There was a time when the whole world shifted and groaned, when the Soulless ones sought to feast on the world. There was a time when the Elders were gone, but their heirs still remained to fight, hard-pressed though they were. The wildest of beasts hunted the world, for it was yet young, and warlords fought to take what they could when few could restrain them. It was a sword age and a staff age, an age of weeping and lamentation. It was a horn age and a banner age, an age of hope and glory. Many men suffered greatly in those dark days, but they fought and they did great deeds upon the fields of glory. The Castle of the Ivory Tower rose up in the mountains, a place of endless peaks and valleys. Each one had a village and a story. Many swore allegiance to king Fiyok in those days, a man of Xyl's shattered line. He had honor and justice. He had power and ferocity. People bent their knees to him out of love and the need for safety. He had many hundreds of knights in his service, each one schooled in the valorous arts of war and chivalry. None could find his court wanting, not in furious battle or in merciful peace. The king sent his knights for on errantry, that they might cover themselves in glory and win new lands for the kingdom. Sir Aidik, likewise a man of Xyl's line, was a man of that court. He was long of limb and fair of face. The common people preferred him to his brothers, for Sir Aidik was always quick to smile. His lance was long, his sword was keen, and his hauberk was as stout as courage itself. His shield bore the mark of a shining sun upon a blue field, bounded by a white border. People called him the Knight of the Sun for that shield. --------- Sir Aidik rode where the winds led him, sleeping under the a blanket of starlight and eating the fruits that the wilderness saw fit to offer. He traveled for nine days and nine nights without seeing another living man, but in time he came upon a great bridge. Now, that bridge spanned the gap between two mountain peaks, each one jagged and rough, each one crowned with a snowy cap. They were so much alike that people called them the Twins in those days, and Sir Aidik thought to pass between them. He took his horse up to the bridge, but he soon saw another knight that stood upon the other peak. The bridge was only wide enough for one to pass. "Stand aside," the other knight cried, "for I am out on errantry, and am sworn to give way only to the man who has surpassed me in valor." Sir Aidik had taken the same oath, and so he could not give way. He bade the knight stand aside, knowing full well that he would be refused. And so he offered to settle it by means of arms. The other knight consented to this, and they met in the middle of the bridge so that each could offer three strokes with the sword. It was only then that Sir Aidik looked up his foe's shield and saw it clearly. It bore a triangle of stars on a sable field, arrange around a crescent moon. Thus he knew that he faced the Knight of the Moon. They exchanged their blows. The knights gave as well as they got, and their blood flowed freely. Neither could best the other, nor could either bear to yield. Sir Aidik laid his sword aside after his three blows, and his foe did the very same deed at the very same moment. They embraced. "What," cried Sir Aidik, "is your name? I must know it, for never in all of my life have I met a man who matched me so well." "My name," the other knight said, "is Sir Kidai, and I declare on my honor that I have never taken more joy in battle than on this day." Now, each of those knights knew that he had a brother, one that that he had never met. They realized in that moment that they were brothers, both by the blood of their parents and by the blood that had mingled on the bridge. They embraced and swore that they would never cross swords again. Those twin peaks were ever after known as the Peaks of the Sun and Moon, and that bridge was called the Bridge of Brothers. ---------------- Those two brothers wished to win glory on the field of battle, but their wounds pained them very much. They went down from the mountains and passed into a fair valley where they hoped to find rest and comfort. It was a pretty place, a valley of bees and flowers. They followed a long road through that valley, but it was a delight to them. They passed rich orchards, but no wild forests. They passed fountains that gave sweet water, but no wild springs. They heard the grunting of pigs, but not the snarling of boars. They soon came to a fair village and road into the square. They rang the town's bell and shouted to see if anyone was there. Two maidens, women of Trillalillial's line, came forth to meet the knights. They were fair of face and long of hair, as lovely as the stars. They were twins, just as the Knights of the Sun and Moon were twins. They offered bread and wine, a place to sleep, and fodder for the horses. They offered the best care that they could offer. The knights accepted at once, and the maidens led them home. They feasted together on a fine table, eating bread from golden plates and drinking wine from silver cups. They had honey and wafers and spices of every description. That made merry together, and even the dog that rested under the table could eat his fill. It was only then that the maidens began to tend to the wounded knights. The two ladies bathed the two knights and put stitches in their wounds. The brothers were very pleased, for they had not