Eliesmore and the Jeweled Sword

by Angela J. Ford

Long may you live.

  Long may you prosper.

  Another seven versus rotated through her mind. The cadence danced in her thoughts, yet the meaning was lost. It seemed she was ever on the cusp of retaining the lost words, yet they escaped her again and again.

  “Are we close?” Glashar placed a hand on a tree trunk, examining it as if it were sending her a message.

  “Do you know where we are?” Ellagine brushed memories from her mind, returning to the present.

  Glashar’s face was pale and drawn. The whites of her eyes were red, drowning in grief. They had traveled long, almost without rest since Glashar and Visra did not need the refreshment sleep provided. Ellagine slept when she could, waking when Glashar demanded they move on, anxious to hear the words the Truth Tellers would relay.

  “No,” Glashar turned to face Ellagine, her eyes questioning. “Long as I have lived, this is a part of the forest I have never seen.”

  Visra was strangely quiet. Ellagine had mentioned to her that she need not come with them to hunt for the Truth Tellers, yet Visra had laughed and insisted on trailing along.

  “The woods have always obeyed the desires of the Green People,” Ellagine told her. “It opens at our command. The Truth Tellers cannot be found unless we wish it.”

  Glashar folded her arms around her waist, her golden hair brushing her face as she leaned forward. Her tone was hostile as she asked again. “I know. Are we close?”

  “Yes,” Ellagine replied, holding her head high as she led them, determined not to let Glashar’s unfriendliness bother her.

  It was sometime later, much later, when they reached a circle of trees. A glade within the woods held a tented circle of four trees. Their boughs interlocked, hiding the light from the skies, sinking into darkness. The grass was rich and dark in that area, long and unkempt. A place none had entered in an age. Leaves as black as night fell from rich brown bark. A steady stream, blue as sapphires, flowed downward like snow, creating a secondary carpet for them to walk upon.

  Ellagine held up a hand, forcing them to stop. A hush of reverence blanketed the silent wood until they could hear the leaves settling into place on the ground. A soft whisper moved through the air, a shiver of hope, doubt, and fear, a collection of emotion as plain as the air they breathed wilted around them. Ellagine lifted her arms, swallowing the lump in her throat, watching the green glow settle around her body.

  Swaying back and forth she began to chant while flames of yellow and green fire rose around her like a pillar, engulfing her body with heated words. Her voice carried across the sullen glade, calling forth the creatures who held the secrets of the world. A struggle issued beneath her voice, they did not want to be called, they did not want to come. Even with her eyes closed, she could see them standing in the heart of the South World, watching the core of all living beings rise and fall. They stood in the valley, watching the seed of the Four Worlds as it breathed, their backs to her, their white hair standing on end like the tentacles of an Actimic. One lifted a white arm, touching the shoulder of a second one who turned, lidless eyes meeting Ellagine’s. As one, the three white beings faced Ellagine, their hair moving in the windless atmosphere as they began to walk across the barrier that kept them from the surface.

  “Why?” one of them asked with a tone as hard as diamonds.

  “I call you on behalf of another,” Ellagine’s lips moved as if on their own accord, hurling words across the void.

  “What will you give us in exchange for knowledge?”

  “She will conduct the exchange.”

  “When the full moon rises, we will enter your realm.”

  They turned their backs to her, and she sighed in reluctant anticipation, letting go of the spell and returning to the woods of Shimla.

  45

  Glashar

  “Why have you called us?” The Truth Tellers spoke in unison as they floated in front of Glashar. Their petite white bodies giving an eerie aura to the glade. Ellagine and Visra had left her alone for her private audience with the Truth Tellers. She was grateful they were gone. Their presence was a sharp reminder of what she’d lost. Visra silently gloated, each word from her mouth a jab. Glashar should have been grateful Visra reminded her of the Truth Tellers, but she hated the blood thirsty Jesnidrain. “Why have you pulled us from the in-between? Beware. Be warned. The price you pay is death.”

