Fallen Emrys

by Lisa Rector

  “Of course my heart broke. You can’t imagine what watching her almost die was like.”

  “See! I guess we can’t put ourselves in each other’s shoes. A life together would never work.” I pushed him back. I was too overwhelmed with his face in mine. Too overwhelmed with his body against me.

  Kenrik squeezed his eyes tight in frustration. “Death is a part of life. It’s painful, but people move on.”

  “That’s what you’re asking me to do? When you draw your last breath, you’re asking me to forget you and move on?”

  “Not forget me. Remember me. And our happiness, then move on. I wouldn’t expect you to mourn me your entire life. Remarry.”

  “You don’t even know what you’re saying! This argument is ridiculous.”

  His face pleaded; I couldn’t stand the way his forehead wrinkled in desperation. “Pick me, Niawen.”

  “Love is fleeting. I don’t want it. I didn’t come seeking it.” This was what I had to tell myself even as the drive for a soul mate tore through me. Denying my feelings was the only way to keep Kenrik and Kelyn from hating each other.

  “Look at me. Really look at me, and you’ll see the depth of my devotion. I’d crawl through eternal hellfire for you.”

  I dared not peek into Kenrik in such a way, not after Aneirin. And certainly not knowing that whatever love I might find could be dead tomorrow or in a few decades. Kenrik couldn’t understand how time moved for someone like me, but I turned to him. “I didn’t ask for a confirmation of your devotion. Why does everyone ask that?”

  “Do you love me, Niawen?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t say. It’s over. I can’t stay here and be the cause of this rift between you and Kelyn.”

  I broke his hold and bolted from the room.

  His shout raced down the hall after me. “Niawen!”

  Seren! I felt hot. Antsy. Agitated.

  She anticipated my needs before I said a word. I’m in the courtyard.

  Forgive me for bringing you here. I was stupid and rash. I had wound myself into this world and created a mess.

  Niawen, you don’t need to ask my forgiveness.

  I wish you had stopped me from ever leaving Gorlassar.

  “So that’s it.” Kenrik tore after me, shouting for the whole palace to hear. “Was this an experiment for you? Were you just curious about the fragile humans?”

  I ripped through the front doors, still running. The cold afternoon air slapped my face. Kenrik’s words slapped my soul.

  Seren stretched her wings.

  Kenrik burst outside after me. “You snared us with your beauty. Is this some emryn magic?”

  I rounded on him. “I snared no one. Stop this. You can’t possibly claim to love me if you can’t respect my wishes. At least Kelyn said he’d wait. He hasn’t pressured me.” I ran into Seren’s arms.

  “Niawen!” Desperation rattled through Kenrik and into me. “Forgive me. Don’t go.”

  “I have to go.”

  Seren gave me a leg up.

  “Please tell me you’ll return. What can I do to make you stay?” Kenrik stared up at Seren’s saddle, where I settled in.

  “Nothing can make me stay.” Don’t make leaving harder than it is.

  “Are you leaving Kelyn without a goodbye? He’ll be heartbroken. And my mother and father, Tiwlip and Brenin? You can’t leave them.”

  My face pinched. I didn’t want to leave them without goodbyes, but I was afraid my bravery would falter and I couldn’t tear myself away. “Tell them I loved them. Truly.”

  He rubbed Seren’s shoulder. “Where are you going?”

  Seren reared, and Kenrik stumbled backward. She leapt into the sky, feeling my ache for a swift departure.

  “Home.” I turned my eyes away from Kenrik’s miserable face.

  “NIAWEN!” His voice stabbed through me.

  As Seren gained altitude, the roar of my name, over and over, caused me to glance back.

  Kenrik had fallen to his knees. He arched his back, expanding his chest as he lifted his head to the sky. Every muscle in his neck was taut. Tears streaked his red face.

  He was a tortured man, who screamed my name until he grew hoarse.

  I turned away once he curled into a sniveling mass on the cobblestone.

  Even though his vocal cries ceased, his voice continued to thunder throughout my head.

  NIAWEN!

  Oh, Deian. I was destroying him.

  Chapter Twenty

  Relief swallowed me as Seren flew closer to Eirwen Mountain. I would soon see the entrance.

