Part I:

The Ride of the Elder King

And lo, the anger of Sylren the king was unleashed, for the theft of the great gems of his son. All this, as gifts and refreshments, and other appeasing things, came crawling to the gates of the silver city from the conciliatory hands of the Eutunaz. They were sent by the lord of the giants, bound in fair words and heavy seal, to buy silence with sweetness; for Nidgram knew well what crime had been committed in the home of the folk, for his complicity was clearly known and he would have it pass as though it were no more than a quarrel of children or a wrong to be made right easily.

But Lonrach would not swallow it.

And it is said that not a day passed since the taking of the gems of Galerain, there began a low rush from the wind and the birds: arising first like a whisper above the walls and homes of the city, a thin and doubtful sound, as the wind passed through the winding streets, a groan was heard, blanketing the city in a new mist of fresh spun woe. Those Men, few in number, who remained in the city ceased their speaking; women stilled their hands as the hearth fires faltered and the city went cold. Then whisper grew; climbing high beyond the lowland like smoke, wound through alleys and along the walk to the royal hill, and suddenly it was no song of any reason, but a raucous cry that buried itself in bone, and burrowed into the mind.

At this, and the sight of the bribery cast before him by the make of giant hands, the wrath of Lonrach sparked true, and before all there before him, he began to cry aloud in a shrill and ferocious voice.

"By young blood turned black, by the very earth which has become the land of our adoption, I so say. A black curse upon him, Nidgram Lieweaver, Nidgram, foe of the blood within my veins. May any haven deny him and cast him away, may any joy be fleeting and ever far, and let the image of my face bring woe to his very soul. For a debt of honor is owed and shall be repaid, by the power of the land, the wind, and blood, let this curse be bound."

And those who stood before their king whispered forth a most terrible song, of the ills of the land and the woes of the people. For the gems were gone, and the city's light seemed diminished and small. So too did Lonrach's light seem faded, as a grim rage was upon his face, and upon the hands were once things were held gentle, now seemed harder, sterner, calloused by his brewing anger. Doom was upon the land then, for the actions of Nidgram, the whip-master of the Eutunaz, had unleashed a new horror upon the land.

And upon the first light of day, none found the king, for in the night he departed. The stablemasters saw that the king's horse Teluteilin was gone, and though the whole of the king’s guard was roused, none could catch the king. He had long since left the silver city, passed beneath the unchained gate, and beyond the kingly road which met its end upon the crossing of the stream that Men called Kalsaia.

With a thirsting fury, the king rode toward the rising sun, to the lands of the barrows and bones, to the halls of Nidgram King, to Balengar. He did not rest at night, for his soul was too seared for sleep to take ahold of him. Any honor or regality burned away, set aside, to grip in two the sword with which he intended to slay his foe. No longer could he bound, as he appeared like some war god of old. His wroth could not be encased nor hidden and shone out like a terrible flame. His eyes cast a faint glow and seemed to dazzle with starlight, and he seemed twenty feet tall, clad in the shimmering silver ringmail of splendorous Huldra making. His very visage was illuminated in some manner of spell, and a pale doom was about him in that time. For lo, the steel hooves of Teluteilin trailed fire, as the king went on the long ride east, and death followed after him.

Under the sky of fair Erailna's light, curses and screams of all kinds were heard, damning all who came to the mind of the king. The Elder King had shed his fear and now had come upon the east road as fear made manifest. The king rode to ruin, his fate lay to the east, where he had dared not to tread. But now his way was different, and as he rode by, the birds and the wind called out to him, wishing him on as he continued his maddening pace. For as he approached, far away spied the giant king, and he knew a new bout of fear in his heart. For the stranger king whom he had seen in dream and memory had come to him, rage in the firmament of his eyes, and his silver hair shone out like a new moon amidst the earth.

The king gripped Laegran at his side, his knuckles turned white upon the mirrored image of the steel's blade; his visage was terrible and grim. Just as the wickedness of the ironcrowned had come, the foe of silver, one who in song and memory they would forever remember; thundered east at a pace madder than madness. The stranger king of the west, of that beat iron crown, had come, and he would not leave until blood was spilled.

Part II:

The Duel of the Kings

And upon the terrible black tower, he came to Balengar, to the house of lies.

"See now, all here who breathe free air hear, see now before you stands Lonrach, sword by the sea. By the sea, there did you take that which was not granted to thee, that which thou did not conceive. So, where then is the thief in the night, by which hidden door did the king of cowards slink back to his pit? Will he not come out from underhill? Will he only employ cutthroats to steal from me in the night?"

And at his last breath, he was heard shouting from before the cusp of that doomed pit. There in the treacherous halls of Balengar lay the slumbering king, and he heard well the call from beyond his walls. And there to saw the thegns of Balengar, at watch and keeping their lord's peace upon his own lands.

