by Liara Woo
"What would happen if these elves worked for Santa?" Hailey wondered. "Everyone would get the best gifts ever!"
"They don't measure things in items," Katie sighed dreamily. "They value love, and friendship, and courage. Stuff like that. It's true that they love making people happy, but they don't do it by giving gifts. Just being around them makes you happy."
"You sound as if you've met one," Emma commented curiously. "Or… perhaps you've met someone like an elf." She giggled mischievously.
Katie didn't reply. She was thinking of Halthren, trying to memorize every detail of his face. Trying to recall the sound of his voice as he murmured, "I love you." His voice had sounded so sincere, so heartfelt, even though he lay in a dungeon cell with a terrible wound in his side. Suddenly a terrible thought occurred to her. I didn't stay to find out—what if he's dead?!
"Katie? Are you alright?" Emma asked.
Katie sat up straight. "I'm fine," she said quickly.
Hailey grinned. "You have a crush on someone, don't you? You're blushing."
Katie cheeks grew warm. It's a bit more than a silly crush, though, she thought. "Well…umm…yes, I know someone who's really nice and brave and perfect," she blurted.
"Who? Can I meet him?" Emma asked eagerly.
"Uh… no. I should probably forget about him, because I don't think I'll ever see him again." Sadness pricked at her heart like a sewing needle stabbing her finger. And even if I could see him again, would he want to see me? After I left him without so much as a second glance?
Winter arrived, blowing in with a wild storm that dropped three feet of snow on the city of Flagstaff. School was cancelled for a day; Katie stayed in her room, sketching the magical creatures of Allagandria. She held the silver elf pendant tightly in her hands until it was warm and she could imagine it was alive. Then she gazed down at it with an aching, lonely heart. Emma and Hailey were nice, but no one understood her the way the elves did…the way Halthren did.
She lay on her bed, watching snowflakes fall on the pine trees outside. It was so magical; the world was white and frosted, with delicate frost clinging to the pine needles and the bushes, transforming them into silvery statues. Katie wondered what winter would look like in Kylaras. Halthren had said it was very cold, so cold that they had to wear wolf hide. Katie's mind began to wander… if the elves got enough snow, they could jump off of the roof of Bloodthorne's mansion and into a soft pillow of snow below… It would be cold, but it would be so much fun.
So she took out a fresh piece of paper and began sketching the mansion, adding snow on the roof and on the ground. Then she drew an elf leaping from the turrets and into the snow, grinning brightly. The drawing made her smile.
Recovery
Recovery
"You asked to see me?"
Startled, Halthren jumped up from the desk he'd been sitting at, closing the heavy book open before him with a snap and hiding the scraps of paper he'd been writing on. His startled heart was pounding furiously, and his cheeks burned self consciously. "I…uh…Joran…Yes. I…I wish to learn how to become a healer."
Joran gasped. "But, Halthren, it's dangerous! And there hasn't been a healer in Kylaras for a thousand years!"
"My father knew a healer, if only for a brief time. Sorien daile was his name. It meant 'winter child' in the secret tongue of white wolves. Sorien daile's name was changed by the elves he travelled with—your own father included—into Sorendel. He was instrumental during the War of Fire a thousand years ago, when a dragon by the name of Vechthain tried to take over the world and enslaved the elves for a time."
"You know a lot," Joran admired.
Halthren laid a hand on the thick book on the desk. "Actually, I read it all in the introduction to this book, which was written by Sorendel about the arts of healing. He was only able to write about half of it before he was slain by Vechthain, and…my father wrote the rest of it."
"Then it means a lot more to you that it would to anyone else," Joran murmured, studying the ancient weathered tome with new interest. "Where did you find it?"
Halthren's face hardened into an expression of misery as a fresh wave of sadness and mourning engulfed his soul. "In my old home."
Joran grimaced apologetically. "So what does the book tell?" he asked, abruptly changing the topic.
"It describes anything anyone could need to know about using Light and the ancient tongue of enchantment to heal others… I think I should become a healer."
"Halthren, I've heard stories. The healers themselves have to be able to endure a lot of pain."
Halthren nodded once. "Part of it includes removing the pain from injuries and illnesses and transferring it to the healers. Sorendel recorded several instances in which it nearly cost him his life."
Joran shook his head. "I don't want you to have to endure any more pain."
Halthren turned away from him, looking directly at the book and trying valiantly not to show the twisting despair eating him from the inside. "I've already suffered the most painful thing in all the world. No wound or sickness could ever hurt me that much; I'll be alright. Besides, if I become a healer, no one else will be forced to endure what I have." He raised one hand to his side, grimacing slightly as he touched the place where Nashgor had stabbed him as Katie had watched in Vernisgard. It throbbed constantly with pain; the sealed wound showed as a dark red, ragged streak beneath his ribs, going almost all the way to his navel. Both wounds inflicted by Dark knives—the one in his abdomen and the one over his heart—had never truly healed; they remained an angry scarlet color and burned furiously if he moved too suddenly in one direction.
