The Hill of Sol-Fallon, 11sc
The key turned in the lock with a harsher sound than usual, perhaps because this time it was twisted with
anger, or perhaps gloating delight. Whatever the emotion of the person who unlocked the door, Gilthanas
knew that this was not his usual jailor come with his repast of stale bread or vile stew.
Scrambling to his feet, the elven prince stood erect and glared at the shadowed hallway beyond. Years of
confinement had paled his skin and, no doubt, weakened his muscles, but they had done nothing to break his
spirit. And when he saw the one who had opened his door, that spirit compelled him into a furious rush—a wild
attack of swinging fists and inarticulate curses.
Naturally, Konnal had not come alone. The two guards of Silvanesti's military governor stepped forward
with upraised staffs. Gilthanas paid no heed, desiring only to get his fingers around Konnal's throat. But while
he saw only the sneering face of his enemy, the guards did their efficient work, one knocking his hands aside
with a sweep of the pole, the other cracking the prisoner across the skull with a blow that dazed the prince,
sent him stumbling against the door and then slowly slumping to the floor.
"Your brother never displayed such rash immaturity," said the self-appointed leader of Silvanesti in a tone
of gentle rebuke. "He had the grace to accept his imprisonment with dignity intact."
"I know that he escaped!" growled Gilthanas, dismayed by his own weakness and trying with bluster to
cover up his frailty.
"You believe that old tale? In truth, I set him free ... I had no more use for him here. And perhaps you also
know that I compelled him to return to Qualinesti, where he was treated as an outlaw—a traitor to elvenkind.
Since then there have been rumors that he was killed during the Chaos War. I choose to believe them."
Qualinesti! Even the name of his homeland brought longing to the heart of Gilthanas. When he pictured the
broad swaths of forest, the crystalline towers of his nation's capital, and the serene and beautiful elves who
were his people, he needed all of his willpower not to allow his grief to show in his face and eyes.
"But now," Konnal's tone was lofty, gloating, "it is time to turn our attention to more immediate concerns.
You will come with me."
The haughty Silvanesti stepped back from the door. Gilthanas didn't want to go with him, but the prospect
of even a few minutes outside the constricting cell was enough to overcome his loathing for the one who had
imprisoned him. He ignored Konnal and held his head high as he passed through the door, and past the
dirt-walled jailroom beyond.
One of the guards preceded him and the other followed as the little procession advanced up the stairs and
through a narrow doorway that emerged onto a sloping field beneath the open, sunlit sky. Gilthanas was
blinded by the brilliance, squeezing his eyes shut because of the mind-numbing brightness that overloaded his
senses and threatened to shut down his brain. At the same time, he exhilarated in the vastness of his
surroundings, by drawing fresh air through his nostrils and delighting in the odors of trees and grass, of fresh
air and a warm, dry breeze.
"Move!" One of the guards pushed him roughly from behind, and by opening his eyes to slits he could see
at least the ground beneath his feet. He sensed that they were moving uphill, and by the time they had gone a
hundred paces, his eyes had become attuned enough that he could open them and look around.
Together with Konnal and the two staff-wielding elven warriors, he stood atop a high, rounded hill. The
sculpted forests of Silvanesti spread to the far horizons, though the elevation itself was smooth and grassy.
Around him were several columns of white marble, and the crest was paved in similar alabaster stones.
"Do you recognize this place?" asked Konnal.
"No."
"I'm not surprised. You Qualinesti are indeed ignorant savages, with little knowledge of our race's proud
heritage. This is the Hill of Sol-Fallon."
"The place where the first Sinthal-Elish met and formed the pact of elves that created Silvanesti." Gilthanas
felt a perverse pleasure in demonstrating some awareness of elven history.
"Precisely. Your cell is a small cave that has been excavated into the hillside below."
"Perhaps it is fitting that, in your hate and prejudice, you have imprisoned an elf from a different realm here.
How like you, Konnal, to debase a place that should be hallowed."
The military governor of Silvanesti just laughed. "Enjoy your chances for bluster, 'Prince.' This will be your
last opportunity to speak such words, or any others."
"You're going to kill me." Gilthanas stated the fact, unsurprised—but also, with a tingle of energy,
unaccepting. He tried to think, to imagine some means of escape, resolving that his life would not end easily.
"Yes. Right here, in honor of the sacrifices made by our ancestor Silvanos and his fellows, who left us such
a legacy—"
"Legacy of hatred and blindness!" snapped the prince of Qualinesti. "Yes, I suppose my blood will be a
fitting offering to your dark furies."
Konnal's eyes narrowed and his hand went to the longsword at his waist. Then he shrugged. "I can't expect
a fool such as yourself to understand."
"Why kill me now?" Gilthanas asked. "I have been a prisoner for... how long? Ten years?"
