Griffin's Destiny

by Lelsie Ann Moore

  This should have been our home and our child, he thought.

  “Her name is Rose,” Livie said. She pulled a chair up beside him and sat. “She’s just past her second birthday.”

  “She’s beautiful,” Magnes managed to answer. He feared he would sob if he said any more.

  “Sarian is my husband’s son by his first wife,” Livie explained. “She died giving birth to him. I’m the only mother he’s ever known.”

  They both looked up as the boy burst into the room, out of breath and carrying a chunk of smoked meat. Livie stood up, took the bacon from his hands, and carried it to the table. Sarian followed, licking grease from his fingers. Livie sliced the meat, laying the strips on a platter while the boy watched, shifting from foot to foot.

  “C’n I have a piece now, Ma?” he asked.

  “Be patient, love,” Livie replied gently. “Ma’s almost done.”

  “Sarian,” Magnes called out. “Come over here and talk to me.” After a final, lingering glance at the food, the boy spun about and flung himself on the floor at Magnes’ feet. He looked up, regarding his mother’s visitor with all the gravity a seven year old could muster.

  “Are you my uncle?” he asked.

  “No. I’m an old friend of your ma’s,” Magnes replied.

  “D’you know my da?”

  “No. I’ve never met your father, although I’m certain he’s a very good man.” Magnes glanced at Livie, but her face was turned away from him.

  “That’s my sister,” the boy said, pointing at the baby. “She can’t talk so good now, but she’s learnin’. I’m teachin’ her.”

  “That’s just what a big brother is supposed to do, Sarian. Teach his little sister everything he knows.”

  “Supper’s ready,” Livie announced. The boy jumped to his feet and rushed to the table.

  “I’d like to wash my hands first,” Magnes said.

  “Sarian, show our guest to the basin.”

  “Awww, Ma, I wanna eat…” Livie’s frown cut short the boy’s complaint. “C’mon,” he huffed, beckoning to Magnes with a wave of his small hand.

  Stifling a chuckle, Magnes followed the child outside. Sarian led him around the house to a stone basin filled with water. Magnes rinsed his hands and face, and after a moment’s hesitation, Sarian followed suit.

  When they returned, Livie had laid out a simple meal of bacon, cheese, bread and apples on the round oak table. A dish of fresh butter and blackberry preserves for the bread, a jug of beer for the grown-ups and milk for the children completed the repast. Magnes took a chair beside Sarian while Livie seated herself opposite, cradling baby Rose on her lap.

  She handed Magnes a plate. “Why are you here, Magnes?” she asked, and for the first time since he had arrived, he sensed her emotions.

  She’s furious but trying hard not to lose control.

  Magnes chewed and swallowed a mouthful of bacon before answering. “I needed to talk to someone who knows me better than I know myself,” he replied softly.

  “And you thought that someone was me?” Livie’s biting tone cut him like the jagged edge of a broken mirror, adding to his already prodigious collection of mental wounds.

  “Whatever you think I’ve done, or didn’t do, please know I’m so very sorry.”

  “It’s too late for regrets.” Livie sighed.

  “I can’t change the past, but you don’t know the whole truth.” Magnes paused to collect his thoughts before continuing. “My father told me just before…before he died, that he had deliberately lied to you to make you think I’d tossed you aside. He did that to us. He thought if I believed I’d lost you, I’d go meekly into a marriage with a girl I loathed. He was wrong, and all of us paid dearly.”

  Livie’s face crumpled as he spoke and tears spilled down her cheeks. “Why are you telling me this now?” she whispered.

  “Because I need you to understand what happened. I never abandoned you or stopped loving you.”

  Livie covered her face with her hands.

  Sarian watched, wide-eyed. “Don’t be sad, Ma,” he said, laying a hand on her forearm. “Da will be home soon.”

  “Yes, love. I know.” Livie wiped her eyes on the hem of her apron, then took a long drink from her beer mug. Magnes remained silent, sensing she needed to just sit for a while.

  Finally, Livie spoke. “Sarian, take your sister and go sit by the hearth. Ma needs to talk her friend about grown-up things.”

