He blinked at her, then seemed to remember his task. He nodded hurriedly, reached into his pocket, and pulled out an acorn. He spoke to the crowd as if reciting. "Here do I, Torin Greenmoat, a man born in sunlight, plant a seed from my land." He knelt, dug a little hold, and planted the acorn.
Madori turned toward her mother and frowned, urging her to speak.
Koyee smiled softly. She stepped forward, holding a silken lantern, and lit the candle inside. "And here do I, Koyee of the night, release a lantern from my land." She let go, allowing the lantern to float into the twilit sky.
Madori spoke again to the crowd. "Our village is founded. In Qaelish, my mother's language, the word for healing is: Lentai. I name this village Lentai-in-Dusk. And may it forever be a place of healing and peace."
For a few hours they rested, ate, and played soft songs on flutes and harps. Until they built houses they would live under the sky. Until they built beds they would sleep on the grass. It would be a while before this was a proper village, Madori knew. But it already felt like a home.
Soon after her speech, two of the war's survivors approached Madori. One was the short, slim Nitomi, clad as always in her black dojai silks. The second was the towering Qato, her cousin.
"It's time," whispered Nitomi.
Madori lowered her head. "So soon?"
Nitomi nodded. Once she had been a happy little thing, excitedly spouting out loud, bubbly words. Now the dojai spoke softly. "I've spent too long away. I lost my father in this war. And I lost my older sister. And I lost my brother." She looked around her, eyes damp. "This is a good place, but it's not my home. Hashido Castle awaits me back in Ilar, its hall empty. My inheritance. It's time to go home . . . and it's time to take my brother home."
Madori knew this was coming, but those last words still stabbed her with cold grief. She nodded, approached Grayhem, and pulled the urn from his saddlebag. She stared at the round granite box for a moment, passing her fingers again and again over its cold surface.
"Here, Nitomi," she finally whispered. "Take him home. Jitomi's ashes belong in the night."
Nitomi reached out, hesitant. Then her eyes flicked down to Madori's rounded belly. The dojai paused, then pulled her hands back. She shook her head.
"No," Nitomi whispered. "He belongs here. With you."
The diminutive dojai wiped her eyes, then turned away and mounted her panther. The towering Qato looked down at Madori, then nodded once.
"Goodbye, Madori," he said. "Qato will miss you."
Madori blinked. Well, I'll be.
"Goodbye, Qato," she managed to whisper.
He nodded again, then turned and mounted his own panther. The two dojai began riding east toward the shadows of night. Before vanishing from view, they turned back toward the camp, and Nitomi called out, "Come on, Neekeya! It's dark in the night, and you'll get lost without us, so you better hurry, because if you get lost we'd never find you, so come on!"
The tall Daenorian nodded and walked toward them, leading her horse. For once, Neekeya did not wear her crocodile armor; instead, a silk qipao dress hugged her body in the style of the night. When she passed by Madori, she paused and smiled.
"Are you sure you don't want to visit Ilar with us?" Neekeya asked.
Madori nodded. "I've been to the night before. Eloria is beautiful. Enjoy your journey, Neekeya. Gaze upon the face of the moon, the glowing fish of the dark rivers, the countless lights of the stars. And then return to us here. I'm not letting you be away from me for too long again!"
The two women embraced, and Neekeya plated a kiss on Madori's cheek. "The prince of Sania still expects me back on his island, you know. I did vow to wed Kota in return for his aid. But maybe if I linger a little longer in the darkness and shadows, he won't mind. It's a large world, and there's still so much to see."
"Neekeya, come on!" Nitomi cried, bouncing in her saddle. "I'm bored and I want to go!"
Neekeya laughed, smiled at Madori, then turned and walked into the shadows with the dojai.
For a few moments, Madori stood in silence, holding the urn to her chest. Then she sighed and turned back toward the others.
"Well," she said, "let's build some houses."
And they built.
And the turns went by, and Lintai-in-Dusk grew, the shells of houses rising in the soft light, a village shared between Timandrians and Elorians, a village for all of Moth.
Many more villages will rise in the dusk, Madori thought. Towns and cities, a great civilization of people like me . . . people not Timandrian or Elorian but simply children of Moth. She placed her hand on her belly. Like my child.
In early spring, when the first leaves budded from the trees, that child was born.
