The Shadow of Elventree

Part 6

The streets of Elventree twisted and writhed in the grip of chaos, cloaked in the thick smoke and relentless shadows cast by the marauding flames. Thalion moved through this turmoil like a wraith, cloaked by some sort of shadow magic that turned him into a spectral figure among the ruins of his home. His new-found abilities allowed him to evade the drow invaders with ease. His steps were almost soundless, turning each encounter with the drow into swift and decisive confrontations. With his brother's prayer echoing in his mind—'I bid my soul glide across the moon and stars with you, Elffather'—Thalion knew his destination: the Shrine of Corellon Larethian.

Upon entering the shrine, Thalion was enveloped by the tranquillity of an ancient sanctuary. The interior was a hollow within the massive oak, its walls alive with the gnarled roots and bark of the venerable tree, which arched overhead to form a natural dome. The air cool and fragrant with the scents of oak and myrrh. Small lanterns hung from the branches, their soft glow illuminating the carved wooden icons of a crescent moon adorned on the walls. As he approached the altar, set in a recess carved from the tree's heart, the surrounding area thrummed with an otherworldly energy. He quickly discerned a faint outline of a hidden compartment within the altar. A barrier of shimmering light materialized, its radiant patterns posing a silent query to his soul.

"Why should the power of the Elffather be entrusted to one who walks in shadows, born of two worlds yet master of none?" a voice resonated, ethereal and commanding within the confines of the shrine.

Thalion faced this divine interrogation with a steadfast gaze. "My journey through shadows has taught me the worth of light," he declared, his tone steady and clear. "Though born of two worlds, I am bound to both, committed wholly to their safeguard. I seek not dominance, but unity and protection for those ensnared by strife."

The barrier, sensing the purity of his intent, dissipated gracefully, unveiling his brother's Pendant of Prophecy. It was a stunning artifact, a teardrop-shaped emerald set in delicately wrought silver, its surfaces engraved with elven runes that pulsed with a vibrant, living light. Clasping the pendant, Thalion felt a surge of divine warmth envelop him. Empowered and resolute, Thalion stepped out from the shrine. His stride was confident; his newly embraced shadows not a cloak for hiding but a symbol of his resolve. No longer was he merely a bystander.

As he manoeuvred back towards the Listening Tree, the chaos of Elventree unfolded around him—a landscape marked by chaos and devastation. Amidst the enveloping smoke and encroaching flames, Thalion emerged from the shadows with stealth and precision. He appeared like a spectre beside a group of villagers cornered by a squadron of drow soldiers. His arrival was heralded by a fleeting whisper of darkness, his silhouette cutting through the dim light like a blade. With movements sharpened by his shadow magic, he engaged the drow with a series of rapid, almost invisible strikes. His daggers danced in his hands, each thrust and parry so fluid and precise that his foes seemed to fall almost serenely.

The villagers watched in awe, their fear momentarily replaced by a flicker of hope as each enemy was dispatched with a deft flick of shadow-wrapped steel. Standing amidst the swiftly fallen enemies, Thalion turned to address the gathered townsfolk, his gaze intense with a fierce determination. "Today, we stand at the precipice," he began, his voice rising above the crackling of flames and the distant cries of conflict. "Our town burns, our families are threatened, but we are not defeated—not so long as we stand together." He paced before the crowd, his figure a stark contrast against the backdrop of destruction, his shadow melding with the smoke. "I have long watched from the shadows, but no more. I have witnessed the horrors these invaders wield, and I refuse to let fear dictate our fate."

The murmur of agreement that swept through the crowd knitted together the tattered edges of their collective courage.

"We are of different blood, that is true. But today, those distinctions vanish. Today, we are one. United against a common enemy." Among the group of townspeople, he spotted Eldric, bow in hand. "Eldric, gather the archers. Use the walkways, the bridges. Take the high ground. We need eyes on every approach."