Soul Goblet

by J. A. Culican

  Once she'd finished the minute details, I stood, allowing her to tighten and smooth my undergarments before finally, carefully, placing the heavy dress on top. I held my breath as she fastened the back, tightening it to show off my waist to its full advantage.

  I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror along the far wall and knew, on the outside at least, I was every inch a sheltered princess. To so many of the elven folk, it was all I’d ever be. A woman to be traded for matrimony, for alliances. Not a person in my own right, not even a warrior, allowed the freedom to come and go and die for what I believed in.

  The second that emissary had arrived and the elves had begun preparing for war, something had changed inside me. I may not be a fighter, but I was a scholar, and my brain was as sharp and well-honed as any weapon. I wasn’t willing to sit back and allow my parents to trade me to make alliances. I wanted to be useful beyond simply getting married.

  "There, milady. What do you think?" My maid’s timid voice interrupted my rebellious thoughts. I smiled, lightly touching her on the shoulder as she’d bent into a deep bow awaiting my response.

  "You've done a marvelous job, as always." I waited for her to look up, but she continued to curtsy, keeping her eyes down. I wondered how long it would take, if ever, for her to look upon me as a friend, the way I hoped Sel did most of the time. We remained like that, my hand on her shoulder while she remained subservient, until finally she looked up and saw my pensive expression. Her eyebrows raised with alarm and I removed my hand from her shoulder and waved it in dismissal, trying to allay her fears.

  "I was just thinking how lucky I am to have you. I wish you believed me when I tell you I would like to have you think of me as a friend."

  Her cheeks pinked slightly, and I caught a ghost of a smile. "I know, milady. But it is so strange to me it may be almost against my nature." This time, she looked at me full in the eyes and added softly, almost whispering, "I’ll keep trying, milady."

  She bowed again quickly, this time a mere bob of her head, then disappeared. I smiled, feeling as if maybe I’d broken down a barrier. I didn't have many friends, since others my age and station either thought I was strange, or I found them irritating and shallow. It would be nice if my personal assistants would trust me, so I could trust them back unhesitatingly in return.

  The door swung open, and Sel smiled down at me. He followed me to the banquet hall, remaining one pace behind always. As I was unmarried and we were hosting the dinner for the festival tonight, I took my place at the head of the room, at a large table raised on the dais looking out on all the others below. I hated these events but smiled the way Mother had taught me.

  I allowed him to pull my chair out and push it in once I was seated. The men at the table stood until I had taken my place, then sat and resumed their own conversations. A quick scan of the table showed the faces I’d expected. My mother and father, my brother and two sisters, as well as most of my extended relatives. My aunt and uncle, cousins, and a few high-ranking and important visitors. I smiled broadly, unable to hide my delight when I realized I had been seated next to my great-uncle, Jorel.

  "It’s wonderful to see you here tonight, Uncle!" The last time I'd seen him had been at least five years ago. His eyes sparkled as brightly as ever, but he seemed older than I remembered. Or perhaps it was I who had changed.

  He smiled back, tipping his head slightly. "Lovely to see you as well, my young Rhiniya. I was asking your mother about you earlier and she expressed some dismay at your most recent past time."

  I could tell from the look on his face he meant no judgment, and in fact, appeared intrigued instead, his bushy eyebrows drawn together as he waited for my answer.

  I inclined my head, unable to resist the chance for a willing ear to discuss my latest idea with. I hadn't even bothered mentioning it to my parents, let alone my sisters. My brother was so busy preparing for battle with the other elves I'd hardly seen him around the house at all, so he was also out as a confidant. But I could tell my uncle was interested in what I had to say when he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table.

  "Ever since the news came, I've been looking in the old textbooks in the library, trying to figure out what it was Onen Suun did to trap Dag'draath in the prison."

  He quickly looked around, then leaned closer when I stopped, feeling dumb. I sounded like a naïve schoolgirl recounting an assignment. I flushed, ready to turn away and change the subject, but he dropped his voice to a whisper meant only for my ears.

