by J D Abbas
“What was that?”
Yaelmargon did not answer immediately but stroked his long beard, his eyes faraway as if deep in thought. When his gaze returned to her, he said, “I did not hear anything until we were in the vestibule. I could make no sense of the noise. Tell me what you discerned that disturbed you.”
Elena blushed and shook her head.
“Do you know the source of what you heard?”
“I think it was the thoughts of those around the table,” she replied. “But I could not tell whose they were. I thought one of them was Lamreth’s.” She shuddered.
“And it frightened you?”
She pressed her lips tight and gave a quick nod.
Yaelmargon frowned and tugged at his beard. “Do you trust me?”
Elena stared into the master’s eyes. He had helped her through many desperate times. He knew much of her inner world. He’d never condemned nor judged her. In fact, he’d repeatedly told her he believed in her. The decision was surprisingly easy. She would take the leap.
“He … he seemed to know I was coming, as if he had longed for my arrival. He wanted to be alone with me. And ... and I saw hunger in his eyes, a too familiar hunger, a hunger that chilled me to the bone.”
Yaelmargon’s brows arched. “Are you certain?”
“No, I am certain of nothing,” Elena said, as frantic tears ran down her cheeks. “You asked me. I answered you. Don’t you think I doubt myself already? He is supposed to be a great man, a holy man. Who am I to question his motives? No, I don’t trust anything I saw or heard.”
Yaelmargon was quiet. “Forgive me, Elena. I did not mean to doubt you. I asked because it does not seem to fit with what I know of Lamreth.”
“It could have been someone else,” she admitted. “I don’t know. I heard many voices before the chaos began. I could not tell one from another.”
“Elena, do you trust me?” Yaelmargon asked again, his voice quiet and steady.
Why had he repeated the question? She stared at him, weighing her response. “Yes ...” But it was a tentative yes.
“Then will you keep this information between us for now?”
She studied him, puzzled and frightened by his request. “You wish me to hide it from Celdorn and Elbrion?”
“If it was, in fact, one of the elders you heard. I think it would be wise not to let them know that you are aware of what they were thinking. In truth, it might be wisest not to let them know that you can hear any thoughts.”
“But Abathor already knows I can hear Terzhel’s thoughts.”
Yaelmargon sighed. “Perhaps we can lead them to believe that it is only your son’s thoughts you can hear. The council is aware that Terzhel is powerfully gifted.”
It surprised Elena that they had already discussed her son.
“I ask you not to speak of this with your adai, not because I do not trust them—I do, fully and completely—but because the more who know, the more difficult it will be to keep it from the elders. Do you understand?”
“I think so. You are telling me not to trust the elders.”
Yaelmargon frowned. “For now,” he replied. “With the hope that, in time, we will have a better understanding of what you heard.” He sighed deeply. “It grieves my heart to advise you so. This is a place where trust should be uninhibited and you should have no fear. I am sorry, Yaena.” He laid his hand on the back of her head again.
Elena gave him a weak smile. “I do not believe in safe places, remember? One day I hope you will prove me wrong.” She faced the master full on and squared her shoulders. “I will keep this to myself for now.”
“Will you please inform me if you hear or sense anything else?”
She nodded. “Master, is there anything you can teach me to help me block the many thoughts? If I return to the outside, won’t it begin again?”
Yaelmargon was quiet. “It seems this ability is not always present for you. I am not certain what it is that causes you to hear at one moment and not another, other than the Jhadhela’s leading. Unless, perhaps …” He paused, clamped his mouth shut, then frowned.
Elena cocked her head to the side. “Are you hesitant to explain it to me?” She smiled up at him. “Do you trust me?”
Yaelmargon chuckled softly. “I do, my dear.” He took her hand in his. “Elena, there is a skill you have been practicing most of your life though you have not consciously been aware of it.” She gripped his hand tighter, puzzled by his words. “You have been able to hide in here while maintaining an active presence in the outside world. Perhaps now is the time for you to begin intentionally using this ability.” The master laughed when he saw her perplexed expression.
“You are in your internal world now,” he continued, “but how do you appear on the outside at this moment? What do others see?” He paused to let her consider.
She began to tremble and the room to spin. “I was wrong; it is too much for me,” she whispered. “It will drive me mad.”
“Yaena, you are no longer a child. You have power. You have choice. You need not fear these gifts.” His voice was calm, assuring. “You need not fear your own mind.”
She stared into his eyes, longing to understand and to find the strength he claimed was inside her.
“Do you remember when we worked in the training arena on uniting with the warrior inside you?” Elena nodded. “You learned to use the strength of the one inside without exchanging places.”
“But she was not me. I could watch her come and go. How do I do that with only myself?”
Yaelmargon held her gaze. “The warrior is equally you.”
Elena shivered. “Elbrion attempted to tell me once that all of the children I saw inside were me. Is that what you are saying? These others, they are all me?”
The master was silent.
Elena squeezed his hand. “Answer me, Yaelmargon.”
“You already know the answer, Yaena.”
She thought about the rubble outside her protected room, about the children she’d seen hiding behind the ruins. “Where are the strong ones?”
