Post by Solana on Jul 17, 2014 10:58:08 GMT -5
Chapter Eleven- The Deynain Forests
It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men's hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air, that emanation from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit.
Robert Louis Stevenson
Soft silver light filtered through birch and oak branches in the Forests of Deynain, giving an ethereal quality to the grounds below the thick canopy. The sweet calls of birds were everywhere, although all one could see of the little singers was an occasional flash of brilliant color amongst the emerald leaves. Added to their music was the murmuring and bubbling of many streams and springs, the rustle of leaves in a cool breeze, and the scurrying of squirrels across branches. Dew-kissed blossoms and mossy soil breathed out a scent of new life.
Two elves, still young adults at just over a century each and mounted on the intelligent and swift birds known as lleyts, were out trying to enjoy their usual morning ride through the tranquility. The birds raised their heads gaily as their clawed feet hit the moss and they chirped along with their tiny cousins, but the mood was lost on their riders. One kept his head down, seemingly focusing on the sparse leather harness used on the lleyts. His friend waited for the explanation that was sure to come, certain that it wouldn't take long.
He was right. "My sister had another argument with Grandfather last night, Tayn," the glum one finally remarked.
His friend hadn't expected this outcome and titled his head in puzzlement. "You're kidding, Ethan! Malika?! What on Merna for?"
Ethan's posture slumped a little more. "She tried to convince him to allow some of her healer friends to go to Sagia or Mila to study, but he wouldn't even hear of it. Everyone knows that their healers have techniques we've never thought of, but you know Grandfather."
Tayn nodded in agreement. "He's a good leader, and we know he wants to keep Deynain safe," he remarked slowly, not wanting to badmouth the city's leader and his friend's grandpa. Then again... "But how long does he expect our people to stay hidden in the forest like newborn kittens huddled against their mother?"
Ethan finally shrugged and remarked, "Malika would be forever in your debt if you could-"
He stopped and squinted at something ahead of them on the path. No, two somethings. Two enormous lumps that looked like people were sprawled out on the grass, one significantly larger than the other.
The elf let out a sharp whistle to his lleyt to dash over, Tayn right on his tail. Their lleyts obeyed, breaking into a fast run that nearly jolted Ethan off of his mount and made him sit up properly. The figures didn't move at all, and soon proved to be two unconscious men. Ethan dismounted to take a closer look, then suddenly gasped as he recognized the giant part-elf. "Well, well, here's a familiar face! Raoul! But, who's this other one?"
Tayn squinted at the smaller man, remembering descriptions he had heard from Raoul of his colleagues. "I think that's his friend Eziban, the holder of the earth essence. But, why would they both be here in the middle of our forest like this?" He looked around, not seeing any steeds or vehicles of any kind that would have brought them here. They hadn't seen or heard any landings of one of the Guardians' ships during the ride. There weren't even any footprints to be seen on the path!
Ethan couldn't answer his friend's query. He briskly checked over Raoul while Tayn did the same for Eziban. The pair didn't have any injuries that the elves could detect, but Ethan knew that Malika would insist on making sure that they were all right herself, and especially her beloved Raoul. "We'd better bring them back on the lleyts and get them examined by the family expert. Give me a hand?"
His friend obliged and the two managed to hoist each man onto the back of a bird. The lleyts looked quizzically at their burdens, then at each other, but did not object. Taking up the ropes used to guide the birds, the elves walked them back through the cathedral of forest to their home.
Luckily, Malika was at home when they got back. She was tall and slender, with jade-colored hair that tumbled just past her shoulders in smooth waves and a dusting of gold on her creamy skin. She was sitting outside the family home on a stool, dressed in a softly draped robe of fresh blue, reverently playing her cello.
Her sky-blue eyes were closed as an impromptu, deep-throated melody flowed from the bow caressing the strings. Her upper body unconsciously swayed along with each bowstroke. When Malika played like this, she gave over heart and soul to her music, and nothing could rouse her.
Ethan cupped his hands around his mouth. "Malika, we have some very important patients for you to look at!"
Almost nothing could rouse her.
Malika opened her eyes quickly, seeming like she was waking up. With the utmost care, she placed her beloved instrument and bow in their case and locked it up.
With that done, she lifted her robe slightly and dashed over to see the men draped over the lleyts. Her face turned milk white as she realized their identities, and her fingers automatically reached out to Raoul's wrist to feel a pulse. Oh, praise be, it was still going strong.
"Raoul! How did...?" She caught herself and shook it off, then seemed to stand taller and enter a kind of calm. "Never mind that. Bring them inside, and stoke up the fire. Bring my bag of supplies, please. Hurry." Her brother and his friend quickly obeyed the healer's authority in her voice, running off for wood and Malika's bag after getting their charges settled.
It was only when Malika was alone and began her examination that her calm demeanor broke. She blessed the fact that they didn't seem physically hurt in any way that she could tell. Still, her fingers trembled as she gently touched Raoul's soft cheek, shocked at the complete lack of magic in his system. His friend was in the same condition, and it didn't make any sense.
"What has happened to you, my heart's own? Who has done this, and why?" she whispered. That dear, beloved face with its soulful brown eyes now closed gave her no clues. He wasn't grimacing or in pain, but just seemed very tired and resting deeply.
Tayn came into the infirmary with the wood and Ethan followed with her healer's bag, breaking her reverie. Malika managed to put aside her worries for later to start brewing some healing herbal teas. She was sure that Raoul would have a lot to tell her when he woke up, and she couldn't let her nerves prevent her from caring for them properly. Uninjured or not, the body could have adverse reactions to a complete draining, and she intended to minimize those as much as possible.
Seeing that Malika had things well in hand, Tayn and Ethan decided that it might not be a bad idea to take the lleyts out again for a quick scouting trip. Their people tended to be wary of Bachlan's regime and ways of doing things, and having two of his Guardians dumped on their doorstep in this condition was not a good sign.
Raoul slowly floated back up to consciousness in a warm bed that smelled of sunshine, feeling like his muscles weren't quite cooperating. No doubt it was a temporary side effect of having his thunder power leeched away. A cool wet cloth was resting on his forehead, and he could smell herbal tea.
His nose twitched in recognition. It wasn't just any tea, but the boysenberry that was a favorite of...
Raoul quickly sat up, and the cloth slid onto the floor. A blazing joy entered his heart at seeing that pretty face brighten at his waking up, as if it were the first ray of sunshine after a terrible storm. "Malika?!"
"Raoul! I'm so glad you're all right!" the elfmaiden replied joyfully, throwing her arms around him in delight. Raoul laughed and hugged her back, burying his hands in that mass of soft hair to assure himself that this was no dream and feeling the warmth of her spirit that confirmed she was real. His happiness at seeing her again temporarily blotted the pain and confusion from Bachlan's actions.
Malika shyly tipped her head up, waiting for his kiss. Raoul obliged, cradling her head with one gentle hand and feeling like time was standing still. For that one moment, all was right in his world. Malika had always been able to bring peace and strength to his heart, while she always insisted that he had those qualities already. He didn't know if that was true, but it meant all of Merna to him that she believed it.
Malika reluctantly wriggled away to glance over at the figure in the next bed that was snoring like a buzzsaw trying to hack through a cannonball. She raised her eyebrows at the sheer volume of the sound, wondering if she'd missed something in her examination of him. "Um, this is Eziban, right? He should be waking up soon."
"Was anyone else with us, my dear? A woman with kamas and blue-purple and silver hair? A black and red-haired swordswoman? A silver-haired archer? A blond man in white robes?" Raoul asked hopefully.
Malika shook her head at each description as Raoul's face sank further and further. She laid her hand on his in a comforting gesture. "I am sorry, Raoul, but you were the only ones brought to me. What happened, that you ended up here like this?" A thought came to her. "Did Oriana send you for some reason?"
Raoul was wondering where on Merna to begin when a loud groan erupted from the next bed over. Eziban sat up groggily, glancing around the interior of the wooden building in confusion and clutching his head slightly as if light-headed. "Unnngrrrhhhh, but I always stop shots before my limit...." he murmured, then spotted the pair. His dazed look cleared up a bit. "Raoul, where are we?"
"You're in our infirmary, in the forests of Deynain. I am Malika," the elfmaiden stated. She reached for the two mugs of tea she had brewed, added just a touch of honey to each and swirled the mugs to mix them, then handed them to the men. "Drink this down, both of you. It's an herbal tonic that will help your bodies recover after the magical draining."