  Glashar snarled at them, baring her teeth, allowing her grief to surface. Her pointed chin jutted out as she clenched her fists and stepped forward. “I have called you because I demand to know where my lover’s soul is kept. He was slain in the battle at the Constel Heights, and I must find him and bring him back.”

  An audible force whispered through the air as the Truth Tellers alighted. Their feet, if they could be called feet, landed flat on the dark grass. “Give us his name.”

  “Dathiem the Tider.”

  “Dathiem the Tider,” they echoed. “Of the House of the Therian?”

  Her determination faded just a bit. “He came from the west near the mountains.”

  “There is only one we know by this name. He fell in Castle Range, and his soul was sent down the river.”

  “Yes. I must find him. I need you to tell me how.”

  “Why?”

  “I love him. He is the one my soul is meant to be with. Before he fell, he asked me to find him.”

  “What would you do to gain him back?”

  “Anything.”

  “Even defy death?”

  “Yes. Anything.”

  “If you do this, if you chase his soul, you can never return.”

  “Will I find him?”

  “What you find will be up to you. If you would seek his soul, you must travel to the underworld. To the in-between. To a place not of the Beyond and the Pillars of Creation. If you would seek his soul, you must be willing to transverse the map of the inner world and the dark sanctuaries where the living do not walk. Are you willing?”

  “I am.”

  “You will not return to walk in the light with your face to the crisp leaves of the wood. You will not return to dance with your brethren in the forests of Shimla. You will not return to the face of this world. If this is your request we will open the way before you; we will set you on the path to find what your heart desires. Neither death nor life will touch you. You will hang eternal in the balance until you find him.”

  “So it shall be.” Closing her eyes briefly she let the echo of their words thread through her mind, their full meaning sinking in. Banishment was the price she would pay. A sob caught in her throat but before she could question if it was worth it, a flashback entered her memory. His face rose before her as clear as if he stood in front of her, his hand coming up to caress her face while he kissed her neck, her shoulders, her belly, tracing the lines of her curves. His warm hand rested on her heart, yet when she reached up to cover his hand with hers, the memory faded. The air was full of his scent as she breathed in. It seemed as if he were there, touching her face, his fingers tracing the inside of her thigh as he listened to their conversation.

  When she opened her eyes, they were wet with unshed tears. “When may I begin my quest?”

  “You must set sail for Lily Pad Island. When your feet touch the shores of that mysterious land, your quest will begin.”

  They turned to leave, to disappear into the nothingness from whence they came. She raised a hand, pausing their movements. “How will I know I am on the right track? How will I find him?”

  “Souls are not physical or tethered to a form or location, you will know in your heart. You are stepping down a path none have dared to walk, aside from knowledge we can give you no further advice.”

  “I understand.” She bowed her head.

  “Take nothing from this world, the follies and fears of this life will become unknown to you.”

  They watched her, waiting for her to speak another word. She fell silent, watching their wavering forms disappear into the shadows.

 
“Dathiem,” she whispered his name once she was alone in the glade again. “Wait for me. I am coming.”

  For the first time since his death, her heart felt lighter.

  46

  Ellagine

  “You are determined to leave.”

  “Yes.”

  “You will not relent? The path you tread is dark if you go there is no return.”

  “I am aware of this knowledge. I am also aware the choice you have made. What you are about to do is wrong, but I do not have the heart to fight you.”

  “What are you talking about?” Ellagine stood tall, keeping her voice calm, hiding the shadows behind her eyes.

  “You know very well. Ever since the Green People came to the South World, they have been plotting and scheming. I know what you are going to do to this world.”

  “You know nothing. You are just angry.”