“You know the answer to that, as well.”
Elena huffed. “I do not.”
“You do,” he insisted. “When you saved the child buried in the ground and the one being drowned in the river, where did you find that strength?”
“It was just there.”
“Were you the warrior?”
Her brow furrowed.
“And the time your father dragged you into this hall …”
“I was the whore …” She paused as she thought through what she had seen in the corridors. “I don’t see the warrior or the whore in here, like I do the children, except that time in the third door. Is that because I can merge with them here?”
“You tell me.”
“So is there another part of me that has the ability to hear thoughts, like Gia has the ability to heal?”
“Elena, this is your mind. Only you know the answers. There are some things I see clearly, some I do not,” he admitted. “You did find a way to communicate with Khanab through the mirror when you were trapped inside.”
“You know about that?”
“Yes, of course. Khanab shared it with the council. They were quite impressed.”
“So it really happened?”
“Did you doubt?”
“Yes, it seemed like a dream—a nightmare really. I still don’t know how I did that.”
“Your powers are quite remarkable.”
Elena paused to consider. “So I also have a part that can hear thoughts and communicate across distances?” She frowned. “This is overwhelming.”
“You do not have to understand it all today.”
Elena closed her eyes. “So when I begin to hear many thoughts, I need to ask that part of me that is gifted in that way to go into this room and close the door.”
“And when you do hear things, trust that she is sharing with you what is needed.”
“Oh!” Elena’s eyes widen
ed. “She was letting me hear because I needed to know something. Am I right?”
“It would seem so. I am inexperienced when it comes to this, Elena. Lamreth is the expert in reading thoughts, and, under other circumstances, I would send you to him.” The master frowned again. “Perhaps it was necessary for you—and me—to know that Lamreth may make an attempt to separate you from the rest of us. We must therefore be on our guard. And it would be wise for you to listen carefully for any thoughts allowed to pass through to you, so we can be fully prepared.”
“I will try.” She grinned up at him. “It seems I am as much a challenge to you as I am to myself.”
“I am fond of challenges.” He smiled in return. “As I am fond of you.”
Elena grabbed hold of his strong hand, and they returned to the outside.
Chapter 9
Yaelmargon crawled from beneath the table, followed by Elena. She returned to her place embarrassed and agitated.
“What happened, little one?” Celdorn asked as soon as she was seated.
“I don’t want to answer that.” Elena couldn’t help but avert her eyes. She knew the answer was evasive but didn’t know how else to answer without being dishonest. “At least for now,” she added with a quick glance his way.
Celdorn frowned but let it pass. “Are you all right to continue?” His hand hovered over hers for a moment, as if uncertain how she would respond. When their eyes met and she nodded nervously, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
Elena blew out a breath and worked to keep her thoughts quiet and restrained.
Lamreth scrutinized her for a few moments before he returned to his place at the table.
When she glanced around at the others, most of the eyes were on her, but, fortunately, the voices were now quiet. “I’m sorry for causing a disruption,” she said, feeling the need to say something. “Thank you, Lamreth for your warm welcome. I will try not to further abuse it.” She attempted a brave smile.
Yaelmargon’s mouth gave an ever-so-slight quirk, and she sensed his pride swell. It was a good feeling.
“No need for apology, Elena. I know that this journey has taken a great toll on you,” Lamreth responded. “My hope is that you will find peace and healing within the sanctuary of Queyon.”
Elena tried to hold his gaze, but it was difficult. She felt as if he could see right through her. “Thank you,” she murmured and looked down.
The Xiander, seemingly unaffected by her outburst, continued with his introductions. “You have entered into what we call the Rhashelion, the Chamber of Agreement,” he told her, “where the council of the Elders or Qadhar, as we are addressed, has met for centuries. You have seen some of the history on the walls and window etchings, and you will find that the more you explore, the more you will uncover.
“In addition to the twelve levels you have seen, there are three levels beneath the earth whose chambers contain the tomes and scrolls of all our history and that of many other races. A half dozen of your lifetimes would be necessary to gain even a cursory knowledge of what lies within.”
“Lamreth, you forget, she only appears Wallanard,” the elder to his right interrupted in a hoarse whisper.
The Xiander chuckled. “You are so right, Nadheniel. I had quite forgotten; her guise is so convincing.” Then to Elena, “As a Rahima, one of your lifetimes would definitely suffice,” he added with a grin. This sent another chill through her.
“Before you are the thirteen elders who currently govern Queyon. The same elders have ruled here for nearly fifty years.”
Elena noted a painful shift in Elbrion at that statement. She felt compelled to place her hand on his forearm, and he glanced at her with a curious expression.
The Xiander gestured to his far right. “They are: Jerekhum, Abathor, Markhum, Jhoniel, Osanior, Nadheniel,” and then to his left, “Mojhan, Wezhar, Pladiur, Khanab, Hezhion, and Yaelmargon, whom you already know.
Elena’s eyes and heart were drawn toward Abathor, who had overheard her conversation with Terzhel. He knew at least that much of her gift, and yet his presence did not frighten her. There was a tranquility that emanated from him that soothed her, and stirred some deep, unnamable longing within. She forced her attention away as Lamreth continued.
