Fallen Emrys

by Lisa Rector

  I couldn’t stand it.

  And Seren was bored, tucked into an outbuilding large enough to house her. In Gorlassar we flew in the summer rains. I’d lean back on Seren and let the droplets cover my body. But not in this chilling drench.

  Meanwhile, I had escaped everyone. The ladies were playing cards in one of the more spacious sitting rooms.

  I was too antsy to sit.

  So I meandered around the corridors, contemplating historic tapestries and paintings, staring out the windows at a great lake that was its own sea. Counting stairs and stones, sconces and curtains.

  Pretending I didn’t have something else entirely on my mind.

  Kelyn.

  The day before we flew all afternoon from town to town. I was delighted to introduce Seren, and I soaked in Kelyn’s support. We were met with trepidation by adults, but children warmed up to Seren immediately.

  I had no fear for her well-being, nor mine.

  That’s not what filled my head as I roamed the corridors with the rain driving its beat into my uneasy heart.

  Kelyn never overcame his fear of flying. I didn’t expect him to, despite the feelings of safety and confidence I sent through him. But his fear of flying wasn’t what stirred my stomach like a swinging pendulum.

  No matter how I pushed the feelings away, I still felt his arms around my waist. Still felt his breath on my neck as Kelyn panted and nearly hyperventilated from terror. He pressed his body to mine as any dragon’s second passenger might, but the experience was different. Because Kelyn was different. His aura laced me with an untempered restlessness. This pained me and thrilled me and confused me enough that I wished I could knock myself out.

  But I couldn’t, so during the restless day after our adventure, I passed bedchambers, stealing through the palace like a criminal. I wrapped my arms across my abdomen and pretended his touch was there.

  No. Wasn’t there. I was unable to make up my mind. As I searched with my light, I knew exactly where Kelyn was. In his study pouring over papers. If he knew what he was doing to me, would he be so engrossed in work?

  In my dreary daytime explorations, I approached the great hall where the men practiced. I debated slipping inside to watch because I had yet to see mortals spar.

  A portrait of Kelyn opposite the hall’s doors distracted me.

  Everything about Kelyn was opposite Aneirin, who was too serious, all clean lines, and smooth curves. I couldn’t ever recall hair on his face. Kelyn joked about everything. He had boyishly good looks. Thick lips and eyebrows. A shadow of scruff across his cheeks and down his neck. I wanted to trace the divot above his mouth until my finger touched his moist lips…

  I gasped.

  The infatuation with Kelyn’s appearance was new to me. My infatuation with Aneirin wasn’t physical. I had an emotional connection with him that I mistook for romantic feelings.

  I’m turned around! I don’t know my head from my heart. I wasn’t sure if I liked the prickling under my skin these mortals caused.

  Seren nagged me with warning. Too soon for romance.

  It’s not romance. I can’t help these encroaching feelings. It’s as if my heart has a mind of its own.

  You’re not used to feeling like this. It’s this mortal world.

  Whispered words of lifelong teachings filtered through my mind. Mortals are corrupted. They will corrupt you. Never leave Gorlassar.

  My father once took me to the snowy ledge and had me look out over the mortal world. I saw only white-capped mountains.

  He pointed. “There is where the evil is. Never go farther than this ledge. Close your eyes and feel the air. A steady pulse of uncertainty and malignant promises beckon. You must not heed them.”

  “What’s out there?” I wanted to see more than the mountains. I wanted to see if mortals were black and ugly. I wanted to know if what my childhood friends whispered about the weaker race was true. That mortals were liars. They were cheats. Their hearts were black. An evil ruled them.

  As I stood on the ledge, I felt the evil. I shivered. My father spoke truth with his words.

  It was unwise to consider leaving Gorlassar. But Kelyn wasn’t evil. Only when I was still, in the very dark of the night, did I feel those vibrations of a wickedness that hummed on the air. That caressed with haunting fingers and planted doubt in my heart.

  Could these humans corrupt me?

  I analyzed my heart-center. My light felt fine, but I didn’t have other immortals’ lights to compare it to.

