Fallen Emrys

by Lisa Rector

  My thoughts swirled with Kelyn’s kiss, and his near death. I almost lost him. I wanted his arms around me to hold me together, but his arms weren’t enough. His touch only did so much. Kenrik’s words and his mischievous looks replaced Kelyn’s caresses. Kenrik, the younger brother, saw something in me. Was it my compassion, my hope, my faith? Whatever he saw tugged at him, and he was drawn to my spirit. He soothed me with his words. He understood things on a deeper level. Kelyn was superficial, while Kenrik was quiet and brooding. Kelyn might claim to understand the nuances in my personality, and he might have made a study of me and my abilities, but Kenrik had always been accepting of who I was, with or without my power.

  He saw me as human.

  With my broken and damaged heart, all I wanted was to feel normal. I sneered. Normal for me was an emrys. Normal for me was feeling everyone’s emotions and having them feel me in return. Normal for me was having a heart-center of pure light and living among other immortals.

  Normal was also boring. Knowing my place and living out each day with a steady ritual. Rising with the sun, meditating, and praying. Training for a battle that never came in our secure realm. Wielding light against my emryn brothers and sisters to build my skills. Studying the books and scrolls written by the elders so the younger generation knew the secrets of light. Honoring the wishes of my elders. Forced to be submissive and meek, which I was not. The most freedom I had was flying on Seren.

  “Niawen?”

  Kelyn poked his head through the trapdoor in the middle of the circular space. He huffed and puffed as he pulled himself through. The climb up the winding stairwell must have done him in. The fall to the bottom was at least seven stories. A dizzying height to stare down.

  His face was sheened in sweat.

  “Niawen.” He crawled a few feet and remained on his knees. The quivering in his arms didn’t escape my notice.

  “What are you doing up here?” I turned to kneel beside him, but Kelyn lifted his hand.

  “Wait. Please stand. I have something to say while I’m down here.”

  I straightened. What possessed him to ascend the tower with his fear?

  “This is the first I’ve ever climbed those stairs,” he wheezed. “And I dare not stand and peer over the edge of that wall.”

  “Kelyn…” Watching and feeling such a raw terror scrub through him was agonizing for me.

  “You know abasing myself in front of you in such a manner doesn’t bother me,” he said. “I’m relieved I can be honest with you. Believe it or not, riding a horse without crying took me years to accomplish. I was six years old the first time I rode. The horse bucked, and I was thrown. Took me a whole summer to get back on, and even then, I sniffled and whimpered the whole time until Father said to forget it. I didn’t ride again until I was fifteen. Can you imagine?”

  I shook my head. “No.” I crouched beside him and wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief I plucked from my pocket.

  “I hope the fact I’m up here shows you I’d go to any lengths to portray the depths of my devotion.”

  I blinked as the bottom of my stomach dropped out.

  “Please. Stand. I can’t do this unless you’re standing. It wouldn’t be right.” Kelyn pushed himself to one knee. He took a steadying breath.

  I backed away a half step. Kelyn reached for my hand. “Niawen, darling. I know you deserve the best, and I’m far from any grace you’re used to, but I’m a good man and an honest man. I’m flawed, but I hope you can overlook those things that make me human and see that my love for you is endless.”

  Each word that left his mouth spun through my head. His feelings for me were developing too fast. Was his admission how mortals committed themselves to one another? Was he initiating some sort of bond? Oh no. He was bonding himself to me. In what way? Panic rose inside me.

  “Niawen, I’d be the happiest man if you’d be my wife.”

  My mouth parted. Kelyn’s hand tremored. This was a mortal’s proposal. He’s going to ask you to marry him, Kenrik had said. This wasn’t a bond but a consent to a future marriage.

  Things were done so differently in Gorlassar. We made little steps by bonding emotionally or mentally. Then came the exchange of light and the physical bond of intimacy.

  This wasn’t an emotional bond or mental bond. This was just words. A verbal contract.

  Kelyn was smitten. He was linked to me by his affections. I had only to open my mouth and respond. I had only to express my devotion in return. But how did I feel about him? My feelings were a chemical attraction. The way he touched me sent a rush of tingling throughout my body, scrambling my thoughts and making it impossible for me to think straight. Kelyn was all physical for me. This step was backward. I couldn’t be with Kelyn physically unless I bonded with him in other ways first.