“Each of us has his own area of expertise, be it languages, lore, art forms, healing”—his eyes shifted momentarily to Mikaelin—“manipulation of the light, and so forth. You are welcome to visit with us at any time and glean from our knowledge,” he offered. “We also wish to learn from you. None of us has ever met a Rahima, outside the battles of war, and none of us are likely to do so again. As far as we know, there are no others that serve the Jhadhela. You are an anomaly.” He stopped when she frowned.
“I beg your pardon.” His face filled with concern. “It was not my intent to offend. I meant you are a rarity, but a most blessed rarity, a great gift to this world and to us. We are honored to have you among us.”
Elena detected no insincerity or manipulation in his words. She blushed. “Thank you, Xiander, but I am hardly worthy of such accolades. I am a broken and weak representation of the Rahima, if indeed that is what I am.”
“On the contrary, young lady,” an aged voice to Lamreth’s right spoke. “You are the only one among us who has faced the Alraphim in open battle and come away victorious. And you are the only one who has passed through death to be here now.” Abathor’s eyes twinkled as he spoke. “I see only great strength in you, dear one.”
Elena’s eyes widened, and she stared back at the sage, working to hear what he was not saying aloud. She could not grasp it. His eyes danced, and his face lit with joy. Again, she felt tugged toward him.
“Hmm, it would seem Abathor has some insight that the rest of us lack,” Lamreth said. “You have a tale to tell that we have been waiting to hear, Elena, as do the Guardians who accompanied you. Are you willing to speak about what happened on the mountain?”
Elena’s gaze darted to Yaelmargon, who nodded almost imperceptibly, and her hands grasped for her adai’s as if searching for an anchor.
“Is it safe for me to discuss such things openly?” she asked Lamreth.
The Xiander glanced to his left and his right. Heads bobbed around the table.
“There is no need for secrets here. What is spoken in this chamber will be heard by no other, except those you choose to tell. It is our desire to assist you in understanding what has transpired, if it is within our wisdom and ability to do so.
“Do not be deceived: what occurred has not only affected you, it has affected all of Qabara. History has shifted, child, and it has shifted at your hand.” He studied her solemnly. “Do you feel … safe here?”
“No.” Her answer was immediate and unequivocal, receiving a startled wave of surprise from half of those at table. “But I have never felt safe, so please do not take offense.”
“None taken,” Lamreth said with a smile. “We are astonished, not offended. What can we do to alter that?”
“Nothing.” Again, her answer was immediate, and eyebrows went up around the table. “But I will proceed, nonetheless,” she added, “if my adai agree.” She glanced from Celdorn to Elbrion.
“It is important, Sheya,” Elbrion replied. “The elders may be able to explain things that have stymied us. At last, we are in a place where some of your history and experience can be understood. I have longed for this for you.”
“And I as well, little one. Share as much as you are able,” Celdorn encouraged her.
“All right,” Elena nodded and squeezed their hands, pulling on their strength. “Where do I begin?”
Chapter 10
“I begged Nakhona, my filly, to stop because I knew it was not safe to leave the shelter of the Ilqazar, but she spoke to my mind and told me that she was taking me home,” Elena explained, beginning where Celdorn suggested, at the point they had lost contact with her. “I realized then that I had been betrayed. She told me I would find more power on the other side, but I did
not want Anakh’s kind of power.
“As we climbed the heights, I heard Anakh’s voice calling to me. I turned back and saw that you were not coming after me,” she said to the Guardians, “so I knew I must face her alone.”
“We tried to pursue you, little one,” Celdorn interrupted, “but we were prevented by the Ilqazar. They betrayed us as well.”
“I knew you would have come, if at all possible, but I felt you with me nonetheless. A fire grew inside me. I was Elena Celebriana, a warrior, the daughter of Celdorn, of the line of Malgion, and the daughter of Elbrion, of the line of Baelradon.” She looked from one to the other with great pride.
“I was not going to die without a fight. I also realized your lives depended on how well I battled. I tried to remember everything you taught me,” she said, glancing from Tobil to Yaelmargon. “I thought about what was written upon my blade, and I tried to envision your mother”—she gripped Celdorn’s arm—“riding alongside me.” Her ada smiled though tears spilled from his eyes. “I recalled how Silvandir’s and Mikaelin’s love had overpowered Anakh’s hate and driven her and the other Rahima away.” She exchanged smiles with both men. Silvandir broke into a broad grin filled with so much affection it twisted her heart. Though she could not see Mikaelin’s face to know his response, she doubted he smiled.
“In those few moments I recalled all your words of faith in me, and your deep love.” She paused and shared a smile with the Guardians, her protectors, her ... family. At the thought, warmth spread through her body. Tears fell freely, and she felt no compulsion to stop them. “I determined that if I must die then your faces would be the final thing I focused upon, not the evil that lay before me.”
Elena paused and stared at the table. All joy fled as a chill enwrapped her. It seemed even the light in the chamber dimmed. “I was ill-prepared for how vicious and horrific that evil would be. Even my worst imaginings could not come close to what was about to occur.
