Aelen Stratos and the Art of Adventuring

“Tell me who you are.”

Her voice was light and airy and echoed as if it came from far away, yet there was deep power there.

“My name is Aelen Stratos, Lady Cumulus.” Aelen bowed deeply, but even when it was complete he did not raise his eyes. When dealing with the Elemental Lords, it was best to be cautious and courteous.

“Who are you?” Her voice came again.

Aelen squinted against the silvery light that threatened to blind him, even with downcast eyes, and smiled.

“My father was Aeros Strathar, one of the finest duelists of the Eladrin Courts. He was acknowledged by Lord Aspen himself. My mother was a duelist herself, Onera Telos. Her patron was Lord Butterfly.” Aelen waited, but the only sound was the hushing wind and music so faint it may have been imagined.

“Though each of my parents were famous in their own right, they had never performed together. My Father performed mostly in the House of Summer, while my mother favored the Skylands. But it was at the Wildfaire that they met and fought for the first time. They dueled, but neither could win. There is a poem that says that it lasted for three days and three nights, but my parents said that it was only nine hours. But still neither could win over the other.”

“It was the first draw to be declared in three hundred years and a great feast was held. They became fierce rivals, performing blade dances and duels, seeking to out-perform each other. Where one won favor, the other would soon arrive to attempt to outshine the other. Naturally, they fell in love.”

“Yes,” Said the Elemental Lady, but she said nothing more.

“They married after the traditional hundred-year courtship, but their love was such that I was born on the twenty-second year. They gifted me with my first blade after my first year and they moved my infant hands in all of the blade dances they knew. I was raised as a sword-artist.”

Aelen felt Lady Cumulus’ gaze on him and waited for her, watching the reflection of the indoor clouds in the polished floor. “Yes,” she said.

Aelen waited three heartbeats, then continued. “When I was ninety-nine, my father was killed during a duel. The man, Destar Ulirsh, apologized and professed that it was an accident. Yet, as duels are art to us, and by custom no blood is shed, my mother did not believe him. Destar was a great rival of my father’s and his jealousy was growing famous.”

“My mother swore a pact with you, Lady Cumulus, and became a warlock. She hunted down Destar and confronted him. She killed him. But because his death was not done according to custom, and was not an accident, she was banished from the Eldarin Courts. She brought me into exile with her, and continued to serve you until her death in your service.”

“I remember Onera,” Lady Cumulus whispered in a voice like rain. “Who are you, Aelen?”

The Eladrin youth smiled again and dared raise his eyes as far as the misty hem of the Elemental Lady’s gown. “I am an artist, Great Lady. I have performed in the Eladrin Courts all across the Feywild. I seek a patron, so that I can fulfill my potential.

“Lady Cumulus, I have a great performance… I will go to the Unwild and perform it in your name. It would be a great honor.”

“Let me see your face, Aelen.” He raised his eyes slowly, feeling her light fall on his face. “Take my token.”

Aelen reached out and accepted her gift. Her fingers brushed his lightly as he took it, a long scarf of wispy cloud-silk. He looped it carefully around his neck and bowed very deeply again. When he raised his eyes, the court of Lady Cumulus was gone and Aelen stood in a dense thicket. A white mist was retreating into the wood. The youth looked up and saw a silver cloud high over head. He drew his swords and crossed them in front of his face, saluting her.

The Unwild was near; a place known to the Eldarin, but where few had business. Ahead, the forest stretched out, but soon enough there would be a road. And then Aelen Stratos would attempt what no other artist had before…an unprecedented performance!