Evaliir Hall

The Evaliir Hall Estate perched on a small rise surrounded by row upon row of grape vines drenched in the golden afternoon sun of Leafsturn. The main house of the Estate had been erected some two hundred years past during the recovery of war-torn Eystlund. Visitors were often awestruck upon their arrival to this home which had been constructed to meet the needs of a knight. While many a knight and lesser lord might construct a practical, defensible building to house their family and retainers, a tower home perhaps, Evaliir Hall was as far in the opposite direction as could be. The exterior was draped in a brilliant green granite trimmed in polished white marble. Intricate carvings and detail adorned every surface, including the slate roof over the third story where all manner of fanciful gargoyles perched at the eves. Meticulously groomed pathways meandered through the grounds making stops at statues, fountains, and private gardens as well as the hand-full of auxiliary buildings nestled into the property.

Being a southern kingdom, Eystlund never really had cold, winter weather but, the end of the year did bring about cooler temperatures and an extended harvest period. Throughout Wolfmoon and Leafsturn Evaliir Hall would be bursting with servants. The great hall could sit nearly a hundred people and would double as sleeping quarters during these autumn months while the army of workers descended upon the grape vines, picking them clean of fruit and storing it in the winery cellars. The climate was ideal for this purpose, plenty of rain and sun with mild temperatures. The vineyard was nearly as old as the home which watched over it from the hill and had been planted with a clear purpose. The current stewards of the land held to the original plan and, in turn, continued to profit as had their ancestors before.

This business of picking grapes and transporting them in baskets and carts back to the cellar was tiresome and boring work though when a person was only ten years old. This was why young Aaliyah and her seasonal friends had slipped off to the north of the property, opposite the vineyard, and into the small grove of peach trees which sometimes supplemented the wine production. The four children had been in the orchard for much of the day, thinking themselves quite clever at having eluded the work taking place on the other side of the property. It was well past midday when they began running out of games to play and boredom set in. Of the four, Aaliyah was the only girl; a willowy thing with sharp facial features and striking green eyes topped with waves of hair shining like beaten copper. Two of the boys were brothers, Chett a scrawny lad of an age with Aaliyah and Robin who was about to reach his thirteenth name day. Both shared dark, unkempt hair and eyes like coal with bronze skin ripened by a lifetime out in the sun. The last of their band was Warren, who was also the girl’s age. His straw blonde hair hung near his shoulders and blue eyes seemed to drink in his environment, he was a bit more quiet and inquisitive than the other two but, no more high born. The boys were all sons to field hands and would likely take on the work of their parents in time. This did not faze Aaliyah though, she generally had no one to play with so, having interaction with anybody outside of the house staff and her aging hound was sheer enjoyment for the lass. Eventually the boys found some fallen branches. As would happen with boys, they began hacking at one-another, playing at knights. Never one to be left out, Aaliyah found her own “sword” and happily jumped into the melee.

As the game wore on, the children darted from tree to tree, waving their imagined steel at one-another until they happened upon a much more secluded area on the grounds. To the far north west edge of the property, the small peach grove opened out to an untamed glade overlooking the wild bosk known to Aaliyah as Twilight Dell though, her father once told her it had another name long ago. The glade and small forest of Aspens and Fir drifted lazily down hill from the high ground of the estate yet, hard against the edge of the orchard, a terraced garden was cut into earth. Broad steps led down past two tiers of long abandoned flower beds which were now home to creeping vines and twisted, wild brambles, to an oval of large flagstones. Up against the hill perched several large marble columns which had likely supported the roof of a pavilion once. Now the weather worn stone was home to a great mass of deep purple morning glory's, swaying gently in the breeze and drinking up the afternoon sunlight. Flanking the columns stood several statues in various poses. A woman sitting in a chair examined something in her hand with a strange device to her eye, another character, short and broad with a long braid down her back held a mug aloft in toast, a dangerous looking wolf sat silently, surveying the overgrown pavers. It was a strange grouping; others included a skinny old man in what appeared to be his nightclothes, a fierce looking man with a thick beard and long braided hair brandished a heavy axe, a well armed warrior in hard worn traveling clothes took aim with a long bow and, possibly the most impressive, a monstrous man in heavy plate armor leaning on the hilt of a two-handed sword. Rounding out the group, a statue of a woman was placed on the far side of the small plaza, lounging on a bench as if eating grapes and admiring the western sky while ivy crept thick around the legs of the bench making her seem adrift in a sea of green leaves.

