“He’s healing?” she exclaimed, followed by an exasperated, “How do you know about the celestials?” Did everyone, except her, know about this story?
The old man shifted and raised a hand to Tryss. “Granddaughter, go and see how the elf fares and bring back word.”
When she departed, the Ancient turned again to Tellie. “Though I have lived four hundred years—yes, do not look so surprised—I have never met the fair elves of Aselvia. But I listen, I listen and learn what I may, and though my former people told the story of the Dark Days differently than the elves, I sought the stories of the last celestial and the peace he brought to the earth elf kingdom. I know of the Higher World, and how the Darkness longs to conquer it…and if what you say is true…”
“It is.”
“…then the grace and power of Ayeshune must be with this prince for him to have endured so long.”
For a brief moment, Tellie thought of the anguish and anger on Errance’s face, and she wondered if he would have called it God’s grace and power.
“And what about you, maiden?” the Ancient said, snapping her attention back into focus. “How do you and the boy play into this?”
She shrugged helplessly, all explanations of the elves she had met and the mission she’d been given tangling on her tongue. “We were also captured. We’re his friends, and we just want to get him back home.”
The old man’s brow raised in several wrinkles at that aloof explanation, but he did not press for answers. Instead he rose to his feet with a weary groan and gestured with his hand. “Let us hear what our healers have to say about your friend.”
She scrambled to her feet in haste, but his pace was slow so she politely matched it despite her anxiety. As they approached the healing hut, she saw Tryss standing with her teacher just outside, caught in distressed chatter. Tellie’s heart lurched to see Tryss’s face crumbled near to tears, and she leapt forward in dismay.
“What is it, what’s wrong?”
Tryss spun to face her and glanced between the master healer and the Ancient. Then with a choked murmur, she hurried past them and off into the village. The healer began to speak to the Ancient, and Tellie waited in fretful suspense. When the healer finished speaking, he swept back into the hut, leaving the girl and the old man alone.
Tellie stared into the Ancient’s sad eyes, her throat knotting. “What did he say?”
He took her hand—the action she’d prayed he would not do. “He still lives. But he has been off the sleeping medicine long enough to wake, and instead…have you ever seen a dead body?”
She swallowed hard. “Yes.”
“Master Holivari says that though he breathes and his body is swiftly showing signs of healing, he is…he is like one dead. It as if his spirit has flown or else hidden far away…and he does not know if he will wake or how we can keep him alive if he does not.”
Sick tingles ran from her scalp to her fingertips, and she hugged herself in a sudden chill. “But…but it’s soon to worry, isn’t it? I mean…”
“Yes, yes, child,” he assured. “There is hope yet. The village shall pray for him tonight and tomorrow morning. However long it takes until he wakes.”
He set a fatherly hand on her shoulder, guiding her back to the village center where folk were gathering around the savory smell of roasted meat. “Now then…how about some supper?”
“I don’t know if I can eat,” she mumbled.
“Tellie!”
She spun around at the sound of Kelm’s cry and gasped in relief and joy to see him running towards her. His fierce hug near took her breath away.
“Oh, ow, you’re awake!” she managed to squeak.
“Me? This is my third time awake. You’ve been sleeping like a log!”
“Thanks for that,” she said. “Anyway, have you heard about Errance?”
His merry face sobered, and he nodded. “Tryss just told me. Not much we can do I guess, except hope he pulls through.”
She nodded and let herself be led to the sawn logs around the firepits where the evening meal was being served.
But through the meal and above the lively chatter of their hosts and the noises of the night, she only thought, there must be something I can do.
Long after most of the village had gone to sleep Tellie lay awake. She had been given a bed in the loft of a hut belonging to a kind, elderly couple, and though the mattress of soft grass wrapped in blankets proved a compelling reason to rest, her mind only circled like a stricken dove.