Eziban accepted his and grinned in realization, looking from his slightly blushing friend who was drinking the tea as if it were Merna's finest wine back to the elfmaiden. So this was the famous Malika that Raoul had been mooning over all this time, and it was clear that the feeling was mutual. "My name's Eziban. You're even more gorgeous than Raoul claimed!"
Now both of them were blushing, although Raoul's expression had a pinch of unhappiness in it. Eziban mistook it for jealousy and slapped his friend's shoulder. "Ah, don't worry, bro. She's a beauty and all, but she's not my type. I like 'em with some more muscle on... them..."
They were both staring at him in shock, and Eziban realized he'd erred. Now he was the one blushing. "I should really shut up now, shouldn't I?" The pair nodded. Eziban made a show of gulping down the rest of his tea, signaling that he was done making a fool of himself.
Raoul had finished his tea, and was already feeling stronger. Whether it was from the herbs or Malika's nearness, he didn't know. "Is Liam still the leader here?" he asked, trying to get the subject back to business. Malika nodded. "Can you bring us to him? There's something you all should know about Bachlan and the entire Guardianship."
"Of course," Malika answered, then leaned over and gave Raoul a tender kiss on the cheek. "Welcome back home, my love," she whispered in his ear. Raoul flushed as he rose and took Malika's arm to walk together into Deynain proper. Eziban followed with a small smirk on his face.
Deynain was a lovely settlement, crafted from the beginning to be in harmony with the forests around it. Houses were built of wood and local stone and located between, at the bottom of, or even perched in trees. Roofs were thatched with tightly interwoven branches and long grass. Small, well-tended gardens of flowers and vegetables took advantage of every pool of sunlight the leafy green roof admitted. For the most part, the elves preferred utilizing the magic of nature over technology and lived a very earthy existence.
Everywhere were elves dressed in either leather clothing or soft long robes, their eyes curious yet welcoming at the sight of the well-known Raoul visiting with a stranger. Raoul remembered to slightly bow his head to each of the older elves they passed, while Eziban just nodded his respects. While the elves tried to mostly keep to themselves, they treated what guests they had with warm hospitality.
Malika led them to an enormous longhouse situated beneath a majestic oak. It held not only the leader's residence, but also the community's Great Hall for gatherings and ceremonies. The entrance lintel was skillfully carved with images of various wildlife found in their domain, and wooden shutters were open to catch the breeze. It was obviously meant to welcome anyone and be humble before the greater glories of Merna's own artistry.
Standing inside the Great Hall portion were Ethan, Tayn, and a very tall elf that made even Raoul look small. This elf had leaf green hair cut just beneath his pointed ears and eyes of a deep slate gray. He was lean and tanned from plenty of outdoor work, and a sturdy longbow and quiver of arrows rested on his back. He also possessed a sense of authority equal to, but very different from, Bachlan's own as he leaned forward slightly to listen to the two younger elves.
"...all else seems quiet there. That is the situation as of now, Liam," Tayn was saying, obviously finishing a report of some kind.
The older elf nodded, a flicker of uncertainty flashing in his eyes. "Thank you, Tayn, Ethan." He looked over and noticed the new arrivals, his face breaking into a warm and welcoming smile. "Here are two who may be able to answer some of our questions. Welcome back to Deynain, son of our people. Welcome for the first time, friend of our son."
Raoul stepped forward to receive Liam's blessing with a shy smile and did the introductions between Eziban and the elves. Eziban shook everyone's hands strongly, seeing the genuine fatherly affection in Liam's eyes as he smiled down at Raoul.
It was impossible to believe that there had been a wall between these two when Raoul and Malika had begun a friendship that had blossomed into love. A few years after the two lovebirds had met, there had been a terrible explosion at the magic school here that had badly injured nearly all of their healers and many others who had tried to evacuate them. Of these, Liam had been in the most critical condition after trying to get out as many students as possible.
It was Malika, with what was left of her healing magic barely keeping her in one piece, who had ridden to the Citadel to beg for help. Oriana and Raoul had immediately come to their aid.
After seeing how tenderly Raoul cared for his granddaughter and how he never left her side, Liam had consented to their courtship. He and Oriana had also developed a strong respect for each other while she was tending to his wounds.
"I only wish your arrival could be celebrated properly, but I'm afraid that we have questions that cannot wait. What has been happening at the Crystal Citadel?" Liam asked promptly.
Raoul knew that the leader was trustworthy, and began telling their story with Eziban throwing in bits as needed. Liam's expression grew graver and graver as he listened closely, while the younger elves gasped.
"How could even he think that such a thing is serving Merna?!" Malika demanded, her face white with fury and fists clenched.
Tayn's and Ethan's expressions were dark. "There's more. We took a trip while you two were recovering, and found out that Bachlan has surrounded the entire Citadel with a magical barrier that we can't punch through. If you've lost your power and can't do it either, then we're going to have to wait," Tayn added grimly, his arms folded across his chest.
Eziban cursed and slammed a fist against the wall. The sudden pain of having his fist come in contact with stone cleared his head immediately. "I don't like the idea of leaving Oriana locked up in there while Bachlan tries who-the-hell-knows-what to get the last of her essence, but I guess there's nothing else we can do for now. We'll have to think of something," he replied, massaging his knuckles.
Raoul was deep in thought. He suddenly asked, "Can your mages perhaps try searching for our friends?"
Liam hesitated. He would prefer to save his mages' efforts for mounting a defense against this tyrant, but he owed Raoul and Oriana at least a try. "Tayn, have one of our mages on standby in case anything changes with this barrier, and have another try scrying. Ethan, see to getting scouts posted. If anything changes, no matter the hour, I want to be informed immediately."
The two elves nodded and gave Raoul and Eziban friendly slaps on the back as they left. Liam turned back to his guests, a great sadness in his eyes. "You both have Deynain as a refuge for as long as is needed. You need not worry about any of our people betraying your whereabouts to Bachlan, I assure you."
Raoul sighed in relief, grateful for the time to try and think of what to do next. "Thank you, Liam."
"Eziban, would you like a tour of the city?" Malika offered.
Eziban caught the pleading glance that Raoul shot him and shook his head. "Actually, Malika, I like checking out new places solo. Why don't you two get caught up, and I'll see you later around dinnertime?" Besides, I probably wouldn't have much of an appetite after hearing those two cooing like doves in the springtime all afternoon.
Raoul smiled a thank you and took Malika's arm as they departed. "Thanks for the warm welcome, sir. Raoul and Oriana couldn't have told you too many stories about me," Eziban commented, giving the two a headstart.
Liam chuckled. "Raoul speaks highly of you, Eziban. As for Oriana, I have trusted her judgment in matters far more crucial than this in the past." His expression darkened. "I know that you will do whatever you can to see that she comes to no harm."
"You can count on it," Eziban promised.
Raoul wrapped a gentle arm around Malika's shoulders as they strolled, and gave her a gentle squeeze every so often. She smiled back up at him and rested one hand on his, her blue eyes shining like a delphinium petal in the summer sunshine. Never in his life did he felt so complete as when this lovely, sweet elfmaiden that had stolen his heart was by his side.
They had met ten years ago, when he had made one of his many pilgrimages to the elven settlement to investigate the bracelet around his wrist and his past. Malika had been in their Hall of Records, looking up some ancient sheet music to play on her cello. The thought of a mysterious past had intrigued her, and she had agreed to help him search for any answers.
While Raoul may have never discovered anything about his ancestors, he did learn about the elven side of his cultural heritage. It was Malika who introduced him to the elven elders, who passed on stories of their rich history and arts. Malika had a winged soul that wished to fly all over their world. They had spent hours underneath the trees, trading elven lore for that he had learned from other countries during his duties as a Guardian. She had delighted in seeing Merna's wonders through his eyes, while he began fostering a deep love for the elven part of his history. After all of this time, he felt a kinship in his very soul with this place that was more a home than the Crystal Citadel had ever been.
As time went on, Raoul realized that, even more than his heritage, it was Malika that had truly found a place in his heart. He had never known as wonderful a day as when Malika had confessed that she felt the same, and hoped that things would stay like that forever.
Malika looked up at him and tweaked his nose playfully when she saw the faraway look in his soft brown eyes. "Where's your mind?" she asked teasingly, with a phony pout on her lips. "Certainly not with me!"