Aaliyah had visited this area on only a few occasions when she felt especially adventurous. It was an old place that seemed to hold a bit of sadness and she lingered a few steps up from the terrace. The other children did not hold her same misgivings though, scurrying down the weed choked steps to the open landing below. The girl followed hesitantly, if only to keep the boys from causing trouble. She had never been forbidden to explore any part of the estate but, something in the pit of her stomach told her this was a special place that should be honored and protected. The boys ran around, weaving through the columns and exploring the statues, eventually stopping before the giant in plate armor.

“I wonder who that was.” Chett commented, awe clear in his voice as he craned his neck to look up at the marble giant looming over him.

“I bet he was some great knight if they made a statue of him.” Warren chimed in, brushing his straw colored hair out of his eyes for a better look.

“He sure was an ugly knight if that’s what he were.” Robin concluded. “I bet he never could save a fair maid; she would just run away!”

Mean spirited or no, Aaliyah could not argue the truth of the statement. The man was hulking, standing at least 20 hands tall or more, and wore no helmet, exposing his broad brow, flat nose and over-large chin complete with lower cuspids protruding over his top lip. Deep-set, brooding eyes gazed out over the forest beyond.

“He could sure skin you easy as can be!” Chided Chett, a mischievous smile on his lips.

“Not me.” Robin, the oldest rebuked. “I’m the Black Bull!” he declared pulling himself up as tall as he could and puffing out his chest. “I’ll best all challengers!”

Not to be left out, Chett jumped in brandishing his stick-sword. “Oh yea, you cannot stand against Sir Josef, The Splinter-Shield!”

Warren swung his stick with a flourish and smiled slyly as he dubbed himself. “I am The Nightwalker! Stand aside you tourney knights!”

The other boys hooted in mirth at the choice. “The Nightwalker?” Robin snorted. “He’s just a legend! That don’t count.”

Dutifully, Chett added to his brothers’ comments. “What would The Nightwalker do to a pair o’ knights in plate anyway? Would he shoot them with his tiny elf-bow or drink ‘imself into the gutter as they charged ‘im?” Chett snickered at his jab and Robin laughed outright.

The blond boy looked a bit crestfallen standing there dumbly, unsure what to say to that. Aaliyah felt anger boiling up inside of her. The day was going so well and now these petty boys had to go and ruin it all. Beside that, the brothers were wrong, she knew in her bones they were wrong. She had heard many stories told of The Nightwalker as he was known to many, a roguish elf who had lived many hundreds of years past. A tourney knight he had never been but he had been a knight of Eystlund and a deadly one at that. No longer able to hold her rising anger, the copper haired girl gathered herself up on the steps and opened her mouth to shout down the ignorant brothers.

A voice cracked like a whip above the children’s heads and it was not Aaliyah’s. “What’s this now?! What are you children doing here?”

Aaliyah knew the voice at once and knew the hard edged tone. She turned slowly yet, needn’t look to know that her mother stood upon the hill above them. Despite her plain dress and the grape-stained apron she wore, the woman standing above the children held a regal air and had an exotic look. Long copper hair that matched Aaliyah’s flowed down her back in many braids, but her green eyes were more almond shaped and her ears had an unusual chiseled form. For a woman of middle age she barely wore a hint of wrinkles. She stood there a moment with her hands planted on her hips, expectant.

Aaliyah was searching for a proper response when Robin found some courage and half turned to the matron of the estate hiding his stick behind him in the process, he confessed. “We was just playing m’lady. We weren’t looking for no trouble.”

“I see this. Unfortunately, you all had responsibilities today did you not?” Aaliyah’s mother’s gaze fell upon her, seeming to bore into her soul. The four of them wilted beneath the scrutiny, wondering what type of punishment might befall them. “it seems to me that the lot of you need to be taught some lessons. We shall get to that just as soon as supper is over. Now, drop those sticks and come along. It is time to get cleaned up.” With that, her mother turned and strode away. The children exchanged glances, wondering what these ‘lessons’ might entail before abandoning their pretend steel and scampering up the steps leading back to the manor.

The evening meal consisted of a thick venison stew served with bread fresh from the ovens. The great hall was a raucous scene of seasonal workers at long tables, laughing and socializing as they took their evening meal. This was the time for much needed relaxation for the common folk and the mood in the room reflected the melting away of the day’s stress. Within the kitchen, the Steele family took their meal, quietly removed from commotion of the great hall. In truth this was not uncommon, the hall had been designed for grand and elaborate dinner parties but, the sheer size of it made casual dining an uncomfortable affair. Unless an event was being held or, the workers were in attendance, the family at Evaliir Hall took their meals with the cook and their small staff within the cozy warmth of the kitchen.

