Post by Lady Elestirne on Mar 22, 2010 15:48:56 GMT -5
This is the final,revised version of the first chapter of my book in progress, tentatively titled Starbrow:Crown of Stars. Other chapters fortcoming, once revised and edited-especially if I get favorable comments
Legacy of Artanor:
Starbrow: Crown of Stars
A Night of Stars
Light from the pale crescent moon faintly illuminated the land; dimly reflecting off the still waters of a quiet river. In contrast to the pale moonlight the stars shone brighter, far brighter; blazing in the heavens like unquenchable silver fires.
All was silent-unusually so even for the late hour. It seemed as though there was a sense of expectancy in the air, as if all the land were waiting; holding its breath for something as yet unknown. For, on the night of the summer solstice as this was- a night of strong magic, strange happenings, and omens-anything might be expected to occur, and could.
Through this night, silent as the surrounding land, two figures moved; making their way along a quiet river whose waters shone silver in the starlight. One was male, and the other, female. After a moment, a thin shaft of the pale moonlight illuminated the pair. By this faint light it was seen that they were elves and that the woman was heavy with child; very close to due. The two elves continued to follow the river north past the white city on its opposite banks- whose walls shone faintly despite the night’s darkness; heading for the woods beyond and about it. After another few minutes the pair had entered the forest, making their way with care. Here the elf-woman began to stumble-much less agile in her pregnancy than she otherwise would have been. The other steadied her each time; his concern evident. “Are you up to this? Perhaps we should go back to the city.” The elf’s spoke softly, yet his voice carried clearly; sounding out of place in the unusually still and silent night.
There was a faint shimmer of gold as the elf-woman shook her head and answered; her soft, fatigued voice sounding equally out-of-place. “I will not have mine-our- child born in a city of cold stone. I am a sylvan child, daughter of the forests. I was born in the woods, as was my mother before me, and her mother before her, and so shall my child be born.”
“It was not always cold stone my heart. Once it was full of beauty, of life and light. Long, long ago.” The elf sighed and his voice dropped lower. “Before the dispossession of the royal family, the ensuing feuds between the nobles of the high elves and the falling-out between the wood-elves and high elves. In that time of light and peace you would have been proud to bear our child there Amaurea my love.”
“But that was generations-millennia-ago. That time is long past, and lost; no more than a memory and shadow now. It was not the fault of your kind that the friendship waned, nor of mine.” Now the elf-woman sighed; her melodic voice taking on a wistful tone, both sad and gentle. “Nor ours my love-though I had hoped our love would heal that ancient rift, would restore peace between the two kindreds, even though our union was forbidden.” A pause, then she continued, almost urgently. “You have the gift of sight Elnor. What have you seen-for our child or otherwise? Have you seen evil? Good?”
“Your husband has seen nothing,” said a new voice suddenly before the dark-haired elf could answer, “but you need not fear for the life you carry within you.”
A third elf stepped out from where he had been standing in the shadows. Instantly, Elnor unsheathed his sword and stepped forward protectively; shielding his wife from the potential threat. A few tense moments passed by, then the warrior lowered his sword; relief, respect, and even what might have been fear, in his voice. “Galuil.”
The stranger nodded and bowed ceremoniously. His silver hair and white robes lent a very mysterious effect as they shimmered and glinted in the faint light.
“Greetings to you Elnor-and you also Amaurea, rightly named ‘the Golden’ among your own people.” The elf paused and looked to the sky. “A night of stars,” he murmured softly, as if to himself, “and to come, a star-eyed child; born on Solstice night.” Raising his voice, he suddenly addressed the two. “Come. We must make haste.”
