by C S Marks
It would be best to leave the City while the image of the mighty, beautiful, benevolent Orrion was still intact. It was time to plant the seed that would move the rest of the plan forward, and then take his leave. Kotos smiled, knowing that the citizens would mourn the departure of Orrion. The illusion was too delicate to last, but he couldn’t resist a bit of self-congratulation. I’ve turned this ugly brute into a beauty—a respectable one at that—and he has fooled them all.
Well…almost all. Kotos wasn’t concerned. Once Orrion had left Dûn Arian, he would never need bother with Gaelen again.
Orrion made his way down to the harbor, to a quiet glade in the nearby forest where Nelwyn was sure to find him.
It was her habit to go to the glade each day as the sun rose high and the light filtering down through the tall canopy was most bright, glimmering green and silver upon a spring of clear water and many stones thick with moss. A great tree, hollow with age but still mighty, served as Nelwyn’s new favorite sanctuary. Sometimes she climbed up the enormous trunk and settled in the tallest branches, savoring the salty tang of the wind blowing across the harbor. Orrion had been observing her for several days, and knew where she could be found. He also knew that she would most likely be alone.
This time, when she arrived, he was already there, apparently bent with weeping, sitting upon one of the stones with his face buried in his arms. He did not appear to notice her.
He knew she would try to comfort him, and she drew nearer, obviously disarmed by the awkwardness of his weeping. In fact, Gorgon’s own lack of experience with genuine emotion added depth to the illusion, and Kotos was pleased. Nelwyn would not be able to resist him.
He lifted his tear-stained face, and then his eyes grew wide. He flushed and turned aside, attempting to wipe away the tears.
“What do you want?” he asked in a shaky voice. “Please, leave me in peace. I came here to be alone.”
“There is no shame in weeping,” said Nelwyn as she drew nigh him. “Yet I sense you have not wept in a long while. Your grief is deep, and you have had no one to comfort you. I owe you a debt of gratitude for the healing of my friend. Will you not allow me to pay it, and bring you aid? I will listen to your pain, and I will tell no one. Let me help you if I can.”
She moved closer, and he showed no objection even when she sat beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Kotos looked into her wide, green eyes and smiled, even as Orrion’s face assumed an expression of profound sadness mingled with confusion.
“I appreciate your concern,” he said. “But I do not think you can comfort me…no one can. My life and my situation are like no other. You cannot understand.”
“Sometimes, understanding is not needed. It is enough only to be heard. Know that you may tell me all of what troubles you, that I will listen, and that I will say nothing of it outside this place.”
“You still do not perceive…I cannot share with another what I do not even understand myself,” said Orrion. “I know I have concealed it, but I have been fearful ever since I arrived here. People keep asking me to explain myself, but I cannot explain what I do not know. So much is missing…a thousand years of my life have been wiped away. I still have moments when I can barely remember my name—can you imagine it? I was once possessed of great wisdom. I knew things known by few others in this world. Now, I’m helpless. I don’t know why I came here, or how, and still some folk do not trust me. Do you know how that makes me feel? I have tried to do good, and yet I am not trusted. But…I don’t even know if I’m trustworthy. I’m just so weary of uncertainty!” He rubbed his eyes with the back of his right hand, as a child does.
“When I heard the Seer’s cry, I ran to the tower. I have but one good hand...I lost the use of the left one long ago, but I thought I could at least break down the door. I tried to save her, but I failed. Now the weight of her death hangs over me, and it has brought back some of my past. I have failed so many times in my life. I could not save the High King, nor his son Iomar, nor the realm of Tal-elathas. I fell with the rest of them. Why am I not dead? How did I come to be here? I know I must leave soon…there is a destiny that is guiding me. To what end?” He began to weep again. “I’m so confused, and so weary,” he said, burying his face in his arms once more.
