Trinity Awakening

Morton / TRINITY - AWAKENING /
177

Trinity

Book One

Awakening

K.L.Morton

PROLOGUE

'Faerie is a perilous land, and in it are pitfalls for the unwary, and dungeons for the over-bold.’ – J.R.R.Tolkien                                                                                  

“Aarion.” Aarion spun around to see who called him, although he had already guessed. Morthos, one of Aarion's
best friends since childhood, was standing with his arms folded across his large, muscular chest, his straight blonde hair which fell just below his broad shoulders had a hint of red from the fading sunlight. He held a straight face, though Aarion could definitely see excitement and humor in his brown eyes, whether it was because of the reason Morthos wanted to see him, or just because it was the most exciting festival of the year, he was unsure, but he wanted to know.
             
"What is it Morthos?"
             
             
             
             
             
"It's Garus!" Morthos said rolling his eyes. Aarion jumped out of his honoree seat in the amphitheater near the village market, where he had been listening to a Fairon Maiden playing her harp and singing of lost love. He nodded to the tall, beautiful, black haired girl in recognition of her act so far and quietly moved out of the crowd to meet with his friend, relieved he had been rescued from the constant flirtatious looks he had been receiving during her performance. "Another admirer Aarion, meeting with her later?" Morthos asked in a bored voice.
             
             
             
"Morthos, she's not my type, but I'd be happy to introduce you." Aarion patted his friend on the back. 
             
             
"I don't think anybody is your type Aarion, but feel free to arrange a meet up for me." Morthos replied, raising his eyebrow and turning to wink at the alluring performer.
             
"Now about Garus, what's he done this time?" Aarion asked with laughter in his voice.
             
             
             
             
"He entered!" Morthos picked up his pace along side Aarion as he walked down a row of small stalls and shops that had been set up for the festival. Each stall was brimming over with handcrafted goods or freshly farmed fruit and vegetables; they were busy with customers haggling for the best price. Children were darting in and out of the crowds
and the street was buzzing with excitement. 
             
             
             
"Why does he do this to himself, last time he couldn't walk for a week, what pretty Fae is he trying to impress this time, is it Trista, the bakers daughter?"
             
             
             
             
"A little closer to home I'm afraid. Your sister has been blessed with being the new object of Garus's affection, and he feels the 'Tournament of Light' is his
moment of glory
." Morthos cracked, he laughed so hard that you could tell he didn't laugh very often as Aarion looked taken aback by his friend’s outburst.
             
             
             
             
             
             
"He's been trying to get my sister to look his way since childhood, there's nothing new about that affection. But Parisa is only interested in warrior Fae, and Garus is just not in that category."
             
             
             
             
             
             
"He's not even in a sub-category!" Morthos was back to his straight face, but still spoke with humor. "The tournament starts in ten minutes, if we hurry we might get a close enough seat to see him trip over himself in front of the whole realm."
             
             
             
             
             
             
Aarion smiled his perfect angelic smile and the two friends picked up their pace toward the arena, taking in the joyous atmosphere of the festival. 

It was a warm midsummers night, a soft breeze blew gently through the large Oak trees that stood tall and strong around them. Hundreds of Will'o'wisps lit up the forest like giant fireflies, the trees were aglow. There was music coming from all corners of the festival, laughter and singing filled the air like a sweet fragrance. Aarion and Morthos reached the edge of a giant arena that opened up to a gladiator type
field,
it was filled with challengers spread out over a lush green grass. The arena had been built from large grey stone blocks, each block
a meter high, twenty tiers in all, and nearly every space was filled. Aarion and Morthos made their way through the excited crowd until they found some empty spaces.  "We can always sit with your family Aarion." Morthos stated.

             
"I prefer being down here, it's a much better view." Aarion sat next to an older Fae Warrior who nodded respectfully at him, Aarion nodded back, then looked around to take in the array. Fairies were mixing with Fairon and Pixies were flittering above heads in the crowd, occasionally landing on a shoulder to let someone know what they thought of the gathering competitors. Aarion admired the spirit of sodality that the festival brought and he enjoyed being amongst it while he could, he knew that in the morning he would be back to his vigorous training schedule and the repetitive routine of the palace. As he looked to the left of the domain he could see his father and Garus standing in an archway. "I'll be right back." Aarion stood up and headed toward the two men talking, Morthos acknowledged his friend but his eyes were distracted by what he thought was the movement of a dark shadow in one of the oak trees just outside the arena, but with so many Will-o-wisps lighting up the place it was hard to see.
Most likely a cheeky Pixie getting a better view,
he thought to himself.

             
Aarion entered through the arch that said
Competitors Only,
and walked over to his friend Garus, catching the end of his father’s speech.

             
“.... You’ll just embarrass yourself like every other time you try to do something like this!"

             
"King Toron, I appreciate your concern for me," Garus was smirking. "But you'll be surprised, I've been practicing."

             
"Well Garus, I wish you much luck, much luck indeed!"

Aarion greeted his father with an embrace and proceeded to pat Garus on the back and mockingly check that his over sized Armor was fitted as tightly as it could be to his slim, lanky frame.  

