by M S C Barnes
“That’s enough, Zach,” Trudy barked at him, following him up the steps.
“I’ll help you, Zach,” Lily said, laughing, and jumped up.
“Oh, not you My Lady,” he said, snorting and placed the trays on a nearby table as she joined him. “You mind those old, brittle bones; don’t want any breakages now, do we?”
“So, don’t be rude, and you won’t get any,” she chuckled, then pecked him on the cheek as he handed her a cup.
Reynard and The Caretaker appeared from below stairs.
“The soup will be ten minutes,” Reynard said and Henri nodded his thanks.
A general bustle began as the group members hurried over to take the coffees Zach doled out. Everyone except Nicole’s group members; they all sat quietly, staring at the floor, looking as though they didn’t feel they belonged.
Aelfric approach them. Georges and Jean-Paul physically flinched and Yvette and Emile simply stared up at him as if they knew what was about to come. Standing over them, he regarded them thoughtfully before speaking quietly.
“One person does not define a group. None of you have anything to be ashamed of and none of you are to blame for tonight’s events.” He turned and looked over at Jacqueline and Philippe who had also not moved. “None of you,” he repeated.
Henri, nodding, stood and, still holding onto Moe, addressed the whole room.
“It is easy, with hindsight,” he looked at Zach, “to believe that we would have behaved differently were we walking in the shoes of another; but without actually having done so, you cannot ever possibly understand what led them to their actions. Aelfric and I have discussed this. We could — and will, if anyone requires it — now conduct a full review,” he said, looking around at them all. “But we believe it best that this night, and all that led up to it, is simply put behind us.” He gazed at Jacqueline and Philippe who nodded eagerly and then at each of Nicole’s group members. “There is one caveat, however,” he said almost angrily. “No-one is permitted to judge or question the actions of any other person or Dryad here. So whilst Aelfric says none are to blame for past events, you will be blamed for any future actions or words that indicate you have cast judgement on someone else. Do you all accept that?” After considering his words, everyone around the room, including Zach, nodded. Everyone except Yvette. She suddenly stood up.
Seb could see her aura vibrating with what appeared to be anger.
“I cannot accept that, Henri,” she said and then turned to Aelfric. Aelfric regarded her calmly, waving Trudy and The Caretaker away who, sensing Yvette’s aggression, had stepped towards him. “I cannot simply put tonight behind us, dismissing what has happened,” Yvette turned to glare at Seb, “without saying that I, and the rest of my group, are so sorry for our part in the pain and suffering you were both caused. We were wrong.” She shook her head and closed her eyes. “If we had known the truth of the events at the Hurlers, if we had known the truth about the practices Nicole was using, we would never have supported her.” She lowered her head and added quietly, “I am so very sorry.” Emile stood up and wrapped his arms around her.
“We are all sorry,” he said looking from Seb to Aelfric.
Aelfric looked saddened.
“It is for this very reason Henri and I did not wish to engage in a review,” he mumbled and then spoke more firmly, “Before you knew the truth about the events at the Hurlers and what Nicole was doing, you acted according to your roles, in support of your Custodian. When you knew the truth, you followed your consciences. How can that be cause for apology? If you choose to judge yourselves, I cannot prevent that, but do so in the knowledge that we are not judging you. Your assessment at the time was simply different to ours because you did not have all the information that was available; that doesn’t make it, or you, wrong. There is no blame.”
“Did he just quote me?” Zach muttered into the silence that followed. “I think he did. Did he?” he looked at Seb. Scarlet tutted.
For a moment Yvette stared at Aelfric as if unsure what to say. Then Trudy strode over and, standing in front of her, took hold of her hand.
“I cannot imagine the sadness you feel at losing your Custodian,” she said, glancing at Aelfric and back, “and I cannot help take that sadness away. But you need to know that I am in utter admiration of your bravery, remaining when you could, and should, have left. I was honoured to fight beside you tonight.” She gave the slightest bow, let go of Yvette’s hand and walked back over to Zach.
