The Twins

by Gary Alan Wassner

  The air was rank with the smell of the forest, and the filtered light was green in hue. Her feet were three inches deep in the luxuriant, moss covered ground, and she could not help but notice the fern-like shoots that had crept further up her legs. She felt as if they were drawing her downward and pulling her into the soft earth beneath her feet.

  A long, graceful filament broke free from the ancient tree and made its way toward Filaree’s face. Seeming to float in air, it hesitated a few inches from her eyes as if it was taking in her fragrance, attempting to assess her nature, then it briefly grazed her cheek with its soft end, painted a line of touch across her forehead and down the other cheek, and then it reached out toward the black tree held tightly in her raised hand. The stem examined the token with its contact, tracing the delicate outlines of the carving, and then it abruptly withdrew.

  Not knowing why or how recognition came to her, but now absolutely certain of her identification, she uttered the name, “Pembar!”

  Filaree stood transfixed and breathed in the deep, woody scent, though she was woozy and light headed. With each breath she believed that she was ingesting the very essence of the trees. All around her she could see movement and feel the currents of air billowing from tree to tree. Through glazed eyes and vision, badly blurred by the overwhelming green presence, she was almost certain that she glimpsed a human face peering from the midst of the old, gnarled tree. A broad smile came unbidden to her lips and her body coursed with a newly found energy.

  She gazed downward and saw that Cameron’s face was covered in a soft, moss-like down as if he was growing a green colored beard, and his arms and legs were totally covered with grass and ferns. His hair was braided with green fibers by now, and his skin was taking on a rugged, brownish tinge. He did not move at all and his breath passed over his body like the wind blowing through a tree. Yet, Filaree spoke not a word, realizing intuitively that this moment was one of testing and decision, an examination of sorts which they both desperately needed to pass. All of the trees surrounding them swayed silently back and forth in a hypnotic rhythm, mesmerizing her with their motion. Filaree watched as best as she still could as the big, old tree seemed to bow once more and then retreat behind a wall of younger, greener foliage, until it was out of her sight completely. She peered after it through the haze and obscurity, regretting suddenly and deeply its departure.

  All at once, the wall of trees abutting them receded, creating a small, circular clearing around them. They slowly slipped back as if they had never been there to begin with. Filaree smiled to herself and mouthed a silent thank you to her father and to Pembar. As her vision cleared, she looked over her shoulder and saw a blue patch of sky for the first time in a while. She turned to face it and lowered her tired arm, allowing the necklace to fall gently upon her chest. The formidable wall of green was finally broken, and the sights, sounds and smells of the outside world once again overtook her, clearing her vision and sharpening her perception.

  Cameron began to stir and to slowly extend his limbs, breaking the tender, green shackles that held him, while the horses lifted their heads, shook out their manes and restlessly stamped their hooves on the soft ground. When her senses regained their proper focus, she gazed out through the narrow opening at the forest’s edge and let her eyes converge upon the Tammell hills that now loomed barren and desolate in the distance.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Elion was exhausted. He had not only pulled the unconscious youth behind him the entire way back from Pardatha, but he had also just suffered from the emotional and physical fatigue of a battle hard fought.

  It is good to be home, he thought to himself.

  His father, Treestar, would not leave his side until he was safely within the boundaries of Lormarion itself, and then he was only willing to let his son out of his sight long enough to give the necessary orders to the watch towers to let the lifts down and bring the party up. Elion relaxed in the knowledge that soon he would be in the heights once again and that he would be able to rest and regain his strength once more.

  He raised his head just enough to see that the youth he had carried all this way was still close by his side and being well attended to. The young Elf never doubted the care that would be bestowed upon them both, but he felt a proprietary concern for the vulnerable young man similar to what he felt for his brothers when he was near to them. Yet this time his protective feelings were strangely more intense.

  One of the large platforms shortly descended from the fortified heights above, and in moments fifteen or so well armed guards quickly surrounded them and carefully assisted the wounded onto the lift. Treestar barked orders at them in an unusually agitated manner, anxious to reach the true safety of Seramour himself. Elion noticed with concern the state of readiness that the guards appeared to be in. He could not remember when armed guards had last stood as sentries upon the platforms. But, alas as he well knew, times were changing and safety was foremost on everyone’s mind these days. He took some small comfort in the preparedness that he began to notice everywhere, wishing that it were not necessary but knowing in his heart and feeling it in his soul that it was.

  The glowing powders lit the forest underneath the city, casting dancing shadows everywhere as the guards scurried about. When the platform carrying his companion and himself finally cleared the tops of the lowest branches, he gazed with an inexplicable joy upon the vistas before him.

  The spectacle of Seramour was unmatched on earth as far as he knew, and he could not imagine a more beautiful scenario than that which he witnessed now. He raised his head a bit from the conveyance that he lay sprawled upon in order to enable himself to take in a broader view of his city, it pleased him so. As far as his eyes could see, buildings sprouted up, each one constructed of carved and polished wood, capped by a woven roof of dyed reeds or beautifully painted tiles of baked and glazed mud. The colors were light and full of life, and they were both aesthetically pleasing as well as practical. The southern sun high above the treetops could get very strong, and the pastel tiles kept the buildings cool and comfortable. The carving was extremely elaborate on some buildings, having been done by master artists over the many countless tiels that Seramour had existed, and some of the buildings rose up hundreds of feet into the sky, seeming in places to poke through the clouds themselves.