Raoul blushed and kissed her forehead, making her turn pink with pleasure in reply. "Always. What has happened in the years since I've been here last?"
Malika was all too glad to bring him around to greet all of their friends. Elendil, one of Deynain's best smiths, was outside working on his forge. Flames roared like dragonfire around him, but he never seemed to mind and actually encouraged them when he thought no one was looking. There was a good reason that Raoul had never introduced him to Aryn. Since Elendil was presently forging some fresh tuning pegs for the instruments of the many musicians found here and needed strong concentration for such finicky work, he invited the pair to come over and see him later.
Anarane, who had been Malika's very first cello teacher, was sitting on a stump outside of her small hut and brushing one of her many cats. "I don't know why I bother, since they get dirty and covered with burrs the second I let them go," she admitted to Malika. The cat in her lap mewed indignantly, but made no attempt to get away from the brushing.
"He's so beautiful," Malika commented, stopping to stroke the cat's inky black fur. The cat's mews swiftly turned to pleased purring at the intelligence of this elf to admire his finer qualities. "Did you look over the opening for my latest work?" she asked shyly.
Anarane grinned conspirationally, her eyes momentarily flicking to Raoul before back to the elfmaiden. "I did, but go take it over to Jenelya. Sometimes it's wise to get another's eye on it, even a violinist compared to us cellists." She made a move to get up, and the cat mewed again in protest. Defeated, Anarane sat down again and obediently resumed her brushing. "You know where it is?" she asked helplessly.
"Of course. Thank you, Anarane," Malika replied, trying to keep a straight face. Raoul chuckled behind his hand. Anarane's hut was as neat and tidy as she could keep it with three cats as roommates and elven children coming to her for lessons. Malika went straight to a bookshelf loaded with folders and plucked out the sheets of parchment housing her song. She silently read over the scribbles that Anarane had added in the margins, then took up Raoul's arm again for their next stop.
Jenelya's house was perched in a massive oak nearby, accessible only by a winding staircase. Outside was a long rope attached to a bell. Malika grabbed it and gave three short tugs, resulting in three loud bongs ringing through the air. "Jenelya, are you home?" she called.
Wails were suddenly heard from the house, and Malika turned bright red. A voice alternating between soothing noises and muttered Monsee curses interjected, until its owner stuck her head out a window. She was a vivacious young elf woman with lovely reddish chestnut hair to her shoulders and glasses perched on a tiny freckled nose. Her face went from scowl to smile in a heartbeat. "Malika, Raoul, huns, come on up! Maybe you can help me calm down this little Aidan back into his nap!"
"I didn't know that Jenelya and Patrick had a child!" Raoul whispered as they climbed up the stairs. The woven branch stairs creaked a bit under his weight, but thankfully held firm for his trip up.
"They do now, a little sweet named Aidan. She also loves to babysit her cousin, Feanaro," Malika whispered back.
Jenelya's hut was quite a bit messier than Anarane's, but somehow more endearing for it. The woman herself had a little baby cuddled in her arms, and was softly crooning an ancient elven lullaby to him. Aidan's wails slowly turned to contented gurgling, then blissful sleep. Raoul felt a sudden pang as he wondered if his mother had ever done the same for him, or if she had been the one with elven blood at all.
"I'm really sorry, Jenelya," Malika said quickly.
Jenelya waved it off. "It's okay. Let me put him down for his nap again and we'll have a nice talk." She brought the baby to a small cradle masterfully carved of birch wood by her husband. Hanging over it was a bunch of sunflowers, traditionally kept near little ones to keep them safe from bad spirits and bring joy to their young hearts. Next to this cradle was another, holding a slightly older baby sleeping sweetly.
Malika came over to investigate, her face taking on a madonna-like beauty as she gazed at the sleeping children. "They're adorable."
"How old is yours?" Raoul asked curiously, leaning over Malika's shoulder to get a closer look at them as well.
"Four months to the day," Jenelya replied proudly, setting a tray with a teapot and cups on the table. "The way he grips anything and bobs his head to my singing, I think we may have another musician in the works. Feanaro's already looking after him. Come now and eat, both of you."
The couple obeyed and sat down. Along with the tea was a pot of fragrant floral honey to sweeten it, and small golden biscuits with fresh butter. This was an elf who took hospitality seriously. "How have your lessons been going lately, Malika-girl?" Jenelya asked, passing Raoul the plate of biscuits. Raoul thanked her and accepted a few.
"Quite well, thank you. That oak bow that Patrick made me feels so much more natural in my hand when playing," Malika replied, dribbling a golden ribbon of honey into her tea.
Jenelya preened under the praise for her husband after she sipped from her own cup. "I thought it might. Any new songs I should be looking forward to hearing?"
"Oh, yes. There's one in particular, that I wanted you to look over..." Suddenly the elven maiden blushed and looked down.
"Oh? Perhaps in honor of your young man here?" Jenelya guessed with a nasty smile. Malika blushed even more, while Raoul smiled and patted her shoulder in a silent thank you and encouragement.
Jenelya shook her head in laughter. "My dear, love is nothing to be ashamed of! It's a gift to the people involved and to the whole of Merna!" She nodded at her little cousin, eyes soft with maternal devotion. "Feanaro has started his own path already. His Rite of Love was such a beautiful ceremony, and to follow will be the Rites of Imagination and Truth and-"
Malika suddenly flinched and drew back a little. Jenelya shot a questioning look at Raoul, who raised one shoulder in a small shrug. He wasn't quite certain why a mention of the special ceremonies that each elf went through in their life would upset Malika, but it clearly had. Her dreamy happiness from Raoul's arrival was gone.
They all made polite, if somewhat awkward, conversation throughout the rest of the tea before bidding farewell to their host and leaving Malika's composition to be looked over by one more pair of eyes.
Afterward, Raoul tugged Malika away from the houses of her people and along a path that led deeper into the forest. Malika was still quiet, lost in some injured thoughts, but Raoul was nothing if not patient. The leafy path they followed was well-used, and leading to a very special place in the heart of the forest. Branches from birches and oaks and elms touched overhead, making an arched walkway in this cathedral of forest, and beyond it lay their destination. Raoul could only hope that it was unoccupied now.
A small body of water, somewhere between a lake and a pond, glittered in the sunlight that remained in the day. Stately willows randomly grew at its shores, seemingly bowing to the water while wrapped in veils of drooping branches and fresh green leaves. Ferns were leafy fans against the dark and grayish browns of tree trunks. Dogwoods and roses were in full bloom here, adding a lovely tone to the mossy and damp earth aroma that permeated most of the forest.
Raoul couldn't explain it, but this place had always felt so much more alive than anywhere else in Merna, or even just Deynain itself. There was something more here that touched his heart, something just beyond his senses that filled him with a sense of wonder. No brush stroke, no poetic line had ever been able to capture what he felt. Malika had tried composing a melody to it countless times, and had nearly given up.
Near the shore of the small lake was a young willow with roots that served as a seat. Raoul sat down under this, while Malika plopped down in his lap and leaned her head against his chest. They were quiet for some time, Raoul wrapping his arms around the elfmaiden in support as they watched small ripples lap the forest floor, until he finally asked, "What's troubling you?"
"It's nothing. A small thing compared to now," Malika answered distantly, her eyes still on the water.
Raoul could feel something in her spirit that said differently, but waited for her to gather her thoughts. After a few moments, Malika half-turned to face him, her blue eyes worried. "It's the Rite of Truth, Raoul. Ethan went through his last year, when he passed his first century. You know of the rites, don't you?"
Raoul nodded. The rites were special ceremonies that marked an elf's milestones in life, and each was tied to a particular virtue. Newborns had the Rite of Love, those who had reached their half-century had the Rite of Imagination, the hundredth year was marked by the Rite of Truth, and so on for many half-centuries
When Raoul had turned fifty, he had asked Bachlan for a leave from his duties to visit the elven settlement to arrange his next rite, and had been denied. He had tried again when he had reached his one hundredth birthday, but Bachlan had sent him to prevent lightning-lit wildfires in the forests of the east. After that, Raoul had given up and celebrated his birthdays the way the other Guardians did, and was never certain if he had been put through the first Rite of Love or not.
"Ethan seems well. I don't understand your fears," Raoul confessed, moving a stray green hair out of Malika's face.
