Storms of Rebirth Chapter Fifteen- Eziban and Raoul

[Solana]

Chapter Fifteen- The Rite Of Truth

Half of writing history is hiding the truth.
Captain Malcolm Reynolds, Serenity


Eziban was wandering aimlessly through Deynain, deep in thought and unnoticingly kicking a pebble ahead of his path. It wasn't like he'd be any help in setting up with the preparations for this 'rite' thing that Raoul would be going through, nor calming down the nervous Malika. The best thing he could do was just keep out of everybody's way.

Besides, now that Oriana had bought them some time and they had to wait around here a bit longer anyway, his mind could tackle a few big questions in peace and quiet. The biggie was how Bachlan had drained and stolen their essences like they were magical batteries so readily. While any Guardian could drop the barriers around their powers and let others borrow from it, that was only by their own will. What kind of spell had he used to get around those protections so easily?

The next was how Oriana had managed to break off a piece of her life essence and stash it someplace else. In everything he knew from his own work or the others studying their powers, he had heard nothing like this before. Sure, Oriana was the oldest Guardian after Bachlan, but if even he had been surprised, then she had learned of it from an outside source. But, from where? Or more accurately, from whom? And when the bloody hell had she had time to do it?

Eziban grumbled a little, preferring answers to questions, then looked up and realized he had drifted back to the magic school that Tayn had brought him to his first day here. Maybe he might get some ideas poking around in here instead of endlessly turning things over and over in his mind like a water wheel. The door was wide open to catch a fresh breeze, so he let himself in and took a bit more time to look around.

As before, there were elves busily running around and calling out requests for assistance or certain items, but many at least gave the Earth Guardian a smile or greeting. Eziban nodded back, trying to stay out of everyone's way. He didn't want to interrupt anything important.

Instead, he found himself examining some of the magical artifacts on display. Tayn had mentioned some of the ideas the elves had cooked up on their tour, and now Eziban realized that quite a few of these beauties bore the elf's name. There were some fascinating uses of various stones and carefully carved woods and special pottery blended together so that their innate magics caused various effects. Some of the pottery boasted magical signs painted in special inks that further enhanced their effects.

Eziban let out a whistle at the last. Raoul had never mentioned how far elves had pushed or even demolished the limits of earth magic! Eziban wished he had the luxury to spend some time here and pick the brains of the best of the best, or maybe even collaborate on a few projects. Too bad he'd always been too busy to tag along with Raoul on one of his many trips here.

Eziban next stopped in front of a display containing a device used to purify water. The beautifully etched cylinder was of the purest silver, a well known magical cleanser. A layer of sandstone laid at the bottom of the device had been enchanted to help remove further traces of magical effects. Like everything else he had seen here, it was a work of art.

He was wondering if the same technique could be applied to special plates to nullify poisons in food when he heard bickering from a nearby room. Tayn's voice was one of them. Puzzled, he crept a little closer as the words became audible from disgruntled mumbling.

"Did you try the feldspar?"

"Yes, I tried the friggin' feldspar, and it didn't friggin' work!"

"I think rose quartz might do it."

"No, it's not strong enough. What about granite?"

"But it doesn't conduct worth a damn..."

Eziban stuck his head in the room, seeing a bunch of elves arguing in what looked like a cross between a primitive laboratory and a museum room dedicated to rocks and plants. Cabinets with glass doors displayed a rainbow of stones and amber and bark samples, while branches and leaves and various tools covered a few worktables. Bark-bound books opened to various pages dotted the work area, and some of the elves were flipping through these and waving their arms dramatically as they tried to make their points. Tayn was rubbing his temples as if to ward off a headache, then brightened as he spotted the Earth Guardian and waved him inside. "Eziban, got a moment?"

"Sure, I've just been poking around. What's up?" Eziban asked, joining the group of elves. They were clustered around a table on which sat a very odd object. It appeared to be a large ring of steel the size of a dinner plate embedded with various stones. A subtle hum of magical power seemed to surround it.

"This is a special heating core, that can pass on magical effects done to it to its target. In this case, it's going to be used to heat the hospital in the Vyski colony far to the north. The steel barrier is in the precise shape of the hospital, and surrounds a core of iron taken from that very cave," Tayn explained.

That made sense. Vyski was located in glacier country, a land of eternal snow and ice next to the frigid and merciless northern waters of the Tethys. Its people lived in a naturally-occurring system of caves and tunnels protected under the ice that was kept heated by hot springs and magma rivers, and they were some of Merna's finest sailors and hunters. Checking on the tunnels and keeping them solid had been part of his duties for millennia, but he was more than happy to do it for Oriana's home territory. The vital rooms like hospitals and nurseries used various means and safeguards in addition to the gifts of magma and springs to ensure enough heat, one of which was various magical devices like these.

Eziban made a 'May I?' gesture towards the core as Tayn nodded. He picked it up to examine it closely, impressed as he turned the steel slowly over and over in his fingers and looked at every stone and joining. Stones and metals were some of the best materials for this type of magic, since their endurance meant that they held onto their embedded elemental power far more easily than wispy things like clouds or waves. Flashes of color glittered on some milky gems clustered on one side of the ring, and he tapped them gently. "These fire opals are to draw fire magic from the lava rivers under the glaciers, right?"

"That's correct. The basalt carries it throughout the entire model," Tayn began, pointing out the stone layer in question. "The hematite here ensures that the power does not interfere with that of the healers, and these tiny rubies help to anchor everything." Pride was replaced by frustration in his voice. "But, it's still not heating in the middle, so it won't heat the hospital."

"Huh." Eziban fingered the stones, feeling the their magical strength this time. They were certainly powerful enough, so that wasn't the problem. The rubies were still large enough and spaced properly to ensure a smooth magical flow, and the opals were cut into the best shape to draw power. "And here I thought that you guys tried to keep to yourselves," he commented, half to himself.

"Our creations are an exception. Liam believes that our magic and skills should be shared, just not us," one of the elves remarked dryly. Another elbowed her side as a signal to shut up.

Eziban ignored it, thinking hard on what was missing until a triumphant grin lit up his face. "Obsidian! You need a slice of obsidian to focus the power that you're drawing into the core. It's been escaping instead of going where you want it."

"Brilliant!" Tayn exclaimed. The other elves began chattering in excitement, and one went to his book to look it up.

Eziban reached in a pocket and withdrew a small disk of the shiny volcanic glass to hand to Tayn. "You're going to want to go with Caldera obsidian if you can get it. It's the best in the world, both for carving and its magical properties. I could probably even get you a special deal when..." Eziban's face fell as he remembered that this was no pleasure trip.. "...when we can," he finished lamely.

Tayn raised his eyebrows in amazement as he passed off the obsidian to one of the others. She squinted at it, holding it up to the light. "What on Merna is that inside of it? That little glowing symbol, could it be...?" she asked curiously.

