Arahsay’s Song Rev. 2

Lor Davcar had always been beautiful. A peaceful place full of tranquility and life, where even the wild animals were kind and gentle. Lor Davcar was beauty itself until one night, when the darkest shadows overcame the goodness. They crept into the sacred place of life and stole its heart. 

At least, that was what Arahsay felt. 

Arahsay was the whisperer of Lor Davcar, but her sister was the healer. She had been connected to her since the beginning of time. Her heart was bound to hers with an impenetrable bond of love and sisterhood. 

But her sister was gone. 

Darkness clawed at her mind, reminding her day after day, night after night, of that darkest hour. Memories plagued her, memories that could never be banished, never forgotten. You could have saved her. Her mind whispered you could have stopped them. Shame, that was what she felt. Shame. 

Arahsay stood and looked around her. The summer green of the land was fading to the reds and golds of fall.

When the leaves turn to fire, and the air grows crisp. That was what the elder had said (goodness knows how poetic he had felt then, but Arahsay knew what he meant). When autumn draws near, Legend Haven seek. There, you will find one who will show you the secrets of the deep. 

The place he spoke of, the deep, was a place of infernal terrors. Where her sister was. 

Arahsay shouldered her packs and grasped her lightstaff. She would need it in the days to come. And so, on that day when the leaves turned to fire and the air became crisp, Arahsay left Lor Davcar forever.

As the sun warmed the earth on its slow ascent into the heavens, Arahsay plotted her route to Legend Haven. Only the elder had been able to give her an idea about where this place could be. Seek it beyond the Gorgath mountains and beneath the singing tree. 

Arahsay smiled grimly. The elder knew she was a whisperer, not some strong hero. She would need a guide, a mentor. That was why she was traveling to the city of Harbek. There was one who lived there who could help her learn. His name was Ranor, and he could help her... if he wanted to.

Harbek was a good day’s trek from Lor Davcar. This city was renowned for being a labyrinthine mess. People went there to gaze at its incredible size and dizzying streets. 

But as soon as Arahsay set foot within Harbek, she instantly disliked it. The air felt sour and smelled dirty; nothing was clean. The worst thing was that there was no life. Yes, there were people; the city was swarming with them, roaming the streets and sneaking through the alleys. But there were no plants, no animals; and, thanks to the angle of the buildings towering over her, no sky. 

Arahsay shuddered. Her magic dwelt within the life of others, and there was no life here. But she had a mission. So she went forward, going to the place where she knew her mentor would be.

The tavern was foul. Loud, tuneless music vibrated the floorboards. People huddled over sticky countertops, drinking vile concoctions. Arahsay walked past the bar, hiding her lightstaff in her cloak. She did not want to attract any attention. 

The man she was looking for was standing at the back of the building, leaning against the wall, concealed in the shadows. Arahsay would know this figure anywhere: Ranor. 

“Ah, so you have come,” he said. 

“I have come for a teacher,” she answered. 

“Why would the great whisperer of Lor Davcar come to seek out a lowly mortal?”

 Arahsay’s eyes flashed, and her lightstaff glowed. “Do not mock me.” 

The man pulled himself from the wall and stepped into the dim light, revealing his scarred face and rough features. “I know what happened, Arahsay. Where are you going?” 

“Legend Haven,” she answered. 

“Who gave you that hare-brained idea?” He asked with a smirk. 

“The elder of Lor Davcar,” she answered coolly. 

“He is nuts,” Ranor retorted. 

“So am I. And I need a guide.” 

The man smiled crookedly and held out his hand. “We have a deal.”

They crossed the desert of Skrin together. in the mountains of Gorgath, they fought the deadly Narwolf. But there was more to come. 

            One lonely night, as the full moon rose in the velvet sky, they attacked—wraiths of the deep, vicious servants of the Dark Lord Grydar. Arahsay was drifting to sleep when they came. Silent as smoke, darker than shadows. 