  "Have you found anything? The library at Cliffside is one of the best in all the elven territories. Anything in there to help defeat Dag'draath?"

  My temporary fit of nerves abated at his clear interest. I leaned closer to answer in a conspiratorial tone. "There were two books I found, each with black leather bindings. They seemed to have paragraphs mirroring each other, only they were slightly different. One spoke of the High Dragons, while another spoke of an artifact. I’d found a few more, but…" I cast an exasperated glance toward the head table and the guests below.

  "Then duty called, did it?" He laughed again, before shaking his head. "Never you mind. I'm sure you’ve planned some excuse to slip away later." He slyly looked over his shoulder to where my mother sat, engrossed in conversation with a traveler.

  I pursed my lips but didn't answer. It was true I’d already planned my way out, but I didn't need to share that with anyone and confirm their suspicions. I changed the subject, keeping my voice low. "What do you know about how Onen Suun ended the Dark War? I've only found hints in those textbooks I mentioned, but you've been around a little longer than I have. Perhaps you've heard something?"

  As delicacy wasn't always my strong point, I’d asked a little more bluntly than was necessarily polite, but he didn't seem to mind. He leaned back, stroking his long silver beard, then allowed his hand to drop to an old amulet he wore around his neck. He fiddled with it for a moment as he considered my question. Just when I was ready to scream at the suspense, he finally bent his head back toward mine and answered in a whisper no one else could hear above the din of the festival around us.

  "I do remember a few tales, but likely not important enough to be of any great assistance. I believe it was the dragons who did most of the work in sealing the prison of Dag'draath." He paused, raising an eyebrow. "That's actually where the Bruhier Elves started. A group of elves known as the deep elves joined the fight on Suun’s side, but almost all were lost in the attempt."

  His face was solemn. Sadness at the loss of elven lives was deep amongst my people because we were such a long-lived group. To lose any prematurely was a great tragedy, let alone to lose an entire tribe at once. I vaguely recalled hearing of them before, but it was obviously before my time.

  "Are those the same ones the forest elves call the Dead Clan?"

  He pressed his lips together. "The very same. The deep elves who lived became known as the Bruhier Elves, but because only a handful of the original force remained, many of the elven clans began to refer to them the Dead Clan. They prefer being called Bruhier Elves." He sighed. "Many good men, elven and otherwise, were lost in that dark time. It breaks my heart to think the same circumstances are unfolding again."

  My heart twisted in agreement. I was about to ask another question about the dragon connection, but my aunt leaned across my uncle to glare at me instead. "Rhiniya, darling. I couldn't help overhear what you and Jorel were talking about." She gave me a look of disappointment, her entire head sparkling with jewels, while she wiggled her shining hand at me in disapproval.

  I took a deep breath and managed to compose myself. I had to hide my judgment, but it was hard to prevent an eye-roll when I realized she was wearing a tiara. She looked like a princess four decades past her prime. Aunt Bhārjini was not my favorite, and I considered her a perfect example of what happened when you encouraged women to look pretty and marry well above everything else. Not for me.

  I gritted my teeth as I gave her a smile I hoped passed
for polite, responding as mildly as I could. "I was just asking Uncle Jorel about the lost tribe and the Dark War. I read—"

  She snorted, a surprisingly crass and unladylike sound, waving her hand airily in front of my face. It smelled like meat and I pulled back slightly. "Oh, my dear, no wonder your cousins think you're so odd. You need to stop putting your nose in those musty, dead books and settle down, get married already. No one wants a wife who spends all her time in a library. You’d make better use of your time if you acted more like your sisters." She looked pointedly at my polite, demure, and wonderfully ladylike sisters, seated beside my mother.

  I could see they’d placed the most honored guests close to them. My sisters would be doing an admirable job entertaining, faking laughter at every sentence oozing from the diplomats while batting their eyelashes incessantly. I had to bite back a snort of my own, as I wouldn't have made my mother nearly as proud if they’d tried the same thing with me. Tact wasn’t one of my strengths, let alone buttering up puffed-up politicians. Oh well. I’d rather sit next to an interesting old elf than a diplomat I needed to simper for.

