Blindsighted Wanderer

by E. Hibbs

  And as the dance carried on, twirling and flourishing and sending streams of white magic through the air, Merrin noticed that Raphael was singing along under his breath.

  “Sweet loved-one, think on me,

  I have loved thee long.”

  To Silas, any sight since being relieved of the Brand was as cherished as a bellyful of meat after a cold day working in winter. But what he laid his eyes on when he looked over the Lake was too phenomenal for him to even think about, let alone speak of. He was lost in the moment; it picked him up and spun him wildly like a leaf on a breeze, completely filling him to the brim with wonder.

  He knelt down beside Irima – his hand still in hers. As the two of them watched the acrobatic movements of the Asræ, their cheeks brushed against each other’s.

  Dylana suddenly whispered in Merrin’s ear. Raphael caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, and ceased his singing. He watched as Merrin glanced up towards the full moon overhead. She swallowed; then nodded once.

  Raphael frowned, tearing his eyes from the dancers to look at her. She met his eyes, and smiled. It was well-meant, but seemed tightly stretched across her face – and he realised what was going to happen immediately.

  Merrin anxiously ran her fingers over the Bands as Dylana raised a hand. The movement caught the attention of Lachlan, Penro, and another Asræ standing on Coronation Mount that Raphael hadn’t noticed before. Penro nodded and joined the third figure on the island. Gradually, the song died down – and if it were possible for the light to intensify, then it did as the dancers slowed to a halt. Excited mutterings ran through the crowd, rising like the lapping of waves on the banks. The mass of sleek bodies parted, to form a wide pathway. Dylana walked down it, the water sparkling beneath her feet, and took her place at Penro’s side.

  “Asræ!” Lachlan shouted loudly. “Bid you greet Her Royal Highness!”

  Raphael’s chest tightened with anxiety on Merrin’s behalf as she moved to the edge of the Lake, the aisle opening up before her. She stood composed and calm, her fin flickering softly.

  If it hadn’t been rehearsed so many times before her stranding, Merrin would have leapt in fright at Lachlan’s command, but her heart fluttered as she watched the throng turn to face her. They bowed. The movement was like that of one giant creature, and it sent chills through her. In her youth, she might have done something stupid, so she wouldn’t be the centre of attention. But this time, she forced herself to hold her head up high.

  On cue, she made her way forward. The Surface was cool and comforting under her feet, shining with every step towards Coronation Mount. At her sides, faces as familiar as her own looked on, as she slowly traced her path across the water. Carpeted with the blossoms of amarant, the island seemed more sacred and honourable than ever.

  Beneath the shade of the huge willow sitting atop it, trailing its long green arms in the water, Dramil waited. Penro and Dylana had moved to either side of him. Great smiles beamed from their faces; and despite the sparkles of age, their eyes shone as though embodying the stars.

  Merrin’s feet met the gentle stone slope of the Mount for the first time in two hundred years. Water dripped from her as she came to stand before the three cherished faces. They all bowed low, and her fin waved down the length of her back. She tensed, all too aware of the great crowd behind her – and hoped that the movement came across as honoured rather than nervous. But more than anything, she was aware of the humans. Of Raphael.

  There was silence that seemed to last a lifetime, before Lachlan let out a sudden bark. “Asræ! Be seated for the Coronation of Her Royal Majesty!”

  Merrin heard a shuffling as the crowd obeyed. The Guards remained standing for etiquette of the ceremony, all still encircling the Mount duly. Merrin imagined it: a sea of shimmering skin and flickering fins, and large expectant eyes shining in the moonlight overhead. Dramil spread his arms wide.

  “People of the Kingdom of Zandor,” he said loudly, “here I present to you Her Royal Highness: Merrin, daughter of Zephyr, Lady of Lacudomus, Duchess of Delamere, and Crowned Princess. If you accept her as your reigning Monarch and Queen, from this night forward until the end of her nights, then speak now.”

  All together, the Asræ replied with the required, “Etiam!” Yes.

  Merrin breathed an inward sigh of relief. Although it was mandatory to say that as part of the Ceremony – and on both previous Coronations, there had been no objections – individuals still retained the right to refuse an upcoming Monarch if they chose.

