The Godling Chronicles

by Brian D. Anderson

“I am,” he affirmed.

  The woman appeared greatly relieved upon hearing this. “Then you are a most welcome sight. My Lord has been sickly of late, and an old friend might be just the remedy he needs.” She waved him over. “Come. Let us remove ourselves from this wretched heat.”

  Linis bowed and then proceeded through the gate. When Ursil spotted Jayden coming with him, she paused. “And who is this handsome young elf?”

  “This is my nephew,” Linis said quickly, before Jayden could speak.

  “My name is Jayden, my Lady,” he told her, with a courteous bow.

  “And do you know my lord as well?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “He’s a bit too young to have made his acquaintance,” added Linis.

  Ursil laughed. “Dear me. I can never tell how old you elves are. For all I know, you could be a hundred and not look a day over twenty. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”

  “I just turned eighteen,” Jayden informed her.

  She smiled. “That’s coming of age for a human. Though for an elf, I imagine you’re just out of diapers.”

  Jayden bristled, but held his tongue. It was true that for an elf he would be little more than a child. But in spite of his appearance, he was not an elf. He was….

  He was what? He wasn’t human. Not even half-human. So what then? A half-man? But half-men were half-human and half-god. The idea that he could not define himself was oddly upsetting.

  The path leading to the house was lined with marble statues of elf maidens, each one holding aloft a crystal orb. The well-kept garden beyond was criss-crossed with walkways and benches where one could laze and relax. The building itself had been crafted from a highly polished deep gray stone, with a colonnade spanning the front that served to support a balcony directly overhead. The balustrade of this had been expertly sculpted into intricate flowery vines and was capped with a silver rail.

  “He must be very rich,” Jayden muttered to himself.

  Despite his low voice, Ursil heard him. She barely caught a laugh in her throat. “Lord Malstisos? Rich? No, not at all. This manor is owned by Lord Broin, though he has tried to gift it to my lord many times. He always refuses, though, bless him. Nevertheless, Lord Broin provides enough gold that the home is maintained and the servants are paid.”

  They ascended a broad staircase that ended at an archway, at the other side of which was a small stone fountain surrounded by wrought-iron benches. The air here was remarkably cooler, even though the sun blazed down from a cloudless sky. Linis stopped by the fountain’s edge to dip his finger in the water. Touching this to his tongue, he smiled.

  “I thought I smelled havash.”

  “My Lord has it brought from the west,” Ursil told him. “Though lately, goods shipped from his homeland are arriving rather more infrequently.”

  Jayden sniffed the air. Nothing but the overwhelming scent of the flowers wafting in from the garden reached him. He knelt beside Linis and tasted the water. It was bitter, though not unpleasantly so.

  “Amazing stuff, that,” said Ursil. “It cools the entire house. Makes it feel like late fall all the year round.”

  Linis glanced over to Jayden. “Can you feel it?”

  “Feel what?”

  “The flow. Havash draws it in so that it cools the air and revitalizes the spirit.”

  Jayden shook his head. He could feel nothing, and noticed that Ursil was looking confused.

  Linis spotted her confusion as well. “Jayden has been raised mostly around humans thus far,” he quickly explained.

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Is that right? Well, he’ll have no trouble finding elves for company in Baltria. The city is thick with them. In fact, there are usually a few that gather in this very spot.”

  She nodded toward the fountain. “They come to enjoy the havash.” Her features darkened. “Sadly, I’ve had to close the manor to visitors since my lord took ill. He would insist on greeting all who came, even when he lacked the strength. And then there are the times…” Her voice trailed off.

  “What has happened?” asked Linis.

  “I don’t know. He took ill a couple of weeks back. No one knows what is wrong with him. Most days he stays in bed, and some of the things he says…they just don’t make any sense at all.”

  The pain and concern in her voice was clear. Linis placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I will try to help him if I can,” he promised.

  She forced a smile. “You are as kind as my lord described. But I fear it will be to no avail. Many have already tried, and not even the elf healers from across the Abyss have been able to help. You know, the ones who use magic. Or the flow, as you call it.”