“And me? I was brave too,” he said. “Don’t I get a bow and a hand-hold? Cos I think I deserve them.”
“You got yourself stuck in a tomb as I understand it,” Trudy mumbled to him.
“Oh now the criticism starts!” he complained. “Maybe we should have that review; I know who would come out looking the best, Little Miss Hop-along.” He handed a cup of coffee to Aelfric. “Here you go, Aelfric,” he said, “You’ll be safe drinking this; Greg and Trudy had no hand in making it.”
Greg jumped and his cup rattled on his saucer as everyone stared at him, but then he sighed, raised his cup to Zach, and shrugged.
“He really is always like this, isn’t he?” Reynard said to Trudy and she nodded sadly as Zach wandered over and handed a cup of coffee to Seb.
Seb had been watching and listening the whole time and, whilst the bickering between Zach and Trudy lightened the atmosphere in the room, he was still immensely sad. He could see a shadow flitting restlessly between the spectacle of the fairies’ movements above them. And he knew what it was. Though what he could do about it, he didn’t know.
Henri walked back towards Lotty, but as he reached half way, Jean-Paul asked nervously, “So what happens now?”
“Now?” Henri said, turning, surprised by the question. “Now, we have soup.”
Jean-Paul exchanged uncertain glances with Georges and Emile, and then said, “But what happens to us now?”
Henri faced them and considered the question for a few moments, stroking Moe all the while. Then he spoke carefully.
“She was your Custodian and you will feel all manner of emotions on her passing. Where I can help you with that, I will,” he said. “The fact that your direct Custodian is no longer here though does not make any of you less of an important part in our groups as a whole. I would be honoured to have each of you continue in service with me, but I understand if any or all of you should choose to end your service. Today is the solstice and so later you will have that opportunity. For now,” he smiled, “we have soup.” Reynard nodded and waved everyone towards the stairs.
“Reynard, Morgan, we will need you to stay for a moment,” Henri said and the two, without any questions, stopped where they were.
“Over to you then, Zach,” Reynard called and Zach, protesting, trudged down the steps after Trudy.
“I am not washing up, My Lady!” he stated.
Half A Soul
Henri handed Lotty into Philippe’s care and, with Aelfric, waited while the large group descended to the room below. Seb hung back too.
“You understand then?” Aelfric asked him.
“Yes,” Seb answered, sadly.
“Has Alice witnessed all that happened?” Henri asked him.
“Yes,” Seb said, uncertainly, worried now that maybe he wasn’t supposed to have shown Alice.
“Then you shall remain too,” Henri said to Alice who simply nodded and stood quietly beside Seb.
The ringing footfalls on the metal staircase stopped and sounds of light-hearted conversation began to drift up from the floor below — a stark contrast to the sombre atmosphere in this room.
Alice, Dæved and Dierne all looked troubled and as the three Custodians gathered near the large mirror, they zoomed up to hover over it, their leaves daubed in the multicoloured light from the fairies’ wings. Reynard and The Caretaker stood to one side, watching in silence.
“What can we do?” Seb asked, looking up to where the shadow flitted amongst the fairies.
�
�We can relay a message,” Henri answered. “Riven,” he called quietly.
The shadow froze and, after a moment, took on form. Riven appeared, hovering beside Alice, who instantly turned away from him — averting his eyes — and for good reason. Seb himself had to suppress a gasp. Every leaf covering Riven’s body had withered and curled and turned brown. Like the last stubborn leaves on a tree, that refuse to allow the autumn winds to tear them from their branches, they still clung to him, but they were dry and lifeless. The ravages of Riven’s body, however, were nothing compared to the expression of pure anguish on his face, and Seb nearly cried. He was looking at a Dryad who not only had to bear the grief of the loss of his twin soul, but had to do so in the knowledge that that twin’s love for another soul had meant that she would rather have faced an eternity of desolation than remain with him. Her death would always have been emotionally crippling for Riven, but Nicole’s public confirmation that she did not feel enough love for him to remain in this world was the cruellest and most humiliating thing she could have done to him.