"Yep, that's just my magical signature. Aryn got me this baby to help focus my fire spells. But if you don't magically cleanse a stone for a while, it can... hold onto... it..."

Eziban suddenly stopped and his face drained as realization hit him like a catapulted boulder. Anger and self-disgust rose up like twin geysers. "That's how he did it! That's how he stole our power! Why the hell did I never think of cleansing the Citadel's work-crystals... I could have prevented all of this..."

All of them using their work-crystals to send out their power for millennia had probably left their signatures intact in the crystal itself. Bachlan had obviously figured out how to use his memory magic to imprint those signatures into a spell to make it seem to their essences that Bachlan was their wielder instead of whoever actually possessed them. Since all eight essences had come from their world and were complementary to each other, adding the signatures to one would make it possible.

You idiot! If you hadn't been so busy congratulating yourself on finding his little playroom, you could've been thinking more on what he was doing in there like Oriana did! Or at least put Raoul to work while you ran off to Spira! Eziban felt like knocking his head against the worktable, but settled for cursing himself out with a few choice phrases he'd learned from Aryn.

Most of the elves were shocked, though a few looked impressed. "Can humans even physically do that?" one asked another.

"I don't think he cares at this point," was the response.

Tayn soon had enough and actually clamped his hand over Eziban's mouth to cut off the colorful rant. "Why not put that creativity to work on your next move, instead of biologically impossible actions?" he suggested wryly.

Eziban looked up at him in surprise, then stared at the model that the elves had been working on as his mental cogs started to whirl into high gear. Tayn finally deemed it safe to move his hand, as Eziban scratched his chin in contemplation. Oriana had bought them time by somehow hiding a piece of her essence, and Bachlan presumably hadn't found it yet since he hadn't tried engaging a Great Rebirth.

Prevention... that was the key here...

"We don't want Bachlan getting all of Oriana's essence, but we don't know where it is. So we mess with how he stole the rest of ours. If we could somehow stop him from being able to access the signatures again, he couldn't get it no matter what Oriana did to it!" Eziban announced triumphantly.

"Could you remove the signatures yourself?" Tayn asked curiously.

Eziban's face fell. "Not without my power and a few weeks. So maybe we need something that could counteract the signatures coming out of the crystal. I don't think I have anything powerful enough on me to neutralize all eight of our crystals together, though." With a scowl, he realized that he was right back at square one and resisted the urge to kick the work table. "So how did Bachlan figure all this out without us knowing all this time?!"

"Bachlan has had much practice in hiding his true nature," Tayn replied carelessly. After the words tumbled out, he froze and went milk white as the other elves gasped.

Eziban pounced on the hint like a hungry cat going for a mouse. "What? What else did he do?" Silence reigned as Tayn looked away, as if searching for a stone that could turn time back. Eziban refused to let it go this time and grabbed the elf's arm in earnest. "Dammit, you said Guardians betrayed you once before! What happened?!"

Tayn looked desperately at the other elves to bail him out of this, but no one uttered a sound. Some looked nervous, some looked numb, while others wore a faint expression of what was unmistakably relief. Finally, he gave a reluctant sigh and tugged his arm free. "I don't see that we have anything left to lose," he admitted, the words coming out as slowly as if each was tied to a weight. "I suppose the only two who do at this point are Raoul and Malika." The elf smiled sadly at Eziban, who looked as confused as ever. "Eziban, you will be the first full-blooded non-related human to attend a Deynain Rite. I will instruct you and also speak to Liam about you participating in the last portion. There, you will find out why Deynain has been fortress and prison to us, and the final piece of Bachlan's Rise of the Classes."

Eziban nodded solemnly but was puzzled at this last part, knowing the story of the Rise of the Classes by heart. All the Guardians and citizens of Merna did.

Still, it was Bachlan's version. Had he taken a bit of creative license with it, or had he left out something important?


Malika was trembling slightly inside the small hut that was the designated waiting area for those awaiting a rite. The undyed shift she wore played up the gold dusting of her skin, and her frightened blue eyes shone like blue topazes in what little moonlight streamed in through the window. Her jade hair was unkempt from running nervous fingers through it.

Raoul was waiting with her, dressed in an undyed shirt and pants. He said nothing, but took her small hand in his and gently massaged her palm with gentle fingertips until she started to relax a bit. He, too, was uncertain of exactly what they would face side by side. Raoul could only assume that his elven parent or parents had brought him through the Rite of Love, but of course had no memory of that particular event. But as Malika slowly relaxed from the comfort of his nearness, so too did he draw strength from her. They were in this together.

Ethan knocked and slowly opened the door. As the family member to Malika who had gone through this rite the most recently, it was his job to bring her to her own. His shadowed eyes traveled first to Raoul before resting on the little sister that was so dear to him. Love shone in his eyes, threaded with pain and a hint of pity. "Come," was all he said, and the pair followed him outside.

The sun had just set, although the sky to the west still retained a coat of darkest amethyst and was clouding up fast. The light coming through from the sister moons Girith and Chizu was watery at best. Malika's friends and family and those who had taught her and Raoul lined a path that led to the small lake that was their special place. All bore glowing torches that illuminated their serious faces and threw strange shadows around them. Eziban stood towards the end of one of the lines, looking a little confused and lost but giving Raoul an encouraging nod as they passed. Only a few chirps and calls from a pair of nightingales broke the solemn silence of what seemed a dream world.

Ethan led Malika and Raoul to the shores of the lake, where Liam waited for them. His eyes were filled with a strange mingling of pride and sorrow, and Malika found herself gripping Raoul's hand a little tighter. Raoul met the elven leader's eyes with a calm expectation before looking down. Ethan then handed Liam two beautifully lacquered cases- one new, one old- before going to stand next to Tayn in the lines of those witnessing the event.

Liam stared down the friends and family gathered here, then at the pair of celebrants ahead of him and cleared his throat. "Friends, family, all of us who draw life and spirit from that of our beloved Merna, bear witness to and bless this night."

"We bear witness," the elves replied in unison, Eziban a step behind.

"In days past, Merna itself was overrun by chaos and forces only bent to destruction and fit only for the sea serpents that are the children of the primordial waters. Yet, it changed this all for our own benefit, to live along and with and even through us. We came here first, and we remember the duty that was given to our blood for all time. Let us, too, be reborn into a new form and new understanding with these two here, as we remember our own rites," Liam continued, his voice shaking on the word 'reborn'.

Raoul and Eziban exchanged shocked looks as the other elves chanted, "Let us remember." The elves had always known the legend of the Great Birth, that had nearly been forgotten by humankind. Why was this? And what was this 'duty' that Liam spoke of?

For the first time in a long time, Raoul felt like a stranger among his people.

Liam opened up the two cases that Ethan had given him. One had already belonged to Malika, while the new one had been made for Raoul. Nestled inside each case were two glassy spheres that looked like giant marbles. Liam took one from each case and displayed them to the people before offering them to the pair. "Daughter of my daughter, son of our people, you have already undergone the Rite of Love. Love is the first key to understanding, enabling all other virtues in our lives. Do you swear to continue to follow the path of Love?"