They descended upon her in a matter of seconds, one pinning her arms behind her back and another wrenching her lightstaff from her grasp. She bit back a cry of terror as sharp claws raked across her face, covering her mouth. She struggled helplessly as she watched them overtake Ranor, her mentor. 

A wraith’s voice hissed in her ear. “Don’t move, or your friend dies.” 

The wraiths holding Ranor tied him up and forced him to his knees. Then the wraith removed his claws from Arahsay’s face. 

“What do you want?” she asked, and the hands holding her tightened their grasp painfully. 

“We want you.” The voice hissed. “Renounce your powers to us, and your friend will go free.” 

She looked over at Ranor. They want me to join them. 

Ranor gazed up at her. “Don’t do it, Arahsay…” 

He got no further. A wraith lashed out at him with a knife, stabbing him in the side. He fell to the ground with a groan. Arahsay knew that she could not struggle, or it would worsen Ranor’s position. 

“I will give myself to Grydar.” She told the wraiths. “Give me my staff.” 

The wraith holding her staff hesitated. She locked her eyes with its ugly ones. “My staff.” 

The wraith handed it to her reluctantly as the one holding her hands released her. She took the staff, heart pounding, and closed her eyes to focus her power. The staff glowed a bright purple. 

Ranor, in his position, saw what was happening, and his heart sank. No… 

The wind began to swirl around Arahsay. Her cloak billowed around her as she raised the staff and opened her eyes. Sorrow mixed with fiery determination. “For Grydar,” she whispered, “I give this!” 

Light poured from her staff: blinding, living light. The wind swirled harder as the rays shone brighter and brighter. Above it all, Arahsay sang. She sang her song of life, the words older and more powerful than a tempest. 

When she stopped, the light dissipated, leaving her and the wraiths all in their places. The wind dropped, and so did the wraiths. Then Arahsay staggered over to Ranor. 

“Are you all right?” she whispered hoarsely. 

Ranor turned to face her. “You saved my life.” 

Arahsay smiled. “I hope so, but they didn’t give me much choice.” 

“You defeated six of Grydar’s wraiths, Arahsay; you have become powerful.” 

“I don’t understand why they didn’t kidnap me outright, though. Why did they give me a choice?” 

Ranor smiled, “They are afraid of you. Grydar needs you to surrender to him because he cannot fight you. He will use your sister to fulfill his wishes.” 

Arahsay shook her head. “I will reach him before he does. My sister will not die.” 

Ranor observed her expression. “He left you a message, didn’t he?” 

Arahsay clenched her teeth. “He will regret he did.”

Traveling was slow due to Ranor’s worsening condition. They went a long distance before approaching a forest’s tree line. Arahsay left Ranor at their camp and went to explore the surrounding area. 

She walked to the forest edge. The elder’s words about the ‘singing tree’ rang in her mind. As she walked, a particular tree caught her eye: it was a tall, slender birch tree. The usual silvery-white bark rose into its pale yellow leaves. But it was the tree’s emotion that caused her to stop and notice it. This tree was filled with hope. 

Arahsay walked up to the tree to examine it. Placing her hand on the smooth bark, she closed her eyes. A beautiful, clear note drifted through her mind, and the tree trembled. 

When she pulled her hand away, the song stopped. But its lovely notes lingered in her mind. Arahsay’s eyes grew wide with wonder. She had spoken to trees before, but they were never like this. This tree knew her.

It spoke her name. Arahsay. 

Arahsay did not know what to do. Should she run and get Ranor? Should she stay? She glanced up at the golden leaves; they rustled in the breeze. 

Only one can enter this portal and travel to Legend Haven, the tree said. Only a legend can enter. 

But Ranor was also a legend; both of them had traveled a long way. She had magic; she could find another way. Ranor would die if she left him. 

She looked up at the tree. Wait for me. 

The tree bowed its branches mournfully. But Arahsay would not allow the tree to answer. He must not die, she thought.

