The Twins

by Gary Alan Wassner

  How careless have I been? To have left him unguarded no matter how serious the purpose which drew me away, borders upon negligence! Could this all have been by design? Have I fallen into a trap that may cost us all so dearly?

  He started to suspect everything, even his own cogitations and inspirations, wondering if Colton had infiltrated his thoughts and his home. Calista spoke of the Dark Lord’s power and of his deviousness, his ability to twist people’s minds.

  Has he already defeated us? Baladar worried. Could it be that his victory would be so simple to achieve, that one misstep by me could possibly mean the end of the world as we know it?

  Consumed by these concerns, he frantically planned his next move. He was not one to give up, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds, and he would not give up now. If the boy was to be found, he would locate him and bring him back safely to Pardatha.

  The sun had set by this time, and Baladar knew that Kettin could not have traveled too far, considering how much baggage his retinue carried with it, and how opposed to discomfort Lord Kettin was. He could not travel at top speed, even after having taken the boy.

  I could overtake him on Porta in a matter of hours, he thought, desperately trying to determine what to do.

  He needed to make some serious decisions, and he had to make them swiftly. Moving to his desk, he withdrew the small pouch that harbored his gems. He retrieved the Lalas disk from the cabinet against the wall and set it down on the desktop. Placing the stones one by one at opposite sides of the disk, he began to hum.

  As he sank into the trance of power that was required to activate the disk, concentrating upon Kettin’s image, a picture began to form amidst the swirling colors within the borders of the wood. The stones flared brightly, creating an arc of light above the desk. Baladar carefully scanned the images, searching for signs of the boy.

  He could see Kettin sitting upon his horse, chatting with his man-at-arms. He seemed casual and unconcerned about anything. Since there were no wagons within the entourage, Baladar could see everyone who was traveling with Kettin, and to his shock and consternation, Davmiran was nowhere to be found! He reviewed it once again, careful not to miss scrutinizing any area of Kettin’s group. There was no sign of the boy!

  Confusion overtook him as he searched the group once more. Nothing! Not a trace of him. He broadened the field of the image to encompass a wider radius, but to no avail. In utter dismay he let the image disappear, carefully returning the gems to the pouch and placing the disk back in the spot he had removed it from.

  Perhaps I was wrong, he thought, his mind rapidly assessing the other possibilities. Maybe Kettin did not take the boy. But if not he, then who did?

  Baladar sat down in his large chair in the corner of the room and peered out the leaded windows toward the eastern horizon.

  “How could I have been such a blasted idiot!” he exclaimed out loud.

  Of course the boy would not be with him any longer, even if it was he who abducted him originally. The spell that I cast upon him would have insured that all of their memories of his existence would have disappeared from their consciousness’ immediately upon their departure from the confines of the city’s walls. They would have left him outside the gates, unaware of his presence. Or, they would have continued to carry him with them unbeknownst to the entire party, until he fell from his horse or wandered away. He could be with them and still be safe! But, then I would have seen him,” his mind raced on. No, they must have left him behind somewhere, wandering on whatever means of transportation they had placed him on, most likely a mule or a pack horse.

  Baladar was thinking quickly now, trying to picture exactly what must have happened as they crossed the threshold of his premises. At first, he felt relieved that Kettin’s evil intentions had been thwarted by his magic, but then he instantly realized that now the boy would be on his own, defenseless and vulnerable, though invisible to any humans. Humans were certainly not the only danger in the woods. His life could be in more imminent risk abandoned and on his own, than in the company of the Duke’s son.

  What Baladar had construed would serve to protect Davmiran, was now going to be a liability to him, perhaps a fatal one!

  “I was not blessed with the young man’s presence only to lose him so quickly,” he muttered. “I must think, I must find him! He is in grave peril and every moment that passes enhances the risk for all of us. May the First grant me wisdom and aid my search!” he exclaimed.

