Post by Lady Elestirne on May 8, 2007 18:31:20 GMT -5
Twelfth Chapter
The next morning dawned fair and clear. A light rain had come and passed a few hours before dawn and, together with the dew, it made everything sparkle like gems in the morning light. Elestirne and Amaurea were working in the garden: planting, trimming, and cutting. The soft light illuminated them both and for a moment, both looked like bright angels; surrounded by, and seeming to glow with, radiant light.
Some ways apart Elentirmo was walking restlessly; skirting the fringes of the grove as if searching for something. His and Amaurea's talk of the night before had heartened him a little but still he was worried and he could not shake the feeling of unease that had been plaguing him since he had awoken. 'Teach her all you can, while you can,' Galion had said. What was he to teach her, what should he teach her? He had no way of knowing how many years they had-no way of knowing when the attack would come. At the least, he should definitely teach her some basic skills in weapons and hand-fighting, and maybe a protection spell or two.
Just because Galion said that she would live through the attack when it came did not mean that she would not be attacked as well by whomever initiated the attack…or that she would escape unscathed from the attack. Yes, he would definitely need to teach her how to fight. But…where to begin? What weapon should he instruct her in the use of first? He pursed his lips together thoughtfully.
A dagger, he decided after some length of thought, and a long knife-with perhaps some hand-fighting thrown in… She is not of an age where I think her ready to begin learning sword, or fighting from horseback, or bow. Maybe when she is older she will be but not now. Also a bow would be impractical, and of little use in an attack-especially if the attack occurred as an ambush. Elentirmo had little love for bow-fighting-the sword was his chosen and preferred weapon. A bow he only took up at need-and for hunting more often than not. So then, he mused to himself, that answers the question of what I will start out teaching her in weapons, and I will also teach her how to meditate and show her a few protection spells. With all of that she should be well off-or moderately so-and able to defend and protect herself reasonably well…
The next questions-yet again-are when will the attack come, and where; so that I at least can be somewhat prepared. But of course I will likely not learn those things-in case I sought to prevent the attack. Most likely it will be a complete surprise-coming suddenly and unexpectedly-and I will be unprepared because my foresight will give me no forewarning of it. You are not supposed to know your own destiny…no one is supposed to know their fate or the end planned for them. That knowledge is for the gods alone, and the Father of All. It is not for us to know.
Soft singing interrupted his thoughts and he looked towards its source. Amaurea, kneeling in the garden, had lifted her voice in song. She often sang while she worked. Garbed in green and surrounded by green, with her bright hair gleaming gold in the sunlight she was radiant; looking as much like a young maiden as she did a grown woman. Her song was soft and sweet, her voice pure. Elentirmo loved it when she sang. But she only ever sang in her native tongue, the tongue of the wood-elves-never in the tongue of his kindred. Woven in her song was the joy of spring; of green things growing and blooming; of warm bright sunlight and cool, damp earth. Elentirmo spoke only a little of the wood-elven tongue but that much of the song at least, he could understand. It was not so much the words he understood as it was the feeling of the song. He just felt that, given that she was in her garden and singing in her toungue that the song was about nature.
Listening, Elentirmo felt some of his cares and worries ease. The melody was so simple and sweet that it made complex things meaningless and unimportant. After a few minutes Amaurea was joined, to Elentirmo's surprise, by Elestirne. His daughter sang uncertainly at first, but then grew in confidence after a few more minutes; her untrained voice pure, sweet, and clear. Every so often she would falter-stumbling over some word or note as she tried to match her mother- but Amaurea would gently correct her and the melody would flow true.
