by Etzoli
I felt like she’d just hit me in the face with a sack full of bricks. My sister, my happy ray of sunshine sibling, who I’d spent six years searching for, who had turned the tide of the war along with Carl, was still dealing with so much more than I could imagine, or understand—and in some twisted, indirect way, I was responsible for this. I’d brought us home, and by doing so, I’d cut her life drastically short.
“You’re blaming yourself, aren’t you? Cut that out.” Sara grasped my arm. I looked around, and saw a fire in her eyes. “You saved her. You got her home. You couldn’t’ve known.”
“She didn’t have to come home though,” I said weakly, words I hadn’t dared to voice even in my own head.
“What?”
“She could have stayed. It was my decision to bring us all back. I could have let her stay.”
“But—”
“She was happy there, I think. She had friends. She had a family. A best friend named Naeflin. And she had a position of real importance. Prestige. She was the sylajen , she ended a whole war and united the kingdom.” A warm streak rolled down my face. I reached up to brush it away. “I was proud of her. Proud to be her brother. Then I ran away. I selfishly forced her back to the real world, where she’s got no accomplishments, where she’s terrified and hurting and I can’t do anything for her. All because I was scared to come home alone.”
Sara shook her head. “Don’t be an idiot. If you came back alone, you’d be in even worse trouble. How could you have explained that to your mom? Or to the world?” Sara put an arm around me, and pulled me into a hug. “Hindsight’s a stupid useless thing. I’m super biased, but I think you made the right call.” She stepped back and smiled. “Come on. Let’s go back.”
“Pretty awful first date,” I joked, though my voice was still thick.
“As if. I got to see the closest thing to a real elf on this whole planet, and I got to feel up a great looking guy.” She grinned and took my hand. “Just promise that our second date won’t involve you bursting into tears.”
“Deal,” I said, with a burst of completely incongruous joy at the words ‘second date’.
***
Despite that happy note, the rest of the date was mostly awkward silences punctured by brief anecdotes of Cyraveil. Sara seemed way more interested in anything having to do with Jen, which didn’t surprise me, since we’d barely hung out before. I couldn’t blame her for her curiosity—or her concern, since I was just as worried myself.
It was one thing for Sara to insist I didn’t get lost in hindsight, but quite another for me to actually follow that advice. I felt like reflection was productive in some cases. Looking back on my mistakes was a useful tool for learning. In this case though, Sara was probably right. My decisions had been made in a radically different situation, in a castle on another world. How could I possibly judge them against my life now?
Yet I couldn’t help myself. I ran circles in my head, blaming myself over and over. I wanted desperately to find a solution, anything I could do to help Jen. Anything to help my sister out of the rut of despair she’d found herself trapped within.
For the second time since we’d come back, I wondered if she truly belonged in Cyraveil.
I didn’t dismiss it so fast as I had before. By all accounts, Jen had taken to Cyraveil so thoroughly that the Sylves considered her one of their own. That might just sound special, but really, it was totally unique. So far as I knew, including what Carl had told me in his own research, the Sylves were incredibly insular and xenophobic. They were openly dismissive, if not outright hostile to all attempts at contact by human settlers. A rare few traded with humans, but for the most part, they maintained the circle of silence to a man—err, elf.
So how was it that Jen, a perfectly ordinary human from another world, had so perfectly ingratiated herself that they gave her a new name, and adopted her as one of their own?
I wanted to hear that story, but I knew I could only get it from Jen herself—and she had never been in a state to share it since I’d reunited with her. First, it was the negotiations, where she hadn’t even recognized me. She was so busy juggling the various dignitaries, generals and nobles—while still struggling through basic English—that she just glanced right over me without a second thought.
Every Sylf commander present treated her with the utmost respect. An older looking elf with very kind, silvery eyes watched her every move from afar, usually perched in the corner of the tent like a wise old owl (not that he looked a day over thirty). In turned, I watched him, carefully. I later learned his name was Tethevallen Sylnanden, and that he was the elder of sorts for the forest where Jen had first appeared.
I only spoke to him once, on the eve of his death. I’d asked him, after stumbling through what I’m sure was awful Etoline, what he thought of my sister. He laughed, and answered me with a clap on the back and a string of words I hadn’t understood in the slightest, even after two tries. When I repeated them carefully to Jen the next day, she looked embarrassed, but thoroughly pleased with herself.
Of course, only an hour later, we found his dead body on the side of a cliff, pinned to the wall with a scroll stuffed in his mouth. Jen’s happiness hadn’t lasted long.
The memory of that event sent me spinning back into the present as I drove Sara home. How could I have even considered sending Jen back to that place? Where war and pain and darkness loomed high in memory, and our friends were slaughtered by a delusional madman?
Our worlds were separate—and should remain separate. I’d find a way to help Jen, no matter what it took. Once we were united again, we could stabilize Carl, and the three of us would return to a normal life. The path was beginning to clear up once again. I could see the bricks in the road once more as it stretched out to the horizon. All I had to do was start walking it once again.
