The young elf, dressed in the colors of crimson and burnished gold, walked slowly down the lightly curved corridor.   A young teenager, if such a crass comparison to human standards were to be made, although to the normal elven eye the scene depicted a youngling of around thirty seasons.  He strode with an abnormal grace as he approached the private meeting rooms of the prince.  A sole member of the Royal Guard’s Gold Knights stood outside of the closed door.  He nodded to the young elf, who returned a brief, if slightly unsure smile, and then opened the door for him to enter.

It was not as if Elyrienne had never been in this room before, in fact, it was a frequent place of family gatherings, of which he was included as foster son to the prince.  After nearly fifteen years of studying and living with the prince and his family at the court of Calethria, the room should have been one of the most comfortable for him, outside of his own.   However, an official summons to the room had proven rare, and frankly most of those were usually when either he or Shinelian had been caught performing some prank or another that failed to meet the standards of court behavior.   The last one on the son of the ambassador from D’er Elundre, Elyrienne felt to be truly deserved since he had been incredibly rude to both of them for months after his arrival, but that had been over a year ago.     While they had been punished with an incredible amount of extra studies and chores, watching Recithen slide headfirst down the front entry into the glistening decorative pool one afternoon in the middle of his exit from court had been more than worth the punishment.  

While he tried not to show it, his entry this evening was not without some slight feeling of trepidation.   Darthoradan was normally informal to a fault outside of court, as if to make-up for the constant need to be aware of every single movement, gesture or word that the bright court looked for to show favor, or disfavor.    Nonetheless, he entered, noted the prince standing near some elderberry vines that he cultivated within this room as a reminder of his family’s roots, standing with his back to the door.  As Elyrienne approached, and with a slight flourish of his robes, bowed slightly, all that decorum mandated while murmuring, “May your ways be green and golden, my prince.”

The golden-haired prince of Calethria, commander of the realm’s armies, turned and smiled briefly at the top of the boy’s head, as if amused about a wayward son, before stating, “Exactly at the appointed time, Elyrienne.  A trait not many of us share, but your punctuality has always been exact, and occasionally noted upon.  Too serious as well much of the time, but perhaps Shinelian will break you of that.  At least she has gotten you to participate in a few pranks over the years, if none recently.”  With that, Elyrienne let out a slight release of breath in relief, one he had not realized he had been holding. “Sit, son of my dearest friend, we have much to discuss tonight.”  As he sat, he heard slight rustling of movement to his rear, and realized that we meant something other than what he had assumed.  

Half turning in his seat, Elyrienne noticed that two additional elves stood quietly in the back corner of the room, hidden by the door, when it had opened and he had walked in.  He probably should have been aware of their presence when he entered, it was something he was working on with Kyrelian, supposedly as part of his weapon’s training, but surprising him no longer, Kyrelian believed in a well-rounded student of weapons, one always alert to his surroundings.  He would not be pleased to be made aware of this gap in his observance; one of the training activities Elyrienne had been assigned was to report each day at the beginning of his instruction situations such as this in which he initially failed to notice the presence of individuals, animals, or even scents and sounds.

“Lerellian,” Elyrienne exclaimed, rising again quickly and striding quickly to embrace his foster brother, an elf nearly the height of the young Elyrienne, with hair as dark as true night, and the pale skin of his mother, who stood poised with the grace of a battle tiger.  “May the moons grace your dreams! I had not expected to see you again so quickly after the harvest celebrations.”

“May the suns always light your path, Elyrienne,” replied Lerellian Kerenth, of the Hyande en’Bitwa, and more importantly, eldest child of Prince Darthoradan.  “We are here to discuss your request of a few months ago.”

“Yes, we are Elyrienne,” continued Darthoradan.  “Please seat yourself, Lerellian, you and Gelendrial as well,” referring to the other elf that had been standing next to Lerellian.  In the wrong light, she might be mistaken to have black hair as well, but Elyrienne noticed up close that her hair reflect a hint of red amongst her locks, and she made Lerellian look as if a tiger cub next to its mother.  Grace and power seemed to roll off of her in waves, and she wore an odd combination of leather and plate mail.  Elyrienne could almost scent the magical aura that seemed to leak from her presence, and now he really did not understand how he had failed to note her presence upon his entry.  

All of the elves moved towards an area of the room that held several low couches and pillows, sliding gracefully into various positions of repose, although Elyrienne tried to conceal his excitement, it was easy to see in comparison to the older and more experienced within the room.  

“Elyrienne,” started the prince, “Lerellian has obviously discussed with me your request to begin training as a megalindir, also of your request to gain approval before sharing it with friends and family.  Normally, any of our people who volunteer for such a vigorous path must complete and pass a full range of tests before training even officially begins, and  anyone who desires to dedicate their lives to such a grueling and punishing service are allowed to do so with few restrictions, other than qualifying throughout the training and testing.  That said, we would not be here this evening to discuss anything if the testing were to occur as normally conducted by the few masters of the various orders.  For one, I have promised your father that I would insure you were trained in many different aspects of service to our people.  For another, I am not sure that we are ready for you to end your fostering here with us, and there are a variety of reasons for that, including that you have become an important piece of our family.  Obviously, we do not oppose such type of service or Lerellian would not be what he is today, and it would be wrong to for us to forbid such service to any member of the kingdom.  However, Lerellian did not begin his training until he was much older than you.  There are reasons for that, especially the need to train him in many things an heir would need to know, but also because dedicating oneself to such a lifetime pursuit should not be made at such a young age.”

