by Steven Drake
“He called me Mirisa Algalon,” Miri said tentatively, almost whispering. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” Darien said. “Algalon is an elven name. I think I’ve seen it somewhere before, but I can’t recall exactly where. It might have been a fairly common name for all I know.” He scratched his chin. “I don’t understand why they were ordered not to touch you. Ordinarily, the Shades target anyone with magical talent. They usually try to recruit the target first, but if that fails, they eliminate the target. It doesn’t make sense that they would be ordered to leave someone alone.”
“Could he have been lying?”
“No,” Darien said. “At least not consciously. I suppose he might have been given a false memory, but why would they have gone to the trouble, and how would they have known someone capable of domination would interrogate him? I don’t understand it, but it seems the Shades know something about your identity, and whatever it is, it must be the reason they were ordered not to harm you.”
“I have to talk to Elira. If he’s done something with our father, I have to do something. I have to stop this.” Zitane started pacing back and forth just outside the cell. Miri wanted to be concerned, but hearing about a possible clue to her true identity had consumed her attention.
“We have a lot to think about,” Darien said. “Let’s take the remainder of today to handle the present situation. Zitane, explain to Elira what we learned. I would advise keeping her loyal soldiers here in the city, if Kellan approves.” The bearded hunter nodded. He still seemed rather in shock. “Those loyal to the prince should be isolated, and watched. I need to inspect them all personally, to be sure none of them are compromised.”
“What about me?” Miri asked.
“I’ll leave that up to you,” Darien said. “You may accompany me as I examine the soldiers for enchantments, and let me know which ones are most hostile. Still, it’s understandable if you’re too distracted.”
“No, I’ll be fine.” Miri wished she actually was as confident as she sounded. “I want to stay with you.” That much was indisputably true at least.
The process of investigating the elves lasted well into the afternoon. The soldiers had followed Elira’s instructions, and the camps were widely scattered outside the walls. Surprisingly few of them were truly loyal to Zandrek. Most of them would have preferred to stay home rather than trudging through the snow in the wilderness. A few seemed hostile, but none of them seemed truly dangerous. Darien found no further magic beyond a few items carried by Zandrek himself and a few of his more loyal men, but nothing significant or truly dangerous. The most troubling fact was that perhaps a dozen men were missing. Darien guessed that they had either returned to report the prince’s capture, or fled for their own reasons. Darien had Kellan send out search parties, but there wasn’t much more that could be done.
After the investigation was over, Miri returned to her room, only to find most of her things missing. She shook her head. Of course, they took them over to Darien’s cave. Miri tensed slightly at the idea of sleeping in the same room with him.
“Are you well, sister?” Mirisa turned to see Zitane behind her. “I understand it will be difficult, but it’s just for a little while.” Zitane drew himself up and adopted a serious look. “You will tell me if he tries anything,” Zitane asked seriously. “It isn’t that I don’t trust him, but most men in his position… well.”
“He isn’t most men,” Mirisa said calmly. “I don’t think there’s anything to worry about. I’m not sure he could if he wanted to.”
“Why do you say that?”
“It’s just a feeling. I don’t think he wants anyone to get close to him.”
“Well, be careful,” Zitane said. “We still know very little about him, and I still don’t quite trust him. He’s still hiding things.”
“I will, and I’ll eventually get him to tell me everything. I just have to be patient.”
The evening came quickly, and they ate with Elira and a few of her officers in the lodge. Zitane spent most of the meal asking about Catarina, learning as much he could about the situation. Perhaps halfway through the meal, Elira quieted and turned to Mirisa while Zitane was discussing something with Kellan.
“Congratulations.” She smiled. “He seems a decent enough man, if somewhat more subdued than I expected you would choose.” For a moment, Miri stared confusedly back, until it finally occurred to her. Elira thought Darien had really taken the vows with her. She quickly recovered, and turned away, trying to cover her shock with embarrassment.