  If the Dark Lord indeed sent the Duke’s son to carry out this evil deed, then he may be searching for him as well. Could he see through my magic? Baladar wondered, fearfully.

  In despair, Baladar stared out into the darkness, questioning what to do next, shivering with concern and feeling the weight of the world upon his shoulders, while the ring continued to burn with an ever raging heat, suspended from its golden chain on the middle of his chest.

  Chapter Fourteen

  From his vantage point behind the tree, Elion could not understand what the soldiers were doing. They led a horse through the gates, its back draped with a long saddle blanket that looked as if it concealed something. The guards seemed to take great care in leading the animal out, but as soon as they crossed the threshold, they appeared to lose interest in it altogether, dropping the rope that they held so tightly just a moment before.

  Their Lord and obvious leader turned his attention to the horizon, rather than the horse and its baggage, and laughed and slapped his man-at-arms on the back as if they were sharing some hilariously funny joke. Spurring his horse on, he led his entourage quickly across the open ground surrounding the city walls and disappeared into the nearby woods, never looking back once to see what happened to their quarry, leaving the mare behind as if it never existed. No one from the castle followed them out or bid them farewell.

  They couldn’t have been very important or cherished guests, he thought.

  The unsaddled horse dropped its head to chew on some sweet grass just off the stone pathway, as the soldiers and their leaders continued on. They left the horse to wander deeper into the grass unheeded. While searching for more to munch upon further down the path, the blanket on its back slipped to the ground and to Elion’s astonishment, there was a boy draped over its haunches, unmoving, bound hand and foot.

  After the mare had strayed quite some distance from the city walls, Elion watched the youth fall from the horse and land, motionless, upon the soft earth now hidden from view by the tall meadow grass. The prisoner did not move at all. He lay perfectly still, even after hitting the ground with some force from his perch atop the mare.

  Elion’s sharp eyes took in everything, and his extraordinary hearing allowed him to eavesdrop upon the group from a great distance. No one in the entire convoy ever stopped or even seemed to notice the absence of what appeared to captivate their attention just moments before. They spoke of their return home and they made all kinds of small talk, without a mention of the horse or its inert rider. It looked to him as if the horse carrying the boy just vanished in plain sight, as if they became invisible to them all while still in their very presence. One moment they were doting upon them, and the next, they were moving on as if they were never there.

  Elion watched from his hiding place until the soldiers were entirely out of sight and then he slowly walked over to the unconscious youth. As he neared the boy’s side, he noticed that his beautiful navy blue eyes were open wide, but they were clearly seeing nothing. His breathing was steady, but he moved not an inch. He did not appear to be suffering from any injury and he seemed not to be in pain, but he was as lifeless as a rock in all other respects. Elion bent to listen to his breath and his Elfin instincts bristled with excitement.

  This is no ordinary boy, he thought, his entire body tingling with energy.

  He quickly pulled a small silver dagger from his high suede boot and cut the bindings on his hands and feet. Taking off his loden cape, he laid it upon the ground and carefully placed the boy on top
of it. Slipping two small branches into the belt loops on either side of it, he created a makeshift portable. Using the hood as a handle, he grasped it and pulled the young man slowly through the grass into the shelter of the woods ahead, stopping only to place his dangling arms upon the conveyance so that they would not continue to catch on the brush beneath. He was so moved by the boy’s presence that he barely noticed the matted trail he left behind in the soft undergrowth.

  The sun was quite high in the eastern sky and there would be at least seven to eight hours of daylight left before darkness set in. Once safely hidden in the dense trees, Elion bent over the youth and examined him more closely. His skin continued to prickle as he gazed upon the stunning boy. Humans did not usually appear to him to be as beautiful as this one did. He often found their features exaggerated and misshapen, making them ugly, rather than soft and pleasant to gaze upon. Their skin was usually blemished and dirty and their eyes, the windows to their souls, were small and tired looking, in a variety of washed out colors.

