“Have you any respect for Elvish secrecy?” demanded Nolder.
“It’s Justin and Taran,” explained Ferra. “They don’t deserve to be treated as humans.”
“They don’t deserve to be treated as Elves either. They brought humans with them,” he sneered. “What will he bring next time? Dwarves? How do we know they can be trusted?” asked Nolder.
“Because I trust Justin!”
“I don’t!”
“Didn’t you hear anything Tishanna had to say?” asked Ferra.
Nolder rolled his eyes.
“If what she says is true, they traveled into the mists. I’m sure they have something to report that’s worth hearing,” interrupted Barralor. “Fallon can decide if it’s information worth taking to the council.”
No one seemed inclined to argue with Barralor. Lucy wondered if it was due to his rank, earned respect, tendency to be right, or general agreement.
“Since you seem to be refreshed from your lunch before crossing, if you would follow us, please,” Barralor motioned.
They followed. Lucy was very curious about their entourage. Barralor led the way with Ferra. Two other Elves brought up the rear. Nolder and the remaining Elves stayed on the bank. Apparently it was their area to patrol. Not everyone could be spared to escort them. As they walked, Ferra looked back at Taran and winked.
“You were expecting them,” accused Barralor once they were out of Nolder’s hearing distance. “That’s why you volunteered to take supplies to the border.”
“I trust Tish, and you should, too, despite your past history with her,” said Ferra with a shrug. “I knew Nolder would give Justin and Taran a hard time if they crossed the Ondra and tried to enter Elvan territory. If they had humans with them, as Tish’s story implied they would, he’d probably decline them entry entirely. I think we need to hear any information they have gathered. When was the last time anyone scouted the mists and returned with information?”
“Is Barralor related to Tish?” asked Lucy quietly.
Apparently not quietly enough, though. Barralor laughed.
“Luckily no,” he answered. “We were close once and talked about a betrothal. She can be a handful; her older brother has a hard time occasionally. I guess it has something to do with the fact that she’s the only girl with a bunch of boy cousins. You know Justin and Taran, of course. Then, there’s Githrad, Thaniel, Lerreth, and Frennar.”
“You have a large family,” commented Lucy. “How do you fit in?” Lucy asked Ferra, who had dropped back to walk beside her and seemed accepting. Lucy thought it was unusual for an Elf to be so friendly on a first meeting.
“I’m Tish’s best friend,” Ferra explained. “Thanks for saving her.”
“She might not have needed saving if we hadn’t been there,” admitted Lucy. “She could have been in and out without them knowing. She happened to be with us at the wrong time.”
“Even so, this way she got out safely and with more information than she would have gotten on her own. Sometimes, things happen for a reason. Tish is alive and reported to the council. That keeps us a step ahead of whatever attacked you in Fredamonn. Did you find out what’s behind this?”
Lucy looked at Justin for guidance on whether it was okay to tell them? Justin nodded.
“Shadow Weaver,” supplied Taran before Lucy could say anything.
The reactions were mixed. Barralor scoffed, Ferra turned white, and the two Elves bringing up the rear were startled enough for one of them to step wrong and break a stick. Until then, Gavin and Lucy were the only ones making any noise while they traveled; the Elves moved silently.
“Tales from nightmares?” asked Barralor. “If you want to bring unbelievable threats from demons to the council, it’s a good thing we are seeing Fallon first. If she believes you, she’ll know the best way to approach the council. I’m thankful you didn’t mention anything in front of Nolder. I might be skeptical, but he’s much worse.”
“Are you sure? About the Shadow Weaver?” asked Ferra. She had regained some of her color, but not much.
“Fairly sure,” answered Lucy. “When we get to Fallon, we will show you how we found out. I’m sure she will want what proof we can offer.”
Barralor nodded. Lucy wasn’t sure he believed them, but she did notice he picked up the pace.