Elentirmo smiled to himself as he watched his wife and daughter singing together in the garden; both unaware that he watched. On a morning like this, surrounded by golden sunlight and sweet singing it was hard for dark thoughts to linger-if they managed to materialize at all. He was just a little surprised that Amaurea had, it seemed, been teaching Elestirne the wood-elven speech but realized-after thinking about it a little more-that it was a natural thing to do. After all, the child is part wood-elf, through Amaurea, so it is reasonable that Amaurea would want to teach her the tongue of that people. And one day it may serve her in good stead; knowing both tongues. She may need the ability one day…
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he took a deep breath of the refreshing air and looked up at the cloudless sky. It's a beautiful day for a ride, he reflected. I think that one would do me good…and Duath could use the exercise… Besides, he wanted to practice with his sword and he preferred to do that apart from Amaurea and Elestirne. No sooner had he had these thoughts then did he hear a snort and felt a nudge in the small of his back. There was a stamp of a hoof and the tall elf turned to see his mighty stallion standing a scant pace behind him; an expectant look in his eyes.
Elentirmo laughed softly. "Clever Duath. You know what I'm thinking eh? Want to go for a ride friend?" The mighty stallion nodded; tossing his mane and snorting, then indicating his back with a toss of his head. "Now Duath, you know I won't ride you without a bridle." The great horse gave him a resigned look, then bent his head to lift something from the ground. His bridle was held carefully in his teeth. Elentirmo laughed a second time, took the bridle, and buckled it on securely; giving his stallion a wry look when he finished. "I suppose you don't want the saddle?" Duath gave him a long, level look that spoke volumes, then went to his knees to allow Elentirmo to mount. The elf shook his head, but leapt astride without further comment and settled into place as Duath rose once again to full height. Taking up the reins, Elentirmo tapped Duath's sides with his heels and the dark stallion moved off easily; breaking into a trot once they left the grove. Neither Amaurea nor Elestirne noticed his departure.
Amaurea sang for a little longer, then let the song fade and gradually drift away on the breeze. There was a moment of silence-as if the grove had held its breath during the song-then regular sound assumed.
"Sing again Ama! Please!" Elestirne's face was earnest, eager; her eyes bright. "Oh please Mother! Please?"
Amaurea gave the child a considering look. "Well now, I don't know…"
"Please Ama?" Elestirne begged beseechingly. I love to hear you sing."
Amaurea tried to keep her face stern and resolved, but a solemn face ill-suited the wood-elf and invariably she eventually broke into a smile. "Well…"Amaurea deliberately paused; teasing her daughter.
"Oh Ama please? Please sing again for me?" Elestirne's lower lip stuck out in the pretense of a pout.
Amaurea flicked her daughter's lip lightly with a finger; making it flap. Elestirne giggled in spite of herself, but determinedly tried to keep the expression.
"Careful Eles,"Amaurea said with a perfectly straight face-though she was fighting to keep from laughing herself. "It might just stay that way."
Elestirne abandoned the look instantly; eyes wide. "Really? Would that happen Ama?"
Amaurea laughed at her daughter's incredulity. "Who can say sweetheart? Best not chance it hmm?"
Elestirne nodded fervently; her previous occupation with her mother singing again gone wholly from her mind as she mulled this over. She picked up a herb strange to her and fingered it for a few moments before speaking again. "What kind of herb is this Mother?" she asked wonderingly.
Amaurea glanced at it briefly before returning her attention to the plants she was pruning. "Wild mustard my dear. It's quite useful. It can be used in foods and salads as an added seasoning and its leaves can be made into a paste or poultice to aid in the healing of some wounds."
"How did you learn so much about plants and herbs Ama?"
Amaurea laughed softly. "I'm a wood-elf dear one, a daughter of the forest. We have a way with plants and nature, and are born knowing some things about the forest and its creatures; notably an inborn sense of plants of animals that might be dangerous or poisonous, and must be stayed away from." Amusement entered the wood-elf's eyes. "Some at least. Knowledge of others must be gained through personal experience-and that can be a painful lesson."