Malika and Raoul smiled at each other, but their voices were solemn as they answered, "We do."

"If your hearts be true, then let the fire within be known to those who would see it," Liam commanded.

Raoul and Malika each took a small sphere into their hands. A sudden burst of flame appeared in each one, glowing crimson and orange in the darkness and illuminating their pale faces. Triumphant, they showed the globes to the crowd, who murmured in approval, then returned them to their cases.

Liam then took out the other spheres and held them high. "Your oaths have been renewed in the sight of our people. Malika, you have undergone the Rite of Imagination. Raoul, you have learned the path alongside of our people and have proven yourself in that manner. Imagination arises from love, for what can be created without our hearts in it? Do you swear to continue to follow the path of Imagination?"

"We do," the pair answered together. Their hearts were beating faster, beating as one.

"If your minds be open, then let the creative lightning within be known to those who would see it," Liam commanded.

Malika confidently grasped her sphere, and lightning blazed within at her touch. Raoul hesitated for only a moment before doing the same. To his immense relief, tiny yellow and gold bolts appeared for him as well, and he felt a dull ache for the power that had been his and was now lost. Once again, the crowd gave their approval, and the spheres were returned to the cases.

Ethan stepped up and handed Liam a new sphere for Malika. Eziban did the same for Raoul, and gave him an encouraging smile before the two returned to their lines. Liam held up the new spheres, his voice suddenly more solemn than it had been for the previous lines. The crowd hushed immediately, and countless intent pairs of eyes glowed like fireflies in the milky twilight.

"Tonight, you are offered the chance to begin a journey towards truth. Truth comes from imagination, both from creating what will be the truth of our lives or seeking the truth of paths already followed. The light of truth can be a single star in the night sky, powerful enough to stand alone and guide others even in the darkness." The elf's voice turned firm, seeing the rapture in both sets of eyes. "But what is truth? Is it an absolute entity? Does it lie in the eye of the beholder? Can it be given one definition? Let us think about it. One could say that the sky is clouding up and is likely to give us a storm. This is true by the evidence of our eyes. Who can refute it?"

Raoul was beginning to feel uneasy. Liam's words were reaching into his mind and heart, just the way Malika's always had. But these were calling up thoughts that he was having trouble facing, about how often he had tried to stay away from and deny things that had threatened to shatter his pacifist shell.

"But what about those intangible truths, that are so much more important?" Liam continued, apparently unaware of Raoul's discomfort. "There are the truths of our beliefs, and even moreso, the truth as it is lived out by our entire lives. I tell you this now, even after my many centuries I have still not discovered the answer. Yet, I would hope that my life might serve to aid those in their own journey towards their own truths."

"It has!" someone yelled, and the crowd laughed in half amusement, half embarrassment. Liam chuckled a little and blushed, and the tension of the rite seemed to have gone down a level. Raoul even dared to reach out and take Malika's hand in his own. She gently laid her other hand on top of his in a gentle caress.

Liam noted the action and went serious again, as the crowd followed. He offered the new spheres to his granddaughter and this son of his people. "If you would begin this journey, if you have the courage to face your realities and to strip away beauteous illusions to the sometimes ugly facts behind them, then take this now and declare your intentions to those around you and to Merna's very heart."

Malika and Raoul shared a single glance that said everything that they needed to. As one, they clenched their joined hands together and reached out with their free hands to take the spheres.

Nothing happened.

Raoul felt a cold twinge of panic rising up his spine as he wondered what he had done wrong for this one. Or was the sphere itself somehow flawed?

What are you afraid of?

It was his voice, and not his voice. He whipped his head around, but neither Malika nor Liam had spoken to him. Indeed, Malika seemed to be listening to something as well, with her head bowed and her eyes half-closed. He looked down at the ground and concentrated in his mind.

The point of life is not to hide behind pretty words, Raoul. Those words are to be used to reveal that which both human and elf would keep hidden. Now is the time for such revelations.

'But we already know about Bachlan!' Raoul protested inwardly.

A wisp of a sigh breezed through his head. No, you have only scratched the very surface of that man. Fifty years ago, you knew that he was a war hero once and that he preferred to be obeyed without question. Forty years ago, you knew that he believed you all to be his property when two of you left. Almost ten years ago, you knew that he was capable of destroying those who had served him. Only days ago, you knew that he was willing to destroy all of the lives of an entire world for what he sees as his "truth". If you dare, this very evening you will learn even more.

Raoul felt shaky all of a sudden, knowing that whatever was coming at the end of this rite was going to change him forever. Once he had crossed that rubicon, there could never be a thought of being on the sidelines again.

Plus, now there was Malika to think of. 'What if I can't?'

Then a part of yourself will always be closed off. You may gain a victory for Merna without it, but you will never become the one that you were meant to be. If you will forever choose the blanket of illusions over the harsh winds of truth, then neither will you know its golden rays. And that will apply to your bond with Malika as well.

Later on, Raoul was never quite certain who had spoken to him- whether it was a part of himself he never knew existed, or a future self somehow sending this message back to him, or whether it was Merna's own voice in his heart. Regardless, he felt that he could trust it.

He was tired of forever standing in the middle, afraid to take a step here or a step there. He had made his choice for the upcoming battle back in the Citadel.

He would make his choice for the rest of his life right now.

Raoul held his sphere up and stared at it, willing it to show his decision. Bits of light began appearing in its depths, until it blazed out in a glory that made it seem that he was holding a tiny sun in his hand. Only moments later, Malika's also came alive, and they displayed them proudly to the crowd.

This time, Liam led the applause and cheers that sang out at the sight of the new spheres. Malika smiled up at Raoul with tears of joy in her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck unashamedly. Raoul embraced her back, his heart singing at having kept this promise to her and having gone through this with his people.

Plip! Plop! Raoul looked up at the overcast sky, as more and more drops came down. The torches held by the people started hissing or going out, and the lines of solemn elves broke up as they fumbled for cloaks or started back towards their village.

"We will meet in the Great Hall for the celebratory dinner and declarations ceremony!" Liam announced, holding one arm over his head to shed the rain coming down. Lightning danced in the heavens, and rolls of thunder responded. Laughing or shrieking, the crowd ran speedily under the leafy roof that would dispel most of the rain. Eziban and Tayn came to give Raoul slaps on the back and Ethan hugged his sister before following.


Thunder grumbled outside of the large wooden Great Hall, as if vexed to be left out of the remainder of the rite. Someone had been sent ahead to light a pair of blazing fires in enormous hearths located at either end of the large hall, which added a cozy warmth and comforting scent of clean burning wood to the air. Long tables had been set out with chairs and were presently being filled with steaming pots and bowls of Deynain specialties by an army of apron-wearing elves. There were even bowls of fresh flowers and herbs set out amongst the feast.

