Birth of Innocence: The Innocence Cycle, Book 4

by J D Abbas

  Silvandir rose and held out his hand to Elena. Excitement bubbled in her stomach as she jumped up and turned to Vionessa. “Yes, we would love to.”

  The maiden beckoned for them to follow. She led the way to an open area near the musicians. Elrodanar men and a few Guardians were already partnered with the briochellai and waiting for the music to begin. Elena could hardly contain her enthusiasm.

  They joined a circle with Vionessa, her partner, and four other couples. The flutes and pipes began a blithe tune set to the steady cadence of the drums. Silvandir showed her the basic placement and movement of her feet, and before long, they were pulled into motion along with the group. As hands clasped and partners whirled, Elena kept in step. Gradually she overcame the stiffness and self-consciousness of the learning process and allowed herself to feel the music and the sheer joy of the dance.

  “You’re doing well for a beginner,” Silvandir encouraged her. “You have natural grace and rhythm.” He was being generous. She’d tripped over his feet at least five times.

  At the edge of the crowd, Elena caught sight of Charaq teaching the boys some of the steps. Her heart swelled with warmth when Terzhel broke into a grin. Even the stoic Mishon tossed his head back and laughed like a normal six-year-old as the two clasped hands and spun in circles until they dropped to the ground.

  The song ended. Elena clapped with delight, her face flushed from the effort. She was so happy, she couldn’t stop smiling. A few kicks in her belly told her the baby was enjoying it as well. Celdorn and Elbrion watched from the sidelines with expressions that told her they shared in her glee.

  The next dance was for women only. Elena was welcomed into one of the circles. Each maiden was given a set of long, wide ribbons. Vionessa explained that it was an ancient dance, believed to be the first one performed by the briochellai when they entered Queyon. She showed Elena the basic steps and how to use the ribbons.

  The musicians began slowly so that Elena could keep up with the others. As she grasped the steps, the tempo gradually increased. This dance allowed far more freedom of movement as the maidens leapt and kicked while their arms swung in constant motion. The ribbons flowed and twirled as their bodies spun. Elena erupted in giggles, relishing every moment of the dance. Again, she caught on quickly and was able to move freely as if she had been doing this all of her life.

  At one point in the dance, the maidens reached out and selected partners to join them, just as the first briochellai had once invited the enamored Roddan. While Elena encouraged Silvandir to join her, she noticed a briochella coaxing the serious Charaq to dance as well. The boys erupted in giggles as Charaq blushed and joined her.

  Silvandir seemed less comfortable with this dance since it required more abandon, but he made a valiant effort for Elena’s sake.

  The cadence of the jig increased with each cycle until it reached a near frenetic tempo. Elena was breathing heavily from the effort but refused to quit. She spun and leapt and laughed, certain she would burst from sheer joy. She grasped Silvandir’s hand firmly and squeezed.

  ~

  Celdorn’s chest swelled with contentment and pride as he watched their daughter and her new husband. He and Elbrion had found chairs closer to where the couple danced, so they could share in their joy. Elena reached for Silvandir’s hand and together they twirled to the frantic beat, her delight written all over her face, as was Silvandir’s. Celdorn rejoiced that after yesterday’s events, they could find moments of such bliss.

  A flash of light erupted in the middle of the dancers. Celdorn jumped up and search for Elena. His heart stuttered when he realized she had burst into white flames. A second later, Silvandir was engulfed as well. Celdorn ran forward ready to knock them to the ground and smother the flames, but Yaelmargon blocked his path.

  “Do not touch them. You will only make it worse,” he warned. “This is not a natural fire.”

  Celdorn pulled up short, a few feet away from the couple, with Elbrion beside him. Elena seemed oblivious to what was happening until the music screeched to a halt, and she noticed the crowd staring at them. She turned toward Silvandir, who was barely visible amidst the massive white flames, and let out a horrified scream.

  Council elders immediately ringed the couple. By then, Silvandir had dropped to his knees, his face contorted in an agonized rigor, though he uttered not a sound. Panicked, Elena froze and clutched Silvandir’s hand as if he might be pulled away from her at any moment.

  “Terzhel, stop!” Mishon yelled as a flash of blond hair flew past Celdorn’s legs.

