by K. A. Lentz
Kaiyssa placed her hand over his heart and began to reassure her mate, “My love, you cannot do this now, not now. I have spoken with him. He is different. I ask that you do me the honor of listening to him for a short time. Hear what he has to say.”
Syheran sat at the foot of the bed, looking down its length as he affirmed in an instructive tone, “You know why you were stopped Tahlan, and why you remain restrained. You have lived too long under a deep shadow of anger and pain; it has corrupted your mind and infected your soul. Now is the time for change my dear friend. There is something you must know Tahlan, and you will hear me out before you are released. He is a familiar, and she, Thistle, is the Witch of Compassion. They are now formally bonded, the ceremony we preformed immediately before your arrival. He is unlike any other reaper slave and I promise he will never be the same after today. Miach is a guardian Tah, not a mindless killer. His soul is pure and his heart is true. The couple has been here for some time now and I’ve spoken much with him; he’s even aiding us by divulging information regarding our enemy.”
“How do you know he is not just… playing?!” Tahlan thundered, his cheek glowing with an ominous dark energy. Although unable to touch it, he could feel the poisonous magic pulsing through his skin and immediately tried to calm the storm raging within. Kaiyssa’s warning from months before rang like a clanging bell within his sobered mind; soldiers lost in three months’ time. For her sake, and his, the cursed forest-lord grounded his mind while pleading for tranquility.
“Pyhe and Old Grandma have given their consent to this. They are the ones whom orchestrated their bonding… and I’m guessing your journey here as well.” Syheran didn’t give Tahlan time to answer; he resolutely continued over his friend’s budding argument, “Pyhe and Old Grandma were the ones to bond them, not to mention Friend bestowed an elemental blessing upon the couple. This is beyond you, Tah. Try to see the truth of it all. Your brother’s body is serving a greater cause. There is family honor to be found in times such as these. Tahlen would have wanted to be a part of what his body now accomplishes. He will be reclaimed upon the ending of Lesdaeonna, which you should give Miach the chance to do. Time will tell… however as we wait fate has asked us to lend our aid to this one, lofty chance. Pyhe has faith in him, as do I, and it would seem… your mate does as well. Can you have faith enough in all of us to give him the chance we ask?”
Tahlan said not a word; he simply stared impassively at his friend. There remained a core of reserved anger stubbornly simmering at the root of his soul, yet the forest-lord’s demeanor had changed. He lifted his emotionless eyes from Syheran and rested them on his mate. She visibly sagged under the weight of his gaze, immediately apologizing for singing him into submission and for keeping him captive still. He countered her fears with a caressing image illustrating that she had done nothing wrong. A tear of relief slipped down her cheek as she kissed his. Looking at Syheran, Tahlan’s tone remained unreadable, “So many ask for his pardon… and so it would seem unwise to ignore the council of those I trust. Is he still within the village?”
With an eager and hopeful voice, Kaiyssa quickly answered, “Yes he is, my love, and waiting to speak with you, well us really. As was his request.” With barely contained excitement she added, “His witch is also waiting!”
Tahlan smiled up at his mate. She was always curious to meet different species as well as the many classes of guardians she had learned of as an elfling. Watching her happy emotions at play cast a magical light so powerful that it forced the remainder of his anger to slink into the slim shadows of his soul. Caressing Kaiyssa with his loving eyes, Tahlan contentedly agreed, “Alright, I will speak with him—and his mate—if he wishes.”
Taking his friend’s cue Syheran disappeared outside to find Miach dressed and returned to elvish form, an awkward silence hanging in the air. Striding up to the couple, he confidently put his hand on Miach’s shoulder and said with an assuring smile, “It’s time Miach. He seems calm and in control. Please my friends come inside.”