  Linis thought for a moment. “Are you familiar with the Temple of Amon Dahl?” he asked.

  Ursil’s eyes darted around the courtyard. “Yes,” she whispered. “That is where many of the healers have come from.”

  “Good. Now please take me to your lord. Then I would ask that you send word to the Amon Dahl temple that I am here.”

  She gave him a grateful nod. “It will take a day to reach them, and another for them to respond. I’ll have rooms prepared for you.”

  “That won’t be necessary. We already have rooms at an inn.”

  “Nonsense,” the woman said, waving a hand. “I’ll not have friends of my lord staying at some dirty old inn.”

  Linis smiled and bowed. “Thank you. You are very kind.”

  “Kind? I don’t know about that. But I do know my lord would be very unhappy indeed with me if I did not provide you with full hospitality.”

  “Then I will retrieve our belongings after I’ve seen Malstisos.”

  Ursil nodded briskly. “Excellent. Now, if you will follow me.”

  She led the way into the manor at a brisk pace. Given the lavish design of the exterior and the extravagance of the garden, the interior décor was rather understated. Though the furniture was certainly well crafted and the paintings and tapestries beautiful, everything had a somewhat used look attached to it. Chairs were obviously meant to be sat upon, while the baubles and keepsakes appeared to be much handled. Jayden half expected to see children playing on the rugs.

  “Until recently the house was always filled with visitors,” Ursil said.

  “What changed things?” asked Linis.

  She shrugged. “Many of the elves are going east to live in the desert. Others are heading west to aid their kin with the troubles brewing out there.” A sigh slipped out. “You’d think with the war being over, people would be weary of fighting by now.”

  “Change comes slowly,” said Linis.

  “Too slowly,” she agreed. “And please forgive me for saying this, but the elves are as stubborn as any human alive. My poor lord spends half of his time trying to convince his own people that this world must be shared.”

  Jayden raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen any sign of troubles here.”

  “There isn’t. Not with the residents. The elves who choose to live here do so in peace. It’s those passing through that are the problem. You can see it in their eyes…the disgust and anger.”

  “What about the humans?” Jayden asked.

  “They can be just as bad, though they mind their manners if they know what’s best for them. But some of the worst ones did move east to the smaller villages along the coast recently. Good riddance, if you ask me. Not even Saraf was able to get through to that lot.”

  Linis cocked his head. “Saraf?”

  “You haven’t heard about that?” Ursil laughed. “The god of the sea himself appeared. Right on the docks, if you can believe it.”

  “Did you see him?” asked Jayden.

  “No. But hundreds did. From what I’ve heard, there was a bright flash of light and then there he was, hovering above the docks. Started telling the people to set aside their differences and begin building a new world together. Then, as quick as that, he was gone again.”

  “Interesting,” mused Linis.

>   “Meddlesome, if you ask me,” Ursil retorted. “If the gods really wanted to help, they should have never allowed that bloody war to happen in the first place. Now they want to come around and start telling people what to do? Saraf isn’t the only one, either. I’ve heard that other gods have made appearances in the temples out west.”

  “Do you believe the accounts?”

  “Before Saraf came, I’d have said no. But now…yes, I think it’s probably true.”

  Linis wore a look of deep concern. “Has Amon Dahl had anything to say on the matter?”

  “Not that I know of. But then, they don’t tell me much. All the same, you can bet they are looking into it.”

  “I’m sure they are.”

  They were now approaching Malstisos’s chamber. The door to this room was slightly ajar, and hushed voices could be heard coming from within. Yet when the three of them stepped inside, only Malstisos could be seen. Wrapped in a wool blanket and with his hair bound in a tight ponytail, he was sitting in a plush chair at the foot of his bed, thumbing through an old leather-bound book.

  The moment they entered, his face brightened. “Linis, my old friend.”

  He began to rise, but his face quickly twisted in pain and he plopped heavily back down.