  Celdorn tried to grab the young boy as he raced toward his parents, but he missed.

  Terzhel crashed into Elena, knocking her to the ground and separating her from Silvandir. Instantly, the flames engulfing Silvandir vanished, and he collapsed on to his side, seized by fits of jerks and spasms. Mikaelin rushed to his aid, followed by Dalgo.

  As Elena and Terzhel tumbled, the boy burst into flames, though he didn’t react as if he were in pain. Elena screamed when she saw the white fire consume her son. She scrambled to her knees and shoved him into the grass.

  “Oh El, no. Don’t let this happen,” she cried as she rolled her son to smother the flames. At the edge of the circle, Charaq restrained Mishon from rushing into the fray to defend his self-appointed ward.

  “Elena, move away from Terzhel,” Yaelmargon called. “You are the source of the flames.”

  Elena froze and stared at her hands as if they were foreign objects. Then, with a violent jerk, she pulled herself away from Terzhel. The fire around the boy winked out. He rolled onto his back, eyes locked on his mother, with no sign of injury.

  Terzhel sprang to his feet and frantically waved at those gathered around. His lips moved in silent entreaty as he hopped from foot to foot and pointed at Elena. The flames around her continued unabated. “H-help herth,” the boy finally managed to sputter out.

  Elena gaped at her own arms as if just realizing that she too was alight.

  “Yaena, close your eyes and breathe deeply,” Yaelmargon instructed her as he inched nearer.

  Elena’s wide eyes fixed on him. As his words sank in, her head bobbed and she obeyed. Gradually, the flames subsided. Celdorn and Elbrion hurried to her side just as she slumped over her knees. Terzhel scrambled closer and snuggled into her side, his pale face streaked with tears.

  “I’m all right,” she whispered as she gripped her son’s hand.

  Celdorn cradled Elena in his arms and did a quick scan of her body. “Does anything hurt?” As his gaze drifted to her neck, his mouth dropped open, and he froze in stunned silence. The emerald pendant she’d been wearing had melted into her flesh.

  Elena’s gaze followed his. When she saw the buried jewel, she let go of Terzhel and clawed at her flesh. “Get it out! Get it out!”

  Elbrion grabbed her hands. “Stop, Elena. You will hurt yourself. It is deeply embedded.” He stroked her arms, chanting and whispering soothing words. “It will be all right, Sheyshon. Breathe.” When her panic subsided, Elbrion went on to explain more fully to Elena what the rest of them could see—a sight that made Celdorn cringe. “Your other jewels have been absorbed as well.”

  Celdorn gingerly touched the emerald and tiny diamonds from the circlet that were now a part of Elena’s forehead and scattered along her scalp where it had encircled her head. The same was true with the bracelets on her wrists.

  “It seems all of the metal has dissolved and only the gems remain. Fascinating,” Elbrion murmured. “And you feel no pain?”

  Elena shook her head, her eyes still wide with fear. It was only then she noticed Silvandir on the ground. She shot upright. “Oh no! What have I done?”

  Mikaelin and Dalgo had just helped Silvandir to sit up. His face was locked in a grimace.

  Elena scrambled over to him on her hands and knees. When she saw his forehead, she let out a sharp gasp. Silvandir’s circlet had also fused into his flesh, the jewels clearly evident across his forehead. She pulled open
his shirt and found the medallion with their family crest embedded in his chest. The chain had melted away but the pendant remained.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “I’m … in pain,” he forced out through clenched teeth.

  She pointed to the medallion. “Is that what hurts?” The skin around the pendant was livid red and blistered.

  Silvandir nodded and winced when he glanced down at the medal. “Feels like ... being branded.”

  “What do I do?” she asked Yaelmargon.

  The master frowned and stroked his beard. “I am at a loss.” With a sweep of his hand, he deferred to Hezhion, the elder most gifted in healing.

  “I am not certain either,” said Hezhion, “but you might lay your hand upon the medallion and speak words of light.”

  Elena gingerly touched the hot metal, closed her eyes, and begged aloud for healing power. Her hands again lit with white fire. Silvandir yelped and shoved her away. Elena fell back onto her rear, her expression a mixture of surprise and hurt.

