Myran

by Angela J. Ford

  She paused, lost in thought, and I settled down at the round table in the middle of the cave, lost in wonder. I tucked my feet under me as I sat on one of the four stools, and the first meal lay before me, untouched. Luthín seemed to float across the leaf-strewn floor, past the moss carpeting our cave, and settled across from me. “You are grown now. It is time you knew all. Ask, ponder, and listen.”

  “Did you leave because of me?” I asked, my voice, soft, gentle and smoothened by the airy breeze.

  I'd never realized how large Luthín's eyes were; they took in many thoughts and emotions. Maybe that's what Tilyon had found in her; only he was off again. He was always traveling now, and the joy when he came back to the cave was ten-fold.

  “Sometimes, the future whispers in our minds and warns us of harder times ahead, although we do not quite know exactly how it will be played out. We both knew our time would come. Then, those ten years ago, I felt the call, and I ran. Somehow, I knew you were waiting, and I feared I would be too late. I could feel the horror in your heart crying out, whether you knew it or not, and I knew I was supposed to protect you. You have great potential, but you do not know it yet, do you? Back then, the ruler, Tremlore, told us we could not bring a mortal into our midst. He felt the Black Steeds would track down a mortal much faster than us immortal beings. He told us...” Her eyes took on a lost look. “We must take you to the fortress, where the White Steeds live, and they would take you in and raise you. If we did not listen to his ruling, we would have to leave and never return, never sing and dance with our kind again, or speak their language. We were to cease to be what we are. We were to go far away, cross the Jaded Sea, and on to the west. We did not think he would relent, but we disobeyed anyway. We are still in Shimla, less than a week's walk from our home, and we brought you to one of the sacred places of the Idrains, a place of safety and protection. This was the most we could do.”

  “You did not have to do this for me,” I said, catching a glimpse of what they had done for me. “Would I have not been as safe at the fortress of the White Steeds?”

  “No, the White Steeds do not have a sacredness around them, an immortal fear and history behind them, guiding those away from them. Everyone knows where the fortress is. With a little hard searching, one can find it. Although it is fiercely guarded, you would not have been as free there. I fear you may have been oppressed as you grew up. Out there in the land of the White Steeds and Black Steeds, the outside world, the people groups come and go; they exchange names thoughtlessly and drop them like leaves of the forest. They forget that the simplest can be important; they think themselves wise without hints of the future and impending dangers. We realize their shortcomings; this is why they need us. They have the strength to fight; this is why we need them. Maybe the mixing of mortals and immortals is not so bad. But we are waiting for another generation, one after my time and yours, to rise up, and you will play a pivotal part in this, I think. Which is why I did not want to lose sight of you or turn over your care to other Crons.”

  I listened to her words and began to understand. I did not see what part I would play. I wanted all to stay as it was in my haven of peace. Luthín's words suggested otherwise. “And what of the reign of Magdela the Monrage? It has been long over. What came of that?”

  I remembered the year Mok had left and the long conversations Luthín and Tilyon held. Sometimes strangers would join them, and then Tilyon would set off on random adventures, although I believed them to have some purpose.

  “Ah.” Luthín paused and gave a barely audible sigh. “Some assumed with her gone, the world would be okay, and it was time to come out and rejoice, but they started too soon. Magdela the Monrage merely built a strong foundation for the Black Steeds, and they are quickly building upon it. The Dark Three took over her rule and delegated out duties to those under them. For a few months, it seemed as if the White Steeds were gaining: hiding ceased and celebrations were held openly. Then, the Black Steeds rose up, stronger than before, and continued with their massacres and torture, and many White Steeds were lost because of improper knowledge. If possible, the world is worse than before, and we all stand, holding our breaths and waiting for ‘Song’ to come true.” Then she went on, repeating the words, which seemed familiar; they were words that had been circling for over a hundred years. Years later, I would realize what those words meant to me, and even later, I would hope for them to be true:

  “When the terrorizer of the Black Steeds and White Steeds,

  Magdela the Monrage, has gone and been killed,

  When everyone has gone and hidden in the land down South,

  Up there will rise, Finder of the Jeweled Sword,

  Conqueror of Evil.

  He will come when he is young.

  He will wield the Jeweled Sword.

  He will dissolve the Green Stone.

  Where he goes, the people will no longer live in hiding.

  They will come out and rejoice.

  For evil has receded, but not completely destroyed until the end of Time.”

  - “Song” - as told by

  Paleidir, Lady of the Green People,

  Daughter of King Islider, King of the Green People,

  Wife of Legone the Swift.

  “They celebrated too soon,” I whispered. “But has she been killed?” I asked next.

  “We hear no word,” she said, and then she grew silent.

  I repeated the song in my head and then announced, “But the Lady of the Green, Paleidir, she married a mortal; she married one of the Five Warriors! Why then would the Idrains be against mortals?”