Nelwyn patted him gently until he calmed. “How did you lose the use of your hand? They say you lost it in battle. You must have been very brave…”
He looked Nelwyn in the eye. “Some things are unforgettable,” he said. “I tried to save the High King, and I failed. The loss of my hand reminds me of it every single day.”
Nelwyn dropped her gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“It’s all right, but I would rather not recount the story, if it’s all the same to you.” Actually, I would prefer not to have to make one up at a moment’s notice, thought Kotos. Orrion drew several deep breaths, as if so weary that he might fall asleep at any moment, and Nelwyn stayed by him. At last he raised his head and looked into her eyes. “You have brought comfort…against all expectations,” he said, his grey eyes full of gratitude. “Will you not remain with me for a while longer? I take comfort just in having someone…someone I need not fear, who cares for me despite uncertainty. Will you not stay?”
“Of course, I will remain for as long as you need me,” said Nelwyn, obviously relieved and happy to have been of comfort.
She looked into his earnest grey eyes.
That’s right, said Kotos. Look deeply, Nelwyn—my eyes are fathomless, the most beautiful eyes you’ve ever seen. Your thoughts…they wander…they stray into the realm of waking dreams.
Nelwyn was not afraid, and Kotos took her easily, for she was willing. He seduced and beguiled her as he had all the others, for she was relatively innocent and her heart was pure. She was not so wary as her cousin Gaelen, who had seen far more ugliness and despair. Kotos planted the seed in Nelwyn’s mind, expending all of his power to ensure that it would take root as intended. Then, before he brought her back to herself, he instructed her.
The vision will not come unto you until I am long gone. The moon will wax and wane twice, and then, upon the rising of the third full moon, you will remember.
When Nelwyn truly came to herself, Orrion was gone. He had left a gift for her, a small figure of ebony, hand carved and polished. It was a crow, or a raven, and it delighted Nelwyn, for it was so cunningly rendered that nearly every feather could be seen and touched. With it there was a small scrap of parchment inscribed in High-elven.
Thou hast brought comfort to one in need.
Now he rewards thy kind heart with a gift.
Take the bird, and remember me,
as I will think of thee whenever I behold
the beauty of flight.
My thanks,
~Orrion
Something told Nelwyn that she must destroy the parchment, and she did so, concealing the beautiful carving among her other possessions. Later, when Nelwyn returned to the City, Gaelen wondered why she would not reveal where she had been all afternoon. Even more than that, Gaelen wondered why her cousin would smell of oranges. The only person she knew of in Dûn Arian who regularly smelled of oranges was Orrion High-elven, but Gaelen trusted her cousin, as did everyone in the Company, and she thought no more of it for the moment.
Gorgon Elfhunter stood alone before the looking-glass in his chamber, glaring once more at the beautiful image of Orrion. Kotos was not with him, having retreated into the amulet to plot and plan and weave his webs. Gorgon was exhausted. Not only was the effort of bearing Kotos physically draining, but the effort of mustering so much false emotion had nearly killed him. What distressed him even more was the fact that some of the emotion had been genuine.
Here was the legendary Elfhunter, weeping like a child, awash in self-pity, and the golden-haired Wood-elf had been utterly taken in. But Gorgon would never allow Kotos to expect such a thing of him again. He looked into his own grey eyes with complete, all-consuming disgust and l
oathing. He longed to return to his simple life where no one ever saw him or spoke to him, wishing for the time when the only Elves he beheld were dead or dying, tormented and crying in pain and terror. Now he was one of them! He didn’t think he could bear it much longer. He had been wrong to even believe that he could do so. The power he wielded as a result of his beauty was not worth the loss of his identity.
He brandished his long blade and drew it slowly across his left forearm, feeling the cold steel bite deep into his flesh. As he did so, he locked eyes with his reflection, delighting in the pain he saw in Orrion’s face. He cut himself again, this time allowing his face to twist into an expression of agony, and the sight of it brought him comfort. Soon he would never need to look at Orrion again.
