[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
Less, actually. Your people are our descendants, but our blood is so thin in
your veins that it doesn't even show in you. Your people and Darian's people
have pasty-white skin, like the elves. Our people were more olive-skinned,
with black hair and dark brown eyes. My friends view the people of the
Southlands as rapists, despoilers, and half-castes."
"You mean they're bigots," she said cooly, sipping her byallar.
I winced. "Well... Yes. They're my friends, but they're also normal
Hyperborean men in that regard. Aside from what your ancestors did to our
people-"
"Which no one alive in the Southlands today even knows about save for Darian,
Swift-wing and I. The Larinians and Arcadians think they are the direct
descendants of the Hyperboreans, and have no idea about their true origins,"
Arella interjected.
I nodded. "Well, we Hyperboreans were a proud people, and when I and my
friends were alive sixteen centuries ago or so, there really weren't any other
human races we knew of. I'm sure they were out there, of course, but we had
never met any of them. So, as a whole, we never had time to get used to people
Page 14
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
with different skins. I traveled extensively in the lands of the elves and the
dwarves, so I got used to seeing people who looked different than I did, and
learned to accept them as being equal to me - but I did all that travelling
because I was searching for a way to bring Dyarzi back to me. These men didn't
do that."
Arella nodded. "Well, I understand it, but I don't know that I can forgive
them for it. It's very annoying, to say the least," she huffed.
"Well... Well, give them time, Arella. They'll come around. They all know it
was King Darian's contribution of the condemned men that made it possible for
our race to be reborn. Once they've adjusted to what's happened, they'll see
your people in a better light, I think," I said, then smiled. "Besides, not
all of them are truly bigoted against you, I think."
Arella shrugged noncommittaly, then Swift-wing spoke up. "I'm curious, Raven -
how have the monthly meetings been going with your circle?"
"Not well, really. My friends seem... I don't know. Distant. Many of them show
up only irregularly for our meetings, and many times all we do is argue
various points of order or wrangle over the merits of one or another plans
they come up with that run contrary to mine. I don't know if it's because they
can't accept me as the de facto High Master, or if it's that they're just
uncomfortable with seeing me in the body of a woman," I replied, then sighed.
"Perhaps both. Only Gorol and Faral show up regularly, and often it's only
those two. When it is, we often simply sit and sip byallar, and talk over old
times."
Arella nodded, then smiled and changed the subject. "So, today is your big
day?" she asked, gesturing at the rows of benches I'd set out. The giants had
provided the wood to make them years ago, and I had worked very hard to have
enough benches to hold all eighty-five men and eighty-nine women - the sole
survivors of my people.
I nodded, smiling. "Yes. Today we'll bring together the Mountain Healers and
the battle-mages of the Dyclonic Circle all at once. With luck, my plan will
work and they'll pair off, and our race will be reborn," I said, then reached
out to take Arella's hand. "I... I'd be very pleased if you'd stay here with
me today, and share this moment with me, Arella."
"I'd be happy to, Raven," Arella replied, squeezing my hand and smiling. "When
will they be by?"
"Well, the plan was we'd all meet here at noon," I said, glancing at the sky
for a moment through the leafy canopy of the tree above us and guessing the
time. "That's not long from now."
We waited quietly in the noonday shade, sipping our byallar and chatting of
the events in King Darian's court, where Arella still served as Court
Wizardess. Finally, the air before us shimmered, and a white-robed Hyperborean
woman appeared. She was tall and quite beautiful, her jet eyes flashing from a
regal, olive-skinned face. In her right hand, she carried her quarterstaff -
it was more than a simple weapon, however, as I knew it to be her Wizard's
Staff. It was, of course, Pelia Cydalion, the White Witch of Iolo Mountain.
"Greetings, Master Eddas Ayar. Greetings, Arella-tor," she said, bowing.
We stood and bowed in return. "Greetings, High Mistress Pelia Cydalion. How
are you today?" I replied.
"I am fine, thank you."
Arella took a moment to cast a spell of translation, as Pelia was speaking in
my native language, then smiled. "Would you like a seat, High Mistress Pelia?
We have byallar already brewed," Arella said sweetly.
