The Children of Isador

by Sam J. Charlton

  She looked radiant.

  The bounty hunter was staring straight ahead as he rode. His face was an inscrutable mask. He carried a sword at his side and although his body was relaxed in the saddle, his demeanor did not invite anyone to approach him.

  Neither Dael nor Myra saw Jennadil and he was grateful for it. He watched them ride away, and then he took a side street and walked up to the wall dividing the city’s third and second level. There he climbed gingerly, taking care on the icy steps.

  Slightly out of breath, Jennadil reached the top of the wall. The winter landscape unfolded before him. The snow was melting but patches of white still dotted the Endaar Downs, like dollops of thick cream, until the grasslands merged with the horizon.

  Jennadil stood on the wall, welcoming the sun and the crisp air. Finally, he saw, far below, a tiny figure emerge from the citadel. The horse crossed the highway and broke into a brisk canter across the Downs. He watched them until the horse was nothing but a speck in the distance. Jennadil was smiling when he turned and descended from the wall—Myra had not only lived but she was free. The guilt he had carried ever since their last meeting lifted and for the first time since he had awoken in the House of Healing, Jennadil felt his heart lighten.

  Jennadil walked slowly back up to the palace, passing as he did so, many townsfolk who called out to him and waved. They all hailed him as their liberator these days. None of them knew about the evil he and Adelyis had set free in order to rid Falcon’s Mount of the Tarzark.

  Jennadil’s lightness of heart dissipated and his stomach clenched. Fear was never far from him these days. He would not stay here much longer. Lord Fire had asked him to remain and rebuild Ellenrith, the great Orinian School of Wizardry, but Jennadil had refused. He was still a young man, a month off completing his thirty-fifth winter; an adolescent in a craft where a wizard reached his full power at around seventy and often lived two centuries or more.

  Instead, the solitude and peace of Delm Forest called to Jennadil Silverstern. He remembered well the promise he had made himself—the wisdom of the ancient forest had much to teach him. He would leave Falcon’s Mount soon and he doubted he would return. Gywna, Will and Aran Fire knew of his decision, but he planned to slip away unnoticed. Right now though, he had other people to bid farewell. Lassendil was leaving Falcon’s Mount that afternoon and beginning the long journey back to the Ennadil Territory and Taz was departing, returning south-east to his kin in the Forest of Gremul.

  Jennadil walked up the last slope towards the palace gates and as he did so, a vast shadow slipped across the sun. The wizard froze and looked upwards. Around him, people shouted and cried out in alarm.

  A huge bird of prey, a vast silvery blue owl, glided across the city and circled the palace’s highest towers. Jennadil gasped. He had heard of these fabled birds. The giant blue owls of the Saffira Mountains were a part of Isador’s folklore. Few people had ever seen one of these creatures and one had never been sighted this far north.

  The wizard hurried into the palace’s courtyard as the giant owl swooped down and perched on the top of the palace’s outer wall. A group of people had gathered, Gywna Brin and Will Stellan among them, to gaze upon the bird. They stood in reverent silence and stared up at the creature while it surveyed them with large, unblinking golden eyes. Its gaze fixed on Jennadil when he moved to the front of the crowd.

  As if the giant blue owl had not shocked them enough by its arrival at Falcon’s Mount, the bird then spoke. Its voice was soft and gentle. “Does Lassendil Florin still live?”

  Jennadil gaped at the bird before recovering his wits enough to respond. “He does.”

  The bird blinked and cocked its head slightly. “With him I wish to speak.”

  Jennadil turned to Taz, who had materialized next to him. “Have you seen Lassendil?”

  “He’s in the stables, readying his horse. I’ll find him.” The Gremul disappeared and the owl remained perched on the wall.

  It studied Jennadil intently. “You are a wizard,” it observed.

  “I am,” Jennadil replied, “for what it’s worth.”

  “Grey-Wing!” Lassendil burst through the crowd with Taz on his tail.

  Jennadil turned to Lassendil in surprise. “You know this bird?”