Malika sighed a little. "You weren't there. The first part of the ceremony was fine with the pledges and his declaration of the truths in his own life. After that was the dinner, and then..." She paused, then looked away. "...something odd happened. I hadn't seen Ethan for a while, and when he came to sit next to me, he looked very sad. As if he had lost hope of something."
Raoul gave her a gentle squeeze. "Did he tell you why?"
Malika shook her head, tears threatening to fall. "He said that he could not. The strange part is that after that day, Ethan stopped supporting my beliefs that we should share our cultural treasures with the rest of Merna."
Raoul was more puzzled than ever. The way that elves cherished life and all its forms would prevent anything hurtful in a celebration affirming a new stage of life. It was true that Ethan had been more quiet and thoughtful last year, he could admit now, but Ethan was closer to his old self now.
Then Raoul looked down into Malika's face and forgot about Ethan. "You're strong, Malika. Truth is a part of your nature, a part I admire. Whatever this rite involves, I'll be by your side when it happens."
Malika smiled up at him, a hint of impishness mixed with sadness. "Don't make promises you can't keep," she admonished him gently, touching the tip of his nose with a faintly scolding finger. "You're a Guardian first. Whatever we have, it must take second place to that."
Raoul wished he could deny it, but he could not. Somehow, they had to stop Bachlan before their world and everyone and everything they loved in it was gone. Once that was accomplished, and they had some time...
Time. Neither he nor Eziban bore their powers, and even the elves wouldn't be able to smash through the barrier around the Crystal Citadel. With no plan for the moment, surely it wouldn't be selfish for the two of them to have some quiet time together.
With no answer to make, Raoul leaned against the willow trunk as Malika settled herself more comfortably in his arms. They remained that way for some time, having no need of speech. Their intertwining spirits and the comfort each drew from the other were a communication that no words could hope to match.
Eziban stretched his arms up to the sun upon leaving the building, enjoying the fresh air and the feel of good living earth under his feet instead of masses of crystal suspended in the sky. He didn't mind being left on his own to look around, and had the feeling he'd used up his teasing privileges for the day.
Besides, it gave him a chance to check out the local stonework at his own pace. Eziban had had a relatively normal life before becoming a Guardian, growing up as the third son of a mason and a mage. Both of his parents had taught him much about how to physically and magically work with rock while in his youth. After Raoul's tales of this place, he wanted to see just what the elves were capable of for himself, and maybe even acquire some fresh inspiration for his own projects.
What impressed him most was how the elves had worked their homes to blend in harmoniously with the trees, as if the stone structures were merely extensions of the leafy giants. While rock may not have been alive in the organic sense, they all tuned into magic in distinctive ways, and some types were easier to work with than others. The limestone and granite had to have been quarried nearby.
They were also especially fine craftfolk, he found as he examined the infirmary. This building had been made to last, and had done so if the somewhat softened corners were any indication. Some of the designs cut into the stone seemed to be practical as well as aesthetic, and more than a few added various magical qualities to it. How on Merna had they managed to cut so hard a stone so perfectly?
"Something catch your interest?" a voice called. Tayn appeared to have finished his errands and was watching him, a smile on his face.
"Yeah, just admiring your handywork here. I've never seen a shaping system quite like this before, and this granite feels a little different," the Earth Guardian replied, rapping the stone with his knuckles. He winced at its unusual hardness.
Tayn's eyebrows rose in respect. "You catch on fast, magic or otherwise. This land is practically bursting with magical power, for a special reason. That power surges through the ground, which is one reason why the trees are so hardy and large. It also affects the rock deposits near here, enhancing their physical and inate magical properties."
"Makes sense," Eziban said, taking a closer look. Damn, but he wished he still had his magic right about now. "It doesn't affect the carving process?"
"The stones are extra sensitive due to this, so chiselers especially have to be careful," Tayn admitted. He paused as if in indecision, then added, "If you have time, there's something you might want to see."
"Lead the way." The elf nodded and walked to a relatively large building crafted of that same thick grayish granite, with windows of clear quartz crystals. Odd yet ornate carvings decorated the stone over the door and walls, faintly sparking with magical power.
The inside was filled with clusters of elves in long robes, many carrying scrolls and books around. Plaques and cases of magical oddities lined the walls between doors, and the magical power swimming in the air was thick enough to warrant a sneeze.
"Our school of magic. We carry out experiments in weaving elemental magic with that of Merna's gifts, including various stones that contain their own inate power. We have been able to recreate many magical artifacts of old, and we have invented a great many as well," Tayn explained. He went to an enormous wooden chest and opened it with a magical gesture.
Eziban gasped as he gazed at the treasure trove inside. His gaze could only rest on one flawless gem momentarily before it was yanked to another. Never in his life had he seen a collection of stones so perfectly formed, and each almost hummed with power. The sheer variety was enormous, from common stones and iron ore to the ultra-rare violet diamond and dawnstone. His fingers itched to take out and work with just one of these beauties, maybe that fire opal in the corner.
Suddenly, he felt something a little different, a sense of something...purer. Frowning, he looked at the underside of the chest lid, then reached a finger to it. The bottom of the lid dropped down, becoming a hidden display case of a circle of various quartzes.
His companion yelped in shock. "How did you-" Tayn began. Eziban leaned closer, ignoring him. Finely faceted clear crystal quartz, shimmering blue, deep amethyst, blushing rose... every member of the quartz family was here. He had studied and handled all of these gems before, but these...they were almost glowing, and were absolutely perfect in structure.
"I'm guessing that these were affected more than the others?" Eziban asked, not waiting for a confirmation. "That's probably why I could sense them."
Tayn hesitated, but seemed to realize it was too late to keep mum about them by now. "That's right. Because of their shape and properties, they are extremely powerful for magical protection and neutralization and have helped keep us safe from time out of mind. These are known as the Sacred Stars."
"What are stones like these capable of?" Eziban almost whispered in awe.
"In the right hands, who knows?" Tayn asked with a shrug, shutting the case. He then turned to face the Guardian, his expression suddenly stern. "What you have found, only the members of Liam's family and mages know exist. Take it as a great sign of trust that you were shown this case, human, but do not abuse that trust." His voice lowered. "We have been betrayed by Guardians once before, and our memories are long."
"I don't believe in betraying folk who save your skin," Eziban replied seriously, looking the elf straight in the eyes.
Tayn nodded, although a hint of a shadow remained in his eyes yet. "There is more to see," was his guarded response. Eziban glanced back once more at the case before following the elf to continue his tour, thrusting his hands in his pockets. A frown creased his brow as he thought over that last statement.
'Betrayed by Guardians once before'? What on Merna does he mean by that, exactly?
Liam stood by one of his windows after Eziban had left, his eyes troubled as he gazed over his people. He was more than happy to play host to Raoul and Eziban, but couldn't help but wonder what kind of repercussions it could bring to his people from Bachlan. Mercy had never been among the man's redeeming qualities.
Ethan came in, rapping on the door only after he had entered from habit. "Grandfather, the scouts and mages you ordered are in place."
"Thank you, my boy," Liam replied distantly, not turning around.
Ethan ignored the hint to leave him with his thoughts. "How long are you going to keep up this farce?" he demanded, irritation and respect battling in his tone. "Raoul and Malika need to know what's going on. Not only for themselves, but also for their responsibilities."
Liam winced as he finally turned around. Ethan had stopped supporting Malika's push to reconnect with the rest of Merna since his Rite of Truth, but now he sounded like his old self. "Give them more time. It has been months since they last saw each other-"
"Elves or no, we don't have the luxury of time!" Ethan snapped, coming into the center of the room. Clearly, his irritation had won. "The time is now. Have you forgotten your own Rite of Truth, Grandfather? Because I remember mine from last year all too well."
Liam sighed in defeat. Ethan adored his little sister, and this had to be killing him. But Liam also knew that there was more at stake here than a romance, even one involving the granddaughter he cherished so much. His eyes were heavy with sadness as he finally replied, "You are correct. Maybe in trying to be a grandfather, I have forgotten that I am also a leader of our people." He glanced once more out the window, and added, "Please inform Nienna and the other ritual preparers that I require two sets of the special clothing and other arrangements ready for the next night of Girith's fullness."
Ethan nodded and started for the door, then paused in confusion as the rest of his grandfather's request sank in. "Two?"
"Yes, two," Liam answered steadily, his jaw taking on a determined set. It was good to have made a decision at last. "Raoul and Malika have given their hearts to one another. Therefore, they will undergo their rite together."
