The dream, the sorcerer and the moon

[Manzokushi]

The sun had finally begun to set on the Valley of the Mists. Day and night could become easily confused for even the natives of the valley, a calming peace permeated throughout. Nestled into its center is the village of Sel? Vanseer, the home of the moon elves. The valley and the village within are considered gifts bestowed on the people by their goddess Sehanine Moonbow.  She has been the spiritual guide for the children of the moon for centuries. It is said that long ago she entered the dreams of the sleeping children and guided them from their eternal shackles. All moon elves believe this to be true even one as young as Jornathel Mithraiian. His mother Suen?vashe guardian of the Full Moon, often whispered these stories into his ears at bed time. She spoke of the days of darkness and their exodus from below. Suen?vashe was the current matron during those days. Each elder represented a cycle of the moon, and in their passing the next elder would progress towards the full moon and carry the mantle of matron if the elder was a woman and or chieftain were the elder male. The Litany of the Moon was considered sacred to children of the Moon whispered to be the direct spoken word of Sehanine Moonbow herself. The Litany was a guide book for the Moon Elves a way to live, when escaping from bondage all those generations ago. When a child was old enough sacred rites would be performed under the power of the Moon and the Litany passed and read by the newest members of adults.

Jorn showed little love for the rituals of the village and its elders. He often caused mischief and interrupted his instructors with stories of adventure and fantasy. His mind was a play ground of childhood dreams that carried the boy to the very edges of the valley seeking new places to play. Often times the young elf would be gone for days. He sought to escape it all to find his own world inside this one. When he would return to the village Jorn would create the wildest and elaborate stories of his fantastic journeys. He was a dreamer and Suen?vashe knew the dangers of such a mind among those so desperate for survival. She instead chose to harness his nature to see his aptitude with the Arcane. The days of old flooded back into her mind of boys being tortured at a young age, denied the art forms, branded and often beaten into submission. Slavery was the only path allowed to any male never allowed to raise their eyes. Jorn was different, he possessed the traits necessary all that remained was the knowledge and she would see he never looked to the ground.

Master Avel?shenar would be his teacher. Jorn was informed that morning of his path. It was a lonely path chosen by the elders and only special boys were given this course. Within his heart Jorn knew this to be a blessing for his family. He would be elevated above his peers trained both in the Arcane and in the rigorous Martial art forms. This meant being removed from the village, sent to the other side of the Valley to be trained by the old masters within the ancient Ruins of Myth Heldendrour. Legends state that the old Ruins are host and home to a once great elven civilization, and the birth home of the Moon Elves. At the center of this scared ground is the Lunar Tower. According to the legends the Lunar Tower once powered the city serving as a reactor of arcane power.  All that still stands of the city is the Tower. All around are jagged ruins and buildings devastated by time and unknown dangers. Jorn would be tested, trained, and torn down daily for a very long time with very little time to himself much less to his family. So he escaped leaving the village for a while to simply exist, to be alone, and to dream.

Jorn walked among the ruins, his eyes laden with tears. This was not the course he had dreamed of in his heart. He was destined to be a hero, to venture beyond the valley, make new friends and see the world. Those thoughts and others flittered about as he came upon a ghost. Well what at that moment he thought he saw but was in appearance a white feline, with ghostly eyes. The creature regarded Jorn for a moment before bounding off deeper into the ruins. He followed with interest, if his speculations were correct that had been a cath shee a divine guardian of Sehanie Moonbow herself. The evening passed by while tracking the creature and night descended as the moon rose into the night sky. Perched upon a ancient alter the creature laid in wait amused if Jorn was correct. He spoke aloud, ?my name is Jornathel Mithraiian, are you a cath shee.? He spoke reverently his eyes slightly lowered. The great cat stirred nearly 6? in length, the communication was in his mind, ?hello young moon child, my name is Sytheer, I have been chosen to be your guardian. The goddess has great plans for one such as you, a male no less. It would not do for you to slack in your endeavors. When the time is right you will call to me and I shall come. Until that day should come, your path is before you and your time to avoid it has passed.? Jorn was horrified to hear such things. He was chosen in the days of old that typically would have meant a divine sacrifice. Sehanie Moonbow was not so cruel a mistress but to fear a deity was always a wise course of action no matter their intentions. He understood that the days of the dreamer were coming to an end. It was time to become the sorcerer, a title befitting an adult not a child. He bowed, ?Thank you Sytheer, your words speak truth beyond measure. I thank you for guiding me this night, and I shall not forget that the goddess has blessed me with a divine favor.? The cath shee stretched its great feline form, and without another word vanished before his eyes. He spent the rest of that night creating the most fantastic story thus far, an epic ending for an epic hero. That morning he told his mother the story of that great hero; he cried and accepted his place within the village. Jorn the dreamer died that day.