“I was asleep,” she began slowly, her shaky voice barely a whisper. “But I had all my senses. I could think. I could reason. It was as though I existed in a different world.”
«Brégen...»
«I heard, Protector,» came Brégen’s swift reply. «I am listening,»
“It was dark,” Irewen continued, obviously unaware of the others’ exchange. “And cold. I felt heavy, yet strangely weightless, as if I could move anywhere through space without any restrictions or hindrances. I could see no one, but I knew instinctively I was not alone. I sensed a presence, but I could not pinpoint its location. It was one, yet many. Alive, yet dead. Everywhere, yet nowhere. As if it was the universe itself.
“I do not know how long I wandered, trying to make sense of my strange surroundings, before I felt my father’s presence emerge from the being. His haunting voice pierced the silence as he desperately screamed my name. In that one word, I felt his fear and his pain. I shared in his guilt and in his regrets. I knew he needed to tell me something, but he couldn’t. I tried to call out to him, but I could not speak. I silently pleaded for him to talk to me, to tell me what was wrong, but he said nothing more. His presence faded away, blending once again into the being of the one and the many. I woke, searching in vain for him though I knew he would never again walk this earth.”
At a loss for words, Laegon simply stroked Irewen’s soft hair as she thrust her head against his shoulder.
«Well, my friend,» Brégen replied, his voice rumbling through Laegon’s mind. «That is most interesting.»
«It was just a dream, Brégen.»
«On the contrary, my good prince. What Irewen experienced was most certainly real. And in relating her tale, she unknowingly revealed part of her elven ancestry. She has the blood of the Green Elves.»
«I do not understand,» Laegon stated. «How you can be so certain? What did she say that could possibly lead you to make such a claim?»
«I know the Green Elves are extremely secluded, so I do not blame you for your ignorance.»
«Oh, get on with it,» Laegon insisted, rolling his eyes.
«The Green Elves have an intense love and appreciation of all things,» Brégen replied leisurely. «Because of this, they are the most sensitive of your kind and were the most devastated by the Divide. It is also for this reason that those among the Green Elves who felt the strongest sympathy and empathy for all life developed the rare ability to enter the world of the dead. Known as Cílléren—Speakers, in the common tongue—they enter the Spirit World through their dreams and are able to communicate with the dead. Some are only able to communicate by forming pictures or images, while others can actually speak verbally.
«Unlike the gift of Foresight, which was once shared by all the elven races, Speaking is a trait only characteristic of the Green Elves. Also, unlike one with Foresight, a Speaker will eventually learn how to enter the spirit world whenever they choose. What Irewen just described to you was her meeting with her father in the next life. The fact that she was able to hear him speak shows she is strong in the gift. Over time, she will find her voice and learn how to coax him, and others, into revealing more.»
«Even after all of these years, the extent of your knowledge continues to amaze me, my friend,» Laegon responded appraisingly.
«It is a Guardian’s job to know. And now that I have enlightened you, what, if anything, do you plan on telling Irewen?»
«She already knows it was real,» Laegon replied. «I will tell her she is a Speaker, but I will not reveal that it is a characteristic belonging solely to the Green Elves. We need her to gain enough curiosity to want to delve into her ancestry. It is possible that telling her she has the blood of a Green Elf will squelch what little interest she may already have. That is something we cannot risk.»
«You could always do the research for her.»
Laegon immediately rejected the suggestion. «No, I will certainly aid her in any way I can, but this is something she must be a part of.»
«So be it. Good luck, my friend. And be sure to get some rest tonight. I must admit you are normally fairly attractive, but you will not gain her interest if you continue to look like you were mauled by a family of bears.»
Despite himself, Laegon chuckled softly, immediately regretting it when he felt Irewen pull away.
The delicate lines of her face were frozen in anger—her voice stern. “What is so funny? I did not believe you were the kind who would laugh at another’s expense.”