Everyone except the celebrants and Liam, who went to stand a dais at the end of the biggest table, had been allowed to take their seats. Eziban was eying a chocolate-frosted cake sitting nearby and started casually moving a single fingertip towards a puddle of frosting on the plate that would never be missed. A sharp-eyed elf woman reached out and smacked his hand with a ladle. Eziban quickly withdrew his hand and placed both in his lap, looking up at the elf woman with eyes that were pools of injured innocence. She snorted and handed him an extra pastry from the basket that she was carrying before moving on.

Liam picked up a golden bell from the table and gave it a good shake. Everyone quieted at the sound of the rich tones. "Friends, family, you have seen these two prove their intentions in their hearts and to our world already. Now let us bear witness as they proclaim the truths of their own lives, in their own ways. Granddaughter, you may go first," Liam announced, then took a seat at the head of the nearest table.

Malika pulled a chair and music stand onto the dais and sat down. Ever so carefully, Raoul handed her the red-toned maple cello and oak bow that were among her most prized possessions. Malika bent over and lovingly tuned her instrument, adjusting a peg here and there and running her bow over the strings until she was satisfied with the result. Finally, she cleared her throat and glanced at the crowd with eyes that were luminous from the rite and the gift she was to present to the man she loved.

"I, um, I wrote this song for Raoul, and for us. I hope that everyone can feel what we feel," she explained. Soft applause greeted her pronouncement, and the elf maiden gently touched her bow to the strings.

Malika started with a light and sweet melody, her bow only flirting with the strings. It brought to mind images of early springtime, with two souls meeting and getting to know each other. Flourishes of lower notes suggested buds bursting into flowers, as friendship began to have a deeper meaning to it. Very soon, everyone in the room was entranced by her music.

Malika then moved into a reel, a lively dance tune. These two souls were now coming closer, going beyond what had been a simple mystery to instead know the more profound mystery of each other. Two life paths were winding around each other, interacting more and more and soon dancing together. It was a dance of joy, of fulfillment, of growth. Having found their other half, each was able to start transforming into the person that they were meant to be. Malika's bow shifted to play on two strings at the same time, giving a harmonious blending to the melody.

The tune then grew heavier, more forced, and filled with hesitation between deep harsh notes. The two were having doubts and obstacles thrown in their way. He was a Guardian, and had taken vows thousands of years before his beloved had been born. She was a full-blooded elf, and under custom was meant to stay in the forests when her soul yearned to fly. Circumstances kept driving them apart. Malika played entire phrases on either higher or lower notes, not allowing the two to meet or providing any middle ground.

Then, a pause. Malika lowered her head, tears on her cheeks, as her bow fell away from the strings. A hush came over the assembled as they sat on the edge of their seats, waiting. What would be the outcome?

Raoul found himself holding his breath. They had come through the Rite of Truth together, as he had promised, but did Malika still have doubts?

Her bow came up and brushed the strings. Stopped. She then played an achingly sweet tune, so filled with yearning that it brought tears to many of the elves. Then she played the same tune on a lower string, with the same intent. Finally, she played it again on both strings, the high and the low coming together once again as a murmur of approval rose from the crowd.

Finally, Malika broke into the finale. Clear, sweet, and triumphant, her bow moved seamlessly into another reel that was far richer than the previous one. Coming through doubts and adversity made a pair the stronger for having weathered them together. There were still darker flourishes, hinting at future difficulties, but it somehow made the overall tune all the sweeter for it. It was like the cidermakers using a few rotten apples to make the very finest cider.

Malika's face rose, her eyes confidently meeting Raoul's as her song finally ended. It had been for him, an offering of herself and her hopes and dreams. Raoul felt his heart full to bursting as the entire Great Hall burst into applause. Malika rose and bowed, then walked off the dais to put away her cello for the feast.

Liam was smiling and unashamedly wiping away tears. "Well done, my beloved granddaughter. I believe you have touched us all tonight with the truth of your heart," he said happily. Malika only smiled in reply, as her music had proclaimed everything already. Liam then turned to the equally shy Raoul, gesturing for him to stand on the dais. "Son of our people, it is now your turn. Come on, lad."

Raoul swallowed hard. Since the announcement of this rite and his promised participation, he had spent days going through the elves' records for a written work to recite that reflected his thoughts. So many only expressed a portion of his love for Malika. Late last night, he had finally discovered a short story entitled 'The Stone of the Heavens' that felt right.

While its sentiments nearly mirrored his own, he still longed for the day when he could say in his own words what rested in his heart just for her. The words had refused to come the nights he had taken up pen and parchment, so he had been forced to rely on the thoughts of another. He wiped his hands on his pants, then reached in a pocket for the copy of the story that he had so carefully transcribed and gently unfolded it. He didn't like being put on display in front of so many people, but he had promised Malika that he would be by her side for this entire rite.

Raoul cleared his throat, cleared his mind, and began to read aloud in a husky voice that nevertheless carried throughout the hall.

In the southern Boreas sea is an island with a mountain that touches the sky. This mountain is crowned with a great tree that stretches into the heavens and has a great precious stone sitting at its roots. No one knows from where they had come, nor why.

During a terrible storm, a great bolt of lightning struck the mountain and its tree. The tree was split down the middle with a crack that seemed to shake the world. The stone was split into two, and each half rolled down a separate side of the mountain to the opposite shores of the island.

On each of these shores lived a community, with each unknown to the other. Those in the north carried great skill in their hands and made marvelous works, while the dwellers of the south had numerous resources and spent their days in meditation. Each was given the half of the island's treasure.

Those in the north saw that the heavenly stone was beautiful to behold and decided to incorporate it in their works. Small bits were chipped off from the stone to incorporate into jewelry, fine buildings, and other things that were pleasing to the eye. Some of these works were carried across the sea, that others might know of this lovely treasure.

Those in the south saw that the heavenly stone had something otherworldly among its energies, and sought to take those in for their own. The stone was placed on a great altar, that all who saw it might praise those from whom the stone had come. The stone was polished daily, and small chunks were sold to pilgrims at great cost. Their neighbors came to know of the powers of the stone, and gave thanks that its miracles could be purchased.

But despite their new riches and fame, all was not well. The makers of jewelry from the stone were set upon by those with greed in their hearts and stripped of all their worldly goods and lives. The worshippers of the stone had a great landslide that buried homes underneath rubble. Both questioned whether 'their' stone had bequeathed them a blessing or a curse.

It came to be that a great seer had come to the island to learn of the miracles of the stones. He visited the north and the south, and beheld both halves of the stone. "The mountain is angry that its treasure has been broken and used for material gain. Now it wishes for the return of both halves of the stone."

Those who heard the seer heeded his words. A youth from the north and maiden from the south were each sent with the treasure stones to be returned to the summit of their mighty mountain. Each climbed for a fortnight, and arrived at the same day at the top of the world. They were each amazed and intrigued to see the other. Together, they brought their halves of the stone to the roots of the tree, and tried to put them back together.

