by K. A. Lentz
Similar to Thistle—yet distinctly different—Miach had also been struck by an overwhelming sensation of potential. For him, the feeling churned around a core of… something within. Purpose pulsed behind his eyes as he looked down at Thistle and thought; I am her guardian and she the earth’s protector, my seer was right; I found you again Tanfana.
A warm pressure harmlessly burned upon their palms as the couple affirmed within their minds; we will right this world. And each heard the other. Both reacted differently to this strange turn of events; Miach’s brow shot up, yet otherwise retained his peaceful expression. Thistle’s reaction was one of surprise and mirth. Smiling and laughing, her jaw dropped to capacity however her reactive curiosity was faster than Miach’s. Remaining within the confines of this new conversation media, she asked, “Did you just think you would right this world?”
The storm-slave’s response was telling; his brow furrowed as he replied aloud, “Yes, indeed I did.”
His words echoed and glided along the air, soft and gentle as they bounced around their slowly shrinking bubble. As the spell seemingly drew to a close the couple agreed to speak on everything that had taken place sometime later when they were alone.
Old Grandma and Pyhe had stopped chanting as suddenly as they had started, silently watching the budding couple with a contented smile. In the background Friend gave his watery blessing before slowly descending into the river’s shadowy depths. Feeling the loss of their cocoon, Thistle and Miach released each other’s hand and turned to face the gnomish pair. Thistle opened her mouth to speak but Old Grandma cut-in-line addressing them both, “Hear each other now you will until you cannot hear each other in life, traits given guardians and higher realms. Be wise and forever compassionate. Fate shines upon all.”
Looking only at Thistle, she said in a sorrowful tone, “I take big Amy, only good-bye for now… paths to cross again is the promise.”
Thistle looked down at Amy waiting beside her feet. Most of the little pug’s life she had never been far from Thistle, and now she was going so far away Thistle couldn’t even fathom where she was headed. Thick tears welled in her eyes as she knelt down to her furry friend. Sensing she was about to be pet, the perky pug jumped onto her human’s bent leg and flashed her best doggie smile. In response Thistle picked Amy up and hugged the little dog tight to her heart as though it might be her last… just in case it was. Small sobs escaped as she somberly requested, “Please take care of her for me… if I don’t make it out of this.” Addressing her beloved pup once more she whispered, “Bye my little one, be good.”
With a gentle smile Old Grandma replied, “As one of the clan we treat her.” Then, looking down at the jovial dog, she plainly stated, “Time big Amy.”
Acting as though she understood, Amy jumped from Thistle’s arms and followed Old Grandma to the spot Pyhe stood waiting. Looking back only once, the little pug happily trotted through the wide opening—made just for her—and into the narrowing passageways of Pyhe’s gnomish tunnel. Having made certain her loved ones escaped safely, Old Grandma planted her tiger lily and gracefully exited after the pair. As her beautiful flower shriveled up and wilted away, the aging bloom hilariously echoed a single, saucy pug bark fading into the distance.
Syheran was the first elf to walk forward with congratulations sparkling in his eyes, yet as he extended his hand four more guests arrived at the top of the steps on the far side of the patio, interrupting his cheers. A single occupant within their ranks halted with rage as he saw the groom; a near perfect image of himself. Tahlan roared his disapproval at the sight of Miach, drawing the attention of every observer. Kaiyssa immediately followed her mate’s gaze and gasped at the object of his fury. Dominus—ever ready for a battle—drew both of his imposing weapons, yet Aginaeus understood what events were about to take place and quickly stayed the warrior’s hand.
Miach closed his eyes in resignation, recognizing the roar’s owner, and turned to face Tahlan. Surprise streaked through the storm-slave as he caught sight of Commander Aginaeus standing within the wood-elf’s company. Positioning Thistle behind him with a slight nudge toward Syheran, the bold familiar took an offensive step forward, yet said nothing.
Years of anger boiled out as Tahlan thundered his intent, “IT IS TIME SLAVE! I HAVE COME TO RECLAIM MY BROTHER!”
Tired of his adversary’s stubbornness Miach coolly replied, “It is of no use, you cannot take this body by any means you possess, and you know it Tahlan. Give up this quest and move on with your life!”