He instinctively reached for her hand and grimaced when she pulled away. “I was not laughing at you or at anything you said, Irewen,” he said sincerely. “It was merely a reaction to something Brégen said to me. Learning not to react on our Guardian’s words and actions when in another’s company is something all Protectors struggle to master. Though it is difficult, it is no excuse for my behavior. Please accept my deepest and most heartfelt apology, my lady.”
He saw the doubt in her eyes, and he didn’t blame her. It was an easy and convenient explanation to absolve him of any wrongdoing. He knew that she, along with most others, believed it was an excuse all Protectors used in order to get themselves out of any difficult or embarrassing situation. Nevertheless, he also knew that deep in her heart she wanted to believe him.
“What did he say?” she finally asked, her voice laden with suspicion.
Laegon hesitated, causing Irewen to distance herself further. What Protectors and Guardians spoke of to each other was hardly ever shared, and Brégen put Laegon’s mind at ease. «You may tell her,» he said, knowing any more hesitation on the prince’s part would simply convince Irewen that her suspicions were correct.
“He informed me that I need to rest tonight. Apparently, he seems to think that despite my usual mildly handsome features, looking like I have been mauled by a family of bears is doing nothing to gain your interest.”
“Hmm,” she replied slowly. “He does have a point.”
«See? I told you.» The triumphant overtones in Brégen’s voice were hard to miss. «You must listen to my advice more often, Protector.»
Without acknowledging his Guardian, Laegon looked at Irewen, completely stunned and thoroughly confused.
“I was joking,” she assured him, patting his hand. “I must ask you to accept my apology, Laegon. I have to admit that I forgot you are a Protector. I should not have jumped to conclusions.”
“You do not need to apologize, Irewen. Anyone would have shared your reaction. Regardless of Brégen’s extremely well-placed remarks, it was inconsiderate of me to react as I did.”
“There are certain things which require laughter, no matter the circumstances,” she said with a slight smile. “I am certain that if our places were reversed, I would have laughed as well.”
“Perhaps, though nothing is certain.”
“Where is Brégen? I have yet to see him.”
“Do not worry; I have not chucked him out in the cold. I needed to send word to my father of the situation and request for him to send a rider to our location with extra supplies. With my horse in tow, Brégen returned to Silverden as soon as we reached the safety of this cave. He protested most strongly about that, claiming he refused to be downgraded to a horse guide. But a cave, no matter its size, is no place for a steed. Given the harshness of the winter, there was nowhere for Silwen to graze, and I did not have enough feed for the duration of our stay. Of course, Brégen eventually conceded to my request. Tomorrow, he will make his way here from Silverden with a companion whose identity I have not yet been able to wheedle out of him.”
«All in good time, my prince,» Brégen interjected playfully.
“And if this mystery guest turns out to be my horse,” Laegon continued mischievously, “Brégen will be first in line for some choice words.”
Brégen’s grunt of disapproval boomed through Laegon’s mind.
“Are all Protectors and Guardians as entertaining as the two of you?” Irewen asked with an amused grin.
“Guardians do not speak to anyone other than their Protector unless it is an emergency, and our conversations are rarely shared with others, so I cannot say for certain. But I will say that it is highly unlikely. It is well known that Brégen is the resident clown among the Guardians. I have often thought that if he was ever unable to perform his current duties, he could always secure a position as a jester.”
“It must be wonderful to have a Guardian, someone you know will always be there for you and whose bonds of friendship will never be cut. Someone who will never turn their back on you. Someone who would never even dream of deceiving you.”
“Aye, it is wonderful,” Laegon agreed, feeling Brégen delight in the compliment.
«I always knew you would make a decent Protector,» the Guardian quipped before slowly retreating. His presence quickly became nothing more than a dull pulse in the back of the elf’s mind.
