“I missed you, Erulissé,” Analindë said as she spooned some of the spiced rice into her mouth. Rice, cardamom pods, saffron, cloves, bay leaves, cinnamon, fennel and a hint of salt. It really was delicious. “They didn’t like the trick you played, did they?” She watched Erulissé cringe. “You’re okay?” Analindë asked.
“Yes, I’m fine . . . given the choice again, I’d still do it. But perhaps I’d flout the rules a little less blatantly next time. A voice recording locked into a pretty piece of glass or something. I don’t know. Let’s hope there isn’t a next time.” She winked. The others at the table took that moment to grab Analindë’s attention. They pelted her with questions ranging from what kinds of new spells she had learned to what it was like to see a real Human. She studied her friends around the table as she answered their questions.
All manner of skills were taught at Mirëdell; each of her friends studied different disciplines. Every discipline had representation at Mirëdell, from all the mage powers, to those of the earth elements and the arts, and then lastly to healing. Each branch or subset of study had their own set of requirements, and some fields of study had established trade schools elsewhere; nonetheless, everyone came to study at Mirëdell regardless if their stay was short or long.
Analindë envied her classmates who had come to Mirëdell years before her. She, herself, had studied the basics of art, history, sciences, and languages at home. Varying tutors had taught both Analindë and Riian, and then just herself once her brother had gone off to school. Her parents had played an active role in directing what she learned and how well she learned it.
Since she had come to Mirëdell later than most, she hadn’t had a ready group of friends. The group surrounding her were all older than Analindë, but they had welcomed her in with open arms, mostly due to Erulissé. She liked them; she was more than happy that they liked her back.
And so Analindë calmly answered her friend’s questions even though a headache had began to grow behind her eyes. She had expected her friends to want to know how she fared, but she’d underestimated their interest. Since they’d been denied the tower and any reliable news of her, they wanted to know every detail of her adventures. Right now. Of their group, only Erulissé had been allowed to visit. Unfortunately, Erulissé hadn’t been able to quench their thirst for news for Analindë had told her very little during that ill-fated lunch.
She winced as pain briefly stabbed her temple. The constant questions she dealt with just fine; it was the swirling vortex of barely leashed Energy surging around her that made her ill. No wonder many of the Masters chose not to eat with them.
She’d recently read that the period of time when an elve came into their powers was challenging; that the Energy within a person’s newly found source stretched and flexed as it grew, constantly flaring brightly and lashing out until it finally steadied and calmed. It was a process that took about fifty years to complete. Her transformation had taken about four weeks and left her over-sensitized. Her newly found senses keenly felt the scarcely controlled Energy eddying about the room.
She couldn’t see each individual source buried within each of the students, but she sensed the flares and bursts of power just fine. With all of them packed in the dining hall together, the effect was incredible. The restless Energy was as tangible as the bench she sat upon. A small part of her wished that she’d never grown bored of Master Therin’s rooms. It was the old part of her, the part of her that would have chosen to fall rather than take courage to fly.
She wove a temporary shield around her mind to reduce the swirling sensation and she sighed in immediate relief.
Analindë’s eyes sought out Andulmaion across the room; she caught sight of him. He looked just about as exhausted as she. An insistent tug on Analindë’s sleeve brought her attention back to Erulissé.
“I’m sorry my mind was wandering. You were saying?”
“Oh Analindë, you look exhausted. As much as I dislike to say it, you should have stayed up in that tower and not come down for at least another week.”
Analindë dropped her voice and leaned closer to her friend. “I don’t think I could Erulissé; it’s already been weeks! And the walls are starting to close in on me.”
Erulissé gave her a look of disgust. “Analindë, you still look half-dead, and when you stand it looks as if a slight breeze would blow you over.”
“I’m stronger than I look. You won’t believe the shields I can make.”
A familiar twinkle filled Erulissé’s eyes.