  “He saved my life at Aranith,” Lassendil explained before staring up at the giant blue owl, his eyes shining. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come to take you home,” the owl hooted, “the Ennadil Territory is now free of the Morg but they have left destruction and famine behind them. Your people have no leader. They need you.”

  The joy faded from Lassendil’s face.

  “You have seen what they have done?”

  “I have and it is terrible. It will take you weeks to reach your home from here on horseback. With me it will take little more than two days.”

  Lassendil stared at the owl for a moment before he nodded.

  “Let me get my things and we can leave now.”

  By this time, quite a crowd had gathered. Aran and Imeldia Fire had joined the group. People talked excitedly amongst themselves at this news while Will, Taz and Jennadil spoke in hushed tones with the City-Lord and his wife.

  No one noticed Gywna Brin had slipped to the edge of the crowd.

  Gywna watched Lassendil disappear into the palace and felt her stomach plummet. He was leaving. Few words had passed between them since their confrontation in the mortuary. He probably thought she hated him but she did not. She regretted her angry words, but they could not be taken back and she was too proud to apologize.

  Presently, Lassendil returned; this time with a pack slung across his shoulders, his quiver and arrows strapped to his back and his sword at his waist. The owl flapped its wings, causing a draught of air to buffet against the onlookers, and hopped from the wall, landing in the center of the courtyard.

  The crowd fell back. Everyone kept a respectful distance from the giant owl. The bird’s massive clawed feet and curved beak were arched and strong and its eyes were round and bright as two gold coins. Its feathers gleamed many shades of blue and silver in the midday sun; up close it was magnificent.

  Lassendil walked up to Grey-Wing and turned to speak to Aran Fire. The City-Lord stepped forward and unexpectedly clasped Lassendil in a bear hug.

  “Falcon’s Mount and the Orinian people are eternally grateful to you.” Lord Fire released Lassendil. “You and your sister’s bravery will be remembered by us. We will build a memorial to honor her. I hope we can forge better relations between the Orinian and Ennadil people for we must work together to rebuild Isador.”

  Lassendil nodded and he smiled gently. “I hope for that as well. I wish you and your people good fortune.”

  Aran Fire smiled back. “Thank you Lassendil.”

  Lassendil turned to where Taz, Will and Jennadil stood together. He smiled at them and bowed in the Ennadil fashion.

  “You are three of the bravest individuals I have ever met,” he said gently. “I know you share my grief over Adelyis. Do not blame yourselves, for you did all you could to protect her. I will never forget that.”

  Taz nodded solemnly. Next to him, Will met Lassendil’s steady gaze and a look of understanding passed between the two men. However, when Lassendil’s gaze shifted to Jennadil, the wizard looked away, his face creased with sadness.

  Finally, Lassendil’s gaze moved across the crowd and fastened on a young woman who was trying to hide herself at the back.

  “Before I take my leave there is someone else I must say good-bye to.”

  Gywna shrank back when she saw Lassendil making his way through the crowd towards her. Everyone turned to look and Gywna felt her face grow hot under the curious stares.

  It was too late to hide and Gywna’s father had not brought her up to shun the limelight. She raised her chin imperiously and took a deep breath. Then, she forced herself to meet Lassendil’s eye. Her stomach leaped when she did so.
The Ennadil’s beauty was untouchable and she felt embarrassed for succumbing to her infatuation. She had been a fool.

  Lassendil walked towards her now, his face unreadable. She could not imagine that he had anything pleasant to say to her. However, when Lassendil reached Gywna, he did the last thing she expected.

  Lassendil leant down and kissed her.

  Gywna’s body went rigid but—oblivious to her astonishment—Lassendil drew her towards him and deepened the kiss. Then, he reached forward and cupped her face with his hands. Despite her embarrassment, Gywna melted into his arms.

  Around them, the crowd roared and applauded. Gywna eventually drew back and gazed up at Lassendil; her hazel eyes enormous on her flushed face. He was still holding her against him and his smile made her breath catch in her throat.

  “What possessed you?” Gywna gasped. “I thought Ennadil didn’t put on displays like this.”

  “We don’t—but I thought it was time I broke with tradition.” Lassendil looked deep into Gywna’s eyes before he continued. “I didn’t want to leave with regrets.”