“He’s fascinating,” Miri managed to say, the best compliment she could come up with quickly. Best to change the subject. “I expected you would mistrust his magic.”
“I would be lying if I said I were comfortable with it, and I would probably still feel the same about magic as I once did were it not for you.” Elira sighed. “I know you, and I can’t imagine you as evil, nor a power like your healing ever coming from demons. Anyway, it appears we need his expertise if we’re to understand what’s happening in Catarina.” Mirisa smiled. The support meant a lot, and Miri regretted having to be so deceptive.
After the meal, everyone dispersed. Darien left rather early and Miri followed him. Once they passed the city gates, he turned around.
“What are you doing following me?” Darien said. “Did you need something?” He already forgot, hardly surprising. Miri frowned and put her hands on her hips grumpily. Darien soon realized what was going on and grumbled. “Oh, yes I forgot. Damn but this is inconvenient.” How polite of him, Miri thought. Not as if I’ll enjoy living in a cave for who knows how long. Darien shook his head and set off again.
The walk took a few more minutes of awkward silence, before they finally arrived at Darien’s door. Inside, Miri found most of her clothes neatly folded and stacked on the top of Darien’s bookshelf. A hair brush, small mirror, and a few other belongings had been set on the desk. They had managed to squeeze her plush rocking chair through the passage somehow as well, and Miri was immensely grateful for that. Still, the entire situation felt strange. Though she had been in this room nearly every day for the past few months, she still felt uncomfortable now. Darien eyed her belongings with a look of unmistakable distaste.
“I apologize for the accommodations,” Darien said. “I didn’t expect to have a boarder.”
“Boarder?”
“Well, what would you call this arrangement, Princess Mirisa?”
“We’re supposed to be engaged.” Miri grinned and put her hands on her hips, almost teasing, anything to break this tension. Darien squinted curiously, then chuckled dryly.
“Well I suppose being engaged is better than being killed at least,” Darien countered with a barb of his own. Miri forced a laugh, but the implied distaste left her feeling almost insulted. He really doesn’t want me here, Miri thought. He fought for me, but I can’t tell if he cares at all. Why does everything have to be so difficult with him? Either way, he still did me a huge favor, and I should at least thank him.
Miri took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t joke. I know this isn’t an ideal situation. I mean, what you did for me today, with Zandrek, well, I guess what I mean is… Thank you.”
“It wasn’t just for you. A battle would have seen many casualties on both sides.” Darien paused a moment with a confused expression, then he softened. “But you’re welcome. Zandrek is a fool. I don’t know if he really loves you or whether he just wants you, but he shouldn’t get to force you into marriage simply because he’s a prince. You can make your own choices.”
Miri smiled weakly. He had at least accepted her thanks, albeit with qualifications. Miri found it easy to understand most people, but Darien seemed to almost defy explanation. She could read his hostility or lack thereof, pick up subtle clues when he was irritated, or afraid, or in pain, but she had only scratched the surface. The rest of him was shrouded in a perpetual cloud of calm that gave no hints what was really going on inside his mind.
His feelings, if he had any, were buried deep within.
“Did you really mean what you said today?” Miri suddenly asked. “About love being about sacrifice, not possession, I mean?”
“Oh that,” Darien said. “Just something I heard from someone. Seemed appropriate for the moment. I was trying to get him angry enough to fight me, and I expected that questioning his feelings for you might accomplish that.” Darien tilted his head in casual thought. “Didn’t work though, so I had to try something else. Perhaps he doesn’t love you as much as he claims, or maybe he just hates his brother more. Who knows?”
“I think you were right, about love. That’s how I think of it too. I thought that was a beautiful thing to say.” Miri somehow sensed that she needed to comfort him now, something about the way he turned away to stare at nothing in particular.