expected so much. "Tell me," spoke Sir Aidik, for he did not wish to see his hosts go unrepaid, "tell me how I might repay you for all you have done." "Speak!" cried Sir Kidai, not wanting to be outdone, "speak and say what troubles you, that we might spare you from it." The two ladies were silent, and they snuffed out their candles. Night fell, and the whole house fell into a deep sleep. Their dreams were sweet. ---------------- Sir Aidik and Sir Kidai soon awoke from their slumber, and they declared that they had never felt so well-rested as on that morning. No voice answered them, for they were alone in the house. The sounds of weeping and wailing, of screaming and moaning, came to them through the window. They stood up at once and armed for battle, then they rushed out into the town's square. The two knights saw the two maidens, but the sight filled them with sorrow. The ladies were bound at their wrists and their ankles, stuck to twin poles in the center of the square. Villagers were all around them, weeping and wailing and rending their garments. The knights shouted to them, demanding that they release the women. "We cannot," spoke their leader, "we cannot, for Andalen will have his due of us or else destroy us all." Sir Aidik would hear no such thing, and he called out to the man in a strong voice. "Who is this Andalen to demand such a fee?" "He is the lord of this valley, a giant of ancient blood, foul-hearted, strong-limbed, a terror to all men." "He is nothing," spoke Sir Kidai, "nothing at all. A corpse to feed the crows, a fountain of blood to wet our swords, and a memory to haunt you." His words gave courage to some and fear to others, for no man knew if the knights could triumph in battle. The giant soon came forth to claim his tribute, and he found two knights in his path. They were steel-clad and furious, bearing the arms of the sun and the moon. The bore long lances and sharp swords. Thus did Sir Aidik and Sir Kidai meet with the giant Andalen. ------------ The two knights spoke with one voice. Their tones were iron and their hearts thirsted for battle. "Kneel and repent, for we may yet spare you, if you swear on your life to keep the peace and abandon this tribute." Thus they spoke, knowing full well that Andolen would never take such an oath. The giant spat at them, and roared at them, and stamped his great feet upon the ground. "I shall feast," he bellowed, "upon the sons of Xyl and the daughters of Trillalillial, and I shall devour them whole. My rights are my own, and I shall never surrender them. For thirty years I have lived here, and for thirty years they have lived in peace. The shepherd who protects his flock may eat of their flesh, so long as he slays the wolves that come upon him." He roared out those words and charged at the knights. He bore a heavy club, nearly as large as a belltower, and he wore great hunks of wood and armor. The Knights of the Sun and Moon lowered their helms and couched their lances. They dug their spurs into their steeds and charged into the fray. They shattered their lances upon his bulbous feet and rode their horses between their foe's legs. Andolen screamed, for he had not suffered such wounds in all his life. His blood splattered on the ground like a storm of red rain. He hefted his club and turned towards the knights even as his blood was flowing, for he was one of the old giants, and his kind could survive terrible wounds. The two knights had no squires with them, for their valor exceeded their wealth, and so they had no helpers to arm them with fresh lances. The time had come for sword work. They allowed Andolen to close, staying so close to each other that their knees were touching. They parted when the giant struck out at them, and so his club wounded only the ground. They road around him on either side, hacking and slashing with their swords. They struck with the ferocity of hate, the sort of hate that can only come from chivalrous men who have seen a scoundrel. Thus they fought, and the they shed rivers of blood. The giant's blows opened great holes in the earth, and the carnage was so great that each of those holes filled with blood. Nine times he struck, and nine lakes they filled with gore. The knights took to their feet, for their horses could not run through those pools of blood. They stepped into the gore, and it rose so high that their heads could hardly peek over it. Andolen could not see them, for he was very tall and they seemed very small to him. He stepped into the bloody lakes and brought his head low to the ground, looking for the knights like a pauper might look for a discarded coin. Sir Aidik and Sir Kidai saw their chance. The struck upward, and each one pierced one of the giant's eyes. They cut deeply and struck with such force that the eyes go stuck on their swords. They pulled the giant eyeballs out as they recovered their weapons. Andolen roared and bellowed and moaned, but he could not fight any longer. He fell to the ground. That was the end of Andolen. The villagers took great joy in his defeat, and they laid a great feast of celebration for all to enjoy. It became a wedding feast, for Sir Aidik and Sir Kidai honored the custom of those days. Each brother wed one of the rescued twins. They had cared for each other and protected each other, and so it was until the end of their days. The two brothers ruled as the new lords of that place, and they never allowed another such creature to threaten it.