  Seramour had grown greatly in size and population over the last one hundred and thirty tiels, particularly so in the last two as the country Elves sought out the shelter and safety of the heights of the city. The Noban trees were steadfast and sturdy, and Seramour grew and grew in breadth as well as height, able to absorb all who wished to take refuge therein. The avenues were paved with bricks of baked mud as well, spaced perfectly by artisans and builders who knew how to construct things with hardly any gaps in between, sealing the city entirely from the world below.

  The foundation of Seramour was as solid as earthen bedrock, constructed upon the broad boughs of the Nobans whose branches were easily trained to grow in the directions that the Elves guided them. An entire city flourished in the skies above the forest and lands of Lormarion, one such as few peoples but the Elves could ever have designed and constructed.

  The entry area, the location that housed the majority of the platforms providing ingress and egress to the city, was flat and wide, edged by a thick wall of foliage to the north and paved with enameled, red brick set in a pattern of scalloped arches radiating from the platforms outward. The larger lifts were designated for commerce, while the smaller ones served the families of Lormarion. The bottoms of the platforms were covered with a hard rubber-like substance, resistant to fire and weaponry, and when they were pulled up fully and locked into place, they sealed off the only openings through which an enemy could enter the city from below. Once shut and sealed, they also obscured the sun totally from reaching the ground beneath, requiring that artificial illumination be utilized below during most hours of the day. The city of Seramour itself spread out southward from this point
. A broad avenue led from the courtyard surrounding the lifts that was lined on both sides with store houses, trading floors and shops. Many of the city’s finest inns were located in this quarter of the city, each uniquely designed and decorated in order to lure the many and varied travelers and traders who came to visit and do business with the inhabitants of Seramour.

  The manufacturing districts of the city spread out eastward off of the boulevard, and the streets therein were among the oldest and narrowest of any, winding in and out of the gnarly branches, paved with oddly shaped dark yellow stones. The Elves of Seramour were artisans of the finest caliber, producing furniture, fabrics, clothing, carpets and wine unparalleled in quality. The vineyards of the city benefitted from their proximity to the sun, and the grapes ripened and matured faster than those on the surface, providing the winemakers with multiple harvests each season.

  To the west of the main boulevard nearest to the staging platforms lay the barracks and training grounds of the army, along with the stables and armories. Beyond the corrals and jousting sectors, one could see lush fields of green, rolling and curving according to the heights of the trees atop which they were built, all laden with the varied produce upon which the Elves thrived.

  The mature Noban trees were mostly uniform in size, allowing the Elves to build upon their branches without fear of them growing in an unusual manner and thus disrupting the edifices constructed on top of them. They ceased to grow vertically almost as soon as their first branches sprouted from them horizontally, thus informing the Elves that building could safely begin upon them.

  The homes of the gentry, the artisans of the highest level, the noble families and the palace spread out south and west of the main avenue, and being that there were limits upon how much lateral space anyone could occupy, most people utilized the sky in which to expand, building graceful structures of multiple levels rising high into the sparkling sunlight. The spires of the largest homes glittered magnificently as the sun reflected off of the multi colored tile roofs.

  Occupying a space in the center of the residential area was the palace of the royal family. It was a sight to behold, with the main structure constructed of highly polished white wood, sealed by huge bronze colored doors and topped by pastel roof tiles. Its towers rose up dramatically from its central axis, creating a breathtaking display of delicately carved, gold colored, mallow wood that was both rare and beautiful. The two highest of the spires were capped by row upon row of dragon-like scales made of burnished silver which reflected the sun’s rays so brightly that they mimicked the very sun itself.

  Many believed, particularly among the Elfin race, that the palace at Seramour was one of the most splendid structures in all the world, and every time that Elion saw it he understood what they meant. Nothing in his uncle Bristar’s lands compared to the majesty and elegance that was Seramour, though Crispen was certainly majestic and splendid in its own right. And Pardatha, a city both sturdy and secure, was no match aesthetically for this city either. It was rumored that only in the kingdom of Eleutheria would one find a city as magnificent as Seramour, and so few living beings outside of the Northern Elves themselves had been allowed to venture therein, that first hand accounts of the ice city were few and far between.

  It feels so good to he home, he thought again as his father assisted him down the main hallway toward the stairs that would lead him to his own apartments and some longed for and much needed rest and refreshment.

  Waiting expectantly at the end of the Hall of Dragons stood his mother, Elsinestra, Queen of the Southern Elves, majestic and fair, with floor length flaxen hair as fine as spun gold and a face that appeared as if it was sculpted from the whitest of marble. Her features were so delicate that they made the toughest of warriors stop in their tracks just to gaze upon them. She was a healer of the order of Andaxis, the most respected and talented order in the hierarchy of healers. Her talents were celebrated throughout the Elfin kingdoms and families came from miles around for the chance to have Elsinestra treat them when local healers were unable to rectify a situation, or under other unusual circumstances that required her deft and delicate touch. Her gentle demeanor coupled with her incredible intuition endeared her to all who knew her, and word of her mastery and special talents preceded her wherever she went.