"No, thank you. I'm merely here to deliver a message." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl exclamation.htw.pl
Less, actually. Your people are our descendants, but our blood is so thin in
your veins that it doesn't even show in you. Your people and Darian's people
have pasty-white skin, like the elves. Our people were more olive-skinned,
with black hair and dark brown eyes. My friends view the people of the
Southlands as rapists, despoilers, and half-castes."
"You mean they're bigots," she said cooly, sipping her byallar.
I winced. "Well... Yes. They're my friends, but they're also normal
Hyperborean men in that regard. Aside from what your ancestors did to our
people-"
"Which no one alive in the Southlands today even knows about save for Darian,
Swift-wing and I. The Larinians and Arcadians think they are the direct
descendants of the Hyperboreans, and have no idea about their true origins,"
Arella interjected.
I nodded. "Well, we Hyperboreans were a proud people, and when I and my
friends were alive sixteen centuries ago or so, there really weren't any other
human races we knew of. I'm sure they were out there, of course, but we had
never met any of them. So, as a whole, we never had time to get used to people
Page 14
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
with different skins. I traveled extensively in the lands of the elves and the
dwarves, so I got used to seeing people who looked different than I did, and
learned to accept them as being equal to me - but I did all that travelling
because I was searching for a way to bring Dyarzi back to me. These men didn't
do that."
Arella nodded. "Well, I understand it, but I don't know that I can forgive
them for it. It's very annoying, to say the least," she huffed.
"Well... Well, give them time, Arella. They'll come around. They all know it
was King Darian's contribution of the condemned men that made it possible for
our race to be reborn. Once they've adjusted to what's happened, they'll see
your people in a better light, I think," I said, then smiled. "Besides, not
all of them are truly bigoted against you, I think."
Arella shrugged noncommittaly, then Swift-wing spoke up. "I'm curious, Raven -
how have the monthly meetings been going with your circle?"
"Not well, really. My friends seem... I don't know. Distant. Many of them show
up only irregularly for our meetings, and many times all we do is argue
various points of order or wrangle over the merits of one or another plans
they come up with that run contrary to mine. I don't know if it's because they
can't accept me as the de facto High Master, or if it's that they're just
uncomfortable with seeing me in the body of a woman," I replied, then sighed.
"Perhaps both. Only Gorol and Faral show up regularly, and often it's only
those two. When it is, we often simply sit and sip byallar, and talk over old
times."
Arella nodded, then smiled and changed the subject. "So, today is your big
day?" she asked, gesturing at the rows of benches I'd set out. The giants had
provided the wood to make them years ago, and I had worked very hard to have
enough benches to hold all eighty-five men and eighty-nine women - the sole
survivors of my people.
I nodded, smiling. "Yes. Today we'll bring together the Mountain Healers and
the battle-mages of the Dyclonic Circle all at once. With luck, my plan will
work and they'll pair off, and our race will be reborn," I said, then reached
out to take Arella's hand. "I... I'd be very pleased if you'd stay here with
me today, and share this moment with me, Arella."
"I'd be happy to, Raven," Arella replied, squeezing my hand and smiling. "When
will they be by?"
"Well, the plan was we'd all meet here at noon," I said, glancing at the sky
for a moment through the leafy canopy of the tree above us and guessing the
time. "That's not long from now."
We waited quietly in the noonday shade, sipping our byallar and chatting of
the events in King Darian's court, where Arella still served as Court
Wizardess. Finally, the air before us shimmered, and a white-robed Hyperborean
woman appeared. She was tall and quite beautiful, her jet eyes flashing from a
regal, olive-skinned face. In her right hand, she carried her quarterstaff -
it was more than a simple weapon, however, as I knew it to be her Wizard's
Staff. It was, of course, Pelia Cydalion, the White Witch of Iolo Mountain.
"Greetings, Master Eddas Ayar. Greetings, Arella-tor," she said, bowing.
We stood and bowed in return. "Greetings, High Mistress Pelia Cydalion. How
are you today?" I replied.
"I am fine, thank you."
Arella took a moment to cast a spell of translation, as Pelia was speaking in
my native language, then smiled. "Would you like a seat, High Mistress Pelia?
We have byallar already brewed," Arella said sweetly.
"No, thank you. I'm merely here to deliver a message." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]