None of Miach’s reasoning reached Tahlan’s wrathful mind, each syllable spoken taunted him all the more. A deadly tone poisoning his voice, the wood-elf growled, “You befoul my brother’s body, and I will reclaim it!”
Tahlan started to advance on Miach—making good on his issued threat—yet each footfall was hindered by Kaiyssa’s efforts to root him to the spot. The forest-lord paid her no mind, acting as if he normally struggled to take a step while continuing to rage, “You will not return to your master, slave! No, this day you sleep with the dead!”
Kaiyssa knew that physical restraint was merely slowing him down and decided it was time to take on a more aggressive approach. Though tough at first, she forced herself into a calming, meditative state and—much to her regret—prepared to sing her mate into submission.
Meanwhile Miach continued to reason with his adversary, “Patience and time will reclaim your brother’s shell from this fate. I am sure… one day soon… an end will come to my link with this body, but not yet, and so I ask for understanding until such time you can reclaim him.”
His anger stirring into a hurricane, Tahlan refused to listen. An incipient burning sparked to life just beneath the forest-lord’s right eye, yet he refused to heed its warning. His voice was contorted by loathing as he fumed, “I do not bargain with the minions of Reapers!”
No longer slowed by Kaiyssa’s interference, Tahlan’s footfalls were strong and determined as he descended the stone steps and advanced on his enemy. Miach suddenly felt a strange sensation rising-up from within and—whatever it was—decided to heed it. As he released control the hunter lurking below boldly came to the surface. Pulling his robes over his head, the storm-slave stood clad in a simple loin-cloth preparing himself for what was about to take place. Unexpectedly he was struck by an overwhelming urge to roar back and elected to unleash the need upon his enemy while thundering his intent, “YOU WILL LISTEN!!”
The end of his sentence was punctuated by an earsplitting wave of concussive force. All within the vicinity physically braced themselves against his onslaught, all but Kaiyssa. She had finally gained her mental focus, beginning her song’s first note, when Miach’s roar sent her sailing onto the flat of her back. Standing tall Tahlan searched for his mate and was infuriated all the more to find her staggering to her feet, forcing air back into her lungs. The forest-lord faced his adversary, deadly promise crackling from his piercing gaze as he started forward once more, weapons drawn.
Many around the groom had already taken notice of his emerging transformation. At first it was subtle changes; claws, fangs, however the more his adversary advanced… the more distinctive the differences became. His muscle groups began to grow and remold. Rapidly he gained height and size, all the while wearing an expression of unwavering defiance upon his morphing features.
Nearly the size of a horse, he stood before them all as a relic of ancient myth. His new avatar resembling the physique of a lion, Miach’s feline features were framed by a shadow-black mane that washed over the crest of his shoulders and tapered down his creamy, white back. There was no signature tuft at the end of his stout tail, instead three rows of long, obsidian barbs waited to be fired at any unlucky target. Tahlan froze in amazement, Dominus raised his swords anew, and Aginaeus was so awe struck she didn’t try to stop him. Syheran continued to hold onto a thoroughly stunned Thistle as the remaining wedding party quickly vanished behind nearby trees. Kaiyssa was the only one trying to ignore the spe
ctacle as she worked hard to regain mental composure through a strong vibe of stunned amazement circulating around the patio.
Miach awaited his adversary’s reaction. Tahlan remained still as a fresh wave of fear chiseled at his resolve, yet the stubborn elf refused to give in. Closing his eyes, he dropped into a crouch and put a single hand onto the stone tiles at his feet. In an instant the ground beneath Miach turned liquid. A frustrated roar escaped the descending storm-slave as he was plunged into a column of muddy waters. The ready forest-lord quickly hardened the ground above, yet mere seconds passed before a seriatim of lightning bolts split the air and broke through the top of Miach’s prison. Each onlooker could see the outline of a lion lurking within the dissipating dust-cloud, just before he prowled into view. Miach paced back and forth rumbling a deep, menacing growl hoping to warn-off his assailant.