Despite the many polishings of the stones, and despite the pieces broken off over time, the stone was miraculously refit together. What had shaped one half had been done to the other in opposite, so that their differences came together to make a unified whole.

So it was with the youth and the maiden. Those in the north offered their services in rebuilding to the south. Those in the south offered counsel of heart for those who had lost their loved ones. The two communities became one.

The youth and the maiden were wed on the mountain's summit. After the last declarations, a strange cracking noise was heard. The tree, the great tree that had been split asunder by lightning was miraculously made as whole as the restored stone. Green leaves and pink flowers grew from its branches to bless the new couple and their lives forever and ever.

The seer, who had officiated the wedding, spoke these words, "As with the stone, so it is with destiny. Those who share its halves will come together in time and be restored to wholeness, regardless of what time and the hands of others have wrought."


The applause that followed Raoul's story nearly brought down the Great Hall. He gave a small bow to his audience, his heart humming with success at the reading and the responding sparkle in Malika's eyes. His tale had been taken into her heart, and she came to him and wrapped her arms around him for a hug. Cheers and whistles sounded from the other elves, as well as some whooping from Eziban and Tayn. Ethan gave a slight nod of approval, and Liam grinned openly.

Finally, the three took their seats at the table. After a murmured blessing from Liam, the Rite feast officially began.

Eziban saw now why preparations for the entire ceremony had taken days. There were countless varieties of salad tossed from local greens and flavored with berries and herbs, a few fish dishes and sliced venison sausage, and jar after jar of sweet fruit preserves to spread on nutty-tasting breads. Best of all were the seasoned acorn-flour tarts stuffed with hare and vegetables. Elves enjoyed a hearty fare from the forest, and used herbs more for flavor than spiciness. He made sure to take a few notes to bring back to Aryn.

As tasty as the fare was, the drinks were the real star attraction in his mind. There were countless types of mead, cordials, and light wines that he wasn't familiar with, many flavored with herbal or floral tones. Tayn answered a few of his questions until he laughingly introduced Eziban to Deynain's brewmistress.

The two were soon gabbing and exchanging thoughts on techniques and ingredients, and the brewmistress laid out sample shot after sample shot of her various liquors to try. Eziban was all too pleased to do so, making sure to eat heartily in between. He considered getting plastered or worse, getting sick, to be an insult both to a fine brew and its maker.

Raoul and Malika were accepting congratulations from the elves sitting nearby as they dug into their own food. Eziban noticed that Raoul seemed a lot more at ease than usual, talking and laughing with the other elves while Malika smiled and blushed from the teasing remarks from relatives. There was no doubt that this was where the Thunder Guardian truly belonged, and that these were his people.

Eziban wondered suddenly what life could be like for them both after the Great Rebirth attempt was stopped. Their current duties would have to stop, of course, but what more could life hold outside of being imprisoned up in the sky? What could he decide to do with his remaining time?

"All seems to be going well, doesn't it?" Raoul asked Malika softly, taking her hand and giving it a loving squeeze. She nodded briskly.

"It's not over yet," Eziban reminded him. He carefully selected a tiny glass of apple mead to try next, sniffing the maple blended in it appreciatively. "Tayn says we have one more thing to find out about our fearless leader before the night is over."

Raoul gave him a dirty look, tilting his head towards Malika, but Eziban downed the shot and pointedly ignored him. He was tired of pussyfooting around and figured that keeping unnecessary secrets had been a pretty sizable cause of their present problems.

After more courses and conversation, Liam suddenly rose from his chair. Malika turned pale, but her grandfather didn't acknowledge it. "Malika, Raoul... and Eziban. All of you are to come with me for the last part of the rite," he said quietly.

One or two protests came at including Eziban in an elven rite, but they were quickly shot down. The three also stood, Eziban quickly swallowing the last mouthful of cake. He glanced back at Tayn and Ethan, seeing worry and acceptance in their eyes.

Raoul put an arm around Malika's shoulders and hugged her close as they followed Liam through a doorway that connected the Great Hall to his own residence. She snuggled against him, her heart pounding and grateful for the contact.

Neither of them had any idea that their roles would soon be reversed.


Once out of the Hall, Guardians and elfmaiden followed Liam to an enormous antique chest sitting in his gathering room. Liam reached for a key on a chain around his neck and unlocked the chest, which was filled with papers and stones and various items of all kinds. After fishing around for a few moments, he found a small box and opened it to reveal a clouded milky blob of crystal that looked ancient. It hummed and sparked with odd gray fire, the color of memory.

"What is that?" Eziban asked curiously, his fingers unconsciously reaching for it.

"A memory globe, called a mem-gem for short. A tool used by mages to imprint an event from their own memories into here, to be shown later. We will be able to see, hear, and even know their thoughts," Liam explained, turning the crystal over in his fingers.

"What memory resides in this?" Raoul asked softly.

Liam didn't choose to answer this right away. He took a moment to find the words for his thoughts. "What do you know of the Rise of the Classes?" he asked instead.

Eziban and Raoul traded wary glances. "That was about twenty-five thousand years ago, when all of Merna was ruled by a caste called the Golden ones," Eziban answered first. "Bachlan was born of that caste, but didn't like how they were butchering our world and selling off valuable resources. He gathered together the lower classes to make an army and beat them down. Our Crystal Citadel used to be their palace."

"After the last battle at the Citadel itself, the new world leaders met and agreed to give Bachlan the memory essence and make him the first Guardian," Raoul added.

Liam nodded. "All of that is accurate," he admitted reluctantly, "But there is something you do not know. We elves, who were the first to come to this new world, were charged with keeping the essences safe until Merna chose her own Guardians. That is why they were not used in the Rise of the Classes. We did not agree to hand them over at this point."

Eziban and Raoul were both taken aback. Merna choosing the Guardians?!

Raoul was finding it very difficult to swallow past the huge lump in his throat. Earlier, he maybe would have thought of walking away from this. But his rite had given him the inner strength to ask what they all needed to know. "Then how did Bachlan acquire them?"

"I will show you," Liam replied. Holding up the crystal, he murmured a strange word. Gray fire shot from the crystal to rest on the bare wall behind him, like a magical projection screen. Slowly, the fire was replaced by a clear image.

It showed the sprawled figure of a warrior elf, chestnut hair slung over one shoulder and a bleeding gash on his chin. He was in front of a charred and smoking grove of trees, and countless more fallen figures could be seen behind him. An thick arrow sprouted from his mail-covered chest, with vivid crimson rivlets of blood still streaming from it. He was coughing harshly, his skin already an unhealthy gray. It was obvious that he wouldn't be long for this world.

"Not much time...the attack on our temple...was successful. We...failed," the elf managed to croak out. "They're gone....all of them. So are....(cough, cough)...most of our soldiers. Please....stop him....(cough)" A gray flash erupted once more, and the scene shifted.