Immediately switching gears, Analindë demanded. “Oh no, what have you done?”
“Me?” she asked innocently. “Nothing of great importance.” She smiled and the merry sparkle in Erulissé’s eyes grew stronger.
“Tell me. I know you too well. You can’t fool me.”
Her dear friend’s smile broadened. “I suppose I might as well tell you; it concerns you anyway.”
Analindë groaned. “Erulissé, what have you done?”
“Nothing that bad. From what I hear, you are able to produce quite impressive shields.” She paused to wave languidly at a couple of friends as they left the table, keeping Analindë in suspense.
“What?” Erulissé drawled with a shrug when she realized that Analindë continued to wait expectantly. “I heard the instructors talking when they thought no one was near; they say all elven mages from Lindënolwë have always wielded energies strongly, but you more so than any other for a very long time. There, are you satisfied?”
“You shouldn’t have risked it. What if they had caught you listening in? What would you say? What would you have done?” Analindë hunched forward to sag against the table. Her eyebrows knitted together; the throb in her head grew stronger.
“Analindë, how else was I to know how you fared? No one would tell me anything and I was getting worried. We all were. The not-knowing was killing me. It was almost worse than when the bells began to toll several weeks ago. Oh, you should have heard them ring Analindë. The ringing was actually quite beautiful to listen to, haunting but beautiful. And there were so many bells. We found some that even the teachers hadn’t known of. Small ones hidden away in closets and chests long forgotten, they all had to be switched off. And the great big one in the central tower that never rings.” Her left eyebrow arched. “Well, it rang.
“Mirëdell looked like a beehive, everyone running every which way. Students ushered to the hiding rooms below, and the guard, up and patrolling the walls. Sword Sworn were crawling all over the place. As you know, we never actually see the Sword Sworn out and about. Well, they were out in force and they didn’t care that everyone noticed.” Erulissé shivered; Analindë frowned. The Sword Sworn rarely acted openly. “And when people found the message you sent. It was worse. Everyone was in an uproar . . . and they were grim. Quite unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”
Analindë had wondered what it must have been like when the message had been sent and it was nice to hear Erulissé’s thoughts on the matter. She just wished that perhaps the discussion could have taken place at a later date.
“Oh, and we all cried . . . the teachers, and the healers, and the High Mages, even the Weapons Masters; anyone who had known your family. The Mages of Lindënolwë were very respected and liked by many. Always have been.” Erulissé cleared her throat and then continued.
“I am so sorry, but I am so happy that you survived.” Tears ran slowly down Erulissé’s face. “I would have missed you more than you know.”
Analindë gently wiped her own tears away, “I too am glad to be back; I missed you as well.” Her eyes misted again. “Thanks for telling me . . . I think . . . I think I would have liked to have heard the bells ring.” Analindë gathered her dishes together, then fiddled with her glass of cider. She took a deep breath. “I am going to ask Master Therin to let me start attending regular classes again. I’ve learned quite a bit during the past few weeks, so I’m not sure which classes I’ll be assigned to.” Analindë shrugged apologe
tically.
“Even if you’re not in any of my classes it will be good to see you once more in the halls.”
“It will be good to see you as well,” Analindë smiled.
Andulmaion stepped up to their table, she hadn’t noticed his approach. “Master Therin is expecting us, we should start back now.”
Analindë bid farewell to her friends and carried her dishes through the crowded dining hall to the washroom. They stacked their dishes in a bin; the food had begun to disappear off of them by the time they’d turned away to head to the tower.
“It was nice to see everyone again,” said Analindë.
“Yes. They looked excited to see you as well.”
“I noticed that your friends wouldn’t let you have a moment of peace.”
“Most of them have already started their tuvaliës, but the few that are still here had plenty of questions.”
“And did you have answers for them?” she grinned up at him.
“Some yes, others no. I was, however, able to learn a few things from them.”
Analindë turned a questioning look up to him.
