Striding quietly through the eerily glowing Crystal Gardens of the Glass Palace, Elwyn struggled with an internal disquiet which had grown in him since Councilman Havel’s summons. At the time, he had been exploring a series of ancient pathways deep within the ominous borders of Faerie. Discovering those paths had come at great personal cost to the illimitable hunter, a cost which had not yet been out-weighed by any discoveries within those twisted places. Swallowing the bitterness of disappointment was a skill Elwyn continued to hone over a lifetime, yet one which had never grown easier to exercise.
He wondered briefly if he was more disappointed by the emptiness of those distant paths, or by his return to Gwladyr-Hav. Feeling the chill surface of the garden paths beneath his bare feet, he determined that it was most definitely the latter. There was a coldness, an artificial and brittle grandeur which pervaded the Fae’s refuge, continually reminding its inhabitants of the fact that no matter how mightily, how gracefully, how relentlessly they worked, it would never be more than an imitation of their true home.
“This place is beautiful, isn’t it? I would never believe something so majestic could exist, if I weren’t here now. Isn’t it wonderful, Elwyn?” Heddwyn’s curious and warm quixotic and warm voice prompted Elwyn to ground his thoughts. The young Fenrir very nearly personified the most charming virtues of curiosity and exuberance. For nearly two decades, she had been Elwyn’s only companion and despite many hardships and trials, it seemed her brightness and zest for light could not be diminished. It was this quality coupled with her fierce loyalty which Elwyn cherished the most.
He turned to stare out at the vivid array of crystalline flora within the gardens. “Wonderful indeed,” was his only reply. Without another word, he stepped off the path, taking the most direct route to the council chambers. Heddwyn padded along silently behind him, a hulking mass of fur and muscle seemingly oblivious to the shocked stares of disapproval drawn by her presence within the palace.
Some moments later, Elwyn entered the council chamber just in time to overhear Councilman Ye’Tard’s scathing against Councilman Havel. Long detached from the politicking of the Councl, Elwyn was nevertheless familiar with Ye’Tard and his tissue-thin veil of refinement. Ye’Tard was a fop and a sadist, yet one conniving and opportunistic enough to maneuver and cajole his way into a position of immense bureaucratic power. He was rivaled, and stymied in power, by Havel and a small handful of others. A fact which Elwyn assumed must chafe at the councilor’s vanity.
Heddwyn’s head hung low between hear tensed shoulders as she nervously padded along at Elwyn’s heels.
The packed council chamber, so populated by the elite of the Fae society, enhanced the disapproval for the cinnamon-furred Fenrir’s presence into glares of outright disgust. Ten steps into the chamber and her nervous silence broke. “Elwyn, are you sure I belong in here?”
“You belong with me, Heddwyn. Now hush.” He replied with stoically, consciously heedless of the indecency of both his entrance and the presence of his companion. There were indeed rules of etiquette barring the presence of Denizens from the sanctity of the Glass Palace, but he simply did not care to observe a rule obviously founded in bigotry.
As Ye’Tard’s sneering voice died away, a broad space appeared around Elwyn as the assembled Fae distanced themselves from great beast at his heels. He nodded respectfully to those council members with whom he shared connection before breaking the silence following Ye’Tard’s speech. “If I may present an alternative perspective to those of you who may share Ye’Tard’s sentiments, I believe the insidious intentions of Gwydion Cygfa may be given proper attention.” Though he addressed the council as a whole, he cast his slate gray eyes upon the faces of Badb Rioghan and Ye’Tard Naar, silently challenging either of them to speak against his presence. Coolly dismissing their presence, he turned his gaze to Councilman Havel. “As I am sure our honored Councilman Havel would momentarily have informed you, I have volunteered my service to the council in this time of crisis.”
Elwyn’s reputation as a founder of the Wild Hunt and an operative for the council was well known, even after many centuries of self-imposed exile. It was a poorly kept secret that he was periodically summoned by the council to undertake tasks which were too politically poisonous for their various martial elite.
“Many of you may know of my past activities, particularly the pursuit of sorcerers and those affiliated with them. I am quite sure there are none currently within this realm with greater qualification than I in undertaking this task. With that being said, as a recognized authority in such things, I can testify to the value offered by a human resource with obvious significance to the plots of Nether-Hollow. A value even the most pessimistic of those of us would be foolish to overlook. And, as I have never served in any official martial capacity for the Fae, there is clearly no issue of elite Fae warriors being drawn from their duties.”