Darien let out a few forced, strained chuckles. “I suppose if anyone should understand sacrifice, I should. I’ve seen too many examples.” Darien tried to hide the hurt and pain in his voice, but it did not escape Miri’s notice. She wondered what he meant. Whatever it was, it hurt him. Miri wanted to run to him, to hold him, to ease the pain that churned so close to the surface, but she knew that would only make things worse, so she stood silently, helplessly, poisoned by Darien’s pain, a wound that her power could never heal.
“You may take the bed for tonight,” Darien said after a few more minutes of silence. “I’ll have Kellan bring in a second one tomorrow.”
“I couldn’t,” Mirisa said. “I mean you were the one who was in a fight. I wouldn’t feel right. I can sleep in my chair. That’s probably why Kellan brought it. He knows that half the time I fall asleep in my chair anyway.”
“It’s no trouble,” Darien said. “I doubt I’ll sleep tonight anyway. I often go without sleep for several days at a time, though less often lately.” Darien trailed off and rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
Unwilling to argue the point further, Mirisa quietly agreed. “I need to change into my night clothes.” Darien sighed then walked into the hallway that led to the door. He crossed his arms and turned towards the door, where he stood quietly. Mirisa kept an eye on the raven-haired mage as the thin firelight danced on the floor. He seemed completely calm, seemingly indifferent to the naked woman behind him.
Even among elves, for whom true love was rare and difficult, complete disinterest in physical intimacy was almost as rare. Unlike humans, who generally equated the emotion of love with the act, elves found it easier to separate them. The words were more important than the act, because of what they meant, a spiritual binding, something more than just physical. Almost never would a couple take the vows unless they had been living together, and lying together, for many months, or even years. Without the vows, the act wasn’t considered truly binding. It was the vow of consecration, spoken with sincerity, that began the process of joining the spirits.
Miri had never thought too much about marriage, or the associated beliefs she had been taught, but at that moment she wondered how much of it was true. Was there really such a thing as a love bond, an unbreakable bond that bound to spirits both in life and death as well? True or not, physical or something more, Darien seemed none too interested in any of it.
Miri shook her head, admonishing herself for even worrying about it. We aren’t really engaged, and we aren’t going to be. He’s not interested, and I shouldn’t be interested in him. Miri dismissed the possibility and hurriedly put on her nightgown. “I’m finished,” she finally peeped.
Darien turned and nodded, then grabbed a book from the shelf and started poring over it. Miri laid herself on the bed, which really was not much more than a cot. The mattress was simply straw mixed with some sort of bird feathers wrapped in a sheet. It was nowhere near as comfortable as her bed in the lodge, and Miri earnestly hoped that Kellan could find a real bed for her. She thought of sleeping in her chair, but that would be insulting after Darien had offered her his own bed.
She laid down, and drew the covers over her. It felt strange and familiar at once. She had tended Darien’s wound nearly every day until recently, but she had never been on the other side of the sheets. The covers carried a faint smoky scent like the ashes of a fire, mixed with a hint of something else, an almost undetectable icy odor, like freshly fallen snow. As often as she had tended Darien’s wounds, she had never noticed this before. With his scent all around her, she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 26: New Nightmares
Darien tried to focus on the book in front of him, a book of maps from the northern regions, trying to work out where the Shades’ base, Sorrowmont fortress, might be. He had already spent countless hours on the task, but now he felt a new sense of urgency. After the day’s events, his presence here would not remain secret much longer. He had to plan.
He ran a finger across a yellowed page along a series of triangles that represented the Green Mountains, called the forest range in this particular tome. Somewhere near the northern end, where the forest thinned, and the mountains grew lower, near the Scouring Desert, it had to be there, somewhere, but just those few inches of map represented hundreds of miles, weeks of searching. Then again, perhaps there was an easier way. Perhaps he could find someone who could lead him there, though if they kept the knowledge from Zandrek, who would know. The Shades went to great lengths to conceal their hiding places whenever they could. Darien tapped his finger on the book, frustrated.
