Worldbuilding Wednesday: Alaila’s Daughters, part 2

The first part of Alaila’s Daughters can be read here. The first of the Tellerassar legends can be found here, and more about the Tellerassar can be found here.

Or, head over to Kammastories, where the story is postedtoday in full.

Alaila’s Daughters are Scattered

Ikaira did not leave the riverbank even when the sun rose towards its zenith and all his tears were spent. Only when the sun lit the waters of the gorge from above did he see movement in the water. It was Alaila. She wore a dress the colour of the shadows of the deepest pools and her eyes brimmed with tears. Ikaira rushed to the water and embraced her.

“Where is Lamira?” he asked, for he did not see his daughter who usually followed her mother everywhere.

“She is safe in our halls,” Alaila said and motioned towards the wall of rock from where the waters of the river flowed. “Hidden there we can all be safe. Dalath and her kin do not know of this place. We have left them to roam about the river to the south. They have twisted our Gift.” Tears flowed from her eyes. “My gift. I was a fool to think that such a gift could not be twisted to serve the Lewjan.”

They walked hand in hand along the river – Alaila lightly stepping in the shallow water; as far as she could venture out while the moon wasn’t full, and Ikaira walking along the bank – while Alaila told him all that had happened while he had been away.

“War still rages between the people of the Midlands,” she then added. “Markus leads raids to the river towns and villages nearly every week. They have even ventured to the northern bank where they have gotten a foothold. I fear for the safety of my people. With the Vídolf’s involvement we will only be seen as another enemy even though we serve the Light. I do not see a way out for us. We cannot hide in our halls forever even if they are safe. Some have left the river at night to look for other pools and streams. We do not know if they are still alive.”

Photo: Sias van Schalkwyk

Ikaira thought for a long time before speaking. “There is one way. The lands gifted to the Tellerassar are safe. No one can attack our houses on the cliffs.” He took a deep breath, remembering all that had happened to him while in the service of Markus. “I have men to spare – warriors and soldiers who can keep you safe. We can fly over the river and keep an eye out for any of the Vídolf.” Alaila wanted to protest, but he would not let her. “We can fly out of the range of Markus or anyone else’s arrows. We are as safe high in the air as you are in your stone halls.”

And so it was that the Tellerassar took to flying above the water, calling to each other over distances, as they watched the actions of the Vídolf closely. It was these Tellerassar about whom the first legend was told and each eagle people saw were thought to be Ikaira still searching for his lost love. And it was these Tellerassar – who were skilled fighters and had knowledge of both the northern and the southern parts of the Midlands – that became Keepers, aligning themselves with both Théotriewe and Holt Haliern. Tiriane, who played a notable part in the story “A Dragon’s Freedom”, was one of these Tellerassar. 

Legends of Airthai – The Tellerassar’s Cry

Welcome to the first Worldbuilding Wednesday of 2013. This legend from the world of Airthai is about the race of shape-shifters called the Tellerassar. To read more about the Tellerassar, the kingdom of Guldargan, and king Markus, follow the links at the bottom of the post.

Why the Tellerassar’s Cry is so Mournful

Photo by Sias van Schalkwyk

It all happened on the day on which Ikaira, fleeing the Kingdom of Guldargan with his people, was trapped in a gorge near the Great River, which flows across the breadth of the Midlands of Airthai. A clear river flowed from crevices at the far end of the gorge, the water cutting deep into the light coloured rock as it rushed towards the Great River. Ikaira realized that there was no way for his followers to escape and that they would all surely perish at the hand of King Markus’ soldiers who were by this time driven mad with bloodlust for their hunted quarry. He called out to the Creator, begging him to save his people from Markus’ wrath.

They watched with horror as the soldiers approached, and some of Ikaira’s followers tried to climb up the steep sides of the gorge, but all slid on smooth boulders or loose rocks and fell to the bottom with horrible cries. Again Ikaira prayed and begged, joined by his people, for they saw their deaths approach.

Even as they pushed the women and children to the back of the group a mist began to form around them. The strange mist rose from the deep waters, becoming thicker and thicker as it rose until the group was hidden from sight. Each of Ikaira’s followers felt a strangeness overcome them as their bodies changed and moulded to the forms of eagles.  

"Morning Mist" by Cbcs

Ikaira and his followers beat their wings and soared into the sky. But the archers among the soldiers of Markus nocked their barbed arrows and shot a volley towards the mist and, when the eagles rose above the mist, another volley was ordered.

Only six of Ikaira’s followers were hit, but among them was Alaila – the young woman Ikaira dearly loved and to whom he was engaged. With a shriek she fell from the sky, turning back into her human form. Ikaira saw her blue-clothed form disappear into the fog above the river.

Driven back from the river by the soldier’s arrows, Ikaira’s followers headed north at the command of his call – the language that they all could now understand. But Ikaira stayed behind, landing on a tree on the edge of the cliff, his heart broken in countless pieces and unable to understand why he had been saved and Alaila had not. When his breast could contain the grief no longer, he threw his head back and shouted her name to the heavens even as his voice was wrecked with sobs. This mournful call became the cry of all Tellerassar.

"Water and Rocks" by Stephen O'Neill

And to this day the Tellerassar’s cry as it flies above rivers and lakes haunts all those who hear it. It is even said by some that Ikaira still lives on in a ghostly form, always returning to the gorge and the river where Alaila perished, still seeker his love. Only when he at last finds her would his soul finally be at rest.

A real fish eagle Tellerassar...