The scene of battle that followed would haunt all of the watchers until their deaths. Elves fought and died in droves, mercilessly cut down by a much larger army of very angry humans. Barriers rose and were blasted down, sparks of magical power of all of Merna's elements flared and died, and arrows whistled through the smoky air. Everywhere there was blood- blood of humans and elves alike, blood that stained everything and mixed with the glowing scarlet of flames that licked at some of the trees of their cathedral forest.

Twenty-five thousand years later or not, Raoul felt a sick feeling in his stomach as he recognized the scene. It was the clearing that was his and Malika's special place, located next to the small lake. He had had no idea it had once been a blood-soaked battleground.

But in this image, enough of the trees and land had been razed to create a space large enough to hold the two armies. A small stone temple sat at the shoreline of the lake, guarded by the chestnut-haired elf.

The elves appeared to be trying to stop the humans from getting into the temple. Unfortunately, their inferior numbers meant that they were easily cut off from their comrades by wedges of humans. Then the small groups of elves were swiftly dealt with before the humans moved on to a new group, often taking them by surprise from behind. Despite their bravery, there was a strong feeling of despair mixed with acceptance emanating from the elves of the old memory. They knew that they were to die, but what they were guarding was to safeguard hundreds or thousands of generations for the future.

A tall warrior in bronze armor near the back appeared to be directing the humans' efforts, moving coolly and professionally. There was no fear, no hesitation, only a cold certainty washed with arrogance. If anything, the warrior seemed to be treating this battle as simply a minor annoyance to an important goal.

"Keep your spirits up, my friends! Remember, it is for Merna that you are fighting!" yelled the chestnut-haired elf. Exhausted cheers greeted his pronouncement, and his fighters went on with renewed vigor as he watched with a hopeful gaze.

It didn't last. More and more clusters of defenders were led away by the humans, or changed into pitiful figures silently laid out beneath the burning trees. Agata, who had three children and was their best archer, was slumped over in her post in a tree, her bow lying on the ground beneath her. Maitu and Siomon, twin warriors who had been unbeatable when fighting together, had finally met their match and had each died defending his brother's back. Sweet Eimile had been struck down while protecting the lifeless body of her only son Felic, his sword in her hand. Finan, a saucy elfmaiden who had sworn to marry only a warrior who could match her skills, had taken her murderer to the afterlife with her, and still clutched the javelin that had ended her opponent's life in one hand. All of them were dear friends and comrades who would not live to see a world trying to get back up on her feet after her devastation by the Golden Ones, and each of their wounds was a blow to his own soul.

All too soon, the chestnut-haired elf was left alone at the very door of the temple they were to guard. He refused to give up and engaged any soldier who tried to rush him. One human after another was beaten back, only to have another come forward to try their luck. Silver flashed in a deadly dance as he single-handedly managed to hold them all off for a time, but he was taking many wounds in the process.

Iridescent fire, the sign of life magic, flared over him to help keep his strength up. But even the elf knew that it was a half-ditch effort at best, and every drop of his blood leaving his body to strike the already crimson-soaked ground took a bit of his strength with it. As his blood now joined that of his fallen comrades, his spirit would soon follow.

After defeating one more cluster of elves, the bronze-armored commander finally came up to challenge the brave defender single-handedly, leader to leader. The motions reeking of irritation were magnified as he pulled out a sickeningly familiar double-ended naginata.

Raoul couldn't tear his eyes away, as much as he wanted to. No....

"It's not nice to tell lies, Tesla," remarked the dry voice that had remained unchanged in twenty-five thousand years. The warrior removed his golden helmet and tossed it aside carelessly, revealing auburn hair and cold brown eyes that coolly assessed his opponent. "Our new world leaders agreed to make me Merna's Guardian of Memory after all I have done. Why must you elves be so stubborn?" Bachlan asked in disgust.

Tesla slowly raised his blade and targe and once more shifted into a defensive stance. Only a slight grimace betrayed the pain of the injuries he had already received this night. Even so, his eyes burned with an almost fanatic light as he stared down the man that was leading this slaughter of his people. "The essences belong to Merna, not to any mortal on this world. It will give them out to those it deems worthy, and by our swords they shall remain safe until it has done so!"

A hint of an arrogant sneer twisted Bachlan's smile. "We shall see if your sword is enough." He charged the elf, bringing his larger weapon down in an overhead slash. Tesla parried the blow on his targe as he sidestepped, then thrust at Bachlan's open chest. The man twisted aside like a dancer and swiftly riposted, guiding the weapon with his left arm to score a touch on Tesla's back. "You elves believe our world is sentient. Tell me, when the Golden ones were destroying it, where were you? Where was Merna then for us?"

Tesla leaped forward as soon as he felt steel on his back to lessen the blow, then used his momentum to lunge at Bachlan's unprotected side. "We did not have the means to fight them, but we healed and sheltered those who came to us." Bachlan twisted his weapon diagonally to deflect the blow on the staff, letting Tesla's sword slide down it, then shifted his grip to thrust at Tesla's midsection as the elf leaped back and continued, "The people are not thinking of the far future, but only their relief at losing the bonds of the past."

Tesla tried to hook his targe over one end of Bachlan's naginata to lock it and free his right arm for a blow. Bachlan twirled the naginata like a baton out of the way and fast enough to make it seem only a blur and forced the elf out of his zone. "You had the means, Tesla. If I had done things your way, our world would have been decimated beyond repair."

Bachlan channeled the momentum from the twirl into a powerful low sweeping attack, his features livid. "I assure you, such a thing shall never happen again!" Tesla leaped over the curved blade and brought his sword crashing down, then broke off with a cry of pain as an arrow hit his chest and he fell. The elves still standing cried out in despair.

Bachlan turned and smiled in approval at a nearby soldier who was lowering a powerful crossbow. "Nice work, Robus. I'm glad you remembered your orders."

The officer saluted proudly. "Anything for our hero, sir. Shall we pursue the group that evacuated this morning, or round these up as prisoners?"

"Neither. Take our people inside to scout the temple in case any surprises were planted by the elves. Those who are left are no threat to us anymore with their war leader down," Bachlan replied, replacing his weapon in the special sheath on his back. The officer nodded and went to carry out his orders, leading them into the forbidden temple with his chest puffed out importantly. Some despair-filled protests were sounded, but no move could be made to stop them.

Bachlan waited until his last soldier had entered, then knelt by Tesla's side. "You threw away a lot of your people's lives in this fruitless attempt at a rebellion, Tesla, but many of the Golden Ones were equally stubborn. Yet I shall be merciful and spare those who live. Once the memory essence is mine, this day and the elves' quest will be wiped from the history books. Your children, and their children, and their children's children's children shall serve my cause." Rising, the man followed his troops into the temple.