  “I’m ... so sorry.” Silvandir pushed the words out between gasps of pain.

  “I know. I know. It’s all right.” Elena pulled herself to her knees and turned to Hezhion. “What do I do now? That just made it worse.”

  The metal had turned a brilliant, throbbing red in Silvandir’s shuddering chest.

  “Sheya, close your eyes and listen to your heart,” Elbrion said.

  Elena did as she was told, but her body shook with frantic sobs.

  “Breathe deeply and slowly, Sheyshon.”

  Her body went still, except for the rise and fall of her chest. Moments later, her eyes popped open as if something had startled her. Her brows pulled into a deep scowl.

  “Follow your instinct, even if it seems odd,” Elbrion told her.

  She crawled toward Silvandir. “Forgive me if I hurt you further.”

  “It’s all right, Elena. Do what you must.” Silvandir clenched his fists and set his jaw, every muscle in his body rigid, prepared for the worst.

  Elena took a deep breath, leaned forward, and lightly blew on Silvandir’s sternum. Ice formed around the metal, and Silvandir’s chest visibly relaxed. Elena stared in disbelief, but when she realized it had been successful, she eagerly blew on his forehead. Silvandir’s jaw loosened, and he drew in a deep breath.

  When that pain subsided, Silvandir glanced at his arm. He gingerly slipped the shirt from his shoulder and revealed a fiery-red armband, which was now buried in his flesh. Elena blew on it, and it paled.

  Freed from his own agony, Silvandir studied his bride. “Does it not hurt you?” He stroked the gems on her forehead and chest and caressed her armband, which was also embedded.

  Elena shook her head. “I don’t understand what happened,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, Silvandir.”

  “Elena, you are not responsible for this. I don’t know how it happened, but I am certain you did nothing intentionally. You were just enjoying the dance.” He gave her a wistful smile before he turned to the council members. “Can you explain?”

  The elders glanced at one another, but did not reply. Celdorn realized it was the crowd of spectators that drove their caution.

  Finally, Lamreth stepped closer and spoke in a quiet undertone. “It would seem, Elena, that your emotions are rather explosive.”

  A blush rose on Elena’s cheeks even as a deep frown formed.

  “Amazingly, your happiness and enthusiasm take on physical manifestations just as your anger and fear do. You have brought a whole new meaning to ‘alight with joy.’” The Xiander’s eyes twinkled and he broke into a gentle smile.

  Elena did not share his amusement. The elder quickly sobered when she held out her wrists. “What do we do about this?” she asked, a demand in her question.

  The elders exchanged glances.

  “I do not believe they can be removed,” Hezhion replied. “They have fused into your flesh. We could try to excise them, but there would be significant damage.”

  “But will it not make us sick to have these embedded in our skin?”

  “I suppose if you become ill, then we will have to make the attempt. I suspect, however, that they will cause you no harm. The Jhadhela guards your life.” At her scowl, Hezhion lifted his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I know. I know. But this, hmm ... event ... has been allowed for some reason.”

  Elena turned to Silvandir, shoulders hunched, and gave a defeated sigh. “I am so sorry.” She started to reach for his wrist, but pulled back with a tearful frown.

  Silvandir grabbed her retreating hand. “Well, at least you don’t need to fear I will misplace my armband,” he teased.

  Elena attempted a smile, but after she glanced around at the crowd, it melted into embarrassment and shame. She curled into Silvandir’s arms and buried her face in his chest, sobbing. “I have ruined our day.”

  “You’ve done no such—”

  A massive crash of thunder rumbled in the distance, drowning out the rest of his words. Bulbous storm clouds tumbled over the valley, shoved forward by a sudden icy wind that snapped and bit its way through the meadow.

  Wrapped in Silvandir’s arms and her own sorrow, Elena was oblivious. The elders, however, studied the sky with concern. This was an ill wind.

  Another clap of thunder sounded, followed by a bolt of lightning which struck the ground just beyond the meadow. Elena’s head snapped up, and she stared toward the north, her expression sick with dread. “This is not good.”

  “What do you sense, Sheyshon?” Elbrion asked.

  Just then, lightning struck a few feet from where Terzhel stood.

