The Children of Telm - The Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy by Dean F. Wilson

The Children of Telm - The Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy by Dean F. Wilson

Author:Dean F. Wilson [Wilson, Dean F.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Dioscuri Press
Published: 2015-01-15T17:00:00+00:00


* * *

Ifferon waited by the bunkers, glancing to and fro at the commotion around him. He saw Délin singing a song to Théos, and he saw Thalla and Elithéa talking in what looked like a bitter exchange. Yet he also saw the Al-Ferian at work, bringing supplies to the bunkers and looking out warily upon the land around.

Then Ifferon was greeted by a number of people brought to him by Rúathar. There were two Ferian twin boys, around the age of twelve, a restless girl from Boror of ten years, an old woman from Arlin who had seen too many summers, and her daughter and granddaughter, whose pale complexions showed that they had not seen enough.

“These are also Children of Telm,” Rúathar said. “Their blood is not as pure as yours, nor as powerful as Théos’, but they have been hunted by Agon all the same.”

“Why are there so few?” Ifferon asked. His imagination had conjured an image of hundreds, even thousands, teeming beneath the mountain like a colony of ants. He knew from his books that Telm was prolific in his mating, and he was so beautiful in countenance that there were few, woman or man, who could resist him. It troubled Ifferon greatly that so many of Telm’s progeny had vanished over the years, as if Agon himself were the one historian, spilling the ink and blotting out the names.

“There were more before,” Rúathar explained. “There were over a hundred a few years ago, when we lived among the trees. But many were killed, and so we retreated to Abi-Enuth, and they now live in the bunkers beneath the earth. When Arlin and Boror were attacked, we saw an influx of people claiming to be Children of Telm. Not all of these were true, but some were, and we have been a refuge for many since.”

“Yet still not a safe haven,” Ifferon said.

Rúathar looked at him grimly. “Let Larksong be your lesson. You know well that there are no safe havens.”



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