by Adam Thomas
“I’ll get it eventually,” Rhys said. “Thank you for teaching me.”
“Thank you for being interested in my culture and language. It’s not often that a Kelenite is.”
“It’s not often that an elf and a Kelenite spend this much –”
But a sharp whistle from Alurel cut off Rhys’s words. She had ridden into the lead when Shonasir dropped back, and now Alurel reined in her horse to let the others catch up.
“There’s a dust cloud kicking up southwest of here,” she said.
eleven
The Wandering Herd
Jeral stood in his stirrups to get a better view of the distant cloud. “Could you make out anything else?” Jeral asked.
“Not in this form,” Alurel said, and she leapt into the air as the long-necked crane. Her black-tipped wings spread wide as she spiraled skyward.
“She’s getting more comfortable around us,” Shonasir said. “She usually transforms out of sight.”
Emric turned his pony in a circle. “There isn’t really an ‘out of sight’ out here.”
“Too true.” Shonasir slipped off their horse and pulled their bow from a sheath along Surprise’s flank. “Best be prepared.”
Once their bow was strung, Shonasir pulled a handful of arrows from their quiver and stuck them in the ground within easy reach. Rhys dismounted and stood by Shonasir. He did not yet draw his swords, but they were always a breath away from being in hand. Emric and Jeral remained mounted behind them.
The dust cloud approached, and still they could not see what caused it. The weather had been unseasonably dry for early spring. What would become an ocean of lush, green grass had not yet woken from winter’s sleep.
The crane made a wide arc and landed behind the horses. Alurel reverted from her animal form and yelled to her companions. “It’s all right! They’re friendly.”
Shonasir looked back at Alurel and took in the joyous grin spreading across her face. The elf plucked their arrows from the ground and stuck them back in their quiver. On their right, they felt Rhys relax, and they turned to consider him. His body had been a tense ball of anticipation, ready to swing his blades tirelessly in defense of his allies. Shonasir never got close enough to the fight to feel entirely endangered, but Rhys was always there in the thick of it. Shonasir wondered at their Kelenite friend. He was so gentle and curious, not at all what they would have expected from someone who could wield two longswords at the same time. Or from someone who made a living as an enforcer to a crime lord. If they were happy to get away from the university for a time, then surely Rhys was glad, too, to be out from under the watchful eye of Padraig Duna. Both Rhys and Shonasir craved learning and adventure. That was their bond.
The party walked their horses in the direction of the dust cloud, which was close enough now for them to make out the shapes of several dozen large beasts at its center. They could feel tremors in the ground as the herd of buffalo approached, and now they began to hear the sounds of snorting and grunting. At the head of the herd walked a trio of copper-skinned elves, one of whom made a sharp whistling noise as they neared. The buffalo stopped their forward progress and began wandering under the watchful gaze of more elves.
The one who whistled walked toward the party. They were tall and broader across the chest than most elves. They wore their long auburn hair loose except for a small bun atop their head. Jeral nudged Alurel and gave her a ‘not-too-bad-looking’ smirk. She countered with her own look that said ‘back-off-this-one’s-mine.’ Jeral shrugged and prodded Alurel forward.
“Fyara,” she said and moved her fingers from her mouth to her chest to her navel.
“Fyarana,” the elf said, stopping a few feet away. “You honor us by marking this meeting as a blessing.” They mirrored Alurel’s motion with their fingers. “I am Relinon of the Oruana Kir.”
“Alurel,” she said, and then she forced herself to hold the elf’s gaze as she continued, “Of the Starfallen.”
An ounce of confusion dashed across Relinon’s face, but then they smiled and said, “Well met, Alurel of the Starfallen and companions. It is not often we meet travelers under the vast, open skies.” They gave Alurel a penetrating look. “Or see certain birds so far inland.”
“Bird?” Alurel echoed a little too quickly. “I didn’t see any birds. Did you all see any birds?”
