by J D Abbas
Qho’el, I give the child’s agony back to you. You hold his life. It is not my place to do so. Please take it.
Mikaelin felt flesh fill his mouth. When he looked up, Terzhel was watching him, his eyes filled with concern, his own cheeks tear-stained. “I-I’m all right,” Mikaelin said as he held out his hand to the boy. Terzhel surprised him by taking it. “Can you speak?” he asked the boy.
“Waadar’s ascared to try,” Mishon answered for him. “But his tongue’s in there. I checked.”
Mikaelin suppressed a laugh. “Will you attempt it for me? I’d love to hear your voice.”
Just then, the slap of running boots sounded in the hall, and Silvandir and Elena burst through the door. Terzhel jumped and squeezed Mikaelin’s hand.
“What happened?” Elena asked, her face filled with alarm as she scanned the room. “I heard you cry out, Terzhel. Are you well?” She studied him up and down, then looked at Mikaelin.
“Now would be a good time,” Mikaelin whispered to Terzhel.
“I-I’m fwine.” It sounded as if the boy’s tongue were too thick for his mouth.
Silvandir and Elena gaped at Terzhel, a hesitant joy rising on their faces.
“You spoke ...” Elena whispered, her hands clutched to her chest.
“Yeth, Ama.” The boy blushed.
Elena dropped to her knees and gripped his arms. “Oh, Terzhel.” She glanced at Mikaelin. “Did you do this? Did you heal our son?”
Mikaelin felt his face flush brighter than Terzhel. He gave a quick nod and looked away. Silvandir plopped down on the bed next to Mikaelin, looking stunned. Then Silvandir threw his arms around Mikaelin and pulled him into a bone-crunching hug. “Thank you,” he whispered into the side of his head. “Oh, my friend, thank you again for your sacrifice.”
“It wasn’t a sacrifice. It was a great joy.” And in spite of the physical pain, and Terzhel’s memories that would haunt him for some time, Mikaelin meant it.
Chapter 22
Later that day, Elena lay on her bed musing about all the amazing things that had transpired since her arrival in Queyon—as if the fact that she’d ended up here weren’t miraculous enough in and of itself. She replayed the reunion with her adai and Silvandir. She allowed herself to feel the shock and the joy of finding out Terzhel was her son, that one of her children had indeed survived and had heard her heart cry out to him time and again. Was her daughter still alive? Could she hear her as well? Hope blossomed in Elena’s heart.
Then add to all of that, the indescribable joy of seeing Terzhel healed, to hear his physical voice, not just the one in her head. It was an ecstasy she could not verbalize or contain. As tears slid down her cheeks, a knock sounded on her bedroom door.
Elbrion stuck his head in and said, “May I show you something?”
“Of course, Ada.”
Elbrion glanced at her tears but made no comment as if he already knew the reason. He had the garments for the wedding in his arms, which he told her had been altered to accommodate her size. “I thought you would like to see these as soon as they were ready.” His light pulsed quicker, betraying his excitement.
He laid the various pieces out on the bed and held up each in turn. They were solid black with no embellishments. There was an underskirt that would wrap around her waist and fall to the ground. Over this, a long-sleeved tunic was worn, tied at the waist with a simple sash. Elena’s head would be covered with a drehma, which was similar to the hood Mikaelin had worn, that covered all but the eyes. A scarf attached to the drehma wrapped around the neck. In the end, every part of her would be covered, except for her eyes, hands, and feet. Neither undergarments nor shoes were to be worn. Elbrion explained that Silvandir would be clad in the same manner.
Traditionally, black was worn during the ceremony and white after, as a symbol of passing from the old life into the new life of union, he told her. The reasoning behind the covering of the entire body was to emphasize the eyes, which the Elrodanar believed were the windows to truth and the interior world. Any other adornment would detract from that.
Elena was puzzled. “If the waters destroy the clothing, how is it that your mother’s clothes remain?”