             
"Ha, Ha. Very funny."  Garus said in a dry sarcastic tone while keeping a smirk on his face. "You will see Aarion, I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

             
"I have no doubt you have surprises in store for us Garus, I look forward to seeing the outcome of tonight's events, I'm sure my sister will be impressed at your warrior like attitude."  Garus turned his head toward Princess Parisa, where she sat elegantly next to her mother. Her long, dark wavy hair shimmered and her porcelain skin seemed to glow under the first rays of moonlight as evening fell. She smiled down at her brother Aarion, and her eyes were quickly diverted to Garus who had placed himself in front of her brother to be in her line of sight. Garus flexed his non-existent muscles and added a wink in her direction. He was rewarded with a small smile of acknowledgment, but was quickly disappointed as she briskly turned her attention to the field of other competitors. Aarion patted his friend encouragingly on the back. Garus lifted his chin proudly and entered the field to take his place amongst the daunting array of tall, taunt warrior men of the Fae.

             
"Well this is going to be interesting," King Toron said.

             
"Yes it is father." Aarion met his father’s warm, dark brown eyes and smiled at the hint of humor behind them.

             
"So my son, when will we see you trying hard to win a fair Faes heart?" 

             
"Father, I have got more important things to do than waste my time on matters of the heart, the Ora is my priority. See you after the tournament." Aarion nodded to his father, who was looking a little amused at his son and swiftly made his way back to his seat where Morthos was waiting for him, eagerly anticipating the start of Garus's pain.

             
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Fairy and Fae of distant lands." The booming, majestic voice sounded over the crowd and welcomed the visitors. "Welcome to tonight's tournament and thank you for coming together to celebrate the
Great Festival of Light
, where we remember the battle of Taeith 500 years ago." A great cheer let out from the crowd, voices united in gratitude and remembrance, some of the young Fae waved red and white flags. Pixies threw red and white petals over the crowd. White representing the light, red for the blood spilt from the loved ones that fought but were lost many years ago. "As tradition calls, tonight, the last night of the
Festival of Light
is when the Fae warriors come to compete for a place of serving with the elite 'Guards of the Ora'. This is a great honor bestowed on only the greatest of champions. The Ora is the life of the mystical realms of Fairy and Fae, of all magical creatures, it is the
Fairons
great privilege to protect it. Now, without further ado, I present our competing warriors... Arum, guard of the Acacia gates." Everyone in the arena erupted, and children jumped from their seats screaming with anticipation as a 6'2", incredibly muscular Fae warrior stood with his right hand held high and long-bow ready for action in his left hand. "Pilosus, of the Queens guard." The Queen let out a cheer of confidence for one of her personal guard, along with many of his adoring fans amongst the crowd, as the handsome dark haired figure stood proud along side his
fellow competitor. More names were read out to the excited gathering, all greeted with great applause as these well-known Fae warriors readied themselves for the competition. "Garus...." The booming voice paused and looked down at the tall thin frame of Garus and his wild black shaggy hair blowing in the night breeze, his large cheesy grin ready to greet the screaming crowd. There was silence and a mixture of puzzled faces; Garus's grin was starting to fade until he saw his friend stand among the crowd in encouragement. The commentators voice boomed once more. "Garus.... friend of Aarion, our great Prince." The crowd erupted in cheers as they saw their prince standing for his childhood friend, Aarion's kindness and unfailing belief in his people was cherished among them, they would stand with him in all things, including supporting his, 'interesting' friend. At that moment, a great thundering noise filled the arena and darkness spread as the
Will-o-wisps
seemed to go out one by one.  A chill caressed the skin of all those attending, silence dulled the air, and a smell of sweet lemons filled the senses!

             
"Lowering your standards King Toron? After 500 years, I would of thought you would have acquired a great army, disappointing, and I was hoping for a decent fight." Her voice was filled with the sweetest of tones, like a beautifully sung song, long billowing white hair flew out from behind her as she descended on a dark cloud of moving shadows into the center of the arena.

             
"The Dark Empress?" The Kings voice was nearly inaudible as he whispered her name in disbelief, a numbness spread over his body when he looked over the crowd of hundreds as the initial shock they felt was now turning into deep-seated fear. Her cool blue eyes were locked on the King as she spoke again.

             
"Lost for words King Toron? Were you not expecting me? I am a little offended that there was no invitation for me to your.... charming celebration. Festival of Light is it? Not so fond of bright things myself, all but one."

             
"You were...destroyed...the elementals? I saw it with my own eyes." Disbelief was strong in the Kings voice.

             
"I am not a mere Fae, Toron. That night so long ago, I was wearing this little trinket." She lifted her right hand to reveal a ring on her middle finger that was made of white gold. Embedded into the top was a dark red tourmaline gemstone, its spectrum of colors reflecting in the light made it look like flames were under the surface. "The
Ring of Fire
, it was a precious gift from the Queen of the Fire Elementals herself, well, I inherited it, or should I say it was passed down to me, from her cold lifeless hand." A small laugh of satisfaction slipped from her dark red lips and her pale face seemed to show a fond memory she held.

             
"You have no right here, no power here!" Authority exploded from his voice, as strength only a King could hold radiated from his tall, bulky frame. The dark Empress smiled, and took in the crowd for a moment, then lay her eyes upon the King with a piercing cold stare, her voice was now even sweeter, but with a deadly sting to each word.