  I tried to focus on my breathing and not embarrass my parents as I responded to my aunt through gritted teeth. "Yes, Aunt Bhārjini, I'm working on it, but I thank you for your concern. How is Uncle Leil these days?"

  And she was off. No longer concerned about my marriage, as I’d hoped, she was instantly distracted. Unfortunately, that meant the rest of the supper was filled listening to her as she droned on while Uncle Jorel and I interjected the occasional murmur to prove we were still present.

  In the distance, the chime signaling the end of the meal sounded and filled me with a mixture of frustration and relief. While it did mean I could escape my long-winded and shallow aunt, I was disappointed I’d run out of time to ask my uncle any further questions about the Dark War.

  Servants moved around the room as they cleared the tables of plates. As people below the dais stood from their tables, other servants efficiently whisked them away, leaving the space open for the traditional after-dinner dancing for the festival. Strains of harp and flute music began, and I forced myself to be strong. Each time we hosted a festival dance I was besieged by invitations, each time progressively more painful than the last.

  Dancing wasn't natural for me. I could dance when pressed, but it wasn’t my favorite pastime. If my father hadn't been who he was, I would have been left in peace to sit along the sidelines with the other socially awkward elves. Even now, my father was surrounded by young elves lined up at the table where he still sat. When a few cast speculative glances my way, I groaned. Why couldn’t they ask me instead of my father? Or better yet, just leave me alone?

  I fondly remembered the spell I used as a child to hide from my parents but ruled it out immediately. Someone in the room would certainly be able to see through it, including my mother and at least one of my sisters, which would draw more negative attention to me when I was caught. And if I was going to escape, attention was the last thing I wanted.

  Instead, I searched for my co-conspirator among the servants who were darting in and out of the revelers who’d begun to dance. When I spotted Sel waiting patiently beside the door, I felt relieved. We locked eyes. I widened mine, giving him the look, which was basically me looking panicked. To the casual observer, he appeared to simply be going about his duties, but the faint twitch of his nose and the minuscule upturn at the corner of his mouth as he walked toward me told me he was able to both recognize and be amused at my desperation.

  Just as my aunt was about to launch into another story, he miraculously appeared by my left elbow, bowing deeply, and keeping his eyes turned to the floor.

  "I am sorry to interrupt the festivities, milady, but there’s an important missive waiting for you in the library."

  I quickly jumped to my feet, flashing my aunt a look of apology while doing my best to suppress a smile. "I'm so sorry, Aunt Bhārjini, Uncle Jorel. I've been waiting for this letter all day and it cannot wait. Please, excuse me. I shall return as soon as I'm able."

  My aunt raised her eyebrows so high they almost touched her perfectly styled bangs, but when I leaned forward to whisper, "It's from a boy," in a conspiratorial tone, her suspicion melted away to be immediately replaced with more excitement than the sentence warranted.

  "Well," she said, her left hand fluttering to her throat. "Don't make the man wait! This could be your only chance.” She shooed me away with the other hand, the flickering of her gemstones almost blinding me again. “I shall look forward to your return.”

  I gave her a grateful look I didn’t have to fake, curtsying before hurrying off. Sel and I strode through the almost deserted hallways toward the library. It was silent away from the great hall where the banquet was being held, and I relaxed at the absence of noise. It was just the way I liked it.

  The dancing had just begun, but my head was already pounding from the noise of so many elves in one place. I looked around surreptitiously, expecting someone to catch me and tell me I needed to go back to the dance. But no one did. When we arrived safely at the library, I nearly slammed the door behind me as I leaned on it to catch my breath.

  He shot me a mischievous smile, which I answered in kind.

  "Well, that was the most fun I've had all evening," I chuckled, walking away from the door and back to the table. I was pleased to note none of the books had been touched. While I hadn't expected them to be taken, there was always the chance an overzealous servant could have put everything away and lost my place in my selections.