  Linis was at his side in an instant. “You should be in bed,” he said.

  “Indeed he should,” agreed Ursil.

  As Linis helped Malstisos gently back into his bed, Jayden could see how thin and frail he looked – the very picture of an elf of extremely advanced years.

  Almost everywhere Jayden looked within the spacious chamber there were bookshelves, every one of them stuffed to capacity with dauntingly thick tomes. As an extra measure, two large tables had been shoved into a corner, both of which were almost groaning under the weight of yet more books and stacks of loose parchment. Jayden had seen people obsess over books before. Millet had quite an impressive collection, in fact. But this seemed to be just desperate and chaotic.

  “I’ll be fine,” said Malstisos, in a tone that convinced no one.

  Linis took his hand and frowned. “You are not well. I can feel it.”

  The elf waved his free hand dismissively. “It’s nothing, I tell you. I’ll be up and about and as good as new within a few days.” He eyed Ursil. “Though if you were to ask her, I’ll probably be dead at any moment.”

  “If you don’t get your rest, you will be,” she scolded. Moving to the other side of the bed, she made a fuss over adjusting his blanket.

  His eyes shifted over to Jayden. “Is that who I think it is?” he asked.

  He stepped forward and bowed. “I am Jayden Stedding.”

  This confirmation brought a smile to Malstisos’s face. He turned to Ursil. “Will you excuse us for a while, please?”

  The woman scowled. “Just make sure he stays put,” she told Linis.

  He nodded. “You have my word on it.”

  After she had left them, Malstisos waved Jayden to come closer. “Let me look at you. Sweet spirits, you really are the image of your father.”

  “Thank you,” said Jayden.

  Linis could not hide his surprise. “You remember Gewey Stedding?”

  “I do indeed,” he replied. “I remember Darshan quite clearly now. In fact, many memories I had thought lost have returned to me of late, some of which I would have preferred to stay hidden.”

  “How is that possible?”

  Malstisos shrugged. “I cannot say. But I do know I am most pleased to see you. There is much to discuss.”

  Chapter Five

  Jayden listened patiently as Malstisos recounted the events of his life since the end of the war. At times he seemed to forget where he was and would often lose track of what he was saying. Jayden could see the sorrow written on Linis’s face as he held his friend’s hand and forced a smile whenever he became confused.

  “But I have talked more than enough,” Malstisos said, after more than two hours. “I want to hear about you, young Jayden. Why have you never come to visit Baltria before now?”

  “I stay busy with the farm mostly,” he replied. “My sisters have written to me about it many times, though. And I had planned to come directly after this year’s harvest.”

  “Your sisters?” He looked confused for a moment. “What are…”

  After a moment or two, his eyes lit up. “Ah yes, I remember now. Penelope and May…bell.” Tears suddenly began spilling down his cheeks. “Poor, sweet Maybell. I am so sorry I failed you.” He covered his face, weeping into his hands.

  “You didn’t fail her,” Linis told him. “You brought her back safely. You were very brave.”

  “No...no...I failed her. I surrendered to darkness. I let it beat me, and now she is gone.”

  He continued sobbing uncontrollably. Linis caught Jayden’s eyes and gestured to the door. But before he could reach it, Malstisos called out to him.

  “Please. Do not go. Not yet. Forgive me, I sometimes lose my grip on the day. It will pass.”

  Jayden shot a questioning glance to Linis before replying. “Are you sure?”

  “Please,” Malstisos begged, wiping his eyes. “My illness affects me in strange ways.”

  “Do you think that is because of what happened to you on the Steppes?” Linis asked him.

  He nodded. “Possibly.”

  “What did happen to you there?” asked Jayden.

  Malstisos did not reply immediately. Instead, he reached over to pick up a cup from the nightstand. After taking a long drink, he sighed with pleasure. “You know, there was a time when I thought I would never taste wine properly again. It was like ash in my mouth.” He sat the cup down. “Do you enjoy wine as well?”

  “I do,” answered Jayden.