  Uniting two souls by creating certain links was emryn law before a couple could share intimacy. And I didn’t know if an immortal could perform these bonds with a human.

  And I didn’t love him like that. I loved him as the man he was, but he wasn’t right for me. I wasn’t right for him.

  “Oh, Kelyn.”

  “I know you’re scared. I know you’re afraid of losing me, but can’t our life together be wonderful? I want to wake up beside you every day. I want to see your radiant smile and know it’s just for me. I want a life with you.”

  “I need to think. This is very soon. Your world is so new.”

  “I understand. You can have as much time as you want.” He kissed my hand.

  I didn’t expect his understanding. This was a relief.

  “Uh, Niawen…?” His strength gave out, and he crumpled to all fours.

  I wrapped my arms around his shaking frame. “Kelyn.”

  “The only consent I need right now, is that you’ll help me down these stairs,” he whispered.

  I laughed. “Of course. Of course.”

  “Thank you, my Niawen.”

  ***

  I rounded the corner on my way to the third-floor library. Tiwlip passed through the doorway. When she saw my face, she burst into tears and brushed past me.

  “Tiwlip!”

  Kenrik emerged. “Let her go.”

  “You didn’t do it, did you?” My thoughts flashed to our talk. I instantly knew from Tiwlip’s expression that she thought Kenrik turned her down because of me.

  “I had to. She’ll hate me all winter, but it will be for the best.”

  The best for whom? Kenrik was unattached. I was fair game for him.

  Kenrik followed me into the library and watched me browse the books. “You’re moping about something.”

  “I am not.” I am too.

  “You can’t fool me. Kelyn asked you, didn’t he?”

  My fingers bumped over the spines. “He told you he did.”

  “No. He didn’t. He’s become wise to… uh, never mind.” Kenrik took slow steps with his hands clasped behind his back.

  Your feelings. Your feelings for me. “I’m not oblivious, Kenrik.”

  His face fell. “Of course you’re not.”

  “You revealed the depths of your devotion when you met Seren.”

  “I was pledging myself to you. That’s what a loyal friend does.”

  That’s what someone who loves you does. “Your words meant more than that.” I pulled a book off the shelf, not the least bit interested in it. I smoothed my fingertips over the leather and the stamped title, trying to think of a reason I shouldn’t have wanted Kenrik to like me.

  Two reasons.

  Tiwlip and Kelyn.

  I don’t need romance.

  But I wanted Kenrik’s attention. I turned the book between my palms.

  As a friend. Only as a friend.

  Kenrik perched on the edge of a heavy, oak library table and arched his brows at me. “You didn’t realize the extent of my feelings until I slipped up the other day.”

  “I’ve been preoccupied.” Preoccupied with death. Obsessed with Kelyn’s almost death. “I
’m usually more astute.”

  “Is that an emryn thing?” He tried to pull the book from my hands because I was worrying the corners. His fingers brushed mine as I tugged without thinking.

  Kenrik released his grip, unsuccessful.

  “Yes.” I sighed. I should have been more diligent in scrutinizing the feelings of every mortal I came across. I should have been more careful not to encourage their inklings of feelings.

  That was pointless. I couldn’t hold off Owein or Kelyn or Kenrik, whether I knew their feelings or not. Besides, mortals didn’t always know when someone had feelings for them. So many of them were blind to the attentions from others. Maybe ignorance was bliss. Oh, to be a mortal. In the future, I could wait for endearing sentiments to be expressed and pretend I didn’t know.

  I wouldn’t feel guilty for leading anyone on.

  Too late for Kenrik.

  Kenrik snickered. “You haven’t given Kelyn an answer.”

  I slammed the book down on the table beside Kenrik, slamming decision down with it. “No.”

  I was going to ignore all the emotions and just enjoy life. I was tired of juggling.

  Kenrik grinned. “Good.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Kelyn’s men had returned. After Kelyn and I were sent off on Seren, they followed the tracks of the men I killed, back to the hideout, and finished them off. Not many foes were left to guard the place. Most had been sent on the raid, and then they met me, who granted a quick demise for those who didn’t deserve it.