  Luthín shook her head, and I thought I saw a fear behind her eyes. “It is the idea of taking them into our midst, but, no, we are not against them, not anymore at least. You see, that was a long time ago, when the Green People first came here. He followed as he knew would be his next adventure. Tiders are a special people group; they have more reverence for us wild people. He was the only one who entered the secret boundaries and became one with the Iaen. And he was a hero. Then, less than forty years later, Magdela the Monrage arose, and some felt it was due to the influence of a mortal. The fear came upon them, so they shunned the world. Now things are starting to change. When she was sentenced, Tremlore felt Tilyon and I had been right in a way. He wanted us to return, at least for the council, but we sent Mok in our stead...”

  “Is that why he left?” I interrupted, the old hurt eking out again.

  Luthín placed her hand on the table, “Yes,” she murmured, “he went. He heard and sent us a message, and then he strayed too far. The arrows of the Black Steeds found him. I am sorry.”

  I felt angry questions pile up, yet the answers were all before me; it wasn't their fault. I nodded briefly, feeling my hatred for the world and fear of what it could do rising again. “What has been going on since then?” I asked. As afraid as I was to know and have the world outside penetrate my comfort zone, I wanted to know for myself all that went on. I wanted to be aware so I would know where to go for protection and prevention.

  “In the world? Like I told you, things grow worse.”

  “But surely you are not still banished?”

  “No.” Luthín shook her head. “After the council Mok went to, we received word we can return at any time, but the same restrictions for mortals are in place. They are allowed to visit our Green Havens, but never the inner, secret paths of the Iaen and never participate in our councils or midnight dances. We did not return until the next year though, and then we joined the rituals of our kind before returning. Tilyon often leaves to find news, to meet with other Idrains, and to go back to our world. It is hard to live so far away; we often hear the call, and it's hard not to return. Then again, we have been gone so long, it’s hard to return...” She trailed off.

  I heard her words: they spoke of past, they spoke of the present, and they spoke of the future. I realized all would not continue as I wanted it to; things would be different. “What happens next?” I asked. “T
here has to be a reason for all this, for you to change your life because of me, and for Tilyon to always be off. I see the love between you two, and I wonder...”

  A light shone in Luthín's eyes at the mention of his name. “There are larger powers at work. I do not know all that will happen, but I know you must meet your people some time, somehow.”

  “Will you, take me to the fortress?” I asked tentatively.

  “Do you want to go?”

  “No, I want to stay here forever, in this calm place where no evil can reach,” I replied.

  If Luthín found my wish irrational, she did not show it. She only stood. “Come, we will go walk in the forest.”

  I hastily finished my meal, and we left the comfort of the cave and went out to the colorful forest, now blossoming and opening up to the spring weather. “And of love,” she said, once we were under the boughs of the woodlands. “Another word you mentioned would you like to know?”

  “It seems something I will never understand.” Faint memories of my parents sprang up—they were less fearful now—and then dropped away with a bittersweet tang.

  “It is like the spring and the new buds.” She pointed to a tree, completely white with new life, and another, it's soft pink buds just starting to open, but not full yet. She pointed to the flowers, crocuses, and iris springing out of the dark brown mud and sprouting long green blades and purple, pink, red, and blue flowers at the tips. “It's like everything you've ever imagined: all your dreams and wildest wishes mixed together and burst into a volcano of feeling. At first, it's new and uncontrollable, and then you learn how to control some of it, but most of the feeling is free and unpredictable, and it renews itself. Distance is like tasting the first pang of it, and reunion is even more powerful. Your hearts move as one, and you can feel it, ripping with sorrow, healing with joy, and beating together with anticipation.”

  She was already gone, in her wilder world it seemed, with him filling her mind and her heart; all her thoughts were bent on his return. I watched her for a moment and then turned my face away, “I could never hope to love like that. Do mortals love like immortals?” It was more of a thought than a question.

  “I think, if one did not know, they would mistake you for one of us.”

  And that was the greatest compliment.

  ***

  Tilyon did return one evening when I was out watching the sky darken and the nocturnal creatures come out, drifting through the lights of the night. I saw the fireflies dancing away, and the stars far above twinkling. The moon was no more than a sliver in the sky, hiding its full face from the dark place that was the South World.

  No more did Luthín come to guide my way home. I was grown up now, and it only added to my freedom. I could sit outside and think with the shadowed cloak of night falling around me. Even though the birds were quiet, the night seemed more musical anyway. The crickets were chirping. The rhythm of the trees and the more tranquil animals going about their business had a familiar hum to it. I felt calm sitting out there in the peace and quiet, and then, vague as the shadows were, I saw Tilyon as he crept down to the foot of the cave. He made no sound, nor did he enter, he just called, "Luthín," in his musical voice. "Tilyon!" was the reply, and I could not see the evident joy on their faces. I could not sense it vibrating around them, but I knew it was there.

  In the dark light, they shimmered as they came together. Their arms were outstretched before they were wrapped about each other tightly. A soft breeze blew, pulling back their longish, light hair. I saw their lips meet, and then they seemed to melt into each other. I felt as if I were intruding, and so I climbed a tree to be closer to nature.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The Vast Unknown

  A Cron I may be, but I am not one obsessed with adventures and determined to find the mysteries of the forest and the ways of the Iaen. Yet I loved old tales and the sense of being alive, out in the woods, on my own. This lack of adventure did not prevent me from having curiosity. My mind was filled with thoughts of my people. What were they like? Where did they live? What were their habits like? What were the foolishness and impulsiveness the Iaen spoke of? What made them different from me and my life? What linked us together as one kind, one people known as the mortals?