“Not only do they have scouts tracking the human camp in the mountains, but they have farseeing mages keeping watch.”
“Are there scout outposts for them to stay in?”
“No, not where they are camped right now. It’ll be a long cold winter for them.”
“And the Humans?” she asked.
“They are low on rations and have a permanent camp of sorts set up for the winter.”
“So we have some time yet to decide how to deal with them.”
“Yes, we have some time.”
She didn’t mention anything about the griffins. Somehow the hilarity of that rumor didn’t fit in with the current mood. Analindë sighed, “That is good.”
They finished their journey to the tower in silence. Master Therin was waiting for them in the sitting room. He had lit a fire in the hearth and was sitting in the armchair nearest the warmth.
“Come and sit. I have made tea.” Analindë sat on the couch and Andulmaion sat to her right in his favorite armchair, Master Therin passed them cups. “Tell me of your day.”
Andulmaion and Analindë recounted their shielding practice, the trip to the healers, and their evening meal among the students.
“I believe it is time that we regained some normalcy of schedules. Analindë, you are almost healed; your strength returns, does it not?” Analindë nodded and leaned forward anxiously. He continued, “I would like for you both to resume classes.” He fiddled with a stack of papers he had at his side. “Andulmaion, there are studies you may yet learn here at Mirëdell during this winter.”
Analindë watched Andulmaion’s fingers. They looked stiff as if he was forcibly keeping still.
“As you wish,” Andulmaion nodded.
“I have arranged for Master Ithilwen to tutor you along with your classmate Calanon.”
Andulmaion’s eyes widened in surprise, his fingers relaxed. “Thank you Master Therin.”
“As the best offensive mage Mirëdell has, I expect she may be able to help you work on your spell.” Analindë saw Master Therin’s lips quirk up before he hid behind his teacup. “It will be a morning class and begins tomorrow. Additionally, I would like you to spend two afternoons a week working with the Weapons Master; it would be wise to keep up your skills with blade this close to your tuvalië. And three afternoons each week I would like you to continue shielding work with Analindë.”
“Yes, Master Therin. I expect Analindë will be resuming regular classes as well?” he asked.
“She will.”
“I will work my afternoons around hers so that we can practice. And now, with your permission Master Therin, I will bid you both goodnight.” Andulmaion nodded his head as he rose and then moved toward his room with a lightness of step she’d not seen before. Analindë rose as well and was halfway across the room when Master Therin spoke.
“Analindë.”
“Yes, Master Therin?” She turned back toward him.
“Come speak with me for a moment longer.” He set his cup and saucer down upon the side table. Analindë drifted back to her place on the couch and waited politely. She was a bit in shock that he actually wanted to speak with her in private.
After a pause Master Therin said, “Analindë, if you have troubles, or when you do . . . I would that you come to me so that I may help as I can. I was troubled to hear that you have had disturbing dreams. As your mentor, I should have been more attentive and am sorry for not seeing to your needs.” His somber eyes stilled her.
Analindë chose her words carefully, not wanting to hurt the dear man. Shadows lurked in his eyes, haunted. He pressed one hand against his temple again; it appeared that his headaches were back. “Master Therin, worry not. All is made right. Laerwen has given me a drug to ease my sleep.” She hesitated a moment, wanting to point out that he was never around to speak to, but he’d already apologized for making himself scarce. “Should there be pressing items in the future I will come again to you for counsel.”
“Good. I would that you not hide things like this in the future. I would help when I can, and there are others who are available to help when I cannot.” He sighed heavily, appearing to age thirty years in that one breath. “The meetings with the High Council have kept me busy. I have not given you enough attention as a mentor should.” The guilt in his eyes pained her as the stars in them sank.
“I will come to you in the future and am sorry for not having spoken with you sooner.” She fiddled with a ring on her finger.