Madori lay in her bed, exhausted but smiling, and cradled her newborn son to her breast. The babe was beautiful, she thought—a little wrinkly, a little red, but beautiful nonetheless. She cuddled him close, and he nursed at her breast. His hair was black like hers, but his eyes were large and blue—his father's eyes.
"I name you Tom," she whispered and kissed his forehead. "Tom Greenmoat."
When she showed the boy to her parents, they looked happier than she'd ever seen them. Torin kept gazing at the baby in wonder, speaking of how he looked just like his own father. Koyee spoke less and smiled more.
"Can you believe it?" Madori said to her. "You're a grandmother."
Koyee, who was not yet forty and looked barely older than Madori, nodded. "It's strange. I often still feel like a child myself."
As Madori held her son, she wished Jitomi could have been here with her, could have raised Tom with her. But she knew that she had the help of her parents, of all her village. And she knew that Jitomi was with her, if not his spirit than his memory. Whenever she looked into her son's eyes, she would remember Jitomi.
And I will remember myself, she thought. Myself in Iron Mine Number One, hurt, afraid, dying. And I will remember the fall of Pahmey, the genocide of Qaelin. And I will remember the killing fields of Eldmark, the multitudes dying together, their blood feeding the plains. She winced and closed her eyes, even as she held her son close. The brand on her shoulder, given to her in the mine, still hurt some turns, and she knew that these memories would never leave her. She knew that the nightmares would forever fill her sleep. She knew that she'd never forget the wagons of dead, the pits of skeletons, the screams, the stench of the dying. She knew that even many years from now, happy in her new home, her joy would be a fragile thing, a delicate shell around a broken core. She knew that the nightmares—waking in cold sweat, unable to breathe, crying and begging for life—would forever fill her sleep.
She stroked her child's hair.
"My parents fought a war," she whispered to him, "and when I was born, they swore to protect me. They swore that I would know peace. And yet a new war blazed, a fire more destructive than any before it. And I don't know if I can protect you, Tom. I don't know if I can give you a better life, a life safe from such pain. But I promise that I'll try. I promise that I'll never let you go, that I'll always love you."
Her son gurgled and reached out a tiny hand to grab her hair. She smiled and kissed his fingertips.
* * * * *
On a chilly autumn turn, Madori and her son walked through the village of Lintai-in-Dusk. Many homes rose around them, built of white stone, their roofs tiled blue. Statues stood in twilit gardens, and lanterns hung from poles, glowing gold and silver. Many villagers walked around Madori down the cobbled road, heading toward the hill.
"Mama, why do we need a university?" Tom bit his lip, thinking for a moment. "What's a university?"
"A place of learning," Madori said.
"Like learning numbers and letters?"
She nodded and mussed the boy's hair. "Yes. A place for adults to learn things they don't know."
They kept walking through the village, dressed in white silk. All around, their fellow villagers wore their finest garments, and many held floating lanterns on strings. M
adori and Tom walked around a copse of trees, and they saw the university ahead upon the hill. It was the largest building in the village, larger even than the old library in Fairwool-by-Night, and indeed many of its bricks had been taken from that fallen library.
Tom paused and stared at the building in wonder. The lanterns reflected in his large indigo eyes. "It's as big as a dragon!"
Feet shuffled, and Madori turned to see Professor Yovan approaching them. The elderly man stepped on his long white beard and wobbled for a moment, then grumbled, tossed the beard across his shoulder, and smiled at Tom.
"Indeed, my boy!" said the old professor. "I was quite surprised when your mother invited me to teach within its walls. Lovely building, indeed. Bit smaller than Teel, but the air here is cooler too, and I do quite enjoy the soft light of the dusk."
Madori smiled at her old teacher of Magical Healing. "Go, professor. Headmistress Ariana waits."
Yovan cleared his throat and nodded at her. "Yes, quite. Did you know, little boy, that Ariana is the granddaughter of Egeria, the former headmistress of Teel University?"
Madori smiled. "Yes, professor, I know. And I'm not a little boy, though my son is."
He blinked. "Yes, yes, of course. Well then. Carry on." With that he shuffled on, nearly tripping over his beard again.
The villagers gathered in a courtyard outside the university portico. Ariana spoke to the crowd, and Madori could scarcely believe that here stood the same woman kidnapped by Serin, forced to become his new daughter. Headmistress of Lintai University, Ariana now seemed as confident and wise as Egeria had been. She spoke of learning ways of peace, not war. Of learning wisdom, not hatred. She spoke of a great university for all people of Moth, a place of healing, a place not only of knowledge but of wisdom.
