by C S Marks
Her eyes went cold and hard, and she stopped trembling, backing away from them. Sweat-soaked, she took in great gasps of air, and the color returned to her face. She was gathering and collecting herself for some course of action, and they stopped their approach, hardly daring to breathe lest they drive her to something reckless. Nelwyn called out, trying to calm her.
"Gaelen…don’t be afraid. It will be all right. You couldn’t help this fate, and it wasn’t your fault. Please come to your friends, so that we may aid you. We all love you. Please come to us."
Gaelen looked at Nelwyn then, silent tears flowing from her eyes. "How long have you known of this? Was this whole errand a test? Did you risk being captured by Gorgon so that you could be sure? Is that right?"
Nelwyn nodded. Gaelen moaned again and closed her eyes, her hands clutching at the pouch that hung around her neck. "I have brought death to so many, and if your vision is true, the Greatwood will fall because of me." She drew her long knives from their sheaths. "Stay away from me," she cried in a soft, menacing voice, brandishing the blades. "To be seen or heard by me is to walk into a nest of vipers. You dare not risk it! Do not hinder me now, for I know what I must do." Though her voice was resolute, her eyes were terrified.
Rogond and Nelwyn both knew that she planned to do harm to herself, and they tried to take her from both sides, but she lashed out at them with the daggers, crying in a terrible voice, "Do not hinder me!" Her skill with those razor-sharp blades forced them back, for she might have slashed them both rather than let them take her. They stood for a moment, frozen at the sight of Gaelen, the Warrior-elf, knowing that her sanity hung by the barest of threads. Her eyes softened as she looked upon Rogond, and her face twisted into a grimace of pain.
"How can you love me?" she asked him in a small, pitiful voice. "How could you ever have loved me?" To his horror, she drew her blades along both forearms, bringing blood onto the grass at her feet. She did not appear to feel the pain. With a last look at Nelwyn, she moaned once more, then turned from them and ran through the dappled forest light. Nelwyn and Rogond both called after her, to no avail.
"We must go after her, Rogond! She means to harm herself. She may put out her own eyes, or…or even kill herself. She is not rational! We must pursue her, for she is swift and knows the forest." Nelwyn turned to Galador. "Can you take the horses and Fima back to the Elven-hold?"
"Nelwyn…please don’t go into the deep wood without me. I fear you will not return! Please don’t go without me."
Nelwyn shook her head. "Fima cannot manage the horses. You must do this--for me. I will be all right."
"Leave the horses! I would see to your safety," said Galador, panic in his face. "And I would aid you in your pursuit of Gaelen, for I love her even as you do."
"If you love her, then do as I ask, and do not delay us further. Fima cannot strive with us, and we cannot leave him here alone.
Please, my love, do as I bid! We will return as soon as we may."
She embraced him then, and turned to Rogond. "Follow me, Aridan. She is swift, but I am taller and swifter. Let us be away!"
They sprang forward through the trees, following Gaelen’s trail. At first it was easy to follow, for though she ran lightly, the blood from her slashed forearms was clearly visible. Nelwyn cursed as she made her way amid the thick, tangled undergrowth that Gaelen had intentionally run through to block their way. Here, size was a disadvantage, and Gaelen drew farther and farther ahead of them, to their dismay. "She knows what she is doing," said Nelwyn ruefully. "We must be swift, for she is gaining ground."
The signs grew fainter as they went northward, but eventually they led back to the river. As they looked up and down for signs of Gaelen, a sudden insight, followed by a look of horror, came upon Nelwyn. "She is headed for the Narrows, I just know it! Oh, Rogond… if she reaches them we won’t be able to save her. She means to cast herself in. We must fly!"
She turned north and sped along the river’s edge, as the land rose into two great bluffs on either side. They could hear the rushing waters of the Narrows, a deep, swift section of the river quite unlike the gentle, serene waters that flowed past the Elven-hold. As Nelwyn had feared, they spotted a lone figure standing erect on top of the bluff overlooking the water. Gaelen looked small and forlorn, but her shoulders were thrown back, her hair was lifted in the wind, and her head was not bowed.
