In an ancient time after the War of the Races pitted man, elf, and dwarf against the hordes of darkness, the last of the sorcerers of the Black Circle rises again. With his foul sorcery, a now one-hundred-and-eighty-year old, Malkaar, creates Brack, the Child of Darkness to assist him in his plan to conquer Erathyn. Determined to fi ght to the end, Goldwen, the elven wizard of the Council of Light, creates Malin, the Child of Light, to be a champion for the forces of good. As Goldwen steps down as Eldest to teach his pupil, another is waiting to take his place. But it is not long before Goldwen learns the new Council leader, Amberon, is secretly associating with Malkaar. As Brack becomes involved in a power struggle with Amberon, an elven king and his princess daughter arrive. Soon, Malin falls desperately in love with her, causing Brack to decide take her for himself. As a meeting ensues between all races on how to deal with Malkaar, Brack abducts the princess and Malin pursues him. But it is not until the two elven brothers fi nally face each other that the fate of the world is decided. Brothers of Darkness and Light is an epic fantasy tale set in a world long past in which forces of good battle the darkness that threatens to engulf them all.

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Brothers of Darkness and Light

By Jeff Thomson

Balboa Press

PROLOGUE, vii, 
CHAPTER I: The Darkness Returns, 1, 
CHAPTER II: The Council of Light, 21, 
CHAPTER III: Malor and Goldwen, 37, 
CHAPTER IV: The Balance of Magic, 58, 
CHAPTER V: Awakenings of Power, 71, 
CHAPTER VI: Willowen, 82, 
CHAPTER VII: The Testing, 98, 
CHAPTER VIII: Silveron and Darkmor, 120, 
CHAPTER IX: The Debate at Algol, 141, 
CHAPTER X: In the Forest, 157,

CHAPTER 1

The Darkness Returns

"His Majesty wishes us to rejoin our people. He believes that we should be one again before the return to Glindarion." The speaker was a tall Elf-lord clad in a shimmering white robe which had a silver and gold pattern worked upon it in Elven design. A circlet of gold was on his head, denoting his rank. In his hands he held a scroll, which he had been reading from. His face held no signs of age, seeming neither young nor old. His hair was like living gold, which fell to his waist. He looked up at the others around him. His name was Malor, the Lord of Oakdean.

Two women stood there; one young and beautiful, and with hair as long and as golden as his was, for she was his daughter, the Lady Elinor. Her dress was made of fine stuff like her father's robe, and she had eyes of the clearest blue, which sparkled with intelligence.

The other woman was older; although like Malor, her face was ageless and serene. She wore the brown robes of a healer, and the only ornament about her person was a small firestone hung from a leather cord around her neck. Her brown hair was long as well, but was plaited to keep it out of her way as she practised her craft. She was called Shelarindel.

One other stood there; the Elf-lord Nildoron. He was the King's messenger who had brought the scroll to Oakdean. He was dressed in forest green and wore a long riding cloak and tall boots. His hair was as brown as the healer's, and tied back from his face. He wore a golden torc about his neck, which was covered with High-Elven script, indicating that he was the King's messenger. He waited for Malor to speak again.

They were all tall and fell and fair to look upon, as all the Elves were. They had the pointed ears of their kind, and almond-shaped slanted eyes. Their cheekbones were high and rounded, in faces that were smooth and without blemish. Their voices were fair and musical.

They stood upon a balcony in the City of Oakdean, which lay on the Silvering River's banks. The city was made with the Shaping magic of the Elves from the trees of the forest, for they revered them and would cut no living wood. It was made up of many towers and halls, which looked like nothing so much as sculptures of ethereal beauty. Pinpoints of light flashed here and there as the rising sun picked out windows. The trees flowed together and formed the buildings; white was the overall colour, with the life-giving sap coursing through them. This gave the city the look of white marble with green veins; however, unlike that precious stone, it pulsed with a warm life of its own.

The river could be heard flowing below them with an unceasing and ever-changing music. The sound of birds rang across the air. All was peaceful and tranquil. The morning sun was rising through the mist.

The sounds of harp and Elven pipes was heard from within. The group had come from the banqueting hall to discuss the message in private. It was early Spring, and they had been breaking their fast when Nildoron had arrived.

"Perhaps it is time, Malor," said Shelarindel. "We have dwelled here for many years, and all know that we shall go back home soon. The Age of Magic is coming to a close, and this world will belong to Men."

The Lord of Oakdean rolled up the scroll and handed it back to Nildoron. A distasteful look came upon his face.

"It is because of Men that we live here apart from our people, and when we are gone, this world will fall into chaos and disorder, for Men have no idea of the true nature of things; they are greedy and weak, each lusting after his brother's possessions. They cannot control their emotions, and grasp land and cut down the forests needlessly for their farms. Wherever Man goes, he destroys." He turned to look out across the river, thinking of better times. "They are like children."

"In their innocence, children sometimes do wicked things," offered Shelarindel.

Malor turned to look at her. "They are not innocent. The Dark One was a Man. He stole the secrets from our wizards at Algol and turned them against us. It was because of him that the War of the Races came about. It was because of him that many died." Including my wife, he thought.

Elinor saw the brief pain in his face and stared down at the floor, she did not want to meet his eyes. Death to the immortal Elves was indeed a bitter thing.

The healer shook her head. "Not all Men are evil. There is good and bad in all races. You cannot say that all Men are the same, even as all Elves are not the same."

Elinor came forward. "It is true, Father. I have met Men and Dwarves, and they are as different to each other as we are. Some are noble and good, others bad."

He was about to reply when Nildoron spoke.

"The King has not sent me to speak of Men, my lord. He asks only that you will rejoin us. The sundering of our people lies heavily upon his mind, and he wishes us to be one again." He knew that it would not be easy to persuade Malor. The Elves of Oakdean had remained apart from the Elven kingdom for a long time, and Nildoron knew of Malor's stubbornness.

Ignoring Nildoron, Malor spoke to Elinor.

"I know of the ways of Men, daughter. I fought by their side in the War. I have seen first-hand what they are like. Sometimes when we defeated the enemy and re-took a city, they robbed from the dead and quarrelled amongst themselves over the spoils."

"That does not mean that they are all bad, Father. The Men who fought to destroy the Dark One and free Erathyn were good Men. The Union of Races had good people; Elves and Dwarves and Men."

Lord Nildoron interjected. "There is another matter, my lord."

Exasperation showed on Malor's face. His daughter was becoming more and more outspoken as the days went by. He addressed Nildoron.

"Yes?" he asked.

The messenger took a deep breath. This would be difficult, but it was the King's order, and Lord Nildoron was pledged to do the King's will. "His Majesty also wishes that you and your brother be reconciled."

Silence fell. The little group waited for Malor's reaction.

"I have no brother," he said grimly.

Shelarindel began, "But Goldwen—"

"Speak not to me of him. He received what he desired; to be the Eldest. That means more to him than I do." His face was like a stone.

"That is not true, Father," said Elinor.

The Lord of Oakdean turned to her. "Leave us, daughter," he said sternly.

Elinor looked at Shelarindel, who shook her head slightly. Elinor looked upon her as a mother, and it was clear that she did not wish the maiden to defy her father. Elinor bowed, and left the balcony.

Lord Malor watched her depart. He was embarrassed that Elinor had caused a scene in front of the King's messenger. "I apologize, my lord," he said to Lord Nildoron. "My daughter is headstrong, and she must learn her place."

"I understand, my lord. She has strong feelings for—"

Malor held up his hand in a gesture of silence.

"Now it is I who...

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