The Five Elements

by Scott Marlowe

  That was something Aaron understood.

  Ensel Rhe went on. "The worst of it all—that they took the life of my son, to be sure—but that Balrabbek insisted I flee immediately, without even time for an explanation to my family. My wife, Awen Ren, and my daughter, Jakinda, no doubt think I am dead. That, or they've been deceived by Balrabbek's lies and think me a coward."

  Aaron's gaze wandered out to the ocean and the first tinges of the sun's morning light. When enough silence had hung between them, Ensel Rhe finally stood and started to make his way to the trail leading up the cliff's face. Aaron's voice stopped him.

  "I know what it's like to lose a home."

  Ensel Rhe turned and waited.

  "I also know what it's like to lose someone you love. I wish I really was a wizard and that I could have saved her. She didn't have to die. If I hadn't let her go in the Underkeep, or if she'd only—maybe she'd—"

  "Aaron."

  Ensel Rhe was there, standing before him. His hand came to rest on Aaron's shoulder.

  "Aaron, you can't save everyone."

  "But I wasn't trying to save everyone. Just her."

  "The pain will not go away soon," Ensel Rhe said. "It very likely never will. Take solace in the fact that, of all the things you have done, at least some of it was good. Sometimes, it is all we have. Now," Ensel Rhe said, his voice lowering almost to a whisper, "I go to bury my son."

  Aaron watched the eslar disappear down the trail. It wasn't long before Serena appeared in his place.

  "Hello," she said. When he didn't say anything right away, she frowned. "Still not talking?"

  "I'm talking."

  "Oh! Good. I was beginning to worry. That and I was getting tired of hearing the sound of my own voice."

  Aaron doubted that. She'd made multiple daily visits in the time since they'd returned. But, unlike Ensel Rhe, who was content to leave Aaron to his thoughts, Serena spent the entirety of the time either attempting to engage Aaron in idle chitchat or updating him on every nuanced happening going on in the camp. Though Aaron mostly ignored her, he meant her no slight and was glad his aloofness did not deter her from her visits. In truth, part of him looked forward to seeing her and the news she brought. Excepting Ensel Rhe, she was the only person who did not shy from his presence.

  Serena threw a glance at Aaron's discarded rod and line. "No fishing today?"

  Aaron looked at the rod, then at the foaming shoals. Rather than pick up the rod, he found a dry place to sit.

  "Maybe later," he said.

  Serena joined him. Almost immediately, Aaron noticed a shiver run through her. They'd all had to make do with whatever clothing they'd had on their backs. Serena was no exception. He moved closer, to share warmth, though he came up short of actually touching her. She saw what he was doing and bridged the last bit of distance herself, even going so far as to hook her arm in with his. For once, she said nothing, content to take in the ocean's majesty. It was Aaron who finally interrupted the silence.

  "Why did you help us at Wildemoore?" It was something he'd wondered since the moment he saw her enter Ansanom's laboratory.

  Serena replied in a small voice. "Because I was tired of watching Ansanom hurt people. There were others. He used them while he was building and testing his machine. You saw—know—what he did."

  Yes, Aaron knew.

  "Did he ever hurt you?" Aaron asked.

  "Me? No, never. My parents were paying him too much money for him to ever hurt me." Serena explained how, every month, one of her family's stewards would visit Wildemoore with a dual purpose. To deliver a lender's note to Ansanom but also to gauge her well-being. It was an arrangement that satisfied her family's desire that she develop her talent while Ansanom filled his coffers with the coin he needed to carry on his experiments and procure whatever special materials and equipment he needed. Of course, Serena's family knew nothing of the diablerie Ansanom was working, nor had Serena been given any opportunities to inform them of it, their family steward's visits having been closely monitored.

  "Oh!" Serena sat up straight. "I suppose they'll be wondering if I'm dead after the next courier sees what happened to Wildemoore." She slouched so that she half-leaned into Aaron. "I'll have to get word to them somehow."

  "We will."

  Serena said nothing in response to that, but asked, "Did you have many friends here?"

  "No, not really. A few." Aaron paused to take in a breath. He let it out slowly. "One, really."

  Serena didn't need to ask who that one had been. "You liked her a lot, didn't you?" she said in a whisper.

  "Yes."

  They said nothing else as they watched the sun rise above the distant horizon. Serena rose sometime after that, excusing herself but promising to return later that day. She made it as far as the spot where she and Ensel Rhe had crossed paths when Aaron's voice stopped her.

  "Wait!"

  He stumbled after her. When he caught up, Serena asked, "Done fishing?"

  "For now."

  Aaron's gaze wandered past her, to the cliffs. He'd been walking up and down the trails for days, yet he'd never really stopped to look at them. They were so different, made all the more so by the absence of Regrok surmounting them and, once rising above even that but no longer, the spired towers and high buildings of Norwynne. All of it—Graggly's Tower, Ellingrel, Lord Vuller's palace, the Underkeep, all the nooks and crannies he and Shanna had discovered—were gone now. Aaron’s gaze returned to the crashing waves. Maybe he'd stay here, down by the shoals, for just a little—

  "Tell me about her," Serena said.

  "What?"

  "Tell me about Shanna." She held her hand out to him. "Walk me to the top and tell me about her."

  Aaron stared at her hand for a moment, then he reached out and took it. He started at the beginning, his first words coming out in a stutter that smoothed once he'd fallen into a rhythm. He did not have to search his memory for what they'd said to one another, nor did he have to dig very deep to remember what she'd been wearing or even what she'd smelled like. He remembered everything about her.

  Nor would he ever forget.

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Scott Marlowe divides his time between writing fiction, mountain biking, and designing software systems for the accounting and medical industries. He currently lives in Texas with his wife and two crazy dogs.

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