  I’ll appeal to the High Emrys. She’ll understand I’m not corrupted. I’m not, am I?

  No, Niawen. You’re not corrupted, Seren said.

  I acted in fury. I remember clearly that, though I was buried under rage, I carefully calculated my attack so I wouldn’t harm anyone who was innocent.

  You’re a good person, Niawen, with good intentions, and you help others. You don’t go around wishing destruction on people.

  No, I don’t.

  The mountain ledge grew closer. To my dismay, someone was standing outside the entrance.

  Who’s that?

  I zoomed in with my dragon sight on a young man dressed in a midnight blue guard uniform. Ieuan. Why’s he standing there?

  Seren landed, and I slid down. I strode forward, determined not to be held back.

  Ieuan had projected a shield of light around his body to protect himself from the cold. He stood at attention, but as I drew closer, he crouched into a fighting stance, blocking the entrance to Gorlassar.

  “Out of the way, Ieuan.”

  “I can’t let you pass, Niawen.”

  I wanted to laugh. “I’m stronger. Don’t make me fight you.” I had taken Ieuan down in many sparring matches. Although he was well toned and agile, the approach of attack and my determination gave me an advantage whenever I fought.

  Ieuan flinched as if he were going to lunge at me. I jumped, and he sneered. “You’re not getting in.”

  Light exploded from my palms. Ieuan blocked my shot with his shield, and the rebound flared in a sunburst around him.

  “You’ll have to do better than that,” he said.

  I rushed at him, yelling. I gripped his shoulders and heaved him off balance. My light bolstered my strength as I envisioned a lion tearing into his prey. Ieuan and I rolled in the snow. He pinned me, but I twisted my legs, breaking his hold and shoving him off.

  I blasted him in the face, but he held on, wrapping himself around my waist as I crawled toward the entrance. Finally, after much scuffling, I knelt on his arms, straddling his chest as I smashed his head into the snow.

  “You’re crazy,” he hissed. “I didn’t want to believe it, but the mortals have defiled you.”

  “I just want to go home.” I grunted as Ieuan pushed against me.

  Three men emerged through the rift, my father Caledu included. Every hope I had was crushed as I glared at his pointy nose.

  “Restrain her,” my father huffed.

  Seren reared. Caledu lifted his hand, and a heaviness descended over her, feeding into me. I drooped even as the men lifted me by each arm. Seren cowered, held at bay by my father’s light.

  “Father, you don’t understand—”

  He frowned. “I understand perfectly well. You’ve forsaken your guardianship. You left the realm. You made the choice to entangle yourself in the lives of mortals.”

  I strained against the hands that held me. “I’m ready to come home. I’ve learned my lesson.”

  His expression changed to an unfeeling mask, accentuating his long face. “The sentence is given. You’re forever exiled from the dragon realm. You will relinquish your stone to pass to another rider. You’re not worthy.”

  I threw my light at him, trying to read his emotions. He blocked me! “Your own daughter can’t return! Do you even love me? You’ve been so cold and stern. Why can’t I see into your soul? What are you hiding? My heart may be blackene
d, but I don’t hide. You’ve always read me!”

  Caledu stared, unmoving.

  “Corruption comes from within,” I screamed. “You don’t have to associate with mortals to brand darkness on your own heart. What ugly, malformed emotions do you conceal? What perverted justice allows you to consider my exile?”

  Panic vibrated through me. Failure sucked into my heart-center, creating a vortex. “Let me in, Father! I’m your daughter!”

  Even the guards felt awful. Ieuan showed a flicker of compassion. My suffering was abominable.

  “I am repentant! I am remorseful!” I jumped into the air and twirled as I flipped so the guards’ hold on me broke. They staggered in the snow from the force of my move. I held my arms out, holding them off with a shield. “I ask for forgiveness. Let me petition the High Emrys. Take me to Meinwen. I am pure!”

  “Pure? Pure!” Caledu stormed closer, pushing me with his energy. “What do your emotions reveal now? Shame. What have you done that brings this distress? What rakes your conscience? What misdeeds have tarnished your heart-center?”

