by Ivory Autumn
Chapter Twenty-eight
The Truth Revealed
Early the next morning before the sun rose, Andrew and his companions readied themselves to depart, and continue their journey.
The air was moist and balmy. The trees and their branches gave of a low-burning glow, casting the city in a comforting light. Their crescent moon-shaped leaves chimed in the wind, like small bells, heralding their departure.
Andrew took in the fresh morning air, feeling his chest rise and fall without pain. In a day his wounds had healed. In a day, the rain had taken away most of the pain, had given him strength to stand, to walk, to live. Yet...Andrew felt as though something was still deeply missing. The pain he now felt was an invisible pain, a pain the rain could not touch or heal. He could hardly believe they were leaving so soon after his recovery. But unbeknown to him, he had already spent a great deal of time there. His quick recovery made him feel as though he had missed getting to know a place he would have liked to stay. He wanted to linger there longer, to learn of the people, to see the city's wonders. Here he felt safe. Here he was not a stranger.
Here there were answers.
But they were leaving just the same. Monday seemed to be in a greater hurry to get to Danspire, more so than ever.
Andrew stood in Drogen's courtyard with his friends, waiting quietly. In the distance, King Rylee appeared with his son, Sterling, on one side, holding a small boy in his lap, and his daughter Coral, on his other, all riding large, white horses.
They paused when they reached Andrew.
"I'm coming with them," Sterling said, more to his father than to anyone else. The king looked at his son in surprise, then anger, at a total loss for words.
"Don't try to convince me to stay, father. I'm going. And I'm not coming back until I find her!"
Sterling dismounted his horse, then helped the small boy down with him.
"Find who?" Andrew questioned, staring first at Sterling, and then at the small, blond haired boy.
"My wife," Sterling said, casting his father another angry look, as if daring him to oppose him. "She wandered beyond our gates gathering herbs for Drogen, only to be captured by Sontar soldiers. I've searched everywhere for her, done everything I can. But I've heard no word. I'm going to go mad if I stay here any longer. I have to find her. If she's alive I believe she will be in Danspire. And that's where you're going, right?"
"Yes," Monday interjected. "But you can't come."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't think you know what's really out there. You've never been beyond your boarders. What if you get to Danspire and find that your wife is dead?"
"She's not dead!" Sterling shouted, staring into Monday's eyes with simmering anger. "And I'm coming with you."
After staring at Sterling for a long time, Monday finally nodded. "Fine. You can come."
"What about your son!" King Rylee cried, pointing to the blond haired boy. "You can't leave him now. Not when he needs you the most."
"What he needs," Sterling said, kneeling down and placing a gentile hand under his son's chin. "Is his mother. And I promise I will bring her back."
"She's dead, and you know it," King Rylee shouted. "Don't fill the boy with false hopes."
"No!" Sterling cried, standing to his full height, like a great warrior. He was tall, with wavy hair, and a strong jaw. There was a river-like crisp nature about him. His movements mirrored a graceful panther. His eyes were discerning, and spoke of a deep sadness and longing.
Coral placed a calming hand on her brother. "Father...let him go. He must." Her words were warm, and soothing, yet brilliant and powerful as lightning. When she spoke, no one could protest when she spoke.
"Fine," King Rylee sighed. "Go. We will watch over your son until you return."
"Thank you," Sterling said, reaching out to hug first his father, his sister, and lastly his small boy.
Each of the travelers were given packs filled with supplies. Not only that, King Rylee furnished the party with horses, which were a talking breed of horse. Though they had not uttered a word to any of the travelers, King Rylee insisted that the horses had told him which rider they'd prefer.
Talic stayed on his own horse, Flags, worried that a talking horse might be hard to control. Monday kept his own horse, Follymane. Sterling, rode his own brown and white horse, Rainbow.