After all that had happened, it was so very strange to be back in a bed, by all appearances safe. She still couldn’t help but wonder now and then if this wasn’t just a strange nightmare and she would be shaken awake back in Denji. Yet every time she pulled out the moon medallion, she knew it was no lie.
She wondered if Leoren and Casara searched for her, and what they had thought when she was taken away. If Errance died, would they even still want to give her a home?
Rolling over, she buried her face into the straw and finally slept.
She opened her eyes, certain she’d heard someone call her name. Slowly, she sat up, gazing around the loft. A little hatch had blown up, and she went to close it, not liking any entrance, no matter how small, into her room. As she started to pull it shut, a flash of white caught her eye in the trees beyond. She squinted and saw a magpie bouncing from moonlit branch to branch. Frowning at the sight of the bird that had started this whole ordeal, she wrenched the window shut and turned back.
A man sat on the other side of the room.
Her heart banging to a stop, Tellie opened her mouth to scream.
“Fear not, Tellie,” the man said softly. “It is I, Rendar.”
12
oOo
How strange it is when endless eternity…alters….
I almost thought I had escaped again, so far cast was my spirit from its form. But then came that change, and I felt my body twist, jerking my spirit back on its cord. The Darkness wraps around closer, binding me as linens bind the dead. It hides from me that which it does not wish me to see. If only it knew how little I care to look.
It was Rendar.
No matter how hard Tellie rubbed her eyes, the celestial king of Aselvia remained sitting on the other side of the room.
Yet he was not the same. He was not the ancient elf she had met in the forest. While his hair still shone silver and his eyes still held the wisdom of millennia, the age of his years seemed to have been wiped away, replaced with…not youth…but timelessness.
“You’re dead,” she whispered.
“My body deceased, yes,” Rendar replied.
It was a dream. Oh! Of course it was. The simple acknowledgement of that fact sent a wave of relief over Tellie. Suddenly, she could breathe again. Still, dreaming about a ghost, how unpleasant! If he hadn’t introduced himself, she might have thought he was Errance come to haunt her.
Rendar tilted his head, studying her keenly. “You think me a wraith,” he said, with a hint of amusement in his voice.
She couldn’t help but shudder. Must she dream about dead people speaking to her? “Naturally.”
With a smile, he held out his hand to hers.
Tellie stared at it, uncertain. Did he want her to shake it? Best humor him. It didn’t seem wise to offend a ghost, even an elven one. And while he seemed to be in character at the moment, you could never tell where a dream would go next. He could turn into a snarling shard any second.
Timidly, she placed her small hand in his. To her shock, it was warm and solid, as alive as any hand she’d ever felt, if not more so. “Wait, what?” she said. “You’re real.”
“I am no wraith. A ghost you would have seen within the mortal realm and likely that of a soul mourning their lost chance to change their fate. It is rare for the Saved to pass back there, unless for God’s chosen purpose. We are only to come this far. Here in the Unseen, the spirit realm, I am as true and real as I ever was in mortal life.”
She stared,
a horrible fear running up her spine. “Are you….are you saying I’ve DIED?” What could have happened—the chemas turned evil?The food disagreed with her stomach?
Rendar laughed gently, shaking his head. “Oh no, no, I am sorry for inferring that. No, you have only been given special sight by Ayeshune for such a purpose as this. Errance needs you.”
Her heart sank and tears flooded her eyes. This was swiftly turning into a cruel dream. It was too terrible for Rendar to think she could help Errance when he was beyond even the healer’s aid. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but…but they say he may die…”
“Errance’s spirit is in more peril than his body,” Rendar interrupted. “It is smothered by Darkness, and so long as it remains thus, he will not recover.” A snarl entered his voice. “The Darkness plays games with visions and chains. We can combat it.”
“I’m sorry…” Tellie said politely. “We?”
“I have lived long and seen many things,” he said. “The Darkness and I have a history—one that has given him a greater drive to persecute my son—and while I have been given great power, especially in the Unseen, the Darkness would use memories of my past sins and failures against me, distracting me from the purpose at hand. I may combat his attacks, but you…you Tellie…you have powers that I do not.”
