by R. L. Poston
Arriving at the dining hall with Taz, Larken was greeted with a sudden hush that instantly let him know that his hybrid breeding was no secret. In a few seconds, however, he was surrounded by a crowd of people who were both excited and openly curious about his nature and his abilities. While Larken was relieved at the positive nature of others’ curiosity, he was completely baffled about how to deal with the situation of being hemmed in by so many people. He was beginning to panic when he heard Gahen’s rough shout over the babble, “All right, enough! Everyone sit down and leave the lad alone!”
While everyone did not sit down, Gahen’s shout did freeze everyone enough for him to wade through the small crowd, grab Larken by the arm, and steer him to a table. Pushing Larken to a seat and waving Taz to another one, Gahen ordered two soldiers already at the table to find seats elsewhere. Then, turning to the room, Gahen announced that anyone approaching Larken that evening had better have official business from the king.
That announcement quieted the room, but produced an undercurrent of grumbling. Turning to Larken, Gahen said, “Don’t worry, kid. They’ve all been angry at me before. They’ll get over it.”
Seeing Melona across the room, Gahen waved her over to the table. When they all had been seated and served, Gahen was the first to speak. “Well, kid, you’re just full of surprises. Why didn’t you tell us that you were part Elf?”
Larken, again, was struck speechless. Taz, however, very effectively rescued him by slapping Gahen’s arm and scolding him. “Gahen, be quiet. Don’t tease him. Larken, don’t mind him. He’s part warthog.”
Taz’s comment and Gahen’s answering wink at Larken broke the tension and opened the door for an exciting dinner conversation.
Melona could hardly contain her excitement and joy over the news. She kept touching Larken as if to reassure herself that he was real. “I always knew you were special,” she kept saying.
Larken’s mood was quickly elevated by their opinion that to be part Elven was a special gift. By the end of the evening, he, also, had begun to think of it as a good thing, particularly since Melona seemed to think that it was delightful. It was only much later that he began to doubt that assessment when Melona developed the habit of dismissing some of his less enviable qualities by remarking, “Oh, that’s just the Elf in him.”
In the month that followed, Larken’s Warder training went from difficult to excruciating. The mornings were filled with demands and drills that previously Larken would have considered impossible for any man to accomplish. Somehow, he found the strength and determination to continue to meet his instructors’ demands. His skills with unarmed and armed combat were sharpened to near perfection. His grasp of tactics and strategy was pushed far beyond anything that a mere smith’s apprentice could imagine. In addition, his resolve and dedication grew as he realized how strong he was in Talent.
In the afternoons, Larken first learned the easiest of the mental techniques of the Elves, the sending and receiving of mental messages. He then learned how to completely close his mind to others’ transmissions. More importantly, this technique effectively blocked the reading of his thoughts by others. He then learned the more difficult technique of trying to read someone else’s thoughts while blocking any access to his own. Lastly, he learned to unconsciously block his mind off even while asleep. To his consternation, this last technique ended his dreams of Dark Elves, reinforcing his belief that the dreams were not of his own creation.
By the end of the month of Elven training, he had learned how to selectively receive or block transmissions from one person while allowing another’s. Fortunately, the uncomfortable feeling of pressure and nausea that previously occurred whenever he chose to receive their transmissions soon vanished. He developed the habit of keeping his thoughts shielded all the time. If Eleas or Elerdan tried to send a thought to him, he perceived it as a slight mental pressure accompanied by their signature and could respond to it selectively.
He had thrown himself full-heartedly into the effort of facing his fears with Leona. With both Eleas and Elerdan assisting, he had resolved most of his doubts and fears about himself, but, stubbornly, the barrier to his early memories stayed intact. Although it had ceased to be a major concern of the Healers, it was a constant background worry for him. The Healers repeatedly assured him that most people had barriers to some memories that had long outlived their purpose, but which stood firm as relics of the past. Larken, however, could not accept fully that the barrier was natural. It just felt wrong to him.
“I have progressed much, but what about the perception of other life?” he asked mentally of Eleas and Elerdan at the beginning of their afternoon session on the day before his Bonding was to take place. Larken had come to appreciate the rich tapestry of mental communication that lay beneath the Elven trait of stillness. As his skill with his Elven Talents increased, Larken had also developed the habit of using thoughts to communicate with Eleas and Elerdan instead of verbal speech. He had grown comfortable with his ability to share thoughts with the two Elves, but they had not yet trained him to sense forms of life.
“We can try that now,” said Eleas, “but your ability to do that may not develop until your Bonding. Most of us do not develop that ability until we are fully grown, and many do not develop that ability until they are Bonded to Stone. Even then, some remain very weak in this Talent, and a few never develop it. But let us try. Close your eyes. We will now completely shield our minds. Try to see us, not our thoughts, with your mind.”
Larken closed his eyes and stretched out with his mind but achieved nothing. Eleas and Elerdan, however, were patient teachers, and they followed each failure with more guidance and instruction, until finally Larken became aware of what seemed to be two faint glimmers of light near him. Unfortunately, Larken had to end his efforts at that point, finding that the exercise was producing too much fatigue and nausea for him to continue.