“What? Why? Whatever for? Amaurea is tired. You cannot expect her-” Elnor’s indignant inquiries were cut short, Galuil had not answered but turned and strode deeper into the forest purposefully; not looking back. With a strangled oath of frustration, Elnor hastened after as quickly as he dared given Amaurea’s delicate condition; struggling to keep sight of the mystic. After several, arduous minutes the two broke out of the trees into a small clearing open to the skies and stars. Galuil was already there, his back to them. The mystic’s white robes and silver hair seemed to shine even brighter here and his face was raised to the stars. He seemed unaware of them. Elnor left Amaurea standing on the edge of the clearing and catching her breath, and strode towards the mystic. “Galuil, what is all this about? If you’ve endangered Amaurea by this then I’ll...I’ll...” Elnor ceased as he realized Galuil was paying him no heed. For a few minutes, the mystic remained as he was then he slowly and deliberately turned to face the younger elf; fixing him with such a direct and piercing stare Elnor felt a chill crawl up his spine. “‘What is all this about?’”, the older elf echoed. “Why, the beginning of a prophecy. More than the birth of your child will happen tonight. All the signs point to something momentous.”
Elnor started to speak again- fully intending to ask the seer just what he meant-but the words died in his mouth as his jaw dropped. High above them in the hard black vault of the sky a star was falling; streaking across the heavens in a blaze of silver-white brilliance so bright it hurt to look at it. Elnor wrenched his gaze away, but saw Galuil following its progress, his arms raised as if in supplication as its light washed over the clearing; bathing them in strong silvery light. In another few moments it had disappeared, streaking out of sight. A few minutes later the ground trembled faintly, as though a giant somewhere had rolled over.
Stunned, Elnor turned to his wife. “Amaurea did you see that-“ the words died on his lips as he saw that the elf-woman had doubled up as if in great pain and fallen to her knees; holding her swollen belly. In the shock of the fallen star’s appearance her cry had gone unheard. “Amaurea? Galuil...Amaurea!” The seer turned at the note of panic in Elnor’s voice and his strange, pale eyes took in the downed elf-woman and he hastened to her side with Elnor.
Coolly, the mystic gave instructions and Elnor followed in a daze of fear: hold her hand, bathe her forehead, keep her warm, make her comfortable, give her a drink. Dimly, he was aware of the aged seer muttering instructions and reassurances to Amaurea as well: breathe, focus, push-no, push harder, it’s almost over, breathe-no, breathe deep, relax. The minutes dragged on with no sound other than the elf-woman’s labored breathing and Galuil’s voice. Finally, after what seemed like hours, it was over and the baby delivered safely.
Galuil’s strange words about a prophecy forgotten-and indeed, the seer himself as well-Elnor knelt at his wife’s side; only dimly aware of Galuil swaddling the babe-a girl-and placing her into Amaurea’s arms. The elf-woman was exhausted-nearly asleep-but her fair face glowed with happiness. In wonderment, Elnor looked at the bundle of white she held, their daughter. Never before had he seen anything so tiny and perfectly formed. With a faint smile, he wondered if all parents felt the same when seeing the life they had brought into being for the first time...
Galuil touched his shoulder lightly and, startled, the dark-haired elf turned to face him. The seer beckoned and Elnor got up to follow him-though with great reluctance. “Amaurea and the child…,”he protested worriedly.
“Will be fine,” finished Galuil without even a backwards glance as he started to move off. “No harm will befall them. Amaurea is a sylvan daughter, at home in the forests, and the young one-well... They shall be fine. Do not worry about them. Come, there are things we must speak of.”
“What things?” asked Elnor, refusing to move further. “What do you speak of old one?” He cast another worried look to his wife. She seemed to have fallen asleep from exhaustion.
Galuil sighed, but stopped. “Know you the prophecy?”
“Of course.” Elnor had been told it as a young child. It concerned one of royal blood to come who would heal the ancient feud, unite the two elven kindreds, sit the throne and return the land to its past days of glory and light. The prophecy also mentioned that the child to come would, curiously, be born of both kindreds. How that could be when the two had not had friendly relations for miliennia the dark-haired elf could not begin to guess. He found it a great irony that he was a seer, yet could not understand the prophecy. “What are you implying?”
The seer turned to face him; fixing him with that uncannily piercing gaze that seers seemed so oft to have and one which Elnor admitted he himself had at times. A look of what might have been irritation flashed over the aged countenance and he spoke slowly, deliberately- as if to a child. “Think Elnor. Your wife is a wood elf and you are one of the high elves. And the prophecy says…?”