This evening, they took three guests to their table making the accommodations even more snug than usual. Robin, Chett, and Warren sat quietly, eyes intent on their stew while Aaliyah’s mother and father chatted idly regarding the autumn harvest and the expected yield this season. Aaliyah sat anxiously, nibbling at the bread and occasionally stirring the stew, her stomach in too much upheaval to be hungry. Occasionally she would steal a glance at one of the boys who only seemed to have questioning looks in their eyes. She had no answers so, she went back to picking at her meal which now was cold. After a what seemed an eternity, the table was cleared and, the moment Aaliyah had dreaded was upon them. She just knew that her father was about to dole out their ‘lesson’. He was a tall man and strongly built with a disciplined demeanor. Mother said he had once been a squire before they married and he took up tending grapes instead. It was always father who enforced the rules so, it was quite a surprise when he stood and took his leave of them. The maid, the cook, and the steward also found they had other tasks awaiting them and took their leave as well leaving just the four children and her mother sitting at the table.

“Well, it seems you four didn’t have much of an appetite this evening. I would have expected you to be ravenous after your adventures.” Her mother said matter of factually, giving no hint on what might lie ahead.

Aaliyah felt obligated to defend them somehow and tried to put conviction in her voice though, it quavered regardless. “I think we are all just too tired to eat mother, it has been a long day.”

The others seemed happy for this and nodded their agreement, no doubt hoping for a quick end to this so they could scurry off to their own parents.

“I agree.” Said Lady Steele. “Let us get on with your lesson so you can all be rested and ready for morning.” She stood and gestured to the servant’s door leading out of the kitchen. “I believe my daughter knows the way out to the gallery. Lead on Aaliyah my dear.”

The gallery? The girl thought. What could be waiting in the gallery? Her mind racing, Aaliyah rose from her seat and skirted around her mother hesitantly, making her way for the door with leaden feet. The boys all rose slowly and followed, worry stamped plain on their faces.

The gallery wrapped around three sides of a large courtyard nestled in the center of the building. The fourth side of the courtyard adjoined the great hall. When the boys came into the first of the long corridors their breath caught. Paintings, sculptures, and tapestries lined the walls while intricately woven rugs with strange runes imprinted on them covered the polished marble floors. Crystalline sconces held tall candles to light the gallery. Aaliyah felt her chest swell at the boy’s reaction, she knew that her family's collection was a source of pride to her parents.

Her mother came in hard on their heels. “Around the corner please, take us down to the family portraits.”

The family portraits? This punishment was becoming more bizarre by the moment. The boys gave her questioning looks but, she could only shrug and lead them down the corridor obediently. The courtyard was a large rectangle and the family portraits hung at the center of the long corridor directly across from the great hall. Aaliyah’s mother had told her this was so that their family could always have a prominent view of the festivities here which, often spilled out into the courtyard. Dozens of large portraits hung from the gallery wall in heavy, ornate frames, staring across the room and out the courtyard windows at the birds and butterflies flitting about the manicured gardens in the late afternoon glow.

Lady Addison stepped before the paintings of herself and her husband, Nicholas Steele. Holding a cool expression, the lady of the house wasted no time in delivering the lesson. “You four managed to shirk your responsibility today and ventured into a very special place on the property. You have no doubt been wondering what these ‘lessons’ are and what torment it will bring you.” A slight smile touched her lips as she paused for effect. “This is good although, I am sure it is not going to be as you suspect.”

Lady Steele strode slowly up and down the line of paintings, studying them quietly as the children stood fidgeting in uncomfortable silence. She stopped abruptly in front of her daughter. “This lesson is for you three boys, that you might better understand some of the facts from history but, Aalyiah, this is also a long overdue lesson for you as well. Your father and I have failed to teach you your family’s place in the world.” Then the lesson began in earnest. “We bear the name Steele and we are descendant from Sir Dain Steele, who served honorably with The Duke of Blackfields in his many military campaigns.” Addison gestured gracefully to the painting of a lively looking man in plate armor standing next to a courser and leaning on a lance tipped with a fluttering banner. A great helm rested at his feet and flinty grey eyes watched them above a drooping black mustache and smartly trimmed beard. “Sir Dain was Aalyiah’s great, great, grandfather on her father’s side and was a magnificent knight in his own right.”