It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men's hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of air, that emanation from old trees, that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit.
Robert Louis Stevenson
Soft silver light filtered through birch and oak branches in the Forests of Deynain, giving an ethereal quality to the grounds below the thick canopy. The sweet calls of birds were everywhere, although all one could see of the little singers was an occasional flash of brilliant color amongst the emerald leaves. Added to their music was the murmuring and bubbling of many streams and springs, the rustle of leaves in a cool breeze, and the scurrying of squirrels across branches. Dew-kissed blossoms and mossy soil breathed out a scent of new life.
Two elves, still young adults at just over a century each and mounted on the intelligent and swift birds known as lleyts, were out trying to enjoy their usual morning ride through the tranquility. The birds raised their heads gaily as their clawed feet hit the moss and they chirped along with their tiny cousins, but the mood was lost on their riders. One kept his head down, seemingly focusing on the sparse leather harness used on the lleyts. His friend waited for the explanation that was sure to come, certain that it wouldn't take long.
He was right. "My sister had another argument with Grandfather last night, Tayn," the glum one finally remarked.
His friend hadn't expected this outcome and titled his head in puzzlement. "You're kidding, Ethan! Malika?! What on Merna for?"
Ethan's posture slumped a little more. "She tried to convince him to allow some of her healer friends to go to Sagia or Mila to study, but he wouldn't even hear of it. Everyone knows that their healers have techniques we've never thought of, but you know Grandfather."
Tayn nodded in agreement. "He's a good leader, and we know he wants to keep Deynain safe," he remarked slowly, not wanting to badmouth the city's leader and his friend's grandpa. Then again... "But how long does he expect our people to stay hidden in the forest like newborn kittens huddled against their mother?"
Ethan finally shrugged and remarked, "Malika would be forever in your debt if you could-"
He stopped and squinted at something ahead of them on the path. No, two somethings. Two enormous lumps that looked like people were sprawled out on the grass, one significantly larger than the other.
The elf let out a sharp whistle to his lleyt to dash over, Tayn right on his tail. Their lleyts obeyed, breaking into a fast run that nearly jolted Ethan off of his mount and made him sit up properly. The figures didn't move at all, and soon proved to be two unconscious men. Ethan dismounted to take a closer look, then suddenly gasped as he recognized the giant part-elf. "Well, well, here's a familiar face! Raoul! But, who's this other one?"
Tayn squinted at the smaller man, remembering descriptions he had heard from Raoul of his colleagues. "I think that's his friend Eziban, the holder of the earth essence. But, why would they both be here in the middle of our forest like this?" He looked around, not seeing any steeds or vehicles of any kind that would have brought them here. They hadn't seen or heard any landings of one of the Guardians' ships during the ride. There weren't even any footprints to be seen on the path!
Ethan couldn't answer his friend's query. He briskly checked over Raoul while Tayn did the same for Eziban. The pair didn't have any injuries that the elves could detect, but Ethan knew that Malika would insist on making sure that they were all right herself, and especially her beloved Raoul. "We'd better bring them back on the lleyts and get them examined by the family expert. Give me a hand?"
His friend obliged and the two managed to hoist each man onto the back of a bird. The lleyts looked quizzically at their burdens, then at each other, but did not object. Taking up the ropes used to guide the birds, the elves walked them back through the cathedral of forest to their home.
Luckily, Malika was at home when they got back. She was tall and slender, with jade-colored hair that tumbled just past her shoulders in smooth waves and a dusting of gold on her creamy skin. She was sitting outside the family home on a stool, dressed in a softly draped robe of fresh blue, reverently playing her cello.
Her sky-blue eyes were closed as an impromptu, deep-throated melody flowed from the bow caressing the strings. Her upper body unconsciously swayed along with each bowstroke. When Malika played like this, she gave over heart and soul to her music, and nothing could rouse her.
Ethan cupped his hands around his mouth. "Malika, we have some very important patients for you to look at!"
Almost nothing could rouse her.
Malika opened her eyes quickly, seeming like she was waking up. With the utmost care, she placed her beloved instrument and bow in their case and locked it up.
With that done, she lifted her robe slightly and dashed over to see the men draped over the lleyts. Her face turned milk white as she realized their identities, and her fingers automatically reached out to Raoul's wrist to feel a pulse. Oh, praise be, it was still going strong.
"Raoul! How did...?" She caught herself and shook it off, then seemed to stand taller and enter a kind of calm. "Never mind that. Bring them inside, and stoke up the fire. Bring my bag of supplies, please. Hurry." Her brother and his friend quickly obeyed the healer's authority in her voice, running off for wood and Malika's bag after getting their charges settled.
It was only when Malika was alone and began her examination that her calm demeanor broke. She blessed the fact that they didn't seem physically hurt in any way that she could tell. Still, her fingers trembled as she gently touched Raoul's soft cheek, shocked at the complete lack of magic in his system. His friend was in the same condition, and it didn't make any sense.
"What has happened to you, my heart's own? Who has done this, and why?" she whispered. That dear, beloved face with its soulful brown eyes now closed gave her no clues. He wasn't grimacing or in pain, but just seemed very tired and resting deeply.
Tayn came into the infirmary with the wood and Ethan followed with her healer's bag, breaking her reverie. Malika managed to put aside her worries for later to start brewing some healing herbal teas. She was sure that Raoul would have a lot to tell her when he woke up, and she couldn't let her nerves prevent her from caring for them properly. Uninjured or not, the body could have adverse reactions to a complete draining, and she intended to minimize those as much as possible.
Seeing that Malika had things well in hand, Tayn and Ethan decided that it might not be a bad idea to take the lleyts out again for a quick scouting trip. Their people tended to be wary of Bachlan's regime and ways of doing things, and having two of his Guardians dumped on their doorstep in this condition was not a good sign.
Raoul slowly floated back up to consciousness in a warm bed that smelled of sunshine, feeling like his muscles weren't quite cooperating. No doubt it was a temporary side effect of having his thunder power leeched away. A cool wet cloth was resting on his forehead, and he could smell herbal tea.
His nose twitched in recognition. It wasn't just any tea, but the boysenberry that was a favorite of...
Raoul quickly sat up, and the cloth slid onto the floor. A blazing joy entered his heart at seeing that pretty face brighten at his waking up, as if it were the first ray of sunshine after a terrible storm. "Malika?!"
"Raoul! I'm so glad you're all right!" the elfmaiden replied joyfully, throwing her arms around him in delight. Raoul laughed and hugged her back, burying his hands in that mass of soft hair to assure himself that this was no dream and feeling the warmth of her spirit that confirmed she was real. His happiness at seeing her again temporarily blotted the pain and confusion from Bachlan's actions.
Malika shyly tipped her head up, waiting for his kiss. Raoul obliged, cradling her head with one gentle hand and feeling like time was standing still. For that one moment, all was right in his world. Malika had always been able to bring peace and strength to his heart, while she always insisted that he had those qualities already. He didn't know if that was true, but it meant all of Merna to him that she believed it.
Malika reluctantly wriggled away to glance over at the figure in the next bed that was snoring like a buzzsaw trying to hack through a cannonball. She raised her eyebrows at the sheer volume of the sound, wondering if she'd missed something in her examination of him. "Um, this is Eziban, right? He should be waking up soon."
"Was anyone else with us, my dear? A woman with kamas and blue-purple and silver hair? A black and red-haired swordswoman? A silver-haired archer? A blond man in white robes?" Raoul asked hopefully.
Malika shook her head at each description as Raoul's face sank further and further. She laid her hand on his in a comforting gesture. "I am sorry, Raoul, but you were the only ones brought to me. What happened, that you ended up here like this?" A thought came to her. "Did Oriana send you for some reason?"
Raoul was wondering where on Merna to begin when a loud groan erupted from the next bed over. Eziban sat up groggily, glancing around the interior of the wooden building in confusion and clutching his head slightly as if light-headed. "Unnngrrrhhhh, but I always stop shots before my limit...." he murmured, then spotted the pair. His dazed look cleared up a bit. "Raoul, where are we?"
"You're in our infirmary, in the forests of Deynain. I am Malika," the elfmaiden stated. She reached for the two mugs of tea she had brewed, added just a touch of honey to each and swirled the mugs to mix them, then handed them to the men. "Drink this down, both of you. It's an herbal tonic that will help your bodies recover after the magical draining."