  I shook my head as I glanced at Kelyn’s portrait again. A tickling in my stomach made me smile, and a flush of heat raced into my face. If anything, my light glowed brighter as I thought about Kelyn. Romance. I almost giggled. This is not romance. This is silly girl feelings.

  I squared my shoulders. Kelyn wasn’t in the great hall. He was busy with princely affairs. The hall was safe, and the sweating men would clear the confusion in my head. Battle had a way of focusing me.

  I paused with my hand on the doorframe. The ladies steered clear of the area when the men engaged each other. Was it a forbidden thing for the ladies to watch the men? Was it deemed inappropriate? Men and women trained together in Gorlassar. That didn’t seem to be the case in Talfryn. Would they run me out of the room? I supposed I wouldn’t be permitted to join them either.

  My face fell. A few men whirled staffs. Others scraped swords against each other. Intriguing. Emrys rarely used weapons. I fought with my light as an extension of my physical self. Weapons were a cumbersome burden.

  Forget what everyone else thought. I didn’t care. I was bold anyway.

  I entered the great hall.

  ***

  “How did I let you talk me into this?” I glared at two dozen men surrounding me in the hall. Kelyn stood at my right with Kenrik at his side. “This is your fault, Kenrik.”

  He held his hands up. “I told Kelyn nothing, as promised.”

  The other day, I simply told Kenrik he’d have more force behind his punch if he changed his footing. He waved me over to show him how, and I complied. As I thought about it, I realized the sweaty debacle was my fault because I had wandered down to the hall, again, bored to tears after two days of rain.

  Bored after watching the men while I hovered near the wall. I was hesitant to join them, but at least they didn’t chase me out of the room.

  Kenrik spent every spare moment catching my eye until I sparred with him. He didn’t think my fighting was unsuitable, and I was glad.

  Everyone wanted a round with me after learning of my skill. So the punching session with Kenrik turned into me dropping a six-foot-tall guard to his knees right as Kelyn strolled in.

  “Niawen!” Kelyn exclaimed.

  I whirled around. “Your Majesty!”

  “I’ve come to fetch Kenrik to council, and here you are crippling my best guard.” He laughed. “You are full of surprises. Indulge me; show me that maneuver.”

  “Later, Kelyn,” Kenrik said. “We shouldn’t keep the council waiting.” He was trying to spare me.

  Kelyn held his hand up. “No. Show me now. This might be the answer I’m seeking.”

  Kenrik questioned Kelyn with his eyes. I moved into position as a guard approached me. With bare hands, I struck him. He blocked. I could tell he wasn’t used to fighting without a weapon.

  After a few passes, the guard crashed to the floor. I was too nimble for him.

  “Again.” Kelyn ordered.

  I engaged another man.

  After I defeated five other men, Kelyn interrupted me. “Niawen, Kenrik, come with me.”

  He strode out of the room after turning on his heel.

  In council, King Sieffre and Kelyn were devising a plan to stop the looting in the north from a local rabble that had become more than a nuisance. Their leader wanted control of Lord Mathonwy’s northwestern province, which consisted of half a dozen towns and the farmlands between them.

  Kelyn maintained that his father should send a unit of special soldiers
to seek the rabble’s haunts in the Alwyn Foothills. After quizzing me on my numerous skills, which included tracking, hunting, and stealth, among other talents, Kelyn brimmed with the idea of me training his men.

  Kenrik couldn’t hide his amused expression while Kelyn gabbed. I believed Kenrik was thrilled that for once he knew something Kelyn didn’t—that Kenrik had been sparring with me for days before Kelyn knew. As I thought about Kelyn’s face when he walked in and saw me fighting, I almost laughed. I casually brought my hand to my mouth and forced my lips into a straight line. Kenrik noticed, and his eyes widened as if he were trying to send a mental message.

  I think it said, “That’s one point for me.”

  Yes, most definitely. Brotherly competition.

  “Father, she took down Huw.” Kelyn was animated in his discussion. He waved his hands or leaned over the table. Sometimes he straightened and paced a few steps.