Andrew was picked by a brown-orange cinnamon colored horse, named Oragino. Freddie was chosen by a strong black horse with a white tail and mane, called Starfire. Ivory and Gogindy were chosen by a gray horse, speckled with white spots all over its body. Its name was Dandelion. Both Gogindy and Ivory loved it. Or at least, Gogindy loved its name.
On the hour of their departure, Drogen, stood by, watching with misty eyes. When it was time for them to leave, he stepped up to Andrew holding out Andrew's sword for him to take. "Andrew, it is time you take up your sword once more. You are strong once again. You can bear the truth it speaks."
Andrew shook his head, afraid that he was not yet ready, afraid of the truth he might learn once he held it. He knew that something was missing inside him. And he didn't want to know what that something was. Not yet.
"Take it!" Drogen urged him. "A truth bearer must not be afraid of the truth, no matter how sharp or cutting it is. It is time you learn the truth. You have been hiding from it. And I know you won't hear it from me. You must take it, and learn it yourself. In the truth you will find what exactly it is you have lost, so that you may someday find it again."
Anxiety flooded over Andrew. He dared not take it. He dared no know the truth so soon. He'd rather not know. It was easier. In not knowing, he felt that there was still hope. He hesitated, unable to make himself take the sword. He did not want to know. Not yet.
"Go on," Drogen insisted. "TAKE IT!"
Andrew cringed, and forced himself to take the sword. Instantly, he was hit by the truth, so hard that it knocked the breath from his lungs. The truth cut deep, echoing of the emptiness inside him. Pain, sharp and acute engraved its icy fingers cross his abdomen where the Barnacle had feasted on him, then it spread out echoing off of the vacant, raw part of himself that was no longer there. The truth pushed through his mind and body, so undiluted, so unwaxed, so unvarnished, so powerful that it stunned him. His gifts were gone. Every particle of them was siphoned away by the Barnacle. No longer would he be the great elf that would someday destroy the Shade's Trees. He was empty, and powerless. His gifts had been drunk dry. His body has lost its core. He suddenly knew why he could no longer hear the plants growing, or hear them talking at night. He felt suddenly dizzy, and weak. The sword slowly slipped from his fingers, and fell to the ground.
"What's wrong with him?" Ivory wondered.
"He's shock," Drogen said, helping steady Andrew. "He now knows the truth."
"What truth?"
"That my gifts are gone," Andrew answered. "I had suspected, but never thought that..."
“It is a shock," Drogen said, "to be sure. But you're lucky you have your life. Andrew no matter what truth the sword showed you, know that though your gifts are gone, if you hold onto the truth long enough, you may find a greater truth. That your gifts are more than blood, or water, or power or strength. Your gifts flow from the deep inner strength inside of you, inside the wellspring of your soul, with divine purpose. They come from who you really are. The gifts that are manifested physically, in any elf's life, are just outward signs of inward strength. And you, Andrew, have much strength. Whatever you have lost will be replaced and doubled in strength. You must not lose hope. Hold onto it, as you do the truth, and your handicap will become your greatest strength."
"But..." Andrew's voice cracked. "I..." A lump came into his throat, and he could not finish what he had started to say.
"You will find your gifts again," Drogen insisted, pulling Andrew into a hug. "All is for the best, if you just keep up courage."
"Thank you," Andrew said, "I'll try."
"G
ood lad, now it's time for you to go."
Coral then wrapped her warm arm's around Andrew, enfolding him in the arms of summer, for one moment, only to quickly step back. "If ever you need help, I will be watching."
Coral then turned to Monday. “Promise me, that you’ll bring my brother back.”
She grasped Monday's hand, and gazed into his eyes, as if seeing into his soul. Before he could answer her. She pointed to the fallen sword Andrew had dropped. "Monday, it is your turn. Pick it up, and you will learn the truth. Like Andrew you have lost a part of yourself. And you need to know what part it is you have lost so that you can find it again, someday."
Monday stared first at Coral, then at Andrew, confused.
"You want to know the truth," she said, her voice filling with callous indifference. "Then, take it, even for a moment. Learn the truth. Find out who you were, so that you can become the person you were meant to be."