The boys jaws were agape and Aalyiah felt a bit taken aback, she had known some of their lineage on her father’s side but, never understood how close they might have been to the future King of Eystlund. Knowing that she now had the children’s full attention, Addison continued, moving a few paces down the gallery. “There is little question of the ability of the Steele line and, nobody can doubt their loyalty and service to this kingdom. Many of the faces upon this wall were strong and valiant knights in service to the King.” With a nod of her copper haired head, she indicated the next portrait. “Do you know this picture Aalyiah?”

The girl peered long and hard at the woman in the painting. Her skin was like porcelain, framed in thick black curls. The most perfect smile touched her lips and sky blue eyes twinkled with life. In the painting, the woman was spinning a pirouette, her long gown swirling about her bare feet. The scene had taken place on an oval shaped terrace overlooking a small valley.

She was still turning the puzzle over in her mind when Warren interrupted her thought. “It’s the garden we were in!”

“Ahh, very astute young man.” Addison nodded in agreement. “But, who is she?”

After a long silence with no answer, Lady Steele turned to her daughter. “This is your grandmother, my own mother, Ellora Beckett. She was the youngest grand daughter of Baron Rowan Beckett.”

“We never knew you was royalty m’lady.” Robin bowed his head seeming unsure if he should fall to his knees or remain standing. Chett and Warren exchanged glances and began to bow also.

“Boys, stop.” Addison’s smirk was unarming. “We are no more royal than you are. Our family as it stands is far outside of the lordships and knighthoods who make up the great houses of Eystlund.” The young men straightened in embarrassment, Robin was turning scarlet and looking desperately for an escape.

Lady Steele obliged him. “This is not to brag, and I am not attempting to make fools of anyone. You shall soon see my point I think.” Addison took two large steps backward revealing the next portrait in line. “This is why you were brought here.” Her tone was solemn and her voice was low.

The four children gazed upon the portrait in the frame. Though none of them had ever seen one, they all knew immediately that they were looking upon an elf, for only an elf could have such delicate features, such sharp eyes and high cheek bones, the pointed ears poking out through long hair the color of a newly minted penny. The elf posed in profile with a tall goblet in hand, his smile was easy and sincere and emerald eyes twinkled with mischief. Aalyiah had been in the gallery dozens of times, had looked at all of these paintings and yet, she felt as if she were looking at this one for the first time. A small plaque fastened to the bottom edge of the frame read: Sir Ademar Helyanwë. She had never considered who all of these faces were and how they related to her family history. Suddenly, she had a great urge to know more.

“Mother, who was this man?”

“You mean, who is this man? My dear, this is my father, your grandfather, Sir Ademar Helyanwë.” Lady Steele stood silently for a moment allowing the children to process what she had said.

“Helyanwë- That name sounds familiar but, I don’t remember mother. Your father was a knight; an elf-” Aalyiah was just beginning to put together the pieces of this puzzle and she had many and more questions.

“Is a knight, and one of some renown. I want to show you something. All of you, follow me.”

Aalyiah glanced about at her companions who all seemed as surprised as her before turning to hurry after her mother as her long strides carried her quickly out of the gallery. In a few moments, the small group emerged from the north side of the building on a small stoop in the lengthening shadows of the fading afternoon sunlight.

“Quickly now.” Her mother bade them as she set off across the lawn toward the peach grove. Another uncomfortable look was shared by the children before they resumed their march.

Descending the old, stone stairs to the secluded plaza again, Aalyiah’s breath caught. The space was ablaze in golden light as the sun hung low in the west. The marble statues glowed orange and gold as if from some divine power. The morning glories draping the ancient columns of the pavilion were closing up for the evening and crickets chirped deep in the brambles. Down in Twilight Dell, birds were circling and settling in to roost for the night, frogs croaked, and the night animals began to stir on the forest floor. It was a strange paradox where part of the world seemed to be settling in for the night while the garden they stood within was bathed in the most amazing, warm light, the last rays of the day. It was a magical sensation. Stealing a glance at her companions, she realized that the feeling was universal, they were all standing still, drinking in the experience.

“This plaza was built by your grandfather Aalyiah.” Addison’s voice was soft, a whisper on the evening breeze. “He came here often in the evening to remember and reflect. This was his sanctuary, where he could remember the past and honor those who were lost.”

The girl was beginning to understand the sense of sadness about this place, starting to understand what the statues might be.

“Those pillars used to hold up a roof under which your grandfather would sit and pray quietly to Sanastarus while sharing a drink with his old friends.”