Eziban accepted his and grinned in realization, looking from his slightly blushing friend who was drinking the tea as if it were Merna's finest wine back to the elfmaiden. So this was the famous Malika that Raoul had been mooning over all this time, and it was clear that the feeling was mutual. "My name's Eziban. You're even more gorgeous than Raoul claimed!"
Now both of them were blushing, although Raoul's expression had a pinch of unhappiness in it. Eziban mistook it for jealousy and slapped his friend's shoulder. "Ah, don't worry, bro. She's a beauty and all, but she's not my type. I like 'em with some more muscle on... them..."
They were both staring at him in shock, and Eziban realized he'd erred. Now he was the one blushing. "I should really shut up now, shouldn't I?" The pair nodded. Eziban made a show of gulping down the rest of his tea, signaling that he was done making a fool of himself.
Raoul had finished his tea, and was already feeling stronger. Whether it was from the herbs or Malika's nearness, he didn't know. "Is Liam still the leader here?" he asked, trying to get the subject back to business. Malika nodded. "Can you bring us to him? There's something you all should know about Bachlan and the entire Guardianship."
"Of course," Malika answered, then leaned over and gave Raoul a tender kiss on the cheek. "Welcome back home, my love," she whispered in his ear. Raoul flushed as he rose and took Malika's arm to walk together into Deynain proper. Eziban followed with a small smirk on his face.
Deynain was a lovely settlement, crafted from the beginning to be in harmony with the forests around it. Houses were built of wood and local stone and located between, at the bottom of, or even perched in trees. Roofs were thatched with tightly interwoven branches and long grass. Small, well-tended gardens of flowers and vegetables took advantage of every pool of sunlight the leafy green roof admitted. For the most part, the elves preferred utilizing the magic of nature over technology and lived a very earthy existence.
Everywhere were elves dressed in either leather clothing or soft long robes, their eyes curious yet welcoming at the sight of the well-known Raoul visiting with a stranger. Raoul remembered to slightly bow his head to each of the older elves they passed, while Eziban just nodded his respects. While the elves tried to mostly keep to themselves, they treated what guests they had with warm hospitality.
Malika led them to an enormous longhouse situated beneath a majestic oak. It held not only the leader's residence, but also the community's Great Hall for gatherings and ceremonies. The entrance lintel was skillfully carved with images of various wildlife found in their domain, and wooden shutters were open to catch the breeze. It was obviously meant to welcome anyone and be humble before the greater glories of Merna's own artistry.
Standing inside the Great Hall portion were Ethan, Tayn, and a very tall elf that made even Raoul look small. This elf had leaf green hair cut just beneath his pointed ears and eyes of a deep slate gray. He was lean and tanned from plenty of outdoor work, and a sturdy longbow and quiver of arrows rested on his back. He also possessed a sense of authority equal to, but very different from, Bachlan's own as he leaned forward slightly to listen to the two younger elves.
"...all else seems quiet there. That is the situation as of now, Liam," Tayn was saying, obviously finishing a report of some kind.
The older elf nodded, a flicker of uncertainty flashing in his eyes. "Thank you, Tayn, Ethan." He looked over and noticed the new arrivals, his face breaking into a warm and welcoming smile. "Here are two who may be able to answer some of our questions. Welcome back to Deynain, son of our people. Welcome for the first time, friend of our son."
Raoul stepped forward to receive Liam's blessing with a shy smile and did the introductions between Eziban and the elves. Eziban shook everyone's hands strongly, seeing the genuine fatherly affection in Liam's eyes as he smiled down at Raoul.
It was impossible to believe that there had been a wall between these two when Raoul and Malika had begun a friendship that had blossomed into love. A few years after the two lovebirds had met, there had been a terrible explosion at the magic school here that had badly injured nearly all of their healers and many others who had tried to evacuate them. Of these, Liam had been in the most critical condition after trying to get out as many students as possible.
It was Malika, with what was left of her healing magic barely keeping her in one piece, who had ridden to the Citadel to beg for help. Oriana and Raoul had immediately come to their aid.
After seeing how tenderly Raoul cared for his granddaughter and how he never left her side, Liam had consented to their courtship. He and Oriana had also developed a strong respect for each other while she was tending to his wounds.
"I only wish your arrival could be celebrated properly, but I'm afraid that we have questions that cannot wait. What has been happening at the Crystal Citadel?" Liam asked promptly.
Raoul knew that the leader was trustworthy, and began telling their story with Eziban throwing in bits as needed. Liam's expression grew graver and graver as he listened closely, while the younger elves gasped.
"How could even he think that such a thing is serving Merna?!" Malika demanded, her face white with fury and fists clenched.
Tayn's and Ethan's expressions were dark. "There's more. We took a trip while you two were recovering, and found out that Bachlan has surrounded the entire Citadel with a magical barrier that we can't punch through. If you've lost your power and can't do it either, then we're going to have to wait," Tayn added grimly, his arms folded across his chest.
Eziban cursed and slammed a fist against the wall. The sudden pain of having his fist come in contact with stone cleared his head immediately. "I don't like the idea of leaving Oriana locked up in there while Bachlan tries who-the-hell-knows-what to get the last of her essence, but I guess there's nothing else we can do for now. We'll have to think of something," he replied, massaging his knuckles.
Raoul was deep in thought. He suddenly asked, "Can your mages perhaps try searching for our friends?"
Liam hesitated. He would prefer to save his mages' efforts for mounting a defense against this tyrant, but he owed Raoul and Oriana at least a try. "Tayn, have one of our mages on standby in case anything changes with this barrier, and have another try scrying. Ethan, see to getting scouts posted. If anything changes, no matter the hour, I want to be informed immediately."
The two elves nodded and gave Raoul and Eziban friendly slaps on the back as they left. Liam turned back to his guests, a great sadness in his eyes. "You both have Deynain as a refuge for as long as is needed. You need not worry about any of our people betraying your whereabouts to Bachlan, I assure you."
Raoul sighed in relief, grateful for the time to try and think of what to do next. "Thank you, Liam."
"Eziban, would you like a tour of the city?" Malika offered.
Eziban caught the pleading glance that Raoul shot him and shook his head. "Actually, Malika, I like checking out new places solo. Why don't you two get caught up, and I'll see you later around dinnertime?" Besides, I probably wouldn't have much of an appetite after hearing those two cooing like doves in the springtime all afternoon.
Raoul smiled a thank you and took Malika's arm as they departed. "Thanks for the warm welcome, sir. Raoul and Oriana couldn't have told you too many stories about me," Eziban commented, giving the two a headstart.
Liam chuckled. "Raoul speaks highly of you, Eziban. As for Oriana, I have trusted her judgment in matters far more crucial than this in the past." His expression darkened. "I know that you will do whatever you can to see that she comes to no harm."
"You can count on it," Eziban promised.
Raoul wrapped a gentle arm around Malika's shoulders as they strolled, and gave her a gentle squeeze every so often. She smiled back up at him and rested one hand on his, her blue eyes shining like a delphinium petal in the summer sunshine. Never in his life did he felt so complete as when this lovely, sweet elfmaiden that had stolen his heart was by his side.
They had met ten years ago, when he had made one of his many pilgrimages to the elven settlement to investigate the bracelet around his wrist and his past. Malika had been in their Hall of Records, looking up some ancient sheet music to play on her cello. The thought of a mysterious past had intrigued her, and she had agreed to help him search for any answers.
While Raoul may have never discovered anything about his ancestors, he did learn about the elven side of his cultural heritage. It was Malika who introduced him to the elven elders, who passed on stories of their rich history and arts. Malika had a winged soul that wished to fly all over their world. They had spent hours underneath the trees, trading elven lore for that he had learned from other countries during his duties as a Guardian. She had delighted in seeing Merna's wonders through his eyes, while he began fostering a deep love for the elven part of his history. After all of this time, he felt a kinship in his very soul with this place that was more a home than the Crystal Citadel had ever been.
As time went on, Raoul realized that, even more than his heritage, it was Malika that had truly found a place in his heart. He had never known as wonderful a day as when Malika had confessed that she felt the same, and hoped that things would stay like that forever.
Malika looked up at him and tweaked his nose playfully when she saw the faraway look in his soft brown eyes. "Where's your mind?" she asked teasingly, with a phony pout on her lips. "Certainly not with me!"
