Velmora: Chapter 11 – The Legacy Blended with Shadow
Elera's eyes still shone like emeralds, but beneath that gleam, a different depth now lay hidden. After that fateful step into the unknown, the ancient war she had witnessed in the shattering testimony of the past had shaken her childish spirit to its core, replacing it with a new conviction, a new fire. She was no longer merely dancing; she was fighting. Within her, a silent vow was forming: Elves would never again be so weak.
Elera had changed. But she was not alone.
Aeolin's silence had deepened even further. His eyes no longer lingered only on the pages of books but sought out the hidden spaces between the lines. He was filled with questions—but there were no answers. Why had they gone there? Why had the founder of the Elf Dance seen them, understood them, and sent them back? That ancient elf had seemed to recognize them with a single glance; as if she had foreseen a task that would take place not in the past, but in the future. Aeolin's mind awoke and slept with these thoughts, with these unanswered questions. Each question opened a new wound in his soul, but at the same time, planted a new seed of curiosity.
A week had passed. Every day since that mysterious journey, Aeolin had seen Elera quietly strengthening her dances, imbuing each movement with new determination. Elera was no longer just a dancer pursuing pure aesthetics, but an elf fighting for her soul. Aeolin, meanwhile, returned to the dusty corridors of the library every day, as if drawn by a magnet. But now, even more than books, he was searching for someone else: Eldrian—the Half-Step Emperor, the living memory of Sylendôr Palace, the last guardian of ancient wisdom.
Yet, Eldrian had vanished. It was as if he had melted into the shadows, his absence making the library's silence even more profound.
Every morning, Aeolin would go, in a hopeless ritual, to the western gallery of the great hall, sit beneath the massive windows inscribed with ancient runes, and with a thick volume in hand, listen for Eldrian's footsteps. He would close his eyes, searching for the echo of an imaginary step, that familiar deep voice. But no familiar shadow stretched among the mana-infused light beams, nor was that reassuring voice heard amidst the rustle of old parchments. The sky would darken, stars would appear one by one, each star seemingly whispering Eldrian's absence.
And that day was no different from the others. The air had long grown dark, and the sounds of the forest outside began to seep into the library. As the stars appeared one by one in the mana-laden sky, moonlight filtering through the windows illuminated the bookshelves with a faint glow. Aeolin turned his pages once more, then gently closed the book. He leaned back against the cool wood of the chair and gazed out the window. There was a sorrow in his eyes that transcended childhood innocence.
A soft sigh, like a whisper carried by the wind, escaped his lips:
"He didn't come today either…"
Just as he was about to stand up, about to leave another unanswered day behind, a burst of light suddenly appeared among the bookshelves. Mana, like an ancient dance, swirled in a spiral in the center of the hall, condensed, and took on a familiar form. With his robe flowing in a harmony of grey and silver, his long hair cascading over his shoulders, and the weary wisdom of ages in his eyes, Eldrian was there. Time itself seemed to pause for a moment at his presence, then began to flow again.
Aeolin's heart began to beat rapidly in his chest, like a drum. He ran with small steps, almost stumbling. All his worry, all his anticipation, had evaporated in the joy of this moment.
"Grandfather Eldrian!" he cried out joyfully, his voice rising, breaking the library's tranquility. "I was looking for you, for such a long time! Where have you been?"
Eldrian smiled, but his smile did not fully settle on his face. In his mind were other times, other echoes, the shadows of thousands of years of past. Despite the young prince's haste, his gaze drifted into the distance.
"Why are you looking for me, little prince?" he asked, his voice infused with wisdom, deep and resonant. He acted as if he didn't know why, yet he had seen everything, understood everything.
Aeolin, despite the unexpected question, began to speak without hesitation. Words poured from his mouth like a flood. He described the mysterious door in the library, the burning battlefield they had passed through, the desperation of the elves, the ruthlessness of the demons. Then, with awe, he recounted how the unique elf woman, the founder of the Elf Dance, had understood them with a single glance, how she had sealed their destinies with her eyes.
As he spoke, his voice lowered, turning into a whisper. He added with a bit more care, a hint of concern:
"I searched all the libraries… the mana libraries, the deepest archives of Sylendôr. I looked for information about the founder of the Elf Dance. I couldn't even find her name. She's not in any books, not on the internet, not in the mana archives. There's no record on any device. It's as if… she vanished. As if she never existed."