Slowly, the seer’s meaning filtered through Elnor’s benumbed mind. The prophecy said the one to rule would be of both the main elven kindreds. His beloved was a wood elf and he…but...that meant that the newborn, their child… “Galuil,” he finally managed to choke out in a hoarse whisper. “You cannot mean that, that…my daughter..? How do you know?
The aged seer only nodded, ignoring Elnor’s question. “Yes Elnor, your daughter. It is hinted anyway. All the signs point to a great event. What event greater than the birth of the one meant to heal the feud and rule?”
“I…but..” Elnor was at a loss for words. When the mystic put it that way, it made sense but all the same… “Are you sure?”
Galuil gave him an exasperated look. Briefly, the younger elf thought he saw a look of pity there too, in the aged features. “Elnor youngling, very little is certain in this thing known as life. Every day is fraught with chances and choices that can make or unmake the outcome of plans laid. None of us know for sure exactly how we will be woven into the tapestry of time, nor how we will fit in the grand scheme of things. Maybe it is not for us to know, only for us to live and adapt as best we can, and make sure that we contribute to the betterment of the tapestry, not its detriment. Some things are ordained by Fate and cannot be changed, just like some of us have special destinies and cannot always choose what we are chosen for, or how we are woven. And some of us determine our fate by our actions. Am I certain? No. Do I guess? Yes. Do I hope? Most certainly.”
The seer paused, then continued, more solemnly. “You Elnor, are of royal blood-and do not dare shake your head at me. Your family may not have sat the throne since the day of the coup-which I am old enough to remember, for I was there-but royalty you are, if in hiding. And well it is that you are, for there may not be any of you left if it were not so. And Amaurea too, hails of noble blood; as a daughter of one of the princes of the wood-folk. And you are, respectively high elf and wood elf. Thus are two requirements of the prophesied one fulfilled; royal blood and parents of two kindreds. Also, it is Solstice, the eve of summer-which the prophecy also mentions. The rest remains yet to be seen. All has not yet been revealed.”
For a long moment Elnor did not speak; his face unreadable while this sank in. Finally, he turned to Galuil with an almost pleading look and a long, weary sigh. “My blood has brought me only danger and hiding, and death to all my family,” the dark-haired elf muttered unhappily, “Whether my child is what you think or no, my blood still brings her danger. If she is what you say, I would spare her the burden. If she is not, I am still concerned only for her safety and protection. ”
“No one can live the fate destined for another, though they may wish to,” said the ancient seer, almost gently. “It is not in your power to change what the fates may have in store for your daughter. But protection…that is another thing. We shall speak of it later though. Time you name your child. Surely you do not want her to be nameless?”
“I...no” It always unnerved Elnor when the mystic changed strides unexpectedly like that-and he had known the silver-haired seer since he was a toddler.”Should I tell Amaurea this?”
Galuil subjected him to another intensely piercing gaze. “It is at your discretion. She is your wife. But remember we are not certain of fate’s skein yet. Even if we did know, I’d advise not yet. Childbirth is a taxing thing and it would not do to shock her.” Elnor nodded slowly-his gaze deeply thoughtful-as the two turned and began to make their way back. They had not strayed far.
The elf-woman stirred and woke as Elnor knelt beside her and brushed her lips lightly with a soft kiss, even as he shifted a wavy golden tress away from her damp forehead. “Wake, my beloved. It is time for our child’s naming.” She smiled up at him wearily as he tenderly and carefully raised her to a sitting position. The babe stirred fretfully at her mother’s movement and Amaurea, after a fond, loving glance to the white-swaddled bundle, passed her carefully up to Elnor. “Name her well and wisely my husband. Names have power on this night.”
Taking the baby gingerly, the seer looked on the little thing with pride, but held her with fear. He felt like he was going to drop her, this fragile, warm bundle of life that he had helped start, and nervously tightened his grip. He saw that the little one already showed bits of hair that promised to be as dark as his own, darker even maybe. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but for a moment-only a moment-Elnor thought that the bits of midnight hair had shimmered with a faint, silver sheen… The points of her little ears could only just be made out.