  “But I haven’t finished supper yet.” The boy stuck out his lower lip.

  “Take your plate and cup first, then come back for your sister. Go on now.” Livie brushed gentle fingers through the child’s dark hair. With a huff, the boy did as he was told.

  After both children had settled out of earshot, Livie said, “My husband and I have made a good life for ourselves. Our pottery business is thriving. Our children are strong and healthy. When I came to Greenwood to marry Jonus, I swore to myself I’d give my entire heart to him, make the effort to love him as he deserved to be loved, and for the most part, I’ve kept that vow.” She regarded Magnes with eyes grown hard.

  “I’m not here to complicate your life, I swear. I’ve come only because I need your help.” He let all the pain and desperation tearing apart his life bleed into his voice.

  For an instant, he feared she would refuse him, but then Livie shook her head and her expression softened. “Of course I’ll help you, Magnes. Just tell me how.”

  “I know my father’s death was an accident, but I still blame myself and it’s destroying me,” he murmured. “I nearly jumped off Amsara’s wall the other day. The only reason I’m alive now is because a guard stopped me.”

  Livie’s hands flew to her mouth. After a few moments, she relaxed and laid a hand atop his. “I am so thankful that guard was there to stop you. I don’t know if I could have borne it if you’d…” Her voice sank to a rough whisper.

  “I just want the pain to go away. I thought I’d come to terms with what I’d done, found some peace, but it was an illusion. The monstrous nature of what I did denies me any hope of forgiveness!”

  “It’s time for you to put this all behind you and get on with living.”

  Magnes shook his head. “If only it were that easy.”

  Livie closed her eyes and caught her lower lip between her teeth, a gesture Magnes recognized. She always did that when wrestling with a difficult decision.

  Rose’s happy squeal broke the stillness. Livie’s eyes flew open, all traces of uncertainty gone. She stood, then went to retrieve the baby from the hearth. As she placed Rose on his lap, startled, Magnes looked into Livie’s face and saw the truth.“Gods,” he whispered.

  Livie nodded. “We made her on the last night we were together, just before you left with your cousin. I knew I was pregnant when I came to Greenwood to marry Jonus.” She returned to her chair, then rested her chin in her hand. The anger Magnes had sensed smoldering just below the surface had gone, replaced now by wistful sadness.

  “Does your husband know?”

  “Yes. I mean, I think he knew all along, but Jonus is the kindest, most decent man I’ve ever known. He’s never said a word of reproach, and he loves Rose with all his heart.”

  And I love him. Magnes did not need to hear Livie say the words to know they lived in her heart, unspoken but very real.

  He laid his cheek against Rose’s head and breathed in her sweet aroma. Something shifted within him, and the crushing weight of despair began to ease. He turned Rose so he could look into her face, and within her eyes, he saw his salvation.

  “Maaaan,” Rose said, pointing a finger at Magnes, and for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, he had no wish to die.

  “Your husband is truly blessed to have such a fine family,” he murmured. “I understand why you hesitated to tell me about her,” he added, indicating the baby with a glance. “You have nothing to worry about. I promise I’ll make no claims. Just knowing she’s here, that there’s a part of me ali
ve outside myself…it’s enough.”

  Tears had started in Livie’s eyes again. She reached out and drew him close and they sat together, their child cradled between them. “I wasn’t going to tell you,” Livie whispered, “but then you asked for my help, and I saw how much pain you were in. I knew the only thing that could save you was your daughter.” She laid a hand against Magnes’ stubble-roughened cheek. He turned his face to kiss her palm.

  “Thank you,” he said.

  “Ma.” Sarian tugged at Livie’s sleeve.

  “What is it, sweetheart?” She dabbed her eyes and turned to look at the boy.

  “May I have some honey cake?”

  Magnes noticed a few telltale crumbs sticking to the child’s mouth. “Looks like you’ve already helped yourself, young man,” he observed, then laughed at the boy’s sheepish expression. It felt good to laugh, after so many bleak, despair-filled weeks.

  Livie smiled. “Yes, my love, you may have a little more honey cake.”