Lord Kotos had been more than pleased with Gorgon’s performance. Wrothgar’s dark child was both intelligent and artful when properly directed. Yet he knew that the days of Gorgon’s willing cooperation were nearing their end. It was Kotos’ plan to separate from Gorgon, leaving the amulet with him so that he could, if necessary, still appear as Orrion. But Kotos intended to remain with the Company for a short while, to make certain that all went as planned. He needed a vessel for this, not to be controlled or influenced, but simply to carry Kotos with the Company.
There was only one such member who could serve as his vessel, and that was Fima, the dwarf. Kotos had attempted to influence the Children of Fior, but had realized that their minds and hearts were made of different material from men or Elves. Kotos could not control them, but he could be carried by them. Fima would never know Kotos was there at all. In fact, Kotos would impart some of his vigor to the aging Fima, lending stamina and strength so long as they were together. Kotos would lie back and wait, and watch his plans unfold.
I must leave you, he told Gorgon, who was in the process of putting on a new, black velvet tunic that had been made for him. Do not fear. Only stay out of sight of the Company, and follow behind. You will find them. They will travel north this time, avoiding the worst of the desert perils. Gaelen will be with them, and you will follow after her. I will be with them, also. When the time is right, I will rejoin you. For now, we must take separate paths.
“I’m glad. This place is weighing on my spirit,” said Gorgon. “I will take my leave tonight, then?”
You cannot leave without saying farewell to Lord Salastor, and then you must go and see to Lore-master Fima. After that you will be on your own, and I cannot aid you. You must steal away without anyone taking notice. Do you understand?
Gorgon laughed deep in his broad chest. “You have no idea how easily that can be done,” he said. “I am among the most adept persons you will have ever known—make no mistake about it.” He paused, as though considering a question. “Where are you directing them?”
If all goes well, they will travel to Tal-sithian. Once I am certain their feet are set on the right path, I will rejoin you. As long as my sister, Arialde, rules the Lake-realm, neither you nor I can venture there. But the Company will conduct their business, and then, hopefully, they will emerge. When they do, we will be waiting.
“And the Vixen? If I should have the opportunity to take her during the journey northward…?”
Don’t even think of it…it’s too late for that now. There will be time later to play with your little Wood-elf. Keep your attention focused on your task, and do not risk discovery. The Company will need their hunter-scouts to aid them in reaching the Lake-realm. This they must do—at all cost—and they must not be distracted. Do you understand?
“I suppose so,” growled Gorgon. “Though I still don’t know what your ultimate plan is, since you will not share it. Such reluctance makes it harder for me to comprehend the need to follow your instructions, if you take my meaning.” He looked into the amulet that hung around his neck, knowing that Kotos could see him.
Very well, if you would be privy to the plan, then I suppose there is no harm in sharing it, said Kotos. You have passed every test I have set for you. He then divulged the scheme, as ordered by Lord Wrothgar, and Gorgon was impressed, though he did not understand it in its entirety. He started to ask questions, but Kotos stayed him. Do not concern yourself with all intricacies of the plan, but only with your own part in it. Know that it cannot succeed without your aid, and that your Master has already promised you great reward. He has told me that you will be permitted to see to the deaths of both Lady Ordath and Lord Magra. You may deal with them as you see fit.
“To me, they are all the same,” growled Gorgon. “The death of Magra will bring no more satisfaction than the death of his lowliest Elven subject. Better Lord Wrothgar should promise that I will oversee the death of the last Elf in the world. Now, that would be a reward!” Orrion’s face twisted into a smile so full of malice that it would have stolen away the courage from anyone who beheld it.
Kotos looked upon that smile and shook his figurative head. Now, you see…that is precisely why we need to get you away from here! No Elf ever wore a smile like that. One look at your face right now and Orrion would be unmasked. Finish your preparations, and then make ready to say your farewells to Lord Salastor.