  At this solemn moment, she stood anxiously awaiting her son’s return as the soldiers had sent word to her as soon as they were made aware of it themselves. She was prepared for the worst. Regardless of her inner feelings, she remained stoic and regal as her position required.

  Elsinestra saw both her husband and eldest son emerge from the gallery and enter the broad hallway. She stood motionless, her face not revealing the deep concern she felt. The Queen wanted to rush to them and clasp her son tightly to her breast, she was so happy to have him back home. She was also eager to apply her talents to the task of his repair. She arched her neck slightly, the only outward sign she gave that indicated her apprehension, and she used her Elfin sight to quickly assess the physical state her son was in.

  The wolves rarely attacked an Elf in front of the hills so near to dawn, and this fact alone troubled her deeply. But she sensed no serious damage. Suddenly, she noticed the presence of another, not Elfin in character, whose injuries were also not severe, yet whose mind was silent as if asleep.

  Peculiar, she thought, as she attempted to decipher the strange quality she discerned in the unconscious youth.

  Once they reached her side, she bent to caress her son and examine his injuries with her touch at the same time. He would mend easily, she perceived, the cuts being only superficial. His major ailment was fatigue, and a good night’s sleep after a soothing bath in hot napa oil would work wonders on him.

  “It is a joy to have you home, Elion,” she said tenderly. “I would have preferred, though, that you returned in a less dramatic fashion.”

  “I had not planned it quite this way, mother. I am sorry if I caused you concern. It was never my wish.”

  “You were very brave, I have been told, my son. You make me very proud. Any way you choose to come back to me, I would not complain about as long as you are not carried in on a funeral pyre. Now, enough talk! I will examine you more closely after you wash and change. But first, let me see to your companion whose injuries appear to be more extensive than your own.”

  Elsinestra moved to the silent youth’s side and bent down in order to place her hands on either side of his forehead. His eyes were partially open and she could not help but notice the beauty of their hue. She closed her own eyes and pressed her hands tightly against his head.

  “This is no ordinary human!” she exclaimed. “He is full of power, untainted and pure! I have yet to study one such as he!”

  “Elion? Where did you meet him, and why is he not conscious? His injuries are superficial and did not contribute to the state he is in.” Perplexed, she gazed at Elion with deepening concern.

  “It is a long story, mother, and although I know how important it is for me to impart to you both all of my knowledge in this regard, I am quite tired. Please, can you wait until then? Would you see my companion is treated with the utmost of care? I have grown rather fond of him these last few days. He is very special, mother.”

  They honored their son’s request without another thought, and they quickly instructed their aides to assist them. Then Elsinestra took Treestar’s hand in her own, looked deeply into his eyes and whispered in his ear, “Our son has brought an extraordinary youth into our kingdom and our home. I felt it immediately upon examining him. Never have I perceived such power in one so young! Could he be the one?” she asked in a hushed voice. “It is too soon for me to tell. His insensate state is not a natural one, though. Some spell captivates him.”

  “I gazed upon him only once, and I too recognized his uniqueness although without your depth of understanding. I wanted only to protect him from harm,” Treestar said. “Are you disturbed by him in any way?”

  “No, it is not a negative f
eeling that I am experiencing. On the contrary. But it is very potent, more intense by far than anything I have yet encountered.” Elsinestra turned in order to conceal her comments from the others present. “We must let our son rest first and then learn all that we can about this boy. My instincts tell me much, but I do not wish to be hasty with them,” she said to her husband under her breath. “See to their safety and comfort, Aliantar” she spoke gently to her attendant. “The human cannot protect himself.” She then turned to her husband. “Treestar, rest now. We will talk soon.”

  “I will meet you as soon as I am able, my dear,” he replied gratefully and then left the hallway for his chambers.

  Aliantar escorted Elion and the boy, the latter was carried gently by two other Elfin pages, up the stairway and to the healing quarters. Elsinestra stood alone for a moment once again, trying to quell the emotion that was rising in her breast. If her suspicions were correct, and she was almost certain that they were, her son had just brought to Lormarion the most important visitor it had yet to receive in all its history. She needed to be absolutely sure though, and in order for that to occur, she would have to spend a bit more time with the blonde haired boy. It was difficult for her to still her heart before all of those present, and she was glad that she was now left alone.

  Rarely had one disturbed her composure as totally as this errant young man did, and he was not even conscious! She too then left the room and made her way toward the library as quickly as she could, hoping to find some answers in the books therein while she waited for her husband to rejoin her.

  Elsinestra gazed out of the polished windows, not looking at anything at all. During the past few hours her mind had been working at a furious pace, questioning, reasoning and attempting to comprehend what was happening. She was discomforted by the events of the day, but she was not disheartened. The fact that Elion, her beloved son, had returned and was safe within the castle brought her great joy. But, the presence of his strange companion seemed more compelling to her somehow and more portentous even than her own son’s dramatic reappearance.