  Dramil nodded once. “Following your acclamation, I shall proceed.”

  Merrin glanced up as he turned to her.

  “Your Highness, please kneel,” he said. She did – and he, Penro, and even the bent figure of Dylana, seemed to tower above.

  “Do you come here of your own free will and wanting, to stand in the place of His Imperial Majesty, King Zephyr?” Dramil asked.

  Merrin swallowed. This was what she had been dreading: officially stating she was taking up her father’s mantle. It brought it all home once again that he was no longer with her. She forced her voice not to shake as she answered.

  “This I do, with love and loyalty to my predecessor, and to all of the Citizens of our Kingdom.”

  “Do you solemnly swear and promise to take up the title of Queen of the Kingdom, to sit upon the throne, and to wear the Bands of the Monarchy around your wrists?”

  “This I do, with love and loyalty.”

  “Do you solemnly swear and promise to rule justly and fairly, without discriminations or unfounded judgements, and to impose a caring will upon all who have acclaimed to follow you as their Queen?”

  Merrin closed her eyes, watching Adrian’s face morph into Silas’, and then Raphael’s. “This I do, with love and loyalty.”

  “Then face the Citizens of the Kingdom of Zandor.”

  She got to her feet – carefully, so she wouldn’t stumble – and turned as gracefully as she could. The expectant faces spread out before her. In her nervousness, she could see every one of them individually: all eyes fixed on her, and sparkling with wonderment and anticipation. She let out a shaking breath, disguising it by keeping her lips very close together.

  Dramil’s hands brushed her as he placed a fresh circlet of amarant and woven willow from the tree onto her head. The Asræ had no need for crown jewels or anything solid as such. The garland was a temporary ornament that would be discarded once the Rise was over.

  Dylana raised her hands, and a circle of white light welled up around the entire island. It rose from the Lake, twisting and writhing above Merrin. It knotted itself down smaller and smaller, then eventually lowered down on top of the circlet. That was the true crowning: the granting of Her voice.

  All the time, Merrin stood as still and noble as possible. She forced herself to convey and project all she was becoming in the moment. She could almost feel her eyes taking on a new shine, separate from the ones of her centuries: one she had never had any need for previously, but which she knew would stay with her forever. This was a pocket in time, which would now always be hers.

  “Asræ of the Kingdom of Zandor, and Citizens of Merrin,” Dramil said, “in the name of the moon above us, and the great Lake below us, and with honour to all of our forefathers and Regal Ancestors Zephyr and Zandor, I do now hereby present unto you Her Royal Majesty: Queen Merrin the First, Lady of Lacudomus, Duchess of Delamere, and Monarch of the Kingdom of Zandor.”

  “Asræ!” Lachlan shouted. “Rise to your feet, and bow to Her Royal Majesty! Long live the Queen!”

  “Long live the Queen!”

  A chorus of voices rose up into the air, and like a spreading ripple, the Asræ stood, immediately lowering their heads to her. Penro, Dylana and Dramil followed suit, and so did the Guards, until Merrin was the only one remaining upright. She stood there; the Bands on her wrists, the circlet on her head, and her destiny set down solid and sure.

  In the crowd, she saw her Uncle Lorelan, and Lai
les and Anula. Anula shot her a wink before bending her neck down and away. Then Merrin noticed that Raphael, Silas, and Irima were all bowing too, and the sight wrenched at her heart.

  “Thank you,” Merrin said; her eyes alight. “Thank you all so very much. I shall do all in my power to ensure I will be the best Queen I can be.”

  The Asræ cheered: a sound that sent a shiver through Raphael. Then Merrin swallowed, lowering her eyes for a moment before passing them fleetingly over him.

  “The Rise is almost at its pinnacle,” she announced, glancing at the sky. The moon had risen high; it was almost midnight. “I am aware of this. But I ask you to hear me now. It is customary – as we all know – that following a Coronation, the new Monarch must lead the ageing. But my heart and obligation do now lead me to break with this tradition.”