He paused then, allowing each person in the chamber to absorb the meaning of his words. Havel had personally requested that Elwyn take up this task, but he had also requested that Elwyn present his presence as one motivated by personal interest, thereby preserving Havel’s political integrity. Despite his disdain for political maneuvering, Elwyn was well accustomed to the value offered by his solitary reputation. His attachment to any task allowed the council as a whole to wash its hands of the issue, making acceptance of his services all the more appealing to those gathered here today.
He wondered briefly if he was more disappointed by the emptiness of those distant paths, or by his return to Gwladyr-Hav. Feeling the chill surface of the garden paths beneath his bare feet, he determined that it was most definitely the latter. There was a coldness, an artificial and brittle grandeur which pervaded the Fae’s refuge, continually reminding its inhabitants of the fact that no matter how mightily, how gracefully, how relentlessly they worked, it would never be more than an imitation of their true home.
“This place is beautiful, isn’t it? I would never believe something so majestic could exist, if I weren’t here now. Isn’t it wonderful, Elwyn?” Heddwyn’s curious and warm quixotic and warm voice prompted Elwyn to ground his thoughts. The young Fenrir very nearly personified the most charming virtues of curiosity and exuberance. For nearly two decades, she had been Elwyn’s only companion and despite many hardships and trials, it seemed her brightness and zest for light could not be diminished. It was this quality coupled with her fierce loyalty which Elwyn cherished the most.
He turned to stare out at the vivid array of crystalline flora within the gardens. “Wonderful indeed,” was his only reply. Without another word, he stepped off the path, taking the most direct route to the council chambers. Heddwyn padded along silently behind him, a hulking mass of fur and muscle seemingly oblivious to the shocked stares of disapproval drawn by her presence within the palace.
---------------------
Some moments later, Elwyn entered the council chamber just in time to overhear Councilman Ye’Tard’s scathing against Councilman Havel. Long detached from the politicking of the Councl, Elwyn was nevertheless familiar with Ye’Tard and his tissue-thin veil of refinement. Ye’Tard was a fop and a sadist, yet one conniving and opportunistic enough to maneuver and cajole his way into a position of immense bureaucratic power. He was rivaled, and stymied in power, by Havel and a small handful of others. A fact which Elwyn assumed must chafe at the councilor’s vanity.
Heddwyn’s head hung low between hear tensed shoulders as she nervously padded along at Elwyn’s heels.
The packed council chamber, so populated by the elite of the Fae society, enhanced the disapproval for the cinnamon-furred Fenrir’s presence into glares of outright disgust. Ten steps into the chamber and her nervous silence broke. “Elwyn, are you sure I belong in here?”
“You belong with me, Heddwyn. Now hush.” He replied with stoically, consciously heedless of the indecency of both his entrance and the presence of his companion. There were indeed rules of etiquette barring the presence of Denizens from the sanctity of the Glass Palace, but he simply did not care to observe a rule obviously founded in bigotry.
As Ye’Tard’s sneering voice died away, a broad space appeared around Elwyn as the assembled Fae distanced themselves from great beast at his heels. He nodded respectfully to those council members with whom he shared connection before breaking the silence following Ye’Tard’s speech. “If I may present an alternative perspective to those of you who may share Ye’Tard’s sentiments, I believe the insidious intentions of Gwydion Cygfa may be given proper attention.” Though he addressed the council as a whole, he cast his slate gray eyes upon the faces of Badb Rioghan and Ye’Tard Naar, silently challenging either of them to speak against his presence. Coolly dismissing their presence, he turned his gaze to Councilman Havel. “As I am sure our honored Councilman Havel would momentarily have informed you, I have volunteered my service to the council in this time of crisis.”
Elwyn’s reputation as a founder of the Wild Hunt and an operative for the council was well known, even after many centuries of self-imposed exile. It was a poorly kept secret that he was periodically summoned by the council to undertake tasks which were too politically poisonous for their various martial elite.
“Many of you may know of my past activities, particularly the pursuit of sorcerers and those affiliated with them. I am quite sure there are none currently within this realm with greater qualification than I in undertaking this task. With that being said, as a recognized authority in such things, I can testify to the value offered by a human resource with obvious significance to the plots of Nether-Hollow. A value even the most pessimistic of those of us would be foolish to overlook. And, as I have never served in any official martial capacity for the Fae, there is clearly no issue of elite Fae warriors being drawn from their duties.”
He paused then, allowing each person in the chamber to absorb the meaning of his words. Havel had personally requested that Elwyn take up this task, but he had also requested that Elwyn present his presence as one motivated by personal interest, thereby preserving Havel’s political integrity. Despite his disdain for political maneuvering, Elwyn was well accustomed to the value offered by his solitary reputation. His attachment to any task allowed the council as a whole to wash its hands of the issue, making acceptance of his services all the more appealing to those gathered here today.
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