“Begging your pardon m’lady but, your father kept some strange company.” Robin looked almost as surprised by his comment as everyone else. His hand snapped over his mouth as if that might prevent any more foolish words from spilling out.

Addison’s eyes spoke of mischief when she favored them with a smile. “Why yes, young man, my father did have rather, unusual companions. Of course, three laborers sons running about with a high born girl is also a bit strange. That is the essence of this lesson today. Think on your comments earlier. You thought that The Nightwalker was a legend, a fabrication, or perhaps real but, weak and craven. I will teach you some history today.”

She waved to the statues before them. “These were Sir Ademar’s companions through his youth. Those who befriended him, fought with him, often even died next to him. For a time, he abandoned his family name for reasons even I do not know, and used an alias: Nightwalker.” Lady Steele paused a moment to revel in the reaction of the four children. Robin, the oldest, was changing increasingly brighter shades of red, scanning the ground for a rock to hide beneath. His brother, Chett was abashed, his mouth working a silent apology for his earlier actions. Warren, the young boy who had brought up ‘The Nightwalker’ initially, stood a little taller, smiling at the obvious discomfort of his peers. Her daughter’s reaction was the greatest of them all. Addison watched as the pieces finally fell into place in Aalyiah’s mind and the realization of her grandfather’s true identity became clear. An expression of awe was stamped on her face but her green eyes burned with excitement and questions.

“There are many and more things I could tell you about my father. We could sit here in this garden for days and days and, I would still not have told you all there is to tell.” Lady Steele said. “I will give you the condensed version.”

And so she did, telling the children of how her father had adventured in the frozen lands of Eldridge before traveling all the way across the world to help King Darius I in war and, being knighted for it in the process. How he continued to serve Eystlund for a while before deciding to set off on a quest for an artifact, a sword the elves of Kemmermere called Est’ Peroleth, deep in the swamps of the Dodanna Freelands. She told them of how her father put his quest aside and built the estate that their family now looked after, naming it Evaliir Hall or, The Hall of Twilight Song as it translated from elvish. She even told the sad tale of how her mother, a human woman, had passed away of old age while Sir Ademar remained young. Heartbroken, the garden they stood in was built so he could reminisce the past.

Unable to contain her questions any longer, Aalyiah broke into her mother’s tale. “If grandfather is still alive, where is he now?”

A somber smile came to her mother’s face. “Why he’s out adventuring again. Your grandfather is not one to stay in place long. He traveled back to Eldridge.”

Aalyiah scrunched up her face in confusion. “Why would he want to go there?”

“Sometimes that which we believe will bring us the greatest happiness fails to deliver on that promise. And, sometimes a place calls to us in an unexpected way. There are times when a distraction is needed to help us through life and other times when we need to revisit our past to truly make us feel whole again. I think, he is trying to make himself whole again. He will return some day and you will meet him. Perhaps your new friends will even be able to make his acquaintance.”

The children were all smiling then, at the prospect of meeting someone whom they had thought was a myth just this morning.

“Now,” Addison broke in as the rim of the sun disappeared behind the trees. “I hope you have all learned the pitfalls of believing every tale and story you might hear.” She was standing near the bench and the statue of her mother, Ellora, as she regarded the boys and her daughter. They were bobbing their heads in agreement. “Good.” She said, pointing to the far side of the terrace. “Tomorrow, after you have had your morning meal, you will return to this place and begin restoring it to it’s former state.” At the edge of the flagstone oval sat a wheelbarrow full of gardening tools. Several groans arose from her young workers. “That is your punishment for evading your real duties today. I expect that by the week’s end, this garden will be presentable for Sir Ademar on his return. Now, it is time we return to the hall, you don’t want to be stumbling back in the dark.” With that she turned and left.

The boys followed quickly behind but Aalyiah remained. Walking to the stone bench, she gazed at the image of her grandmother wrought in fine white marble. Down at the edge of the bosk fireflies blinked in and out of sight and frogs croaked in the gathering darkness. The first of the evening stars were just visible in the deepening blue sky where a half moon hung low in the scattered clouds. A dragonfly flashed into view and perched on the outstretched hand of Ellora Beckett’s statue. There it sat, flexing it’s silvery wings, seemingly watching the girl as she stared back at it. For an instant she felt some sort of connection to the insect. For just a moment, she could almost hear it’s thoughts. Just as quickly though, the feeling was gone and so too was the dragonfly. With much to think about, the girl turned slowly from the garden and began her return to the house. It would be a long day tomorrow, she was going to need her rest and, with some luck, she could sneak a snack out of the kitchen before everyone was settled in for the night...