  At least eradicating the rabble was an end to Lord Mathonwy’s problem.

  I was a hero.

  It was nauseating.

  Everyone in the palace praised me. Those who passed me in the halls greeted me with enthusiasm. I was one of them. I had saved their people and their crown prince.

  Only Kenrik knew how I suffered, and only Kenrik allowed me to grieve. We spent many hours alone as he hid from Tiwlip; and I, from everyone else. Sometimes we sat in silence, and he never expected me to put on the face I showed everyone else.

  Especially the face I showed Kelyn.

  Every time I was near Kelyn, my pulse raced. Not just from thoughts of his touch, but mostly from thoughts of his death. I couldn’t stop thinking about how his heart fought to beat with the arrow lodged in it. How the hardest-working organ in Kelyn’s body refused to quit fighting, all the while tearing the hole larger with its efforts.

  I couldn’t cast the image from my mind.

  Kelyn found me at the end of each day, after his duties were finished, and we strolled in the windowed hallway on the west side. It was a sunroom, but the sun had long since set by the time we arrived. Kelyn shared his day with me as we paced the hall’s length in the oil lamps’ light, turning once we reached the end.

  I smiled. I laughed. Kelyn angled his body toward mine and talked with his hands. He was passionate about helping his people, about serving them. He was bred to be a king.

  I was proud of him. I was proud I saved his life for his people.

  Kelyn didn’t ask me for an answer to his proposal, even as days wore on. I knew he was actively courting me—getting to know me. At least that’s what Kenrik snidely called it.

  Kelyn’s hand often slid into mine, and he smoothed circles on the palm. I giggled as he swept hair from my forehead or rested his palm against the nape of my neck as he gazed into my pupils.

  Oh, his blue eyes.

  They were the one thing that steadied my galloping heart and washed away the blood that spurted from his chest in my nightmares.

  He kissed me every day. Just once, before bed. Very chastely. He didn’t want to scare me off. He was patient—a man of his word. Even so, his heat lingered on my lips.

  Kenrik teased me over Kelyn’s attentions. Though we brooded out the daylight hours, I knew what he thought about Kelyn and me. I also knew Kenrik was trying to win me in his own way. We found empty guest rooms, and I punched pillows until they exploded. This resulted in our laughter as we blew feathers around the room and launched them in each other’s faces.

  I showed Kenrik my light. I showed him how I shielded myself in battle. I showed him how I heated water, and how I floated objects. In the armory, with Kenrik holding up a metal shield, I attacked him with a fury of orbs until the metal grew too hot, and he begged me to stop.

  More than once, I healed his burnt arm. When I did, he watched me, never taking his eyes off my face. He didn’t ever caress my cheeks as Kelyn did; he didn’t ever kiss me. And I loved him for it. I loved him for letting me beat him up over and over again. And for those times of silence.

  I was healing because of him.

  Or maybe I was just distracted.

  That was it. I was completely distracted. Ignoring my sin.

  The first snow was late. For some reason, anticipating the storm made everyone restless. After the men returned, they sparred once again in the great hall, which was the most spacious place to assemble. The men pushed the tables against the walls and spent hours blowing off steam. Most of them weren’t scholars, so they didn’t congregate in the libraries or the sitting rooms with the ladies, but after many hours of chatting and weaving or stitching, the ladies eventually trickled down to watch the men.

  I started this trend. Half of the ladies were ever so grateful.

  I followed Sorfrona and Tiwlip down to the hall. Tiwlip spoke to me civilly. Kenrik assured me he didn’t speak to her of his affections for another, but even so, she didn’t ever meet my eyes. She wasn’t blind. My heart ached for her. I didn’t want their breakup to happen because of me.

  Sorfrona had no idea Kenrik turned Tiwlip down. Every once in a while she mentioned how she was eager to travel to Hyledd in the spring—as if for a wedding. Tiwlip didn’t correct her.

  As the ladies filtered in, I felt egos puff. Men broadened their chests and began fighting for show.

  Kenrik wiggled his brows at me.

