The returning of Vaegon to his people in the Evermore Forest went badly.
The long, four day trek from Xwarda, deep into the woods, had been ripe with the hope of the elves coming to the aid of the decimated human populations. The craftsmanship and skill of the elven builders and artisans had once helped raise the great city from the Wardstone foundation below. Side by side, elves, dwarves and men had created the wonder that was Xwarda. The hope that the elves would come to their aid was spurred on by words Vaegon had written in his journal. High King Mikahl had read them to the people of Xwarda at a ceremony before the trip to the Evermore began.
The elf had praised the ways of the men he had befriended, and appealed to his own people to try and rebuild the bridge that spanned the gulf between the two races. The elves of the Evermore, however, had no desire to even acknowledge the fact that the humans had come back to their forest. It didn’t matter to them, that Vaegon Willowbrow had given his life to thwart Pael’s evil. Nor did it matter that his remains, or what was left of them, were in the casket that the humans had borne.
For seven days, Mikahl and Hyden sat in the forest with the casket. Hyden could see the elves around them. Looking through Talon’s eyes, his sight was akin to elven vision, and it allowed him to see them moving like wraiths through the forest. They didn’t want to be seen though. After Mikahl learned that the elves knew that they were there, he sent the escort of honor guard who had carried Vaegon’s body, back to Xwarda. His hope was that the elves were not showing themselves because of all the people.
That had been on the second day. Now, five days later, the elves still watched them from a distance. Talon flew among them, getting their attention, so that Mikahl, or Hyden, could call out to them, and explain why they were there. They shouted out that Vaegon had died a hero, fighting to save the world from demon kind. They explained that the elf had often spoken of his love for his people in this forest. Mikahl eventually called them all cowards for not having the fortitude to show themselves.
Finally, Dieter Willowbrow, Vaegon’s younger brother, responded from the trees.
“Leave this place, and leave my brother when you go!” his voice was thick with emotion. He was torn between his love for his brother, and his duty to his stubborn, and closed-minded Elders.
“We won’t leave, until we know that our friend’s body is in the hands of those who would honor him,” Mikahl responded angrily.
“Dieter!” Hyden Hawk called out. “Vaegon asked me once to give you his journal if anything happened to him. I’ll not leave until it’s in your hands.”
To emphasize his power of will, Talon fluttered down in front of Dieter’s face, and cawed out loudly. This display scared the elves a little bit, and for another day nothing happened. Finally, Mikahl, who had the fate of several kingdoms weighing down on his shoulders, had had enough.
Ironspike came free of its sheath. Its blade was stark, and blinding white with Mikahl’s rage. The elves were so taken aback by the sight, that some of them forgot their stealth, and gasped with awe, and surprise. Mikahl let out a primal scream of rage, then went about cleaving tree, after ancient tree, in a great circle around where Vaegon’s coffin lay. The big oaks and elms fell away from the circle, and came crashing down around the elves, hiding in the surrounding woods.
Finally, Dieter showed himself. He strode out of the wreckage, with tears streaming down his face. He kept his wild, yellow eyes cast downward in shame, not only for himself, but for his people, while all around the place, which would come to be known as Vaegon’s Glade, the rest of the angry elves cried outrage, and sacrilege over what Mikahl had done to their sacred trees.
Mikahl stalked a circle around Vaegon’s casket, and glared at them, daring them to challenge him.
Hyden knew that elves rarely cried. His heart went out to Dieter, because it was obvious that he was being tormented with conflicting emotion. He knew what it was like to lose a brother.
“Vaegon was twice the man any of you will ever be!” Mikahl yelled, through clenched teeth. “He thought of more than himself, of more than his own kind. He knew the strength of the evil we faced, and he stared it in the eyes. He didn’t cower in the woods. He didn’t run or hide from it! He stood tall and proud! You shame your race with your cowardice, with your haughty lack of concern for those other than yourselves.”
Mikahl spat at the smoldering trunk of one of the trees he had just felled.