And at once, from the deep, all manner of beasts came from the smoking cusp of the fortress, gnarling teeth and enflaming the king further. They came in the appearance of great hounds, wolves of the enemy with black, beaten fur, teeth white as new fallen snow, and their eyes all the colors of the earth. Yet they stood little match for him, and only came to enlarge his fury, and he slew the hounds of Nidgram, which had come before him; he threw upon the parapets their corpses, and their stench rose up the walls of Balengar and gagged those along the black tower.

And then came the hollowed masters of war, the great thegns of Balengar. Eirnan the White was there, the high captain of the fortress who strode before Lonrach with his great ax, and Thered the Strong was beside him, and atop the same parapets was Ranorn, the voice of her master Nidgram, and in whose very hands had grasped the gems stolen from Tirmagall and with whose wrath, the Iarsma and the Kirath were thrown down. There above, she looked down upon the stranger king, and she began her song of woe and cursed him with her harsh voice.

"For whom do the white king's steps toll?

Come now beside his wall of doom,

Here his sword shall remain,

Broken and a ruin beneath giant make.

But the king gazed high and saw her, and he remembered her face, and he said aloud,

"Hail, Cuthlac! If your master shall not come before me, then I may scale these very walls and compensate wounded honor with thy blood! So, if the maiden of lies will sing no more, then she may be useful and bring him to me!"

With their two great axes, Eirnan and Thered blocked the way of the king, and he came to brew in a tumult, as Ranorn disappeared below, to fetch the king of the Eutunaz. And at the sounding of a great horn, Eirnan the high captain, and Thered retreated behind the great black gate of Aehnagen and disappeared into mist and shadow.

And as thunder came, there he was, the great king of the giants, lord of the black tower, the enchaining, the Ironcrowned, the bringer of woe, the scourge of the west, the invincible, son of Krónaðr the first and the heir of the Dawn. Wide was his walk, and proud in stride he came, for before all he showed no fear, no trepidation as he processed to where the stranger king stood. Before the Huldra king, he was as Tarlun walking, his shadowed armor gleaming with opal and scarlet, gemstones inlaid made his majesty known, but Lonrach saw only other gems the thief king had taken. He beheld a great two-handed maul, and its head was emblazoned with a dragon's, and it spat fire and smoke from its maw. His gauntlets shone with a glimmer of magic, his pauldrons pressed heavily upon him, and his presence pressed above the Huldra king like a mountain. He was terrible to behold; fear struck at the heart of any other who would dare to come before Balengar in that hour and demand such an audience with Nidgram King. As he came, the gaze of his captains was brought low, bowed before him, who, clad in the splendor of night's shade, now stood in front of the shining son of the Huldra. Black and white, day and night, as the lieutenants of the enemy pressed upon him his royal dues,

"Hail Nidgram king, lord of the Eutunaz, heir of Krónaðr, and Voldugr, and Hrunir, great son of the Golden Father, master of magics, on whose fate resteth the fate of the First Born of the world."

Yet Lonrach stood still, unmoved by the pageantry before him, and as all kept their heads bowed, he raised his gaze and shot out a defiant glare. Steady was Laegran, for the arm that held it did not shake with fear; steady was the blade of the king. And without further words, at the first crack of the great maul of Nidgram, brought down in haste, the fight had begun, back and forth the warriors danced, and looking on were those of Balengar's wake. And Lonrach named him craven, coward, liar, and foe for all time,

"Cuthmine! I name thee, worthy of neither pity nor deserving of any honor, you have wronged me for the final time, lord of liars."

And Lonrach fell upon him with a fury that emblazoned Laegran with fire and smoke all its own. And aloft hurled the dragon hammer, and it came down with a thunderclap that shook the soot walls of Balengar. Such was the speed of Lonrach that he evaded him, and evermore he seemed a blur to the vision of all before those warped and blackened walls. His speed was such that he appeared as a bright light to them, a haze of silver and gold. As quick as lightning, he would evade the mailed arm of Nidgram and tear from him gemstones and pieces of his precious armor. As his great pauldrons and hunks of mail fell from him, the silver king struck at him and wounded him a great many times. Each time he struck, a roar of pain echoed out by the Eutun king, startling and chilling the air. For now, was the rush of battle overcoming him, he spied around the whispers of his captains. Their looks of withdrawal and dismay loomed over him as the stranger king soared. All around now, the birds and the wind cried out along the base of the encircling mountains. And their song became one before the throne of the giant king, and he felt fear there. For the stranger king seemed renewed, and with each parry and thrust, he appeared more as a pillar of light, issuing forth to blind all those there who knew darkness. In their terror, he began to burst aloud a song, for all to hear, and the wind became his instrument, and the birds his chorus.

Beneath Ciaran, his son finds strength.

Strength of my people, strength of my lands,

Strength to battle, the Lord of Corpses,

Whose thralls now stand guard over shameful bands.

Rígel has come, oh king!

Síoran calls, can't you hear?

The winds beckon to me, oh king!

Bel strike thee down in fear!

Here do I stand, unafraid.

Here do I stand, in valor.

Here will I stand forever.