Tahlan hardened a little to Miach’s entrance, yet appeared to retain his calm. Each within the hut’s crowd of occupants silently stood waiting for their cue on how to proceed. The uncertain storm-slave took the initiative and was first to speak. A nervous, almost child-like tone escaped as he began, “Tahlan, it is good to finally meet you… without the urge to run. I’ve long wanted to speak with you on many things, however there’s been no time in the past to declare my intent… given the circumstances. If you’ll allow me, I’d like to speak on them now.”
Tahlan’s eyes never faltered from Miach’s. The stubborn wood-elf looked at his mate, and then back to the image of himself. Acceptance rung in his voice as he warned, “Thanks to Kaiyssa’s efforts, I freely give my word to listen yet make no promises on how my temper will hold when you have finished your tale. However, I sense, after this encounter… I will likely chase you… no more.”
With a sincere smile, Miach responded, “Thank you kind Sir. May I introduce my wife Thistle, the Witch of Compassion.”
Thistle, unexpectedly thrust into the spotlight, flushed red before recovering with a nervous hello. Tahlan turned his gaze on the poor woman hiding near the door, and said with a smile, “It is lovely to meet you madam. I wish your house well and congratulations on your bonding.” Looking back at his mate, “Kaiyssa my love, may I control myself once more? Have no fear, I shall honor my promise.”
Kaiyssa decided to acquiesce. She closed her eyes and whispered the final three notes of her gentle song, touching his heart at the melody’s end. He immediately sat up and turned to her with a mischievous look blazing in his eyes. Without warning he scooped up his mate and said with a laugh, “I shall find a way to get recompense later for your actions.”
For a moment they touched noses before Tahlan stood tall from the bed, letting Kaiyssa’s toes slip to the floor at his side. Looking at Miach with a hard, yet curious expression, the forest-lord declared in a mildly intoxicated air, “Something strange about this place. I feel… tipsy. Miach… it hurts to say your name to my brother’s body.” Tahlan seemed to ponder something for a moment before continuing on with child-like worry in his voice, “He isn’t trapped in there is he?”
Miach’s expression turned to what could only be read as shame, yet he quickly composed himself to reply, “Sir, your brother is not here with me, nor has he been since I arrived, but… I have his last, happy memory… present in my mind since waking.”
Tahlan’s eyes began to redden as Kaiyssa turned her face into his shoulder. Feeling guilty over their pain, Miach spoke with sincerity, “I do apologize for any pain my words have caused. I’ve carried this memory for many years, oft times a remembrance happier than my own, and I have wanted to ask you about it from the beginning, but…”
Tahlan swallowed his heartache as he said through a haze of memories, “No, it is good you carry this, and also that you find it comforting. I still feel my brother’s loss and a measure of betrayal toward you, but there is something pushing it back… allowing me to see things I never wanted to see before, let alone cared to learn. What is this memory you have, please it would do me good to hear it.”
Miach was temporarily in shock over a moment he thought would never come. Gathering up his wits, the oddly shy storm-slave began with wonder, “I am standing in a star filled glade with a stone gazebo cutting decoratively through the sky-scape above; the City of Trees is aglow before me. Alone I watch you and Kaiyssa stroll down an iris lined path toward a breath-taking spider willow at the far end. You’re resplendently dressed, arm in arm, with broad smiles and hearty laughs. Laughing, I run to greet you and embrace each with wholehearted congratulations. Kaiyssa, you look like a queen. Your dress appears to be the weight of a caravan’s burden, yet still you glide as though it were the lightest gown ever created. Tahlan is wearing something I understand to be ornamental armor belonging to your family, shining with the aura of ancients.”
“Each arm we take and
escort Kaiyssa back to a large gathering of elves in the finest of festival garb. The king that sits the throne now is but a prince, standing beside his father as he toasts an elite guard for their exemplary actions in a newly won battle. There’s a party of elves—scattered among the rest—holding their hands high, us included; after which commences an entire night of drinking, dancing, and bridal games. Around dawn, we return to the tree of our family and retire for the night. There was something… you and your brother had to speak on, but I feel you didn’t get the chance. Did you ever?”