Tesla gazed around at his razed home, his defeated brothers and sisters. Smoke still rose in dirty plumes from fire-blackened trees, and more flickers of orange could be seen farther off in the forest. The pure lake that had carried the elemental essences to Merna's surface was now clouded by the blood of his people. The battle against the Golden Ones had been justice, but this... this was a needless slaughter for something that belonged to no man or woman uninvited.

"Never will they do such a thing! I will ensure that the truth of what you are is forever preserved, that others may know of it and bring you down," he muttered. He removed one leather gauntlet, and torchlight fell on a bit of bronze as he reached in a pocket to withdraw a lump of crystal.

"I love you, Irene...."


Gray fire flashed and vanished back into the mem-gem in the elf leader's hand. Tears streaked the faces of all who had witnessed it, and Liam stared down at the rock in his hand in reverence. "Bachlan very nearly succeeded in obliterating our mission from the memories and history books of Merna with his newfound powers, but Tesla made certain that the truth was never forgotten."

He sent a sorrowful gaze first at Raoul, then at Eziban. His voice held the despairing calm found only after a truly horrendous event had been acknowledged. "That is the man you have served for millennia."

Nausea swept Raoul like a tidal wave, and he found himself stepping back a few paces as if willing himself to not be a part of this wretched truth revealed before his eyes. His people had been the ones to guard the essences all this time? Maybe some of his own ancestors had had blood spilled in that horrific battle for the essences, including the thunder essence that for so long had been kept in his own body?

Eziban suddenly turned an angry glare at Liam, pointing at the mem-gem with a hand that shook in fury. "Why the hell didn't you show us this before?! ANY of you?"

Raoul glanced desperately at Malika, seeing tears trickling down her soft cheeks as well. He could see the depths of pity for him.

Liam immediately went on the defensive. "What would you have done....?"

Raoul thought of this place as home, between the culture and the people. Liam had his respect and admiration, Tayn and Ethan his friendship, and Malika his very soul.

"I'm not sure, but we had a right to know...!"

Raoul's fists clenched, and two fresh spears of pain shot through his heart from the betrayals of his former leader and his people alike. Malika had taken a step towards him, her hand raised in comfort, but her eyes were still unsure in asking what he felt and how to make this okay.

Raoul had no idea. He had read no poems, no stories that had ever captured the anguish that swam in his heart. His own words... no. He couldn't offer her anything at this point. "Will you all please excuse me?" he asked quietly. "I need a walk to clear my head." Without another word, he turned and left Liam's residence to enter the tempest still screaming outside of the walls.

Eziban and Liam quieted and glanced at each other in disbelief. Malika's eyes were still teary, her hands clasped tightly together just in front of her heart as if trying to protect it. "Raoul!!" she called, and finally ran off after him.

Eziban began to follow, but Liam held out an arm to block his path. "I believe my granddaughter will be a far better source of comfort, my boy." His voice was calm, his defensiveness forgotten in the face of the heartbreak on Raoul's face.

Eziban shoved the elf's arm down roughly, still livid. "Don't give me that 'all nice and friendly' BS now," he spat. "You never told us what had happened all this time, yet you assumed that we were all the same as that fiend. You even tried to keep Raoul and Malika apart because of something that happened long before any of us were born."

Liam nodded his agreement, his face sad. "You are right. But, can you understand an old elf's fear for his granddaughter and his people? Would you all have been willing to rise against your leader in the face of this truth alone, and not with the truths that Solana uncovered and this fool attempt at a world revival he plans now?"

Eziban winced at that, as it had hit a lot closer to home than he had expected. "I... I don't know," he admitted slowly, finally backing off. A memory came back to him from four decades ago. It was the night Solana and Aryn had left the Citadel for their journey, and Aryn had come to ask if he'd accompany them. He could almost see her tearing hazel eyes glittering in the soft light thrown off by the crystalline walls...


It had been another long day in the Crystal Citadel. The 'Miniki incident' had been cleaned up as much as possible, but it still galled Bachlan to no end to have such a failure on his head. Eziban had been sleeping badly when Aryn roughly shook him awake, insisting that they talk. To his surprise, tears were glittering in her eyes and she was dressed in sturdy traveling leathers.

Even more surprising was the plan that Solana had come up with for leaving Merna behind and learning the ways of their elements for themselves. Aryn planned to accompany her, and was trying to convince him to come along as well.

"Solana was talking about what happens when we do or don't stop the forces of our world. Who knows what needs it?" Aryn asked seriously.

"I don't know...it's hard to believe that something might need an earthquake," Eziban replied slowly, doubt evident in his voice.

"Do you know for sure?"

"No, I guess I don't."

"There you go!" Aryn said triumphantly, then moved in for what she thought was the kill. "Anyway, it's past time we figured things out for ourselves, to see firsthand how people handle our elements in their worlds. Solana suggested starting with some world ruled by four elemental crystals that has a sweet volcano and an underwater shrine. There are also plenty of cave systems to check out. Can I deal you in?" She looked hopeful, so hopeful that it made him hurt.

Eziban was quiet for a long time as he considered it. But there was only one answer that he could give her. "Aryn, you're the best friend I have here. I think you and Solana are onto something, but I don't believe that leaving is the best way to go. I think we should try to change Bachlan's mind instead."

"With what?" Aryn asked, surprised at the refusal. "He won't listen to Solana or me now, that's for sure!"

Eziban sighed reluctantly. "Yeah, but...I'm really needed here, Aryn. No matter what stupid things Bachlan is doing, we can't let our people pay the price. I can't justify leaving on just the possibility of an answer, but if you guys find something..." he trailed off, a hint of a promise in his words.

Aryn knew that this was all she would get. "I'll miss you, Ezi. I really will," she declared, tears running down her cheeks at the consequences of her decision.

He gave her a friendly peck on the cheek, not wanting to dissaude her. "Save your strength, firebird. You'll need it. Solana will try to look after you, but you'll have to make sure she doesn't drive herself into the ground, okay?" Eziban instructed, blinking away his own set of tears.

Aryn choked back a laugh in agreement with her intuitive friend. Smiling sadly, she gave him a long and reluctant hug good-bye, then stole quietly out of his chambers. Eziban waited for her to turn around for one last look, but she didn't. Maybe she wouldn't have been able to go through with it if she had.

They wouldn't see each other again for decades.


Eziban knew he'd be a hypocrite if he kept berating Liam like this. Besides, after that unholy slaughter, it was no wonder the elves had lived in fear and kept to themselves all of this time. With the other essences at Bachlan's command now, what he could do to them this time would make twenty-five thousand years ago look like a damn papercut.

Besides, Raoul was the one who really had something to be angry about. "What are you going to do about the lovebirds?" Eziban asked.

"Nothing," the elf leader replied, to Eziban's surprise. "My granddaughter is a grown woman and has shown wisdom far beyond my own, and Raoul has been through our rites. I will bless whatever choice they make."

Eziban nodded his approval. He and Liam sat down on some chairs in the room, giving the pair with so much more at stake the time they needed to work things out.

If they could.