Unexpectedly, the infant opened her eyes and Elnor very nearly dropped her as the little one turned those eyes to rest upon him in an uncannily direct stare-all the more uncanny in coming from something so young, but barely born. But that was not what had shocked him so. Rather than the clouded blue he had heard tell newborn’s eyes were, or Amaurea’s warm blue-green, or his own midnight-blue, his daughter had eyes of grey! A moment of panic seized Elnor before he realized, with great relief, that his daughter was not blind-for those grey eyes roved and focused. And not grey, he realized with a second start-for their color was too clear, too pure. His daughter’s eyes were silver-a bright clear silver that brought to mind the silver of moonbeams dancing on a moonlit river…or the glittering, radiant light of the stars that twinkled so brightly above them...
Beside Elnor, Galuil gave a start as he also saw the newborn’s eyes. The ancient seer fell back; murmuring triumphantly to himself and crossing his heart in a mystical gesture. Elnor was only half-aware of his hushed mutterings (“The final sign! The star-eyed child! Star-touched…Star-giver’s favored. Now there is no doubt!”)
Realizing that Amaurea was looking at him expectantly, yet worriedly Elnor experienced a moment of profound panic as he cast about for a suitable name to give his daughter. What can I possibly name her that suits such uniqueness?
Then, as he gazed at his daughter, he was struck by her strange, silver eyes. At the same time, he thought he saw a flicker of silver light on her brow and the longer he gazed the more it looked to him like the shadow of a starry crown. Deeply unnerved, and feeling the power of foresight on him even as he spoke, Elnor let the words come with a heavy heart.
“Alatael you are my radiant daughter, and Alatael you’ll always remain. But I give you also the name long foretold for you, the one that all shall know and call you by-yet not know the true meaning of until the time is come. I name you Elestirne.”
Galuil nodded; smiling as though he knew something the others did not, some secret known only to a select few. As indeed he did. Alatael was ‘Radience of the Glittering Stars’ and a fitting name it was indeed for a child of such beautiful and striking eyes. But the other…only elven-seers and sages of the greatest age and wisdom, the highest learning…even knew the meaning of it. For the languages of the land had changed subtly in the millennia since the prophecy had been made, and the original word was no longer used. Clever of Elnor. But Galuil knew. ‘Elestirne’-ancient form, ‘eletirme’. Starbrow.
Legacy of Artanor:
Starbrow: Crown of Stars
A Night of Stars
Light from the pale crescent moon faintly illuminated the land; dimly reflecting off the still waters of a quiet river. In contrast to the pale moonlight the stars shone brighter, far brighter; blazing in the heavens like unquenchable silver fires.
All was silent-unusually so even for the late hour. It seemed as though there was a sense of expectancy in the air, as if all the land were waiting; holding its breath for something as yet unknown. For, on the night of the summer solstice as this was- a night of strong magic, strange happenings, and omens-anything might be expected to occur, and could.
Through this night, silent as the surrounding land, two figures moved; making their way along a quiet river whose waters shone silver in the starlight. One was male, and the other, female. After a moment, a thin shaft of the pale moonlight illuminated the pair. By this faint light it was seen that they were elves and that the woman was heavy with child; very close to due. The two elves continued to follow the river north past the white city on its opposite banks- whose walls shone faintly despite the night’s darkness; heading for the woods beyond and about it. After another few minutes the pair had entered the forest, making their way with care. Here the elf-woman began to stumble-much less agile in her pregnancy than she otherwise would have been. The other steadied her each time; his concern evident. “Are you up to this? Perhaps we should go back to the city.” The elf’s spoke softly, yet his voice carried clearly; sounding out of place in the unusually still and silent night.
There was a faint shimmer of gold as the elf-woman shook her head and answered; her soft, fatigued voice sounding equally out-of-place. “I will not have mine-our- child born in a city of cold stone. I am a sylvan child, daughter of the forests. I was born in the woods, as was my mother before me, and her mother before her, and so shall my child be born.”
“It was not always cold stone my heart. Once it was full of beauty, of life and light. Long, long ago.” The elf sighed and his voice dropped lower. “Before the dispossession of the royal family, the ensuing feuds between the nobles of the high elves and the falling-out between the wood-elves and high elves. In that time of light and peace you would have been proud to bear our child there Amaurea my love.”
