by J D Abbas
Mikaelin shoved against Yaelmargon’s chest and sat up. “You knew my parents?”
The master smiled. “I did have that honor.”
Mikaelin swiped at the tears that streamed down his face. “I barely remember them.”
“You were young when they died.” Yaelmargon’s gaze was fixed on a far-off place.
“Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
“It was only recently that I pieced together to whom you belonged. I am sorry it took me so long.” He gave Mikaelin a doleful smile. “Your parents brought you and your brothers to Queyon often. They served the Qajh, cleaning, repairing, doing whatever needed to be done. And they were here for every celebration.” Yaelmargon leaned back and crossed his legs, resting his elbows on his knees. “I was told that when your village was attacked, your parents fought side by side, bravely, ferociously. There were rumors that they had somehow managed to save their boys, but no one could tell me where you were. It was only recently, when Elena made some off-hand comment, that the pieces fell in place.”
Mikaelin scrubbed his face as he listened and tried to reconnect to that lost portion of his life. “I suppose I’ve allowed my uncle’s version of truth to taint all of my childhood. But some deadened part of me raised its head in recognition as you spoke. I see a tiny bit of light where I only ever saw darkness.” Tears poured down his face again. His chest shuddered, and he swiped at his wet cheeks. “I’m sorry. I have no control over them.”
Yaelmargon chuckled. “Neither did your father. When he stood in the Qajh, watching the light dance, he invariably wept with joy. It was one of the things your mother loved most about him.”
He lifted his head. “Truly?”
“I would not deceive you.”
Mikaelin held onto that image of his parents, imagined himself alongside them, gazing up at his father’s tears. The picture suddenly came alive and engulfed him. His father smiled down at him before ruffling his hair. His mother, who held his brother, leaned down to kiss Mikaelin’s head and to pull him closer. Warmth spread through his chest. His parents had been sensitive, gregarious, demonstrative people. They had been a happy family.
Something shifted inside of Mikaelin. He clung to the sense of having been wanted and cherished, and to the hope that he might one day become more like his father.
“Thank you,” he whispered to Yaelmargon. “You have given me a great gift.”
Chapter 28
The first signs of the dawn finally appeared. Elena had spent hours happily listening to the adventures of her adai’s youth. They had passed the night successfully, and she was anxious to complete this new day before anything else could go wrong.
It began much as it had in her dream, which sent chills through her from time to time. While she donned her wedding garb, she continually clutched the medallion around her neck to make certain she was still in a waking state. Though she was not supposed to wear any jewelry, her adai agreed that the medallion was a necessity as long as it remained beneath her garments.
As she climbed the stone steps to the wedding platform, she was nauseous with dread.
Elbrion began to sing, something he had not done in her dream. It soothed her immediately. She noticed that even the blackened rocks began to throb with life. This place was amazing—and magical. How incredibly blessed she was to be here with these people who loved her dearly. Tears of joys dampened her dark mask.
They reached the platform at the same time as Silvandir and the men with him, who had climbed the stairs on the other side of the waterfall. Yaelmargon was waiting for them, just as she had dreamt. An involuntary shiver ran through her. Elbrion increased his volume, driving the chill away.
Terzhel climbed to his spot beside Silvandir, Mishon right behind him. Charaq stood back but kept a watchful eye on the two. Elena’s heart burst with joy at the sight of her son. Terzhel eyed her warily, as if uncertain who was beneath the strange garb. She gave him a wink and a shy smile lit his face.
Do not fear. It is me under these dark clothes.
And Silvandir is the big, dark one?
Yes. We are so happy you could join us.
Terzhel blushed and looked down.
My son, you are an important part of this celebration. Today we officially become a family with Silvandir. Look at me. He did. We will find our way together. Terzhel gave the tiniest of nods.
Elena turned her attention to Silvandir. The first thing she did was study his eyes. She breathed a sigh of relief. Though he wore the mask, she could see he was smiling. His eyes were lit with life and brimmed with glistening tears.
“All is well, my love,” he whispered as he reached for her hand and held it firmly.
Yaelmargon began the ceremony while Elena gazed at her soon-to-be husband. She saw something—something she had never noticed before. Aside from the silver flecks that looked like star trails against the deep brown irises, which always mesmerized her, there was an amazing new depth to Silvandir’s eyes. It was as if she looked into a long tunnel. A pinpoint of brilliant illumination winked at her from the far end of the shaft. It drew her forward, inviting her to enter into the expanse.
The walls of the tunnel whirled as she stepped forward. She struggled for balance, and yet she could not stop herself from moving toward the light. Haunting whispers echoed in the shaft, but she could not make out the words. She strained to hear. They were not speaking Borok or Elnar. Desperation to know their meaning gripped her.
“Please, oh please, let me understand,” she said as the longing consumed her.
Suddenly, she was yanked back to the platform of Ellisia.
“Elena?”
It was Yaelmargon. She glanced at him, startled and confused.
“Are you well?”
She nodded and quickly gathered herself. “Sorry, I just got absorbed in Silvandir’s eyes,” she answered in half-truth.