"What are you going to learn here, Mother?" Tom asked when the ceremony ended. They stood outside between the trees as villagers released their lanterns, letting the soft lights rise into the sky.
"Healing," Madori said.
"But you already know how to heal."
Madori thought of Jitomi, how she had held him as he lay dying.
I could not heal your father, my child, she thought, a lump in her throat.
"I will learn more," she said softly.
Tom thought for a moment, brow furrowed. "When you become a healer, will you be able to heal my father? To bring him back?"
The words stunned Madori into silence. For a moment she only stared at her son, and then she knelt and held his arms. "Sweetness, your father can never return. You know that, right? I won't be able to bring him back, even after studying here."
Tom lowered his head and nodded. "I thought so. I wanted to be sure."
She hugged him, then mussed his hair. "Now go to Grandpapa and Grandmama. Sing to them the new songs I taught you."
His face brightened and he ran off, already singing even before he reached Torin and Koyee in the crowd.
Madori smiled softly and looked back at the university. Perhaps, like the village she had founded, this university would become her legacy, the legacy of Moth. A place of healing. Of wisdom. Of peace.
"May the world know only healing," she said softly, gazing at the university, the village, the light in the west and the darkness in the east. "May we build a world not of warriors, not of conquerors, not of victors or emperors. May we build a world of musicians, of painters, of healers." She gazed at the duskmoth tattooed onto her wrist and her voice dropped to a whisper. "And may I be healed. May all souls torn in two find some healing."
She smiled, tasting tears on her lips, and raised her eyes. A single duskmoth flew above her, rising into the sky like one of the floating lanterns. Between the shadows and light, it seemed to Madori that the moth no longer had one black wing, the other white, but that it was painted all in gold, beautiful and whole.
The End
AFTERWORD
Thank you for reading Legacy of Moth, the sixth book in The Moth Saga. This novel concludes Madori's story, which began in Daughter of Moth, and it concludes an even longer story going all the way back to the first Moth book.
For now, Moth's story is told.
This has been the most complex, most challenging series I've written so far, and a series I'm quite proud of. I've immensely enjoyed exploring this world of many nations and heroes.
For the next while, I'll be focusing on other worlds. I'll be writing and releasing more novels set in Requiem (if you haven't read the existing Requiem books, you can find links to them on the next page). I'm also kick-starting a new series soon titled Alien Hunters--my first science fiction series.
But Moth will always be a special world, I think, and a world I'd love to return to someday. If you'd like to read more Moth novels, let me know! I'd love to hear from you, to hear what you thought of these books. Feel free to email me your thoughts at: [email protected]
Want to know when I release new books? Here are some ways to stay updated:
* Join my mailing list at: DanielArenson.com/MailingList
* Like me on Facebook: Facebook.com/DanielArenson
* Follow me on Twitter: Twitter.com/DanielArenson
And if you have a moment, please review a Moth book online. Help other fantasy readers and tell them why you enjoyed reading. And please help spread the word! Lend Moth to a friend, talk about Moth online, and help others discover these books. You can review the first Moth book here.
Finally, remember to visit the Moth website, where you can find original Moth music, artwork, a wiki, and more: DanielArenson.com/Moth
Thank you again, dear reader, and I hope we meet again between the pages of another book.
Daniel
NOVELS BY DANIEL ARENSON
THE MOTH SAGA
Moth
Empires of Moth
Secrets of Moth
Daughter of Moth
Shadows of Moth
Legacy of Moth
REQUIEM
Dawn of Dragons Requiem's Song
Requiem's Hope
Requiem's Prayer
The Complete Trilogy
Song of Dragons Blood of Requiem
Tears of Requiem
Light of Requiem
The Complete Trilogy
Dragonlore A Dawn of Dragonfire
A Day of Dragon Blood
A Night of Dragon Wings
The Complete Trilogy
The Dragon War A Legacy of Light
A Birthright of Blood
A Memory of Fire
The Complete Trilogy
Requiem for Dragons Dragons Lost
Dragons Reborn
Dragons Rising
The Complete Trilogy
OTHER WORLDS
Eye of the Wizard
Wand of the Witch
Firefly Island
The Gods of Dream
Flaming Dove
KEEP IN TOUCH
www.DanielArenson.com
[email protected]
Facebook.com/DanielArenson
Twitter.com/DanielArenson
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