  This boy had skin like polished stone, smooth and unblemished, and his eyes, though lacking in recognition, were clear and extraordinarily bright. His features were so perfect and symmetrical that they were almost Elfin in appearance. His ears were not too big for a human and they were delicately shaped, although they were rounded at the top, which Elion still found strange to glance upon. His hair was silken and beautifully colored, yellow and healthy looking. All in all, this was the first human that Elion could actually say he found to be aesthetically pleasing.

  But, it was not merely his appearance that struck the young Elf. In fact, that was the least significant aspect. The boy seemed to radiate power, a power he had never experienced before. It made him smile and it lifted his soul. All the weariness and fatigue he suffered during his journey, all the sadness for those he left behind and all of the anxiety he harbored regarding those he was hoping to reunite with, was washed away by his presence. The feelings were extraordinary! He was consumed with an overwhelming need to protect this adolescent human, this boy he had just stumbled upon. And the oddest thing of all was that this need felt so right and so pure. It was not born of envy, or jealousy, or hate, but of love.

  It was clear to Elion immediately that the human was not simply asleep. Someone had placed a strong spell upon him, and no rudimentary conjuring would awaken him. Of this he was sure. He would need time to determine what needed to be done with him, but he would first have to get him to a safe place. Obviously, the castle was not his home and the inhabitants were not his friends. Otherwise, the departing humans would not have been permitted to lead him out, bound hand and foot, the way that they did. No one followed the group out to check on his welfare or to bid them farewell. Surely his beauty could not have been overlooked by them all. Yet, they apparently did not care about his fate.

  What a strange race the human one is, he thought. He was surprised though at Baladar, the Lord of Pardatha. He had heard such good things about him from his parents and his uncle. They must have been wrong, he concluded, and he was glad he decided not to stop in the city on the way back home. Destiny must have brought me here at this moment in time, Elion thought, overwhelmed by the prescient feeling that was invoked by being in the boy’s company. The fabric weaves of its own will, he reflected soberly. He would have died if not for me, he pondered. I must find a way to awaken him and learn his purpose, his reason for being here, and why he was left to die, defenseless and alone.

  Elion continued to think to himself and weigh the possibilities, as he pulled Davmiran gently through the woods. He made little sound himself as he walked, seeming to travel on top of the leaves and twigs, rather than through them, his steps were so light. His pointed ears twitched independently of one another, picking up all the sounds of the forest, carefully screening out those which were normal and safe and focusing in on any that might be dangerous. His sense of smell was as good as any hound he might encounter and he could easily sense danger in that way as well. But, everything was all right now. The forest was friendly and peaceful, posing no immediate threat to either him or the boy.

  He stopped momentarily now and again to pull some berries from a branch or to gather some nuts from the base of a tree. Munching as he walked, he wondered how the boy would receive nourishment. He was quite skinny for a human, after all, and he could not allow him to suffer from lack of sustenance.

  Elion released his hold on the cape for a moment, as he recognized a particular tree in the distance. Moving directly over to it, he used his dagger to slice a thin line in the bark of the thick trunk. Pulling a transparent receptacle made of some kind of soft, vegetation from his vest, he blew into it and it puffed up like a glass bottle bulging at the bottom. Holding it against the tree, he watched patiently as a yellowish liquid, thick and fragrant, oozed out of the slash in the bark. After the flask was about half full, he brought it to his lips, and tasted the extract.

  “Ah!” he smacked his lips. Kala sap is still one of my favorite things to drink. To be so good to the palate and so good for the body at the same time is definitely a blessing.

  Carrying the juice like substance back to the boy, he knelt beside him, gently lifted his head a bit and placed a small pillow from his backpack behind him. Opening his mouth with his free hand, he placed the flask against his lips. Squeezing it from the bottom, a small amount of the Kala spurted into his mouth. He rubbed the boy’s throat until his muscles caused him to swallow involuntarily. Elion did this until a fair amount of the liquid had been downed, satisfied that he would now survive for a while without becoming dehydrated. Squeezing the remainder into his own mouth, he folded the receptacle and put it away.

