‘This is the Quor,’ said Tomas. ‘Come.’
She took a deep breath, gathered her wits, and followed as the old elf and human-turned-Dragon-Lord continued up the pathway. Tomas was like a mote of sun, blinding to look at if her eyes lingered too long upon him. There was a power in him Miranda could barely stand to behold, and Castdanur was like a warm old fire, the embers beginning to fade, but still giving warmth to any nearby.
As they approached a grove in a deep vale, Tomas said, ‘The Quor appeared at the advent of the Chaos Wars, or rather Ashen-Shugar has no memory of their existence before then. The War was protracted… I no idea whether it lasted days, weeks, decades, or epochs. The very nature of existence changed; and by the time the Valheru became aware of the Quor, they realized instantly that there was something here not even they dared to question.
Miranda stopped at the edge of the grove.
Giant trees, alien and graceful, with leaves that sang in the breeze and soft hues that had no place on this world rose upward like dancers caught in an instant of time as they leapt into the air. Crystal shards floated amongst the branches, refracting light in a rainbow spectrum. The air bore hints of spices and floral notes, tantalizingly familiar suggestions of some alien aroma.
And everywhere there was music, odd harmonies played on strange and wonderful instruments, heartbreakingly beautiful, but so faint as to linger at the edge of perception, a suggestion of tone and resonance hidden behind the rustling of leaves, the splash of falling water, the soft tread of feet upon the soil.
‘What is this place?’ Miranda whispered, as if afraid that to speak loudly might break some incredible enchantment.
‘The realm of the Quor,’ answered Castdanur.
‘Here resides one of the true wonders of our world,’ said Tomas. He pointed up the hill and Miranda saw figures slowly approaching. They were green in colour, human in shape, but with elongated heads without hair, their jaws pointed. Their ears looked like ridged crescents and they walked in a loose jointed fashion on long, narrow feet. Each wore a tunic to the mid-thigh, fashioned from some brown material, caught in at the waist by a leather belt. On their feet were sandals woven from something that looked like reeds. They had black eyes and tiny noses, and their mouths seemed continually set in a round expression of surprise. Each carried a long pole of wood, either a staff, or a sharpened stake.
Behind them came illuminated beings.
Miranda could put not other words to them. They were pillars of crystal, or light, or energy, but somehow she recognized instantly they were intelligent beings. They were the source of those wonders around her, she felt sure for the hint of music in the air appeared to emanate from them, and the soft glow that surrounded them gave the distinctive colour to the area. She thought the strange and wonderful aromas in the air probably came from them as well.
Castdanur turned to Tomas. ‘Dragon Rider, you must stay here. They cannot abide the touch of your cold metals. Lady, if you would come with me?’
She followed, still overcome with wonder.
When he reached the first of the green beings, Castdanur bowed his head for a moment in greeting and reverence. ‘These are the Quor, Miranda.’ To the first of the Quor he spoke in a language unlike anything she had encountered, very tonal, almost like singing.
The Quor replied in the same tongue, but his voice was the trilling sound of reed pipes. The Quor bowed its head slightly and Miranda was struck by the notion that it had very little mobility in its neck. Up close, the creature’s skin resembled nothing so much as the skin of a green plant.
Then Castdanur indicated the pillars of light. ‘And these are those the Quor serve, the Sven-ga’ri.’
Miranda could barely speak. There was such a feeling of beauty surrounding these beings of light. ‘Castdanur,’ Miranda said, finding herself whispering, ‘what are the Sven-ga’ri?’
Castdanur said, ‘I don’t know, lady. They are something miraculous that has existed here since the time before memory.’
‘I’ve never heard of either the Quor or the Sven-ga’ri, and I’ve lived on this world for a very long time,’ she softly said. ‘I was around when your father was a boy, and I have never seen their like.’
‘Few have,’ said Tomas from a short distance behind.
Suddenly she was certain of something. ‘They are not of this world.’