Derlin was nervous throughout the ride, but he began to calm down when Valena wrapped her cool, soft arms around his waist to avoid falling off. He began to wish that the ride would never end.
The Creator apparently had more pressing issues to attend to at the moment, and consequently the ride did end. Derlin dismounted, then grabbed Valena’s hand and helped her to dismount. They walked over to the middle of the secluded clearing and Derlin pointed to a strange looking species of flower. “What’s that flower?” he tried to ask as nonchalantly as possible.
Valena seemed puzzled. “What? I’ve never seen that flower before.” As she went over to take a closer look, the flower opened up and a small roll of parchment was revealed. Valena took the parchment, unfolded it, and read.
To the one whose beauty is endless like the stars,
This night is dedicated to you and you alone
Relax, dear, and enjoy your dinner.
“It must be for you,” Derlin said, blushing. Yeah, it was sad, he reflected, but he couldn’t come up with any better poetry than that. Oh well, it would have to do.
Valena smiled, confused. “Enjoy your dinner?” she questioned. Derlin turned around and where before there had been only an empty clearing, now there was a tree stump with an elegant white tablecloth spread across it. On the table were the finest foods of the elven kingdom, prepared almost to perfection by Tarthur and Derlin themselves. Accompanying this was a bottle of elderberry wine, a delicacy even for an elven princess. “Oh,” Valena gasped. “You picked all of my favorite foods.” Derlin had spent the weeks attending on Valena’s every word, finding out which dishes she liked, how she liked them prepared, and had made everything exactly to her liking, even down to the right amount of herb seasonings.
The meal was superb. Derlin didn’t know it at the time, but Tarthur had even put a little magic into it to taste it. Nevertheless, the boys had never cooked a better feast. They had even had a little help from Suie, one of Valena’s maids, who was an excellent cook. Yvonne hid in the shadows and played the violin, adding a perfect touch to the meal. Whenever something was needed, it floated in from the forest and landed perfectly on the table. Two intertwining Poeloe plants grew up around where they sat and sprayed their delicious and sensuous aroma into the night. Everything was unfolding perfectly.
After dinner, they lay out in the clearing and watched the stars. “I want to thank you for a wonderful night, Derlin. I will truly remember this night for as long as I live. Yet, I want to ask you something. Why did you go to all this trouble just for me? I have taught you much about my people, but I remain ignorant about your customs. Do you often do this for your friends?”
Derlin waited a moment before replying, letting her words soak in so he could fully appreciate the beauty of her voice. In that moment, crickets began to chirp musically, filling the air with their sweet harmony. That hadn’t been part of the plan, but he had to admit it was a nice touch. It appeared that the Big Guy Upstairs might even be helping him out. “Valena,” he began. “You must understand that you are a very special friend to me. No, I would not do this for just anyone.”
“But why me?” she continued. “It’s not as if I’m…” Derlin put a finger to his lips and pointed skyward. “Watch there,” he whispered.
The stars in the sky glittered in their places for a moment, and then began to change. Some became brighter, some twinkled out of existence, and some began to move. They swirled around and then began to form a shape. It was pointy at the bottom, and soon Valena saw what it would become; Tarthur had made the stars into a heart. Inscribed in the heart were the intertwined names Derlin and Valena. Derlin turned his head towards her and softly but firmly said, “Because I love you, Valena.”
Valena collapsed her head in her hands and began to cry. “What’s wrong?” Derlin said, worried. “What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing,” Valena sobbed. “You’re the sweetest, nicest, best person I know, and I would love to be with you.”
“What’s the problem, then?” Derlin asked, confused.
“I’m already betrothed to Hano. We’re getting married in six months.”