“But that was generations-millennia-ago. That time is long past, and lost; no more than a memory and shadow now. It was not the fault of your kind that the friendship waned, nor of mine.” Now the elf-woman sighed; her melodic voice taking on a wistful tone, both sad and gentle. “Nor ours my love-though I had hoped our love would heal that ancient rift, would restore peace between the two kindreds, even though our union was forbidden.” A pause, then she continued, almost urgently. “You have the gift of sight Elnor. What have you seen-for our child or otherwise? Have you seen evil? Good?”
“Your husband has seen nothing,” said a new voice suddenly before the dark-haired elf could answer, “but you need not fear for the life you carry within you.”
A third elf stepped out from where he had been standing in the shadows. Instantly, Elnor unsheathed his sword and stepped forward protectively; shielding his wife from the potential threat. A few tense moments passed by, then the warrior lowered his sword; relief, respect, and even what might have been fear, in his voice. “Galuil.”
The stranger nodded and bowed ceremoniously. His silver hair and white robes lent a very mysterious effect as they shimmered and glinted in the faint light.
“Greetings to you Elnor-and you also Amaurea, rightly named ‘the Golden’ among your own people.” The elf paused and looked to the sky. “A night of stars,” he murmured softly, as if to himself, “and to come, a star-eyed child; born on Solstice night.” Raising his voice, he suddenly addressed the two. “Come. We must make haste.”
“What? Why? Whatever for? Amaurea is tired. You cannot expect her-” Elnor’s indignant inquiries were cut short, Galuil had not answered but turned and strode deeper into the forest purposefully; not looking back. With a strangled oath of frustration, Elnor hastened after as quickly as he dared given Amaurea’s delicate condition; struggling to keep sight of the mystic. After several, arduous minutes the two broke out of the trees into a small clearing open to the skies and stars. Galuil was already there, his back to them. The mystic’s white robes and silver hair seemed to shine even brighter here and his face was raised to the stars. He seemed unaware of them. Elnor left Amaurea standing on the edge of the clearing and catching her breath, and strode towards the mystic. “Galuil, what is all this about? If you’ve endangered Amaurea by this then I’ll...I’ll...” Elnor ceased as he realized Galuil was paying him no heed. For a few minutes, the mystic remained as he was then he slowly and deliberately turned to face the younger elf; fixing him with such a direct and piercing stare Elnor felt a chill crawl up his spine. “‘What is all this about?’”, the older elf echoed. “Why, the beginning of a prophecy. More than the birth of your child will happen tonight. All the signs point to something momentous.”
Elnor started to speak again- fully intending to ask the seer just what he meant-but the words died in his mouth as his jaw dropped. High above them in the hard black vault of the sky a star was falling; streaking across the heavens in a blaze of silver-white brilliance so bright it hurt to look at it. Elnor wrenched his gaze away, but saw Galuil following its progress, his arms raised as if in supplication as its light washed over the clearing; bathing them in strong silvery light. In another few moments it had disappeared, streaking out of sight. A few minutes later the ground trembled faintly, as though a giant somewhere had rolled over.
Stunned, Elnor turned to his wife. “Amaurea did you see that-“ the words died on his lips as he saw that the elf-woman had doubled up as if in great pain and fallen to her knees; holding her swollen belly. In the shock of the fallen star’s appearance her cry had gone unheard. “Amaurea? Galuil...Amaurea!” The seer turned at the note of panic in Elnor’s voice and his strange, pale eyes took in the downed elf-woman and he hastened to her side with Elnor.
Coolly, the mystic gave instructions and Elnor followed in a daze of fear: hold her hand, bathe her forehead, keep her warm, make her comfortable, give her a drink. Dimly, he was aware of the aged seer muttering instructions and reassurances to Amaurea as well: breathe, focus, push-no, push harder, it’s almost over, breathe-no, breathe deep, relax. The minutes dragged on with no sound other than the elf-woman’s labored breathing and Galuil’s voice. Finally, after what seemed like hours, it was over and the baby delivered safely.
