or ‘the Climbers’, were the merchant clan of the kingdom, their symbol a Lumina Tree with five ‘suns’ above it the color of common coins: copper, silver, electrum, gold, and platinum. Clanmaster Hyldruis was a master trader and a Seven, short for a Sidhe male at just about my height, black of hair and beard, and even a little on the portly side, with fashions that echoed those of Federyn from twenty years ago that had become more common attire, done up in fine elven work and thread to look quite good.

Clan Eremyr, ‘the Noble’, was the original Clan of Belle’s own Erewans, and the former clan of the current elf-king, Lymeril. The Clanmaster was Belle’s maternal great aunt, Brenewyl, an Eight, one of the great craft managers and artisans of the kingdom, riding herd over a bunch of cat-like artisans who absolutely refused to work anything like devoted hours. She was a tall silver-gray-haired elfin in fine up-styled crafter’s attire who was probably in the best spot for her to be. The symbol of the clan was a unicorn rampant wearing a crown, a reference to an agreement long ago that had unicorns emigrate to the forest and help bless it with their presence.

Clan Fydelea, ‘the Faithful’, was the newest of the major clans, being an immigrant here from a disaster in the land of Sylvuna, which all the Sidhe had once come from. They were zealots of Corellin with chips on their shoulder about fleeing from their homelands, known adventurers, rather anti-human specists (the disaster was believed to be a human invasion), and experts on the Lumina trees whose magic was at the heart of Sidhe society. Their symbol was a Lumina Tree with a starburst upon a shield within it.

Their Clanmaster Nymlyph was withered and aged before his time, and I could instantly see the Curse upon him, sapping at his physical vitality and turning him into a shriveled, rather withered reflection of himself, his chair actually atop a Disk so it could carry him around. His eyes were dark, intense, and driven, with a determination behind them that had carried his clan out of disaster. He was still a Fourteen Elven Wizard, however...

Clan Uainel (‘the Tenders’) was the major Clan that had absorbed Luswyr’s tribe of the Hulliwyl at the founding of the Relarin. They were traditional elves who were nevertheless great explorers, hunters, rangers, scouts, and foresters, maintaining lush gardens and the vitality of the nation as the self-appointed caretakers of the whole of the Relarin. Their Clanmaster was Lyalirn Far-rover, a crusty old white-haired fellow in traditional forester leathers even here, with little to no interest in anything outside of Sidheduiche and only beneficial for his knowledge of every inch of the forest, not for political control of the people inside it. The Clan’s symbol was a spear impaling a wyvern, a euphemism for killing anything that poisoned the realm.

Clan Longstrider was the most isolationist and elf-centric of the tribes, wholly focused with the elves of the Relarin and no other races considered at all, with elves from outside the nation given the side-eye. Their territory held some of the strongest beneficial magic points in the whole forest, and thus they had become the most magically adept of the clans overall, teaching most of the Elven Wizards in the nation. Their leader was called Demonhunter, his newest Life-name earned after hunting down an escaped fiend from the Bloodhorn point. He was tall, muscular, and in very finely tooled leathers, the most accomplished monster hunter in the kingdom, sitting at a firm Rank E. His clan’s symbol was golden stag horns on a green field.

His wife Coolhands was here in support of him… and was actually a Colarajo elfin, Dona Domina de Zorozo! She was also an Elven Wizard/18, and would have been the most powerful spellcaster of her House back in Zanzyr, if she had stayed there. Her dark skin stood out among the pale tans and bronzes of the Sidhe, but the quietly lovely elfin didn’t look out of place or uncomfortable at all as she leaned on the chair of her mate and regarded me confidently in turn.

Clan Fierlunl considered itself the original clan of the founder of Sidheduiche, King Feirlunl, who had gone on to achieve Immortality under his mentor and Patron Corellin. They thus considered themselves keepers of elven history and culture, constantly looking to do things like their ancestor had done, dressing in clothing from two thousand years ago. They were thus the most conservative of the clans, if not isolationists, constantly looking to see what Fierlunl would have done, looking back instead of to the future.

Their Clanmaster position was actually called ‘Chief Librarian’, and Clanmaster Dierluml looked like one. I schooled my face at the hilarious sight of his long and uncombed white beard, sure sign of an elf who hated being outside, as well as his pale skin. He was an Elven Wizard/8, and likely of no help at all in a situation that didn’t have clear historical precedent. The Clan’s symbol was a white scroll within a Lumina tree.

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Last of the Clans present was Red Sword, basically a clan that formed the core of the military for the entire kingdom. Formed from the bodyguards of King Fierlunl, they had taken up the center of the fight in every battle for the nation, and continued doing the lifelong work of soldiers even now, making them much different from the average laid-back elf.