  My knees buckled, but I pushed against my father’s bullying might.

  “Oh, that’s right. Murder. How many men did you slaughter?”

  I wailed and dropped to my knees. “I don’t know! Dozens! I was surrounded. I thought they killed Kelyn. They were destroying the village and killing people. I had to choose their lives or the lives of the innocent. I chose those with evil in their hearts.”

  “Which is what you have now.”

  “I’m an Emrys of Light. A dragon guardian.”

  “You’re stripped of that honor. Take her stone!”

  “No, Caledu. I forbid it.” A new voice joined us on the ledge.

  Aneirin had stepped from the portal and pushed his way past my father, whose eyes were filled with outrage. Aneirin crouched in front of me and tilted my chin. His pupils grew as he took me in. I saw deep sorrow. Breaking sorrow. He blamed himself.

  “Aneirin, don’t,” I whispered.

  “Niawen. Forgive me.” He pulled me to my feet.

  I gripped his arm, hoping to portray my feelings, sending him peace. Sending him understanding—I knew and accepted my mistakes. “None of this was your doing.”

  “How dare you interfere?” Caledu snarled. “Aneirin, you have no jurisdiction here. I don’t care what you’ve cried to your parents about. I’m enforcer. Only a council can overrule the law. Niawen cannot enter. And no council would admit her with darkness in her heart.”

  “Her dragon is my dragon’s mate. They must be permitted to enter,” Aneirin said.

  “Seren may return, but Niawen is banished.”

  “It doesn’t have to be this way,” Aneirin said.

  “It shouldn’t have been this way.” Caledu raged at Aneirin, with his hands clenched into claws. “Had you loved her, had you told her yes, none of this would have happened!”

  “It’s not Aneirin’s fault,” I said. “He couldn’t pretend to love me. That’s not how love works.” If I learned anything from my time with the mortals, it was certainly this.

  “Look at her,” Caledu said to Aneirin. “I know you aren’t blind. See the damage to her heart-center. You hammered the first spike, and the damage escalated from there. Her light has dimmed. It has blackened.”

  I covered my chest, knowing full well that my action wouldn’t keep Aneirin from discerning my shrouded light.

  Aneirin really looked at me, and his concern morphed into despair. “Niawen, we’ll fix this.” He turned to my father. “The ruling can’t be absolute, Caledu. She can heal.” Even as Aneirin said it, he felt hopeless.

  “There’s nothing she can do to erase the stain on her heart-center,” Caledu said.

  “Please don’t blame yourself,” I whispered to Aneirin. “Don’t listen to my father. You had nothing to do with my blemished heart-center.”

  “Her corruption took root from her actions,” Caledu said. “She cannot turn back time and erase what she’s done.”

  “I am not corrupted.” I shook as I yelled. “I am not corrupted. I am not corrupted!” The pressure of my light pounded in my chest. I felt heavy.

  I felt explosive.

  “You are. And you are exiled,” Caledu hissed.

  “The shroud doesn’t affect my light. I heal just fine. I project with ease. It’s only a record of my misdeed, a blotch that can be eradicated with forgiveness!” At least this was what I hoped—that Kenrik was right. I believed him.

  Caledu scowled. “Take her stone.”

  “No!” Aneirin stepped between the guards and me, but Caledu threw out his light, which wrapped around Aneirin’s ankle. As my father whipped his arm back, Aneirin fell headfirst into the snow. He struggled to his elbows, spitting snow from his mouth and swiping his eyes. He was beaten. Caledu would never let him intervene. Aneirin’s crestfallen face told me this moment would haunt him forever.

  The guards advanced, throwing a cage of light around me.

  My heart broke as I regarded Aneirin one last time. The world seemed to still as I forgave him for everything that was ever wrong between us. I’d hold on to this, knowing that Aneirin and I had something beyond love—a bond that was indescribable and unsurpassable in comprehension. I mourned for one brief instant the damage I had caused when I read the imprint of his soul. But that didn’t matter anymore. We would part as friends. “Tell Cephias Seren will return, Aneirin. I swear it.”

