Heart of Farellah: Book 2

by Brindi Quinn

  Hm.

  Pietri continued, “Lusafael is the commander of the Feirgh and the founder of Druelca. He knows that with the usage of mekanix, people will cease to rely on the Creator. He is still envious of Creator’s love for people, and his wish above all is that they would use mekanix to bring about their own demise.

  “You, Aura, are the daughter of the western moon. Illuma is the daughter of the east. Lusafael has taken your moon hostage because he knows that with things as they are now, Illuma does not stand a chance. You have a powerful emulator, the Song of Salvation already within you, and your moon ready to ad’ai. But with your moon held captive, ad’ai cannot come.”

  It was just as Darch had predicted.

  “You must free Lusafael’s hold on the moon, use Nyte, and release the Song of Salvation. Once that is finished, this will finally rest. Lusafael will be gone and Nosrac can finally walk the Mistlands.”

  “Wait, your highness,” sneered Ardette. “How exactly are we to free Lusafael’s hold on the moon? I fear you’re forgetting the fact that, oh I don’t know, WE AREN’T ANGELS!”

  “If you wish to find access to the realm of the angels, you will need to enter the mist. From here, go to Nor. Be mindful that the Mystress cannot retrieve her Song until she kills Aura. So it stands to say that the Feirgh will be hunting for you in full-force.

  “Nyte, use the journey to master the new power that has been returned to you. Rend shall serve as your teacher. You must become strong enough to fuel a Song of Salvation that will be permanent.”

  Nyte nodded. I didn’t like the way he was being so complacent with all of this. He wasn’t actually considering becoming my sacrifice, was he? He’d better not be. I definitely wasn’t ready to let that happen.

  “And what will you do from here, Elder Pietri?” asked Nyte, still respectful even after everything.

  “I must return to the Kingdom. Things there are bad, but with Druelca’s main castle gone, we should be able to recover. If you need me, send the Spirit of In-between. It will know where to find me.”

  The elder nodded to the bird on his shoulder. It nodded in agreement.

  “Now then, as to your earlier question, Miss Kantú. We came here, to Ardette’s kin, because there are very few uncorrupted places still within western Farrowel. For many years, the Mistlands stayed in Nor without trespassing into the other regions, but with that angel involved, the mist has begun to leak at an alarming rate, corrupting the nearby civilians. Would you believe that Druelca started as a simple research facility? But with the mist’s influence, they quickly grew into something reeking of evil. Lusafael’s evil.”

  “Heh, you don’t say,” said Kantú. She looked frazzled – like her mind had just been blown because of all of the information that had recently been thrown at her. I understood the feeling.

  Aside from finding out that my entire life had been rigged, how was I supposed to cope – on top of dealing with the anguish of Illuma – with the fact that everyone expected Nyte to die at the Song of Salvation’s release? And in place of me, at that? There was no way. There was no way in hell I’d allow it! I didn’t know how I’d stop it, but I wouldn’t stand for something like that. I was going to save everyone in the Westerlands, and that included him!

  I was shaking mad at the assumption that we’d just play along with this plan. To go marching straight into the Mistlands, where the Feirgh resided and prowled, on the advice of someone who’d been our enemy just hours earlier? It was crazy. The whole thing was earth-shattering and unbelievable and unswallowable and crazy. More than crazy.

  My entire existence. My relationship with my sister. My relationship with Nyte. All had been swayed by one man. By one man’s wrinkled hand. That same hand was in front of me, fisted in determination in the lap of a wizened Elf, who was wearing an expression of duty. He’d caused me so much pain.

  But . . . did I hate Elder Pietri?

  Well, it was true that he’d played a large part in the muddy situation I now found myself in, but he hadn’t done that with the intent of causing me harm. It had all been to combat a greater evil. No, I was angry the elder, but that rage, the blinding hatred I’d felt for The Mystress, I’d found a different target to direct it at. Something that was less confusing and conflicted than pouring it towards my own sister.

  Lusafael. That was the real culprit. Lusafael and his jealousy . . . and his scheming and meddling.