“You saw us,” said Elerdan when they concluded the session. “We are pleased with that. Your discomfort will decrease with practice. You have done well and have learned much quickly. You will find that each type of being has its own light. The most Talented claim that even non-living objects have light, but that is something that very few of us experience.”
When Larken nodded his understanding, Elerdan said, “Tomorrow you will be Bonded. It is now time to answer some questions that you have held. We must give you knowledge that we have withheld, so that you may choose wisely tomorrow.” Sensing Larken’s questions forming, Elerdan said quickly, “Patience, I will explain much now. First, you must know of the Elven place in the world. What do you know of us?”
Larken sent a picture of a tall, slim, fair Elf. Conspicuous in his image were the opal in the headband, a long bow and quiver of arrows, stillness, and the ability to seemingly vanish in the forest.
“That is good,” remarked Elerdan. “You are learning to send images rather than thoughts. Now, we will use speech. We need to tell you much.
“Dark Elves exist. They did not always. Before the Seagrave became, there was much exchange between the two homes of the Elves in the two mountain ranges, between us in the Sarkan Mountains and our brothers in the Driskan Mountains. After the Seagrave, we lost touch with our brothers in the Driskan mountains.
“Elves cannot abide the absence of water as well as humans. Our skin does not do well in the desert. Neither can we abide the sun as much as humans. It burns not only our skin, but our eyes as well. You have seen that we stay in the shade of the castle when we train outside. It is necessary if we are to remain healthy.
“Elves are tireless, but not as strong as humans. Our bones are light and give us quickness and speed, but they are not as strong as human bones. We cannot stand the bouncing of a horse or wagon. Therefore, we do not travel much beyond the mountains. We live apart from most humans and, since the Seagrave, from our distant brothers.
“We can hide our presence from humans by telling their mind not to notice us. So even when we travel,
we pass mostly unseen in your world except by those whose minds are strong.
“Working together, we can send messages across long distances, but we lost touch with our Driskan brothers long ago. They live close to the home of the Dark One. Some of us began to dream of Dark Elves. We believed that the Dark One, the one you call the Dread King, had made our brothers into evil things. Then a few dark brothers began to return to us, fleeing the Dark One. You sensed our presence as light, as we do also. We could not sense their presence except as a wrongness in the web of life. They were closed to us. They had no light. They were darker in skin and hair, but also in mind. Most were twisted in mind beyond our skills to heal. They were filled with fear and hatred. Those we caught died within days. They could not abide our presence. Others eluded us and fled; some to the Seagrave, where they died. Some fled to the east away from the mountains. They avoided both Elven and humans. Most died in fear. We know of one who survived. Her mind was burned. She had lost most of her memory. She was found by a Warder and succored. He succeeded in gaining her trust. He took care of her. You are her son.”
“I am the son of a Dark Elf and a Warder?” Larken asked.
“Of a Dark Elf maiden, but the other we do not know. Your mother, Glendra was what she called herself, bore you a few months after the Warder Galren found her. He took her to his home. King Andreas sent to us for assistance. We knew that she could not abide our presence, so Galren took you and her under his care. We hoped that Glendra would find ease and peace in your raising and would be able to tell us of our lost brothers.”
“Galren wasn’t my father?”
“No.”
“Who was?”
“We don’t know, but he must have been human and had Talented.”
“What about the fire?” Larken asked as he felt his missing fingers ache. “What started the fire?”
“You have felt the barrier within you. We felt the disturbance when your Healers tried to penetrate it. We cannot see within it, nor do we know what is in it. After the fire, it blocked our understanding, so we do not know what caused the fire. From the signs left by the fire, it came from inside. Glendra, your mother, could not stand the presence of our presence, so we never talked to her. We know she lived in constant fear. She might have set your home on fire to burn away the fear. She might have feared that the Dark One would find her and chose to die in the fire. We do not know. Galren lost his life trying to save you and your mother. He saved you, but was unable to save himself or Glendra.”
“My mother set the fire?” asked Larken.
“We don’t think that she realized what she was doing. The Dark Elves we captured carried a fear inside them stronger than death. We could not understand it because they were closed to us. They were dark to us. You carry the same darkness. With your Bonding tomorrow, you may gain the power to see inside your darkness. You may find the Dark One or only the memory of the fire that destroyed your home. We do not know.”
Larken nodded his acceptance of that. “Why are you telling me this now, and what am I supposed to do about all of this?”
“You must be prepared.”
“Why allow me to be Bonded at all?”
“We have no other choice. Our councils sense that there is coming a struggle in which we, humans and Elves, will need your strength. Our dark brothers increasingly flee from a power that is beyond our ken. We have confronted a power such as that only once before, and we were far stronger then.”
Knowing that he had to know, he asked, “The Hidden King, is he the power you confronted? Is he the power you fear now? Is he alive?”
“Yes. If not him, then another like him. Something has twisted our Dristan brothers, and they flee from it. We sense a darkness growing, but it is closed to us.”