Elestirne was confused. "But Mother…I thought that all animals were our friends; that we lived in harmony with and among them and that none would want to hurt us…"
"Yes my child; that is so. But though it is so-for the most part-we still must be cautious. All animals of the forest and plains are by nature wild and in some there is a more savage nature than others, and it is these who are more dangerous and we take more caution and care among them. These ones are the great predators-the big cats, wolves, bears and the like. But it is not just them Eles. Any animal can become aggressive-even violent-for little or no reason at all, and in the blink of an eye. This is especially true of mothers-nursing or no-for they are fiercely protective of their young." A rueful smile touched Amaurea's lips. "Nothing in all the world is quite so fierce as a mother's love for her children-except perhaps, her instinct to protect them when she perceives them to be endangered or threatened. Never forget that dear one. It is a lesson I learned early in my life."
"I won't forget Mother,"Elestirne promised solemnly. The child's eyes brightened with curiosity now; twinkiling with what could have been a hint of mischief. "How did you learn that lesson Mother?"
Amaurea chuckled; looking shamefaced. "Well…"
Elestirne's eyes brightened more. "Are you going to tell me a story? A story in place of a song? Oh do tell Ama! Please, oh please!" Elestirne's face was so earnest that Amaurea couldn't resist. She smiled at her daughter. "Well dear one, it was long, long ago. I was but a child-as you are now-and about your age, maybe a little younger…"
Enraptured, Elestirne settled down to listen. This was a rare pleasure. She almost never heard her mother or father speak of their youth or their past. In fact, she couldn't recall when the last time had been. Since she had no way of knowing when the next time would be that either her mother or father would talk about themselves she vowed to be more attentive than she had ever previously been, and to not daydream or let her mind wander at all during this story-well, not overmuch, she amended.
"I think I was a great despair to my mother at that age,"Amaurea was saying; laughing quietly to herself. The wood-elf's eyes were soft with memories. As a matter of fact…I know I was. It seemed I could never do as I was told or stay where I was put for any longer than a few minutes. I was always up and moving; never in the same place. I rarely seemed to be where I was supposed to be; instead I always seemed to be either into-or investigating-one thing or another. I was a very curious child; always doing something, never quiet. My mother used to say of me that I was born with a smile and tried to run before walking. She may well have been right for there was a restlessness that could not be contained. It seemed that I was running and exploring as soon as I knew how to walk and once I was off I was not easily caught. If those that were supposed to be watching me were not paying attention I was gone; off in the blink of an eye.
"One spring day I wandered farther from home than I should have and came across some wolf pups in a meadow. One had hurt its paw and I was trying to coax it to me so I could get a closer look, and then take it to my mother for healing-when its mother returned.
"She didn't see me as a curious child trying to help one of her puppies, she saw me as an intruder potentionally threatening them, and she made it clear to me that I wasn't welcome and that she was terribly displeased with me for trespassing. She came after me with her hackles raised and teeth bared and chased me from her territory with much growling and barking; nipping at my skirts and ankles all the while."
Elestirne was listening intently. Her eyes were wide and she was motionless; completely engrossed in the story. A little caterpillar had inched up her hand and curled around a finger like a fuzzy ring. She stroked it absently. "Then what happened Ama?"
"What then?" Her mother chuckled self-mockingly. "I escaped-none the worse for wear. The she-wolf never intended to hurt me-she only wanted to impress upon me the fact that I had done something wrong. And she most definitely accomplished that goal. My mother found me then and scolded me most heartily; first for not staying put; second for wandering too far; and thirdly for approaching the wolf's young without her permission." Amaurea shook her head; smiling with memories. "She had me go back to that meadow and apologize to the wolf for my trespass, and approaching her pups without leave. Such was my lesson and thus is yours daughter: treat all animals with respect and caution-especially predators-and do not come between or approach an animal's young without their permission. You never know when something you do-even if unintentional-might be taken as offensive or displeasing and they could decide to come after you. All animals can be dangerous in their own way-even those that are not predators. You must remember that."
"That was why you tried to call me back from approaching the fawn?" asked Elestirne in sudden understanding.
"Yes my dear-the stag could have decided to charge or trample you and I would have been helpless to do anything." Amaurea hugged Elestirne fiercely. "I feared for your life then, my daughter-feared losing you. Come. You have had your story now and there is still work yet to be done in the garden."