Monday nodded, fear glinting in his eyes. Perhaps he was just a robbers son. An orphan, with no name. Maybe he didn't really want to know who he was, for in not knowing there was hope in possibility. Finally, unable to bear Coral's hard stare any longer, he slowly bent down and picked up the fallen sword. The second he touched it, he was jolted by the truth that surged into him.
He immediately knew who he was. All the memories that he could not remember, were now before his eyes. He was Monday no longer. The memories that had been hidden from him, of when he had been kidnapped from his father while he was still so young were now vivid, as if they had happened only days ago. All the lies he had been told, all the years of working as a slave in the coalmines had made him forget, all the terrible things he had been told by his masters were all lies. He now knew the truth. And nothing would ever take that away from him. He was no longer a nameless soul, but a man robbed of his past, of his identity, and future. The lost years overwhelmed him, and the injustice of what he had been through. A lump formed his throat. Tears came to his eyes.
He stepped back, holding up the sword, seeing his face reflected in the blade. The truth confused, thrilled, frightened, and exited him. How was it that he could not remember until now?
"Who are you?" Coral asked.
"Who am I...?" Monday repeated.
"Yes, who are you?"
"A man robbed---taken away from my family, kidnapped, and sold into bondage. I'm Lancedon, son and heir to Danspire."
Everyone gasped.
"And I so liked the name Monday," Gogindy complained. "It had such a nice ring to it."
"See," Coral said, "the truth isn't always so frightening."
"Oh," Lancedon answered, "but it is."
"But not as frightening as not knowing," she whispered, kissing him lightly on the lips. Her lips were so warm, and felt so wholly comfortable, that Lancedon’s mind became slightly numb. Behind them, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled.
“Goodbye, Lancedon, I believe you are no longer lost,” she whispered, her soothing warm voice flowed out, rippling warmly over him. "For I have found you."
Lancedon turned and stepped towards Sterling. "Take the sword, learn if your wife lives."
Sterling's face paled. He shook his head. "No. I cannot know. I must learn on my own. I do not need a sword to know if she lives. I can feel it, in here." He pointed to his heart.
Lancedon nodded in respect, then gently relinquished the sword back to Andrew. In turn, Andrew took the sword, and quickly hid it beneath his cloak. Everyone was quiet, and solemn. The truth exchanged was enough to keep everyone submersed deep in their own thoughts.
"It's time," Lancedon said, turning to his horse. “Farewell. We go to summon The Fallen world to battle. Come, Andrew, let us depart!"
Coral stared at after them as they went, her eyes misty with tears. As she cried, the sky swiftly clouded over, sending down a torrent of steamy raindrops over them, as if bidding them a last farewell.
Andrew held out his hands, and gazed up into the sky. A feeling of peace settled over him. He now knew the truth. Though they had fallen, like a tree felled to the earth. They would rise. The truth would be their guide.
The journey to Danspire had begun.
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More Books in the Series
Andrew and the Quest of Orion's Belt
Book Two: The Canvas War
Book Three: The Shade's Trees
Book Four: The Last Summoning
About the Author
Ivory Autumn is a wood elf who enjoys ice-skating, swimming, cheesecake, noodles, hula hooping, and exploring tree houses. Her favorite color is purple, and her preferred shape is a circle. She likes the smell of cinnamon, and the sound of feebee bugs clicking their wings at night. She doesn’t like carrots, getting slivers under her fingernails, radishes, blustery wind, doing moldy dishes, or stepping in cold puddles with fresh stockings on.
If she were to be any kind of fruit, she would be a mango, because they are so yummy. She likes watching lightning, springtime, tall trees, and having butterflies land on her nose.
She spends much of her time with her best friends, Andrew, Freddie, Talic, and Gogindy, protecting them from dragons, and other types of nasty monsters. To visit Ivory, Gogindy, Andrew, and the rest of the gang, go to: the writinggarden.blogspot.com