Shades of Prophecy

by Tessonja Odette

  “They’re talking about Liam now,” I whispered to Mareleau.

  Her breath caught, but she said nothing.

  Ailan spoke forcefully while a few Elvan argued against her. Their debate moved back and forth until the tribunal bowed their heads to Ailan’s final word.

  “They have accepted Liam as Ailan’s heir,” I said.

  Mareleau let out a long breath.

  But the debate wasn’t quite over. It began to shift yet again as voices spoke out about the mother of the heir. The human mother. Disgust and fear filled their words as the tribunal argued in favor of sending her away, or worse—making her take Last Breath.

  My hands trembled as I gripped the arms of my seat, listening with bated breath as Ailan argued against them, trying to appease their fears while allowing them a fair say.

  Mareleau gripped my hand, and I found that hers was shaking as well.

  Again, the tribunal fell to silence as a decision was agreed upon. I opened my mouth to whisper to Mareleau, to tell her what had been decided, but another argument came forth.

  Sweat dripped down my neck. Another agreement was made.

  Ailan’s eyes flicked toward Mareleau, filled with apology.

  “They said…” My mouth went dry, and I couldn’t find the words to continue. Mareleau’s eyes met mine, her face drained of all color. I swallowed hard and summoned the strength to speak. “They said, as heir, Liam must remain in El’Ara. They have accepted you as Liam’s mother and will allow you to stay in El’Ara with him if you choose to do so. But—”

  “I know.” Mareleau closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her hand went to her heart as she sank back in her chair. “Larylis can’t come. I have to choose between my husband and my son.”

  21

  PROMISE

  Mareleau

  Stupid. So stupid.

  “Mareleau, wait,” Cora called after me.

  I ignored her as I stormed down the hallway. Liam cried in my arms, as if my distress were his own. “Hush,” I whispered gently, my heart breaking as I looked down at his twisted-up face, pink with agitation. I knew he must be hungry, but I refused to nurse him in front of the tribunal and their judging, condemning eyes.

  Why did I do this? Why did I come here?

  I arrived at my room and pushed open the door. Cora was fast on my heels, entering the doorway as I sank onto my bed. My eyes unfocused as I undid the top of my Elvan robe to nurse Liam, tears falling like rain down my cheeks.

  Cora approached me with hesitant steps, then sat next to me on the bed. “I’m sorry.”

  “I never should have come here.” My voice sounded raw.

  “You did what you felt was best.”

  I met Cora’s eyes with a scowl. “Why did I ever think I could trust my own judgment in the first place? Why did I ever believe the Arts could be useful to me? You told me I’d learn which feelings were of fear and which were my inner guidance. Now I know I should have listened to my fear. If I had, I’d be safe at Dermaine Palace with my husband, not trapped in a world that needs my son, yet hates him.” I choked on my words, and my voice grew small. “How could I have put him in danger like this? I thought I was protecting him.”

  Cora edged closer to me. “If you hadn’t found Ailan with me, I’m sure she would have eventually found you. These things have a way of working out like that.”

  “What do you mean these things?”

  “Things that are bigger than we are.”

  There’s something happening that is bigger than me. Bigger than us. That’s what I’d said to Larylis the last night I’d spent with him. Now, I regretted ever saying that. “I don’t care. I still wish I’d stayed at home.”

  “Let’s pretend you did,” Cora said. “Let’s pretend you’d stayed at home and Ailan never found you. Then what would have happened?”

  I shrugged. “I’m sure you’d have figured everything out on your own and found Ailan anyway.”

  “What do you think would have happened after that?”

  “This is pointless,” I said with a grumble.

  “Just humor me.”

  I sighed. “Fine. I’m guessing you’d have told Ailan pretty much everything she now knows. Aside from about me and Liam, I suppose.”

  “And then what?”

  I shrugged. “You’d still have become her ambassador. You would likely both be here now.”

  “You think everything would just continue on exactly the same without you and Liam?”