  With that, he kissed her again. This time, Gywna wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back. The crowd roared, loving the spectacle. After the pain and horror of recent times and the long, cold winter such a display warmed their souls. Jennadil and Will wolf-whistled and clapped, and even Aran Fire joined in.

  Lassendil finally released Gywna and gently stroked her cheek. Then, he turned and walked back to Grey-Wing. The owl had been observing the scene with interest but it made no comment as Lassendil climbed up onto its back.

  Gywna moved to the front of the crowd and stood next to Jennadil. Her elation had already started to fade—Lassendil was leaving and he was not taking her with him. She might never see him again. She fought the childish urge to beg Lassendil to take her with him, knowing he would refuse.

  Lassendil looked down at her and smiled enigmatically. “Good-bye Gywna.”

  Gywna felt tears burn down her cheeks and she angrily brushed them away. Meeting Lassendil’s gaze, she forced a smile, not trusting herself to speak.

  Suddenly the giant blue owl lifted its wings and took off. The blast of air nearly knocked Gywna off her feet. Jennadil put his arm around her shoulders to steady her and kept his arm there in comfort as they watched Grey-Wing and Lassendil circle the palace once. Then, the giant owl headed south-west towards the Ennadil Territory.

  Gywna watched Lassendil disappear into a tiny speak in the sky. She leaned against Jennadil, feeling as if she had been punched in the stomach. “I don’t understand,” she whispered. “Why did he kiss me and then leave?”

  Jennadil sighed. “Gywna,” he said gently, but not without a trace of wry humor in his voice. “That’s what men do.”

  “What he means is that we’re born cowards,” Will Stellan added. “The best time to kiss a woman is you’re leaving.”

  Gywna wriggled out of Jennadil’s embrace and glared at both the men. “Neither of you are helping!” she snapped.

  “Gywna.” Will reached out and ruffled her hair. “I don’t think you’ve seen the last of Lassendil Florin.”

  Gywna gave Will a jaundiced look. He and Jennadil always found ways to irritate and goad her but nonetheless she was fond of them both. In an odd way their words made her feel better.

  “Since we’ve had one good-bye I think it’s time to add another,” a gruff voice interrupted the trio. Taz stood before them, his meager possessions contained in a small sack attached to a pole he carried over his shoulder. “I have lingered here long enough. My people are waiting for me.”

  “You will be missed my friend.” Will took the horny hand the Gremul offered him and shook it. “I know you fought with us to protect your own but you stayed on when you needn’t have. We will never forget that.”

  “Can we provide you with a horse?” Aran Fire stepped forward.

  The Gremul shook his head. “I prefer traveling on foot. The Forest of Gremul lies only three days journey from here.”

  “Good-bye, Taz.” Jennadil shook the Gremul’s hand, followed by Aran Fire. Gywna stepped forward and hugged Taz. The Gremul growled softly but did not pull away. His yellow eyes gleamed when Gywna stepped back from him.

  They watched Taz leave the palace courtyard. He cut an odd figure framed by the gateway—a shaggy ball of russet fur with sinewy yellow arms and legs. The Gremul walked with a springy step, eager to return to the shadowy green of the forest and to recount all which had befallen him since his capture.

  Will, Jennadil and Gywna were sad to see him go but they could see their friend was happy to be returning home. Gywna felt hollow as she watched Taz disappear through the gate.

  One by one, her friends were deserting her.

  ***

  The full moon rose over Falcon’s Mount. Silvery light filtered into Gywna’s bedchamber through the window and pooled on the stone floor. Gywna could not sleep. She had lain in there for hours trying to relax her mind and body but sleep was far away. Finally, she sat up and swung her legs out of bed; wincing as her bare feet touched the icy floor. She fumbled for her slippers, put them on and pulled on her cloak over her long nightdress.

  Gywna did not want to be alone with her thoughts. Unlike the others, she had no idea what direction her future would take. Lassendil had returned to the Ennadil Territory and Taz to the Forest of Gremul. Will would soon take a group of soldiers with him back to Serranguard to start rebuilding the city-state and Jennadil was planning to live a hermit’s existence in Delm Forest.