Raoul blushed and kissed her forehead, making her turn pink with pleasure in reply. "Always. What has happened in the years since I've been here last?"
Malika was all too glad to bring him around to greet all of their friends. Elendil, one of Deynain's best smiths, was outside working on his forge. Flames roared like dragonfire around him, but he never seemed to mind and actually encouraged them when he thought no one was looking. There was a good reason that Raoul had never introduced him to Aryn. Since Elendil was presently forging some fresh tuning pegs for the instruments of the many musicians found here and needed strong concentration for such finicky work, he invited the pair to come over and see him later.
Anarane, who had been Malika's very first cello teacher, was sitting on a stump outside of her small hut and brushing one of her many cats. "I don't know why I bother, since they get dirty and covered with burrs the second I let them go," she admitted to Malika. The cat in her lap mewed indignantly, but made no attempt to get away from the brushing.
"He's so beautiful," Malika commented, stopping to stroke the cat's inky black fur. The cat's mews swiftly turned to pleased purring at the intelligence of this elf to admire his finer qualities. "Did you look over the opening for my latest work?" she asked shyly.
Anarane grinned conspirationally, her eyes momentarily flicking to Raoul before back to the elfmaiden. "I did, but go take it over to Jenelya. Sometimes it's wise to get another's eye on it, even a violinist compared to us cellists." She made a move to get up, and the cat mewed again in protest. Defeated, Anarane sat down again and obediently resumed her brushing. "You know where it is?" she asked helplessly.
"Of course. Thank you, Anarane," Malika replied, trying to keep a straight face. Raoul chuckled behind his hand. Anarane's hut was as neat and tidy as she could keep it with three cats as roommates and elven children coming to her for lessons. Malika went straight to a bookshelf loaded with folders and plucked out the sheets of parchment housing her song. She silently read over the scribbles that Anarane had added in the margins, then took up Raoul's arm again for their next stop.
Jenelya's house was perched in a massive oak nearby, accessible only by a winding staircase. Outside was a long rope attached to a bell. Malika grabbed it and gave three short tugs, resulting in three loud bongs ringing through the air. "Jenelya, are you home?" she called.
Wails were suddenly heard from the house, and Malika turned bright red. A voice alternating between soothing noises and muttered Monsee curses interjected, until its owner stuck her head out a window. She was a vivacious young elf woman with lovely reddish chestnut hair to her shoulders and glasses perched on a tiny freckled nose. Her face went from scowl to smile in a heartbeat. "Malika, Raoul, huns, come on up! Maybe you can help me calm down this little Aidan back into his nap!"
"I didn't know that Jenelya and Patrick had a child!" Raoul whispered as they climbed up the stairs. The woven branch stairs creaked a bit under his weight, but thankfully held firm for his trip up.
"They do now, a little sweet named Aidan. She also loves to babysit her cousin, Feanaro," Malika whispered back.
Jenelya's hut was quite a bit messier than Anarane's, but somehow more endearing for it. The woman herself had a little baby cuddled in her arms, and was softly crooning an ancient elven lullaby to him. Aidan's wails slowly turned to contented gurgling, then blissful sleep. Raoul felt a sudden pang as he wondered if his mother had ever done the same for him, or if she had been the one with elven blood at all.
"I'm really sorry, Jenelya," Malika said quickly.
Jenelya waved it off. "It's okay. Let me put him down for his nap again and we'll have a nice talk." She brought the baby to a small cradle masterfully carved of birch wood by her husband. Hanging over it was a bunch of sunflowers, traditionally kept near little ones to keep them safe from bad spirits and bring joy to their young hearts. Next to this cradle was another, holding a slightly older baby sleeping sweetly.
Malika came over to investigate, her face taking on a madonna-like beauty as she gazed at the sleeping children. "They're adorable."
"How old is yours?" Raoul asked curiously, leaning over Malika's shoulder to get a closer look at them as well.
"Four months to the day," Jenelya replied proudly, setting a tray with a teapot and cups on the table. "The way he grips anything and bobs his head to my singing, I think we may have another musician in the works. Feanaro's already looking after him. Come now and eat, both of you."
The couple obeyed and sat down. Along with the tea was a pot of fragrant floral honey to sweeten it, and small golden biscuits with fresh butter. This was an elf who took hospitality seriously. "How have your lessons been going lately, Malika-girl?" Jenelya asked, passing Raoul the plate of biscuits. Raoul thanked her and accepted a few.
"Quite well, thank you. That oak bow that Patrick made me feels so much more natural in my hand when playing," Malika replied, dribbling a golden ribbon of honey into her tea.
Jenelya preened under the praise for her husband after she sipped from her own cup. "I thought it might. Any new songs I should be looking forward to hearing?"
"Oh, yes. There's one in particular, that I wanted you to look over..." Suddenly the elven maiden blushed and looked down.
"Oh? Perhaps in honor of your young man here?" Jenelya guessed with a nasty smile. Malika blushed even more, while Raoul smiled and patted her shoulder in a silent thank you and encouragement.
Jenelya shook her head in laughter. "My dear, love is nothing to be ashamed of! It's a gift to the people involved and to the whole of Merna!" She nodded at her little cousin, eyes soft with maternal devotion. "Feanaro has started his own path already. His Rite of Love was such a beautiful ceremony, and to follow will be the Rites of Imagination and Truth and-"
Malika suddenly flinched and drew back a little. Jenelya shot a questioning look at Raoul, who raised one shoulder in a small shrug. He wasn't quite certain why a mention of the special ceremonies that each elf went through in their life would upset Malika, but it clearly had. Her dreamy happiness from Raoul's arrival was gone.
They all made polite, if somewhat awkward, conversation throughout the rest of the tea before bidding farewell to their host and leaving Malika's composition to be looked over by one more pair of eyes.
Afterward, Raoul tugged Malika away from the houses of her people and along a path that led deeper into the forest. Malika was still quiet, lost in some injured thoughts, but Raoul was nothing if not patient. The leafy path they followed was well-used, and leading to a very special place in the heart of the forest. Branches from birches and oaks and elms touched overhead, making an arched walkway in this cathedral of forest, and beyond it lay their destination. Raoul could only hope that it was unoccupied now.
A small body of water, somewhere between a lake and a pond, glittered in the sunlight that remained in the day. Stately willows randomly grew at its shores, seemingly bowing to the water while wrapped in veils of drooping branches and fresh green leaves. Ferns were leafy fans against the dark and grayish browns of tree trunks. Dogwoods and roses were in full bloom here, adding a lovely tone to the mossy and damp earth aroma that permeated most of the forest.
Raoul couldn't explain it, but this place had always felt so much more alive than anywhere else in Merna, or even just Deynain itself. There was something more here that touched his heart, something just beyond his senses that filled him with a sense of wonder. No brush stroke, no poetic line had ever been able to capture what he felt. Malika had tried composing a melody to it countless times, and had nearly given up.
Near the shore of the small lake was a young willow with roots that served as a seat. Raoul sat down under this, while Malika plopped down in his lap and leaned her head against his chest. They were quiet for some time, Raoul wrapping his arms around the elfmaiden in support as they watched small ripples lap the forest floor, until he finally asked, "What's troubling you?"
"It's nothing. A small thing compared to now," Malika answered distantly, her eyes still on the water.
Raoul could feel something in her spirit that said differently, but waited for her to gather her thoughts. After a few moments, Malika half-turned to face him, her blue eyes worried. "It's the Rite of Truth, Raoul. Ethan went through his last year, when he passed his first century. You know of the rites, don't you?"
Raoul nodded. The rites were special ceremonies that marked an elf's milestones in life, and each was tied to a particular virtue. Newborns had the Rite of Love, those who had reached their half-century had the Rite of Imagination, the hundredth year was marked by the Rite of Truth, and so on for many half-centuries
When Raoul had turned fifty, he had asked Bachlan for a leave from his duties to visit the elven settlement to arrange his next rite, and had been denied. He had tried again when he had reached his one hundredth birthday, but Bachlan had sent him to prevent lightning-lit wildfires in the forests of the east. After that, Raoul had given up and celebrated his birthdays the way the other Guardians did, and was never certain if he had been put through the first Rite of Love or not.
"Ethan seems well. I don't understand your fears," Raoul confessed, moving a stray green hair out of Malika's face.