Obediently, Elestirne started to get up-but then shrieked suddenly; brushing frantically at her skirt. Something small, dark, and many-legged fell from the cloth to the ground and scuttled about. Eles shrieked again as it came towards her and sidestepped it anxiously.
Amaurea chuckled at her daughter's antics. "It is but a little spider dear one. It cannot hurt you."
" I detest spiders Ama!" Elestirne shuddered with revulsion; still warily and anxiously eyeing the ground. "I can't stand them."
"Since when?" Amaurea challenged her daughter. "You never appeared to mind them before. Why now?"
"They just...the way they look...and the way they move..."the child shuddered again. "The legs...and the eyes..."
Amaurea shuddered a little herself. She had never really liked spiders either. They unsettled her and elves were, as a rule, wary of and had little love-if any-for the eight-legged insects. In Amaurea's case, she had never liked spiders but she had learned from her own mother very early on that, although they were ominous-looking and unsightly, there was little to be feared from them. It was time now that Elestirne learn the same lesson.
"They cannot help the way they look dear one and I am sure it did not mean to frighten you. You may not like the way it looks and moves but the poor thing can scarcely help how it was made. Everything is as it is for a reason child. We all have a purpose in the world, a reason for being. Even the ugliest, smallest or most seeming insignificant thing has its own purpose and part to play in the grand design of things. It is all a balance-one which we are all a part of and contribute to. You may not like the spider, but he has his place and knows it and has a right to live just as much as you do. He keeps down the insect population. In fact, he probably found you more frightening than you found him. In short, sweetheart, do not judge something merely by how it looks or moves. There is infinitely more to things than their appearance."
Elestirne shuddered again, still repulsed-whatever her mother might say-but recognized that she was being told something important and nodded solemnly. "Everything has its own place and worth, and reason to live," she said slowly. "and things cannot always be judged by appearance because things are more than what they appear to be."
"Yes dearheart that's right." Amaurea was well-pleased with her daughter. "Come child. Let us go and get something to eat, for noon has come and passed and I hunger." Eles nodded and eagerly followed her mother from the garden-but not until after she had slid the caterpillar off her finger and placed it gently and tenderly onto a broad leaf; partially covering it with another leaf. "Sty safe small one," she whispered before scampering after her mother as Amaurea called for her.
Elentirmo rode through the woods leisurely; enjoying the sunlight that lanced down through the treetops and warmed his face. Beneath him Duath pranced; sidestepping and cavaling with little nickers of happiness. Elentirmo patted the dark stallion's muscled neck and Duath snorted and dipped his head; turning a little to nuzzle his master briefly. Dark thoughts were far from their minds-rather, they thought only of the beautiful day and the birdsong filling their ears. In no hurry, and with no particular destination in mind Elentirmo rode with a loose rein-all too happy to let Duath dictate pace and path while his mind wandered hither and thither. He knew the midnight-hued stallion would alert him if any danger threatened.
It had been awhile since he had ridden Duath bareback last, he mused. A year or two. He hadn't realized before that he missed it. The dark stallion and he seemed so much more in tune this way, more in sync; moving as one rather than as two. Duath whickered and nodded-dipping his head in agreement-then halted with a snort.
Elentirmo looked around. The dark horse had brought him to a wide, level clearing; ringed all around by trees-a perfect place in which to practice swordsmanship. "Hannen lle my friend," he murmured as he slid off. The stallion merely dipped his head in acknowledgement and answer, then wandered over to the far side in search of some tender grass to munch on-and to stay out of the way of his master's practicing. Elentirmo chuckled to himself, then assumed his favorite fighting position and began to practice; his sword whistling and cutting through the air as though it were weightless.
The elf lost awareness of his surroundings-forgetting even about Duath-as he continued practicing; losing himself in the intricate and graceful positions and guards of his swordwork, which seemed almost a dance. He loved the feeling of effortlessness and the thrill it gave him to perfectly execute a particularly difficult or complicated move; the feeling of control. His father had taught him the art of the sword long, long ago-when he had been a little younger than Elestirne-and,ever since then the tall elf had loved sword fighting and the relaxed, content feeling it gave him. Others might prefer meditation as a way to relax but for Elentirmo, sword fighting was his meditation. Finishing a move and spinning into another, Elentirmo heard Duath snort and he finished the spin move to be promptly startled by finding Galion standing at the very edge of his sword's reach. "Fighting air again my lord Elentirmo?" the seer asked serenely.