  I knew that the hatred was wrong, but I wasn’t strong enough to move beyond it yet. For now, until I could grow, I had to hate someone. If I didn’t, I’d melt. I wouldn’t be able to go on, and I’d break, just as that part of my heart clinging to Illuma had. I had to hate someone, so that someone would be him.

  LUSAFAEL, I HATE YOU!

  Ardette winced and brought his hand to his temple. The internal utterance had been that loud, that ugly.

  “In any case, I doubt that even the thickest skinned of you would be able to sleep after hearing all of that, so Darch, if you would?”

  Elder Pietri gestured at me.

  “No problem!” Darch sprang from his chair.

  “Wait! There’s too much still that we have to-”

  But Darch’s pinky was already on my forehead, and he was circling . . . circling . . . circling. I was exhausted, so I’m sure it didn’t take much.

  I won’t let him die. I’d rather die than let him die. I love him, and so I won’t . . . he won’t . . . mist . . . angels . . .

  As I drifted away, I let myself fall into Nyte’s arms.

  Mist . . . Nor . . . corrupt angel . . . Ardette? Are . . . you . . .

  Chapter 23: The Story

  “Would you like to hear a story, Aura?”

  “Hm?”

  I’d been sitting on the front porch, resting my cheek on my fist. Alone. Deep in thought about everything that had happened. When I’d awoken, Pietri had been gone, and everyone else had been . . . normal. Too normal. It was clear they’d all shared a little ‘discussion’ after I’d fallen asleep.

  Though I hadn’t been present, I could vividly visualize what sort of things they’d discussed.

  I’m normal. I’m normal. I’m normal.

  But it was no use. I wasn’t normal. Nothing in my life was normal. My relationship with Nyte. My relationship with Illuma. My relationship with Ardette. They were all very complicated. If anything, I was the least normal thing I’d ever encountered.

  “You look like you need a diversion. So, would you like to hear it?”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Darch, who’d just exited Ms. Selrak’s cottage. I wasn’t particularly happy about this intrusion into my aloneness, but maybe a little diversion was just what I needed.

  “Alright, Darch. Why not?”

  “Splendid!” He clapped and settled onto the porch next to me.

  “So this is it? This is your story?” It held so much weight. I stared into my lap. “Am I ready to hear it?” I hoped it wasn’t a particularly sad story. Or a violent one. Or a shocking one. I couldn’t really handle things like that right now. I brought my eyes to meet his. Those glistening blues that matched the day sky. “Tell me, Darch. Am I ready?”

  “You are. Trust me. Looking after the soul is my specialty, after all.”

  Looking after the soul, huh? Maybe my soul now, more than ever, needed a little ‘looking after’.

  Darch kicked out his feet, folded his hands properly at his chest, and began to recite, “There was once a boy. He was a rude boy. He was an arrogant boy. He was-”

  “Really?” I cut him off with a groan. “Your storytelling skills are amazing, Darch.”

  He let out a laugh. “Alright. Let me begin again.” He cleared his throat and this time when he started, he was serious and there was a content, almost loving, softness about him.

  “There was once a Daem named Sowpa.”

  But wait-

  “Sowpa? But I thought this story was about-”

  “Now, now, Aura, no interruptions.” He shook a repr
imanding finger at me.

  “Sorry.”

  With a pleasant smile, he lowered his finger and started again.

  “Sowpa was incredibly gifted as a boy. Even as a toddler, he was far advanced in the art of shadow trickery. He was so great, in fact, that he was recruited by a secret organization before his tenth year. There, he excelled at the tasks handed to him, surpassing even the organization’s expectations. He excelled so much, in fact, that his younger brother was recruited based solely on Sowpa’s potential. Thus, as a very small child, Sowpa’s younger brother joined the secret organization without much choice.

  “Sowpa was a prodigy and his brother was his apprentice. But his brother didn’t take to the training the way Sowpa did. He found the ancient arts ‘boring’.”

  “Hmmm. Reminds me of someone.”