“Like elves, the Guardians are blessed with long lives,” Laegon continued, grateful for the privacy. “I have lived over two hundred years and was chosen by Brégen when I was only fifteen. I cannot remember what it was like not to constantly feel his presence in my mind. There are many times when I wonder how the rest of the world manages to survive their daily lives without such companionship. No matter how far away we are from one another, Brégen is always there.”
“I never realized the connection was that strong,” Irewen commented. “In a way, it must be rather uncomfortable. To have someone constantly in your mind, always listening to your thoughts.”
“All Guardians, even Brégen, are capable of some discretion,” Laegon explained. “Just because we always feel our Guardian’s presence does not mean we are bereft of privacy.”
“I don’t understand.”
“A Guardian’s constant presence in our minds is simply a way for them to ensure that his or her Protector is not in danger,” he clarified. “For example, at the moment, Brégen can simply sense that I am calm and there is nothing posing a threat to either my safety or your safety. He does not know what I am thinking or feeling, nor can he hear what either of us are saying. Most of the time, this is how Brégen is connected to me, prepared to jump to my aid at the first hint of danger.
“That being said, there certainly are times when I allow him to read my thoughts and, if a situation warrants it, listen through my ears. Of course, our connection with one another is strongest when we use Míendvel—Mind Voice in the common tongue—which, as you witnessed firsthand, can lead to rather embarrassing situations in the company of others. Still, every Guardian knows when to retreat and give their Protector privacy, even Brégen.”
“Are you in Brégen’s mind?”
“Most definitely. Everything I have just said is true in reverse. Brégen can feel me in his mind as I can feel him in mine. I know he is in high spirits and does not feel threatened. Should that change, I will know instantly and will do what I can to protect him.”
“That sounds quite lovely actually,” Irewen replied with a longing smile. She wished Silevethiel had stayed with her after saving her from the abyss.
“What was it like when Silevethiel spoke to you?” Laegon asked, as if sensing her thoughts.
Irewen closed her eyes, reliving the experience. “It was absolutely glorious. It was as though I had discovered a part of myself I never knew existed. I felt whole. Complete. When she left, it felt as though a part of me died. I knew I would never again feel such a magnificent and joyful peace. It may sound strange, but even after being connected to her for such a short time, I feel rather lost without her.”
Silence fell between them. Laegon studied her, surprised her connection with Silevethiel had been that strong. “Aye,” he said quietly after a time. “That is exactly what it feels like.”
“Then why did she leave?” Irewen demanded. Her expression betrayed her hurt and frustration. “I have elven blood.”
“Unfortunately, that is a question I cannot answer. Perhaps she did not think it was the proper time to cement your relationship. Perhaps she did not feel such a strong connection as you did. That is rare, but sadly it happens. It is true you have elven blood, but only a quarter. Perhaps that is not enough, or perhaps there is not the blood of a Wood Elf in your ancestry. We are the only elven race with Guardians. Even then, only a select few of us are chosen.”
“Then why did she bother to connect with me in the first place? Why inconvenience herself to save my life?”
“Nothing a Guardian does is ever an inconvenience to themselves or to anyone else. For whatever reason, Silevethiel knew she was meant to save you, and she did. I cannot speculate the reasoning behind her actions, and I do not want to. What matters is that you are here. She acted as she saw fit. This does, however, return us to our earlier topic of conversation.”
Irewen cocked her head quizzically.
“Your dream,” he answered in response to her silent question. “Once again, I am extremely thankful for Brégen’s seemingly bottomless pit of knowledge. Without it, I would never have known that you have the blood of a Green Elf.”
The words were out of Laegon’s mouth before he realized his error. He did his best not to let his irritation with himself show. Ün frayn, Laegon! he screamed to himself. He couldn’t believe he had told Irewen exactly what he’d wanted to keep hidden. But it was too late for regrets. There was nothing he could do to take back the words. Though it would now be more difficult, he would still find a way to pique her curiosity and allow her interest in her heritage to blossom.
