by D A Godwin
“There is no way you could you have foreseen this,” Enna said. “If he has become isolated, then all of us must share some part of the blame. No one has been willing to press him for explanations.”
“Myself least of all. Having him back is like having the use of both arms again. No one knows me so completely. It was almost as it was when we travelled together, before meeting you or the demons. Everything was simple then, no matter how unpleasant. We had only to survive, and I knew that so long as we were together, we would.”
“And now?”
Shalindra hung her head. “Neither of us needs the other in the ways we once did. There is nothing for him to protect me from on this island, and I cannot heal wounds he does not receive.”
Enna seemed equally helpless. “It could be that the scars he bears are much deeper than we can see, and require an even greater level of care in their restoration.”
She was almost certainly correct, but Shalindra remained at a loss for how to resolve it. “Could you ask Argus to help counter the rumors he hears? It is an injustice that they have driven Honarch away to his tower with their mistrust, and I will not allow that to happen again. Not to him. Not after what he sacrificed to keep us alive.”
“Of course.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I will be along shortly, I just… need a moment.”
Enna looked like she might say something more, but did not. “Yes, Sister.”
When Enna was gone, Shalindra rose and walked in aimless circles about the room. The castle was beginning to feel more like a prison than a palace, and the ridges of the valley a fence denying her freedom. She had not been outside that boundary since… since she had arrived here. What had she been thinking all that time? Had she made the correct decisions? Certainly, no one thought she was doing the right thing now. It should not bother her so much, but it did.
It’s because they’re right.
Why is it that you can block your thoughts from mine, but I cannot?
You don’t try very hard.
It is not you they fear, it is the unknown. If you would tell me what happened to you there, I could alleviate their concerns.
It won’t change anything, and might only make it worse.
What could you have possibly done that would make us think less of you?
His silence was her only answer.
* * *
Enna collapsed to the ground. The sand was sharp against her skin, more like shards of rock than dry silt. Her eyes burned from the acrid air and dust driven against her by unending gusts of wind. Forcing herself to her knees, her shaking hands brought a blackened, gooey mass to her lips. She took a second bite and then a third, each one squirming in her stomach as if it were still alive.
Eventually, her body rebelled, sending most of what she had swallowed back out onto the sand.
“Do you find such delicacies unacceptable?”
She recognized the deep voice that came from behind her but could see nothing but the sand between her fingers. Something lashed across her back, and she jerked in pain but refused to cry out. Everything blurred, and she fought to bring it back in focus.
“Get up,” the voice commanded. “Get up and eat or I will leave you to be eaten.”
She rose once more, though every fiber in her being protested the action. The corpse lay open at her feet, though she struggled to remember how it had died or even what it had been. She gripped a piece of the still-warm flesh and tore it free. Raising it defiantly to her lips she…
…bolted awake, gasping for air. Her room was dark and quiet, save for her panting breaths. Though by herself, she was certain she was not alone. On her chest, Elurithlia’s symbol radiated an insistent warmth. She wiped the damp hair from her face with a trembling hand. That one had been so real.
She had experienced such nightmares before. The first had come while they were outside Evermen’s Forge, the second not long after arriving in the valley. Then nothing for over a year. There was no pattern to them, and she could never remember enough of what she had dreamed to consider it worth mentioning. But this one…
She whispered a prayer to Elurithlia and lay back on the pillow, searching for happier thoughts to counter the nightmare. It was only a dream, she told herself, but no matter how tightly she closed her eyes, sleep continued to elude her, and her mind returned to the same frightening images again and again. She had to know where they came from, and there was only one person she could ask.
She bit her lip indecisively, then threw on her clothes and tiptoed from her room.
Shalindra’s door was closed, as was Marie’s. Enna padded silently down the hall and out of the temple. As she hurried through the gardens, it occurred to her that she had chastised Shalindra for doing this exact sort of thing not long ago, but the irony was not enough to change her mind.
The night was dark and the stars lost behind the clouds that seemed to have established a permanent home above their heads. Little stirred other than the occasional night creature and the soothing roar of water pouring over the falls. With haste she made her way to Tormjere’s cottage, praying that he was there and not at Honarch’s tower. She paused at the doorway, but the door swung open before she could knock. Again.
“A little late for a visit, isn’t it?” Tormjere asked.
“I… Yes, it is,” she said, suddenly feeling foolish. “I apologize for waking you.”
“I wasn’t asleep,” he said, stepping back to allow her in.
He turned and lit a candle, though she noticed in a distracted sort of way that the flame sprang to life without a spark. It could have been a trick of the light, but his face seemed pale.
“I… had a nightmare,” Enna said. “One that I hoped you might… I was somewhere hot… a desert, maybe, and there was someone forcing me to… eat something. It was dark and foul, and… I don’t know if it was dead or not, but I put it in my mouth and …” She trailed off. He seemed almost not to be listening, like he was somewhere else.
