by Duncan Lay
Yet this implied the opposite. Sendatsu could read the words but struggled to understand them. The forefathers spoke of the elves being a danger to humans, of needing to protect the humans from elves. They claimed the elves had stolen from the humans and could not be trusted. To protect the humans, the elves needed to be locked away. Yet, bizarrely, it never said elves. It referred to his people not as elves but as Elfarans.
His first instinct was to roll it back up and hurl it on the fire. Surely this had to be a fake. But it was signed by the forefathers, using their official seals, still used today by clan leaders such as his father, Jaken. That alone made it very valuable. Besides, he had been taught from birth that anything written was true. And it had come from the tombs of the forefathers. He could not destroy it. His next thought was to take it back tomorrow and never think of it again … then something seemed to leap off the page. A passage written in a larger script and circled in ink.
The magic does not come from within us, but is a legacy of our service to the dragons and their long exposure to magic. It is not our birthright, as some claim now. This lie will be exposed, for the magic will fade with each passing generation. Not all Elfarans will be able to perform magic and, eventually, no more of us shall be able to use the magic than any other race of humans. As the magic decays within us, the barrier around Dokuzen will decay. It will fade, disappear, and our people will be able to make a home for themselves among the other humans.
Sendatsu felt sick with horror at the thought. For an instant he was a small child again, being told the gaijin were coming to get him. For the magic was failing now. Sendatsu had learned to fight with sword, bow and bare hands with one class of elves, all his own age — and he had also learned magic with them. Of all, only one had gone on to become a Magic-weaver. Asami. None of the others showed much ability with magic. Many, like Sendatsu, had scraped through their Test of magic and few used magic in their ordinary lives.
It was something the Council had been debating for years. There was talk of increasing the time to learn magic from two years to three years — perhaps even five years. There was even talk of working more closely with the Magic-weavers, an order distrusted and ignored for centuries. The latter, however, was fiercely opposed by Jaken and his supporters. They preferred an approach of warning students they had to devote themselves to study — and threatening anyone who failed the Test of magic would be instantly banished from Dokuzen — no matter how high-ranking their family.
If the fading magic was linked to the magic barrier around Dokuzen, the thing that protected them from the hordes of barbarian humans outside, then it was a matter of life and death. This scroll could change every elf’s life. He had to show it to the Council, had to act now, before it was too late.
Except, after watching his father devote himself to the politics of Dokuzen, Sendatsu wanted nothing to do with it. His father had tried to push responsibilities and duties on him from a young age until he rebelled against them. Since his wife died he had stepped even further back. Friends and former classmates came to him with problems and requests for help — he ignored or refused them all. But, much as he might want to, he could not forget about this. Every elf was taught how important the barrier was. It protected them from the humans. Cheijun’s nightmare was a common one. Elven parents regularly told their children to be good or the gaijin would come to get them. This warning from the past could not be ignored. That thought, on top of the writers’ names and the power of the written words, settled in his gut. He had spent years running away from such things but now one had caught him, he could not let it go. What was it doing hidden in the tombs of the forefathers? If only he had not taken it … if it was true, it could change everything in Dokuzen. He shuddered at the thought. Words from the forefathers themselves. Instructions they wanted carried out. And then there was the implication that clan Tadayoshi once ruled Dokuzen, for this other Sendatsu had been the Elder Elf. His father needed to see that, while the whole Council needed to hear the warning about the barrier.
For a moment he thought about addressing them himself, but decided it would be far better to hand it to his father. Then he had yet another thought. His father was a master of scorn — and he never missed an opportunity to tell Sendatsu he was wasting his gifts, ruining his life and spoiling his children. If this was all a child’s tale, or some sort of humour, his father would be furious. Perhaps he should speak to a Magic-weaver first, see what they thought. The fact it gave him a chance to speak to Asami had nothing to do with it.
The nobility of Dokuzen loved to throw parties. For them, life in Dokuzen was simple. Every person knew their place, their role in society, an order created and enforced by the Elven Council. Your clan’s position within the Council and your family’s position within your clan determined how your life would be lived. If you were at the top, your only duty was enjoyment. Sendatsu rarely attended these parties, preferring the company of his children to his peers. He knew they were speaking about him behind his back. So many of them longed to wield the power and influence he refused to use. And as for a warrior looking after children — it was unheard of. He knew what they said. Why had he not married again? He was not handsome — he was of average height for an elf, but seemed shorter because of his huge arms, shoulders and chest, the legacy of years of work with the bow. His hair was cropped short, while his jaw always seemed dark with the trace of a beard, his nose was too long, his ears too big. But his position made him very attractive and only his open love for Asami had kept the daughters of high-ranking elves away from him before his marriage.
