by TP Keane
*
The Awakening Ceremony was more beautiful than Aria could have imagined. The hollowed, old-man tree had been decorated with flowers Aria had not seen for many months. Fireflies drawn to the elves, twinkled around their heads, like stars in the night. They wore circlets of reeds, ivy, and moss, and each elf was dressed in white robes to mark the purity of spring. It was a time when plants and creatures were too young to bear the weight of sin, and was the elves most cherished season. Only Ol?rin, in his purple robes, Aramus, in his brown leather, and Aria, in her blue dress, sullied the sea of white and silver.
The large pedestal where the Elders had once stood, was now covered with all the culinary delights that the forest could offer, save for anything that had once breathed. But Aria didn't feel much like partaking in the celebration, despite her marvellous surroundings. While haunting music played and elves danced in flowing movements, Aria's mind rehashed what she had learned about her brother.
Prophecies were dangerous things. They so often led to misinterpretation, or only served to paint a target on one's back, as they had done to Aramus. It was a cloud she did not want hanging over Pearan's head. Although Aria hoped to see her brother take the throne and succeed her one day, she couldn't help but worry about how this would come to be. Ol?rin's words discomforted her. 'Should we succeed then I hope that Thalia and Pearan's path might be very different,' he had said. This told her two things. The first, that Aramus's prophecy was linked to Pearan's, and secondly, that if she should fail, Pearan will have to take the throne. Which means she would either be jailed for her crimes, or dead. 'He's too young,' Aria thought, absentmindedly examining the hilt of her golden sword as she sat on a large log. 'If for no other reason than for his wellbeing, I have to make sure that this prophecy about Aramus is stopped.'
Something else bothered her too. When Aramus had asked if she truly loved her brother, there was a hint of something that she couldn't quite put her finger on. There was a certain excited thrill in her stomach that she was sure did not come from her. But the more she thought on it, the less she could find a reason for the strange feeling. After all, what was so important about the fact that she loved her brother?
"I hope you intend to spend more time with your hosts than with your sword," Ol?rin said, sitting down beside her.
Ol?rin took off his hat and rummaged around inside for a while, before producing a tankard filled with ale. Keeping the drink hidden within his hat, and looking sheepishly around him, he took a long sip before offering some to Aria. She shook her head and continued to examine the hilt of the sword she knew only too well.
"Am I going to die?" she asked him quietly.
"We are all eventually going to die," Ol?rin replied, hiding the ale in his hat once again and plopping it back on his head. "I am two hundred and ninety-eight, but if you had asked me in my youth how long I thought I would live, I might have said sixty. There have been many prophecies told about the wizards, and about my death, that would curl the hairs on your chest. But yet here I am. And if I were to have spent my life worrying about what might be, well then, I wouldn't have lived at all. However much time we are given in this world, it is important to spend it wisely and not allow our fears, our hatred, or our prejudices, to stop us from enjoying what we have been given. That is the true measure of living."
Ol?rin placed a gentle hand on Aria's shoulder and she didn't shrug him off. He was right, and she knew it. Although Edwel had all but told her the very same thing, she had been too angry and impatient to hear it at the time. This thought only raised another question.
"Can I ask you something?" Aria said, looking Ol?rin in his eyes. "If wizards can't kill, how then did you kill Edwel?"
"Ah, I am not in league with Dantet, if that's what you mean to ask me," he replied. "In order to be killed you must first be truly alive. Edwel, although he had a longing to know what it was to live, was nothing more than a conjuring. He was a collection of stones brought together to carry out orders given to him thousands of years ago. He did not fear his own death as all living creatures should, how could he when he was never born? I merely disassembled him, undid the spell that created him in the first place, as I would undo a jinx or a curse."
"He was neither a jinx nor a curse," Aria snapped. "He was the only one to stand by me when no one else would."
"As he was created to do," Ol?rin said softly.
Aria felt a sudden nonsensical wave of happiness and she tugged at the chain around her neck, wanting Aramus to feel her irritation. Glancing over at him, she saw him dancing with Sudia. The two of them moved elegantly in the centre of the hollow as if they had danced together for a lifetime. His handsome smile mirrored her pretty one as they held hands, dipping and twirling in time with the other dancers. His strong arms guided the elf girl and held her closely. Even with his wings, Aria knew he was a handsome man. She furrowed her brow and wondered what made Sudia so special. 'She's just a girl, same as me. Looking like the Goddess Edwina is no excuse for him to be so doe-eyed.'
At that moment Aramus seemed to sense her irritation, and their eyes met. Aria felt a heat rise up in her cheeks, but she couldn't look away - to do so would be to admit something she daren't. He smiled at her over Sudia's shoulder, and Aria felt a giggle want to break free from her mouth. 'What is the matter with you?' She hardly knew, but the more she watched Aramus and Sudia dance, the more she couldn't look away from him.
"Can you believe that he only learned to dance recently, and was taught by a seventy-year-old dwarf too?" Ol?rin said. Aria didn't respond, her eyes followed Aramus as he glided around the elves. "Come, it is time for you and I to dance," Ol?rin said, taking her by the hand.
"No, I don't want to. Wizard, let me go."
The warning tone in her voice did nothing to deter the old wizard. Despite her objections, she found herself amidst the elegant dancers, attempting to salvage some dignity whilst Ol?rin wobbled and twirled with elbows and knees akimbo. They weren't a sophisticated pair, or at least Ol?rin wasn't, and her attempts to contain his flamboyant gambolling was met with a daft smile. It was as if he was trying to embarrass her on purpose, and Aria couldn't walk away no matter how hard she tried. Every time she did, he would frolic around the dancefloor and block her exit.
Without warning, a firm hand grasped Aria around her wrist and twirled her away from the eccentric old man. Aramus pulled her in close to his chest and wrapped his other arm around her waist. Aria, momentarily stymied, swayed gently with the winged man as the music slowed. She rested her free hand on his chest as if to push him away, but her hand refused to obey. So close to his face now, she had no option but to stare into his amber eyes.
"You looked like you needed rescuing," he said with a small smile.
"I?" Aria had lost her words and had no idea where they had gone.
Aramus eyes examined her face and she saw his smile fade. His head bow just a fraction, and he swallowed deeply.
"It's okay if you don't want to dance with me," he said. "I'll understand."
Aria felt a sudden tug at her insides as though a sadness was weighing her down. But she wasn't sad. In fact, she was more nervous than she thought she ought to be.
"No, I want to dance with you," she heard herself say.
A slow smile spread across Aramus's handsome face again and Aria's heart did a flip before coming to a screeching halt. 'Oh Goddess,' she thought in disbelief. 'I have feelings for him. No this can't be right, can it?' The chains around their necks loosened.