Refusing to loosen his grip on the pain and hatred accumulated through hundreds of years, Tahlan pressed onward with his assault. Rage fueled the flow of magic coursing through his soul as he placed both hands upon the earth. Closing his eyes to concentrate, veins of earthen magic began pulsing shimmery green along the surface of his skin. Immediately the ground quaked with promise. Kaiyssa’s eyes flew open in fear before she ran down the steps after her mate, but it was too late… he had already slipped below the patio’s dusty surface. Again the earth shook and rumbled as it cracked in protest of Tahlan’s enchantment. A tortured scream sounded from below, barely audible through layers of dirt and rock, yet the pain it carried clearly rung within the soul of every listener. Then, without warning, all went alarmingly still. Kaiyssa threw her hands over her mouth as she tearfully waited for Tahlan to reveal what he had done. Without a sound the wood-elf emerged as an armor-clad warrior effortlessly rising up from the ground below. Fused to his skin through each garment, the forest-lord had fashioned a diamond-like suit of stone perfectly molded into a replica of highly functioning plate-armor.
Thistle’s anxiety rising, she fret more and more that all of this was going horribly wrong. Looking around at the square’s remaining occupants she clearly felt the concern hiding behind each awestruck face; Kaiyssa’s the most heartbreaking of all, for there was no wonder hiding her despair.
Everything remained still for what felt like an eternity and then, all at once, the world burst into action. Tahlan drew his swords anew and swiftly sped along the path of vengeance toward his enemy. Miach responded with a menacing roar as he tore off on a collision course with the charging forest-lord. In an instant they were upon each other. The familiar’s lengthy claws grazed the surface of Tahlan’s armor as he reared up for first-strike. Miach’s powerful swipe sent the lithe wood-elf staggering backwards toward the ground, yet his quick feet deftly scrambled to maintain balance. With a leap the forest-lord jumped at his enemy for a well-aimed jab, but again the storm-slave was faster.
Each combatant was rearing for another blow when both were unexpectedly immobilized. Encased in a web of silvery strands, Miach and Tahlan’s translucent prisons appeared hung from invisible strings as each frozen captive hovered inches above the ground. Syheran smiled with learned assurance as he let go of his charge, confident in the budding discovery of her new abilities. Upon realizing the effects of her emotions, Thistle tucked both hands deep into her armpits and stood with sheer astonishment dominating her spider-webbed features.
Kaiyssa’s gaze drifted back and forth between Tahlan and Miach as she walked toward her imprisoned mate. Raising her hand, she held it close to Tahlan’s shell feeling an intense energy emanating from its surface. Sadness for her beloved gnawing at her soul, she felt guilty as a rush of relief flooded her mind; she didn’t have to control him. The deed would’ve left her carrying a burden of guilt she would bear for the remainder of her existence. Bonding with his mind so intimately, so completely, would plunge her into his pool of despair carried so near the surface. Could I handle such pain from my love coupled with the agony of watching him endure the loss of his twin? She was saved from dwelling on further desperate thoughts as Thistle came walking up to stand beside Miach’s ethereal prison.
The compassionate witch felt odd holding the pair in this state. How did I do this? What have I done? Thistle pondered with a shake of her head. One thing she was sure of… she never expected this kind of result. Feeling more than a bit guilty, she touched Miach’s cocoon of energy and inwardly sent her new groom a heartfelt sorry. Without warning the immobilizing spell popped as if no more than a soap-bubble. Still in his altered form, Miach stood on his hind legs with the grace and balance of a humanoid. Thistle looked up into his eyes and saw understanding there. Without fear she rushed up beside him and hugged the only thing available, a giant, furry hip. He returned her gesture by resting one massive paw on her back and praising her actions from within.
Kaiyssa circled Tahlan, debating if she could touch his prison. Will it open for me? Would he be more enraged? Syheran interrupted his friend’s worried thoughts as he approached her side. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he said in a low voice, “There is no need for such worry Kaiyssa, he will soon understand. I have much to tell. Do you think you can control his body long enough to transport him inside our guest quarters? You see, Old Grandma planted flowers of amour around the hut. It will help the truth pass through Tahlan’s wall of rage and pain.”
She would have to do it after all, her heart sank. Taking in a steadying breath, she turned to her longtime friend and said in a matter of fact tone, “Yes I can hold him once this is removed.” Turning to Thistle, she stated with a face hard as stone, “If you can release him at Syheran’s say so, I can make the capture before he has time to react.”
Suddenly feeling the need to bow, Thistle gave a little curtsy and said, “I can do that, no problem. Um… I’m sorry for, uh, freezing him.”
Kaiyssa’s voice was sincere and strong as she quickly corrected her, “No, there is no need for an apology. I thank you both for keeping him from harm.”