Arahsay told Ranor that she had found the singing tree. His eyes filled with hope at her words. She helped him to the foot of the tree; then she looked up. With her lightstaff in one hand, she spoke to the tree. Take him. 

The tree shuddered and pleaded. You will never be able to enter Legend Haven again. 

Arahsay resisted; I will find another way. Ranor must live. 

Smiling sadly, she turned to Ranor. “Prepare yourself,” she said. 

Then, taking a deep breath, she sang. At her voice, the tree began to stir; leaves began to swirl around Arahsay, surrounding her in a shifting pattern of yellow gold. Arahsay turned to Ranor, a tear sliding down her face as the tree’s song blended with hers. Light poured from her staff and enveloped Ranor. “Our ways part here, friend,” she told him. “You will heal in this new place.”

Realization of what was happening hit Ranor. “No, Arahsay,” he cried, “you must save your sister.” 

Arahsay continued to send the light from her staff toward Ranor. But what Ranor did next took her by surprise. With a cry of determination, he lunged at her and knocked the lightstaff from her grasp. Then he faced her and spoke the very words she had been singing. 

Arahsay became frozen as the leaves made a golden wall around her, blocking her view. Then, all became clear around her, though she was still immobilized. 

The tree spoke. He has given his life for you. And in his courage, he found his magic. 

Tears poured down Arahsay’s cheeks as she watched Ranor crumple to the ground with a faint smile on his lips. He had saved her. Black walls began to form around her as all vision faded. He was dead.

A hard impact brought Arahsay to her senses. She was lying on a cold stone floor. Around her was a low-roofed cave, with a small tunnel off to her right. 

Arahsay stepped into the tunnel and followed it briefly before entering a vast cavern. Three walls of the cavern were mossy rock. The wall across from her was hidden by a waterfall, but light shone through the water as if there was daylight on the other side. It cast a cool blue light around the cavern. 

Beside the waterfall was a dead tree. Its rugged, black limbs twisting up to arch above the opening. 

Arahsay approached the water curtain, wondering how she would pass it. That was when she felt the tree beside her tremble. Turning to face it, she placed a hand tentatively against its bark. A part of the trunk began to twist beneath her fingers, curling into a staff of spiraling wood that fit easily in her hand. 

She stared in awe: it was her lightstaff! 

Then, to her surprise, the whole tree burst into leaf. The leaves spread into the water, pushing it aside and creating an entrance. Without hesitation, Arahsay stepped through. 

She was standing on a hill overlooking an incredible sight. Majestic creatures soared through the sky. Beautiful houses were built into trees, cliffs, and rock formations. 

Arahsay walked down into a town-like square. A small, rustic sign advertising soup and bread caught her eye. She decided to get something to eat while planning her next move. After eating soup, Arahsay went to the counter to leave her dishes and pay. As she turned to leave, a tall man next to her commented. “You are new to Legend Haven, yes?” 

Arahsay turned to the speaker with interest. “I just arrived, but I won’t be staying long.” 

“Oh?” the man said, surprised. “No one comes here to sightsee. This place is like a retirement for legends.” 

“I got here because I am a legend,” Arahsay replied. “But I came here to find help.” 

“Help?” The man asked, “What’s your name?” 

“Arahsay,” she said, extending a hand. 

He shook it with a smile. “I am Darith, better known as the Bain of the Plains. I used to live in Rothgar.” 

“I am the whisperer of Lor Davcar,” Arahsay said. “I am looking for the deep; I have unfinished business with Lord Grydar.” 

A curious light came into Darith’s eyes. “Shall we sit?” he asked, gesturing to a table. 

Once they were sitting, Darith leaned across the table, speaking in a hushed voice. “You wish to go to the deep?” 

Arahsay nodded. “Do you know how to get there?” 

Darith looked apprehensive. “It is not a good place…” 

“I know that,” Arahsay said. “But I must go there to save someone.” 

Darith looked away for a moment. “I can take you to the door. But I won’t go in with you.” 