* * *
The sound of running water that woke him made Yonathan want to go to the bathroom. Even before he opened his eyes, he could sense the peacefulness and tranquility of the place he was in. He did not remember how he had gotten there or why he had come. An overwhelming sacredness permeated the place, and his memory came back in a rush. He hoped Lithar had not defeated him and sent him to the Eternal Vale. Fearfully, he opened his eyes. He was in a room with white walls and a white ceiling. His bed was warm, but a cool breeze came through the window. An oak door was shut on the opposite side of the room. At this point Yonathan remembered that he did not know what the Eternal Vale looked or felt like, so he wouldn’t know if he were there or not. It certainly felt like a holy place. Yonathan could take it no longer, though. He had to get up and find an outhouse or at least a tree. As he got to his feet, he felt a dizzying sensation fill his head and force him to sit down again. He eventually made it to the door only to find that it was locked. In desperation, he searched around until he found a bedpan, and then used that. The sound of the trickling of water was all around him. Feeling much better, Yonathan went back to sleep.
When he woke up again a small man came into his room, and informed him that he was not, in fact, dead, but rather very much alive and at the holy spring of Treshin. He had been brought there by advance riders from Cilio’s army and had almost died twice in the first week. His wounds had not been bad and had in fact almost healed, but the poison he had been infected with was extremely potent. Yonathan had been very lucky to live. The miracle workers at Treshin were the best in the world, but even they had almost been unable to save Yonathan.
Yonathan had wanted to set out for the king’s army in the north as soon as he healed, but he was stopped by another transient resident of Treshin. Kandan Ironsmith had been there ever since the battle of Freeton. He had been charred and burned and his injuries were healing very slowly. So Yonathan had decided to stay and help nurse his friend back to health. Kandan’s injuries had been more serious, and he had not yet risen from his bed. Although most of his wounds would heal fully in time, his right arm had to be amputated.
Yonathan sat on a wooden stool next to his friend. Kandan was now sitting up in bed, and the priests had just come in to change the dressings on his wounds. Infection was a constant danger once the skin was broken. Everything at Treshin was kept clean, and special salves and dressings were applied to the bandages to help the injuries heal.
Yonathan sat on Kandan’s right and fed him soup. The spoons were deeper than usual, and Yonathan only filled it halfway so as not to spill any on his friend. Hot soup on his friend’s burns would cause a lot of pain. The list of things Kandan could do for himself was growing every day, but he was still having to learn how to use his left hand. It didn’t yet have the required dexterity to eat soup, and the soup was a key component of the healers’ regimen. Yonathan himself had consumed numerous bowls, and he had to admit that the flavor wasn’t bad, especially considering the copious amounts of healthy things that must be crammed into it. Maybe they had added magic to help with the taste.
Kandan smiled. “Thank you, my friend. It isn’t easy getting used to doing things with my left hand.”
Yonathan returned the smile. “You will learn, in time.”
Kandan’s brows furrowed in thought. “It does make me wonder a bit, about him.”
Yonathan didn’t need to ask who the pronoun referred to. “How so?”
“Well, he certainly was strong, for a person.” Kandan spoke, searching for the right words. “But he never seemed like he was that powerful, I mean for an evil wizard. He wasn’t anything compared to those we will face later on. Yet, the spell he wove, to control our entire town. Just learning to use my left arm for things has convinced me that was no small task.”
Yonathan thought about it for a
minute. “I always felt like he was controlling only my higher mind, not telling my individual muscles what to do. I don’t think his magic had to tell our lungs to breath or our hearts to beat. I think that those things were accomplished on their own.”
“Whatever the case,” Kandan spoke, putting the matter to rest. “It doesn’t matter now. Perhaps some things are better forgotten. Knowing that he is destroyed is one of the few things that helps me sleep at night. Your defeat of Lithar is another thing that eases my heavy heart.”
“We all did what we could,” Yonathan was unwilling to take credit. If he was really a great warrior he would have stopped his town from being destroyed in the first place. Yonathan stood up to leave. “Speaking of rest, I should let you get some more. The healers here are surprisingly fierce when someone deviates from their prescription.”
Yonathan continued to nurse Kandan back to health and little by little, Yonathan’s own nightmares eased. All the while, Cilio’s regiment advanced northward and the Death Lord readied his troops for a final showdown.