“Tormjere?”
He stared through her like she did not exist. His hands shook, and he clenched them at his side. Though no fire was lit and the room was cool, he was sweating.
She reached for him, but he jerked away.
“Don’t.”
He doubled over with his hands clutching his stomach, his face contorted in pain.
Driven by the fear twisting its way up her spine, her words came out as more of a demand than she would have wished. “Tell me what is happening to you.”
“You should leave.”
“Just breathe,” Enna implored, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It was your dream I saw, wasn’t it? I don’t care how it happened. Wherever you were, you’re no longer there. You’re here, with me in the valley. Tormjere, focus on me. I want to understand.”
“Do you?” he snapped, uncoiling like a striking snake. He seized her by the arms, pinning them against her sides as he lifted her from the ground. “You have a dream and suddenly you want to understand everything I went through? You think you can comprehend what it’s like, or what I could do?”
“Let go,” she pleaded.
“I know what you taste like. I know why demons who haven’t set foot on this world in eons still speak of your kind. If I wanted it, no one here could stop me.”
“What are you talking about?” Enna gasped, struggling impotently in his vise-like grip. His normally calm eyes were a terrifying maelstrom that reflected the red of the flickering candlelight. Darkness seemed to gather around them, swirling ever more tightly as the room faded from view. “Mistress, help me,” she whimpered.
Blue light flashed across his eyes, pure and cold, quenching the fires that burned in them. He seemed to teeter, then took a ragged breath, as if collecting himself. The wild look did not leave him, but he jerked away and she tumbled to the floor.
His arms trembled as he wrapped them about his stomach once more.
She took a step away from him in shock, rubbing her
arms where his hands had been.
“Enna…”
She spun and fled into the night.
Approaching Dawn
Enna made her way up the darkened trail, her small feet leaving no trace of her passage on the damp ground. The trees around her stood like silent sentinels silhouetted by the pre-dawn light that sprinkled through the sparse clouds above. Her path was steep, but she had walked it so many times that her legs covered the distance easily. She needed peace. Needed somewhere to think. Everything was wrong—Tormjere, the settlement they were building, the missing pilgrims from Ildalarial, the lack of any message from her mother. It felt as if the world were teetering on its edge, uncertain if it would right itself or tumble into chaos.
Her destination was a rocky bluff that capped a sheer cliff on the eastern edge of the valley. She had discovered it not long after they had arrived but told no one of its location. Shalindra undoubtedly knew of it but had never inquired or followed her here. She respected Enna’s need for solitude, understanding so much that never needed to be said. Everyone else just assumed she needed to wander in the woods. Her private refuge was a beautiful, solitary place where she could pray in the way of her people, rejoicing in the sun’s return and thanking Elurithlia for Her protection through the night.
Except that this morning it was occupied.
Tormjere stood on the edge of the bluff, facing the pending dawn. For a moment, she thought him unaware of her presence.
“It’s a beautiful view,” he said without turning.
She hesitated, then continued forward to stand beside him. She had seen that look before, and it reminded her that he was at least in some ways the same person he had been: always more critical of his own flaws than his most vehement detractor.
“Enna…”
“Don’t. I know who you are, even if you sometimes forget.”
His jaw tightened as he continued wrestling with his thoughts, staring into the distance as if he could pierce the mists shrouding the mountains and reveal what lay in the darkness cast by their shadows. There was a hint of resignation in his voice when he at last spoke. “You’re here to pray, and I’m interrupting.”
He was, and she did not want him here despite her charitable statement. Her arms still ached from where his hands had painfully gripped them just hours ago, but she recognized that it was a different desire that had led him here this morning. “I hold no claim over these woods. You are welcome to stay, if it pleases you.”
She pushed further thoughts of conversation from her mind. The dawn would not wait, and Elurithlia deserved the honors She was due. Enna knelt in the place she always did.
She began facing west, away from the dawn. The barest sliver of the moon was low on the horizon, having almost completed Her watch over the night. Enna cleared her mind. She rarely spoke the words aloud, but today she felt it appropriate. They escaped her lips without conscious effort as her mind drifted somewhere else, seeking the calming strength of her goddess.
Behind her, the sun broke the crest of the mountains, turning the mists to fire and throwing brilliant oranges and reds across the clouds.
Completing the verse, she turned to face east without opening her eyes. The sun’s first rays bathed her face in warmth. The world slipped away as she began to sing softly. The heat of her devotion mixed with that of the sun, penetrating deep into her soul and easing the burdens she carried. It was in this moment of quiet reflection that so many things could become clear, and Her true desires could be determined.
Today, her thoughts turned to the man who stood beside her. It was what she needed to confront, no matter how much she sought to deny it. It was with no small amount of guilt that she realized her initial anger towards him could have pushed him further away. What she had seen last night was not who he was.