The prince paused, easily noting the disappointed look upon his foster son’s features, before continuing, “It was my intent,  at the very least, to postpone your testing for many more years.  However, Blade Master Gelendrial arrived about a month ago, and has been observing you over that period, observing you in all areas of your behavior.   She has suggested an alternative plan that may be more to your liking, or it might not.  I will say that it will be considerably more difficult than one of the normal paths to the enlightenment of the blade song.”

“Elyrienne, I have watched you perform and study throughout the month I have been nearby.   You possess an extraordinary natural grace that enhances your weapons studies, and if you were to complete your training in the song of blades, it would benefit you in that endeavor,” Geledrial said.  “You have a keen insight into your magical studies, although your tendencies to obsessiveness in this area may also be a detriment.  I am also well aware of your family’s service to the kingdom, and as masters of the song as well.  You would have no way of knowing, but Elyria Norishianel was one of the three masters who conducted the final year of my testing,” she commented,  “may her spirit find rest with the Valar.  In all consideration, you have impetuousness about your actions that would have to be tempered.  Since my years allow me, I will also be direct.  You have a disdain for others whom you see as less talented, and to be a megalindir, you must be willing to sacrifice and protect all those of our people, regardless of their perceived worth.   I am not even sure you are aware of it, and it is subtle, not many are able to see it.  There are other opinions I could offer as to other actions and attitudes of which I were a witness, but these are the most important.  I can see that you disagree,” continued Geledrial, “and your anger betrays you. You believe you hide it by becoming completely still and forcing calm to your features and your limbs, but that is just as often a sign of depth of emotion instead of true calm and acceptance.  In fact, I can tell you think I eventually mean to deny you,” she commented as Elyrienne breathed rapidly in denial.  “We may still deny you ultimately, as is my or another master’s right, and more importantly our duty.”

“Still, I believe your talents outweigh the possible risks, and the training is meant to weed many out who are incompatible with the ideals we seek.  There are reasons so few begin the training, and even fewer complete it. After my discussions with Prince Darthoradan, we have reached an agreement, which may be your only option to ever attain the goal you claim to seek.  It is actually more difficult than our regular process, and it will take you longer.  The prince thinks you can eventually serve as one of our kingdom’s best, and he senses something that he believes will result in what we call a true command presence.  I am not sure that I agree as of yet, but I am willing to consider this plan.  It may be that it fails, and while you would not join our ranks, the training you do complete would be of great value as a member of the Royal Guard, or in any number of tasks that would serve the people.”

As Elyrienne began to speak, and readily give his assent, the blade master said, “Do not agree.  You do not even know the requirements, or the tasks to be set for you.  In this, your assent must be measured, and considered mightily.  It should also be weighed heavily, and discussed with those who are most important to you.  That obviously means the prince and his family.  I have observed you have few close friends here at court, and given your age, such a decision should be discussed with more than just your foster family.  That is why a message was sent to your father and mother, and also to your sister.  They should all be arriving in the next few days.”

“As to the basics of your conditional training, Lerellian has agreed to begin the training.  You will spend several hours a day in specified training at Lerellian’s command.  You will also, “she emphasized, “continue your normal studies and attendance at court, all of the subjects of history, language, poetry that you currently study.  You will forgo any future weapons studies with Kyrelian, your knowledge of basic weaponry is sufficient, and would only interfere with the learning of the blade song.  Meditation is of course an important part of the ritual.”  She paused as if considering her final words, “the prince also requires that you will, at the appropriate time, serve as his aide within his command, and eventually in whatever capacity he deems necessary within the Royal Guard for at least twenty-five years.  This will all be in addition to your training to learn the song.  Only when all of these conditions have been met, will I personally conduct the final stages of your study.  I promise that I will do my utmost to insure your failure.  For if I do not, I will have failed in my duty to pass on the knowledge that your ancestor passed onto me. “

“Your comments suggest that you do not want me to make this attempt,” suggested the young elf.

“If they only suggest, then I have failed to make myself clear,” announced Geledrial.  “I do not want you to make the attempt.  Only the most committed of elves can succeed.  If they do so for any reason other than they are driven to, if they are performing such actions because they believe someone else wants them to, that elf shall fail.  I would prefer not to waste any effort on someone such as that.”

“Elyrienne,” interjected the prince, “Lerellian will go with you tonight to, as much as possible, give you the details of what the first decade shall entail.  It is all that can be expected to understand until one has made progress within the training.  Even I do not understand much more of the song and dance than that, and I have a great deal of experience with many things.  Ask him what questions you may, but I do not want an answer until the second moon rises again to this phase.  You may take longer to make the decision, but Grand Master Geledrial and I will not take an answer any sooner.”

“Lerellian, please walk with Elyrienne tonight and provide what information you may.”

“Of course father,” replied Lerellian,, “it will be my plasure.”

After the two had departed the presence of the prince, Darthoradan said, “He will say yes, he is driven by an inner need to succeed that which even he fails to recognize.”

“I suspect he will say yes as well, few recognize the challenges they face until they face them.  But I think that need may need to be broken, in order for him to understand that failure teaches more than success, and failure at a critical time may be disastrous to all instead of just danger to a friend or himself.”