They raced toward her, calling and begging her to turn about. She looked over her shoulder and beheld them, then raised her hand in farewell. Her friends had come too late. She bent over, picked up a large stone and clutched it to her chest with both arms. Rogond called frantically to try to stop her, but she seemed not to hear. She was afraid, that was plain in the way she shrank back just a little from the edge. Rogond saw her take several deep breaths, as though gathering herself. Then, to his horror, she simply stepped off the edge, plummeting toward the churning water, as Nelwyn screamed her name.
Gaelen gasped as the cold waters took her breath away, filling her mouth and throat. Her eyes were tightly shut, for she knew there would be nothing to see as she sank into the churning depths, aided by the stone. She released it and was swept along in the current of the Narrows, her body occasionally fetching painfully against the boulders that were strewn along the riverbed, but this brought only a dull ache to her numbed limbs. She had been holding her breath, certainly a natural response, but then she remembered her purpose and forced all the remaining air from her lungs in a silver torrent that rose rapidly to the surface, lost in the foam. Her eyes opened then—the roaring in her ears and the pounding of her heart were lost in a black tunnel that closed in around her, and she saw and heard nothing more.
Chapter 26: Out of the Darkness
Gaelen could see nothing but blackness, and could hear nothing but the roaring in her ears. Then she heard voices calling, voices that were familiar. She was reliving significant moments in her past that had elicited particularly strong emotions, and she was riveted.
Well, done, Gaelen! You will surpass your uncle Turanen one day if your eye and hand continue to improve.
You have a new cousin! Her name is Nelwyn. Come and see!
Aran is dead. He is dead, Gaelen, and you must let him go. Let him go, my daughter. You could not have prevented it.
She is but a Sylvan hunter-scout, my son. She is not a fitting consort for you, this undersized, boyish rustic with no respect for convention. And she is certainly no beauty. Whatever do you see in her?
I am certain that you go whither you will even when forbidden, O Free Spirit. I would have your company; will you ride with me?
Even were you the mightiest Elf-maiden ever to draw breath and capable of great skill at arms, I would not have you stay. The thought of losing you would be too great for me to bear. Do you understand?
I will wait for you—one day we will be together again. But in the meantime, you must live your life! And you must not live it alone, in grief for me.
You will not cross the mountains with us, but instead will remain with the Tuathan and the dwarf ? And what is your lofty motive for this course?
Gaelen, my friend, my love, thank you for being here. You carry an evil before you. Keep your distance!
Did you not hear? I will have no other. You are my love, Gaelen, to whom my heart is given.
That is why he did not kill Gaelen in Cós-domhain, though he came perilously close.
We all love you. Please come to us.
Then she heard Ri-Elathan’s cries of anguish as Wrothgar took his life. She heard his voice in her mind, as she had in the Greatwood: Gaelen… Gaelen! My heart is torn from me…I cannot stay with you, my love!
I am sorry…I cannot stay with you…Oh, my love…
Her eyes flew open, but there was only darkness around her. She was lying upon a soft, dry bed of sand near a body of calm water, over which a thick mist was hanging. The voices…they must have been coming from the mist. For a moment she forgot all about Gorgon, the mirror, an
d the Narrows, as she sat up to survey the strange, lonely landscape before her. There were weird lights in the mist. She had seen such lights hovering around bogs and marshes, but these did not seem as sinister, somehow. The water lapped gently at the sand, and there was very little other sound in her hearing, save for the voices, which were now so distant and indistinct that she could no longer decipher them.
One of the lights in the mist was growing larger, and it seemed to be coming toward her. She rose to her feet and approached the shore, straining into the blackness, to try to make out the nature of the light. It was a figure, tall and strong, with a red-orange light like a halo around it. Gaelen looked down at her own hands; they glowed and flickered with the same sort of fiery light. Her blood ran cold as she realized that she was now standing upon the shores where the shades of both the Elàni and the Aridani await transport to their respective fates. So, she was dead, then? Her memories of the Narrows and the events leading to it came back to her in a rush, and she was afraid. Then, she heard a voice calling gently; it was the fiery figure that drew ever nearer as it seemed to float across the surface of the waters.