After a few minutes, Mirisa shifted and rolled on her side, then let out a deep sigh as she snuggled herself more deeply under the blankets. For a moment, Darien watched as the covers rose and fell with her breath, captivated by her peaceful, contented expression. This will be a profound inconvenience, he thought to himself. For some unknown reason, Mirisa’s presence distracted him, but why? He had slept in close proximity to Jerris and several other people on the quest for the Star Blade, and he had never been so disturbed by their presence. What made her different? Perhaps it was her aura, a steady presence that almost called out to him, inviting, warm. He caught himself smiling as he watched her sleep, her hair falling over her face. It had been a long time since Darien had found a woman beautiful, but Mirisa appeared beautiful now, sleeping peacefully.
Darien stood and walked over to her, to brush her hair away from her face, but as he bent down, his vision shifted out of focus for a moment, like the world suddenly faded out then suddenly snapped back, but as his vision quickly returned, he found Mirisa gone, replaced by a vision of Rana, lying dead, desecrated, after the battle with the demon. Darien recoiled and staggered backwards as his vision flashed again. Darkness drew in around him, and in that darkness, he could see nothing, except a horrible memory. Rana stood before him, with the claw of the demon dragon protruding through her stomach, pain and shock frozen on her face. Darien shut his eyes and thrashed his head back and forth, but the vision remained. He turned, guided by only instinct, and staggered towards the door. He felt his way along the wall until he found the iron door handle, then opened the door quickly and staggered out into the cold night. He swayed about, shaking his head, trying to banish the image before him, sucking in gasps of cold air. He fell to his knees, braced his hands against the ground, vomited into the several inches of snow, and finally, mercifully, the image faded.
A deep and empty feeling settled over him as he remained on hands and knees, shaking uncontrollably, eyes shut tight lest the vision return. Several agonizing minutes passed before his breath slowed and the trembling quakes abated. What in the hells was that, he wondered? It had felt like a nightmare, but this time he had been awake. Darien stood slowly, swaying on unsteady legs. He sensed something behind him, and turned.
There, a few yards outside his door, stood Ezra, a figure he had not seen in months. The old man stood motionless, bent over his gnarled staff, silently watching, eyes only half open, veiled by long strands of gray hair that drifted on the slight breeze. Darien felt relief for a moment, but that was cut short when he looked at Ezra’s face. The man a
ppeared changed, weathered somehow. Every line upon his withered face seemed to have sharpened, every wrinkle deepened, every feature sunken further than ever before. The look on his face had changed as well. Gone was Ezra’s usual grandfatherly look of comfort and wisdom, replaced by a stern look of genuine concern, even fear. Something must have happened to the old man, but what?
“Ezra?” Darien greeted the old man warmly, hoping against reason for some good news, or words of comfort. “It is good to see you.”
“Thank you, Darien.” Even the old man’s voice had changed. The words felt strained, difficult, laced with weariness. “It has been too long.”
“I feared I would not see you again. I wondered if you thought me dead.”
“No, indeed,” Ezra said. “I was occupied with other business.”
“What business?” Darien asked, certain the answer would be unpleasant, if he got an answer at all.
“Nothing you need concern yourself with. You have problems enough of your own.” That certainly was true.
“I have so many questions,” Darien said. “I used the sword.”
Ezra raised a hand from off his staff and held it up, palm outwards. “I know. You have mastered the Demon’s Blade. Do you understand why?”
Darien thought for a moment, but the answer was obvious. “It isn’t enough to draw on the sword’s power. I had to command it, overpower it with my own will, my own rage, force it to yield.”
Ezra nodded. “I have nothing else to tell you then, save that which you already know. Do not use the weapon lightly.”
“I have more questions,” Darien said. Ezra poked an eye open and lifted himself up straight, then took a few steps forward, leaning on his staff as a support. “I just had a terrible vision, something like my nightmares, only I was not asleep.”