  I smiled.

  With the body heat in the room, most of the men had shed their shirts. The ladies blushed and tried not to stare at them directly. Most of them whispered to each other behind cupped hands while they batted eyelashes.

  Kelyn was sparring with another man. He called a halt to his match. “Ladies, I propose some encouragement for these hardworking soldiers. They’ve been sparring all afternoon, and their energy is flagging. Who will offer a token to the winner of the next match between Gobrwy and Trevis?” Gobrwy—a brawny, dark-haired man—and Trevis—a broad-shouldered blond—stepped forward and bowed.

  A few ladies reddened. Lady Daere stepped forward and waved an embroidered handkerchief.

  “Wonderful,” Kelyn exclaimed.

  “Men…” Gobrwy and Trevis crouched at the ready. “Begin!”

  The two men grappled with each other. Ladies gasped and cheered. The other men called out good-natured jeers. I noticed where Gobrwy faltered, Trevis advanced. Gobrwy would be down in…

  “Match!” Kelyn yelled.

  Trevis pulled Gobrwy off the floor and clapped him on the back. Lady Daere stepped forward and held out her handkerchief. Trevis took it, but not before kissing Lady Daere solidly on the hand. I saw his eyes catch hers. Apparently he had a lot of motivation for winning his match.

  The games continued. The supper hour drew near, and the men were going to break when someone called out. “Prince Kelyn and Prince Kenrik have yet to spar. One final match!”

  Everyone clapped. A few whistles pierced the ruckus.

  The soldier turned to me. “Lady Niawen, will you offer a token to the winner?”

  The blood drained from my face; I was sure. Kelyn grinned at me, and Kenrik was busy studying his nails, pretending he wasn’t keen on the idea.

  This is not good. Not good. “But of course.” I pulled out my handkerchief. Every muscle in my torso tightened. Kenrik was the stronger fighter. Of that, I had no doubt. Kelyn fought with greater intensity, but his advances were sloppy. I didn’t know how many people knew of their affecti
ons for me, but forcing them together wouldn’t end well. And their brawl would reveal everything. At least to me. I didn’t want to watch. I didn’t want to see their emerging emotions. I couldn’t stand by as they fought for me.

  “You’re not winning,” Kelyn whispered to Kenrik. No one could hear Kelyn’s words but me.

  “Remember, I always win the joust. I beat you at swords and javelin.” Kenrik stretched his shoulder by pulling his arm across his chest. “This will be easy.”

  “Don’t overestimate your skill.”

  They crouched.

  I clenched my fist by my side.

  “Begin!”

  Kelyn rushed his brother and slammed into him. Kenrik locked them together as his feet slid across the floor while Kelyn shoved until Kenrik weaseled away. Whirling around, Kelyn caught Kenrik’s fist when his arm came up for a strike, but Kenrik stuck his leg behind his brother’s and swiped Kelyn’s leg out from under him.

  Kelyn fell on his back, but rolled to the side before Kenrik pinned him.

  “It’s just like you to sweep in and knock your opponent off his feet,” Kelyn hissed.

  “You have to pay attention to the subtle indicators of my next move.”

  Kenrik meant this as a challenge. He plotted his next move with me daily. Kelyn was well aware of our traipsing around the palace—because one of the maids had complained about busted pillows.

  Kenrik slammed his shoulder into Kelyn’s chest. “You’re too busy planning your next attack to think about what your opponent’s doing. First rule, observe. Know your opponent before you strike.”

  “You never give subtle indicators.” Kelyn tried wrapping his leg around Kenrik’s to throw off his balance. “You sweep in as if it’s life or death.”

  “It often is.” Kenrik drove his fist into Kelyn’s stomach.

  Kelyn panted as he staggered and hunched over his injury. He recovered and wiped the sweat from his eyes. “You’ve always had your eye on the bigger prize, anything to overturn my intentions.”

  I frowned. I had pitted them against each other. I shouldn’t have devoted so much attention to both of them, but the mortal customs confused me. In Gorlassar my attentions to more than one man wouldn’t be misconstrued because everyone already knew who held my heart. If I had socialized with men, other than Aneirin, it was because we were friends.