But Gorgon barely heard him, as he was still imagining the death of the last Elf in the world. The wicked smile remained, even as he finished dressing himself. He paused for one more task, that of cleaning the drops of his dark blood from the floor. His blood was like no other, and it would give him away.
Orrion made his way to the House of Lord Salastor as the sun was setting. He asked the door-warden if he might please be admitted, for he had come concerning a matter of some importance that could not wait until tomorrow.
“If you will make yourself comfortable for a few moments, I will take your message to Lord Salastor,” said the door-warden. “I will then conduct you to him, if he agrees.”
Orrion bowed and then sat carefully in one of the carved, wooden chairs inside the doorway. The moment the warden left him, he rose to his feet and began pacing.
Stop that, please. You have no reason to be so restive. Sit you back down in the chair, and wait as though you had all the time in the world to do it, said Kotos.
Orrion did so, yet the chair was too small for him, and he fidgeted like a large dog in a small cage. Kotos sighed. You are hopeless! You had best take several deep breaths, calm yourself, and concentrate on the task before you. Remember, soon you will be free of the City, and you can truly be yourself again.
Orrion barely had time for one more deep breath before the door-warden returned. “I have been asked to conduct you to Lord Salastor’s private dining chamber, if you will please follow me.”
When he saw Orrion, Salastor smiled and rose to his feet. “Will you join me in a meal? I was just sitting down to a lonely supper and I would appreciate some company. Will you join me?”
The food on the table was enticing, and Gorgon’s mouth began to water. “I don’t know…is such a thing permitted?”
Salastor looked puzzled. “Of course! Why ever would it not be? You are an honored guest in our City. Please, do me the honor of dining with me.”
Go on, then, said Kotos, to whom the question had really been directed. Sit down and eat, but remember your manners! It will be good to start your journey on a full stomach. Remember to curb your enthusiasm and eat slowly.
Orrion did so, making very few mistakes of etiquette. Salastor did not appear to notice any blunders, but finished his own meal. “I hope you are finding the fare in Dûn Arian to your liking,” he said. “Now, what was it that you wanted to see me about?”
Do not answer him with your mouth full of food! said Kotos.
Orrion swallowed the mouthful of spice-cake he had been savoring. “I intend to leave the City within the next few days,” he said.
“How regrettable! We were just beginning to know you well,” said Salastor. “You have performed many wonderful services in the brief time you have been with us. Your healing power has restored several of our citizens, and I have been made aware
of your valor in the attempted rescue of poor, ill-fated Aryiah. We were going to have a memorial for her tomorrow, and I was so hoping you would attend. I’m sure she would have wanted you there, for according to the captain of our fire brigade, your efforts were nothing short of heroic. I know many people in the City who will mourn your departure, especially our scholars.” He drew a deep breath. “I hope you do not find the question impertinent, but why must you leave us? You would be welcome for the rest of your days.”
Orrion paused, as though considering. “I must leave because there are those here who do not trust me, though I have done nothing to earn mistrust. There are other reasons, and they will remain my own, begging your pardon. I can only state that I am being driven forth even as I was driven here, by forces I do not understand. My task here is done—I have warned you of the ever-increasing threat that grows in the North. You cannot be complacent any longer, for the Shadowmancer may find your realm one day. At least now you can make ready.”
“Will you require aid?” asked Salastor. “I can send men to aid you. Only say the word, and you need not venture forth alone.”
“My thanks, but I prefer traveling alone,” said Orrion, with a very faint smile. “I beg you, do not disclose my intentions to anyone else in the City. I would prefer to simply steal away without any great fanfare.”
“Will you attend the service for Aryiah tomorrow?” asked Salastor. “I would be honored by your presence, and I will not reveal your intention to leave.”
Gorgon would not be at all comfortable at such an event, but Kotos stayed him before he could refuse. I know it is not in your nature, but you must attend. If you do not, it will seem ‘wrong.’ There is already enough suspicion surrounding you…tell him you will be there.