  He smiled weakly. “That is good. Always find time for the simple pleasures in life. You never know when the darkness will come for you.” He shifted in the bed. “Now, you wanted to know what happened to me.”

  “It isn’t necessary,” said Linis. “I can tell him the story. You should rest now.”

  “Nonsense. I’m feeling much better. Though I am surprised he hasn’t heard the tale already. Do you not speak of those days?”

  “I only found out that my father is Darshan a short time ago,” explained Jayden.

  Malstisos raised an eyebrow. “Is that right? So you had no idea that you are the son of the mighty god who saved the world?” Seeing Jayden shake his head, he sighed. “Yes, I suppose that is understandable. Such a burden it must be. But you should be very proud of your father. Without him, we would have all perished. That, however, is another story. Mine, I’m afraid, is not all that interesting. And I was nowhere near as brave as Linis would have you believe.”

  Malstisos recounted his journey from Hazrah with Maybell, and then how the Vrykol had put the corruption of the Reborn King inside him.

  “Much of what happened after that is lost,” he said. “Lately, some of it has come back to me, though not enough to tell the full story. All I know for sure is that I was healed just after the death of Theopolou and returned to Althetas.”

  “And what happened to Maybell?” asked Jayden, fascinated by the tale.

  “She sacrificed her life to save your father,” Linis chipped in. “A sacrifice she would not have been able to make without the strength of Malstisos. He resisted the evil inside him long enough to deliver her safely.”

  Malstisos smiled and touched Linis’s hand. “You are kind to say this.”

  “It sounds like bravery to me,” remarked Jayden. “But I’m curious. You say you only recently remembered my father?” He looked to Linis. “Maybe this has something to do with what’s happened to Mother?”

  Linis nodded. “Yes, it might well have.”

  He explained the situation to Malstisos. “Kaylia has fallen ill. That is what brought us here. Darshan has gone missing, and we have come to search for him.”

  The old elf thought for a long moment. “This is terrible news indeed. Sadly, I cannot remem
ber anything that might be of help to you. Although some memories returned to me a few weeks ago, I have been in decline for more than a year.”

  He paused before adding: “But now that I think about it, he did come to see me fairly recently.”

  Linis leaned forward. “Really? You mean he actually revealed his full identity to you?”

  Malstisos shook his head. “No. That’s the strange thing. At the time I did not recognize him at all. He came posing as a grain merchant, wanting to know about how things stood between the elves and humans here in Baltria.” His look of confusion grew. “It is odd. I should have known him right away. But I didn’t. Why do you suppose that is?”

  “It’s not your fault,” Linis told him. “After the war was over, Darshan removed the memory of any connection between him and Gewey Stedding from people’s minds. Only a very few of us who were close to him retained the knowledge.”

  “Ah, I see. That would explain it then. I knew him, though I would not say we were exceptionally close. Not like you or Lord Starfinder were. How is Lee, by the way?”

  “Lee is dead,” Linis replied.

  “Oh, yes, that’s right. I forgot. A pity. He was a good man.”

  “Yes, he was.”

  Malstisos’ eyes began to droop. “So many of my friends are gone. Those who remain never come to see me.”

  “I am sorry,” said Linis. “Had I known you were ill, I would have come much sooner.”

  “So many lost.” The elf’s voice was becoming weak, his eyes distant. “Time. That is the enemy, Jayden. Time. We never have enough time. Save him. Save your father. He will need you to be strong.”

  “Are you sure you don’t know where he is?” Jayden asked.

  “The war. He fights the war still.”

  “The war is over,” Linis said quietly.

  “The war is never over. Darshan fights…”

  Malstisos closed his eyes.

  After tenderly touching his friend’s brow and with tears welling in his eyes, Linis led the way out of the chamber. Just before reaching the door, Jayden glanced back. Aside from being too thin, Malstisos did not look to be seriously ill. Yet there was something around his eyes, as if the life were being slowly drained away from his spirit, leaving him a hollow shell.