Here will I be thy fear!

And the words of the king proved true; a cry arose in that time that was unlike any in the whole world. Of strange things, it was, for the wind blew far from the west, further yet beyond the great sea. A faint bellow carried by the winds toward the lands of the east. A cry from an outer world, from a forgotten past, of times ill-remembered and foggiest even in dreams. Far away, so say the Fae, the Síorocinda erupted in triumphant song for the deeds of Lonrach pleased them so. For if Illan were not a ruin, it too would have acclaimed him, and as he fought, the winds rippled and ran ragged through the billows and the pikes of Balengar and whistled like the organ of a great animal.

As the silver king of the west hurled toward him, a red fury burning upon his face. He slashed once more, taking from the east king his stance, drooping down to one knee. Nidgram was then slashed across the face, and blood trickled down from between his cheeks of plate-mail, not the burning gold that was deemed the blood of Aurelmir the father, but the hot, crimson blood of mortal flesh. And at this, a great mix of anger and fear came upon the face of Nidgram, the king of the giants, had never known so strong an apprehensive fear in all his days. As before the eyes of his thegns, whose gaze pressed upon him from along the heights of Balengar’s gate, the shadowed king arose with renewed might, his blood trickling from his face, and in a great booming voice, he cried aloud,

"Back Innrá, back to thy place in the dirt!"

And he swung his great hammer down and brought its full weight down upon Lonrach. And with this, that song died, all noise died but thunder from the earth, as the draig's head came down upon the Elder King. With a black vengeance, it came hard upon him and struck him down. Far-flung he was, and his shield lay in tatters, a rod of bark pierced his side. The king of shadow roared and fell into a fury. Blows from the dragon hammer came down faster and faster now, each fiercer and more brutish than the last. And then, with a final blow, the stranger king was struck down into the dirt. Lonrach's body was crushed, and he remained there.

The boasts of Nidgram were loud and booming,

Death and doom for thee, Innrá and cur! He cried

And he was applauded by his thegns about the walls. But atop the wall, sure-eyed Eirnan cried out,

'My king! Behind! He stirs! He rises!

And behind, the giant king turned and saw a sight that made his skin run colder yet, the Fae king was rising to his feet, sword bound in his hand, he was rising once more! Nidgram thought him finished, yet he rose, not steady, but he rose. Crimson blood smoked and streaked upon him, and yet the king rose to his feet, and his blade was red, still dripping with Eutun blood, and his gaze still firm, cutting into Nidgram, who looked in horror anew. And he raised his brow, and Nidgram saw his visage, his eyes burning and searing towards his, some new wroth was in him, some new demon come to spring upon him.

“How far have thee fared, king of dogs? How far has ambition brought thee? For such evil as thee, I reckon beyond the black wall stretcheth a thousand paces lined with bone. And by this am I slain?”

And Nidgram king replied as quickly as he could, for his temper was boiling, and all the wounds he had come by raised his fury further. “DOG!?! By a dog now are you slain, and ground to dust beneath my boot. Ambition will bury you!” And the visage of the iron king no longer cast its long shadow, nor did hot embers erupt at the end of his spurs, for all before the organ walls saw one of measly flesh and running blood.

As Nidgram ushered forward to him to deal a fatal blow, the shining king brought forth the last of his strength, and Laegran sang once more a crimson tune and tore through the approaching clawed hand of Nidgram, who let out once more, a howl of pain. Laegran shattered when pulled from the gauntleted fist of the lord of Balengar, its shards splintered at the Huldra king’s feet as his knees buckled upon the black earth. Where once fury burned, his vision softened, and a soft prayer came from his lips, and a moment of silence descended upon that place as it seemed time stopped and awaited what would come next.

As Nidgram recoiled and collected himself, he removed his blackened claw, and with a swift movement, he grasped Sylren between his hands, and they became enflamed by some incantation of Eutun magic. And the giant king plunged his red hand upon the face of Sylren and grasped him in his white-hot fingers. The king's flesh burned and scorched, Lonrach's mouth seared shut, and he was thrown down by Nidgram, who in triumph boasted and roared, searching for a glory that had since passed.

And the wind rushed and surged forth to him; his body lay crushed, and the wind carried his spirit as it fled to the long hall beyond all seas. And the Huldra lament, that upon the groans of the rushing gale, the lament for Sylren, their king, was brought to them.  Such was the grief of the lady Kavrala that she departed beyond the sea, chasing, it is said, beyond all hope, the departing whisper of her beloved. The birds cried at the death of the king, and on high, the two moons which watch over the earth turned red with the sight of his blood. Many of both Man and Fae claim the lady sails the endless sea in her sorrow and calls out to that faraway land of her beloved. Yet more claim she has ventured far beyond the great western sea, far beyond the circles of the world, beyond the starlit gate, beyond the world between, to the silver gate of Síoran's long hall, and came to dwell there in peace and seclusion, amid the essence of the Illani long passed and to the place where now she finds solitude beside her beloved shining king.