  By now, the sun had just about set and the wind was rustling through the leaves, indicating to him that a storm of sorts was on its way. He could smell the rain in the air. Returning the pillow to his backpack, he continued on, pulling the boy behind him. He had been journeying for many days already when he came upon this youth, and he had a ways to go yet before he would reach his destination, his home of Seramour nestled within the protective woods of Lormarion.

  Elion had been away now for four years, living with the Northern Elves, mastering their lore and honing his indigenous skills at the same time. His uncle Bristar was a learned and wise leader whom his father loved dearly. Treestar had always wanted Elion to live with him and study the ways of the mountain Elves in the heights of Crispen with his elder brother. Their customs were so different from his own, and he wanted his son to have the opportunity to benefit from the knowledge of his northern kin.

  He hoped that Elion would bring home with him a wisdom that he could impart to his own people, helping to lead them through the troubled times to come. His father, Treestar, was getting old even in Elfin years, and he knew that Elion was the one to take his place among his people when he could lead them no more. With the trees dying everywhere, the Elfin lands were no longer certain to be safe from danger, and Treestar wanted his son to be prepared.

  As the darkness approached, even the Elves shuddered. Sheltered as they were, they had paid little attention to the world of humans. But, the death of a Lalas was felt by all living things, and so many deaths recently, alerted their leaders to the imminent threat to all the peoples of the lands. They could ignore it no more, and Treestar sent his three sons to the far corners of the globe in search of whatever knowledge they could garner from the many friends and relations he had.

  Fallean and Dalaway both left when he did, and they were due to return in the same month that he was due to arrive back home, Dalaway having gone the farthest, all the way to Eleutheria, and Fallean the nearest to the island of the Sea Clans. Elion was right on schedule, if nothing hindered his travels at this point. He was anxious to return, to see his father and brothers and to share what he had learned with them all in their effort to prepare for what everyone knew was approaching from the southern reaches, and hopefully prevent it from devastating them. He left with his uncle’s pledge to his
father that the northern kingdoms would march to their southern brethren’s aid if called upon to do so. This was heartening and it caused him much joy and comfort to be able to carry this message back to Treestar and his people.

  The wind was kicking up now and although he knew he could travel at night as his vision suffered little due to the darkness and he did not tire easily, he wanted to rest and think without having to be vigilant at the same time, as he would have to be if he continued on at this time. If he could find a safe haven for the night, he could plan somewhat and still have an opportunity to observe the boy as well.

  A short while later, up ahead, he thought he saw a small opening in the side of the rocky hill. As they approached it, he could clearly make out a narrow cave entrance that would accommodate them if he crouched down. He sensed no danger and he did not smell the presence, past or current, of any living thing. Pulling the boy behind him, he hunched over and entered. Inside, he found a chamber, safe and secure, within which he could stand up and move around comfortably.

  Making the boy as snug as possible, he laid out his bedroll and sat upon it to ponder the events of the day. From out of his backpack, he removed a small pouch, opened the drawstring and sprinkled a fine, luminous powder onto the stone floor. Spreading it thinly with his fingers until it covered an area a foot in diameter, he struck a flint to the stone and let the sparks fall upon the powder. As they touched it, the powder flared into flame, soft and warm, spreading its heat throughout the small cavern at once. It would burn all night without replenishment, Elion knew.

  He settled back against the hard wall and gazed from the flame to the face of the youth at his feet, assured that fate had brought them together, gaining confidence as the moments slipped away and believing now that even after four years of studying and learning, the boy that he had just stumbled upon would unwittingly provide the answer that they had all been searching the globe for. He sincerely felt that the future of his race, aye, of the whole planet, lay here in this dark cave, unconscious and innocent to the maelstrom building around him.