“Now, as for your studies. Tomorrow I will teach you about your source, and the afternoon will be spent doing research in the student library. The day after that you will rejoin your classmates in potions and begin coursework in healing. We’ll add more classes later as your strength increases.”
Despite failed expectations in the past, she found her heart trilling with excitement. He was going to teach her directly, one on one. Keeping her enthusiasm to herself so as not to betray her unsophistication, she said pleasantly, “It’ll be good to see my friends again.”
“Yes, I do believe it will. Now before you go to sleep tonight, I would that you read this book in preparation for tomorrow.” Master Therin handed her a slim leather-bound book; engraved in silver across the cover were the words Grounding and Centering.
Very entertaining choice of reading Master Therin, she thought.
“Now off with you,” Master Therin said with a stern face; the stars in his eyes had risen, their twinkle made her wonder if she’d spoken aloud.
Analindë finished the book within a short period of time and reread a few passages that intrigued her. She pondered the journey she’d made to Mirëdell and how she’d practiced centering and grounding along the way without realizing it.
The book spoke in great detail about breathing techniques to quiet her mind, how to calmly reach out for an anchor, or search for the stillness inside.
Deep into the night, Analindë finally brewed herself a cup of Laerwen’s tea, extinguished the mage light she’d used to read by, and enjoyed the first good night’s sleep she’d had since she’d been roused from the healer induced coma.
The next morning, Analindë emerged from her room to find Master Therin waiting for her at the breakfast table. He looked much better than he had the previous evening. His eyes were clear and bright and his expression was relaxed. It appeared that Andulmaion had already broken his fast and left to meet with Master Ithilwen. Their typical breakfast lay on the table: various fruits, sliced meats, and fresh breads accompanied by a pot of tea.
“Good morning Master Therin.” Analindë poured herself a cup of tea, grabbed an orange, and began to peel it.
“Good morning Analindë, I trust you slept well?”
“Yes, thank the stars for untroubled sleep.”
“That makes good hearing. I trust you have heard the latest news about the humans and the Mageborn Books?”
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Analindë was surprised. Was he actually addressing the subject himself? She cautiously broached a few questions of her own. “I heard, but only recently. Do you have news of the others from my village? Have they decided where to resettle?”
“All that were away from home are safe and accounted for.” He broke a roll in half and lavishly spread fresh butter on it. “There is talk of many returning to the village in the spring.”
Analindë’s teacup clattered to its saucer; its contents sloshed merrily over the rim, burning her hand. Her eyes darted to Master Therin’s. “Is it wise to return?”
“Wise or not, there are those who call it home and would continue to do so.”
“Will the Humans come again?”
“It is doubtful. The books they sought are lost to them now. Besides, it is not the first time we have battled against the humans; if permitted, a way will be found to keep the village safe.” Therin plucked an apple off the table and split it crisply into sections with a simple spell.
“But first we must root out the traitors from within. Some very powerful Masters have chosen to move against the peace. Gildhorn is one of the least of these; treachery runs deep and I fear a return of the Elven Wars of old.”
“Which families have acted and can they be stopped?”
Master Therin ignored the first half of her question. “Yes, if we catch them in time,” he said with gentleness that did not reach his eyes. She shivered.
“How much time do we have? Will they move against us now that they are discovered?” She decided not to question him further about which families had turned.
“We have until spring to stop the humans, and unfortunately, they have managed to survive rockslides, fire, and raging beasts. Perhaps they will not survive the winter.” He looked hopeful. “We dare not get too close until we know what spell was used. Our historians and many of our mages search diligently for any hint. The only difficulty that we experience in watching over the humans—and I do not share this with you lightly—is that our mages have had some trouble keeping track of them. It is as if our mages are being actively blocked. But have no fear, the human wizard is not powerful enough to form a portal on his own. No man or elve by himself is powerful enough. Frankly, let us hope the humans do not survive the winter.” He took a bite of his apple and chewed slowly.
Analindë (The Chronicles of Lóresse) Page 23