  Merrin paused for a moment. From the way she had spoken, Raphael had almost assumed her statement would be met with some degree of uproar. But the Asræ were not human. They remained respectfully silent, listening to their Queen, and seemed genuinely intrigued at what would cause her to do such a thing.

  “It is no secret that it is my fault that the humans built the Wall,” she continued. “It is also no secret as to why. I would like to take this moment to tell you now that I have forgiven. And – as proof of this, in the name of a promise, and for my own peace – tonight, the descendants of Adrian Atégo stand on the earth of Delamere. They are the first humans to have ever witnessed an Asræ Rise. Very soon, they shall leave the Valley forever. But before that, I shall lift the curse that I laid down upon their line two centuries ago.”

  At that, there was reaction from the crowd: what sounded like elated and relieved mutterings – but they subsided almost as quickly as they had sprung up. Many heads turned to look at Raphael, Silas and Irima – and Silas cleared his throat uncomfortably. But Raphael’s eyes were trained on Merrin, as hers were on his.

  “That way, I should hope,” she added in a quieter voice, “when you return across the Wall for the final time, you may have the power and authority to right the wrong, wherever your wanderings may take you.”

  Raphael licked his lips. Silas’ hand appeared on his shoulder, and Raphael glanced down at him. Silas let out a small grin; then gently prized Irima’s fingers from his. She nodded, and stepped away.

  Merrin waited, and then she raised her arms. All eyes turned to the Queen. A breeze swept back her hair and gown in rippling folds, as her hands glowed a brilliant white. The wind beat rhythmically, and Merrin softly closed her eyes. The patterns running over her skin began to shine; the light spread over her whole body, until she was invisible in its sighing power.

  The air whispered of its own accord, and Raphael suddenly realised what she had meant, by having to wait until when she would be strongest. Removing something so potent that had gripped for two hundred years was tremendous. He could feel it in everything around him, and knew immediately that whatever power it had taken her to do away with Silas’ Brand was nothing in comparison.

  The light spread from Merrin, sweeping across the shining Surface like ink, and coursed through Raphael and Silas. Raphael gasped as it swathed him, and he threw out his hand, grasping his brother’s tightly. He vaguely heard Irima cry something, but whatever it had been was instantly lost in the wall of magic.

  Encased, the two brothers clung to each other, and through the glowing air, Silas found Raphael’s eyes. He felt his feet leave the ground, and the two of them rose weightlessly, as though being borne aloft by angels. Like a phantom feeling, Silas’ left palm tingled.

  He blinked – and recoiled in shock when he opened his eyes.

  Julian was hovering in front of him. There was a broad smile on his face, and he looked the healthiest that Silas had ever seen. Behind him where countless other figures: most of them in darkness, but all looking down upon him and grinning. In the centre of them all, there was a single silhouette of a young man – and although his features were obscured, Silas knew that he couldn’t have been much older than Raphael.

  As he watched, a shadowy horse emerged out of the misty glow, and the figure climbed effortlessly up onto its back. He turned it about – light flashing on his red hair – then turned and disappeared, followed by the other men in single file. When Julian was the final face remaining, he reached out both his hands towards his sons. Silas felt fingers slide over his cheek like the touch of the faintest raindrop, before his father joined all of the others, and headed silently into the nothing.

  Then Silas felt the ground under his knees as he was set down softly on the amarants, still clutching Raphael’s hand.

  CHAPTER XXXII

  The Ageing of the Asræ

  W hen Raphael opened his eyes, he was lying on his back. He blinked a few times, and then sat up, looking around in bewilderment.

  Irima was bent over Silas and checking him, because he hadn’t moved. Raphael quickly turned to him, feeling his chest tightening in concern. But then Silas frowned and raised a hand to his head, tracing the kerchief with his fingers. He pressed at it – tentatively at first but then firmer – and gently pulled it away. Irima started, going to stop him, but Silas glanced at her and she drew back.

  Raphael stared. “It is gone!” he gasped. “The cut! It’s gone!”

  Silas didn’t reply, and just carried on exploring his forehead carefully.