Chapter 20
Lucy’s first impression of an Elven city was awe. There was nothing overly grand about it other than what it was. The trees seemed to have grown into whatever the Elves needed from bridges to buildings. She was sure it was magic. Everything felt peaceful and balanced. Flowers, vines, trees, rocks, moss, and paths all seemed in harmony. Now that she had time to study a whole group of Elves together, rather than one or two at a time, Lucy felt overwhelmed. Lucy thought Elves were superlative, in every sense of the word. From their intense coloring to their emotive expressions, Lucy’s senses were overloaded. The blonds were the blondest, shimmering like sunlight. Black hair seemed to drink in the light. Blue eyes were the bluest, green eyes mirrored grass and leaves like no other, and the brown eyes were the warmest brown she had ever seen. They moved with the most grace, every movement part of a dance. Their laugher was the happiest. She worried the sadness of seeing one cry might break her heart. They frowned with the most seriousness. When playing children ran by, they brought with them the most joy Lucy had ever felt emanating from one group. Lucy felt overloaded and very plain. It was as if whoever had chosen her coloring hadn’t pressed hard enough when using the crayons.
Barralor led them to a garden. There, sitting cross-legged on a rock in the center of a bed of dahlias was Fallon. She was the shortest Elf Lucy had seen yet, shorter than herself by a few inches. Her smooth, pale skin was ageless. Her hair was white. She wondered if it always was. If not, how old did an Elf have to be for her hair to turn white? Fallon opened her eyes studying them. It was her eyes that told her age. Lucy had never looked into eyes with such depth. It was a different type of depth than Ora’s eyes. Ora’s eyes held fathomless information. Fallon’s eyes held knowledge and experience. How old was she? Her dark blue, thoughtful gaze drifted from one face to the other. She unfolded herself from the rock and glided towards them, extremely graceful despite her lack of height. Her smile made all of Lucy’s troubles melt away.
“My Taran,” she said in a musical voice as she hugged him. “My Justin,” she turned and hugged Justin. “It has been too long since you have been to see me. You do not need to bring trouble; you can come without it on occasion,” she chided. “You are always welcome to bring joy. You bring a warrior. Continue to be a good warrior,” she put a hand on Gavin’s arm in greeting. Then, she stopped in front of Lucy. She smiled and cupped Lucy’s cheek in her hand. Lucy felt immense joy and safety in her touch. Lucy smiled in return. “We have much to discuss, you and I. Come,” she motioned and they followed.
She led them to a tree that seemed to have grown comfortable benches on its side. They sat and waited for Fallon to direct the conversation. She looked at Justin. He assumed she was apprised of the situation from Tish’s information and started with their journey through the mists. He left nothing out. Barralor and Ferra listened with rapt attention. If their story was true, they probably should have been taken to the council, but Barralor was glad they had sought Fallon first.
“A Shadow Weaver?” Fallon asked a brief frown crossing her face. “I see you believe you are sure. A dangerous foe.” She turned towards Lucy. “Would you show me?”
Lucy nodded. There was a pond beside them. Lucy knelt at its edge. She was nervous to demonstrate a skill to Fallon she had so newly learned and had yet to master. She focused her intentions and motioned with her arm. An image appeared in the water. It was of them sitting there. Barralor raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical. Ferra was interested and a little impressed.
“The beginning,” nodded Fallon, “A good place to start.”
Lucy began to move the picture. They watched as she backtracked their afternoo
n’s progress, to the Ondra, over it, through the woods, over the Karrenna mountains, and into the mists. She continued to move the image west in the direction of the castle she had found before. They were able to see the gathering forces of the nightmare army. It was growing. In the days since Lucy had searched them out, there were definitely more. She skimmed over the army, through the gate in the wall, around the courtyard of blacksmiths forging weapons and armor, and into the castle.
“I’ll peek into the throne room, but quickly. Watch closely. I don’t want to attract his attention,” explained Lucy.
Lucy moved the picture through the hallways as she had before. She steadied herself and entered the throne room. She held the picture long enough to show the Shadow Weaver on his throne, and dropped her spell. He hadn’t reacted at all and her ring hadn’t burned her finger. Hopefully he hadn’t sensed her since she stayed near the door and only focused the picture in his direction. Lucy looked up at Fallon. Fallon nodded. Ferra was white again.
