The Coral Kingdom - Douglas Niles [20]
"Ah, welcome, my child, welcome!" Erashanoor waved absently. The sage sat in his high-backed leather chair, holding a long-stemmed pipe in his hand and leaning forward, his posture intent upon Pallarynd. The Thy-Tach priest, his face streaked by tears, looked down as Brigit joined them in a third chair.
"The Thy-Tach have undergone an incredible ordeal," explained the sage, puffing absently and sending clouds of smoke into the air over his head. Smoking was a virtually unknown practice among the Llewyrr and would not have been tolerated in closed quarters from anyone less influential than the elder sage. Unlike many of her people, however, Brigit had always enjoyed the burnt-almond smell of Erashanoor's blended herbs.
"Until we encountered you yesterday," Pallarynd said to Brigit, his composure recovered, "we weren't even sure we would survive. Not just from the threat of the beast, but from the flight through the paths of ether."
"I believe they were attacked by Ityak-Ortheel," explained Erashanoor. "The one called 'Elf-Eater.' The monster has plagued our race throughout known history. Barely a century passes wherein a village or community does not feel its wrathful attack, and this attack always drives the survivors to the Fey-Alamtine. No means of defeating the Elf-Eater has ever been discovered."
"Is that creature the reason the gate was constructed?" asked Pallarynd.
"No-at least, not the only reason." Erashanoor took several pensive puffs on his pipe, leaning back in his chair and collecting his thoughts like scribbled notes scattered across a messy desk.
"You see, the destiny of our race is one of epic greatness, but also finite dimension," he began. "We live longer than the humans, or any other populous and-allegedly-civilized race. Our artists create the most glorious sculptures, our musicians script the most beautiful songs-even our weaponsmiths make the finest sword steel!"
Brigit knew of a dwarf or two who would disagree with the last statement, but she kept the notion private as the sage continued with a sigh.
"The price of our longevity, our greatness, is that our numbers shall ever remain small. If we wage war against a human realm, their numbers are replenished after a few generations. We elves, however, never recover from such conflicts.
"And this limitation is coupled with another certainty: Despite our best efforts, humans and other lesser creatures who border elven lands will eventually covet those lands. It is the way of the short-lived ones to employ hasty means, such as violence, to accomplish their goals. Too, many of them are propelled by gods of evil, or the simple pressures of growing population. They breed like rabbits, these humans," Erashanoor noted with a disgusted shake of his head. He paused to puff a few smoke rings, his narrow face creased into a scowl. He nodded to himself before he resumed.
"This is why Evermeet is so well protected. That island, the eternal elvenhome, will provide a land for our peoples that will last as long as the Realms themselves. It is guarded by wards and barriers both magical and mundane, protection against approach by the legions of creatures who threaten us; For that reason, the passages by which even we elves can approach the great island are strictly limited."
"Limited to one route only-the Fey-Alamtine," Brigit interjected.
"The reason Synnoria must remain inviolate," Erashanoor quickly explained, "is that we are the only gate to Evermeet. This is why you must bring the Alamtine triangle with you when you enter the gate, and why someone must always remain behind, to see that nothing follows when the Fey-Alamtine closes."
"That was a near thing," noted Pallarynd. "This 'Elf-Eater,' I believe you called it, reached after me as we departed. It seemed to seek the triangle. The tentacle touched it and tried to pull it from my grasp."
"It is a very good thing for all of us that it