So many of Evermeet's elves, the Towers of the Sun and Moon represented the epitome of elven culture.
Fashioned of white stone that had been raised by magic from the heart of the elven land, the Towers were surrounded by wondrous gardens and hidden in the heart of a deep forest. Here were housed some of the most powerful magical artifacts known to elvenkind. Here gathered wizards and High Magi for study and contemplation, for the casting of the Circles, and for the instruction of promising students.
Of all the Tower's students, none showed more promise than Amlaruil Moonflower. Magic seemed to flow through the girl as naturally as rain from a summer cloud. Secretly, the magi believed that she could become the most powerful mage since the legendary Vhoori Durothil. Already she was being groomed to take the place of Jannalor Nierde, Evermeet's Grand Mage.
Yet there were some in the Towers who doubted that the elf maid's destiny was all that certain. Among these was Nakiasha, a Green elf sorceress of considerable ability who had taken upon herself the role of Amlaruil's mentor and confidante.
As was their custom, the two elf women, their day's work completed, walked the paths that curved through the Tower grounds. They walked in silence, to better enjoy the beauty of the evening. Birdsong filled the cooling air, and the chirp of crickets and other forest creatures heralded the coming night.
It was the time of day that they both preferred to all others, when the last, long rays of sunlight bathed everything in a golden haze. But it seemed to Nakiasha that her young friend seemed distracted, and quite removed from their small, self-contained world of magic and scholarship.
'Where are you today, child?' the sorceress asked.
Amlaruil dropped her eyes to the gravel path, and not because she wished to contemplate the exquisite walkway. It was a wondrous thing, to be sure, for the gravel was actually bits of marble in shades that represented all the goodly races of elves: gold, silver, green for the wild elves, and blue for the sea folk. Some whimsical bit of magic kept the colors shifting in an ever-changing mosaic. At the moment, however, Amlaruil wanted merely to escape her teacher's searching gaze.
'I am sorry, Nakiasha,' she murmured. 'Please forgive my inattention.'
'The day's lessons are over. I only wondered if all is well with you,' the sorceress said. As she spoke, she peered up into the girl's face-no easy task, for Amlaruil was exceedingly tall. Nakiasha's shrewd eyes took note of the flush on the girl's face.
'By Hanali! You aren't in love, are you?'
Amlaruil slanted a look at her teacher from beneath lowered lashes. 'Would that be so bad?'
'Perhaps not.' Nakiasha shrugged. 'Though to be sure, some of the magi here might worry that your spring fancies might interfere with your studies. It's a wonder,' she added with asperity, 'that with such thinking, the Gold elf people have not died out long ere this! Who is the lad? Laeroth? A good choice. Very talented.'
The girl answered only with a shrug. Laeroth was a fellow student and a good friend. Even so, she could not help but picture the young mage standing alongside Zaor Moonflower. Though Laeroth was nearly six feet tall-nearly as tall as Amlaruil herself-he seemed dwarfed in comparison with the warrior. Amlaruil suspected that in her eyes, it would always be so.
Even so, maidenly yearnings had little to do with Amlaruil's distraction. She had been strangely restless all day. Her spirit felt for all the world like a hawk buffeted by too-strong winds.
With a sigh, she came to a stop at the foot of the Totem, a monument honoring the spirit magic peculiar to the Green elves. Amlaruil's eyes swept up the massive statue, lingering on each of the stark, powerfully portrayed totem animals it depicted. The totem protected the Tower grounds in ways that few of the elves fully understood. Until today, Amlaruil had often found comfort and reassurance in its massive shade. Now, for reasons that she could not define, she found herself wondering if the totem-or anything else-would be enough.
'Primitive art, by Gold elf standards,' Nakiasha observed with a touch of sarcasm, 'but no one can deny its power! The Totem has protected the Towers from rival spells for many centuries.'
Amlaruil nodded, though she knew that in these days of diminished magic, spellbattle between towers occurred only in minstrels' tales. Though such challenges might have been common before the Sundering, no magical battle had ever taken place on Evermeet.
Nakiasha patted her arm. 'It is nearly time for even-feast. Go, and meet your young gallant.'
'You are not coming?' Amlaruil eyed the older elf. Nakiasha seldom took time to eat or even to seek revery, and her bones were nearly as bare as winter wood. The elf maid often wondered what source fueled the sorceress's unending energy. Once, she had asked. Nakiasha had merely smiled and replied that she would learn the secret herself in due time.
Predictably enough, the sorceress shook her head. 'I have work awaiting me. You know of the Accumulator, of course, and you know that it absorbs the magical energies of Evermeet itself. For some reason, the artifact's power is rapidly increasing-it nearly hums with magical energy! We do not yet know why, and this we must know.'
'I have felt something beyond the ordinary,' Amlaruil admitted.
'Have you, now?' the sorceress said, eying the girl thoughtfully. 'If anything more comes to you, be sure to seek me out at once. But go now, and refresh yourself. It might be that we will have need of your youth and strength.'
Nakiasha ended her words with a smile, but to Amlaruil's ears they still sounded more like a warning than a compliment.
The elf maid turned down the path that led to the Tower of the Moon. While the Tower of the Sun was devoted to the storing and casting of magic, the Moon tower tended humbler, more personal needs. Here were kept the living quarters, small rooms dedicated to contemplation or study, and finally the kitchen and dining hall. All meals were taken at the narrow, spiraling table that filled the lower hall.
Laeroth was waiting for her at the door. As she often did, Amlaruil noted that there was something otherworldly about the young mage. It was not merely his appearance, though that was odd enough. Laeroth looked disturbingly akin to the ancient statues that depicted the Faerie People. Tall and exceedingly thin, he was all sharp angles and eerily precise grace. His eyes were black, and they slanted upward at the corners beneath similarly winged, black brows. Only his mop of wheat-colored hair, which was in its usual state of disarray, seemed to place him rightfully in the mortal world.
The young mage sprang at Amlaruil, seizing her by both shoulders. 'Where have you been? I have awaited you this hour and more!'
The intensity in his burning black eyes unnerved the girl, especially considering her recent conversation with Nakiasha.
'As ambushes go, that was rather poorly done,' she said with a smile, trying to lighten the tone between them. 'It is not common practice to show yourself until the moment of attack.'
Laeroth released her and ran a long-fingered hand through his unruly hair. 'The moon has risen. It will soon be dark enough to see.'
'See?'
The young mage took her arm and led her away from the Tower. 'The lights here are too bright-they dampen the stars,' he explained. 'I think we must go into the forest.'
Amlaruil followed without comment, caught up in his urgency. The two elves slipped deep into the trees, into the hidden dale where Amlaruil had met the unicorn-and glimpsed her disturbing, improbable destiny.
Laeroth stopped and pointed up into the night sky. 'It should be there between the fourth and fifth of Selune's Tears, and slightly to the north.'
The elf maid studied the sky, seeing nothing beyond the lights that were familiar friends. But as her eyes sought deeper, she did indeed notice something new. Faint and distant, more like the ghost of a star than a true light, it crouched amid the glowing tears like a crimson shadow.
'By the gods!' she breathed. 'The King-Killer star!'
Laeroth nodded, his narrow face set in grim lines. 'You see it, then. I thought so, but I had to be sure. Usually its path arcs over Faerun and as far east as Kara-Tur. Never has it been seen on Evermeet.'
'What does this mean?'
'I wish I knew,' Laeroth said. 'This mystery will tax even the magi.'