Galuil’s strange words about a prophecy forgotten-and indeed, the seer himself as well-Elnor knelt at his wife’s side; only dimly aware of Galuil swaddling the babe-a girl-and placing her into Amaurea’s arms. The elf-woman was exhausted-nearly asleep-but her fair face glowed with happiness. In wonderment, Elnor looked at the bundle of white she held, their daughter. Never before had he seen anything so tiny and perfectly formed. With a faint smile, he wondered if all parents felt the same when seeing the life they had brought into being for the first time...
Galuil touched his shoulder lightly and, startled, the dark-haired elf turned to face him. The seer beckoned and Elnor got up to follow him-though with great reluctance. “Amaurea and the child…,”he protested worriedly.
“Will be fine,” finished Galuil without even a backwards glance as he started to move off. “No harm will befall them. Amaurea is a sylvan daughter, at home in the forests, and the young one-well... They shall be fine. Do not worry about them. Come, there are things we must speak of.”
“What things?” asked Elnor, refusing to move further. “What do you speak of old one?” He cast another worried look to his wife. She seemed to have fallen asleep from exhaustion.
Galuil sighed, but stopped. “Know you the prophecy?”
“Of course.” Elnor had been told it as a young child. It concerned one of royal blood to come who would heal the ancient feud, unite the two elven kindreds, sit the throne and return the land to its past days of glory and light. The prophecy also mentioned that the child to come would, curiously, be born of both kindreds. How that could be when the two had not had friendly relations for miliennia the dark-haired elf could not begin to guess. He found it a great irony that he was a seer, yet could not understand the prophecy. “What are you implying?”
The seer turned to face him; fixing him with that uncannily piercing gaze that seers seemed so oft to have and one which Elnor admitted he himself had at times. A look of what might have been irritation flashed over the aged countenance and he spoke slowly, deliberately- as if to a child. “Think Elnor. Your wife is a wood elf and you are one of the high elves. And the prophecy says…?”
Slowly, the seer’s meaning filtered through Elnor’s benumbed mind. The prophecy said the one to rule would be of both the main elven kindreds. His beloved was a wood elf and he…but...that meant that the newborn, their child… “Galuil,” he finally managed to choke out in a hoarse whisper. “You cannot mean that, that…my daughter..? How do you know?
The aged seer only nodded, ignoring Elnor’s question. “Yes Elnor, your daughter. It is hinted anyway. All the signs point to a great event. What event greater than the birth of the one meant to heal the feud and rule?”
“I…but..” Elnor was at a loss for words. When the mystic put it that way, it made sense but all the same… “Are you sure?”
Galuil gave him an exasperated look. Briefly, the younger elf thought he saw a look of pity there too, in the aged features. “Elnor youngling, very little is certain in this thing known as life. Every day is fraught with chances and choices that can make or unmake the outcome of plans laid. None of us know for sure exactly how we will be woven into the tapestry of time, nor how we will fit in the grand scheme of things. Maybe it is not for us to know, only for us to live and adapt as best we can, and make sure that we contribute to the betterment of the tapestry, not its detriment. Some things are ordained by Fate and cannot be changed, just like some of us have special destinies and cannot always choose what we are chosen for, or how we are woven. And some of us determine our fate by our actions. Am I certain? No. Do I guess? Yes. Do I hope? Most certainly.”
The seer paused, then continued, more solemnly. “You Elnor, are of royal blood-and do not dare shake your head at me. Your family may not have sat the throne since the day of the coup-which I am old enough to remember, for I was there-but royalty you are, if in hiding. And well it is that you are, for there may not be any of you left if it were not so. And Amaurea too, hails of noble blood; as a daughter of one of the princes of the wood-folk. And you are, respectively high elf and wood elf. Thus are two requirements of the prophesied one fulfilled; royal blood and parents of two kindreds. Also, it is Solstice, the eve of summer-which the prophecy also mentions. The rest remains yet to be seen. All has not yet been revealed.”