Seb stared at Riven feeling helpless, and angry at Nicole.
And then Henri, his voice cracking, spoke again. “Oh Riven, I am so sorry to have left this to the last — it should have been done first — but we needed time and privacy,” he said, lowering his head, “and for me to know that, what I am about to do is not wrong. I have had to consult with Aelfric and Dæved because I was unsure.
“The Legacy of a Custodian is the imprint they leave from their years of service; it is what they will be known for in their existence as an Elf or remembered for if banished. For a witnessing Custodian to divulge the details of a Legacy, other than to the Elf Gathering, is forbidden. For this reason, I have been struggling with my conscience.” He stopped as if still undecided. In the end, Aelfric prompted him.
“See him, Henri. You are not wrong.”
Nodding, Henri stood straighter. “Riven,” he said, “As you know, at the point of a Custodian’s passing, their Legacy is displayed to the Custodians in their connected groups who then determine the fate of their soul — transcendence to become an Elf or, very rarely, banishment. There are no alternatives. Nicole though, passed in very unique circumstances. Before her body died, she had lost her status as a Custodian and become simply human. Her Legacy was still displayed to me, but instead of the normal choices for her soul — banishment or transcendence — because she was effectively human, I had only the choices of banishment or sending her to rest.” He sighed. “Something within her Legacy told me that the latter was the appropriate fate for her soul. And it is that something which I feel it necessary to share with you and those present. By doing so, not only do I hope to console you in your grief, I also hope to ensure that her Legacy — not her reputation — endures amongst those who would understand rather than judge.”
Still not looking at Riven, Henri continued. “Nicole’s Legacy included all the things the Prefect of the Witan listed, and they are nothing more, or less than we ourselves witnessed. But there was something far more important within it — remorse. In her final moments, she utterly regretted everything she had done.
“Just as we look for remorse when we read an asrai soul, so I saw remorse in her. It was the overwhelming emotion, bar one, and it was the thing that told me her soul could and should be sent to rest.” And now Henri raised his head and looked directly at Riven. “But Riven, there was one other emotion in her Legacy that eclipsed even that — and that was love!” Seb saw Riven flinch. He himself was stunned. He couldn’t understand why Henri would feel it necessary to say that to the forsaken Dryad. Nicole’s love for Heath had driven her to the deeds and actions she had taken, and had been more important to her than even her Dryad twin. To speak it was a cruelty Seb couldn’t comprehend — nor could he see how it was supposed to console Riven.
Reynard, Dæved, Dierne and The Caretaker remained expressionless, whatever thoughts they had, they kept to themselves. Alice glanced sadly at Seb then looked back at the floor. Aelfric’s reaction, however, baffled Seb more than Henri’s words — he smiled —as though satisfied.
Now Henri took a step closer to the mirror. “Riven,” he said, softly, “Nicole’s was a Legacy of love — for you! At the moment of her death, I misinterpreted the last words she spoke; I believe that we all did. She said desolation was all she knew and then she said: ‘I have failed him. And, without him, I now realise I am just half a soul.’ She was speaking of you Riven, not Heath. In her last moments she suddenly realised what she had done and she felt she had betrayed you, alienated you, lost you. She was desolate because she could not see you ever forgiving her and could not contemplate life without you; you were her world. In witnessing her Legacy I saw a soul filled with love and remorse and that soul was worthy of another chance.
“I may have just broken a Custodian Cardinal Rule in speaking of this, but if I do not share what I witnessed, then, because her soul has gone to rest, I alone would know the truth and, fuelled by hearsay, misinterpretation, speculation and narrow-minded judgement, her last actions would become her Legacy. More importantly, though, I believe that you need to know how she felt about you and what her true Legacy was.” He fell silent — and Riven fell to the mirrored floor.
Instantly Dæved swooped down and lifted him up. He carried him to one of the sofas and placed him gently on it. Henri, hurrying over, knelt beside him.
“Do not see me,” Riven whispered and, as the others turned their backs, Dæved covered him with the blanket Henri had used for Lotty.