Tahlan just stared at Miach, remaining silent. Kaiyssa’s face was streaked with freshly fallen tears, yet it was she who felt composed enough to answer his question, “Yes, it was of his mate-to-be. They had recently found each other, however he was bound to a quest of the people, and so the couple planned on binding when he returned in four years. Two years later he was taken, and yet another passed before we learned of his death.”
Tahlan came to the rapid conclusion Miach might also carry the memory of Tahlen’s death. As the question came to fruition within his mind the words abruptly slipped out, “Do you have the memory of his death? Or at least what led to it?”
The reluctant storm-slave wore a stricken expression, having hoped to avoid such a question. Thistle’s eyes bounced from one to the next inwardly wishing to ease their pain, but she could do no more than silently watch along the sidelines. As her gaze came to rest once again upon Miach, she was unexpectedly racked with a sudden and violent picture of Tahlen’s death. Cutting through the pain, Miach began answering Tahlan’s dreaded question, “Yes, I do have the memory of your brother’s death. It is as real as my own. I caution you… the telling will hurt and enrage you. I’ll refrain for now if you’re unprepared to hear such things.”
Tahlan nodded in thanks and replied with a clear current of stubbornness, “I am ready, tell me what you know. It will only pain me more to wait… please.”
The hesitant familiar glanced around the room before beginning his recount in a somber tone, “It would seem your brother was betrayed by someone close to him, but I’m not sure by whom. He found his way into the minion barracks of my master’s south-holdings. She was waiting for him there, even greeting him as though he’d been a long-awaited guest. Your brother knew the peril he had landed in and tried to craft a hasty escape, but she was ready beyond the measure of his comprehension. She toyed with the limits of his body for a few hours, yet eventually got bored and went in for the kill. Using her elemental guardians of air, my master instructed them to extinguish the spirit within but refrain from marring the shell in any way.”
Miach refused to go into more detail than that. Unless heartily prompted to do so, he would not divulge the gruesome demise of his once enemy’s twin-brother. Tahlan stood unreadable as he processed what had been said. Betrayed by someone close, who? Had the culprit been Ceanntis… posing as someone near to them as she had recently done with Nasshta? Kaiyssa listened in as Tahlan’s thoughts skimmed the surface of his mind and bobbed around for a while. An elemental guardian of air, what kind of minion was that? I’m certain none have heard of such horrors before. His last thought peeked Kaiyssa’s curiosity enough to ask Miach directly, “What are these elemental guardians? We’ve never heard of such a class of minion.”
Miach was happy for the turn in topic, “They’re a castle guard created through the element each reaper chooses to hold them in existence. Air, the binding force of my master, is unique in its use of the other elements; I do believe it’s why she chose it. She has risen three guardians to patrol her castle day and night; one harnesses the use of fire, another controls water, and the most powerful is comprised of pure air, only visible when it allows itself to be seen. This last of which is her deadliest… it can spawn small versions of itself and is powered by a very malicious spirit within. My master continuously maintains an atmosphere amiable to their existence within her castle. All reapers keep such guardians. Few know of their existence because those who look upon them are under reaper control and for those that aren’t… well, they never make it out alive.”
Tahlan was the next to speak, in a mournful whisper he asked, “So he was suffocated in one way or another? Which dealt the final blow?”
Miach took a second to think on his answer, but when he finally responded, the reply came out directly, “Yes he was. Tempest is the name of her dominate guardian, it’s a blood-thirsty spirit that will always claim the kill. Squall and Ash are the other two following its lead.”
His face blank and emotionless, Tahlan whispered, “He always did fear drowning…”
Desperately needing a break from the hut’s crowded and confining space, Tahlan ducked out the door—Kaiyssa in tow—as his statement fell around the hushed room. Syheran pat Miach on the shoulder with a reassuring smile and followed the couple through the wide portal to talk with Kaiyssa. Silently staring at the wall with unflinching focus, the tumultuous storm-slave was inwardly consumed by Tahlen’s death. Each instance he had been forced to remember this painful memory Miach felt as if he were reliving the heinous murder anew. For reasons unknown to him, the remembrance was imprinted on his host’s body like none other. Thistle stood beside her mate listening to the whispers of thoughts bombarding her from all sides. Nudging him a little, she quietly took hold of his hand and led her forlorn familiar from the hut.
