The rhythmic clicking of hardened leather shoes echoed down one of the many long marble hallways of Felwithe’s fifth largest private estate. The tall, blonde haired elven woman quickened her pace as she finished tying off the lace that cinched her bodice together, apparently having just finished dressing in quite a hurry. Upon reaching the door she was looking for she stopped to take a deep breath, breaking from her haste to steal one final moment to herself in the aged house of her family.

Her finger tips reached to the door, running over the smooth stained wood; falling into the grooves of a carved symbol engraved into the wood paneling. She closed her eyes, gliding her fingers around the carved circle, seeing it with her touch. Inside the circle was carved two hands, together at the wrist and open in giving; the hands of Tunare. Falling from the hands, as if from a high cliff was depicted the waterfall of the Stream of Silence, landing in the Lake of the Whispering. This was the crest of the Winterblue family, an ancient line of Koada’Dal that could be traced back to before the burning of the Elddar.

Continuing their travels, the gentle fingers finally made their way to the door handle, slowly pulling it open just a crack as she peeked inside. Shelves upon shelves of books stood in neat, tightly packed rows, rising high and serving to mask the sheer size of the family’s grand library. Morning’s light had just begun to penetrate through the windows that lined the far wall. The air was still and silent, the only sound that met the woman’s sensitive ears was the faint buzzing of a summoned wisp that danced in its glass jar upon a desk centrally located with book stacks to each side. It illuminated the desk and cast its flickering light about the room in erratic patterns. Seated at the desk was another elven woman, dressed in fine silken blue robes. Her cheek rested upon the brittle pages of an open book and her long flowing red hair draped across the desktop. To the side of her head, an inked quill lay fallen from her open hand.

In the corner of the room a stoic and silent water elemental stood. Its massive form, even taller than the elf herself, shattered the light as it bounced and glistened over its liquefied body. It turned its gaze for a moment to the newcomer as she stepped through the door closing it behind her. Stepping gingerly across the room she moved behind the sleeping woman. Looking over her shoulder at the book she saw a line of writing that slowly began to trail off, ending in a haphazard dash of ink that ran off the page. Smiling to herself she lovingly ran her fingers through the woman’s hair. She was so reluctant to wake her, but she knew she must. Leaning down she whispered softly into her ear. “Tyrianna… Tyri, wake up…”

The sleeping woman softly stirred, opening her eyes with a faint moan, rubbing them as she began to sit up in her chair. “mmmm… What time is it?” She mumbled as she turned to look over her shoulder still half asleep. The light of the new day tumbled into the room, glowing in an aura around the silhouette of the woman standing behind her. Her eyes widened as her body jerked the rest of the way awake, snapping fully upright in her chair as she let out a slight gasp. “It’s morning! I’m not finished!” Turning back around Tyrianna fumbled as she hastily snatched her quill back into her hand. She shrieked a curse as she looked down to see the ruined page, tearing it from the book and tossing it aside, feverishly starting to scribe that page anew.

The woman behind her just shook her head patiently and reached out a hand to cover the hurriedly writing quill. “You can take your supplies and a few books with you and finish on the boat. It’s time sister… you know that as well as I do.” The voice was feathery, calm and soothing. It always had been. Tyrianna forced a slow relaxing breath and softly placed the quill down on the table. “You’re right. It’s time.” Sliding her chair out from under her she stood, turning to embrace her sister. The two held each other tightly for a long moment then turned for the door. Tyrianna stopped on her way past her elemental and waved her hand through the air. “Come on Pookie, time to go.” The elemental dispersed into a cloud of mist, then to strands of glowing cyan elemental energy which swirled through the air briefly before settling into the multi-hued crystal around Tyrianna’s neck. Her sister grinned in spite of the somber situation. It had always amused her that the whimsical name Tyrianna gave her elemental when she was little more than a child had stuck with it even now that it was the powerful summoning of an accomplished Arch Mage. As the two left the room, Tyrianna cast one final look over her shoulder at the vast library of Norrathian history she had devoted well over two hundred years of her life to compile.