Her companions knew by now to answer in the negative, which they all did, also too quickly and with too much conviction.
Relinon stepped closer to Alurel. “I know we have just met, but I assure you, you have no reason to dissemble before me.”
Alurel blinked a few times and licked her lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The elf held their hand out, palm up, and before Alurel could think, she had placed her hand in theirs. “You are right to be circumspect around people who are not your people.” They gestured with their free hand to the herd of buffalo and the rest of their elven companions. “But we are your people.”
Alurel shook with unbidden emotion. “I’m not Kir. I’m not even a full elf. I just have...have…” She swallowed down her fear of rejection. “I have the ability to commune.”
“I know,” Relinon said. “I can feel the gift welling inside you. It is rare among those of less than full elven blood, but not completely unknown.” They took both of Alurel’s hands. “This chance meeting proves that there are no chance meetings. There is an old Kir saying: ‘All paths converge if one walks them long enough.’ I would welcome you home to the Kir if you would permit me.”
“I have business with my friends. I’m afraid I cannot stay with you and your herds.”
“You need not, Alurel of the Starfallen. We are the Long Walkers, and you are a part of us no matter how far away you travel. I have never before been fortunate enough to meet one such as you. Today is a day of great blessing. Please, will you commune with me?”
Sudden tears formed in Alurel’s eyes. She had left Starfall for reasons she did not entirely understand, but she knew her gift spurred her leaving. Since then, she had met with nothing but prejudice and animosity from the humans she had encountered – people like that Serafina Sindar or the Kelenites who threw her in jail. She was afraid the elves would treat her the same way, that she would perpetually be stuck between the two peoples that mingled unharmoniously in her blood.
But here in the middle of Daen under a bright spring sun, an elf was holding her hand and holding her gaze with their eyes that were the color of leaves at dusk. Alurel sucked in a breath and held it behind her chattering teeth.
“There is no cause for fear,” Relinon said softly so that only she could make out their words. “We were once hunted nearly to extinction, but we survived, and we continue our long walk despite a second forced removal from the Forest-Betwixt-the-Rivers. To meet one of our kind in the wilds is a gift beyond what I could ask or imagine.”
Alurel let out her held breath and nodded. “What do I have to do to commune?”
Relinon smiled. “Come with me. This part is private for those of the Kir.”
Rhys took a step forward as Relinon drew Alurel away. The elf turned and said to Rhys, “The fact that you travel with one of my kindred tells me you have earned her trust. But you have not earned mine.” Their eyes hardened and their voice dropped lower. “Do not give me a reason to unleash my people’s hatred of yours upon you alone.”
Rhys pulled his hand away from his sword’s hilt. “Believe me, the Kelenites who hate you are my enemy as well.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Relinon said. “Now, stay here. I promise, no harm will come to Alurel.”
Shonasir tugged gently on Rhys’s arm, and the swordsman stepped back. The elf nodded curtly to him and led Alurel towards the herd. They passed among the buffalo, who munched placidly on the dried winter grass. When they reached the center of the herd and were out of sight
of Alurel’s companions, Relinon let go of her hand and turned to her.
“Do you have a favored animal form? A shape that means more to you than any other you might be able to take?”
“Yes. The panther.”
Relinon smiled again, and their muscular chest rose and fell with a sigh of contentment. Alurel had to keep herself from placing her hands on their pectorals and pressing in, hoping for an embrace. The moment was not exactly romantic. Relinon’s formal manner spoke too much of ritual for that. Also, they were surrounded by buffalo. Alurel was not sure if her attraction to them was due to their perfect physique or their affirmation of her identity. Probably both.
“I was hoping for a big cat,” Relinon said, and suddenly a tiger stood before her. The tiger’s eyes were the same dusk leaf color as Relinon’s and they held the same kindness.
Alurel shaped into her panther form, and what she had kept herself from doing a moment again she now had no qualms against doing. She and Relinon touched noses and nuzzled into each other’s necks. Alurel felt the tiger’s deep, rumbling purr, and could feel the predatory power contained in their body. Yet she felt completely safe and…
And known.