Gaelen Taldin…my love, do not fear. I have been sent to give aid and counsel. Do not fear. It was the voice of Farahin, her beloved, and her heart leapt as she beheld his strong, grim face for the first time in well over a thousand years. She wanted to run to him, to fall into his arms and let him take her pain away. She reached out with both hands, trembling, her fiery aura burning bright around her, but he stopped just out of her reach. As she looked into his melancholy eyes, she knew there would be no opportunity to embrace him.
Rain…Rain, why won’t you hold me?
I cannot. I have been sent here for a single purpose, and I must not turn from it, though my heart would desire otherwise.
What purpose? I am dead, or I would not be here. No one has come to stay me. Are you not here to guide me to the Far Shores? I’m afraid... please guide me. Take me with you!
Ri-Elathan smiled sadly at her and shook his head, the gentle glow flaming out around him. That is not my purpose. I want nothing more than to take you with me, but I cannot. You must return to your life. It is not your time, and you have a purpose to accomplish before your end comes.
What purpose? I am dead, Rain, and I cannot return. I am dead because I willed it to be so. I have made it my time.
So you say, but it is not the will of destiny that you go with me now. I have been sent here only to waylay you, to make certain that you return at once. Though I long to be united with you again, I know that it is not to be. Not yet. This is not your choice to make. You must return, and accomplish your purpose. You are the instrument by which the evil that stalks the Elàni will end.
Gaelen let out a moan of misery, remembering the events that had driven her to take her own life. I am the instrument by which that vile creature works his evil! If I am gone, then he can no longer prey on our people using the mirror. The Greatwood will fall because of me. I cannot go back!
She reached out to him again, and he extended a tentative hand toward her. They were so close now, she could almost touch him. Then he drew back and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the fire flared around him.
You cannot turn away from your fate, Gaelen, even as I could not. The Tuathan knows how the creature may be defeated. You will work together to vanquish him and his army. Rogond is true of heart and steadfast in his love for you. Open your heart again, my love. I sorrow for you in your loneliness. He will fill your days and gladden them as I cannot. I shall await you, but only when the time is right will I rejoice in our union. That time is not now. Remember my words at our parting? Grieve for me no more.
His head lifted as though hearing a distant call. There is not much time. You must return now, my beloved. Your task remains, and soon it will be too late. Go back now, and remember that I love you.
No! Do not turn from me! Hold me, please, just hold me for a little while. I will go back, if you will only hold me now. She reached for him in desperation, but he drew farther from her.
No, Gaelen, I cannot. If I embrace you, there will be no returning. Go back now, little Taldin. Go and accomplish your task and rid our people of this scourge. You are strong in spirit, and resolute. You will prevail. I will welcome you into my arms when the time is right. He began to fade from her vision then. Gaelen could hear the voices calling him back.
Who calls to you, Beloved? Tell them that you would stay with me yet awhile. I have so many things I would know…do you hear me when I sing to you? Can you feel my heart as it cries for you in the darkness? Do you know what comes to pass in the world of the living? Are you lonely in the Vault of Eternity?
I can answer none of your questions directly, as it is not permitted. Continue to sing to me if it brings you aid, but do not grieve. Remember the Aridan. He knows how the creature may be vanquished. Go back to him, and let your heart be glad!
He faded slowly from her sight, even as her plaintive cries echoed after him, begging him to stay. Gaelen knew that he was right, she had to go back now, and time had run out. But somehow she simply could not lose him again, and without considering the consequences, she plunged into the cold, dark water, following the fading sound of his voice.
Immediately the surface became turbulent, and the once-calm waters threatened to engulf her. She blundered away from the shoreline, still calling after him, as his voice faded completely from her hearing. The water was very deep and very cold, and there was a sense that it resented this invasion, for it felt somehow hostile, as though it would either expel her or drag her under. She called Ri-Elathan’s name with failing strength, floundering in the water, choking and gasping. She knew then that she could not follow him; she had to go back. She struggled to the shore once again, the waters casting her up into the shallows, where she lay senseless and unmoving in a dark, silent world.