Joran sighed. "How long will it take you to learn?"
Halthren shrugged. "After two or three years I will be able to heal bruises and minor broken bones and some lacerations, but it will take ten years to develop enough skill to heal everything."
Joran smiled at him encouragingly. "It'll be amazing to have a fully-fledged healer in Kylaras once again."
Halthren bowed his head. "I'll do what I can," he vowed.
* * *
Winter melted away, and new green life sprouted from the muddy soil. Pale pink flowers blossomed on the cherry trees near Katie's house, the petals gently fluttering down and kissing her hair as she walked beneath them. All too soon all of them had fallen and the dark green leaves of summer replaced them. On the last week of school, Katie enjoyed the warm summer zephyrs passing through the trees and the scent of life and vivacity it carried. She lay in the soft grass of her front yard as a wave of memories gently washed over her. She'd turned fifteen almost a year ago, on the thirty first of May. Now her sixteenth birthday was in two days. I wonder when Halthren's birthday is? Or Joran's? Or do elves even celebrate birthdays? If they stop counting after…what was it…a hundred and fifty, then they probably don't celebrate them after that.
As she walked inside, her thoughts remained on Halthren. The details of his face were beginning to slip away from her, much to her dismay. But the sound of his gentle voice remained with her, and she heard him whisper in her mind countless times: "I love you." Her heart ached for him. Could he ever forgive her for leaving him? With every passing day, her love for him grew, but she tried to hold it down, knowing that it was useless, that she could never see him again. Longing for a face that was forever lost to her would only make her sad.
So I might as well try to forget, so that I can still live a happy life here.
But as time passed, this became more difficult for her than she'd anticipated. Her skills as an artist grew, and as soon as she thought she was good enough she began spending hours on portraits of her friends… especially Halthren. In her mind she tried to recall everything she'd seen him do. She remembered rescuing him from Vernisgard with Loriina. She remembered speaking to him as he lay in the healing room in Bloodthorne's mansion. She remembered him fighting a giant green dog creature to save her in the battle for Velana, and she remembered flying with him all across Allagandria. She recalled
the voices of her elven friends as they told her about Halthren's endless good deeds, and she wished he were here now.
I can only dream that someday, I'll be able to see him again, she thought sadly.
Her parents noticed her behavior, drawing elves and dragons and unicorns and sketching maps of Allagandria. They credited it to a powerful imagination, and they enjoyed listening to her as she described the world of the elves. They loved how it made her eyes light up with joy when she spoke of them, but they didn't believe it was real. How could they? Elves… unicorns… dragons… they were stuff of legends, not the real world.
And yet…when she told them about Halthren…they knew deep down that he was somehow real. The love she had for him was nothing an imagination could conjure. It was far too powerful.
The years continued to pass.
* * *
Halthren was dreaming. He stood on a dark blue plane that stretched on and on forever, and in front of him stood Kylaras. She was looking away from him, gazing into the distance.
"The prophecy was wrong," he told her. "I didn't die."
Slowly she turned towards him. Her silvery eyes locked onto him; he was surprised to see that they were so full of sadness. "No," she murmured. "And by living you have prolonged your curse."
"I know," Halthren murmured, remembering the months he'd been flat in bed after the final battle, recovering from the cruel wounds that had been inflicted upon him. The agony in his heart at Katie's departure was still fresh in his heart, making it a struggle to go on living, knowing that he couldn't ask her to choose between him and her parents, knowing that she was with her family and he was with his, and all was as it was meant to be. The pain that came with becoming a healer was nowhere near as bad, but it sapped his strength and sometimes ripped a scream from his throat. A burning agony accompanied his every move, emanating from the Dark wounds in his side and over his heart. "But to die would mean to forsake those whom I could help. As a star I would be able to do nothing more than visit people in their dreams."
"You were meant to die," Kylaras admitted. "I crafted the Sword of Light to kill both Nashgor… and you. We foresaw that you would be cursed with terrible agony, and so the Sword of Light was created to end that curse and free you by taking your life. At the same time we needed you to remain alive long enough to defeat Nashgor… so we prophesied the arrival of an Earth Child. Someone who would need your knowledge of the legends for an attempt to destroy Nashgor. And they would keep the Sword of Light safely in their hands until it was your time. It was never Katie who was meant to defeat Nashgor. It was you, from the beginning. And once you killed Nashgor you would die and live in the paradise of the skies. It was meant to be a happy ending and a new beginning for you…but it wasn't."
"It wouldn't have been a paradise for me," Halthren murmured, lowering his eyes. "You didn't foresee that I would fall in love…did you?"
Kylaras smiled regretfully. "We never can foresee matters of the heart."
"And yet I did hold the Sword of Light," he murmured. "Why didn't it kill me?"
"Luck," Kylaras sighed. "Mere luck. Or it was He who created us, preventing your death because it was not meant to be."