  His movements also prevented him from noticing Kenrik’s unspoken conversation with me.

  “You’re asking a woman to take charge.” Sieffre didn’t carry disbelief over my abilities, rather I believed he didn’t want the responsibility over my welfare should my life be placed in damnable circumstances.

  But King Sieffre hadn’t witnessed my sparring. He didn’t know what I was capable of. None of them really did. They hadn’t seen my light in battle.

  “Not a woman, albeit she is, but an emrys,” Kelyn said. “Her powers are beyond our comprehension. She can whip a special unit into shape.” He paused to regard me. “Of that I have no doubt.”

  “I’ll not send her into combat,” Sieffre said. I sensed his protective, fatherly sentiments for me.

  I followed the conversation back and forth, sitting superbly straight in my chair, considering. I should have been livid they were discussing me and my abilities as if I weren’t present, but I was intrigued. I never had an opportunity to prove myself in such a way in Gorlassar, not when lives were actually at stake. I’d never been given command. The idea filled me with pride. These mortals had such faith in me—a godlike being. They were desperate to grab hold of any hope when a situation overwhelmed their finite capabilities.

  As I thought about it, I estimated I could probably search out the offenders with my light and infiltrate the hideout on my own accord, but my merit as a leader wouldn’t be proved.

  You don’t have anything to prove, Seren said.

  I want to prove this to myself.

  I was afraid you were going to say that. You can find purpose in other avenues.

  I live for the fight, Seren. You know this.

  I do.

  What’s your hesitation? Our adventure has been profitable thus far. My agitation is somewhat pacified, I said.

  Somewhat. These princes are trouble.

  Luckily I’m not interested in them.

  At least I didn’t think I was.

  Mortals. They’re mortals, Seren ticked in my head, who die.

  “Father, she’s sitting right here,” Kelyn said. “She’s a grown woman who can speak for herself. She’s admitted she’s a warrior. We don’t know what kind of action she’s seen. We do know blood does not make her squeamish.”

  “She’s a mere pixie.” Sieffre mumbled in my direction, referencing my fair appearance. “Forgive me.”

  “You haven’t felt her muscles, Father.”

  “I most certainly have not, and I hope you haven’t either.”

  Kenrik snickered. He knew how strong I was after fighting with me over a dozen times.

  My body tensed, feeling as though Kelyn’s nimble arms were around me again. My core, my arms, and my legs were well developed. Kelyn had felt only my waist, but he knew my strength rivaled the mortals’. I was imbued with light, and my body was sculpted as a result. No body could miss that.

  Kenrik caught my eye, and he mouthed, “What do you say, warrior?”

  I raised my eyebrows at him. I liked his secret smiles and communication among a roomful of men. He was the only one who, I believed, really understood me. “They won’t know what hit them.” I mouthed in return.

  Kenrik leaned back in his chair and nodded, delighted in our little exchange.

  I stood abruptly, cutting off Kelyn. “I’ll do it.”

  So we returned from council with a plan in place. I was to enrich the men’s training because my techniques from Gorlassar in the art of hand fighting were new to the mortals. I was to lead them to the haunt, but stay outside, per Sieffre’s orders.

  I glanced at Kenrik as the men awaited the first of my instructions for a grueling two-week training session. “Prince Kenrik shall be my first volunteer.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Two weeks later we rode out with some much-improved men.

  The preparations weren’t without an intense debate between Kelyn and Kenrik about who should have stayed behind. King Sieffre requested that only one of his sons go on the mission. He would have given command to one of his other captains, but since I was leading the unit, he wanted Kelyn or Kenrik as my protector. The other was to stay behind and assure his people of a future king. My need for a protector was absurd. Sometimes mortals were so frustrating.

  Kenrik drew the short straw.

  I didn’t like leaving him. He had become my favorite sparring companion, and I trusted him to have my back, especially when we fought in groups. I didn’t worry about Kenrik’s bruised ego when I beat him, unlike with Kelyn, who didn’t quite grasp my trump card—an immortal’s strength and speed, a cunning eye and precision. I didn’t use my light when I fought, but even so, I couldn’t hold back what I was made of.