Their Clanmaster was the tallest and strongest-built elf here, deeply tanned, red-haired like much of his clan, and wearing elven mail even here, all in white trimmed out with red. Like the Grunalf and Long Runners, he used a Life-name instead of his real one, and was simply called Crimson Sharp-tongue, for the amount of blood that he’d shed as the finest soldier in the nation, and for the blunt observations he brought to the Council. His viewpoint was wholly military and elf-centric, but he was not an isolationist so much as aware of what a non-elven saboteur could do to Sidheduiche. He was also Rank L, and studying me intensely, trying to figure out what kind of threat I was to them.

Standing next to the king was a white-haired muscular older elf with much better groomed facial hair than Clanmaster Dierluml. He was Gelfernador, General of Alfheim, an old companion of the king… and a shadenelf, now adopted into the Eremyr Clan for his valor and services to Sidheduiche.

I barely looked at him, the visual dismissal that of an attendant upon his king, which satisfied him that he was being ignored. The Amulet which shielded him from Divination magic was hidden under his finely-tooled ceremonial leathers, but the spell I’d used to had been at VIII, and had easily overcome it.

Lastly was King Lymeril himself, also studying me with great curiosity. He, like all the elf-kings before him, was a former adventurer, spending nearly two centuries outside the Relarin before returning home. He was of average height, compact and athletic build, with golden hair, fair skin, finely stitched royal attire that was somewhere between elven and Federyn in design and immaculate in its taste and make, and the alert, shrewd manner of a veteran I Rank Warrior Path elf.

Castellan Removyl cleared his throat and announced smoothly, “Lady Edge of Zanzyr, Cryptomancer and Wizardess,” he said, clearly knowing at least some of my history.

The introduction sharpened the attention of some of them, as Belle was also a Cryptomancer and, despite their best efforts, none of the Secret Arts of Zanzyr could be learned in Sidehduiche, even in the best of the magical hotspots of the forest. Elven students had secretly tried repeatedly to pass on the methods within Sidheduiche, but had failed miserably every time, to the consternation of all involved.

Zanzyr might not have been a magical elven forest, but it had magic and power all its own yet, and the elves hadn’t been able to duplicate it.

I curtsied with due elegance to the assembled Clanmasters, leaving to stand alone. I noted that the table in the center of the chamber was mounted on living roots, and designed to pivot around and extend itself. Right now, it was in an arc facing me, but it could easily turn the roots and complete a full circle of variable size, allowing all the Council to sit together as equals. “Councilors. A pleasure to meet you at last. Belle has long spoken of the noble leaders of the Sidheduiche, and indicated that you were interested in meeting me.”

That statement earned mixed messages, especially from the Longstrider lord. Coolhands also looked less than impressed, but she’d inherited a dislike of the Erewan elves, so I ignored it.

“Your appearance is quite as extraordinary as your ability, if the words of my cousin are to be believed.” King Lymeril was one of Belle’s paternal great uncles. “May I ask what your lineage is, and where you hail from?”

“My father was a dhampir, a son of Prince Morphail Bludevich-Jubvanyl of Boldavia in Zanzyr. His name is Boraz, we have never met, Your Majesty,” I replied smoothly, startling all of them. “My mother is Keffe, of the Klattereins Clan of the shadenelves of the Sternvult in the Deep Underdark.”

There was a most pregnant pause as they processed what I’d said. Then they realized what I’d said.

Elves shot to their feet, crying out in alarm. Spells flashed, magic sparkled, and swords cleared scabbards.

Half a dozen magical effects converged on me, to grasp and hold and enfeeble and do other inappropriate things. They all faded away as a similar number of black skulls with roses in their eyes manifested in front of them, drinking them down and laughing in mocking tones at the spellcasters before fading abruptly away.

Even the king had his hand on his sword, but I made no move for , and indeed looked like nothing had happened at all, completely ignoring the very tense postures and readiness to attack.

“Your Majesty, you should retreat from this woman immediately!” General Gelfernador proclaimed, his glowing Sword out and pointing at me, while something uneasy flickered in his eyes as I raised my gaze to meet his.

“Helamong of the Prommulu, did you ever disclose to King Lymeril that you were also a shadenelf?” I asked him archly, my voice cutting through the calls and cries and the doors being thrown open behind me.

There was absolute silence, and then the heads slowly turned around to stare at the stolid old elf, longtime friend of the king and one of the most trusted men in the entire Sidheduiche.

Who also had his Sword out next to his king.