Cerilia was also home to a growing population of halflings, though less was known about their history and culture than that of any other race inhabiting the land. Unlike the clannish dwarves, who rarely strayed from their domains, halflings were wanderers by inclination, tending to adapt to customs and conditions prevailing in the territories where they lived. The only permanent halfling settlement in Cerilia, the Burrows, was in the southern region of the Coulladaraight, the sprawling, trackless forest that was home to the reclusive elven kingdom of Coullabhie. The tiny halflings were tolerated by their elven neighbors, but any humans rash enough to venture into those dark woods often did not emerge again.
When the young knights had gathered to begin their game, Michael had decided to cast some of the smaller children as halflings, and an argument had erupted when thirteen-year-old Lord Corwin had insisted that there were no halflings in Ceriha at the time the battle had occurred.
Michael had insisted that there were, and his perennial supporters, who had learned the art of sycophancy at a very early age, immediately backed him up, whether they privately agreed with him or not. Corwin wouldn’t budge, however, maintaining that it was a fact, and is so Michael, convinced that he was right, turned to Aedan to settle the dispute. When Aedan had confirmed that Lord Corwin was, indeed, correct, Michael had snorted with disgust, then shrugged it off and cast the smaller children in the role of dwarves, instead.
It occurred to Aedan that there had been few dwarves at the Battle of Mount Deismaar, but since none of others seemed to know that, he prudently decided to leave well enough alone. Michael had given him a dirty look when he took Corwin’s side, and Aedan knew that look too well. Prince Michael did not like to be contradicted, regardless of the facts, but Aedan wasn’t going to be for him.
The truth was that halflings were unknown in Cerilia until about five hundred years ago, long after the Battle of Mount Deismaar. Legend had it that the halflings had fled from their ancestral homeland in the mystic Shadow World to escape some nameless horror that had threatened their existence. Though halflings rarely spoke of it themselves, the bards embellished on this opportunity to whatever fanciful extent their imaginations would allow. They spoke of a “Cold Rider” who appeared one day in the world of faerie, the spirit world, and slowly, it became the Shadow Worldold, gray and foreboding. And the halflings, creatures half of this world and half of the world of faerie, fled the Cold Rider and the darkness he brought with him. Perhaps it was all merely the fanciful imaginings of bards, or perhaps it was the truth.
The only ones who really knew for certain were the halflings.
It was said they were the only creatures who could pass between the worlds at will, though exactly how they did this no one knew. It was believed they could “shadow walk,” creating temporary portals that would let them slip into the dark domain and reemerge into the world of daylight at another place and time. Yet at certain times throughout the year, the veil between the worlds seemed to part. At such times, unwary humans could stumble through into the Shadow World, and creatures from the dark domain could emerge into the world of daylight.
At the tender age of six, when he first heard about the Shadow World from the older boys at court, Aedan had been plagued by nightmares prompted by the grisly stories he was told around their evening campfires. His young imagination had conjured up all sorts of hideous terrors that had lurked beneath his bed and in his closet, where he was convinced that portals to the Shadow World appeared each night. He would cower underneath his covers as the candle on his nightstand guttered, casting ghoulish shadows on the walls, and when he fell asleep eventually, despite all his efforts to remain awake, he would dream of fearsome monsters wriggling out from underneath his bed to drag him down into the Shadow World and feast upon his flesh.
A few years later, when he was old enough to realize that his closet, even after dark, held nothing more ominous than clothes and that the only things beneath his bed were dust balls, Aedan had regaled young Prince Michael with lurid tales of the horrors that awaited in the Shadow World, perversely hoping to repay the boy for the indignities that Michael made him suffer in his waking hours. But he soon discovered, much to his disgust, that Michael’s insufferable arrogance, even at the age of five, persisted in
his dreams, where instead of being terrorized by monsters, he merely vanquished them with cool dispatch.
At fifteen, Aedan had felt mortified to act out the gheallie Sidhe with a mere child of nine. Back then, that had been Michael’s favorite game.
Based on the second part of “The Legacy of Kings,” the gheallie Sidhe, or “Hunt of the Elves,” told the story of how the Elven Court resisted the incursion of the human tribes into their lands and how elven knights roamed the countryside, slaying any humans they encountered. This resulted in a war that lasted many years, but the elves were steadily pushed back from their territories because the humans had a weapon they were powerless against, namely, priestly magic.
Elves had mages of their own, but their spells were based upon the natural forces inherent in wood and water, field and air. They had never worshiped deities and could not comprehend this strange new source of power. In the end, the elves retreated to the forests, and the power of the Elven Court was shattered. All that