  “Then one day,” continued Darch, moving right over my interjection, “Sowpa was given a special task: to join a small detail that would accompany one of the organization’s members, a blacksmith named Parnold, back from the secret organization’s headquarters to a small village called ‘Farellah’. Sowpa eagerly accepted. His only regret was that his younger brother would have to stay behind.

  “The trip there was uneventful, but to Sowpa, it was his greatest adventure yet.”

  At this point, Darch stopped, reached down, and drew his finger along the ground at his feet. He started to carve a swirled pattern into the dirt that slowly took on the appearance of a willow. A sad willow that was reaching for something. Something distant.

  He said, “After several weeks, Sowpa and the others reached the village. It was night – dusk to be more exact – and they were all tired and ready for rest, but Sowpa was not allowed to follow the others in. The village was a closed city, you see, and therefore, Daems weren’t well known there. Thus, Sowpa was to remain unseen.

  “Well, needless to say, Sowpa played his role perfectly. He stood patiently in the cherry wood beyond the city limits while waiting for the detail to complete a small survey. Everything was as it should have been . . . but then something happened.”

  “Something?”

  But I knew what it was. What else could it be? It was that night.

  Instead of answering, Darch drew from the willow a long, extending branch that was reaching farther than the others. Next he drew its goal: a single flower. A cherry tree’s flower.

  “Yes, something happened. A woman, named Marbeck, came tearing through the woods at Sowpa, panicked and hobbling. Sowpa tried to dart, but it was too late. She’d found him. He’d waited so patiently – kept hidden – but she’d found him! And as you’d expect, the prodigy was wary at first. After all, he was supposed to have remained unseen, and he’d never strayed from his task before. It was disheartening for the young society member on his first true adventure.”

  Darch stopped here to look up at me.

  “But if you’re worried, Aura, don’t be. The woman turned out to be an undercover member of the secret organization, so it was all right.”

  “Well, yeah, I figured.”

  In reality, I hadn’t been ‘worried’ at all. My only worry was where this story was going. I didn’t know what Darch was trying to accomplish by telling it to me at this point in time, but I was seriously starting to doubt it would help my soul.

  “Marbeck commanded Sowpa to run and fetch one of the locals, a woman that could suppress memories. Like the good soldier that he was, he obediently followed the order. He fetched the local woman from her pink house and brought her to a small meadow, exactly as he’d been instructed. There, he met a girl – a wounded girl that was drifting in and out of consciousness.” Darch brought both hands to the dirt this time. “This part of the story is where the enchanting takes place.”

  In two fluid swipes, the arms of his willow brushed over the cherry flower. From there, they bent and twisted in what really did turn out to be enchanting – or maybe bewitching – scrolling wisps. Archaic in nature and elegant and enticing, curling around the flower.

  How he did it, I couldn’t say, but for just a moment, it took my breath away. The stolen breath immediately returned, however, at Darch’s next comment.

  “Sowpa claims she was the most stunning girl that he’d ever seen, and though he was just a boy, he fell in love with just one glance . . . . Er?” Hands still in the soil, Darch again stopped his tale to look over the top of his frames at me. “What? What’s that look for?”

  “He fell in love with just one glance? Really? Don’t you think that’s a little cheesy? I mean, he couldn’t have-”

  “No interruptions!” The reprimanding finger was back.

  “But you’re the one that aske-”

  A tapped pinky on my forehead made me forget what I’d just been about to say. With a wrinkled nose and a dirty smudge on my forehead, I closed my mouth. Darch beamed.

  “This is when the second enchanting takes place.”

  He returned to the ground and drew in another willow. This one was twice the size of the first one, and it too was reaching. It was reaching for the cherry flower, but it was also reaching for something else. Its longest, most desiring arms were stretching over the flower to the other willow.

  “Sowpa returned to the headquarters and told his younger brother about the stunning, wounded girl he’d encountered. A girl that was like snow. Delicate and sparking. The way he talked, this girl was like an angel. Or maybe he really thought of her as an angel. The fabled Heart of Salvation. The Pure Heart. The Maiden of Song. Aura Rosh.”

  I let out a small groan at the titles I hated, but I was locked by his words. I couldn’t escape the story. I had to finish now. We were too far and the trees were reaching and the wisps were scrolled and delicate and . . .