  “Doooown!” Rose squawked and struggled to get out of Magnes’ arms. He obligingly lowered her to the floor and she toddled off after her big brother.

  “I should be getting back to Amsara,” Magnes said. He didn’t relish the all-night ride, but knew he couldn’t stay.

  Livie nodded in agreement.

  Magnes pulled open the cottage door and stepped into warm night. Crickets shrilled in the trees. The big black dog, who had been asleep against the side of the house, woke up with a whuff and climbed ponderously to his feet. He ambled over to sniff Magnes’ boots. Magnes reached down and scratched behind the dog’s floppy ears, receiving a satisfied grunt in reply.

  “I know I wasn’t very welcoming earlier,” Livie began softly, “but it was a shock, seeing you at my gate after…”

  “You don’t have to explain. I understand.”

  “It really is good to see you.”

  Magnes held out his hands and Livie took them without hesitation.

  “My sister is an excellent commander. She’ll look out for her levies as best she can. Hopefully, this war will be over soon and Jonus will return to you, safe and whole,” he said.

  “Magnes…” Livie’s voice faltered and she hung her head. The darkness hid her tears, but he could taste them on her cheek as he kissed her.

  “Thank you for my daughter and my life,” he whispered. He turned and crossed the yard with quick steps.

  Livie followed and stood beside the gate as he mounted Storm. “Take care of yourself,” she said. “Try to find some happiness.”

  “I’ll try. I mean, I will,” he replied. He turned Storm’s head and urged him forward. The big horse snorted and stepped out smartly, eager to move after standing still for so long. Magnes turned once to look back, but if Livie still watched, the shadows hid her from his sight.

  He had wanted to say so much more to her, but mere words could never convey what filled his heart. He fervently hoped she understood just what she had done for him.

  I have a daughter and her name is Rose!

  He wanted to shout that name from the highest mountaintop.

  The moon rode at the top of the tree line, a silver half-disk, shedding just enough light to see by. Storm loped easily along the well-worn path, sure-footed in the dimness. With each hoof beat, Magnes felt a bit more of his depression crack and fall away. His soul had been imprisoned for so long, this new-found joy felt odd and a little frightening. He knew now that the peace he thought he had found while living with the Eskleipans had been nothing more than numbness. The pain had always been there, festering just beneath the surface. His homecoming had merely hastened its inevitable release.

  Livie had given him the most precious of gifts—a reason to live. Even knowing his child would be raised by another man did not diminish his gratitude.

  Our love made that baby, he thought. A love that’s changed, true enough, but it’s still there. Someday, when the time is right, Livie will tell Rose about me.

  Shortly after sunrise, Magnes retired to his bed and for the first time in many weeks, he fell asleep without the aid of drink. He dreamed he danced with a merry little dark-haired girl, and the next morning, he awoke with a smile on his lips.

  Reunited

  Ashinji dreamed he stood within the hollow heart of a mountain. Sharp spires of rock, some thrusting from the floor, others hanging like swords from the ceiling, hemmed him from all sides. Though total darkness should reign here, a ruddy glow bathed the stones in hues of blood.

  How and why he had come to this place, he could not guess. He took a step forward…

  …and stumbled across a body lying on the uneven floor. Cautiously, he bent over the prone figure, but a shadow obscured its features.

  A voice whispered in his ear. “You must do this, Ashi. There is no other way.”

  Ashinji started and spun toward the sound.

  Gran stepped from behind a pillar, a wickedly curved blade in her hand.

  “Gran! What are you doing here?”

  “You know what has to be done,” the old mage replied, holding out the knife as if she expected him to take it.

  “I don’t understand, Gran. Please…” Ashinji begged, but his plea died on his lips as a second figure emerged from the darkness.

  “Son, take the blade and strike before it is too late! The Nameless One approaches!” Amara pointed to the body lying on the floor.

  “You must release the Key now!”

  That voice belonged to regal, auburn-haired Princess Taya, who had materialized by his side. An enormous ruby glowed like a baleful red eye at her breast.

  Confusion and fear muddled Ashinji’s thoughts as a fourth mage joined the circle, a woman of sinister beauty crowned with a mane of flame-red hair. She crouched beside the body at his feet. Tiny red sparks flared within the jade depths of her eyes.