“How do you know it was real? How do you know it wasn’t a trick or an illusion?” asked Barralor though he also looked shaken.
“That’s why she started with us,” said Ferra contemptuously.
“Lucy, please create an illusion for us,” requested Fallon.
“In the water? I’ve never tried that before. Only farseeing,” Lucy explained.
“How would you try to create an illusion?” asked Fallon.
“I’ve done it in the air before,” replied Lucy.
Lucy closed her eyes for a moment then, stepped backwards. There were two of her. She motioned and her illusion turned to look down the path. She created an illusion of Nut to fly down the path and sit on the shoulder of her illusion. Fallon nodded.
“Things you have seen, things you are comfortable with, things you know. It is easier to create an illusion out of such. Can you create an illusion of something you’ve never seen?” asked Fallon.
Lucy paused to think. Before she could do anything, Barralor interrupted.
“I don’t care what she can create. I want to know how we can trust what she shows us.”
“I was seeing what she tended to do naturally, first,” Fallon acknowledged. “I think we can all agree that Lucy has never been here before,” everyone nodded, “and you entered our lands from the west. Lucy, can you show us what is to the east?”
“I can try,” said Lucy.
She knelt at the pond again. She focused. With a gentle motion, they all appeared in the water again. This time, she traveled east. She moved the picture through bits of the town. She paused to watch an Elven baker take out fresh loaves of bread.
“That’s something you can walk over and verify,” Fallon pointed out to Barralor.
Lucy continued to wind through the town. Then, she traveled east out of town and through the forest. She tried to stop at anything that might be considered a landmark Barralor would recognize. A bend in a river, a large rock grouping that looked like a horse’s head, a fallen tree, and some ripening berries. She was anxious to prove she wasn’t making things up, but there was only so much she could do. At the next village, she focused on various Elves. Some glanced around them as though they knew they were being watched. When that happened, she moved on quickly. She wasn’t trying to cause trouble. Seeing familiar Elves they knew reacting to Lucy’s farseeing proved her point more than anything before had.
“I accept that what you show is not an illusion,” agreed Barralor.
“Can you find specific people?” asked Ferra.
Lucy smiled, nodded, and waved again, despite her growing fatigue. Tishanna’s mischievous face appeared. She was sitting on a rock in a garden, sewing a shirt, and deep in thought. Suddenly her frown disappeared. She looked up, grinned, and winked. Lucy dropped the picture.
“Did she know it was you?” Ferra asked Lucy.
“My Tishanna is perceptive,” said Fallon. “She sensed a friend. Friends who are powerful enough to farsee into the middle of Elven forests are few. She felt whoever it was deserved recognition. Although, since she is familiar with Lucy’s magic, she may have known who it was or guessed.
“I’m convinced,” said Ferra. “What do we do now?”
“We travel to the council and convince them,” replied Fallon with determination.
“Will that be more or less difficult than defeating a Shadow Weaver?” wondered Ferra with a smile.
“I understand your reaction, but that is not something to joke about,” admonished Fallon gently.
Chapter 21
Lucy enjoyed her bath. Fallon seemed to be a respected figure and one to be obeyed. She gave orders for their group to bathed, fed, and given rooms for the night, and it was seen to without question. Lucy loved the room. The walls were living tree trunks. The branches trimmed to leave head room and then woven into a roof. The trunks curved in order to provide windows. The floor was a soft moss, encouraging bare feet. The bed was comfortable. Everything smelled fresh. It had all the safety of being indoors without the feeling of being indoors. When everyone was bathed and in clean clothes they joined Fallon, Ferra, and Barralor for dinner.
The Elves serving them were polite, but cool and distant. It made Lucy uncomfortable. Were they always this way? Was the coolness because of Justin and Taran or Gavin and Lucy? She was glad they were with Ferra and under Fallon’s care. Ferra and Lucy sat next to each other at dinner. Again, Lucy found someone she felt akin to immediately. She could easily understand how Tish and Ferra were best friends. They were both kind and caring, made you feel comfortable, and had a great sense of humor. They were strong, gutsy, and unafraid of taking chances.