“His leaves,” Dæved said, sounding grief-stricken. “He cannot breathe.”
“I am half a soul,” Riven said, as though speaking in his sleep. “Without her, half a soul.”
Seb felt a tear run down his cheek as he faced the glass wall and watched the twinkling lights of the town below.
“What do you need?” Henri asked Riven. “How can I help?”
“I have what I needed,” Riven mumbled. “Though I leave this life with guilt, I leave it happy too.”
“Guilt? What guilt?” Dæved demanded, so upset it made him sound harsh.
“I told her I could not stand by her. I deserted her …” Riven’s voice trailed off and several leaves fell from his body onto the floor where they crumbled to dust.
“Riven,” Henri said, “It was those words — the stand that you took — that caused her to begin to see the errors she had made. If you had not spoken them, she may never have felt the remorse she did at the end. Believing she had lost you made her realise that you were the one who completed her soul, not Heath.”
Seb, unable to help himself, had turned around. He couldn’t bear to just keep facing the window, staring at the criss-cross of cheerful street lights below that spoke so clearly of the continuation of everyday life, when this Dryad’s life appeared to be ebbing away.
Riven had closed his eyes. He looked barely recognisable. Though the blanket covered his body, Seb could see the leaves on his head, the skin on his face — all were shrivelled and dry. He glanced at Alice, who looked so vibrant and healthy, his leaves shining with the rainbow colours of the reflections from the fairies’ wings, and then back at Riven who appeared to be deteriorating by the second. More leaves fell to the floor and turned to dust.
Something compelled Seb to move closer; he took a couple of tentative steps, his heart heavy. Aelfric, who had been watching him, nodded encouragement. Then, for the first time since they had entered the room, Alice suddenly spoke into his mind.
“Seb, Dæved had asked me and Dierne to remain silent since we got here, in case Riven decided to speak to one of us. We were all hoping he would, but now I don’t believe he can. Riven is dying. Dierne and Dæved know what you did for me. They are asking if you can help him. Can you try?”
Nodding uncertainly, Seb walked over to Henri and kneeling beside the sofa mumbled to him, “I think I can help.”
Without waiting for permission, he removed the blanket from Riven and placed both
his hands on his chest. He felt the slightest jolt of electricity and the leaves crunched and crumbled beneath his fingers. Riven’s eyes opened. A momentary look of surprise crossed his wizened features but was then replaced by sadness. As heat began to pour from Seb’s hands into Riven, Riven suddenly mustered the strength from somewhere and pushed them away.
“Let me die,” he rasped.
Seb was heartbroken; he was sure now that he had the ability to heal Riven’s body, but how could he possibly take away the grief of a soul who felt he had lost half of himself? Even knowing that Nicole had loved him, Riven still couldn’t be with her. She was a human soul now, who had been sent to rest. When she returned, it would be to live a new human life and soul amnesia would mean that she would be unaware of his existence. He had lost her and was now lost himself. Seb looked around at the other Dryads in the room. They shook their heads, unable to help.
And then Aelfric stepped forward. Crouching beside Riven, he placed a hand on his arm and spoke softly.
“You need to understand something.” Riven stared at him, looking bereft. “Nicole’s soul was sent to rest as a human soul. But, as is the way for those human souls who have served within the groups, her soul consciousness knows too much for her to return as a human and Nature will move her on to the next realm. Nicole will return as a Dryad.” Riven’s eyes opened wide and, beneath the grief, there was hope. “So now you need to understand something else. If you allow this Dryad host body to die,” Aelfric pointed at Riven’s chest, “your soul will be released and you also will move to the next realm, the next soul state. You cannot return as a Dryad.” Riven glanced up at the fairies above them. Aelfric’s message was obvious; if Riven died now, he would not be reunited with Nicole; he would return to his next life as a fairy and she would return to hers as a Dryad. If, however, he lived, she would return as a Dryad and he could, possibly, meet her soul again. “You need to live, Riven,” Aelfric said.