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Not being able to remove any of the grime from the giant obelisk Cala looked to the first book of the three. It's white leather cover was still soft and supple when it should have been dry and cracked covered in the same filth as the large stone. Clearly somebody had taken care of the books or had rebound them in new coverings recently.
With the opening of the book, which was smooth and soundless, Cala saw the pages for the first time. The book was filled was pages made of soft black velvet, the writing on the pages was in golden scrawl, perfect and fluid written by the most precise and astute scribe. It seemed ironic for a book titled Life to have pages of black velvet within it, or perhaps that was the point.
Greetings to you the one that has had the blessing to open the pages of this book. My name is Illoy Gal'thier and I was the one that penned the pages you now read. Within you will find in brief or in deep detail the lives of the elven royals and heroes of the past. I hope that while you study this you find that of which you seek.
Historian of the Confederation of Yew
Illoy Gal'thier
Undoubtedly the name was one that the lady had never heard before, the surname was of course known to her as the Gal'thier family still held a prominent position within the Combine as the sixteenth house. The strangest of it was that the book must have been countless thousands of eras old for it to have been written by an elf that lived during the times of the Confederation of Yew and for it to be as thick as it was. Somebody must have carried on the tradition of writing the lives of those elves that fit the criteria for holding sanction within the catacombs and subsequently the three books.
Turning the page Calairiel once again saw the same perfect golden script in the same handwriting from the previous page, Illoy must have written it.
It is my honor to write the first pages on this must illustrious of elvish peoples. He was the one that led our people during the dark days after the crash landings of our people on this strange continent. I of course speak of Horenth K'tala, may I add a personal note in here as I call the mighty man King Horenth K'tala.
The page and the next one hundred that followed gave a detailed history of how Horenth led the elves of Trelore from the crashed ships to the city of Kyathis and then into the forests of the deserted lands of the long forgotten human civilization.
"Interesting life he led no?" A voice that seemed so far away yet extremely close spoke from ahead of where Cala stood. "He should have been proclaimed King of our people, there was not a single elf that deserved it more." The veiled voice spoke again accompanied by a soft blue glow from the giant obelisk.
As Cala watched the obelisk radiated a soft warm blue light, the grime seeming to vaporize into thin air as it passed along it. The runes that were written in the ancient language also began to reshape themselves on all the three into a language that was ancient before even the time of the Treloreans. Once they had reshaped themselves they too shone with a silver glow until they were no longer readable and Cala had to cover her eyes they shone so brightly.
Once the light had receded and Cala was once more able to look she would be shocked to see what stood before her. An elf with skin of the lilacs, long straight hair to match and eyes of the deepest royal purple. The ears of the elf were long and trailed slightly away from the head of the tall, graceful creature that stood before her. The beautiful elf wore robes that had not been seen on the Medonian Continent in countless eras so fine was the workmanship and the hues it was created from. Yet for all his beauty the elf had a strange effervescent quality that made him almost intangible.
"Welcome my dear to the Room of Histories." The sweet voice of the elder elf spoke to her as he stepped forward away from the subdued glow of the stone.
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