The men laughed, not fully understanding. Yaelmargon concluded his welcome and introduction. He then invited Silvandir to speak his vows. Elena hesitated to look at him, afraid she might be lured away again. When she gathered her courage, she was greeted by the familiar, shining eyes of her friend and love—and nothing beyond.
Silvandir gave a more eloquent avowal of his adoration than she had dreamt he would. His words were full of passion and vulnerability, which helped to lessen her dread.
“Elena, you are the most complex person I have ever met. Every day with you is an unexpected adventure.” Elena frowned. They did not need adventure. They needed boring stability, a safe haven in which to raise their children, though she didn’t believe such places existed, at least not for her.
Silvandir squeezed her hand. “A delightful adventure, my love. I look forward to exploring every facet of who you are. I choose the child part of you. I choose the warrior. I choose the one filled with rage. I choose the sensual one.” His eyes twinkled at those words. “And I choose the many I have not seen but hope to come to know. Every part of you is precious to me, and I will do my best to befriend each one and provide what you may need.” His thumbs drew circles on the backs of her hands. “I embrace you in your entirety, and I pray that you will receive me.” He paused and drew a shaky breath.
“I need you, Elena. You have awakened my slumbering heart. You have filled a void in me I did not even know I had. When I lost you on the Pallanor Heights, it nearly destroyed me. I did not know I could love like that. I had never known true passion or desire until you came into my life. I can no longer imagine life without you, and I hope I never have to be in that place again.
“I promise to be a good father to Terzhel and to our extra boy, Mishon.” Out of the corner of her eye, Elena saw the boys grin at each other. “And to our child yet unborn: I will protect and provide to the best I am able.
“I pledge all I am to Terzhel and Mishon, and to you. I vow to help you all find joy in this life, love to its fullest, and a deep sense of peace and wholeness.”
The corners of Silvandir’s eyes
crinkled, and Elena knew he smiled behind his mask. They both glanced at Terzhel. Mishon gripped the younger boy’s shoulders as if afraid he might collapse, but Terzhel looked steady. He stared up at them, wide-eyed, his sweet face filled with innocent joy. Tears burned in Elena’s eyes, but she swallowed them down. She had to be strong; she still had to speak.
Every word she had planned scattered like chaff in the wind. She was ashamed she could not find poignant expressions to match Silvandir’s. She felt herself begin to fade and shift. Silvandir tightened the grip on her hand.
“Elena, it is not about the words,” Yaelmargon encouraged her. “It is about your heart. Do not give in to shame and fear. We are all here to rejoice with you.”
Elena nodded nervously. Her heart pounded, and her hands shook. “Silvandir, I never thought I would see this day with any man.” She stopped as tears spilled and her voice caught. So much for being strong. Silvandir reached for her other hand and held both firmly. “I didn’t think it was possible for someone to love me, as … as you love me.” She blushed, fumbling for words. “And I didn’t think I could love. I thought my heart was lifeless. I thought it too broken to allow another in. And yet in you came.” She paused and worked to swallow the lump in her throat that strangled her words. “I love you; with all my broken heart, I love you,” she whispered. She felt the burst of joy that went through Silvandir. “I trust you. I need you. I want you. And I vow to give to you as much of myself as I am able. I want to bring joy, laughter, and comfort to you and Terzhel for as”—when, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mishon put his hands on his hips and scowl, Elena quickly amended her words—“to you, Terzhel, and Mishon for as many years as we are granted.”
Her throat constricted and her tears erupted. It was fruitless to try to utter anything else. She turned her blurred gaze to the master.
“Silvandir, do you have a token of your pledge?” Yaelmargon asked.
Mikaelin handed Silvandir a petite armband of delicate silver vines that matched the circlet Elbrion had given her. He slid it up her right arm and squeezed it gently into place above her elbow. He caressed her soft skin for a moment, sending chills of anticipation through her body. She could tell he was smiling broadly beneath his mask.
“Elena, do you have a token of your pledge?” the master asked.
Elena looked with dismay at her adai. They had not informed her of this part of the ceremony.
Celdorn stepped forward and handed her an armband. “It was my father’s,” he said softly. It was an intricate band etched with Celdorn’s family crest. “Silvandir is now part of our family.”
Elena slid the band up Silvandir’s right arm. Her hands caressed the muscles around which it twisted, quickening her heartbeat and, she suspected, his as well. She gazed up at him playfully.
Yaelmargon addressed the witnesses. “Do you pledge to encourage and strengthen this young couple as they develop their life of union?”
The witnesses heartily pledged so.
I promise, a small voice whispered in her head.
“Silvandir, you may reveal your wife.”
Silvandir quickly unwrapped Elena, and she grinned up at him, relieved to be free of her mask.
“Elena, you may reveal your husband.”
Her smile fled. She grasped for the medallion beneath her tunic. It was there. She heard Elbrion begin to chant behind her. She reached out her shaking hand and pulled the wrap from Silvandir’s neck and unwound the rest. She was delighted to find his familiar smile behind the mask.
He did not waste a moment. As soon as he was free, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her fear away. Joy exploded in Elena as their flesh touched. When they finally parted, she realized that hundreds of voices had joined Elbrion’s, making it seem as if the mountains themselves were singing.