  Raphael looked around towards the Lake. All of the Asræ were standing in their direction, smiling so widely that their faces seemed aglow from the inside. Some were muttering amongst themselves, voices chiming like bells, and swelling with sounds of happiness and relief and pride. Merrin was coming closer, her breathing slightly ragged, but her lips spreading into a grin.

  When she reached the bank, she remained on the Surface, and beamed at him. Raphael scrambled to his feet, holding out his hand to help Silas, and gazed into her eyes. They were shining, like always – but they were now the softest he had ever seen; softer than he had ever believed they could be.

  “You... you healed him?” he stammered.

  Merrin nodded. “Of course. I would have done so when I removed his Brand, but I was not yet strong enough.”

  Raphael faltered, and then realised he was gibbering. He quickly cleared his throat and turned back to Silas, who had fully recovered. Irima had let go of him, but she was standing close by, her eyes flitting between him and Merrin.

  Merrin turned her attention on Silas, and he inclined his head with a smile. It was only a small one, but Raphael knew that it was his brother’s equivalent of what he himself did next: threw his arms around Merrin.

  There was a subdued gasp from the crowd, and a few light-hearted chuckles, but nothing in malevolence. Merrin hesitated for a moment; then she returned the embrace, and Raphael watched her fin wave gently down her back.

  “Thank you,” he finally managed to choke out. “Thank you so much.”

  Silas came up beside them. “The curse is lifted?” he asked tightly.

  “Yes,” replied Merrin, and she pulled herself away from Raphael. However, she kept one hand on his shoulder.

  “From all of us?”

  “All of you, and all of your sons to come.”

  Raphael’s throat choked with overjoyed sobs. He shook his head softly, mouth hanging open. Merrin glanced at him and smiled deviously, but there was a hint of sadness in her sparkling eyes.

  “And now we must bid farewell, my dear Raphael,” she said, her voice quiet. She looked back to his brother. “Silas, I am sorry our dealings were so harsh, but I must thank you equally in part for them.”

  Raphael frowned and glanced at Silas. “We must leave now?” he blurted.

  Merrin nodded. “I am afraid you must. Although you are the first humans to ever witness an event such as this, I cannot allow you to view the object of the Rise: the ageing. Magic is as fickle as it is powerful, and I fear the consequences if you were exposed to the most potent of Asræ needs of it. Besides, it is one tradition that I dare not break
, and I am also anxious that you may escape in good time. I should imagine that under cover of darkness would be the safest for you.”

  At her words, Raphael felt the icy memories of what Silas had described creeping back over him, and he cast his eyes down with a shudder. In his mind, he imagined the family’s terror, and the horrid way they had been cast out by their own people. He chewed his lips restlessly. Merrin sighed, and slipped her fingers under his chin to make him look at her.

  “Do not fret,” she whispered. “And do not fear. You shall be safe.”

  “How do yer know this?” Irima suddenly asked, finding her voice. Raphael glanced at her as Merrin replied.

  “I do not. But hear this: until mere nights ago, where these two brothers stand now was the most dangerous place they could have ever sought. Before them is the worst enemy, and that enemy is now gone – along with the traitor that she destroyed two hundred years ago. They shall meet nothing worse than I. And I should hope that you of all people, Pearl Spring, know that as one world ends, another shall always be born.”

  At Merrin’s words, Irima’s eyes deepened with recognition and knowledge. Merrin smiled at her, sure in her faith, and then glanced at the moon. It was almost at its height. She opened her hand and revealed the white rose. The thin, velvety petals were soft beneath her fingers, and alight with their own iridescence as the light of her flesh ran beneath them.

  Raphael frowned. “I do not recall thee holding that when you left the shore,” he stated, voice rising as though questioning, but Merrin simply shook her head.

  “It does not matter,” she said, and pressed it into his palm. “Now go. Leave this place. Take with you the lessons you have learned – and this, as a taste of the old home – and plant a seed in a new place.”

  Raphael licked his lips hesitantly, but took the rose with a grin. Merrin sighed as she looked at him. It was one of his wonderful, deep smiles, which could bring spring after the harshest winter.