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Quicksilver - Personal background ABRIDGED

King Tar-Meneldur was overjoyed at the news that his wife, Esendrella, was with child. Tar-Meneldur was aging, and grew tired of the duties of his Kingship; what once seemed to be a position of privilege now felt to him like an inescapable prison.

When the child's birth finally came, the palace of Taj-Melene was transformed into a glittering jewel by the many candles which had been lit by Tar-Meneldur's subjects. All the nobles and notables of Nation Spirior gathered in the Great Hall, where the presentation of the child would occur. However, while above the Nation waited, below the palace the mood was much more sombre.

In the ancient tradition of the Royal Family of Spirior, any newborn babe underwent the Ritual of Testing, performed by the High Soothsayer. The Ritual consisted of three distinct parts. Firstly, the boy's innate magical prowess was to be tested. Placed within an aura of magical darkness, the child was expected to demonstrate his natural talent by creating a flash of light; the child passed. Secondly, to test the purity of the child, he was offered two objects. Again, as expected, the child chose the living plant rather than the bone of a dead beast.

It was the third part of the Test, however, which caused the joy within all those present to suddenly depart. The High Soothsayer would call upon the very powers of Chaos itself to create a series of visions which related to the boy's future; the Soothsayer would then choose a name for the child, based upon that which the visions foretold.

The first vision showed a young elf, surrounded by darkness. In the shadows moved figures which resembled dark and twisted elves; mocking and taunting the light embalmed traveller. Although the elf was struggling to hold off these foes, the light was slowly fading and ebbing away as the vision disappeared.

The second vision depicted the elf alone, sat at the edge of a vast lake and watching the dying light of the sunset. His head held in his hands, he wept bitter tears which fell to merge with the water beneath him. Was it simply the sun which painted the water red, or was it a lake of blood?

The third vision was of a fully grown elf, bearing proudly the Banner of Nation Spirior. Around him a great melee was raging, yet he strode purposefully through the surrounding combatants, with his eye upon a single figure who stood where shadows coalesced. The screams and shouts of his dying allies did not distract him from his course; he gave them not a single glance.

Finally, the elf appeared once more in robes of Purple. Upon his head sat a jewelled crown of the purest silver and above his throne hung two banners; a white cross emblazoned on a blue background and the crest of the Royal House of Spirior.

With the fading of this final vision, the High Soothsayer lifted the child into his arms and spoke: "With the blessing of the Good Sphere and the wisdom of the Chaos Sphere, I name thee 'Tar-Minyatur'. For, in a time yet to pass, you shall be the 'First-Lord' of all the Frost-Kin." At this, the High Soothsayer did return the boy to his father's arms, with an enigmatic smile upon his face.

The celebration of Tar-Minyatur's birth, a joyous affair for the citizens of Spirior, was thus a time of confusion for the Royals themselves. But try as he might, King Tar-Meneldur could not glean any more information from the Soothsayers; unfortunately, he did not have long to wait before the meaning of the Prophecy became apparent.

Several decades later, when Tar-Minyatur was entering his adolesence, dark news reached the shores of Spirior. The Prime Nation, Isindril, had fallen to a group of invaders who were known only as the drow; it was believed that they were, in fact, those who were outlawed and outcast many eons before.

Over the next two years, Tar-Meneldur prepared his armies for the fate which he suspected awaited his people. The words of the High Soothsayer, spoken years before, weighed heavily upon his mind. As news reached him that nation after nation had fallen beneath the might of these evil creatures, he spent much time planning a way to ensure that the drow would pay in blood for their crimes.

Slowly, the refugees of the war arrived at Taj-Melene. Gathering this last remainder of the noble ice elven people, the King prepared his troops for one final battle. The battle which would decide the fate of his race, at least in the present.

After four days, the bloody battle appeared to have reached a conclusion. The palace defences had been shattered and the drow were at the gates, attempting to force entry. Young Tar-Minyatur had been told by his father to remain in his room, no matter what would occur. However, being an impetuous youth, he took up his father's spear 'Aeglos' and ran to join the Battle.

The boy fought for over an hour, filled with a hatred that was uncommon for one of his age. Many drow fell beneath his blows, a result of the Spear's arcane powers rather than any skill on Tar-Minyatur's part. When he was eventually overcome, his clothes were soaked in the blood of his mortal enemies. Cursing his fate, he awaited the blow which would surely end his life upon that world...

That blow never came. Instead, Tar-Minyatur felt an aura of magic encapsulate him; the next he knew, he was led at his father's feet, inside the Throne Room. The sound of his mother's weeping cut him like a knife and the look upon his father's face did nothing but aggravate the wound.

With no time for recriminations or anger, Tar-Meneldur lifted his son from the ground and held him by his shoulders. He spoke softly, but firmly: "The Prophecy must be fulfilled. Take now my signet ring, the symbol of my rulership. Reunite the straggled remnants of our race under your Banner." With that, Tar-Meneldur placed the ring upon the Prince's finger and began to channel the magic which would transport Tar-Minyatur to the prepared tomb underneath the palace.

With his son in safety, King Tar-Meneldur turned his thoughts to the drow who were now hammering upon the very door to his throne room. Calling forth the most challenging of Arcane magic, he set about casting his final and most impressive spell. In the most bitter sweet victory of the war, Tar-Meneldur shattered the foundations of Taj-Melene, slaying friend and foe alike. For where was the line between defeat and victory truly drawn?

Half a millenium later, the ice in which Tar-Minyatur had been entombed began to melt...

Quicksilver, supplied to the library from his personal notes, Planting Moon, 10AR