By all the stars above, this dream was taking more liberties than she ever had in real life. Imagine! An elf king saying he lacked powers she had!
“What sort of powers?” she asked, curious to see what outrageous answers the dream would give.
“You are akin to who Errance once was, what he has lost, what he needs to remember. You are innocent and kind, and that takes courage. And you have faith in the Lord, even if it is a young faith. If you did not, it would not be safe for you to come here, but as it is your belief seeks strength. If the Darkness attacks with shame and pain—and he will—you will be a bright, contrasting light.”
“But I’ve known pain,” she whispered, heart jerking as she remembered the sound of the racking coughs in the cold house…and then later…silence.
“Your pain was born from love, something the Darkness does not understand. You are able for this. Ayeshune has called you. Will you answer?”
Slowly, she nodded and rose to her feet. “Yes. I mean, yes, if it’s really going to help Errance.”
“It will be frightening,” he warned. “But I and the One are with you to keep the Darkness at bay while you fight for Errance’s life.”
Would she get a sword? Armor? Where exactly was this dream going next? Tellie slipped her hand into the king’s, and he turned and strode forward. They passed through the wall as if it wasn’t there. Tellie gasped and stammered for words, but she turned silent in the sight of the night. Though the moon was not full, she could see the entire village in soft brilliance from the straws of the roof to the moths fluttering from leaf to leaf. And in the huts, she could see the bright forms of people past the thatched walls.
“Are those the chemas?” she asked.
“Yes, and their spirits are bright in the shade of these mountains. I admit, their aid was most unexpected to me, as were their sincere prayers tonight that have weakened the Darkness. He is frightened now, so intent to keep Errance under shadow…”
As they approached the healing hut, Tellie’s steps faltered as a phantom of fear touched cold fingers to her heart. The night darkened here, and only Rendar remained haloed in soft radiance.
“Might I have a light?” she asked.
“You already have one.”
The necklace? Yes, it had come into the dream with her, in her pocket exactly as she’d left it. She lifted the medallion before her eyes, letting it spin till it looked whole. Yet so very fragile it seemed, so very easily shrouded.
“Come,” the elf king said, and taking her hand, they passed through the hut’s wall.
The Darkness enveloped them, as poisonous as hate. Whispers shuddered through it, memories of hopeless ages and fallen lives. Shadows lurked in every corner and so dense were their weight, that very breath was forgotten.
Without thinking, Tellie clung to Rendar, burying her face in his side. Gently, he sank to one knee and, cupping one hand under her chin, looked deep into her eyes.
Tellie looked back, and all darkness fled forgotten as she stood mesmerized by that stunning, silver gaze. She could see a life lived and finished and then beyond in the endless depths of his eyes, and she shivered, not with fear, but wonder.
“What are you afraid of, Tellie?” he asked.
“Well,” she said, squirming with embarrassment. “It’s…dark.”
“Why is that to be feared?”
She hesitated, trying to tell if it was a trick question. “I…can’t see anything…and anything could be hiding in it.” She blushed at how ridiculous the simple answers sounded.
“Where can darkness not abide?” he continued calmly.
“Um…in light?”
“And what is contrary to hate?”
“Love, I guess.”
“What can conquer despair?”
“Hope.”
At each answer, the moon medallion shone brighter and brighter till the two of them knelt within a sphere of light.
But the darkness seethed just outside, and Tellie trembled as she fancied she heard voices calling from it. Were those the glowing eyes of devils just in the corner of her vision? Quickly, she forced herself to stare directly at them, and they vanished. Clamping her teeth together to keep them from chattering, she reached for Rendar’s arm. To her panic, he stood and took a step back, gazing away from her into the void beyond, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword.
“Your Majesty!” she whispered in a voice far too shrill.
“What are your dreams, Tellie?” he asked.
