PROLOGUE
The place was called Gorgantum.
Wounded once more, he fled there; and having fled, seethed. It was not a defeat, not wholly. No one could say such a thing while he yet lived and held Godslayer in his possession. He was Satoris Third-Born, and from this place, this vale, to the Sundering Sea, the west was his. Two of his Elder Brother’s three Counselors were slain, their weapons lost or scattered. The high Lord of the Rivenlost was slain and his son with him, and many others, too. The number of Ellylon who remained would fill no more than a city. There were Men, of course, in ever-increasing numbers, but such discord had been sown on the battlefield as would make for bitter blood between the two races.
It would be long ages before another attempt was made.
But it would happen.
He knew his Elder Brother.
There had not always been enmity between them. Once, the Seven Shapers had dwelled in accord, in the beginning, when Uru-Alat, whom Men called the World God, died to give birth to the world, bringing them forth from the deepest places and giving power unto them.
First-Born among them was Haomane, Lord-of-Thought, for he was brought forth at the place of the Souma, the bright gem, the Eye in the Brow of Uru-Alat.
Second came Arahila the Fair, Born-of-the-Heart, and there was grace in all her ways, and compassion in her fingertips that Shaped the emerging world.
Satoris, once called the Sower, was Third-Born at the juncture of the loins, and in the quickening of the flesh lay his Gift.
Fourth came Neheris, from the northern forelimb, Neheris-of-the-Leaping-Waters, and the high, cold mountains with their sparkling rivers would be her demesne.
From the deep seas came Meronin, where the southern forelimb made harbor, and the Fifth-Born was deep and kept his counsel.
Sixth came Yrinna-of-the-Fruits, Lady of the southern aftlimb, and abundance was in her touch.
Last-Born and seventh was Oronin, the Glad Hunter of the northern aftlimb, and not least, for death rode in his train.
And also, there were dragons.
In those days, the Seven turned their thoughts to the emerging world. Oronin the Youngest gave Shape to wild forests as Yrinna, his sister, brought forth orchards and fields, and Meronin gave form to gentle harbors and deep seas even as Neheris made to rise mountains and rivers. In the Souma dwelled their power, and each drew upon it according to his strength or hers. Haomane First-Born took the brilliance of the Souma itself, the Eye of Uru-Alat, and gave Shape unto light. And the sun shone with bright radiance as it passed; but the night was black, and Arahila took pity upon it, and did Shape a second light called the moon, pale and beautiful, and thousands upon thousands of stars.
This world they called Urulat, after the World God whose death had given birth to it.
And still life emerged from the death of Uru-Alat, those races known as the Lesser Shapers, and each of the Seven did claim a race and Shape their Children according to their strengths and desires.
All save Satoris, who spent his time walking to and fro in the earth, and conversing with dragons; for they came forth from the very bones of Uru-Alat and there was wisdom in them, and cunning, too. Alone among the Seven, Satoris hungered for their knowledge. But his Gift lay in the quickening of the flesh, and he gave it gladly for the asking. Neheris did ask, and Meronin and Yrinna and Oronin, and thus were the children of their Shaping quickened, and the lesser races did increase; Fjeltroll and fish, Were and stag, Dwarf and rabbit alike. Where death entered the world with Oronin’s presence, it was countered with Satoris’ Gift, and the races did continue.
For the Ellylon, Haomane sought it not, for he had completed their Shaping before the final throes of Uru-Alat’s death and time touched them not. He was First-Born, and he drew upon the fullest power of the Souma and wrought his Children of pure thought. Only Arahila’s touch did Haomane suffer upon their Shaping, Second-Born and nearest to him of all his brethren. No lesser touch would he abide. Thus did Arahila Shape love into the being of the Ellylon.
In turn, Haomane Lord-of-Thought did place his Shaping on her Children, and those were Men, second among the Lesser Shapers. And they were mightier than all save the Ellylon for they turned the emergent world to their own ends; but they were not outside time and death’s touch. Thus did Arahila the Fair seek Satoris’ Gift for her children, and Satoris granted it, for he loved her well.
And Haomane was displeased.
For Men were not content, but made war upon the Ellylon, in ever-increasing numbers. And it came to pass in the Fourth Age of Urulat that Haomane First-Born asked Satoris to withdraw his Gift from the race of Men.
Three times, he asked.
Three times, Satoris refused. Out of love for Arahila, he refused; and out of knowledge, the deep and dire knowledge gained from congress with dragons. And, in the discord of his refusal, the Souma, the Eye in the Brow of Uru-Alat, was shattered. In that shattering, a single shard cracked loose from the whole, a shard shaped like a dagger.
Godslayer.
It was Oronin Last-Born who seized the shard and planted it in Satoris’ thigh, wounding him so the ichor flowed like blood. Not until then did Satoris call upon the dragons, summoning them to his aid.
So began the Shapers’ War.
Though many dragons died and Satoris was held at bay, he might have prevailed in the end, had it not been for Haomane First-Born. The Lord-of-Thought struck the earth a mighty blow, severing the head from the body of Urulat. And, in accordance with the will of Meronin the Deep, the Sundering Sea rushed in to fill the divide.
The Six Shapers were islanded, on that island later called Torath, and the power of the Souma was broken; but Satoris was cast out on the far side of the Sundering Sea, bereft and wounded. The dragons abandoned him, having paid too high a toll for his friendship. This Haomane saw, and the Lord-of-Thought drew upon the might of the shattered Souma. Though he could not Shape the land, he caused the sun above to blaze like a terrible Eye, and Satoris was scorched by the heat of it, and his skin darkened and parched, and the earth did also, until Arahila begged Haomane to relent for mercy’s sake.
Northward, Satoris fled, where the mountains cast shadows over the land, and he sought shelter from Haomane’s wrath in the deep caverns of the Fjeltroll, Neheris’ Children, brutish and strong as mountains, and as solid, too. There he spoke gentle words to them and the Fjeltroll gave an oath to aid him, for they knew naught of the Shapers’ War, only that he repaid them in kindness; a kindness Haomane in his pride had never shown them. He sought to heal himself, but ever after his skin bore the mark of Haomane’s anger, and the wound dealt by Oronin was unhealed, but ever wept tears of ichor.
And Satoris’ Gift was no more.
Still, Haomane would not leave him in peace, but lurked on the isle Torath, and breathed distant rumor into the ears of all on Urulat who would hear. Ellyl and Man were reunited in hatred of Satoris and gave new names to him: Banewreaker, Sunderer and Prince of Lies. And it came to them through Haomane’s whispers that if Satoris were defeated, Urulat could be remade, and all would bask in the light of the Souma.