  Soon they would all be gone.

  The palace slumbered as Gywna padded through the shadowed hallways on slippered feet. She made her way down to the first floor, to the library Jennadil had been using as a bedchamber during his convalescence. His door was slightly ajar and a warm light glowed from within. Gywna knocked before pushing the door open and poking her head inside.

  Jennadil Silverstern stood in the center of the library. He was fully dressed and wearing a forest green cloak. He had been busy packing a bag when Gywna entered.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” she demanded.

  “Don’t sneak up on people like that,” Jennadil snapped. “My nerves aren’t what they used to be. You’ll stop my heart.”

  “I knocked. Anyway, you didn’t answer my question. Where do you think you’re going?”

  Jennadil sighed and gave her a long-suffering look. “I told you I was leaving.”

  “You didn’t say you were planning to sneak away without saying good-bye to anyone.”

  “It’s better this way. I hate good-byes. After today I can’t face anymore.”

  Gywna came inside and shut the door behind her. “Why do you have to leave Jennadil? Lord Fire has asked you to stay.”

  “I can’t.” Jennadil stuffed the last book into the heavy pack and pulled the drawstring closed at the top. “I feel suffocated here.”

  Gywna sat down on the bed and looked down at her hands.

  “Don’t look so miserable Gywna.” Jennadil came over and sat next to her. “I get on your nerves. You should be rejoicing at my departure.”

  “You’re not so bad,” Gywna replied quietly. “I’m not the easiest person to be around at times either.”

  Jennadil reached out and hugged her. His cloak was scratchy and smelt of leaves and moss. Gywna pushed back the tears that had been lingering since Lassendil left and pulled herself together. “I know you’re not happy here,” she admitted. “It’s just that when you and Will leave, I’ll be on my own and I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with my life.”

  “What has Lord Fire said?”

  “He wants me to rebuild the Temple of Ancestral Wraiths in Brenna.” Gywna pulled a face.

  “I take it you don’t find the idea very appealing?”

  “I know the Temple is a vital part of our culture but I am not the right person to rebuild it. I was a disaster as a Guardian—my father knew it too. The only reason I wa
s there was to keep me out of his way. I’ve tried explaining this to Lord Fire but he isn’t convinced.”

  Jennadil nodded. His expression was thoughtful. “Perhaps you didn’t fit in the way it was, but remember what Arridel told you about the Guardians of Isador. They were once warrior maidens who protected Isador from peril. By the time your father sent you to the Temple they had become an outdated, reclusive sect that saw more value in prayer and guarding a flame than protecting this land. You could change that.”

  Gywna stared at him, before the full implication of what he was suggesting sunk in. She felt a flicker of excitement ignite at the base of her stomach. “You mean I could bring it back to the way it once was.”

  “You could.”

  “But it’s an enormous job, and would take years of hard work.”

  “You’re young my dear. You’ve got time.”

  Jennadil got up, hitched the heavy pack onto his shoulders and picked up his staff. Gywna looked up into his kind hazel-green eyes and saw that he was serious. He really did believe she was capable of rebuilding the Temple of Ancestral Wraiths.

  Gywna stood up and started to follow him as he made for the door but Jennadil stopped and turned to her. “It is better if we say our good-byes here,” he said gently. “I told you I’m no good at them.”

  “So what are you going to do? Hide out in Delm Forest like a hermit. Won’t you get lonely?”

  Jennadil smiled. “Delm Forest is a magical place, Gywna. I’m the last of my kind now and there is still much I have to learn. I wasn’t a great student when I studied under Arridel. It’s about time I took my job seriously.”

  “You think I should do the same?”

  Jennadil reached out and took Gywna’s hands in his. “We did not ask for the responsibility, but if we had not faced Morgarth Evictar, Isador would have fallen. Our role as this land’s protectors has not ended because the enemy has been defeated. You and I have no family left—but we are still the children of Isador. Someone has to watch over her.” Jennadil leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on Gywna’s forehead. “You’re a special girl Gywna. The path ahead of you may be difficult at times but it will have its rewards.”