After dinner, Fallon looked at Lucy.
“You left out the Rav before. Will you tell us about him now? What did he say?”
“The what?” asked Lucy, confused.
“A Rav? That’s who the stranger was at the inn,” said Justin with a nod of understanding.
“The stranger? Oh, the man in black. What’s a Rav? What do you want to know about him? He didn’t say much.”
“They generally don’t. They tend towards the cryptic. That’s why I wanted to know about what he said. It could be important,” said Fallon.
“If I tell you what he said, will you tell me what he is and how you’d known I’d met one?” asked Lucy.
Fallon smiled and nodded.
“He said he had been waiting for me. I was his. I was strong and important. He wanted me to come with him. He said he could teach me. I would need his knowledge against the Shadow Weavers. He said he’d be at the inn when I returned. I think that’s it,” finished Lucy, slightly embarrassed. The memory of his voice, his energy, and his claims made her uncomfortable.
“You didn’t think to mention any of this at the time?” asked Justin, raising an eyebrow.
“I thought he was weird. I didn’t think any of it was important,” defended Lucy. “You only think it’s important because Fallon says he’s a Rav, whatever that is. You didn’t know what he was at the time either.”
“No, I didn’t, but I might have figured it out if you had told me what he said,” argued Justin.
“I’m not sure it matters if we know now or if you knew yesterday,” Fallon interrupted. “It wouldn’t have changed your plans, though it might have made you paranoid, my Justin,” she smiled fondly at him. She turned her attention to Lucy. “Ravs have an energy about them. It leaves its mark for those who know what to look for. He’s right; you are very powerful. I think he intentionally left his mark so other Ravs would watch out for you, but keep their distance.”
“That’s not particularly comforting. What is a Rav?” asked Lucy.
“It’s funny how the world creates its own balance. The Krythonians do their best to balance most war and evil that goes on, but even they are no match for Shadow Weavers. Krythonians are passive and choose to avoid confrontation. Shadow Weavers are active and strong. Thousands of years ago, a young group of Krythonians questioned the passive ways of peace.
They wanted to use their powers of balance to actively work against the Shadow Weavers and other evils in the world. No matter what you are born, being a Krythonian is a matter of choice. So, this young group broke off and formed their own alliance. They called themselves the Shadow Weaver Unravelers. This got shortened over the years to Rav. They don’t seem to mind,” explained Fallon.
“What do they do, exactly?” wondered Lucy. “How powerful are they?”
“Those are both very good and difficult questions. Once the Ravs became their own group, they welcomed any who wanted to actively fight Shadow Weavers. They were willing to learn anything from anyone. Magic others considered unsavory or dangerous, they were willing to study if it helped defeat their foes. No one knows exactly how powerful they are. They know an odd mix of magic from all the different races. Many of them spend time traveling, learning, finding artifacts, and returning to share that knowledge with others in their group. No one knows how large that group is. I know they have extended lives, but again, I don’t know how long. I’m not sure if anyone has chosen to study Ravs as a group so much about them remains a mystery.
“As to what they do, they unravel. If we were to fight a Shadow Weaver tomorrow, we would use our magic against it directly and hope for the best. Ravs are constantly fighting them through stealth. Shadow Weavers work in shadow and secret. They weave elaborate magical plans. Much of their strength is in their weavings. Ravs work to unravel what they weave. They find the plans, the plots, the influence, and the magic that binds them. Then, they counteract it. They unravel the magic that holds it together, weakening the Shadow Weaver in charge of the weaving. I don’t know the specifics of how they do what they do. It is a constant back and forth battle that has held the Shadow Weavers at bay since they last came out of the mists,” explained Fallon. She turned to Lucy, “You said he used the plural?” Lucy nodded. “I wonder if he was referring to Shadow Weavers in general or if he knows there is more than one behind this,” Fallon mused.
Ravs Are Rarely Wrong: The Kinowenn Chronicles Vol III Page 15