* * *
In the days following the failed plan, neither Tarthur nor Yvonne had been able to rouse Derlin from his melancholy. He had stayed in the tree that the elven authorities had loaned to Tarthur and Derlin and he had sulked around inside. The only one who was able to get him to say a few words was Dalin, who had come in on the second day. He had tried to explain things to Derlin; Valena had told him everything. He explained that while he thought Derlin was an extraordinary boy, elven custom required her to wed someone of noble birth.
“Hano is my very dear friend,” he explained. Derlin already hated the man. “Hano and I have been friends since childhood. He is very proud of his elven heritage and is a very smart and courageous warrior. I think he will make a fine match with my sister.”
“I don’t like him already,” Derlin countered. “I don’t care how courageous he is.”
“Derlin,” Dalin reminded him softly. “You cannot hate someone for trying to do what you wish to do also. If anything, you should admire his good taste.”
Derlin nodded grudgingly. He didn’t want to listen to reason, didn’t want to believe Dalin. He just felt like hating Hano at the moment, but he knew that Dalin was right.
“I guess later I’ll be able to accept him, right now I’m just angry. I do want her to be happy, and I guess she’s out of my league anyway, as long as she really loves him…” He trailed off and looked at Dalin for an answer.
The elf prince turned his head away. “She wasn’t asked.”
After nearly a week of sulking, Derlin was ready to put the incident behind him, at least outwardly, and begin life normally again. News of Cilio’s courageous and narrow victory had come from the south, with the army not far behind. Tarthur and Derlin had each shed a tear for Freeton. It seemed strange to the boys that the entire town was gone. It seemed so removed, like if they were to travel south they would find the town intact and all the people still alive. Those people, whom Tarthur and Derlin had only a few months ago saved, were already dead and would never see the world again. It made all view the coming struggle with the Death Lord with apprehension.
Derlin had seen Hano in a chance meeting with the army. They had both walked up to talk to Dalin simultaneously, and the elf prince had no choice but to reintroduce them. Derlin had already met Hano once in Tealsburg, but didn’t remember him very well. The coldness in Hano’s eyes startled Derlin. He could tell Hano was furious at him for trying what he did. It seemed to Derlin that the whole of the elven kingdom had heard about it. Tarthur had only given the illusion of rearranging the stars, and not actually done it, for such a thing was well beyond his fledgling powers; consequently, only a few elves had heard about it, and were keeping it secret. But to Derlin it seemed like everyone knew. In Hano’s eyes and in his voice was more than just anger at one trying for his future wife. Hano cared very much about Valena, that is sure, but while he had a fiery temper, he was at times cold toward her. He tried everything he could, and indeed, he had thought he made her happy.
When he went to see her the day after Derlin’s plan, though, he saw something new in her eyes and face. It was beautiful; it was a love of life and a tender joy that he had never been able to unlock. Even though he knew the old elven rules were like iron, and he had a firm lock on wedding Valena, he still felt uneasy and threatened by this boy. It was a fear that he would marry Valena and love her all of his life, but that her love would be for someone else. He could control everything about her, except her heart. Oh, he knew very well that she liked him and respected him, that she would be a faithful wife, do anything he asked of her, even give her life for him, and he knew he would do the same for her. Hano feared nothing more in life than going to sleep with her many years from their wedding day, and seeing her turn away from his body to gaze out at the stars, hoping for a duplication of that feat of so many years ago. It tore him up inside. Hano felt as if this human had come to take everything he had ever worked for, and destroy it.
Accordingly, their meeting was composed of a few unmeant pleasantries, no mention of the most important thing in both of their lives, and cordially worded goodbyes in a bitter tone. Fortunately for them, advance units from the army had already arrived and the bulk of the army would be arriving for the next day or so. They would have a few days for rest and resupplying, and then they would be off to attack the Death Lord’s hopefully unmobilized forces and steal the Water Orb. In the business of war, they could forget the personal issues until after.