Until this moment her animal forms had been her secret. Her friends knew she could shape into animals, but she never discussed it, never even wanted them to see her shift. But here amongst the buffalo with one of her own people, she had no reason to hide. And she realized – her companions were her people, too. Jeral and Emric and Rhys and Shonasir were her family, and she did not have to hide from them. She wasn’t a half-elf that could turn into a panther and a crane. She was the panther and the crane. She was herself in whatever form she took, just as the tiger before her was truly Relinon.
A burst of exuberance filled Alurel, and she batted playfully at Relinon’s furry head. They batted away Alurel’s paws and soon they were frolicking together among the buffalo, who somehow knew these two predators in their midst were not a threat.
At length, the two cats came together for a final nuzzle. Returning to their humanoid shapes, Relinon touched their mouth, chest, and navel. Alurel did the same.
“Thank you,” she said. “I wish I could stay with you longer, but we must move on.”
“As must we,” Relinon said. “Another Kir saying: ‘All paths are both for going and coming.’ I’m sure we will meet again in this life or beyond Karanathan.”
“But I’m half-elven. I’m not going to Karanathan when I die.”
“I’m not convinced of that. If you can commune with animals, you can commune with the realm of deep magic. Fyara, Alurel of the Starfallen and the Oruana Kir, fyara.”
“Fyarana, Relinon.”
Alurel stood still as the herd of buffalo shuffled by her. Not a single one jostled her, and as the other Kir passed, they inclined their heads to their newfound kinswoman.
When the herd had moved off, Alurel’s companions approached her. No one spoke until Alurel took her eyes from the receding dust cloud.
“What did you do in there?” Emric asked.
Alurel took a long, cleansing breath, hugged herself around the middle, and said, “I realized who I am.”
twelve
Stormwater
At noon the next day, they crested a rise and saw the sea stretching out before them, a vast mirror for the cloud-dappled sky. Another hour of riding brought the party to the coastal village of Laneskathpar, where they stabled their horses and walked to a seaside bungalow set apart from the rest of town.
Shonasir led the way onto the porch and stopped at the door with their hand raised. Their fist hovered for a moment, indecisive. Then they rapped on the door twice in quick succession before reaching for the knob.
“Shineth?” Shonasir called. “Parirel?”
A voice came from within. “Is that my youngest?”
Shonasir remained on the porch and watched their shineth toss a pen onto a book in which they had been writing. They stood up and came to the door. “Shishon? What brings you home?”
“It’s a long story, Shineth. Come outside. Meet my friends.”
The older elf emerged from the house into the bright sunlight. They shared Shonasir’s light purple skin and wide, perceptive eyes. But their mouth was caught somewhere between a smile and a scowl.
“Shineth, this is Alurel, Emric, Jeral, and Rhys.”
They all waved and nodded in greeting, but said nothing due to the obvious tension in the air between the two elves.
“Friends, this is my shineth, Darakin.”
Darakin inclined their head ever so slightly, then rounded on Shonasir. “So, the school up north was not to your liking after all then?”
The way they said the word ‘school’ made it sound like a curse. As one unit, Shonasir’s companions backed up and off the porch. There was no plausible way for them to leave earshot, but they busied themselves looking out to sea. Alurel even made a show of pointing and stage-whispering about Starfall being that direction.
Shonasir felt their cheeks flush as the blood rushed to their head. “School is very much to my liking, thank you. But I’m taking a break for the time being to do some field research.”
“Sure you are. Leaving again, following the wind wherever it will take you. The name your raneth gave you is fitting, Shishon.”
Another curse on the word raneth. Shonasir knew Darakin did not particularly like their choice of raneth, but they did not expect such a disrespectful tone. Perhaps they just caught their shineth at a bad moment.
Shonasir threw up their hands in a defensive gesture. “Look, Shineth, I didn’t come here to fight.”