“It is the briochellai,” Yaelmargon said, before she could voice the question. “They are scattered among the mountains to celebrate this day with you.
“Now,” he said, addressing the couple, “you may enter into your new life together.” He gestured toward the waterfall.
Simultaneously, the two turned to Terzhel and Mishon. They knelt in front of the boys and Silvandir said, “We are officially a family.” They gathered both boys into a group hug despite how Terzhel stiffened. “We will leave for a short time, but we will come see you soon.”
They stood and turned toward the falls. Elena took a deep breath, and Silvandir put his arm around her shoulders. “I won’t let go,” he promised. “All will be well, as your ada would say.”
Elena glanced at Celdorn. He was weeping as was Elbrion. She pulled away from Silvandir and ran to embrace them.
“Go with our blessing, little one,” Celdorn choked out.
“And with our love, Sheya,” Elbrion added.
She kissed them both and turned back to Silvandir. He again wrapped his arm around her, and they braced themselves to face the falls of Ellisia.
The moment they touched the water, Elena cried out in agony. Somehow, in a matter of seconds, every beating she had ever experienced, every rape that had crushed her soul, every bit of hatred or malice that had been inflicted upon her flesh, burst from within her. It was far worse than anything she had imagined. She thought her body might actually explode.
~
Those watching saw a blazing fire erupt in spite of the flow of the waters. Then a white light, as blinding as the sun, burst in every direction, forcing the observers to look away.
As quickly as it came, it was gone, and they knew all was well.
Chapter 29
“Silvandir?” Elena cried.
“I am here, my love.” He tightened his grip around her shoulder and pulled her from the flow of the waters into his embrace. “Are you all right?”
“I think so,” she said, relieved to be done with that. She raised her eyes to his. “We survived.”
Silvandir tenderly kissed her, and she was suddenly aware of their bare flesh touching for the first time. Her heart raced.
“That wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected.” He pulled back and locked gaze with her. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice husky with emotion.
“I love you,’ she whispered back, lost in the joy that beamed from his eyes.
With a deep breath, Silvandir stepped back and allowed himself to scan her naked body for the first time with all the abandon of a lover. Elena too nervously explored the vision of her husband’s form.
As her gaze swept below his waist, her breath caught and her eyes widened.
Silvandir tipped his head. “The sight of you thrills me?” Playfulness in his tone.
When she didn’t immediately return his smile, he grabbed the white robes that were draped over a chair and wrapped one around himself to hide his arousal before he handed the other to her. “I expect nothing,” he reminded her. “Please, do not fear.”
Elena raised her eyes to his. “I’m not afraid,” she whispered, her breath tight. “Just … just surprised. Don’t cover your body. I want to memorize every inch of it, enjoy every detail.” She slid the robe from his shoulders and drank in his magnificent form starting with the long, dark, plumb-line-straight tresses on his head, edged with their beautiful silver highlights, and ending with the massive feet that supported his broad frame. Every bit she had not seen before was worth the wait. He was a work of the ancient gods.
Silvandir, awkward under her scrutiny, took her face in his hands and kissed her again. Elena pressed her body into his, savoring the sensation. She ran her fingers through his hair, amazed at the softness of his locks. She caressed the sides of his face, her thumbs tracing his strong jaw line. As her hands slid to his shoulders, his muscles grew taut and his kiss intensified.
She pulled her lips back briefly and whispered, “Take me to the bed.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, he swept her into his arms and carried her across the cave, gently laying her on the soft linens. Elena refused to open her eyes at that point, afraid it
would all look as it had in her dream. She didn’t want to be distracted. She focused all her energy on the pleasure Silvandir’s touch brought to her body, slowly erasing the torment of the waters of Ellisia, which still throbbed in her flesh.
As Silvandir lay down beside her, Elena grasped the medallion around her neck, just to be certain she was awake.
Silvandir tipped her face toward his. “Open your eyes, Elena.” She hesitantly obeyed, finding his adoring gaze waiting for her. “Are you certain?” he asked. “I will wait. As long as you need me to, I will wait.”
“I want you,” she whispered. “With every part of my being.”
Silvandir’s massive, rugged hands began to explore her flesh with incredible tenderness. He followed each caress with a gentle kiss. Elena’s body arched with pleasure as he moved ever closer to her belly.
A mischievous grin spread across his face. “You need to close your eyes for a while, little lady, and give your mother and me some privacy,” he murmured to their daughter. Elena’s body shook with laughter.
Silvandir continued his exploration until Elena could stand it no longer. She tugged his face toward her and kissed him with all the force of the fire consuming her body. She pulled back and gazed into his eyes. “Please,” she begged.
Silvandir smiled with understanding. He moved himself on top of her, careful to support his own weight. He held her gaze as he lowered himself, teasing, stroking. When her flesh opened to embrace him, he jerked back as if he’d been stung and rolled to his side, panting heavily.
“What’s wrong?”
The flush faded from Silvandir’s flesh, leaving him blanched. He looked almost ... frightened as he heaved in breath. He continued to stare at the ceiling, unwilling to meet her gaze. “I-I do not want to rush you,” he finally replied.