In the next Worldbuilding Wednesday: The Daughters of Alaila

More Worldbuilding:

• The Tellerassar
• Guldargan and the Shape-shifters

Vrydag Fiksie – Ikaira se oorwinning

Ietsie vooraf
Hierdie is dié week se stukkie wat ek geskryf het na aanleiding van Woes se Woord van die Week. Dié week se woord is “wen” en moet die woord “wen” of “oorwinning” in die titel bevat. Met die dat ek Woensdag die wêreldbou stuk “The Midland Wars” op Hersenskim gaan plaas het, was dié gebeure op die voorgrond van my gedagtes.

Vir diegene wat lus is om die hele gedeelte van The Midland Wars te lees, kan hierdie pdf afgelaai word. Ek is wel ook aan die vertaal van hierdie stuk om dit in Afrikaans beskikbaar te hê so gou as moontlik. Maar eers, hier is ’n nuwe Airthai-verhaal.

Ikaira se oorwinning
Die rook van verskeie vure het steeds laag oor die vlakte gelê. Vlekke gebrande gras het suid vanaf die blou waters die Groot Rivier gelê. Reënwolke het begin saampak bo die slagveld en Ikaira het met donker oë na die grys wolke gestaar. Stukkies verbrande gras en blare is deur die wind rondgedwarrel deur die kamp.

“Die oorlog is verby.” Sy stem klink nie soos sy eie nie. Die stelling self klink soos ’n leuen. Sy hele lewe het hy geleef met die wete van die uitgerekte oorlog in die Middellande. Die oorlog wat die volgelinge van Gile net nie wou ophou veg nie. Nou staan hy hier by sy tent in sy kamp en kyk na die soldate feesvier. Na sy vader se dood net ’n dag tevore kan hy nie in die feesvieringe deel nie.

“Ikaira.”

Hy ruk van die skrik toe iemand ’n mantel om sy skouers hang. Hy het nie eens besef dat hy van die koue reënwind begin bewe het nie. Ikaira draai terug na die tent. Binne is verskeie bevelvoerders en sommige van die Bewakers van Holt Haliern en Théotriewe na die noorde. Die Oueres van die Bewakers dra donkerrooi mantels en hy besef dat dit een van die Bewakers se groen mantels is wat oor sy skouers gegooi is. ’n Hartseer glimlag trek-trek aan sy mondhoeke.

“Die oorwinning is ons s’n.” Dan glimlag hy opreg. “Guldargan het gewen. Die Fáll is oorwin.”
Een van die Oueres, Ragnar, tree stadig vorentoe en leun op sy kierie. “Wat van die ander koninkryke – Ealdfesten, Treddian... Aefterra?”

"Die oorlog is verby"

Deur sy uitdrukking en die ander se stilte besef Ikaira dat hy voor ’n toets staan. “Guldargan het baie grond verloor – en sy aansien in die Middellande. Maar ons sal vrede hê,” voeg hy dan by en trek die mantel stywer om sy skouers. “Ons sal ons land weer opbou.” Hy aarsel slegs ’n oomblik. “Met die Bewakers se hulp, hoop ek.”

Ragnar knik sy kop. Ikaira het die toets geslaag. “Die besprekings kan môre begin. Vanaand het ons almal rus nodig. Maar eers moet Guldargan se nuwe koning gekroon word.”

Een van die kapteins bring ’n versierde houtkissie na vore en Ragnar maak dit oop. Binne, op ’n gebondelde stuk materiaal lê die kroon van Guldargan – ’n kroon wat slegs ’n dag tevore steeds op die koning se kop gepryk het tydens die geveg.  Ikaira se hart klop vinniger en hy voel sy palms klam raak. Dan kniel hy voor Ragnar en die Ouere lê die kroon op sy hoof. Wanneer hy opstaan, kniel die Bewakers en kapteins van Guldargan voor hom. Asof hy in ’n waas beweeg, word ’n nuwe mantel om sy skouers gehang en word hy na buite die tent gelei en aan die soldate voorgestel as die nuwe koning. Al begin die reën saggies val, begin die feesvieringe nou opreg.

Terug in die tent skryf Ikaira kort notas, seël dit, en laat roep die boodskappers. Nuus van die nuutgekroonde koning moet so gou as moontlik versprei word. Dan roep hy Ragnar.

“Die Fáll wat nou op die Argavér Vlakte is, is afgesny van toegang tot voedsel.”

“Wat stel u voor, majesteit?” Ragnar se stem is laag, versigtig.


’n Ruk later staan Ikaira op die oewer van die Groot Rivier saam met ’n paar Bewakers, sy kapteins en ’n paar soldate. By hulle is ’n paar bondels kos wat in geoliede lap toegedraai is. Hulle laai die bondels op ’n vlot gemaak uit ’n paar stompe wat rofweg aanmekaar gebind is en laat dit dan by die rivier afdryf in die rigting van die Fáll.

“Die Fáll se vrouens en kinders is ook in hulle kampe,” sê Ikaira. “Ek sal nie met myself kan saamleef as ek weet dat ek hulle laat honger ly nie.”

Ragnar hou Ikaira fyn dop. Die jongerige man se oë is donker. In die laaste paar dae het hy baie beleef. Miskien te veel. Maar sy optrede na die bloedige geveg spreek boekdele.

“U sal ’n goeie koning maak,” sê hy en knik gerusstellend. “Kom rus. Môre is ’n groot dag.”

**

Foto deur Steve Todey , skets deur The Graphics Fairy