by Jayden Woods
*
Eleanor strolled through the Gardens of Delight and marveled at every flower and vine in sight. How had she not noticed the beauty of this place before? How had she not appreciated any of the wonders of Dearen? She felt on the verge of a tremendous discovery.
In the past she had disregarded safra for its tendency to stop work flow and cease the production of physical goods. But what if the production of happiness was just as important as those physical items? Archon Picard had suggested as much, which gave her a shiver of discomfort, but she had to confess now that he’d made a good point.
This discovery had profound repercussions if it was true. It meant that for a long time, the ideals she had supported in Yamair had been misguided. It meant that she might have to renege on her agreement with Princess Fayr to stop the importation of safra into Yamair. It meant that King Byron had been right to search for a source of safra beyond the Three Nations. And it meant that Eleanor had been wrong all along.
She stopped and clutched her head at the confusion of it all. She didn’t want to contemplate all these things right now. The consequences of all she had done in the past, combined with all she had done last night, caused her too much anxiety to consider at once. She wanted to enjoy her happiness here just a little while longer.
She seemed to be one of very few people who still felt happy, anyway, on this strange and new morning. When she strolled the gardens in the past, she saw lovers or friends sharing food, conversation, or sex. This time, she passed only a few people lingering the gardens, and most of them wore frowns on their faces, or argued with their neighbors, or glared at her suspiciously as she passed. She saw two men who even yelled and shoved at one another.
Eleanor avoided these people as well as she could, preferring to keep the illusion of tranquility in her mind intact. She could stay in Dearen for as long as she wished, but how long would she stay now? The air was clear of the Haze. While there was still safra to be found dusting the ground and plants, she doubted it would stay there for long. As if to prove her own point, she dipped her finger into a flower and collected some safra from its petals. She licked the glittery dust from her skin, smiling with delight.
“What are you doing?”
Eleanor started, then turned to see a very strange man standing before her. It took her a moment to recognize him, and once she did, she found herself even more unsettled than before. “You ... ?”
“We meet again, King-wife Eleanor.” The Merchant bowed low, pulling his feathered cap from his head. His long white hair poured over the soft blue velvet of his suit. Then he straightened and fixed her with his eyes of pitch black. “And I ask you again: what are you doing?”
She shouldn’t have felt intimidated. She was the King-wife of Yamair and he was a mere merchant from some unknown land. Yet for some reason she quaked in her boots, and struggled to keep her posture straight. “I’m enjoying my time in Dearen,” said Eleanor. “However, I don’t see why that’s any concern of yours, Merchant. I don’t believe I ever learned your full name ... ?”
“And you never shall.”
His tone made her knees wobble. He had such a deep and steady voice, firm yet resonant. “Then I have no reason to endure your lack of manners,” she said, and turned to walk away from him.
“Eleanor. I have news for you.”
She stopped cold. How dare he address her by her first name? And yet she believed him, so she waited for him to go on.
“Your husband, King Byron, will return soon from his travels.”
She turned to look at him, even as the blood drained from her face. “What ... !”
“You can doubt me as it pleases you, which I’m sure you will,” he said. “But my knowledge is sound.”
“How could you possibly ... ?”
“Suffice it to say that I have eyes and ears beyond the northern shores, and I know that your husband’s ship reapproaches this continent. Rest assured, Byron rides safely on board.”
Eleanor trembled at the implications. She wanted to believe that this man toyed with her, but as she studied the firm expression on his dark brown skin, she failed to convince herself of his trickery. “Why are you telling me this? Why are you even here? Did you come all this way just to—”
“I see that you want to detach yourself from your own feelings of insecurity and place them on me as a form of displacement.” He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “At least, that is the best I can do to understand your turbid state of emotion. Once I thought you stronger against emotions than the average human. But now I see that you are more vulnerable than most.”
“What? No. How could you—?”
“Do not question what you dare not understand, unless you desire an exercise in futility. Most desires are such.”
He turned to go.
Eleanor felt the urgent need to know more about this man, to learn why he came here and what he wanted from her. In one sense she wanted him to leave so he would cease to disturb her; but she also sensed that this meeting would haunt her if it ended now, like an opportunity lost. “Wait—please! What am I supposed to do?”
He paused and regarded her carefully. “Do you really want to know the answer to that question, or do you only wish to think you do?”
Her mouth went dry, and she couldn’t find the strength to answer.
“I will tell you the answer, Eleanor, but it will make you responsible for whatever comes next. If you seek the way of the balance, you must cast away all deviations immediately. You must leave your mistakes in Dearen and cross into Yamair before the end of today. You must prepare for your husband’s return. Then you must attend to him and see that he does nothing to stray from the balance. If you continue to stray from this moment forth, then so will he. Do you understand what I say to you, Eleanor? I am the Merchant, not the Timekeeper. I cannot see the future. But I cannot bargain with you on this particular matter. If you do not return to the balance immediately, then the price you pay for your transgressions will be very, very high. Goodbye, Eleanor.”
He left her thus, and a tear rolled down her cheek, for all she had done, and all she might never do again.