Rain fell like tears from the black sky, partially blocked by the thick emerald canopy above the Thunder Guardian's head as he walked deeper and deeper into the forest to an unknown destination. After what he'd seen, it wasn't going to be the lake. He wasn't sure which tears were from his eyes, which were from his soul, and which belonged to the heavens.

Beneath those tears, however, burned an emotion he had never been comfortable with- anger. Raoul felt lost in the storm, more than he ever had. It was something he'd gone through before, being an orphan that had one foot in the world of humanity and the other in the world of the elves and being left to find his own path. The haven of the Guardianship had been his first guide, and his love for his people (and Malika) the second.

The mem-gem had shaken his confidence in both.

Had Bachlan recruited him on purpose, knowing fully what he was? Had it been one more sick joke on his people?

Why had no one ever told him about this before? The elders who had taught him their lore and secrets of pen and brush with smiles in their eyes? Tayn, who soon treated him as a comrade? Liam, who acknowledged him as fully one of their own?

Had they all been mocking him?

"Raoul, wait! Please!" Malika ran up to meet him, touching a hand to his shoulder.

Raoul flinched and jerked away, and Malika's eyes filled with hurt. "You mustn't! Malika, how can you bear to even touch me?"

"What are you talking about?" Malika demanded.

"By Merna, I've been working for the man who stole the essences for millennia! How many of my own ancestors, or yours, were among those that fell for my power?! It was terrible enough learning that we were harming our world all this time, but now-" Raoul trailed off, leaning against a tree in support, his strength suddenly gone as his grief overwhelmed him. His head bowed as he began to sob, covering his face with his hands in shame.

Gentle hands moved his own, and held them tightly. More warm tears fell onto their entwined fingers. "You had nothing to do with this, love. You were not even born yet, and you never knew..." Malika began soothingly.

Raoul cringed. Liam had known all this time, and had chosen to keep it from him. It was all too clear now why the elf leader had taken so long to acquiesce to their courtship, and Ethan's sudden change of heart. "But Liam did," he said harshly, shocked at the venom in his tone. "Generations of our people knew, Ethan and Tayn knew, and no one came to us, or even to me. Why?"

One part of Raoul was watching this exchange in shock. For so long, it had felt safe only to reveal his truest and deepest feelings in someone else's words, in a piece of art. Little by little, his feelings and trust in Malika had been deepening the river of words he allowed to flow from his own heart. With that opening, the great rush of anger and betrayal he felt now couldn't be contained by that fear anymore. Raw honesty was finally bubbling to the surface.

Still, he didn't want to hurt Malika. Not for anything. Pain was glowing now in her eyes as she stared at him, her hand over her heart. "But, Grandfather... he forbid it, he said that our people would be in grave danger if we ever told the reason for our isolation!"

"But I would never-" Raoul began helplessly.

"I know. It's Bachlan we've never trusted, and now I know why. He spared us once; do you really think he would do so again?" Malika demanded. Raoul didn't answer, so Malika came closer and buried her face in his wet shirt, her tears joining his. "Call it cowardice if you like, but in truth we sacrificed our pride to prevent any more bloodshed. If they had come to you with this, Raoul, what would the Guardians have done?"

He couldn't answer that. In the past, he would have tried to find a way around it, a way to keep things as they were without any kind of confrontation. "My duty has always been to Merna, Malika, never to that man. Liam treated me as-" Raoul stopped and suddenly laughed humorlessly at the bitter irony of it all. Malika stared up in shock at the twisted pain of the sound. "-as a man who couldn't handle the truth!"

He sighed and put his arms around her in a desperate hug as Malika nuzzled in closer to him. "I cannot blame him, dearest, for I walked the same path for so very long. I remained silent, I did nothing, while others tried to discover the truth of what we were."

"That's not true. You tried to talk Bachlan into saving your friends' lives!" Malika protested. Her warmth, both in her words and her hug against heaven's cold tears felt like balm for his tortured thoughts.

"Nothing more," Raoul replied sadly, as a new truth finally dawned on him. "Even when I saw Bachlan attack one of my friends in front of my very eyes, still I did not move against him as Eziban did. I stayed out of conflict for so long with the excuse that elves cherish life. But how can one truly cherish something, if one is not willing to protect it?"

Malika reached up and brushed a tear away from those pain-filled eyes. "What is that something that you want to protect now, beloved?"

"It's not something, it's someone," Raoul corrected her gently, a tiny smile blossoming on his face and in his eyes at last. "The woman I love, who has always believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. Malika, you have been my guide in every storm since we met." Tenderly, he brought her hands up and laid a gentle kiss on them.

Malika blushed a rose red. "The strength to do what you needed has always been in you, Raoul. It's just you who couldn't see that."

"And you who showed me. What we share is my treasure, Malika, and I will do whatever I must to ensure that it stays alive along with our world," Raoul swore, his sincerity blazing like a torch.

Finally, finally, the words that had been waiting in his soul just for her had been spoken aloud. He closed his eyes and bent slightly as Malika stood tall to meet him, sealing that promise with a kiss. A scent of wildflowers came from her hair.

"'Why seekest thou treasure under thy feet?'" he murmured in her ear.

"'Seekest thou instead treasure of the spirit'," she replied softly, resting her head against his chest. Raoul ran gentle fingers through the silky veil of hair that crowned her, feeling sparks going through his entire body. Sparks that grew and intensified, that were starting to feel... like lightning.

Raoul opened his eyes in shock. Veils of yellow and gold were swirling in the air, and coming to them! Lightning entered his blood, and snaps and crackles could be heard as it shifted inside him, settling down calmly like a contented cat. The power that had been his to wield for so many millennia, that was ready now to be turned to the right cause, had come back to him.

Malika looked around and gasped in wonder. "Raoul? I don't understand..."

"It's my essence, Malika! It's come back to me somehow!" he explained joyfully. Malika laughed in delight as Raoul caught her hands and whirled her around in a little dance.

"So, it seems you are Merna's chosen Thunder Guardian after all," declared a voice laced with amusement.

Raoul and Malika stopped and stared in surprise as Liam and Eziban came to meet them, then began blushing furiously. Eziban just winked at them, promising to wait with the teasing until a more convenient time, then looked at Liam expectantly. "How do you mean?"

"The essences were to remain in our care until Merna itself would present them to its chosen Guardians. Just now, it has restored the power of the thunder essence to Raoul of its own free will, making him a Guardian in the way it was supposed to be," Liam answered, approval shining in his dark eyes.

Malika's face broke into a huge smile. "That's so wonderful! And we can help them now, right, Grandfather? Since that proves he's a true Guardian?"

"Yes, my dear. If we can aid you two in any manner, please, let us know," Liam stated.

"Actually, there is something you can do," Eziban commented suddenly. All eyes flickered to him, and the Earth Guardian swallowed, wondering how the elf leader would react to his request.

There was only one way to find out. "Give us the Sacred Stars."