“The deep is in Legend Haven?” Arahsay asked with surprise. 

Darith gave her a grim smile. “Legend Haven is not just for good legends; the deep is another place for evil to stay. Legendary evil, beneath Legend Haven.” 

Arahsay’s eyes hardened with determination. “Take me there.”

A huge iron door with heavy bolts barred their way. As Darith lifted the heavy latch, the door swung outward, black darkness looming. 

“The deep,” he whispered, turning to Arahsay. 

She took a deep breath and illuminated her lightstaff. “Thank you, Darith.” 

Darith nodded, “May you finish your quest.” 

Arahsay stepped through the doorway. 

“Farwell,” Darith called as the door slammed shut behind her. 

Arahsay waited. She knew he would come, and he did. 

“Arahsay…” 

The sinister voice came from the darkness around her. Then a bright green light lit up a shadowed figure. It was holding a staff forged by Grydar himself, set with a green stone that held all his powers. 

“We meet, Grydar,” Arahsay called out. “Where is she?” 

“Your sister?” the voice taunted. “She is in my dungeon, locked away in a cell you will never reach. That is, unless you comply.” 

“Give myself to you?” Arahsay asked. “That is all you want?” 

“Yes,” Grydar hissed, “give your power to me, and your sister will go free.” 

“No!” Arahsay shouted, directing a bolt of light from her staff at Grydar. 

Grydar chuckled hollowly. “You are so weak compared to me.” A green ball of light encircled him, deflecting Arahsay’s strike. He then pointed his staff at Arahsay and the light encircled her, lifting her into the air. “Your magic is useless!” he laughed. “Your sister will die unless you yield.” 

He suddenly removed the light. Arahsay fell to the ground with a dull thud. She lay on the ground in a painful heap. Doubt and fear filled her mind. 

Maybe there is no other way, she thought; I must submit to him. 

She looked up. Grydar was standing over her, a hideous smile stretched across his face. His staff glowed. 

“I could just kill you,” he mused. “Then you would be gone forever. But I need your magic; with it, my power will be complete.” 

Again, the green light encircled Arahsay as a deep pain filled her, rendering her limbs immobile. She cried out as he pounded his fearsome magic across her. 

Grydar stopped and moved away, waiting for her to approach him. Arahsay gritted her teeth and found her courage through a cloud of pain. Reaching out, she grasped her lightstaff and rose haltingly. The staff glowed feebly in her hands. Grydar laughed, preparing to deflect her magic again. 

But Arahsay did not strike. She held her staff in front of her and sang. 

Grydar watched, confused. Suddenly, his staff began to break apart. Pieces of it disintegrated into green light– which, in turn, began to swirl around Arahsay. Grydar roared angrily; she had found the one way, the one fault. 

He tried desperately to reclaim his diminishing power. But Arahsay’s song was too powerful. 

Finally, the last of the magic from Grydar’s staff joined above hers, glowing brilliantly. Arahsay began to glow, her body trying to absorb the powerful magic she was giving it. The whole deep began to shake, and beams of sunlight began to penetrate the realm of darkness. Grydar shrieked an unearthly cry as his power consumed him, destroying him. 

When Grydar fell, brilliant light filled the place. Arahsay stood on the light, singing her song. 

Then, with a mighty rumble, the deep disappeared. 

Arahsay collapsed, her staff crumbling into nothing between her fingers. Her body was fading, overwhelmed by the magic she had put upon herself. 

In her fading consciousness, she heard a soft voice. “Arahsay.” Tender hands lifted her head gently. 

Arahsay’s eyes fluttered open. A beautiful girl was gazing down at her, her soft, golden hair framing her lovely face. Her sister. The girl stroked Arahsay’s face, a tear trickling down her cheek. “Arahsay,” she said again. 

Arahsay smiled, whispering her sister’s name with a tremor of joy. “Celestia.” 

Then she closed her eyes. Forever.