  I wondered if they lived in large castles that were old with stones falling away and ivy growing up their edges. This dream was quickly replaced with the small, one-room hut where I spent the first five years of my life. I wondered how they interacted with one another and if they argued as vigorously as the Iaens seemed to. I was curious up to the point where I felt slightly confused. And then, as thoughts of the indefinite future came, and they came often, I climbed a tree and listened to the world of the forest and the woodland friends, who were busy with their daily lives. Maybe they did not worry about the future, and neither need I.

  I climbed higher and higher, away from the world and closer to freedom, closer to the universe where the stars did not trouble themselves with a hundred-year-old feud between the White Steeds and the Black Steeds. I watched the clouds contrast with the darker sky and the birds flying overhead and the slender tree branches that made it impossible for me to go any higher. There I stayed. More often, I would disappear into the forest and climb into the sky, away from thoughts and words Luthín and Tilyon turned over and over, their counsels, and their plans. All they told me was dark and unsure and spelled out dread and more terror and devastation.

  Up among the clouds, I could dream of sunny days always and lands where storms never came and those closest to me were never taken away. Then I heard a song, straying with the breeze, captivating my ears. I could hear jewels clinking together in the wind and chimes singing and harps playing. I jumped, and far below me, I saw a stream of silver and wings and the rhythm as they fluttered together. As the troupe passed by, I almost fell out of my tree watching them and wondering. Suddenly, I heard the singing voices become louder, and I saw a cloud of gold pass by, shimmering and twinkling, outshining the silver and out singing them. The creatures did not have wings, yet they floated as they ran on air, swiftly they passed, and I only caught a glimpse. Their song affected me most; I felt everything strip away: all thoughts and worries faded, and the past, present, and future drifted away. They were all part of a slow procession floating away into emptiness while their song was real and powerful. I did not understand a word, and, at times, it did not sound as if they were forming words. They simply opened their mouths and song came out. With every breath, a new dream was born. Each movement, each wing flutter, and each footstep was in tune with a deeper beat.

  I stood. My spirit was bright with song, and my heart full of anticipation. I felt I could do anything. I could fly. I could soar. The world around me was nothing; everything seemed small and petty in comparison. I did not recognize the tears, drops of joy, on my face. I felt a deeper sense, almost whispered, almost coming to me, but I could not answer it; I could not move. Maybe it was because I was not one of them, but I caught a glimpse of a shadow of all Iaen and what they meant to each other and the world. It was as if I saw a mirror yet it was vague and barely reflective. Words rushed through my head: “sacred,” “outsiders,” “Iaens,” “singing,” and “dancing.” The language kept changing, and then I was alone.

  I came back to myself as if I had strayed into a dream and caught a glimpse of glory none should ever see. The woods were unnaturally still and silent, and as I stood, closer to the ground than the universe, I was horribly aware of how mortal I was and how I would never understand them. And then, before I could wonder what their coming might mean, a tree branch snapped, although there was no wind. A voice echoed through the wood with a sharp cry of “leave,” or maybe I imagined that word as it broke the stilted silence. I froze.

  ***

  “Myran.” I shuddered at the voice. It was unfamiliar and yet familiar all the same. I had never heard Luthín sound that way. Her voice was tense, as if she were restrained. “It is time to leave,” she said.

&nb
sp; I looked up at her as I stood in the forest. It was the same evening that the voices had come, and she stood before me. A halo of green light shone around her, a glow she could not dismiss. A few feet parted us. She was tall and magnificent, fully in charge, and I was younger and wild, already resisting what her words might mean.

  “Why?” I let the word drop away from me, showing her my displeasure.

  “You have heard them,” she began. She always spoke plainly with me since the day I turned fifteen, but now, something dark seemed to taint her words. “They have come, and we must leave. It is not as easy here as it once was. The distance is affecting our immortality, almost as if we are trading places. You may not feel it, but you are becoming more like us immortals, and we are becoming more like you, more mortal, and it cannot go on. I would not say I should have never brought you here, for this is one of the sacred places of the Idrains, but we have lived our days out to the full allotment, and it is time. They have come to tell us that it is time.”

  She came up to me and slipped two, irregular packets into the pockets of my long, green dress. “Come,” she said, stepping off, farther into the woods.

  I took a step after her and then froze. “I would stay here,” I replied, my voice bold even to my own compliant ears. “Let them come. Here is the place of protection and safety. I do not wish to venture out to the dangers of the world, not again.”

  “Nor would any,” Luthín rejoined, “but we were not asked. I am simply telling you of the way things are.”

  “No, no, I would stay here.”

  “I am telling you that it is time. Come.” She took another step into the forest.

  The trees were black over that way, and my heart pounded in my chest. An adventure was forced upon me. I did not wish it, especially at dark, especially when the moon was not full and the stars seemed to be of old.