Guide me, Elurithlia. Show me the way in your glory that I may return him to the man he should be.
Her direction now confirmed, she opened her eyes with a touch of regret. It was only then that she noticed the looped end of a golden chain dangling from Tormjere’s clenched fist. It was odd, as she had never known him to possess any form of jewelry.
“That was much nicer in your language,” he said.
“I suppose you’ve learned to speak elvish now, as well?”
This time, the smile almost made it to his eyes. “Just bits and pieces.”
“It was the first prayer I ever learned, and one that never fails to bring me comfort.”
She rose half in front of him, perilously close to the cliff.
“Mind the edge,” he cautioned.
Her eyes searched his for the chaos she had witnessed, but today they held only the dark calmness that she had always been able to rely upon. “I do not believe that you would let me fall.”
“You trust me more than you should.”
“Perhaps my fault was in not trusting you enough. Why did you come here today?”
In answer, he took her gently by the shoulders and turned her—not east towards the sun as she had expected but angled to the south. There was nothing different about the mountains in that direction, but he gave every indication that he was looking at something.
A stiff breeze could have sent her plummeting to her death, but his hands remained protectively on her arms. The chain he held was surprisingly warm as it brushed against her skin, but it struck her as a private thing and she dared not look at it. The sunrise before her was beautiful, casting warm light across the mountains and causing the mists that shrouded the valleys to practically glow. A pair of wyverns took flight in the distance, their silhouettes soaring ever higher in the slowly warming air. No matter how long she lived, she would never tire of such sights.
“Close your eyes and tell me what you feel.”
That was an odd thing to ask and tested the trust she had just spoken of, but she did as he requested. “The warmth of the sun lopsided on my cheeks. The coolness of the air. A hint of a breeze.” The touch of your fingers on my skin. “There is nothing else.”
She opened her eyes and turned within his arms to face him. “The gift of divination faded from our race ages ago, if that was what you hoped for.”
He stepped back, guiding her away from the precipice. “There are some who still can.”
“True, but it is an isolated talent, rarely found outside our wilder kin.”
“Who follow Lithandris.”
Why did it sound like it pained him to say it? “Did you study the history of elves in those books you read? Or perhaps theology?”
When he did not respond, she continued. “The god of the forest is known for his keen senses, and in rare cases his followers inherit that gift. But you already knew that, didn’t you? What did you want me to feel?”
He did not answer immediately, but his hand tightened around whatever was at the end of the golden chain.
“They’re bringing it back.”
His tone implied a poor decision on someone’s part, but she was at a loss for what it might mean. Whatever realization he had come to seemed to spur him to action, however, and he turned towards the trail that had brought her here.
“Tormjere?”
He paused and glanced back at her over his shoulder.
“You are welcome to join me here whenever you wish. You may find it as ideal a place to seek answers from the gods as I do.”
“And when the gods don’t listen?”
It hurt her heart to hear the bitterness in those words, but her answer was as absolute a promise as she had ever made. “I will.”
Returning Purpose
Tormjere watched the column of men and mules wind its way into Newlmir two days later. The procession carried no banners, but the dozen or so priests in the habit of Amalthee left little doubt as to their affiliation. Edward rode at the van with two squads of his best men, though judging from the size of those behind him the escort was more ceremonial than determent. He counted at least fifty armed guards, plus an equal number of teamsters and retain
ers. Most of the guards were common men-at-arms, but those who walked closest to the priests were handsomely accoutered in mail coats with polished helms, and carried both halberd and sword. Their tabards were blue trimmed in brown and gold, and were topped with a sash of blue.
The entire complement was such that they should have remained undisturbed, but judging from the relief on many of the faces Tormjere doubted that it had been an entirely peaceful journey. The visitors were enough to swell the population of the village, which had spent the past two days scrambling to prepare for the unexpected visit. Most everyone in the valley had turned out to watch their arrival, regardless of whether they gave their devotions to the goddess of wisdom and gold.
Shalindra and Enna stood awaiting them alongside the entire council in what passed for the town common area: a clear field located at the shoreward foot of the causeway. The two-story inn Argus had established was off to one side, squeezed between several other buildings which formed a semi-circular perimeter.
Tormjere observed the proceedings with Honarch from a short distance away, thankful that he held no formal rank and was under no obligation to participate. Honarch should have been with the council, but no one objected to his absence. The villagers gave them both plenty of space, which was irksome but hardly unexpected. His stomach moved suddenly of its own accord, and he shifted his feet in an attempt to settle it.
What is wrong? You are so anxious that you are beginning to make me nervous.
I should’ve just gone with Edward to meet him, and done without the ceremony.
But you did not, and now we must respect the formalities.
Edward rendered a proper salute as he reached the field. Half the formation of horsemen behind him continued across the bridge towards the stables while the rest peeled off and came to attention behind the waiting dignitaries.