Still, while being at a party was unpleasant, it gave him a reason to see Asami. Like many arranged marriages in Dokuzen, her and Gaibun’s was a union in name only. Unlike others in the same situation, who managed to keep up some form of public pretence with their marriage, they lived lives apart under the same roof. He served in the Border Patrol, she worked as a Magic-weaver. Friends with both, he saw them separately but never together. There was some secret, some darkness at the heart of this, but although he was close to them both, neither would say a word about it. And, of course, once joined before Aroaril there was no way out of this unhappiness.
So he knew Gaibun would not be there when he arrived. That was lucky for, as always, Asami took his breath away when he saw her.
She stood in the atrium, greeting her guests, as the host should. That day she wore a glorious red robe, and her long black hair was pinned up carefully, showing off her swanlike neck and accentuating her high cheekbones and pert nose. But when he stepped in front of her, Mai and Cheijun holding hands just behind, her studied mask of politeness cracked.
‘Sendatsu!’
He took her hand and could almost feel the heat between them. For a long, long moment they stared at each other and he had to hold himself back from sweeping her into his arms. For a heartbeat he thought she might leap into his, then they both became aware that all conversation had stopped and everyone was staring at them.
‘Come, bring your children through to the garden,’ she said hastily. Not letting go of his hand for an instant, she rushed him past the other guests, down a corridor and out into the air.
‘You shouldn’t have come, not after last time,’ she hissed, glancing around the garden to see who was watching, but her glowing eyes contradicted those words. He thought she was going to kiss him but then a pair of servants discreetly stepped onto the terrace, out of earshot but clearly within sight.
‘Are they there on your orders, or on Gaibun’s?’ Sendatsu nodded towards them.
‘Mine,’ she said with a half-smile. ‘I am afraid I cannot trust myself around you. Why did you come today? I thought you hated these parties?’
‘I have something of great importance to say …’
‘Wait!’ She let go of his hand. ‘My guests might come out here before the entertainment starts.’
So they stood and talked about nothing, while Mai and Cheijun chased butterflies. It should have been aw
kward but they had never had any problem finding something to say. They could always make each other laugh as well. It was as if they had seen each other yesterday, not a whole moon ago.
Sendatsu always loved this. Talking to her, with Mai and Cheijun playing nearby, he could imagine they were a real family.
‘You know, perhaps you should come back to my villa,’ he blurted.
Asami chuckled, then stared at him. ‘You would risk everything for me? Be prepared to have Gaibun challenge you?’
Sendatsu hesitated, his silence saying it all, then the music began and the spell was broken. From deep inside the house the strings echoed out to the garden, as did the applause and gentle cheers of the guests.
‘What was so important you needed to come here? Was it to torment me with false hope or did you just wish to create more gossip?’ She sighed.
Still Sendatsu hesitated, then reluctantly reached into his pouch and produced the scroll.
‘Read this.’ He handed her the scroll and watched as she unrolled and scanned the words. He read her face as she read the scroll, seeing surprise turn to amazement and then close up. He felt his heart beat faster. Something was going on behind her eyes …
‘Where did you get this knowledge?’ Asami breathed.
‘In the tombs of our forefathers. But it seems so ridiculous, except for the passage about the fading magic and the threat to the magical barrier. Can it really be true, that the barrier is here to keep us in, not the humans out?’
‘I think it is all true — and the evidence we have been looking for,’ Asami said slowly.
Sendatsu laughed at Cheijun’s antics and was slow to reply. ‘What? Do you mean to say you believe it?’
‘My sensei, Sumiko, has had me testing the barrier these past few moons. It stands but it is not what it once was. You can now approach right up to the edge of it safely — and may well be able to travel through it, as long as you have magic. And as for the magic decaying within us — we all know it to be true. Sumiko has been warning the Council of it for the past few years. She would love to see this. It is real evidence of what we have been trying to tell the Council for years — the elves do not understand magic and take it for granted. They have been able to ignore it so far but this evidence about the barrier will force them to take notice. Give it to me and I’ll take it to Sumiko.’
‘Wait — I only talked to you so my father would not shout at me for wasting his time. I don’t want to be handing stolen scrolls to the Magic-weavers,’ Sendatsu said, alarmed. He knew how much Jaken despised the Magic-weavers in general and Sumiko, their leader, in particular. Then there was the tantalising news about clan Tadayoshi ruling the elves, as Jaken longed to do. If Jaken found out Sendatsu had handed something so valuable, let alone dangerous, to the Magic-weavers rather than bring it to him …
‘This could change Dokuzen, might even bring down the Council itself. Why did you even come here, if not to do something about it?’ Asami kept a light smile on her face but her voice had turned cold and scathing. ‘Do you merely seek to hand the problem to someone else and then run back to your children, hide under the bed with them?’
‘I wanted to see you, have you tell me it was nothing to worry about,’ Sendatsu admitted miserably.
Asami shook her head. ‘Sometimes I wonder about you, Sendatsu. Perhaps one day you shall find the courage to live up to your name.’
‘What do you mean? None can match me with bow, sword or even bare hands. The only elf to ever score higher than I in the Tests was my father …’
‘There is a big difference between sword-courage and real courage,’ she told him. ‘If only you had learned that, then perhaps we would be together even now.’