Eldrian's face momentarily clouded over. His eyes delved deeply into Aeolin's innocent yet profound gaze for a long moment. It was as if he was shaking off the dust of his own past, of thousands of years of memories. Then, shaking his head slightly, as if carrying the weariness of time on his shoulders, he sat on the empty chair beside him.
"For now, you are young, child," Eldrian said in a soft, yet firm tone. His voice was like the flow of an ancient river, peaceful yet deep. "But since you chose to ask, since your soul seeks answers, I must tell you a few things. That woman… the founder of the Elf Dance… was once my teacher. She initiated a mere mortal like me into the secrets of mana."
Aeolin's eyes widened, like a small child witnessing a miracle.
"She was your teacher?" he whispered, incredulously. He knew Eldrian had such an ancient past, but that the founder of the Elf Dance, one of the greatest elves to ever live, could be his teacher, was unimaginable.
Eldrian bowed his head. "Her name was erased from history. Not so that no one would remember her, not so that no one would utter her name. On the contrary, she chose to blend into the shadows. I was the last to see her… but even before that, she had lived for thousands of years without leaving a trace, like a dream. She had surrendered herself to the flow of time and mana."
He fell silent. The mana current, swirling like wind in the high dome of the library, trembled slightly, as if listening to Eldrian's words. Outside, the leaves of the oak trees rustled.
"8000 years ago," Eldrian continued, his voice like the echo of an ancient epic, "Velmora had not yet been divided into seven continents. Mana had just begun to flow into our world, like an uncontrolled and wild river. At that time, dance was not just an aesthetic, an entertainment. The Elf Dance was a prayer written to mana, a whisper to mana, a defiance to mana… Every movement transformed into a language that communicated with mana. That woman was not only a warrior, but also a poet, a philosopher, and the spirit of mana. She didn't just use mana; she understood it."
He paused. A painful memory crossed the depths of his eyes.
"But… one day she vanished. There was no trace of battle, no grave. No scream was heard, no lament was sung. Some said she died, others that she passed into another dimension, a dream realm. But the death of someone like her would not be silent, could not be. If a being of that level, one so intertwined with her soul and mana, disappeared… mana itself would cry out. The world would shake. Her absence was not an emptiness, an extinction, but a mystery."
Aeolin swallowed. His mind filled with more questions, more riddles. But the first he asked, stemming from his entire childhood, from the deepest parts of his soul, was the purest:
"So… why did she send us? Why did she send us so far, to such a dangerous past? Why did she see us?"
Eldrian's face held the weariness of time, the weight of knowledge. At that moment, he looked not at a small child sitting opposite him, but at a profound being, whose destiny was unknown but intertwined with fate. In his eyes, the shadows of the past mingled with the hopes of the future.
"Perhaps she saw something," he said, his voice resembling that of an ancient oracle. "Perhaps a timeline opened in that glance. A possibility that she foresaw your future role, your place in Velmora's destiny. Or perhaps she simply… wanted to protect you. She saw in you the echo of those ancient ages, a potential. A power not yet awakened."
Silence fell over the library. Only the faint rustle of the mana lamps and the distant hoot of an owl could be heard.
The mana lamps on the library ceiling flickered with a faint but peaceful light. The light danced over the dusty shelves, illuminating ancient knowledge. Aeolin bowed his head. His thoughts were heavy, his mind interwoven with complex webs, but a faint fire had also begun to burn within him. This was not just a fire of curiosity, but also a fire of quest, of discovery.
Eldrian slowly stood up. His shadow stretched long and majestic in the light of the mana lamps.
"We will have this conversation again in the future, little prince," he said. "When the time comes, you will find the answers to all your questions. Until then, hold onto your questions. Let them be your guide. You cannot find every answer now. But every unanswered question makes you grow, leads you to new paths."
He slowly began to fade into the light, just like a dream. His presence was like a mist cloud dissolving in the air.
"And remember," he whispered, before his body completely vanished, his voice echoing throughout the hall, "the Elf Dance is not just a legacy of the past… it is the key to the future. The future of Velmora…"
Aeolin watched him for a long time. Where Eldrian had disappeared, the last tremor of mana lingered in the air. Aeolin felt this tremor in his heart. He now knew that his quest had just begun. And in this quest, not only the wisdom of the past but also the mysteries of the future awaited him. Together with Elera, they would rewrite Velmora's destiny.