  I wanted to say yes, but a sinking feeling hit my gut. “Mostly the same.”

  Cora nodded. “Mostly. Except Ailan wouldn’t have an heir. Without Liam, Darius need only find Ailan and kill her to rule El’Ara.”

  “I’m starting to feel like that wouldn’t be the worst option.”

  Cora frowned.

  “I know it sounds horrible,” I said through my teeth. “But after that meeting, I’m finding it even more difficult than before to care about the fate of these people.”

  “You’re forgetting two things,” Cora said. “For one, there’s a good chance Darius will invade Lela to find the tear in the veil. What then? Sure, you and Liam could have stayed home. But can you honestly say you’d feel content staying safe at home while the rest of us fought to defend our land? And if we’d failed, would you have been content doing nothing while you watched Lela crumble around you?”

  Not long ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. I knew I couldn’t do that this time. Still, I wasn’t willing to accept her words so easily. “We don’t even know if any of that will happen. We don’t even know if Darius is alive—”

  “Emylia was certain he is still alive.”

  My mouth hung open as I searched for another argument. “So what if he’s still alive? What if he never invades Lela? What if he kills Ailan and takes over El’Ara without even a second glance at our world?”

  Cora let out an impatient sigh. “That’s the second thing you’re forgetting. Lela is the heart of El’Ara. We know he never wanted to be Morkara, Steward of Magic. He was never content to simply watch over the magic of El’Ara and distribute it according to their Ancient ways. We know, from Morkai, that Darius wanted to become Morkaius—High King of Magic. He wanted to rule the magic and use it for himself. Who knows what power Darius would have as Morkaius? He could pull down the veil completely, bringing Lela straight into the world you are so willing to sacrifice.”

  My stomach sank. She was right.

  She leaned closer to me. “You can trust yourself, Mare. I know it’s hard sometimes. The Arts, our inner guidance—even what Ailan calls the whispers of her weavings—can take us into scary places. Ever since I found Valorre, I feel like I’ve moved from one scary place to the next. But that doesn’t make it wrong. When I look inside, I know I’m on the right path. It might not be the most comfortable path, but I know I have a purpose. Your purpose, it seems, is even bigger than mine.”

  I could almost hear an edge of bitterness in her voice.

  She continued. “I know it hurts to choose what you are being forced to choose. But you can trust yourself to make the right decision, no matter how painful it is.”

  I hated that she was right. I hated how calm and solid I felt after she said those words. The fear still clawed at me, but it no longer held sway. It would be so much easier to give in to that fear. To run away, back to Dermaine and live in ignorant bliss. That is, until Lela became the heart of a world run by a power-hungry Morkaius.

  I looked down at Liam, who had fallen asleep at my breast. “He’s the one who’s important,” I said. “The people here may not see it, but I do.”

  “They will learn,” said a strong voice from the doorway.

  My eyes shot up to see Ailan, and resentment swelled within me. It was her fault this was happening, after all. She was the one who unwittingly dragged us all into this with her weaving. However, my anger fizzled out as quickly as it had come. What was the point of being angry? What was done was done. I let
out a heavy sigh.

  “I’m sorry how you were received today,” Ailan said. “They have forgotten what it is like to have a true Morkara. There is also much they don’t understand about humans. I never realized how much fear and judgment reside in my people.”

  I nodded but didn’t meet her eyes. A lump rose in my throat. “Can I at least say goodbye to them? To my mother? My husband?”

  Ailan’s face fell. “My child, you are no prisoner here. If you wish to leave with Cora when she reports to—”

  “No. I am well aware that I am not a prisoner, but my son is. I will not leave him for a single moment.”

  Ailan hesitated before she walked toward me. “Liam is my heir, not my prisoner.”

  “But he can’t leave.”

  She sighed, stepping closer. “We need to keep him safe here.”