‘That is unfair! My father forbade our union and forced me to marry Kayiko …’
‘You could have walked away. We could have both walked away from Dokuzen, gone and lived up north, found a small farm or fishing shack …’
‘Left Dokuzen? Left our lives behind, turned our backs on our birthright, clan and class, become nothing more than esemono and grub in the dirt? What would our families think of us then? We might sooner go and live among the gaijin!’
‘You are too proud of what you are, not who you are,’ Asami said coldly. ‘Calling those who work for us esemono is too much like your father. And since your wife died, you still haven’t found the courage to be with me. I always hope the next time will be different but it never is.’
‘We have to be careful. A scandal could destroy our families, tear apart the clan …’
‘And what does your clan and family think of you now?’ Asami continued remorselessly. ‘Is your father proud of the way you spend every day with your children, rather than working for him?’
Again, Sendatsu said nothing.
Asami sighed. ‘We would have been together. We could have found a way. We are no longer children — we’ve seen twenty-seven summers together, yet we are still apart. Don’t we deserve to be happy?’
Sendatsu looked around, but the servants were behind him. He reached out and took her hand, hiding it from them.
‘You know I wish for that. I just couldn’t go against my father. He probably would have sent guards to drag me back home.’
Asami smiled briefly, but also slipped her hand out of his. ‘I am sorry too. At least you have your children from your marriage. I have nothing from mine. I see you, I think of what could have been, I dare to dream and then you break it once again. Gaibun and I cannot even talk without fighting these days. Half of those inside my home have taken great delight in telling me Gaibun has another lover. It is not so much that I begrudge him a little love in his life, for seeking what I cannot give him, but I hate it when others gloat behind my back.’
‘Perhaps one day things might change …’
‘You have been saying that for many years — and I am yet to see action.’
‘I dream as well!’ Sendatsu declared. ‘You know that I long for the day when we can be together. But Gaibun has always been there for me, stood by me when other elves turned their backs, when my father drove all others away. We cannot be together without humiliating him …’
She reached out and brushed her fingers across his cheek but he was too fast, turning his head to kiss her hand.
‘Things can only change if you let me take that scroll and do something with it!’ she told him.
‘But what can a scroll do?’
‘You know what the people think about words. If they are written, they must be true. Besides, instructions from the ancestor elves themselves, written from beyond the grave, advice about the magic fading and the barrier decaying! Who could not take notice of them? You are the most trusting person I know, blindly following your father, but even you were disturbed by it. Imagine what the rest of Dokuzen will think,’ Asami said simply. ‘Let me take the scroll to Sumiko. Life here has gone on unchanged for the last three hundred years. The barrier seals us away from the human world and blocks out anything new at the same time. Everything about our life is so formal, so restricted. And the Council makes sure nothing ever changes. Your life is mapped out from the moment you are born. There are brilliant elves forced to labour in the mines, while fools sit in my reception room, contributing nothing but enjoying everything. Some are free to marry for love while others, like us, have to marry who we are told. I know you hate this as much as I do! The Magic-weavers may be separate to the rest of society but they are also the only ones with the power to challenge the Council. Imagine it — life without the Council controlling every aspect — who does what, who gets what — and who marries who.’
Sendatsu felt the temptation. He wanted to say yes. But it would mean setting himself against his father, against the Council. It would mean taking sides and taking a stand. The thought made him feel sick. As always, he sought a way out. He did not want to do anything that would risk his children. That made his decision easy and he told himself it was the right thing to do.
‘I shall show it to
my father first. I have to give him a chance to act. But if he does not take me seriously, then you can have it, I swear.’
Asami shook her head.
‘I don’t know why I expect more of you, but I always do,’ she said softly.
He leaned in, but not too close. For the thousandth time he looked into her eyes and dearly wanted to smooth a stray lock of hair back across her ear.
‘I don’t have a choice.’
‘There is always a choice,’ she told him sadly. ‘But you seem able to pick the one where you do nothing and let others decide for you.’
‘Asami …’
‘Go! Just go!’
‘I will be back if my father does not take this seriously,’ he promised.
Asami turned away. ‘My guests will be wondering where I am. I need to get back to them. If you leave now, I can tell them I had enough of your bad manners and unruly children. Then it will not get back to Gaibun.’
‘Asami, wait …’
But she swept away, leaving him frustrated. His father had been making noises about another marriage — there were always daughters of clan leaders and important elves desperate for alliance to clan Tadayoshi. But the thought of being married off to another who was not Asami … the last time he had said the words before a priest of Aroaril, he thought they would choke him.
‘Mai! Cheijun!’ he called and they came running.
‘Look at this flower!’ Mai held up a trophy for him to admire.
‘Wonderful,’ he enthused, but his heart was not in it.
He picked them both up, one in each arm, and forced a laugh as Cheijun tried to tickle him with a stalk of grass.
‘Where are we going?’ Mai asked.