Elbrion’s hand gripped the back of her head, and a soft smile curled his lips. “The Elrodanar do not pass through the waters of Ellisia during their own ceremonies. That rite is reserved for outsiders or those with mixed blood. The belief being that the Elrodanar have already been purified by their many rites of passage throughout their lives. It is said—mind you, I do not necessarily agree with this—that those from the outside need the cleansing renewal of the water. The Elrodanar, however, step around the falls to pass to the wedding chamber, where they don their new apparel.”
“If the waters burn these garments from me, how will I return them to you?”
Elbrion smiled. “You will not. They will not be worn again.”
“But they were your mother’s. Don’t you want to keep them?”
“For what purpose?”
Elena was surprised by the question. “To remember her, I suppose. You have so little left that connects you to her. Do you not want to cherish these things?”
“They are just things, Elena,” he replied softly. “What I cherish most about her cannot be taken from me. To pass her things on to you is a great joy for me. It honors her.”
Elena wanted to refuse. She wasn’t worthy of this gift. But how could she deny Elbrion the joy found in giving. “Then I am honored to receive them.” She played with the hem of the drehma. “Ada, you’ve never told me what happened to your parents. Will you tell me now?”
Elbrion shook his head. “It is a story for another time, Sheya. This is a time for rejoicing. Please allow me to focus on that. There has been enough sorrow recently.”
Elena agreed and let it go. “Is there any advice you would give me before I wed?”
Elbrion paused to consider. He sat down on the edge of her bed and patted the place beside him. “Know that Silvandir is as frightened as you are by the unknown that lies ahead. Allow him his fear and his weakness, and do not despise your own.”
“That is odd advice, Ada,” she said softly.
“You are more alike than you think,” he added. “You both have great strength, and you both doubt your ability to use that strength. The two of you are good and kind and sacrificial in your love, and you both doubt your capacity to share that love. And you are in need of more laughter.” He laid his hand lovingly on her head. “Laugh every opportunity you have, Sheyshon, for there will be far too many opportunities to weep.”
Elena pondered Elbrion’s words. “Is that prophetic?”
“Perhaps. Or it may just be born of much experience.” He gave a weary smile.
“Ada, I am frightened. I do not want to leave you and Celdorn,” she whispered.
“I know,” he said, wrapping her in his arms. “I am frightened to release you. I want to be by your side, to know that you are safe. It is difficult to give that place to another.”
Elena clung to Elbrion as grief suddenly overwhelmed her. “I have longed for this all of my life. I don’t want to give it up.”
“Oh, Sheya, our relationship is shifting, but it will not go away. I will hold you whenever you have need. I will always be your ada, and you will always have a home with me. Do not fear.”
Then he began to sing. Sweet peace filled her until she fell asleep leaning against his chest.
~
Another knock on the door woke her.
“May I come in?” It was Celdorn.
“Of course, Ada.” When he entered, he grinned down at her and Elbrion. “I must have been weary. I’m afraid I fell asleep on him.” She sat upright and rubbed her wrinkled cheek.
Celdorn sat on her other side and laid his hand on her head. “I’m glad you had the opportunity, little one. You needed it. It has been a tumultuous few days.”
She gave a light chuckle. “It’s been a tumultuous life.”
“
That it has,” he agreed, his smile matching hers.
Elbrion rose and stretched. “I will leave you two to your own business. I have some things to which I must attend.” He kissed Elena’s head. “I love you, Sheyshon.”
Joy burst in her heart, filling her with a contented warmth. “I love you back, Ada.”
After Elbrion left, Elena and Celdorn sat in silence for a time. Elena noticed him working his knuckles repeatedly and frowning. “What is it, Ada?”
Celdorn suddenly put his face in his hands and began to weep.
“Ada, what’s wrong?” Elena’s heart thundered in her chest. “Have you had another vision?”
Celdorn took a few deep breaths and wiped his face on his sleeve. “I’m sorry, little one. I didn’t mean to frighten you. No, I haven’t seen a vision. I-I just don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?”