  “I need you to promise I can say goodbye to them, and that they can see Liam one last time before all of this is over.” Before I’m stuck in this cruel, beautiful world forever. Before I never see Larylis again. Before…

  It was too much for me to even imagine. Fresh tears streamed down my face.

  “Of course,” Ailan said, placing a light hand on my shoulder. “I will do whatever it takes to make it so.”

  * * *

  Cora

  I followed Ailan out of the room, leaving Mareleau curled up on her bed with Liam. Her pain had been palpable, nearly impossible for me to avoid absorbing as I’d sat with her. It was a relief to feel the weight of her closed door between us.

  “I’ve changed so much since I’ve been gone,” Ailan said. “I never realized how much the Forest People were influencing me.”

  I walked beside her down the hall. “Is that a bad thing?”

  “The other Elvan would think so. They don’t trust me, just like the Forest People. I’ve lost the trust of both my peoples in a matter of days.”

  “It’s not all of them,” I said, unsure why I felt the need to comfort her after expending so much energy consoling Mareleau. Perhaps it was because the words felt like truth. “Salinda began to trust you again. And I saw many others hugging you goodbye as you left camp, as if your identity was nothing of concern.”

  “Probably because I told them I wouldn’t ask them to fight for me,” Ailan said, eyes on the floor.

  Surprise and relief hit me at once. Maiya came to mind, her worries over her husband being forced to go to war. “I think that was the right thing to do.”

  Ailan nodded. “Fighting against Morkai was one thing. You needed allies and asked the Forest People to help you. They gave you their support of their own free will. It was wrong for me to expect their aid simply for being their Wise Woman. Salinda helped me see that when we met with the elders.”

  “Some of the Forest People will still fight for you,” I said, “if it comes down to it. I’m sure of it. Just like I’m sure the Elvan will warm up to you. Did you know any of them before the veil?”

  “Some,” Ailan said. “The tribunal changes members regularly to allow new El’Arrans to have a turn with our government. Fanon was the only one I knew well, though.”

  I remembered their heated reunion and blushed as I debated how far I wanted to pry. “How well did you know him?”

  She smiled. “He was—is—my consort.”

  “You mean…the two of you are married?”

  Ailan pondered the question before answering. “None of us marry the same way you do in the human world. Each may choose their own partner at will. The Morkara may partner with whomever he or she desires, and any children born from any union are considered valid heirs, unlike in your world. It is only the blood of the Morkara that matters when naming an heir.

  “However, the Morkara is paired with one partner as chosen by the tribunal. This pairing is a way to make alliances and reward certain families—similar to many noble marriages in Lela. The consort of the Morkara bears the additional burden of sharing in the Morkara’s duties and can act as steward if the Morkara is unable to meet certain tasks. Hence, Fanon’s position. As soon as Mother died, the Mora transferred to me. But when I became locked beyond the veil, Fanon was appointed steward. Unfortunately, even as steward, the consort has no ties to the Mora and can’t direct its flow or make any drastic decisions. The Mora simply won’t accept such orders from anyone but the Morkara.”

  I reflected on her words, puzzling over such an odd form of government. “What if you’d never returned?” I asked. “What if both you and Darius had died before either of you named an heir?”

  “The Mora would eventually select a new Morkara, in the case that a current Morkara and all his or her children had perished without a new heir being named,” Ailan explained. “It is clear the Mora knew my brother and I were still alive, as no one had been selected since the veil was cast.” She began to slow her pace and paused outside an open door, extending her hand toward it. “I have provided a more suitable bedroom for you. I’m sorry Fanon had you put in the holding quarters. You aren’t a prisoner here.”

  That explained why I’d felt like one; the room’s purpose was specifically for prisoners. I didn’t mention that the dungeons I’d been held in had been far worse, however.

  “Valorre has been allowed outside, correct?”

  I nodded. “Thank you for that. I know Fanon doesn’t like me.”

  She let out a bitter laugh. “He doesn’t like anyone. It’s been hard on him since I’ve been gone, and learning what I’ve done without him hasn’t made my return easy for either of us. There is love between us, though.”