Elentirmo staggered back some paces in shock. "Galion….?!"
"Naturally. Who else would you think me to be?"
Abashed, Elentirmo flushed but quickly regained his composure. "I did not expect you ancient one," he said respectfully. "You startled me."
"I am not bound by expectations," the seer said bluntly. "I appear as often or no as I will. I come to you now to learn Amaurea's reaction. You did tell her didn't you?"
Elentirmo nodded unhappily; sheathing his sword. "I did…"he admitted reluctantly. "You were right: she took it better than I thought she would, but was still most upset and shaken."
"Sooner told is better than later," Galion remarked wisely. "If you had waited you would have continued to put it off and it may eventually have been too late by the time you did tell her. Now, at least, she knows what will come; little comfort though that may be."
"I wish you had not told me," Elentirmo muttered; half meaning it. "It's such a terrible burden-to know I will die-yet not know when or how; nor have anyway to prepare e'en if I did know. I wish I was something other than I am."
"No you don't!" Galion's voice suddenly turned fierce and stern. "Don't ever wish that! You are who you are for a reason. This path was chosen for you. Authority is not given you, Elentirmo, to renounce your lineage and destiny. We all have a part to play in this. Even I am bound. None of us are free. And I have not kept watch over and guarded your family for generations for it all to come to naught! The prophecy must come to pass!"
Shaken by the seer's sudden and startling change of demeanor, Elentirmo hastily apologized. After a few minutes the seer's ancient face softened a little; some regret entering it. "I forgive you my lord. You are frightened, as you have a right to be. I understand that. But what you must understand is that I am frightened also; no less than you, perhaps more. I cannot see all-no one is granted that-only glimpses, fragments. But that which I have seen has told me beyond a doubt that the prophecy needs to come to pass. The feud between the kindreds that the faithless one instigated cannot be allowed to go on. It must be healed-or it will destroy the realm, and the people. Do you understand?"
Elentirmo nodded solemnly. "I think I do. You mean to say to say I am the beginning of it all-and Amaurea. We set it into motion. Without us, the prophecy falls to ashes. Elestirne is the spark-the symbol of hope, renewal and rebirth-without her the prophecy will not, cannot happen or come to fulfillment."
Galion looked at him levelly-but said nothing.
The dark-haired elf faltered under that level gaze; unsure how to continue, nor how much more of an answer Galion wanted-for he had the feeling the seer wanted him to continue.
Fortunately though, he was saved in the end from responding-for Galion spoke. "You still have a part to play in the prophecy. Do not think that, by bringing into the world the one meant to fulfill the prophecy,your own part is over. It is not."
"What then," ventured Elentirmo cautiously; keenly wary about irritating the seer, "is your part old one? How are you bound within all this, to my family and the prophecy?"
Galion fixed Elentirmo with such a piercing gaze that the younger elf couldn't help but step back. "I am bound," Galion said at length. "No more than that need you know or be told. I was there when it began, and helped your ancestress-sister of the then-king-to escape the attack and so, I need to help bring the prophecy to fulfillment and end it. In other ways I am bound to your family but the reason I just gave should be sufficient for a question that should not have been asked to begin with."
Elentirmo flushed at the rebuke-refraining with an effort from asking what other ways the seer was connected with his family, how he had helped Elentirmo's ancestress, or why Galion felt he needed to help end what he had seen begun. This did not stop the tall elf from reeling inwardly with shock at having the seer's rough age confirmed. He must be ancient indeed… One question, however, did escape him before he could contain it. "Have you seen anything else about the attack? When it will come... how I will die?"