“Release you ...” His chest heaved with the words, and he pulled her into his arms. “I have only just received you back from the dead. There hasn’t been enough time for me to be a true father to you. I don’t want to give that up. I don’t want to fear for you when you are living somewhere where I cannot protect you. I know I must trust Silvandir. I know I need to trust in the Jhadhela. But I find it difficult. I’m accustomed to being in charge, able to control most things, and I cannot control this.”
Elena laid her hand on her ada’s arm. “I just told Elbrion that I’m frightened to leave your home and your care. It seems too short a time to me as well.” Her tears fell in unison with Celdorn’s. “I have longed for the love and protection of an ada all my life. I have dreamed and wept for such. I don’t want to leave. But … but I do want to be with Silvandir. I am torn.”
She paused as many thoughts vied for her attention. Her stomach twisted with confusion. One thought jumped to the fore. “Where will we live?”
Celdorn turned away for a moment and scrubbed his cheeks. When he looked at her again, he had regained control, though his voice sounded unsteady. “Elbrion and I spoke with Silvandir yesterday. You will live in a home that belonged to Elbrion’s parents, the first one they built after their marriage. It is small, but serviceable. Elbrion has never wanted to live there, so it has been vacant since their deaths. It is in the heart of Queyon, several miles from here, which will give you more security.”
“Several miles?” Elena repeated. “That seems terribly far from the rest of you.”
“Silvandir was likewise concerned about that, so Elbrion and I decided we will move into a cottage that is a stone’s throw away from yours, and the men who do not wish to return to Shefali or Marach will stay in another cottage that was once Haldor’s home when he stayed in Queyon. There is no more than a thousand paces between them,” Celdorn explained.
The thought of adjusting to yet another new place made Elena quiver inside. She hated changes and unpredictability. “Couldn’t we just stay here, and Silvandir and I share this room?”
Celdorn chuckled. “This room is little more than a closet with a bed suited for one. And Silvandir is a very large one.” He took her hand in his. “No, you must have your own home. And, while we long to protect you, we know that we must also give you the opportunity to develop your own life together. Being surrounded by warriors day and night is hardly conducive to marital bliss, I can assure you. And at some point you will want to have Terzhel and Mishon living with you.”
There was that. Elena sighed. “Will it ever become easier, Ada? Will Silvandir and I ever really have a normal life? Will we be able to form a family with Terzhel, Mishon, and this little one?” She patted her belly.
Celdorn focused on the far wall. When he answered, his voice was husky. “I do not see the future, little one. No doubt it will continue to be a difficult road for you, for a time. My hope is that one day Anakh will be defeated, and you will have peace.”
~
While Elena spent time with Elbrion and Celdorn, Silvandir had been busy finalizing the details for the marriage ceremony with Yaelmargon. When she and Celdorn joined him in the common room, Silvandir clasped Elena’s hands in his, eager to share his news.
“I sent a messenger to my family to invite them to the wedding.”
Elena’s face fell. She took a step back as the blood drained from her cheeks.
“Was it wrong of me to invite them without asking you?” He searched her eyes, trying to understand what had upset her.
“Silvandir, what will they think of me?” She focused on the floor, and the cloak of shame she wore all too often wrapped around her.
He lifted her chin with his finger. “I am certain they will think you are delightful.”
“But Silvandir …” She stopped and put her hands on her ever-increasing belly. “What will you tell them?”
His jaw tensed. “I see no reason to explain. I am a man grown. I do not require their approval.”
Elena burst into tears and covered her face, wrenching Silvandir’s heart. “They will either think I have seduced their noble son or that you have chosen to wed a whore,” she said between sobs.
Silvandir gently pulled Elena’s hands from her face. “It hurts me to hear you speak of yourself in that manner. We know the truth.” He gazed into her eyes, longing for her to believe in herself. “If you prefer, I will explain to them, in private, before they meet you.”
“And say what? That I bear my father’s child?” The agonized look she gave him tore at his heart.
“It will be all right,” he soothed. “I will tell them you were assaulted. I do not need to tell them by whom. Don’t worry, my love.” He glanced at Celdorn. “As your ada always says, all will be well.”