  “Nay,” Glashar voice rang with bitterness. “This is not my world anymore. I do not care what happens to it. If we still had the counsels of elder days, perhaps there would be enough power to stop you. After all, your people woke the Changers and allowed the corruption in the Western World without attempting to aid the mortals. It was your people who suggested the banishment of Magdela the Monrage instead of calling for her execution, as it should have been.” Glashar raised a hand to fend off Ellagine’s protests. “It was your people who first spoke the prophecy concerning the One, a prophecy which is no doubt laced with the power of mind control. It was your people, nay, even your own mother who found Eliesmore’s mother and raised her. The influence of your people on him is not lost on me; it’s intentional, isn’t it? He will do whatever you ask of him, and you know this.”

  A crackle of fury ripped through Ellagine at Glashar’s words. Raising her eyes to the delicate leaves of the forest she took a deep breath, determined to choose her words carefully. Glashar’s accusations were false, she was not involved in the deception of the mortals, yet even as her thoughts whirled, she heard a chant, whispered through the wind.

  Long may you live

  Long may you prosper

  Spread your seed far and wide

  May your bloodline

  The new breed

  Grow ever strong

  Glashar snapped her fingers, breaking Ellagine out of her trance. “The knowledge granted to me today was something I should have known all along. Alas, I was selfish and blinded by my own emotions. It is too late now. I am done. I am leaving. I hereby curse the Green People. I curse you, and I curse your plans for the South World…”

  “Your words have no power,” Ellagine interrupted, she felt an urge rise within her to reach out and snap Glashar’s neck in half. Attempting to calm her growing anger she balled her fists by her side, willing herself to do nothing.”

  Glashar lifted her head, her sharp chin jutting out as her golden hair fell in waves of fire down her back. “Yea, I curse you all the same.”

  “These are your final words? After all we have been through you would leave me with hate?”

  Glashar folded her arms, and her eyes fell to the forest floor. Displeasure hung in the air like tainted fruit. The words spoken could not be unsaid, their friendship would be marked by this moment.

  “No,” Glashar lifted her head, her deep eyes seeking Ellagine’s. Taking a step forward, she lifted her arms as if to embrace Ellagine. “Those would not be my last words to you. I understand the world belongs to the mortals, and our goal has always been to give our people, the immortals, a paradise of their own. It is unfair, some would say, for the morals to rule the land when we are a superior people in every way. I assumed you desired to help the mortals save this world from the hands of the Changers when in truth, you desire for the Iaen to rise stronger than ever before. It is a powerful action, yet the way you are going about this plan is wrong.”

  “Go,” Ellagine pointed east. “Find your beloved, leave matters of the world to me. Eliesmore will complete his quests; I have faith.”

  Glashar studied her, anger fading from her face as another impartation dawned on her. “Of course you have faith. You know not where your steps will lead you. When you understand the true meaning of what has been done, I wonder, will you relent?”

  “I don’t understand. What you are saying?” Ellagine tilted her head, raising an eyebrow.

  Glashar took a step back. “I see,” she whispered. “Farewell, my friend,” she raised a hand. “Let no animosity dwell between us because of what was said here. I see now this plan was not your own. You are only part of it, and in that, you have no choice. When the revelation is clear, you must choose your next action. Will you follow the path laid before you or will you break with tradition? The time of the immortals is over; we must leave the world to the mortals.”

  “Farewell,” Ellagine lifted a hand, letting the words fade to dust. “May you find the treasure you seek.”

  Glashar turned and strode through the woods, her pace even and sure. Before she disappeared into the boughs of the silvery trees she turned, her eyes seeking Ellagine’s. “Come with me?” she called.

  Ellagine shook her head, turning her back on Glashar. The last of the Wise Ones of the Iaen were gone. It was time to go to the birthing grounds and wake the new Iaen. They would be young and foolish. They needed her guidance and what wisdom she choose to impart to them. A new cycle of Iaens had arrived, it was time for them to wake up.