“What?” she asked with surprise, completely unaware of his inner fury. “How could he know such a thing?”
He smiled in spite of himself. Her reaction to the discovery was almost identical to his. “Do you know much of the history of the elves?”
“None.”
“Then make yourself comfortable and get ready for a good bit of storytelling. For in order for you to fully understand, I will need to recount our history since before the Divide.”
Timidly, Irewen leaned against him. He put his arm around her, inviting her to come closer, and his body tingled with excitement when she eventually relaxed into his embrace. Resting her head on his shoulder, an errant raven curl brushed against his lower cheek, and for some inexplicable reason he found it to be one of the most incredible sensations he’d ever experienced.
Slowly, as if someone else had taken control of his voice, he recounted the history of his people, all the while praying this moment would never end.
6
“SO IT WASN’T A DREAM,” IREWEN SAID QUIETLY WHEN Laegon finished. “It was real.”
“Aye, it was indeed. Because you were able to hear your father speak, your gift is strong. You will become more comfortable with your power as time goes by. Eventually you will be able to enter the world of the dead whenever you choose. Your father’s message will become clear, and you will find your voice. It is a rare and special ability, and one not to be used frivolously.”
“Do you think that may be the reason Silevethiel did not choose me as her Protector?”
“Although it is definitely a possibility, I cannot know for certain. Both abilities are unique to different elven races, Cílléren to the Green Elves and Protectors to the Wood Elves. There have been elves with mixed blood in our past. It would not be impossible for you to have the blood of two, or even all four of the races. Since Silevethiel was able to speak to you with Míendvel, it is highly likely that you have the blood of a Wood Elf. To my knowledge, no Speaker has ever been chosen as a Protector.”
“Forgive me if this sounds childish, but I would rather be a Protector.”
Laegon’s voice was almost severe in his response. “We all have a purpose in this world, Irewen. You were meant to be a Speaker. That much is clear. It is a wonderful gift and its importance should not be taken lightly.”
Irewen sighed laboriously, and Laegon immediately sensed the weight of her misery. He could only imagine the emptiness she felt after the link with Silevethiel was broken.
“What is unclear,” he continued, giving her shoulder a slight squeeze, “is your position as a Protector. Simply because something has never happened does not mean it never will. Do not dwell on what is beyond your control. Brégen told me Silevethiel wants to meet with you.”
The princess’s expression brightened. “About becoming my Guardian?”
“Unfortunately, Brégen has not been told. Though it is difficult to believe, the Dame is even more stubborn than Brégen at times. The best thing you can do is simply relax and wait to see what the future holds. You may find you are stressing over nothing.”
“Thank you,” she answered with a timid smile. “You are right, of course.”
“I am only saying what I believe in my heart to be true. This world is riddled with hardships beyond our control. No one, especially someone in your situation, should put added pressure on themselves. If we did, the days would become nearly impossible to live through.”
“Even without self-inflicted stress, our daily lives would be a greater struggle without the help of a friend,” Irewen said.
“Aye,” he agreed, “and although I know it can never be the same as Silevethiel, I will always be here for you. Just like a Guardian, I will watch over you and protect you with my life. That is the promise I made the moment I saw your fragile body lying in the snow. Since then, my bond to you has only grown stronger. I could not turn back even if I wanted to. Whatever road you choose, I will follow. That is an oath that will never be broken.”
The longing in Irewen’s eyes made his very soul tingle with desire. He leaned towards her, wanting nothing more than to feel the warmth of her lips against his, when he suddenly felt Brégen’s presence grow stronger.
«Laegon.»
He ignored the Guardian, making absolutely certain to not make the same mistake he did earlier. He slowly lifted Irewen’s chin, almost bursting with joy when she did not resist. They were so close, he could feel her hot breath upon his lips and smell the sweetness of her skin. He hesitated; suddenly overcome with the same nerves he suspected were fluttering within her.
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