Silvandir wanted to kick himself. He had not stopped to consider the effect this would have on Elena. He would meet with his family as soon as they arrived. If their response was unsupportive, he would not allow them to attend the ceremony. He refused to expose Elena to any judgment or criticism, especially by his own family members.
“Perhaps this will bring a smile,” he said. “What do you say we go break the news to Terzhel?”
Elena’s face lit up. “Hopefully we can meet with him this time without terrifying him into transforming into a stone.” She gave a light laugh, and Silvandir’s chest relaxed. “We must also include Mishon or it’s likely to get ugly.”
Silvandir laughed as he envisioned the young boy patting his tiny sword and puffing up his chest, declaring that no one would take Terzhel anywhere without Mishon to watch over him. “Agreed. And we will include Charaq as well.”
Chapter 23
Elena and Silvandir laced fingers as they strode through the narrow valley toward the academy. Silvandir glanced at her every once in a while with a worried crease on his brow.
“What?”
Silvandir stared straight ahead and gave her hand a squeeze. “I’m just afraid you are going to disappear, that none of this is real, and I’m going to awake alone and tormented.”
Elena stopped and faced Silvandir, who would not meet her gaze. She gripped both of his over-sized hands in her tiny ones. “I understand that all too well.” Leaning into his line of sight, she gave him a half-smile. “I’m alive and very much real.” He chuckled. “I can’t even imagine what I’ve put you through, Silvandir. I’m so sorry.”
“You put me through nothing. You did not choose any of this.” His thumbs made circles on the backs of her hands. “I don’t want to be afraid every moment of losing you again, but I don’t know how to stop the images from tormenting me.”
Elena gazed at a flickering tree. “I saw you, you know. On the summit. You looked like a wraith.” Silvandir’s eyes widened then filled with the same haunted emptiness she’d seen on the mountain. “I wanted so much to touch you, to assure you.” Elena stroked his cheek as tears rolled down hers. “I pray we will be allowed at least some time of peace. I want nothing more than to be a family with you and the boys and this little one,” she added, glancing at her swollen belly.
Silvandir move
d closer and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry. We should be focusing on what we have now. On these moments of joy. I’m borrowing trouble.”
Elena reached up and pulled his face toward her. “Moments like this?” she whispered as her lips found his, gently at first, teasing. Then they pressed in, insistent, demanding, Open to me. His lips parted; tongues caressed, explored, shared breath. A sweet tingle started in her toes and rose through her body. His hands gripped her head, her back, drawing her closer. She felt his body respond, his pulse quicken along with hers. Then suddenly Silvandir pulled back and gasped in a breath.
He let out a low, slow chuckle. “Yes, moments like that. It seems everything else has fled from my mind ... except for the thought of your ada beating me to a pulp for throwing you on the ground and taking advantage of you right here.” With a hint of a smile, Silvandir tipped his head as if weighing the risk. “Hmm, perhaps it would be wisest to keep walking, my love.”
Elena wondered if Celdorn would indeed do that. Possibly. “Well, I wouldn’t want you damaged before the wedding.” Elena grabbed Silvandir’s hand and swung it happily as they moved on through the canyon.
~
When they drew near the academy, frantic shouts rang out from the compound. “Something’s wrong,” Elena said as she and Silvandir picked up their pace.
At the gate to the compound, they saw Elrodanar and Guardians running this way and that as if searching for something.
Silvandir grabbed one of his men by the arm. “Hermold, what’s wrong? Has something happened?”
The Guardian faced Silvandir squarely and spoke as if to make a formal report. “We’ve had some difficulty with the children from the encampment, sir. It seems that many of them have discovered abilities such as the mute boy has displayed. They can turn themselves into different objects or become invisible in a blink of an eye.” He glanced around as if expecting someone to pop up right behind him. “They’ve decided it’s amusing to hide from their Guardians or torment the Elrodanar while invisible. I’m sorry to say, we lack all order and control at the moment.”