  After ten days on the road, we drew near Alwyn Foothills. The woods were dank—depressing—as our horses plodded along. A chill wafted on the air. The first snowfall would arrive in approximately two weeks. The men were eager to finish their mission and return to their families before becoming stuck in waist-high snowdrifts. Kelyn was eager to complete the mission so Lord Mathonwy’s people would have a peaceful winter without fear of being pillaged.

  I didn’t understand how devastating a winter was without the proper stockpiles of commodities. I took so much for granted in Gorlassar. A continual bloom and planting season meant food was always fresh. Goods were mostly processed for trips to barren areas, which were few in Gorlassar.

  I couldn’t grasp how long the winter in the highlands was either. Only during the days on the road, as the autumn gloom drove itself into my bones and I warded the oppressiveness off with my light, did I come to realize winter’s impending severity.

  The men became edgy.

  Kelyn asked me daily if I sensed the cluster of evil that was the enemy’s men. I wished I hadn’t told him how I could discern the enemy, but the operation depended on my power. Because of darkness in their hearts, flourishing because of every foul, wicked deed they’d ever done, I wouldn’t sense much light. Their souls would feel like blackness, creating a trackable hole in my vision. Though flickers of light vanished from my sight frequently, the occurrences didn’t mean we had arrived at the rabble’s stronghold—yet.

  I assessed the townsfolk we came across. The more I looked, the more I realized humans were vastly varied in the range from good to bad. Even Kelyn’s men differed in brightness. The more time I spent with them, the easier discerning their light became.

  When I first came to the mortal realm, I was so used to every glaring light of every emrys in Gorlassar that humans were impossible to discern. I’d been taught that all beings made by the Creator carried light to one degree or another. As my sight grew accustomed to the mortals’ lights, my ability to sense humans sharpened, and their lights dotted my sight—never with the same intensity of the men and women of my homeland, but at least I saw them.

  And their lack.

  Kelyn shone with a regal strength at the start of our journey. Compared to an emrys, he was but a candle beside the sun, but I still admired his spirit. His light wavered on some days, taking hits when I teased him, but when h
e countered with a clever comeback, he burned brightly once again.

  I smiled, thinking of his brother’s light. Kenrik blossomed with the hope of each knew day. I could have used him to lift my spirits as the days grew colder.

  Lord Mathonwy met us with a group of his men. From his scouts’ reports, we believed the hideout was beyond the next pocket of villages. Those were the ones hit the hardest.

  We had no way to estimate the size of the enemy’s band. Raids usually consisted of a couple of dozen brutes. Kelyn promised the total number in the hive might be ten times that. Once we drew closer, my light would follow the trail of evil—the void of light. And we’d know the odds our unit of fifty faced.

  I gazed into the darkness beyond our camp. A village was to the north. When I closed my eyes, I saw a sprinkling of lights grouped together. The cheerful lights of children. The harried lights of mothers. Duty-bound lights of fathers. The night was early, and the days grew longer, so most lights were relatively still as families gathered indoors around what I imagined were woodstoves and tables for supper.

  A bold light flared into my mind’s eye, as if a soul blinked into existence, and pulsed steadily for ten beats before staying on. In my sight, the light was far away, but it peered over the horizon of my mind.

  Seren, doesn’t that look like the light of an emrys? The sparkling light was as far away from where I stood as was the entrance to Gorlassar, but in the opposite direction.

  I thought of Siana, the first emrys to leave.

  It could be. It’s far brighter than the mortals’ lights, Seren said.

  Why am I noticing it just now?

  Too far away before?

  We don’t have time to investigate. After this excursion, we can discover who the light belongs to. A growing excitement filled my belly. Could the light be Siana’s? I wasn’t the only emrys in this world! It’s half a day away by dragon.

  I slipped into contemplation. A peace sifted through my core. My life felt driven. Empowered. Pieces settled into place. Possibilities. A home. Friends to love.