Rogond and Nelwyn had watched in horror as Gaelen plunged into the Narrows. They ran to the top of the bluffs to see if, against all hope, they might find where she had gone and attempt a rescue. But there was nothing to be seen save the wild water, and they despaired. Still neither would give her up as yet, and they made their way down the perilous climb to the water’s edge.
"We must be swift; the current will take her far downstream in a matter of minutes. She has not long to live!" Nelwyn wept at Rogond’s words, for she knew he was right. But for some miracle, Gaelen was surely lost to them.
Galador and Fima had gone with all speed toward the Elven- hold, arriving just as Nelwyn and Rogond caught sight of Gaelen at the Narrows. They were met by Wellyn, son of Ri-Aruin, for he had been stricken by a feeling of foreboding bordering on panic, and he would know all they could tell him. A few minutes later Wellyn, who knew Gaelen well, had swung aboard Gryffa, and the three of them were heading southward along the river, toward the Narrows.
Many minutes had gone by, and Rogond’s hope was failing. He would never retrieve Gaelen from this swift water, so cold and deep. They could see nothing beneath the surface, or along the shore. Still they kept their southward course, and soon the Narrows ended, broadening into a gentler flow. Nelwyn gave a cry, for she had seen something on the far bank that just might have been Gaelen’s faded green tunic. Then she beheld a brief, tiny glint of metal as the sunlight hit Ri-Elathan’s silver brooch, the gift of Arialde. Nelwyn gripped Rogond’s arm and pointed. With a cry, they both plunged into the icy waters. The crossing was difficult, and they had to make their way back north to where Gaelen lay, for the current had drawn them downstream. They approached her as quickly as they could, but as they drew nigh her they both suspected that they had come too late.
Gaelen’s face was expressionless, her sightless eyes were open, and her lips were blue. She was dead; Nelwyn knew it as she took Gaelen’s cold, lifeless hand. There was no spirit there, no spark of life. Nelwyn sat still as stone as Rogond knelt beside her, calling Gaelen’s name as though she had merely fallen asleep and he would awaken her.
Nelwyn began to weep, wrapping both arms around her shoulders, rocking back and forth on her knees. Rogond lifted Gaelen and held her, after searching for signs of life and finding none. There was an expression of determination on his face as he carried her from the rocky waters and laid her upon the sand. He began to compress her chest with his hands, trying to expel the water from her lungs. Murky river water gurgled ominously from her mouth and nostrils, and his hopes sank, but he kept trying. He worked on her for several minutes, now breathing for her, now trying to start her heart beating, but she was cold and still, and his hopes were in vain.
Nelwyn wrapped her arms around him, trying to stay him from his fruitless effort to bring her back, speaking soft, gentle words. "Rogond… Rogond, she is gone. She is with Farahin, and we cannot reach her. Leave her in peace. Rogond, my friend, it’s all right. She is beyond grief and pain. Let her be at peace."
Rogond seemed not to hear, and he kept trying. Nelwyn persisted, and all at once he stopped his efforts, lifted Gaelen, and held her to him, weeping quietly. Nelwyn spoke words of comfort, but his heart was broken and he did not hear.
Gaelen could feel the cold sand under her body, but could neither move nor speak. Her eyes were open, but they saw only blackness, and she heard only the waters of the Dark Lake. Then she heard Rogond’s voice. He was weeping, calling her name, saying he was sorry that he had come too late, that he had failed her. She could not respond, and her senses would give her nothing more. She then remembered her purpose, and that she had to return from this dark realm, as she was not yet welcome in it. She mustered all the strength of her spirit and tried to will herself back into Rogond’s world. Slowly and with great effort, she began to perceive the sights and sounds around her. First, she felt Rogond holding her and heard his voice. She longed for him in her heart and struggled back to him as he held her and wept. She could not breathe. She needed to breathe!