“Oh please, be careful with that stack! It’s irreplaceable!” The burly Half Elven dockhand looked up into the face of his flustered High Elven employer with a friendly grin. “With all due respect ma’am, you’ve said that about every stack, some more than once. We’ve been in this business a long time. Ye can trust all your books will make it through the trip none the worse for the wear.” Tyrianna clasped her hands behind her back, her cheeks blushing with slight embarrassment. “Of course, I’m sorry. I’m just a bit on edge today.” The man chuckled in response. “Aye indeed, mayhap you should get aboard and visit the galley. Get ye’self a glass of wine to calm the nerves. Your father has already settled the bill. Ye just go relax and leave the worrying to us.” With that the man disappeared down the ramp into the ship’s hold.

Tyrianna stepped slowly down the dock, one foot after the other, dragging her feet almost as one might walk to one’s own execution. Finally she stood at the bottom of the boarding ramp. The warm ocean breeze played through her hair and fluttered her robe as she stared up the ramp knowing perfectly well this could be the last time she would stand on the shores of her homeland. The darkness was coming, and it was coming soon. She winced as a twinge of guilt ran up her spine. She questioned what she was doing, what her family was doing. Were they abandoning their people just when they were going to be needed most? Shaking her head quickly she tried to clear away the thoughts. In her heart she knew her father’s decision was the right one, the library of history and lore she and her family had amassed must be preserved. Then of course there were the visions. Her sister would not have received the visions, the warnings, if they weren’t destined to act upon them. Tyrianna had stood against vampires, and dragons. She had traveled in the planes of the most evil of gods, but to her none of that compared to taking that final step onto the ship that would carry her away from her beloved Faydwer.

Finding a spot near the railing with her back to Faydwer, in the shade of the ship’s great sail, Tyrianna put her pack down beside her on the deck and sat down. She took out a bottle of ink, a quill, and a half finished book. Uncorking the bottle, she set about drowning her sorrow in the only way she ever knew how. From that moment, not once did she turn to look over her shoulder.

Just after sunset, in a large room on the underground floor of an unassuming little house on the outskirts of South Qeynos, an elven girl had fallen asleep reading. The book had fallen from her hands and come to rest on the small table in front of her as her body sunk back into the soft chair. The girl was young, old enough to be considered an adult but just barely. She was dressed simply. A green cloth bodice hugged her upper body, laced together through copper eyelets with leather string. Her hips and thighs were covered by a faded black skirt that had likely seen better days and the straps of a simple pair of leather sandals wrapped around her feet. It was certainly a far cry from the fine silks that her wealthy ancestors would have worn in their youth. Still, she had been blessed with a delicate beauty that ran in her family, with soft blonde highlighted light red hair that she allowed to drape down her back.

Her breathing was shallow but quickened, and her arm twitched slightly as a soft knock came at the door. Getting no response, the knock came again. Finally the door creaked open, allowing light from the hallway outside to wash into the darkened makeshift library. Shelves and stacks of books were everywhere, crammed with as much order as possible into a room far too small to contain them all. An aging elven woman entered the room through the doorway, lighting a candle on the desk before closing the door behind her. She walked over to the sleeping girl, smiling lovingly at her as she sank down into a nearby chair.

As the old woman approached, the sleeping girl awoke with a start. She shrieked with an ear piercing sound as her leg knocked over the little table sending the book she had been reading skidding across the floor to the foot of the woman seated near her. Chuckling softly in response, the woman reached down to pick up the book. “Bad dream dear?”

The girl placed her hand over her heaving chest calming herself as her heart raced, flopping back into the chair. “Oh! I… I’m sorry auntie Tyri! I mean… I know I was supposed to be cataloging the ‘T’ section but I… umm… I mean… well I got distracted!” The elven woman just smiled warmly and looked down at the book she had just picked up from the floor. “mmhmm… Ah, Mujaki the Devourer. No wonder you were having nightmares” Annwen cast her eyes to the floor sheepishly. “Yes auntie Tyri, I’m sorry. I will get back to work right away.”