  Every instinct within Ashinji cried out in warning. “Sonoe! No, you stay away!”

  “I can’t. Her fate is sealed. This is the only way.” Sonoe’s pale hand caressed the unseen face.

  “She will not suffer, Son,” Amara promised. “Better that it be done by someone she loves.”

  Ashinji’s fingers curved around cold steel. Somehow, the knife had found its way into his hand.

  “Do it now! It is almost too late!” Gran urged.

  Ashinji stared in mounting horror at the circle of faces surrounding him.

  The shadows drew back to reveal the identity of the sacrifice.

  He screamed in horror…

  …and bolted upright in bed, choking.

  When the spasms had subsided and he could breathe again, Ashinji collapsed back onto the bed, shaking like a man in the grip of a fever. Never before had he experienced a vision so powerful, so absolute in its feeling of inescapability.

  No! I can’t let this happen!

  He crawled from the tangle of bedclothes and sat, naked and shivering, by the window of his chamber until the residue of the vision had dissipated. The fading stars heralded the coming dawn; returning to bed now would be pointless.

  Besides, the sooner I get dressed and ready, the sooner Gran and I can leave for Sendai, and the sooner I’ll be reunited with…

  “Jelena,” he whispered. The mere sound of her name evoked the feel of her skin, the taste of her lips.

  He went to fetch his clothes.

  ***

  “There’s a lot about this ritual you haven’t told me, Gran,” Ashinji accused, his voice tight with anger. “I want the truth. All of it.”

  Gran sighed. “Ashi, I withheld certain aspects of the Ritual of Sundering from you because I didn’t want to burden you with that knowledge too soon.”

  “So you thought you’d just spring it on me when the time came, is that it?” Ashinji’s voice rose to a near shout. “I’m supposed to kill my own wife! If you think I’ll meekly go along with any of this, you are mistaken!”

  A light breakfast had been set out for them in the main sitting room of the Sakehera family quarters.
Gran sat on Lady Amara’s favorite couch, an untouched sweet bun in her hand, while Ashinji paced in a tight circle, body rigid with fury.

  “Listen to me,” Gran commanded. Ashinji stopped pacing but kept her at his back. “I still believe we can save Jelena, but it will take all of our collective skill as high mages to do so,” Gran explained.

  Ashinji rounded on her, white-knuckled. “That’s supposed to make me feel better?” he spat. “You expect me to plunge a knife into my wife’s heart. Her blood will be on my hands. Can you give me any assurance that you and my mother and whoever else belongs to this…this Kirian Society, can resurrect her?”

  “No,” Gran replied, shaking her head. “We tread where none of us has gone before. The forces we will be dealing with, the enemy we face…no mage of our generation has ever been tested thus. What I can tell you is this; only through Jelena’s death can we stop the Nameless One.”

  “No! I won’t accept that!” Ashinji collapsed into a chair and buried his face in his hands.

  “I am so very sorry, Ashi, but none of us has any choice,” Gran murmured. “If the Nameless One prevails, he will bring unspeakable horror and desolation to this world, and all living things will become his slaves, reduced to hideous, twisted imitations of what they once were. Your mother and I, along with our fellow Kirians, have sworn an oath. We are prepared to do whatever it takes to defeat this enemy.” Gran emphasized the last words as if to impress upon him the strength of her resolve.

  “But why must it be me?” Ashinji looked at the elderly mage with tear-filled eyes. “Why must I strike the blow?”

  “The Society is at its lowest ebb in all of our recorded history, for reasons we only partly understand,” Gran explained. “To perform a Working of this magnitude, there should be at least twelve trained mages in the circle. When I left Alasiri, only eight active members of the Society remained, three of whom were much older than I am now. I don’t know how many are left, but at the most, it’s probably five, counting myself. Five is simply not enough.” She paused to let the effect of her words take hold. “You have prodigious Talent, Ashi,” she continued. “We need your strength added to ours if we are to succeed. Even though you are untrained, we can direct you. You will act as both an amplifier and a conduit for our magic.”