Halthren closed his eyes for a long moment before opening them again, searching his heart for the spark of fury at his betrayal, by the very elves he had served with his every breath. But he couldn't find it; his heart was full of longing, pain, and emptiness. "I'm not angry with you, although I feel like I should be. You wanted me dead just as much as Nashgor did, although for different reasons. But I'm not angry. I'm… actually grateful, because if you hadn't needed an Earth Child to hold on to the Sword of Light for me, I'd never have gotten to meet Katie. And… even knowing her for a little while… was…"
Kylaras smiled gently. "Yes, Legendheart."
Halthren swallowed painfully. "Is… is there any hope for me? For… for my curse to be lifted, and maybe… maybe for me to be with Katie?"
Her elegant smile faded, replaced by sorrow. "There is always hope. But with every year that passes, hope for you will fade."
Halthren awakened with tears in his eyes.
* * *
Katie inhaled deeply. The sharp, malodorous scent of gasoline filled her nose and she bit back a scowl. Walking along the side of the road definitely had its disadvantages; she preferred the woods and the clean, fresh smells of the forest. Instead of the raging roar of automobile engines and the ear-numbing squeal of slamming brakes, she longed for the sweet chirps of birds and the playful chattering of squirrels to fill her mind with peace. But unfortunately for her, the only way to get from her home to Northern Arizona University was through the city.
A brief thought flitted through her mind-Kylaras hadn't been like this. She dismissed the notion instantly, squashing it flat. I need to forget that, she urged herself, closing her eyes in irritation.
Suddenly her foot caught an uneven slab of concrete and she tripped, screaming, falling face-first to the ground. But firm arms snatched her from her fall, pulling her upright.
"Careful," a smiling voice urged.
Her heart in her throat, she looked up, into the face of a young man with wavy brown hair and a gentle smile. "Oh-yes-right," she stuttered, breathing quickly.
"Are you okay?" he asked, releasing her and bending down to pick up her textbooks, which had flown from her arms in the fall.
"I'm… fine," she managed, a hand over her racing heart. Her fingers brushed against the silver chain hanging from her neck-Loriina's gift.
"You should pay more attention," he grinned, handing her books to her. "I'm Marcus, by the way, but most people just call me Mark, 'cuz I think Marcus sounds like 'carcass.'"
Katie laughed. "I guess it does. Good call. I'm Katie."
They shook hands, and she didn't fail to notice how he gently grasped her hand longer than was customary. She looked questioning into his gray eyes and he quickly blushed, dropping her hand and half-turning from her. "Well, ah, do you live here?" he asked. His blush deepened. "I-I mean, not in a creepy way or anything, I just meant-in Flagstaff?"
Katie suppressed a giggle. "Yes; what about you?"
He shook his head. "Nah. I'm from Utah. I'm just coming here to go to school."
Her curiosity, which had lain dormant for years, finally rose back up again. "Which one?" she asked.
"NAU," he responded with a casual shrug. "I'm studying to be a wildlife biologist. It's always been a dream of mine to work in the woods."
Katie smiled. "I-I'm going to NAU, too," she told him. "I want to be a landscape artist, actually."
"You'll have to show me some of your work," Mark grinned. "I mean, if you want to. If-if we're friends."
"I think we're friends," Katie smiled. Without warning, the image of Halthren's face came to the forefront of her mind, along with a wave of longing. Her happiness faded.
"Are you alright?" Mark asked, genuinely concerned. Katie looked at him, searching his face.
"I was just… missing a friend of mine," she told him. Although… it's been four years. How could we still be friends?
A new thought occurred to her. I'll never see Halthren again. I need to let him go, and try to find happiness without him.
Hope Is Lost
Hope is Lost
As the months passed, she spent more and more time with Mark, waiting to feel the fluttering in her heart that had accompanied almost every glance at Halthren. But it never came, despite the nights spent at nice restaurants, despite the picnics on warm Saturday afternoons, despite the long, peaceful hikes in the woods. She liked him, but never in the way she'd liked Halthren.
Then, as they hiked to the top of the San Francisco Peaks and saw the world spread out before them, stretching on and on in every direction, Mark bent down on one knee before her, his stormy gray eyes soft with love. "You are my everything," he told her, smiling gently. "Katie Smalls, would… would you marry me?"
Katie's heart leapt into her throat. She looked at him, terrified
. She knew she didn't love him. Her fingers found the chain around her neck. Or… maybe what I felt with Halthren never was love, and this is.
Let him go.
She pulled the chain from her neck, staring at the elf pendant while Mark waited patiently. This is my chance for happiness in this world. Turning away from him, towards the vast expanse of forest beneath her, she raised the pendant in her fist and hurled it with all her might into the trees, letting go.
Taking a deep breath, she faced Mark again, forcing herself to smile despite the sudden emptiness in the pit of her stomach. "Yes."
* * *
Halthren screamed in agony, his hands flying to his heart as he collapsed, writhing in pain. Fire burned through his limbs, stemming from both of the Dark wounds in his chest. His vision blurred; he tasted blood in his mouth and coughed violently, trying to clear it from his throat. His face felt too warm; his hands and feet were cold and numb; all the while the flames burned through his blood, forcing choked screams from his lips.