  The will to preserve every part that was me, including my dragon, launched a starburst from my core. Blinding light obscured the snowy ledge as the cage shattered like raining glass. Where my fury had once killed, it propelled away those who hindered me. The four standing men bowled over. I used their confusion to run to Seren.

  For the second time, she flew me away from Gorlassar.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  I have nowhere to go. My fingers curled into talons, with the muscles so taut they ached. Furious. I was furious! Thrown out by my own father! I rubbed my eyes and dragged my hands down my face. I should have felt more rejected, but I was at the point of hysterics.

  “I am desolate!” I tossed my arms up and shouted to the world. The image of how I left Kenrik flashed through me. I laughed—delirious, consuming laughter—until my eyes watered.

  And humiliated. Humiliated by my father. Disowned. He barely looked at me. I sickened him.

  The irony. I obtained exactly what I was running from and more. Heartache. Disappointment. Love. Adventure.

  And a beginning—once again, Seren murmured.

  Oh, Seren, what should I do?

  She angled her flight toward Cynwrig.

  No. Go west. Or north. I’m not returning. My place is not with Kelyn or his people. I can’t go back.

  Seren flew in circles. She didn’t move with haste, but waited until I made up my mind.

  The sea was in the west, as was Owein. He presented the same problem. Mortality. Death. Disease. Frail bodies and simple emotions. The allure of the physical.

  I couldn’t help but smile over how delighted he had been with me on his arm. I was a beautiful immortal trophy.

  Which is what I was to Kelyn.

  He and Kenrik had compared me to a prize.

  My soul shrank, grieved from the memory—from the taste of Kelyn. His sensitivity. His tender touches. His amorous groans and gratification from one kiss. How I wanted him to want me! You are alive. Live a life I shall never have, dear Kelyn, because I cannot spend it with you.

  And Kenrik. My devotion couldn’t hold a candle to his devotion. His despair rivaled mine. Had he never met me, he wouldn’t have known such torment. At least he had a home—a choice of a home. If he accepted Tiwlip, they would raise Brenin together, or he could fall in love with a maiden and seclude himself in the highlands on some estate. He had options—dreams.

  I didn’t have dreams. What were my options?

  I tucked against Seren and closed my eyes while I searched for the lights of my friends. They w
ere far away, to my right. I knew which lights were Kelyn’s and Kenrik’s because I had memorized their every dance, their every wink. Even their lights’ hue—Kenrik’s a golden yellow and Kelyn’s a cherry pink.

  Like a twinkling star, a light pierced my mind’s eye, pulling at the edges of my vision. The emrys’s light, the one I saw before battle, called to me. Beckoning. Niawen. Niawen. Niawen.

  Siana.

  Another emrys on this plane of existence. I didn’t have to be alone. I didn’t have to be with fragile mortals. She’d understand. She would help me and give me a place to call home.

  Seren. Follow that light.

  Niawen. Niawen. Niawen.

  That light was my last hope.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  In the light of dusk, as Seren crested Eirwen Mountain’s final ridge, I laid eyes on Cynwrig for the last time before altering course to the land in the north.

  Kelyn once spoke of the northern realm. He considered Rolant to be behind the ruffians’ wreaking havoc in his homeland. More than once, the dark-skinned men from the north traversed the mountain range and entered the highlands. A few lived peacefully and were welcomed, but they were the few.

  Seren and I passed those mountains. Though they were challenging for a mortal to cross, I supposed the journey was possible on foot. Snow had yet to blanket the rounded peaks covered in bare deciduous trees.

  We flew into the night. Roughly an eight-hour stretch. Near midnight, a city rose in my dragon sight. The light of the emrys abiding there was strong, but not as strong as Catrin’s light or Aneirin’s. Still, the light was a good sign. Someone from home would greet me—Siana—I hoped.

  Over three thousand years was a long time for an emrys to be in this realm alone. Yet Sieffre spoke of her on the scrolls they found. Ancient scrolls. Siana should have posterity—unless she couldn’t bond with mortals. Since I saw no other emryn lights, I feared this was the truth. Being unable to have children was a tragedy, all because she exiled herself to live with mortals. And to live alone while she watched everyone around her die? I didn’t want to postulate it. She must have immersed herself into mortal life, as I was trying to do.