Seeking a peaceful spot, Thistle lazily guided the pair through the forest toward her favorite site the town had to offer; the magnificent crystal-bridge. Japake’s nearly deserted festival square came into view. Syheran and Kaiyssa were animatedly talking while Tahlan silently stood beside his mate. Dominus and Aginaeus lounged atop the steps, not yet making their presence known, as they casually listened in from above. It was in this moment that the unthinkable happened. None were prepared for the image of Tahlan’s missing cousin to suddenly materialize at the center of Japake’s patio. With a playful step and a whimsical smile Ifrah danced, solidifying into view, as she slowly made her way to stand at the base of her cousin. Astonished at her unexpected appearance, Tahlan bent toward the little elfling but was stopped short by her eerie proclamation, “In trouble you will be, my master knows what you have done… she is coming for you…”
Tahlan recoiled as Ifrah’s eyes drew wide and her tiny mouth opened as far as it could possibly go. Again he was about to speak when a scream no child could utter burst like an alarm from the depths of her little throat. All standing in the square were quick to cover their ears, but then—in the blink of an eye—the young elfling disappeared as though abruptly interrupted. Reality breaking and shattering before them, the pieces awkwardly collected themselves into piles and columns until someone began to crawl through the wreckage into view.
Each onlooker was treated to a bare glimpse of Zombie’s true, ethereal form before he rapidly transformed into a series of nightmarish avatars. Once a long and ancient thread of existence, the cunning reaper wove malevolent magic through the minds of his audience as he physically melted from one childhood boogieman to the next. Pulling in a raking breath, the malicious reaper began speaking in a smooth and refined voice to address an unseen observer, “My slave informs me of an oversight, Kishtlata Lesdaeonna… it would appear your slave is far from under control.” He paused a moment to frantically claw at the flesh hanging from his ghoulish head before continuing on with the same, silken voice, “You tampered with old magic in his creation… a benefit to me now I see. No longer can you control your minion and so now I claim your slave of storms, and his mate the Witch of Compassion, as my own. Zelrahk, go now on the hunt; bring back my prize, this insubordination will not be tolerated by any of my slaves.”
Turning away from his unseen crowd to address the gathering in Japake’s square, Zombie looked Syheran in the eye and exclaimed, “Aha, Syheran! There you are… no matter. Pitiful and infuriating beings… you have forgotten my previous warning, so it is time to issue a fresh reminder. For your special crime, a singular sport I fancy. Th
e rules of my game are simple; I will give you a head start before my vengeance descends upon you all! Run, flee, it matters not, for I now come for thee!”
The next sound to ring within the minds of Zombie’s captive audience was a frustrated feminine scream seemingly trumpeting the elder reaper’s departure. Syheran was about to speak when another uninvited guest imported her image for all to witness. Miach suddenly felt the ground beckoning him to kneel and roared in response. All turned to stare across the river as the helpless storm-slave was forced hard upon bent knee, head bowed, toward his solidifying master. Tahlan stared in horror at his brother’s visage and, for the first time since the loss of his twin, pained for the man trapped within. Reality once again began to twist and bulge as it allowed Lesdaeonna to see and be seen across the realm. Glancing around, her blood-red eyes came to rest upon Tahlan. She maliciously smiled, her expression dripping with evil intent as she hissed, “You are a crafty one, but I shall see you killed all the same.” Her image flipped in an instant to face Miach. “You! You… are… constantly disobeying ME! I tasked you with a simple mission… bring the human to me… and you FAILED!! Now you have brought down the wrath of Zombie. Return to my castle before he finds you… or learn what a better master am I…”