  “Well, the younger brother was rude and snot-nosed and didn’t care for much, but he did care about his brother, and he listened to Sowpa’s stories with such intentness that he started to fall for the girl too. That was the second enchanting. And the second one was even more powerful than the first.”

  I’ve loved you for longer than you’ll ever know. I’ve loved you for longer than you’ll ever know. I’ve loved you for longer than you’ll ever know. The second willow was around the flower, and somehow, inexplicably, the flower was closer to it now, wrapped in its arms. Embraced by its crying boughs. Love. Longer. Love. Longer.

  “Each year, Sowpa would travel to the city, along with a spy masquerading as a merchant, and do a survey of the girl. Disguised in shadow, he’d follow her from the surrounding woods, taking notes and studying her mannerisms. And guess what – she had no idea that he was even there. He was right behind her, but she never picked up on his quiet movements, his-”

  But at this, I was finally able to pull my eyes from the dirt.

  “HE DID WHAT?! HE SPIED ON ME?!”

  Darch let out a chuckle. Then he gave one billowing heave and blew away the picture from the dirt. The willows disappeared under the covering of fellow earth, and I became attached again. Attached to the present. Attached to the world beyond the wisps.

  “He spied?” I repeated with an unbelieving jaw.

  “I guess, sort of. Anyway,” – Darch clearly didn’t understand my distress because he just kept on going – “each year he’d return with more things about the girl that was like snow. How great she was. How innocent. How curious. How spastic. He even told his younger brother that someday he’d marry the girl – that someday he’d marry the snow princess. Every year, Sowpa would return, and every year Sowpa’s brother would send him with a list of things to find out. What kind of food did the snow princess like? How did she react to weird noises in the wood? What did she hum when she was by herself?”

  “Ardette the stalker.” I was quiet.

  “No, Sowpa’s brother the stalker.”

  “Eh- right.”

  “Well, that’s how things went for a long time and the years passed, and the brothers fell more in love with a girl they’d never be able to talk to.” Darch let out a rom
antic sigh and stared at the sky. “Tragic, no?”

  I, on the other hand, let out a masking sigh. “Well, considering that we’re dealing with stalkers, here . . .”

  I made light of it, but really, I didn’t know how to respond. How was it supposed to make me feel? Special?

  No, I just felt guilty. Even more guilty that I’d caused Ardette to suffer. That I was still causing him to suffer. And his brother too. He’d once been a part of Yes’lech, but look what he’d become. And how? How did he . . . Or maybe I didn’t want to know?

  So much had happened while I’d been oblivious; there was so much time that I had to make up for. I owed it to myself and to everyone. Everyone that had come into contact with this abnormal life of mine. So much time I had to spend in clarity to make up for all of those moments . . . but would I have time? Or would I run out? Would ad’ai come before I relived the lost years? Would I-

  “Aura?” Darch poked my shoulder “Are you listening? I feel like I’ve lost you.”

  “Uh. Sorry. I’m listening.” Wasn’t before, though.

  Darch took a deep breath, and kicking his legs out again, leaned back against the step. The air was still, but an overhead line of birds offered a little bit of commotion to the silence. Darch waited for them to pass before continuing. I think maybe he was trying to build up suspense, having ‘lost me’ at the story’s last break, but it was unnecessary. I didn’t want to know how the story ended, but I had to.

  I was too far. We’d come so deep already that there was no turning back.

  Finally, Darch said, “So things carried on that way until one year when everything changed. On that year, when Sowpa went to visit the snow princess, he did the unthinkable. He revealed himself to her. She’d never met a Daem before, so she was really shocked at first. But after that, she was nice and curious and excited. Sowpa’s dream of spending time with his snow princess had finally come true.

  “The two of them talked for a long time, and Sowpa told her about his younger brother. He told her the worst things, I’m sure, but still, her words were, ‘He reminds me of my sister. Dramatic and irrational. I bet I’d love him!’ The way her velvet-at-dusk eyes sparkled when she said it, Sowpa understood then that his princess was far more suited for someone like his brother.