  I sank into the hardback chair I'd been in earlier, wincing as my elaborate dress crinkled, creating hard, uncomfortable lumps underneath me. I wistfully remembered the plain dress I'd been wearing earlier, thinking how much more comfortable it had been. I didn't have much time, but Uncle Jorel's words had inspired me to keep looking in the texts. Before I called it a night, I wanted to see what was inside the books I'd not yet had a chance to look in.

  I spread them out, fashioning a rough triangle. I flipped one open and began to read, but as every moment passed, I became more frustrated. "How in the name of Onen Suun himself could anybody understand what any of this means?"

  I gritted my teeth, looking for anything related to the ritual, the artifacts, or the Dark War in general. I reviewed the pages on which I'd found the original information, finding the two complementary passages, then moved on to the other three books.

  I remembered chapter headings, which seemed to correspond to the ones in the first two and began by focusing on the book to the left of the bottom row. The paragraph briefly touched on the artifact, but once again with irritatingly vague details, mentioning a sacrifice as well, but also not in any detail. What was different about this book was the mention of the Temple of the Suun.

  I leaned closer, squinting as I tried to make out the words. It appeared to have been written in the same hand, but it was even harder to decipher, as though this person spoke another mother-tongue, and had translated the text into this language. It was also irritatingly vague, without the specific information I needed to figure out where to go next. I sighed, moving my attention to the book in the middle, and found the same chapter heading corresponding to the other three books.

  "Oh, for the love of…"

  The sound of muffled laughter greeted my ears. I turned to glare at Sel, still standing at his perch beside the door. He looked relaxed and amused, which made me even more irritated.

  "You wouldn't think it was so funny if you were the one who couldn't figure this out."

  He raised a shoulder, giving me a half smile. "Perhaps it's time to put the books away for the night." He turned, pointedly looking toward the banquet hall. "Your lady mother will have noticed your absence by now."

  He was right, but I couldn't help feeling I was missing something. Each passage showed me a glimpse into what may have happened when they’d finally succeeded in trapping Dag’draath. But I didn't have enough to go on.

  Having mem
orized the passages I needed and allowing myself notes as well, I took his advice. We carefully packed the books I’d need into a safe spot for morning so that they wouldn’t be disturbed, leaving the others on the table. I couldn’t be sure the books wouldn’t be disturbed in the night by a serving cleaning. I stretched as I sat down at the table, then remembered something my uncle had said.

  At the time, it had been a throwaway sentence which I’m sure hadn't meant much to him. But now, amid my frustration, his words came back to haunt me.

  "Your library is one of the best in the elven territories."

  It wasn’t the statement which had been important, but it had reminded me my answers could lie elsewhere. Perhaps the reason I was so frustrated wasn't because of my lack of knowledge, but because the information I required was hiding somewhere else. At least, I hoped it wasn't my own deficiency making this so difficult. I slumped in the chair, glaring at the books in front of me for a moment before carefully cleaning myself off. I nodded to Sel as I stood. It was time to return to the festival before Mother sent servants to find me.

  She would not be pleased to find me in the library instead of at the banquet being a dutiful daughter. For now, responsibility called. Mysteries must wait.

  Chapter 3

  After we’d cleaned up, I’d gone back to the festival and behaved as politely as possible, acquiescing to my family’s suggestions. I had danced with each eligible suitor my parents placed before me, recognizing several from the line of supplicants who’d been vying to speak with my father when the dance had begun.

  I wouldn’t have minded so much if they were actually interested in me, but half of the time they wanted to know if my father was looking for a new protegé, or asked about one of my sisters. I may not be interested in marriage and romance, but it was still insulting to have a dance partner ask nothing about my interests. When I wasn’t dancing with the young elves, I was stuck faking laughter at stories from boring old elves at the correct intervals, wishing it was my uncle instead of foreign diplomats who smelled strongly of drink.