***
As I pulled into our garage, the first step revealed itself, like fate sending me a signal to begin. Jen had just walked through the front door, after probably taking the bus home. It was time for a talk, and she knew it too. She went straight to the living room as I walked in. I stalled a bit, pouring myself a glass of water and grabbing a bowl of chips before I sat down on the couch opposite her.
“So,” I started, but Jen cut in before I could say another word.
“Yeah, I went hunting. I needed to be alone, and it seemed like a good place to go. Nobody saw me. Got a problem?” Her voice was instantly hostile. I recoiled. I didn’t want this to be a confrontation, not at all.
“I was just going to ask how your day went.”
“ Keldaphut. You were getting ready to lay down a lecture.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Do you want a lecture?”
“Matt, I’m twenty three years old. No, I don’t give a shit how old I look right now. That’s where my mind’s at. I don’t need a lecture from my brother.” Jen leaned forward in her chair. “What I do need is some support, because I’m barely holding on by a twig here.”
I sat back, unsure how to respond, and Jen took that as reason enough to keep rambling.
“I’m scared, okay? I’m sure you already heard about what I did at school yesterday, since you always know everything.”
“Back up a second. What happened at school?”
Jen faltered. She shifted in her chair, glancing away. “Oh. Uhh… shit. Well, I kind of went all out on a guy, just for a second. It was a super easy takedown, I couldn’t help it. He ran into me and I just… reacted.”
I shook my head. “Well, if I didn’t hear about it by now, it probably wasn’t that big a deal. What happened last night though?” Her lips squeezed shut. I sighed. “Jen, you said it yourself. You need support right now. Talk to me.”
“…I don’t know,” she murmured. Her voice cracked as she continued. It was clear she was barely keeping herself from falling apart. “Everything was going great. I felt better than I have in years. All Sara’s work, no thanks to me. But then all through dinner… I don’t know if it wa
s me, or if it was just because there were too many people around. But I felt… vack. In danger. Uhh…” Jen paused, searching for the word. Her eyes always darted around in the same way whenever she was trying to think in English. “Threatened.”
I wanted to get up and go to her, to hug her and reassure her that everything would be all right—but I knew, in her current state, that I would only make things worse. She didn’t need someone physically by her side. I didn’t know what she needed. I just had to hope I could provide it.
“You thought you might attack them,” I concluded. Jen nodded, looking ashamed of herself. “But nothing happened, right?”
“Nothing.”
“Then it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I don’t want to keep feeling like this, Matt,” she cried. “ Vei kilsve dov vei nalv vnulvus. ”
I couldn’t understand what she’d said, but the emotions behind it channeled more feeling than anything from her in English could have. It was so full of bitter desperation that my heart wanted to burst out from my chest.
What could I say?
Tell her it would get better over time? I believed it would, but the words felt so hollow and empty in the moment.
Should I offer her anything she wanted? Try to provide for her, like I always did?
Did she want something stern and commanding, or did she need kind and gentle?
Why was I the father figure? The leader, the general, the commander?
I hated my thoughts for turning back to me again. This was about Jen, not me. I didn’t have time to worry about me right now.
An idea struck me.
“Jen, tell me about Tethevallen.”
It was a shot in the dark. Something we’d never had time to discuss, but the elf was clearly of great importance, and nearly everything was a positive memory. Something she could anchor herself to. It might not have been of this world, but I’d take anything that pulled her out of this spiral.
Jen blinked furiously for a few moments, looking startled. “About Tethevallen? Like what?”
“Who was he? I mean, he obviously cared a lot about you. I only met him once, but he seemed like a great man.”
Jen wiped her eye with a sleeve. “He was my father.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Not literally.”
“No, ‘course not.” Jen rolled her reddened-eyes, but she smirked slightly at my joke. “But he adopted me, basically, when nobody else would. He gave me a name, and brought me into our suunsyl . If he hadn’t found me that week, when I was starving to death, I wouldn’t be here now having this great chat with you.”
I was never more aware of Jen’s elven accent than that moment. As she talked about her other family, the one I’d never known, I could hear their culture right through her voice—that unique sound I’d never heard anywhere else. Carl might seem crazy to me about the supposed ‘magical language’, but that accent was certainly something special.
“You couldn’t understand him though.”
Jen smiled. “Not a word. We got some good hand gestures down after a while. He didn’t learn any English ‘til after the war started. I asked him about it years later, and he said English was apparently forbidden long ago. I was the first in the entire suunsyl to learn it, and between the two of us, we started teaching others.”
“Sorry to interrupt, but what does suunsyl mean?”
Jen giggled. “Sorry. Hard to remember you’re an uneducated lunkhead . ”
I raised my eyebrows exaggeratedly. “How did you learn a whole language that quickly?”
“Magic, duralav-hila. ” She grinned. “ Suunsyl is a… vack. Shortening. Of two words.”
“Abbreviation,” I supplied. “ Lunkhead. ” Jen chucked a pillow at me. It slammed into the wall, right where my head had been an instant earlier. “Is that really the best you could come up with?”