  47

  Visra

  “Glashar,” Visra hissed, dropping out of the wood into Glashar’s path. The Falidrain was dressed in a white cloak, it covered her fair head and almost fell over her large eyes. Glashar’s movements were slow as if she anticipated Visra’s interruption. Visra crossed her arms, glowering. “Where are you going?”

  “You know where.” Glashar’s voice was cold. “It is as you desire. I will leave this wood, and leave this world. You will find me no more.”

  Visra narrowed her eyes. “I saw him die,” she reached for her sword, drawing it and holding the blade up to the dim light of the forest. “I saw the arrows, I saw the sword, and I did nothing. If I had moved, perhaps I could have saved him.”

  “Perhaps,” Glashar repeated, growing quite still as if her body were turning to stone. “Perhaps you could have saved him, but we both know what your true intentions are. You come here, as I leave, to goad me once more. You are too insecure to understand that it is over, you won. The world is yours; I am your enemy no longer. Once I leave, you will never see my face again, isn’t that what you have desired? If so, why come here to taunt me in my sorrow?”

  Visra grinned, sticking out her tongue to lick the end of her blade. She spit. A combination of salvia and blood dropped to the leaves.

  Glashar glanced from Visra’s mouth to the wad of spit on the ground. “You desecrate our hollow grove. You are not worthy to walk in the footsteps of the elder Iaen. But you are a fighter. Perhaps, next time you seek death, you will bring life instead of your vicious rebuttal.”

  “I could kill you now and send your soul to be with your beloved.” Visra studied her reflection in her blade as she spoke. “It would be faster than whatever the Truth Tellers told you.”

  “Perhaps.” Glashar sniffed and began to walk forward. “You could have killed me long ago. You could have saved my beloved. Instead, you stand here, attempting to be vindictive, when all the bickering between you and I has ended. Don’t you understand? You are petty and foolish, you have lost your confidence in who you are because you are focused on fighting me. You are a warrior, and I am not your enemy. Your heart is full of hate and revenge and if you must take it out, if you want to fight, if you want to kill, go find the Black Steeds and destroy them. There is a reason you told me about the Truth Tellers, and whatever inkling you had at that time, act on it now.”

  “If you go,” Visra lifted her chin, her jeweled eyes glazing over. “If you find him now, you could be happy.”

  “You would never know. Besides, you don’t care what happens to me. You hold this gr
udge, and you can hold it no longer. Let go. Stop living in the past, look forward to your own future, as I do.”

  Visra spread her wings, slipping her sword back into her sheath. She lifted a hand, her eyes still distant. “Farewell my old enemy, I will keep up the fight for our people.”

  Ignoring her, Glashar continued to walk forward, weaving between the slender leaves of the forest. Visra flew up to a tree branch and stood on it, watching the last reminders of her past fade away.

  Glashar turned just before she disappeared, lifting one pale hand. “If you follow Ellagine, the Iaen shall rise again.”

  Visra pressed her hands together like a prayer. As Glashar disappeared through the wood, Visra heard a voice begin to sing a high wild song. A chant undulated through the trees. The wind began to blow, a slight shudder as eternal voices began to chime in. Visra’s wings fluttered as she listened to the call. The cycle of life was returning after the death the Rakhai brought. The Iaen would be born anew. Their numbers would inhabit the woods as they once did. Yet, there was a new feeling in the wind, the promise of the past faded and only the blessing of the future remained. The Iaen would return, not as they once were, but as a new kind of immortal, with a new history. The hereditary knowledge had changed, the taint of a curse, of evil, had vanished, all that remained was purity.

  Standing, Visra lifted her wings and flew upward. It was time to go west, to the thick of the battle, and fight the Black Steeds wherever she found them. No longer was she a member of the Green Company. No longer did she belong in the forest of the Iaen. No longer would she sing songs, longing for days of old. It was time to go to war, to cut the ties between herself and the forest. Her people were gone. Her time was over. There was nothing left for her but bloodshed. Even as she flew upward a throng of glee flowed through her. She balled her hands into fists. It was time to kill.