For a long moment Elnor did not speak; his face unreadable while this sank in. Finally, he turned to Galuil with an almost pleading look and a long, weary sigh. “My blood has brought me only danger and hiding, and death to all my family,” the dark-haired elf muttered unhappily, “Whether my child is what you think or no, my blood still brings her danger. If she is what you say, I would spare her the burden. If she is not, I am still concerned only for her safety and protection. ”
“No one can live the fate destined for another, though they may wish to,” said the ancient seer, almost gently. “It is not in your power to change what the fates may have in store for your daughter. But protection…that is another thing. We shall speak of it later though. Time you name your child. Surely you do not want her to be nameless?”
“I...no” It always unnerved Elnor when the mystic changed strides unexpectedly like that-and he had known the silver-haired seer since he was a toddler.”Should I tell Amaurea this?”
Galuil subjected him to another intensely piercing gaze. “It is at your discretion. She is your wife. But remember we are not certain of fate’s skein yet. Even if we did know, I’d advise not yet. Childbirth is a taxing thing and it would not do to shock her.” Elnor nodded slowly-his gaze deeply thoughtful-as the two turned and began to make their way back. They had not strayed far.
The elf-woman stirred and woke as Elnor knelt beside her and brushed her lips lightly with a soft kiss, even as he shifted a wavy golden tress away from her damp forehead. “Wake, my beloved. It is time for our child’s naming.” She smiled up at him wearily as he tenderly and carefully raised her to a sitting position. The babe stirred fretfully at her mother’s movement and Amaurea, after a fond, loving glance to the white-swaddled bundle, passed her carefully up to Elnor. “Name her well and wisely my husband. Names have power on this night.”
Taking the baby gingerly, the seer looked on the little thing with pride, but held her with fear. He felt like he was going to drop her, this fragile, warm bundle of life that he had helped start, and nervously tightened his grip. He saw that the little one already showed bits of hair that promised to be as dark as his own, darker even maybe. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but for a moment-only a moment-Elnor thought that the bits of midnight hair had shimmered with a faint, silver sheen… The points of her little ears could only just be made out.
Unexpectedly, the infant opened her eyes and Elnor very nearly dropped her as the little one turned those eyes to rest upon him in an uncannily direct stare-all the more uncanny in coming from something so young, but barely born. But that was not what had shocked him so. Rather than the clouded blue he had heard tell newborn’s eyes were, or Amaurea’s warm blue-green, or his own midnight-blue, his daughter had eyes of grey! A moment of panic seized Elnor before he realized, with great relief, that his daughter was not blind-for those grey eyes roved and focused. And not grey, he realized with a second start-for their color was too clear, too pure. His daughter’s eyes were silver-a bright clear silver that brought to mind the silver of moonbeams dancing on a moonlit river…or the glittering, radiant light of the stars that twinkled so brightly above them...
Beside Elnor, Galuil gave a start as he also saw the newborn’s eyes. The ancient seer fell back; murmuring triumphantly to himself and crossing his heart in a mystical gesture. Elnor was only half-aware of his hushed mutterings (“The final sign! The star-eyed child! Star-touched…Star-giver’s favored. Now there is no doubt!”)
Realizing that Amaurea was looking at him expectantly, yet worriedly Elnor experienced a moment of profound panic as he cast about for a suitable name to give his daughter. What can I possibly name her that suits such uniqueness?
Then, as he gazed at his daughter, he was struck by her strange, silver eyes. At the same time, he thought he saw a flicker of silver light on her brow and the longer he gazed the more it looked to him like the shadow of a starry crown. Deeply unnerved, and feeling the power of foresight on him even as he spoke, Elnor let the words come with a heavy heart.
“Alatael you are my radiant daughter, and Alatael you’ll always remain. But I give you also the name long foretold for you, the one that all shall know and call you by-yet not know the true meaning of until the time is come. I name you Elestirne.”
Galuil nodded; smiling as though he knew something the others did not, some secret known only to a select few. As indeed he did. Alatael was ‘Radience of the Glittering Stars’ and a fitting name it was indeed for a child of such beautiful and striking eyes. But the other…only elven-seers and sages of the greatest age and wisdom, the highest learning…even knew the meaning of it. For the languages of the land had changed subtly in the millennia since the prophecy had been made, and the original word was no longer used. Clever of Elnor. But Galuil knew. ‘Elestirne’-ancient form, ‘eletirme’. Starbrow.