  I remembered Fanon’s unexpected tears when he first saw Ailan. With a shake of my head, I cleared my mind and entered the room. It was elegant, decorated in shades of gold, violet, and opal. Best of all, it had a proper bed, instead of a cot on the floor.

  Ailan turned to leave, but I spoke before she could take a step. “What happens now?”

  “Hmm?” Her eyes met mine with a furrowed brow, as if she had been distracted by her thoughts.

  “What is our next step?”

  “Ah, yes.” She sighed and entered my new room. “I am going to speak to the Faeran tomorrow and see if I can reconcile our races and work together like we did before the veil. Their kind welcomed me with open arms in Lela, so I’m hoping I can at least begin to make amends for what they blame Fanon for. They don’t understand that he’s had no power over the return of the Mora to either of our races, and—as you well know—he isn’t the best at communicating with others.”

  “What about the tear in the veil? How will you protect it?” I asked.

  “Now that we know where it is, it will be guarded at all times. I’ve already dispatched guards to stand watch on El’Ara’s side. I don’t want to risk relying on the triggers to warn us of invasion.”

  “Do you have a next step for me?” I twisted my hands to keep from nibbling my thumbnail. I was eager to know what lay ahead, yet terrified at the same time.

  “Tomorrow you will return to your kingdom and share what you have learned,” Ailan said. “Send your own guards to the other side of the veil in Lela but keep them discreet. The last thing we need is for a group of guards to give away the location of the tear.”

  “When do I report back to you?”

  “You said your husband has sent scouts to learn more about Darius, correct? See if he has learned anything and send more scouts if you must. If you hear anything about Darius and his potential plans, report back to me immediately. Otherwise, return here once you have assured Lela’s forces will support us. Once I have that peace of mind, I can begin to come up with a plan.”

  I nodded, and she again turned away. Words bubbled up in my throat and came out in a rush. “What will happen to Lela when this is all over?”

  Ailan paused and cocked her head.

  “When Darius is destroyed and both Lela and El’Ara are safe…what happens to me? To my husband and all the people in our kingdom? To the people of Kero and Vera?”

  “Ah,” she said with
a sigh. “I see the true question in your eyes, and the answer is yes, El’Ara must have its heart again. Once the threat from Darius is gone, I will need to find a way to undo my mother’s veil and bring Lela home where it belongs. When it returns, the Mora will return as well. The strength of my people’s talents will be like they were before the veil. Another weaving will be made, protecting El’Ara from others for good. This time, it won’t be made under the pressure of time and war. This time it will last.”

  “I figured as much,” Cora said, “but that doesn’t explain what will happen to my people. Where will we go? Will we be forced to leave our land and make new homes elsewhere? Or will we become citizens of El’Ara?”

  “I wish I had an easy answer, my child.” Ailan’s face was full of sympathy. “That is not something I am thinking about right now, as we have much more pressing matters to attend. However, I promise you I will do whatever it takes to protect both our peoples. I won’t rest until our two worlds are safe and every person in Lela has a home.”

  I could sense the conviction in her words. She really did intend to protect us all—human, Elvan, and Faeran alike.

  Still, I couldn’t shake the sinking in my gut. I let her walk away, swallowing my lingering question. What happens if you are no longer around to bring that promise to fruition?

  22

  TRUTH

  Cora

  The wall of mist hovered in the distance as we walked amongst the dead, gray trees and crumbling soil. Ferrah swooped overhead now and then, blocking out the meager, gray light as her wings spread out like a moving canopy. Valorre stayed close to me but no longer seemed startled by the dragon.

  I glanced at Mareleau walking silent and pale-faced at my side, then at Ailan, who followed closely behind. Ailan’s lips were pressed into a tight line as she stared grimly ahead at the growing wall of white. She met my gaze and seemed to relax slightly. “The sight of the veil is unnerving,” she said. “Not to mention the decaying land.”