But honestly, what did they expect. Neither Darakin nor their current spouse, Parirel, had supported Shonasir’s decision to go to the University of Sularil, so far away from Daen. Only their raneth, Ansilan, had been enthusiastic about their choice.
Darakin turned away from Shonasir and said under their breath. “My shoen all leave me. Even Selenel is gone for weeks at a time. Whatever happened to young elves staying with their shineeth for a hundred years before venturing off? Now I get barely thirty or forty before they abandon me, and you gave me even less.”
“You want me home, but you’re mad I’m here?” Shonasir snapped. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“What doesn’t make sense is you leaving your people when you could just as well do your research nearby.”
“I wanted a different –”
Shonasir clenched their teeth, biting off their words before they got sucked into another round of their interminable argument. “Look, I’m here now for a day or two. You can be happy about it and welcome me and my friends inside, or you can be sour and we’ll camp on the beach. Your call.”
Darakin looked over Shonasir’s shoulder. “A dwarf, a Kelenite, and a half-breed. Some friends.”
“Don’t you dare call Alurel –”
Shonasir bit off their words again. “Fine, the beach it is. Just answer me one question. Is Selenel in town?”
“I think so, not that they ever stop by to see me. Fishing, fishing, fishing, that’s all they do, but do they –”
“Stop it, Shineth. Just stop. Your shoen love you, we do. But our worlds don’t revolve –”
Shonasir let their words evaporate in a long sigh. “I’m glad to see your face, Shineth.” They switched to Elvish for formality’s sake. “Shayo va?” (How are you?)
Darakin’s eyes hardened and their mouth went placidly neutral. “Eskasha, Shishon.” (Less than well, my child.)
“Shanim va Parirel?” (How is Parirel?)
“Anasha.” (They are well.)
And with that, Shonasir had run out of questions that did not involve inane things like the temperature or the local gossip. So after a time of uncomfortable silence, they began backing away, saying, “We’ll be on the beach if you’d like to talk m
ore.”
“Tothfaelan.” (No and yes.) A noncommittal response. Then Darakin was inside and the door was closed.
Shonasir stood between the house and their friends, taking a moment to compose themselves. At length they tried on an ill-fitting smile and informed the others about their plans for beach camping.
“She seems lovely.” Jeral’s voice was edged keen with sarcasm.
“They, not she,” Shonasir corrected. “I know they look female to your eyes, but the Elvish language has no gender.”
“Halla Haeron goes by ‘she,’” Emric said.
“I’m not saying there aren’t elves who identify with a gender, but they tend to be ones who live outside of Daen – like Halla.”
“Apologies,” Jeral said. “They seem lovely.” This time he had taken a whetstone to his sarcasm.
“You don’t have to disparage them to make me feel better, but the sentiment is appreciated.”
The companions spent the rest of the day in leisure on the beach. Try as they might, they could not convince Emric to get in the water, not even to wade up to his ankles. He stayed on the beach playing his various instruments and keeping the gulls away from their gear. When night fell, they started a fire, sat on pieces of driftwood, and enjoyed each other’s company. No one spoke more about Shonasir’s parents, not even when Parirel arrived home and was whisked inside by Darakin before Parirel could acknowledge the beachgoers.
The next day, Shonasir led their friends to the docks of Laneskathpar. “There it is, the Freedom’s Wake. That’s lucky.”
The old trawler was nothing special to look at, but it appeared sturdily built, a real veteran of the seas.
“Whose boat is that?” Rhys asked.
“It belongs to my sibling Selenel. They are a fisher, like so many in the village. Selenel is the only one of my siblings who still lives here.”
“I gathered as much from your mother’s – pardon, your shineth’s – mention of them yesterday.”
“Selenel can be a bit…” Shonasir trailed off, trying to find the right word. “Prickly. They’re the only fisher I know who fishes all alone. They like it that way, so our request might be a little complicated.” They nodded down the pier. “Here they come.”