Malika sighed a little. "You weren't there. The first part of the ceremony was fine with the pledges and his declaration of the truths in his own life. After that was the dinner, and then..." She paused, then looked away. "...something odd happened. I hadn't seen Ethan for a while, and when he came to sit next to me, he looked very sad. As if he had lost hope of something."
Raoul gave her a gentle squeeze. "Did he tell you why?"
Malika shook her head, tears threatening to fall. "He said that he could not. The strange part is that after that day, Ethan stopped supporting my beliefs that we should share our cultural treasures with the rest of Merna."
Raoul was more puzzled than ever. The way that elves cherished life and all its forms would prevent anything hurtful in a celebration affirming a new stage of life. It was true that Ethan had been more quiet and thoughtful last year, he could admit now, but Ethan was closer to his old self now.
Then Raoul looked down into Malika's face and forgot about Ethan. "You're strong, Malika. Truth is a part of your nature, a part I admire. Whatever this rite involves, I'll be by your side when it happens."
Malika smiled up at him, a hint of impishness mixed with sadness. "Don't make promises you can't keep," she admonished him gently, touching the tip of his nose with a faintly scolding finger. "You're a Guardian first. Whatever we have, it must take second place to that."
Raoul wished he could deny it, but he could not. Somehow, they had to stop Bachlan before their world and everyone and everything they loved in it was gone. Once that was accomplished, and they had some time...
Time. Neither he nor Eziban bore their powers, and even the elves wouldn't be able to smash through the barrier around the Crystal Citadel. With no plan for the moment, surely it wouldn't be selfish for the two of them to have some quiet time together.
With no answer to make, Raoul leaned against the willow trunk as Malika settled herself more comfortably in his arms. They remained that way for some time, having no need of speech. Their intertwining spirits and the comfort each drew from the other were a communication that no words could hope to match.
Eziban stretched his arms up to the sun upon leaving the building, enjoying the fresh air and the feel of good living earth under his feet instead of masses of crystal suspended in the sky. He didn't mind being left on his own to look around, and had the feeling he'd used up his teasing privileges for the day.
Besides, it gave him a chance to check out the local stonework at his own pace. Eziban had had a relatively normal life before becoming a Guardian, growing up as the third son of a mason and a mage. Both of his parents had taught him much about how to physically and magically work with rock while in his youth. After Raoul's tales of this place, he wanted to see just what the elves were capable of for himself, and maybe even acquire some fresh inspiration for his own projects.
What impressed him most was how the elves had worked their homes to blend in harmoniously with the trees, as if the stone structures were merely extensions of the leafy giants. While rock may not have been alive in the organic sense, they all tuned into magic in distinctive ways, and some types were easier to work with than others. The limestone and granite had to have been quarried nearby.
They were also especially fine craftfolk, he found as he examined the infirmary. This building had been made to last, and had done so if the somewhat softened corners were any indication. Some of the designs cut into the stone seemed to be practical as well as aesthetic, and more than a few added various magical qualities to it. How on Merna had they managed to cut so hard a stone so perfectly?
"Something catch your interest?" a voice called. Tayn appeared to have finished his errands and was watching him, a smile on his face.
"Yeah, just admiring your handywork here. I've never seen a shaping system quite like this before, and this granite feels a little different," the Earth Guardian replied, rapping the stone with his knuckles. He winced at its unusual hardness.
Tayn's eyebrows rose in respect. "You catch on fast, magic or otherwise. This land is practically bursting with magical power, for a special reason. That power surges through the ground, which is one reason why the trees are so hardy and large. It also affects the rock deposits near here, enhancing their physical and inate magical properties."
"Makes sense," Eziban said, taking a closer look. Damn, but he wished he still had his magic right about now. "It doesn't affect the carving process?"
"The stones are extra sensitive due to this, so chiselers especially have to be careful," Tayn admitted. He paused as if in indecision, then added, "If you have time, there's something you might want to see."
"Lead the way." The elf nodded and walked to a relatively large building crafted of that same thick grayish granite, with windows of clear quartz crystals. Odd yet ornate carvings decorated the stone over the door and walls, faintly sparking with magical power.
The inside was filled with clusters of elves in long robes, many carrying scrolls and books around. Plaques and cases of magical oddities lined the walls between doors, and the magical power swimming in the air was thick enough to warrant a sneeze.
"Our school of magic. We carry out experiments in weaving elemental magic with that of Merna's gifts, including various stones that contain their own inate power. We have been able to recreate many magical artifacts of old, and we have invented a great many as well," Tayn explained. He went to an enormous wooden chest and opened it with a magical gesture.
Eziban gasped as he gazed at the treasure trove inside. His gaze could only rest on one flawless gem momentarily before it was yanked to another. Never in his life had he seen a collection of stones so perfectly formed, and each almost hummed with power. The sheer variety was enormous, from common stones and iron ore to the ultra-rare violet diamond and dawnstone. His fingers itched to take out and work with just one of these beauties, maybe that fire opal in the corner.
Suddenly, he felt something a little different, a sense of something...purer. Frowning, he looked at the underside of the chest lid, then reached a finger to it. The bottom of the lid dropped down, becoming a hidden display case of a circle of various quartzes.
His companion yelped in shock. "How did you-" Tayn began. Eziban leaned closer, ignoring him. Finely faceted clear crystal quartz, shimmering blue, deep amethyst, blushing rose... every member of the quartz family was here. He had studied and handled all of these gems before, but these...they were almost glowing, and were absolutely perfect in structure.
"I'm guessing that these were affected more than the others?" Eziban asked, not waiting for a confirmation. "That's probably why I could sense them."
Tayn hesitated, but seemed to realize it was too late to keep mum about them by now. "That's right. Because of their shape and properties, they are extremely powerful for magical protection and neutralization and have helped keep us safe from time out of mind. These are known as the Sacred Stars."
"What are stones like these capable of?" Eziban almost whispered in awe.
"In the right hands, who knows?" Tayn asked with a shrug, shutting the case. He then turned to face the Guardian, his expression suddenly stern. "What you have found, only the members of Liam's family and mages know exist. Take it as a great sign of trust that you were shown this case, human, but do not abuse that trust." His voice lowered. "We have been betrayed by Guardians once before, and our memories are long."
"I don't believe in betraying folk who save your skin," Eziban replied seriously, looking the elf straight in the eyes.
Tayn nodded, although a hint of a shadow remained in his eyes yet. "There is more to see," was his guarded response. Eziban glanced back once more at the case before following the elf to continue his tour, thrusting his hands in his pockets. A frown creased his brow as he thought over that last statement.
'Betrayed by Guardians once before'? What on Merna does he mean by that, exactly?
Liam stood by one of his windows after Eziban had left, his eyes troubled as he gazed over his people. He was more than happy to play host to Raoul and Eziban, but couldn't help but wonder what kind of repercussions it could bring to his people from Bachlan. Mercy had never been among the man's redeeming qualities.
Ethan came in, rapping on the door only after he had entered from habit. "Grandfather, the scouts and mages you ordered are in place."
"Thank you, my boy," Liam replied distantly, not turning around.
Ethan ignored the hint to leave him with his thoughts. "How long are you going to keep up this farce?" he demanded, irritation and respect battling in his tone. "Raoul and Malika need to know what's going on. Not only for themselves, but also for their responsibilities."
Liam winced as he finally turned around. Ethan had stopped supporting Malika's push to reconnect with the rest of Merna since his Rite of Truth, but now he sounded like his old self. "Give them more time. It has been months since they last saw each other-"
"Elves or no, we don't have the luxury of time!" Ethan snapped, coming into the center of the room. Clearly, his irritation had won. "The time is now. Have you forgotten your own Rite of Truth, Grandfather? Because I remember mine from last year all too well."
Liam sighed in defeat. Ethan adored his little sister, and this had to be killing him. But Liam also knew that there was more at stake here than a romance, even one involving the granddaughter he cherished so much. His eyes were heavy with sadness as he finally replied, "You are correct. Maybe in trying to be a grandfather, I have forgotten that I am also a leader of our people." He glanced once more out the window, and added, "Please inform Nienna and the other ritual preparers that I require two sets of the special clothing and other arrangements ready for the next night of Girith's fullness."
Ethan nodded and started for the door, then paused in confusion as the rest of his grandfather's request sank in. "Two?"
"Yes, two," Liam answered steadily, his jaw taking on a determined set. It was good to have made a decision at last. "Raoul and Malika have given their hearts to one another. Therefore, they will undergo their rite together."