As the girl began to stand, Tyrianna reached out a hand and touched her wrist, bidding her to sit back down. “The library has existed for hundreds of years. It can wait another few minutes dear. I have something to talk to you about.” Annwen settled back in her chair, tilting her head and softly biting the inside of her lip pensively. After a long moment the aged woman continued. “You have a passion for history and knowledge like your aunt darling. It’s clear by the hours you spend down here reading and from all the questions you’re always asking your mother and I. Why… I’d be surprised if you haven’t read every book in this room twice by now.” Tyrianna chuckled again, looking into the confused eyes of her niece. Annwen nodded slowly, still quite unsure of where this was all leading. “It is also clear that you want more. Your mother and I can see it in your eyes. You want to go out there, to see for yourself the things you’ve read about… You want to track down the answers to questions even I cannot answer.”

Tyrianna reached her hands back behind her neck and undid the clasp of her necklace. As she did so a flash of prismatic light shone from beneath the neck of her robe. Cradling the crystal at the end of the chain in her hand she lovingly ran her fingers over the material. The crystal was at the same time warm and cold to the touch. It was as solid as the hardest rock while as weightless as pure air. Red, green, brown and cyan lights danced about inside, casting elemental colors about the dimly lit room. Annwen gasped audibly in spite of herself, her mouth hanging open, speechless with shock. That necklace hadn’t left Tyrianna’s neck in hundreds of years and Annwen knew it.

While the girl simply looked on, dumbfounded, Tyrianna continued to run her fingertips over the jewel, speaking softly, talking as much to it and herself as to Annwen. “I do miss having him around. We have been through so much over so many years. It was so nice to have a willing companion, rather than to have to tear elementals from their planes into slavery like most other mages.” She paused with a soft nostalgic sigh. “I haven’t been able to summon him since the Rending, but I still feel him… I know he still wishes to serve me… to serve our family as he was bound to do so many years ago.” With a deep breath the old elf rose from her chair and stepped behind the girl. Annwen’s heart pounded in her chest as she felt the necklace drape over her own neck, the crystal settling just under the top laces of her bodice. It flashed with another burst of prismatic light as the clasp was closed, the elemental lights then returning to their swirling dance within the stone.

“And now my dear, he shall serve you. Of course, it’s going to take a lot of study and training before you are skilled enough to feel his presence with you, but mastery of the elements runs strong in our family. It won’t be long I’m sure of it.” With a whimsical smirk she added, “Who knows, maybe one day you’ll find a way to summon his form back to the face of Norrath. I pray I live to see that day.” Annwen looked up over her shoulder at her aunt with wide, shimmering green eyes. Her hands trembled visibly as she struggled to find her voice. An unintelligible squeak passed her lips and she swallowed hard, finally managing to stammer out something resembling a sentence. “I… I mean… but, but… It’s true I so want to see beyond the city gates but… but there is so much to take care of here! I mean, who will keep the books in order? Who will scribe and compile the new documents? Who will…” Tyrianna leaned down and gently placed a finger over Annwen’s lips, silencing her abruptly. “I will,” she answered in a resolute, commanding tone. “I am old darling. My time for traipsing around Norrath has passed. You aren’t little Annie anymore, you are a young lady now. This is your time.”

Annwen looked up at her aunt, her still trembling fingers tucking several strands of wayward hair behind her ear. “I… I don’t know what to say.” Tyrianna smiled warmly, taking Annwen’s hand in her own with a gentle squeeze and began to recite the Winterblue family motto. Annwen quickly joined her, the two speaking in unison. “Fight only for purpose and never for hate, lest even in victory you shall know defeat.” Annwen’s soft and gentle voice began to quiver upon the last few words. Overcome with a swirl of emotion, tears started to roll down her cheek. She leapt forward from her seat and threw her arms around her aunt’s neck, hugging her tightly. The two embraced for a long moment until finally Tyrianna give her niece a soft kiss on the forehead. She smiled and spun her around towards the door sending her off with a spurring tap on the backside. “Get on upstairs now dear. Your mother has supper waiting. I’ll be up in just a moment.” As Annwen hurriedly left the room, the old elven woman picked up the book from the chair beside her and began to wander through the volumes in search of its proper place.