  Elena jumped to her feet. “Don’t you dare touch him.” Silvandir rose a little more slowly and gripped Elena’s arms. Terzhel would have joined them, but Celdorn restrained him, afraid they might be the target of the storm.

  The thunder of hooves sounded around them and hundreds of Ilqazar appeared, ringing the meadow as if the lightning bolts had been a call to arms. They did not enter the dale, but stood alert, ready to assist in whatever was about to unfold.

  Elena planted herself in front of Silvandir, her feet spread and braced as if for battle. Her expression turned to simmering fury as she scowled at the sky, eyes now black. “I see you. I know what you’re doing.”

  Celdorn lifted Terzhel into the protection of his arms as the clouds formed into a ring above the meadow. He looked across and saw Charaq do the same with Mishon. The wind increased around them, creating a vortex. Another lightning bolt struck a few yards to Elena’s right. Then, in rapid succession, three more hit the ground, narrowly missing those gathered around her.

  Elena’s hands curled into fists and she raised them toward the north. “Leave my loved ones alone.” As she called out her defiance, her physical form grew taller and darker.

  Large hailstones began to pelt the crowd. People climbed beneath the tables or ran for the cover of the trees.

  “Stop!” As Elena shook her fists, the emeralds on her wrists and forehead throbbed with the pulse of her angry heartbeat. Celdorn’s attention was riveted by the green glow, which emanated outward from the jewels. The light stretched into beams that reached toward each other and formed a vivid triangle. The stone in Elena’s chest began to pulsate as well. An intense shaft of light shot from the pendant and through the triangle created by the other stones. As it did, the triangle’s energy collapsed into the beam from her chest, forming one massive shaft of emerald light aimed at the thunderhead directly above her. The light beam rent the cloud with a deafening explosion.

  Elena stumbled and the light winked out. She gripped her head and dropped to her knees. A dozen girls from the encampment burst through the ring of people that surrounded Elena and ran toward her. They gathered in a circle and laid their hands on her shoulders. Terzhel wiggled free from Celdorn’s arms and ran to join them. The little boy gripped Elena’s face and said something Celdorn could not hear.

  Elena rose, her expression and muscles ta
ut with rage. The children jostled and adjusted so all could keep a hand on her. An aura of white light began to pulsate around Elena. It gradually spread to include the children, then widened until it encompassed all those in the crowd.

  With bold determination, Elena lifted her hands, palms out, and pushed her arms apart. A large chasm formed in the sky as the clouds separated and moved toward the sides of the meadow, following the movements of her arms. Elena twisted her wrists and clenched her fists again. The clouds mimicked the motion and gathered into clusters. Then as she opened her hands and thrust them to the sides, the thunderheads moved to the east and to the west and were gone. An awed hush fell over Khala Lengoan.

  Elena, hands still raised, blinked at the sky from suddenly vacuous eyes. Her face grew pallid and her body quaked as if with an ague. She sank to the ground, breathing heavily. The girls backed away from her in silence, dropped to their knees, and bowed their heads toward her as if paying homage. Terzhel alone stayed beside his mother, eyes fixed on her face, for once unafraid.

  Elbrion was the first to break out of the awe of the moment. He ran to Elena and gathered her in his arms just as she swooned. Celdorn was on his heels. Silvandir squatted beside them and embraced Terzhel, blinking as he gaped at the sky. Mishon nearly toppled the two as he threw his arms around them. Charaq stood back with Mikaelin, watchful of the crowd.

  “What have I done?” Elena said as she curled into Elbrion’s chest. “I shifted again, didn’t I?” The question was laced with shame.

  Elbrion cradled her tightly. “You did no harm, Sheyshon. In fact, you battled well,” he assured her.

  Elena snuggled in closer and whispered, “Please take me home.”

  “Close your eyes and rest, Sheya.” Elbrion chanted as he lifted her and stood. His voice rose, soothing the fears that laced the crowd.

  Celdorn walked alongside, kissing Elena’s forehead tenderly, amazed by what she had done and frightened for her at the same time.

  Silvandir rose and leaned on Mikaelin, pallid and shaky. He gave the boys over to Charaq’s care as they followed Elena from the field.