Next the wood-elf turned her impassive gaze upon Miach. Hurt and mistrust streaked through her heart, yet she pushed them away and asked, “What is your name? I refuse to address you as slave.”
Miach could hear the disdain bubbling up as she spoke the last word. Without warning he rapidly changed back into his elvish form before bowing with deep respect, “Thank you for asking kind Kaiyssa, my given name is Miach. If you would permit me, I’d like to speak with you and your mate when he is calmed… I’d be very grateful.”
Kaiyssa surveyed him—a little taken aback—for he was not what she had expected. She had tried to keep herself from dwelling on the type of person he was through the last eight-hundred years, but she hadn’t been able help it. At times he had played the monster, others the victim. But as it turned out this poor, tortured soul—trapped in Tahlen’s body—was a true slave. She had learned a hard lesson once about slavery from the humans and dwarves within this realm; they had taught her some were desperate enough to subjugate and devalue another being for their own gain. Deciding to give Miach more trust than Tahlan might allow—or be happy with—she answered confidently, “Though I need you to remain at a distance for now Miach, I promise your chance will come after I’m able to speak with him. Then, you may say all you wish.”
“Again, kind Kaiyssa, thank you.” Miach said in an earnest tone.
Kaiyssa turned to Syheran and instructed, “Please guide the way to their quarters after you have choreographed our actions. Now… are we ready?”
Miach looked at her and quickly added, “Please do not be alarmed as I change back into the manticore while you contain him. I am sincere in my intent not to injure Tahlan.”
An expression of unwavering duty was resolutely stamped upon her face as she replied, “Thank you. Do as you must, Miach, I respect your warning.”
Kaiyssa said no more. She simply turned to face Tahlan and began her last concert for the day. Her intoxicating melody haunted the hearts of every listener far and wide. Its gentle notes spoke of l
ove and longing, contentment and despair. Nearby windows and doors were cracked to better hear Kaiyssa’s beautiful song. As streams of shimmering love wound through the air toward Tahlan, Syheran leaned in next to Thistle’s ear, “Now… set him free.”
Worry peeking its timid head from a hollow within her heart, Thistle reached out and tentatively touched Tahlan’s ethereal cocoon. The proud forest-lord emerged with a thundering roar as his stone-clad feet slammed to the ground. Immediately his keen ears tuned into the haunting melody flowing from Kaiyssa’s throat and moved fast to avoid it. Leaping from view into the canopy of trees, the nimble wood-elf deftly evaded his siren’s song as it struck like a serpent for his heart. Tapping both sides of her elven heritage, Kaiyssa casually waved the crowd of tree branches aside and then drove her song deep into Tahlan’s retreating heart. Grateful she was unable to see his expression beneath cover of armor, the distraught siren completed her task by sending a caressing note into the core of his mind. Puppet to her whim, he could do nothing but keep pace behind her as she sorrowfully followed Syheran. Miach and Thistle lazily trailed behind them all, hurriedly talking within their minds about everything that had just happened. Forgotten in the corner, Aginaeus and Dominus both thought better of participating in Tahlan’s awakening and simply seated themselves atop the patio’s stone steps.
It took the parade of five a few minutes to weave through Japake’s web-like paths until finally filing up to their destination with its ring of sunflower-sized blossoms. Halting outside, Thistle and Miach waited and watched as the elvish trio entered the small, enchanted guesthouse. Once within, the stone-clad elf laid down upon the bed without instruction as his mate took up a seat beside him. Hoping to free Tahlan from his earthen encasement, Kaiyssa touched the crystalline helm shielding his head and requested the stone to melt away. His entire suit crumbled to dust, all except for a jagged shard clinging to his right eye. Atop its stony surface a mercurial vein of geist poison propelled by hatred had spread through the armor, melding flesh to rock. Singing another song in nearly a whisper, Kaiyssa leaned in and gave him freedom of mind while retaining sway over his limbs. Glancing around the hut, Tahlan scanned for Miach before turning his hardened gaze upon Kaiyssa. As he looked at her, peace began to take root within his mind. Fighting the feeling with anger, he questioned, “Why did you stop me Kaiyssa? Why? My love, he was there. Now he is where.” Looking around, he saw the room’s second occupant for the first time, “Syheran? That is… SYHERAN!? He has been in the presence of Syheran?”