Finally the rest of the army arrived, and everyone was in Breshen: King Garkin, General Cilio, Zelin, Addyean, Tarthur, Derlin, Yvonne, Dalin, Yan, Sir Terin, and all of the knights. The only one missing was Yonathan, who was still at Treshin. Tarthur and Derlin were praying for his recovery. Once the army arrived, there was much to talk about. Zelin revealed that the Rune Sword had unexpectedly become hot during the time of the battle with Marhyn. A common soldier had said that Yonathan had suddenly pointed the sword at the real Lithar and then charged him. The sword had glowed white-hot. Zelin was extremely interested in this, because it seemed that the Rune Sword was giving some of its power to discern truth to the Light Sword. Such a transfer among weapons of power had been theorized, but had never been observed before. If it had happened, then it meant that they shared something in the way that they were made, and maybe had other similarities as well.
Derlin was armed with the Light Sword, on specific instructions from Yonathan, and General Cilio had agreed. Derlin would be in the front. Tarthur, who very much wanted to fight, would be in the middle, in the most protected spot in the army. He was assigned a contingent of three bodyguards to be with him at all times. They would be the ones, along with Yan, who would make the assault on Darhyn’s castle to recover the Water Orb if they got the chance. Tarthur kept a copy of the spell with him at all times, Zelin kept another copy, and they had left one in Breshen and one at the capital. They had carefully chosen how many copies to make because they couldn’t chance one falling into the wrong hands, yet at the same time they didn’t want to lose the ones they had.
Derlin went to bid farewell to Valena before they departed. He waited outside her tree until he saw Hano and Dalin exit, and then knowing she would be alone, stepped inside. A cool, woody smell emanated from the room. The door to Valena’s room was open, so Derlin knocked softly on the oak as he stuck his head inside. Valena looked up quickly, and Derlin could tell she had been crying.
“Perhaps I should come back later,” he said hurriedly, already on his way out. Valena stopped him with a distant sounding word. “No, I guess it’s better to
get it over with all at one time. Goodbyes are so horrible sometimes.”
“You’re going to miss him very much, aren’t you?” No one needed to be told who him referred to.
Valena nodded softly. In her sadness, Derlin thought she looked more beautiful than ever and he felt another ache in his heart. “We have known each other since we were child
ren. We were born only one month apart. Ever since we were young, we’ve known that we were meant for each other.”
Derlin nodded back. “It must be very special to know someone your whole life and then share everything with them in marriage.”
“When I was a little girl,” Valena continued, and Derlin almost thought that she hadn’t heard him. “I used to play with Hano and my brother, although he was always older, almost every day. Yet I wondered why it was so empty, I love Hano as a friend, but I never felt something special, like I felt with you that night. I always thought that it was just because I was too young, and later I wondered if such a feeling ever existed. I have read about it, in stories of long ago.”
“Oh, Derlin,” she sighed, looking through his eyes and into his soul. “It felt like my heart melted and I felt lightheaded and it was the most wonderful feeling in the world!” Then she sighed and looked sadly away. “Yet, apparently, it was not meant for me.”
“Well,” Derlin suggested, “you can always come with me, after the war. We can make our own lives. It’s not up to some rules made long ago for no good reason.”
Valena was almost mad. “You don’t see it, Derlin. There is no way out of it for me. And even if there were, I am not sure I could just leave Hano and run away with you. I don’t even know you! How can you say you know me even? You have known me for only a few weeks, yet you think you want to spend the rest of your life with me? There is more than love in a marriage. There is respect, admiration, and security. And traditions are not traditions because they are observed only when convenient. Traditions are traditions because they are never broken. Never.”
“It’s just a feeling I felt, the first time I saw you, Valena, and if you could feel only a tenth, no a hundredth of what I’m feeling now then I would have no trouble convincing you, you would know it for sure in your heart. Think with your heart, not with your head.”
Lands of Daranor: Book 01 - DreamQuest Page 28