Larken suddenly understood with a sickening fear. “And I am half Dark Elf and half human, and you fear that the human side came from the one who causes the darkness—the Dark One.”
“Yes, but we do not know. You are not fully Elven. Humans and Elves do not mate well. Human flesh is too strong for Elven flesh. Again, we do not understand, but your Talent is too strong to be from the Elven side. We fear that which is within you, but we do not know its nature. Even if it is not the Dark One, we do not know the limits of your Talent. Tomorrow you will be Bonded to Blade and to Stone. You may become strong enough to Bond both human and Elven kind to yourself. You must be prepared, for we do not know what will happen.”
“I will not seek to be the master of others,” Larken replied.
“The choice may not be yours. The choice may not be allowed. The part of you that is hidden may become too strong with Bonding. Even if it is only your own pain, it may drive you to want what you do not want now. We cannot guess what will happen, but you must be prepared. The gift of strength almost always carries with it the temptation to control others.”
“If this hidden part of me allows me no choice, what else could I do?”
“We do not know. If you can choose, you must be careful of what you choose. We do not know what will happen. We will help if we can.”
One other thing bothered Larken. Something that Elerdan had said reminded him of something that Gahen had said. “Elerdan,” he had asked, “you said that the Elves were much stronger before. Gahen also said that the Warders desperately needed my Talent. Are the Warders also weaker than before?”
After a long pause, Eleas had spoken. “For many years, our Talents have been decreasing. For both Elves and humans, there are fewer each year that are found with Talent and the power of the Talented is decreasing. Your friend Gahen was stronger when we first knew him. We do not know the reason, but our Talents are growing weaker. You are the first to be not so. You are the first to grow in Talent. You are our hope as well as our fear.”
By the end of the afternoon, Larken was left with much more information and much less confidence about himself. Begging off from supper, Larken was granted the evening to meditate on a high parapet of the tower. Even though he was still supposed to be under constant supervision by the Warders and Healers, he was left alone with just a tenuous mental connection to the two Elves to ensure his safety.
Standing on the parapet, grasping the stone, waist-high wall, Larken watched the last glows of daylight fade over the distant horizon to the west. Larken felt the darkness also gather in his heart as he heard again in his memory the speech of the Elves.
Larken did not sleep. Neither did he notice the rising of the sun. Only when Gahen came for him did he move. He did not even react when Gahen placed his hand on his shoulder. “It is time,” Gahen said.
Gahen almost stepped back when Larken finally turned and looked at him. Although Gahen did not know most of Larken’s concerns, something in Larken’s eyes almost caused Gahen to flinch. “Yes, I know,” Larken said. “It is time.”
Chapter 8: Larken’s Bonding
Larken bathed and dressed for the ceremony. His mind was calm, not from peace, but from resignation and exhaustion. He had wrestled with his dilemma all night long without reaching any resolution. He believed that he would not willingly harm anyone, but he had not forgotten his first experience of the testing of his Talent by the Healers. He could not deny the memory of rage at the Healers’ touch. He knew that no decision that he could make now would stand if he were to be changed into something else, and he had no doubt that the darkness within him would seek to change him if he could not control it. His only hope was to be stronger than the darkness.
He did not seek to block the Elves’ mental touch upon his mind; therefore, he knew that they understood his resolve. He would fight to control the darkness that might come from within during his Bonding. The increase in power and Talent that he had been told to expect might help defeat the darkness within him. But it might instead feed the darkness within him and make it too powerful to be controlled. Of that, he was much afraid. He had resolved to try to destroy the Bonding before he was overtaken if he could not control the darkness. However, he gave this plan
very little chance of success. If he could not control the darkness, it would swiftly corrupt him, just as it almost had in his testing. His last hope was with those who would be keeping watch over the Bonding and in their ability to act swiftly.
At last, he was led to the main throne room in the castle. It seemed strangely empty although the sides were lined with most of the resident Healers, Warders, High Council members, and visiting Elves. This was to be no public celebration. The public was unaware that a Bonding was to occur. Later, if all turned out well, a celebration could be scheduled. For now, however, safety was tantamount.
Sitting on the throne was King Andreas. Sitting to his right was Henkri, the first chair. However, Larken’s gaze passed quickly over the king and the first chair to the occupant of the chair on the left of the dais. In this chair sat an eerily beautiful Elven woman. A soft radiance seemed to emanate from her, although Larken wasn’t sure that this wasn’t just his imagination. She was tall and slender and dressed in a long flowing white gown. Her silver hair cascaded down around her. When Larken first saw her, she was turned toward Andreas and listening to something he was saying.
Then she turned to the approaching party and looked directly at Larken. As he met her eyes, Larken suddenly knew who she was. Eleas and Elerdan had described her as they had told Larken of his Elven heritage. She was Aletha, the queen of the Sarkan Elves who gave her allegiance, from both loyalty and devotion. Such was the devotion of the Elves to their queen that there was rarely a schism among the ranks of the Elves. Even the loss of the Dristan Elves had resulted from a geographic isolation, not a rebellion against their queen.