Galion looked at him askance; giving him a patronizing look. "Do you think that the passing of a night since my telling you of it means that I will see more of it? You ought to know that the foresight does not work that way by now my lord. And you also ought to know that a seer-being one yourself-seldom gives straight answers. A lesson for you if you have not learned it already: do not ask questions of seers unless you know what you ask and want to hear the response. Elsewise you may not like the answers."
Behind the two elves Duath snorted; the night-dark stallion nickering with laughter. Elentirmo cast the horse a look of mock sharpness and severity, then turned back to Galion. But the seer was not there.
The next morning dawned fair and clear. A light rain had come and passed a few hours before dawn and, together with the dew, it made everything sparkle like gems in the morning light. Elestirne and Amaurea were working in the garden: planting, trimming, and cutting. The soft light illuminated them both and for a moment, both looked like bright angels; surrounded by, and seeming to glow with, radiant light.
Some ways apart Elentirmo was walking restlessly; skirting the fringes of the grove as if searching for something. His and Amaurea's talk of the night before had heartened him a little but still he was worried and he could not shake the feeling of unease that had been plaguing him since he had awoken. 'Teach her all you can, while you can,' Galion had said. What was he to teach her, what should he teach her? He had no way of knowing how many years they had-no way of knowing when the attack would come. At the least, he should definitely teach her some basic skills in weapons and hand-fighting, and maybe a protection spell or two.
Just because Galion said that she would live through the attack when it came did not mean that she would not be attacked as well by whomever initiated the attack…or that she would escape unscathed from the attack. Yes, he would definitely need to teach her how to fight. But…where to begin? What weapon should he instruct her in the use of first? He pursed his lips together thoughtfully.
A dagger, he decided after some length of thought, and a long knife-with perhaps some hand-fighting thrown in… She is not of an age where I think her ready to begin learning sword, or fighting from horseback, or bow. Maybe when she is older she will be but not now. Also a bow would be impractical, and of little use in an attack-especially if the attack occurred as an ambush. Elentirmo had little love for bow-fighting-the sword was his chosen and preferred weapon. A bow he only took up at need-and for hunting more often than not. So then, he mused to himself, that answers the question of what I will start out teaching her in weapons, and I will also teach her how to meditate and show her a few protection spells. With all of that she should be well off-or moderately so-and able to defend and protect herself reasonably well…
The next questions-yet again-are when will the attack come, and where; so that I at least can be somewhat prepared. But of course I will likely not learn those things-in case I sought to prevent the attack. Most likely it will be a complete surprise-coming suddenly and unexpectedly-and I will be unprepared because my foresight will give me no forewarning of it. You are not supposed to know your own destiny…no one is supposed to know their fate or the end planned for them. That knowledge is for the gods alone, and the Father of All. It is not for us to know.
Soft singing interrupted his thoughts and he looked towards its source. Amaurea, kneeling in the garden, had lifted her voice in song. She often sang while she worked. Garbed in green and surrounded by green, with her bright hair gleaming gold in the sunlight she was radiant; looking as much like a young maiden as she did a grown woman. Her song was soft and sweet, her voice pure. Elentirmo loved it when she sang. But she only ever sang in her native tongue, the tongue of the wood-elves-never in the tongue of his kindred. Woven in her song was the joy of spring; of green things growing and blooming; of warm bright sunlight and cool, damp earth. Elentirmo spoke only a little of the wood-elven tongue but that much of the song at least, he could understand. It was not so much the words he understood as it was the feeling of the song. He just felt that, given that she was in her garden and singing in her toungue that the song was about nature.
Listening, Elentirmo felt some of his cares and worries ease. The melody was so simple and sweet that it made complex things meaningless and unimportant. After a few minutes Amaurea was joined, to Elentirmo's surprise, by Elestirne. His daughter sang uncertainly at first, but then grew in confidence after a few more minutes; her untrained voice pure, sweet, and clear. Every so often she would falter-stumbling over some word or note as she tried to match her mother- but Amaurea would gently correct her and the melody would flow true.