"Twelve. They have been years of dramatic changes across Krynn, though you might not know about that."
In truth, the prince didn't, except for one case. Shortly after his capture, he had noticed the failure of his
magical abilities. It was as though during the familiar ritual of spellcasting he had been trying to drink from an
empty vessel— his words, his arcane gestures, had called forth nothing at all. The practice of magic might as
well have been the gibbering discourse of an infant, for all the effect it had produced.
He didn't want to admit his ignorance, yet he had to do something, if only to stall for time. "What are these
changes of which you speak?"
"Our world has entered a new age ... an Age of Mortals. The gods have abandoned us and taken their
powers with them, leaving elves and dwarves and humans to make their way on their own. But Krynn is beset
by new threats, as well... creatures of chaos that would destroy our lands from within. There are stories, too, of
great dragons—massive creatures, beyond the ken of previous knowledge—who threaten o claim all the
world from without."
"And so you decided to kill me?" Gilthanas retorted wryly. "I'm not sure I follow your logic."
"The only reason I have kept you alive this long is that I wondered if, at some point in the future, your life
might be useful to us... a bargaining chip, so to speak, in such interactions as the Qualinesti forced upon us.
But now, as of tomorrow, to be precise, there will be no interactions between Silvanesti and Qualinesti—or,
indeed, between Silvanesti and the rest of the world."
The prince was curious in spite of himself. "How are you going to achieve this?"
Konnal laughed, and there was a hint of madness in the sound. Even the two guards, Gilthanas noticed,
looked warily at their leader.
"Tomorrow we will raise a barrier around our land—a fence of magic that will sever all ties between
Silvanesti and the rest of the world. The Qualinesti will never learn of your fate, because after the barrier is
raised neither they, nor anyone else, will know anything that happens within our realm."
"You're insane!" Gilthanas spat out, reacting by reflex. "You would cut yourself off from everything else in
the world? Think of the cost, of the loss to yourselves!"
Konnal sneered. "We have everything we need. Indeed, we have much that is coveted by others. The
barrier will see that our possessions remain intact and that none may interfere with the hallowed lives within
this forest."
"This 'forest' is a tamed garden! Think of it, you fool—all your children will grow up knowing nothing more of
life!"
"All they need to know they will find right here," Konnal shot back. The pure conviction rang in his voice, and
Gilthanas was aware that this deranged elf actually thought he might convince his prisoner of the rightness of
his actions. "We have the world's highest levels of art, and a true sense of our own history—of our own rightful
dominance in the story of Krynn. And with the barrier, we will ensure that this status remains unchanged and
secure throughout the rest of time."
As he listened to Konnal, Gilthanas had been looking around, wondering about his chances for escape. He
might get away from Konnal and these two guards with a quick dash, but he saw more elves in the red tunics
of House Protector gathered in knots about the base of the hill. And he had no illusions about his stamina after
twelve years of languishing in prison. Perhaps he could take the governor hostage, use him to compel the
guards to stay back....
Even as Gilthanas had the thought, Konnal stepped back and his two attendants moved to block the
prince's path. Staffs raised, they stood ready to prevent him from attacking Konnal.
It was then that Gilthanas caught the first glimpse of wings overhead—of proud creatures gliding lazily
through the skies. He looked up to see griffins, a dozen or more of them, circling over the top of the hill. The
mighty fliers had long served as aerial mounts for elven warriors, and for just a moment he longed for the
speed that might carry him away.
"You see that even the griffins await your execution," Konnal declared with a laugh. "They know of our
plans for the barrier, and you might be surprised to learn that they fully support it."
The shadow of wings grew broader across the hilltop, and the governor raised his arms to the sky, crying
out in glee. "Come, my feathered allies . . . watch the demise of our enemy!" With a flourish he drew his sword,
while the two guards advanced to flank Gilthanas.
The first griffin flew over, and with a contemptuous flick of his taloned foreclaws, it knocked Konnal to the
ground, drawing a startled oath. Gilthanas saw that two more had pushed the guards away, while another
grasped his shoulders firmly. He felt his feet rise from the ground, and though the claws supporting him
pressed painfully into his skin, he laughed aloud at the fury on his former captor's face. Konnal brandished his
weapon wildly, but already the griffins were twenty feet overhead, gliding away from the hilltop.
Another of he graceful fliers glided underneath him, and the griffin supporting Gilthanas let go, dropping
the elf onto the broad back. He looked at the white-feathered wings stroking the air, carrying him westward,
and watched as the Hill of Sol-Fallon and the gardened forest of Silvanesti surrounding it receded below.
"Perhaps not all of your clan wants to stay within the new fence of Silvanesti?" the prince murmured,
looking into the wise, yellow eye of griffin flying beside him.
The creature merely nodded his head, and then the flight spread through the skies, angling toward the
border of the ancient elven realm, and to all the world beyond.