She sat back on her heels with a frown. What sort of question was that to ask in a place where dreams so obviously died? And her dreams were precious to her. She’d never really discussed them with anyone before. Rubbing the moon medallion between her fingers, she studied its perfect craft. Then she murmured, “I…I’d like to have a family…a real home. My parents died when I was little, and the orphanage and the Nornes really just weren’t…loving.”
“What about beyond?” Rendar continued as if they were having a pleasant conversation over tea. “When you’re grown up?”
Tellie blushed. Here were things she barely had allowed herself to muse over. But the elf’s voice was warm and kind, and she could not refuse to share. “I want to be married…in a white dress with flowers…and puffed sleeves!” she blurted. “I…I’d like to have children, I suppose.”
“How many?” Rendar said with a chuckle.
“Two,” Tellie answered promptly. “Boy first and girl second, so she has a brother she can look up to.”
“And of course so she can’t flaunt her age over him. Dreadfully annoying,” Rendar laughed.
“I never thought of that. But I suppose him flaunting his age could be just as irritating,” she shot back.
“Point taken.”
A snarl sounded from the darkness, and the steel swish of Rendar’s sword being drawn. There was a quiet scuffle with strange sounds, not like metal and flesh, but will against will, power battling power.
Tellie gasped, and in the following silence, she heard distant cries echoing in wraithlike sibilance. Screams. Screams of agony unimaginable, with cruel laughter ringing alongside.
Biting back a scream of her own, Tellie cried, “Rendar, I can’t do this! I don’t even see Errance? Where is he, anyway? I thought you said we were going to help him!”
“Errance is here.”
Her rapid breaths of terror came to a halt. He was in here? Well, of course he was. They had entered the healing hut. But she saw no glowing spirit like Rendar’s or the chemas, and she had a dreadful suspicion she wouldn’t be able to feel anything if she explored either—nothing she wanted to feel anyway.
She swallowed hard. She couldn’t leave Errance
here in this devouring darkness, not when he hadn’t left her in the prison of Tertorem. “What do I do?”
“Sing,” the king of old responded. “Sing with all your heart and with all your soul. All the things of which we just spoke…they are powerful weapons against the Darkness, gifts that Errance needs restored. So sing and pour your very love into the words.”
Uncertainly, Tellie began to obey. Her voice quavered like an autumn leaf ready to fall, and the song she sang was simple—a mere child’s ditty. More screams and snarls stirred around her, and in a desperate bid to drown them out, she sang louder. The child’s song ended, and she picked up an old hymn, her voice, though not perfect, ringing out unashamed.
“The world is slowly fading;
The paint is turning grey.
As the canvas frays around us,
All we can do is pray.
The picture will be repainted
With a paint that does not fade.
The day is soon in coming
When the picture will be remade”
Words sprang to her mind, and she sang them out, filling each note with memories of blue skies where swallows flew, and green fields where flowers grew. She sang of hope and dreams come true. Of broken bonds, and coming through. And as each word danced off her tongue, the darkness began to turn and run.
Then Tellie fell, her strength flown, and darkness closed around once more.
oOo
“Tellie. Tellie, wake up.”
A hand shook her shoulder. Most annoying. There were few things she disliked more than being woken up from a deep sleep. Irritably, she opened her eyes. Sunlight streamed in through the loft window, and she squinted. When her sight focused, she found herself staring at Tryss.
The young woman’s smile beamed as bright as the new morning.
Heart fluttering, Tellie sat up, hardly daring to hope. “Errance?” she gasped.
“He will live,” Tryss cried, grabbing her by the shoulders and wrapping her up in her arms. “Master Holivari says his spirit has returned, and he is recovering!”
Tears flooding her eyes, Tellie hugged Tryss in return with all her strength. Just for a moment, she remembered the dream and wondered if more than the healer’s skill had touched Errance, but she quickly dismissed that fancy.
Moonscript (Kings of Aselvia Book 1) Page 15