“I could do way better, but you wouldn’t understand it, so what’s the point?” Jen sighed mockingly. “Anyway. Suunsyl is an abbreviation of suunis and sylvec , meaning ‘our forest’. Really just means a group of Sylves though. Or a home. A community, I guess you’d call it.”
“Huh.”
“Language lessons with Jennifer Silverdale.” She gave a mock bow, twirling her hand. “Hey look, it worked. You… syldavacka . You manipulative bastard. That’s the one.” Jen laughed. “I’m all cheerful now, good for you.”
In spite of the insult, I laughed too. The best strategies I ever devised were as straightforward as that one. I knew if I could just get her talking, on any subject related to her adopted heritage, she’d regain some kind of peace. Much better than the doubt-filled, angry, fearful creature I’d first walked in on, at any rate.
I wish it could have lasted, but as per the norm, fate’s ugly claws were reaching for us once more.
A knock came at the front door. Our heads both snapped in that direction. It was the middle of the day; no one we knew was likely to come calling, were they?
The knock came again. The doorbell rang a second later, and again. Whomever it was clearly had no intention of leaving.
“Wait here?” I whispered. Jen nodded.
I crept toward the door, anxious to get a view of our unexpected guest before I came into view. To my astonishment, I heard a clicking at the doorknob. A moment later, the lock clicked open, and the door swung wide.
“Jen?”
I was simultaneously relieved and infuriated. “Hello, Carl.”
I walked up and yanked him inside, shoving the door closed. His face twisted into an expression I couldn’t describe. There were too many emotions scattered across it to name them all.
“You son of a bitch,” he growled.
“Huh?”
“Don’t you ever play dumb again. This is about Blake.”
Did Carl know? How could he possibly have found out? There was only one possible, logical conclusion.
Jen, what did you do?
I went for diplomatic. “Carl, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Sorry? ” Carl’s voice rose in pitch. “Oh, that’s great. Matt’s sorry he sent a friend to his fucking grave. ”
Like a curtain falling from the stage, a veil lifted away. Carl knew. I was exposed before him. The secret was out, and he was in front of me, with fury in his heart and vengeance filling his eyes like twin bonfires.
“Blake and I made a decision. We did what needed to be done.” My own voice rose in volume, as if drowning out Carl would somehow make it right. As if I could simply overwhelm all the guilt and depression I felt in my core.
“If I hear one more crap excuse out of your mouth, you’ll be eating the floor, asshole.”
Carl’s stance changed. I saw it plain as day. While he might still have the mental ability and long study of a dozen fighting techniques, his body just wasn’t trained or focused enough to keep up. Anything he did was wildly telegraphed.
His weight shifted. A punch, coming in low. I dodged aside easily, and he swung wide. Carl managed to keep his balance though. He’d never intended for that one to land. Another fist, already on its way from the opposite side.
His punch landed. I rolled with it, letting momentum absorb the blow, refusing to let him make an impact.
“Calm down,” I shouted, but Carl’s expression only got sharper. His determination was set in deep. He swung again, and I dodged aside. I might have thrown a return punch by then, but neither of us got another chance.
A sharp thwok of an arrow. The shaft sprouted out of the staircase bannister, right between the two of us, at eye level.
We froze.
As one, our heads rotated to face Jen. She stood across the hall, with another arrow already nocked on the string. Ready to pull back and launch at a moment’s notice.
“Are you two done being idiots yet?” she asked, quite calm.
I nodded, taking a step back.
Carl was breathing heavily. His eyes narrowed.
“Carl, vei torl I will put this arrow through your skull.
Ovol nos. ”
Slowly, reluctantly, Carl retreated. He leaned against the doorframe, while I waited by the stairs.
“We can’t fight,” Jen stated.
“No,” I agreed.
“But—” started Carl.
“But nothing,” Jen snapped. “Arrow. Skull.”
Carl fell silent.
“Good,” said Jen, still remarkably calm. “Matt?”
“Carl, we have to stick together right now,” I said. By Carl’s reaction, I’d chosen my words poorly.
“Stick together?” His voice began to rise once again. “That’s rich, you fucking hypocrite.”
“Calm down,” I started, even though I knew it to be futile.
“ Se develd! ” Jen hissed.
We all fell silent instantly. Carl and I both knew what those words meant—but even on top of that, the sudden intensity in Jen’s voice sent my mind reeling in fear, back to memories of ambushes in the deep forest.
“Someone’s at the door,” she whispered, barely louder than a breath.
I turned. It took an eternity just to rotate myself to face the dark brown door. The entire world faded away as my eyes focused on the golden door knob. I hoped that Jen was actually wrong, for the first time ever, about the presence of a threat nearby.
Fate wouldn’t have that. Fate and I were mortal enemies, from now until the end of time.
Knuckles rapped on the door three times—and in that moment, I knew our lives on Earth were about to be shattered completely.
Chapter 12 — Jen
“They’d damn well better be home this time.”
“We saw the truck heading this way. They’ll be here.”
“This lawn is really shit. Doesn’t anyone mow their lawn anymore?”
“Pay attention. We’re about to question a suspect.”
“If I ring this bell and no one answers, you’rebuyin’ lunch.”
“Wait. Do you hear something?”
…