Elentirmo smiled to himself as he watched his wife and daughter singing together in the garden; both unaware that he watched. On a morning like this, surrounded by golden sunlight and sweet singing it was hard for dark thoughts to linger-if they managed to materialize at all. He was just a little surprised that Amaurea had, it seemed, been teaching Elestirne the wood-elven speech but realized-after thinking about it a little more-that it was a natural thing to do. After all, the child is part wood-elf, through Amaurea, so it is reasonable that Amaurea would want to teach her the tongue of that people. And one day it may serve her in good stead; knowing both tongues. She may need the ability one day…
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he took a deep breath of the refreshing air and looked up at the cloudless sky. It's a beautiful day for a ride, he reflected. I think that one would do me good…and Duath could use the exercise… Besides, he wanted to practice with his sword and he preferred to do that apart from Amaurea and Elestirne. No sooner had he had these thoughts then did he hear a snort and felt a nudge in the small of his back. There was a stamp of a hoof and the tall elf turned to see his mighty stallion standing a scant pace behind him; an expectant look in his eyes.
Elentirmo laughed softly. "Clever Duath. You know what I'm thinking eh? Want to go for a ride friend?" The mighty stallion nodded; tossing his mane and snorting, then indicating his back with a toss of his head. "Now Duath, you know I won't ride you without a bridle." The great horse gave him a resigned look, then bent his head to lift something from the ground. His bridle was held carefully in his teeth. Elentirmo laughed a second time, took the bridle, and buckled it on securely; giving his stallion a wry look when he finished. "I suppose you don't want the saddle?" Duath gave him a long, level look that spoke volumes, then went to his knees to allow Elentirmo to mount. The elf shook his head, but leapt astride without further comment and settled into place as Duath rose once again to full height. Taking up the reins, Elentirmo tapped Duath's sides with his heels and the dark stallion moved off easily; breaking into a trot once they left the grove. Neither Amaurea nor Elestirne noticed his departure.
Amaurea sang for a little longer, then let the song fade and gradually drift away on the breeze. There was a moment of silence-as if the grove had held its breath during the song-then regular sound assumed.
"Sing again Ama! Please!" Elestirne's face was earnest, eager; her eyes bright. "Oh please Mother! Please?"
Amaurea gave the child a considering look. "Well now, I don't know…"
"Please Ama?" Elestirne begged beseechingly. I love to hear you sing."
Amaurea tried to keep her face stern and resolved, but a solemn face ill-suited the wood-elf and invariably she eventually broke into a smile. "Well…"Amaurea deliberately paused; teasing her daughter.
"Oh Ama please? Please sing again for me?" Elestirne's lower lip stuck out in the pretense of a pout.
Amaurea flicked her daughter's lip lightly with a finger; making it flap. Elestirne giggled in spite of herself, but determinedly tried to keep the expression.
"Careful Eles,"Amaurea said with a perfectly straight face-though she was fighting to keep from laughing herself. "It might just stay that way."
Elestirne abandoned the look instantly; eyes wide. "Really? Would that happen Ama?"
Amaurea laughed at her daughter's incredulity. "Who can say sweetheart? Best not chance it hmm?"
Elestirne nodded fervently; her previous occupation with her mother singing again gone wholly from her mind as she mulled this over. She picked up a herb strange to her and fingered it for a few moments before speaking again. "What kind of herb is this Mother?" she asked wonderingly.
Amaurea glanced at it briefly before returning her attention to the plants she was pruning. "Wild mustard my dear. It's quite useful. It can be used in foods and salads as an added seasoning and its leaves can be made into a paste or poultice to aid in the healing of some wounds."
"How did you learn so much about plants and herbs Ama?"
Amaurea laughed softly. "I'm a wood-elf dear one, a daughter of the forest. We have a way with plants and nature, and are born knowing some things about the forest and its creatures; notably an inborn sense of plants of animals that might be dangerous or poisonous, and must be stayed away from." Amusement entered the wood-elf's eyes. "Some at least. Knowledge of others must be gained through personal experience-and that can be a painful lesson."
Elestirne was confused. "But Mother…I thought that all animals were our friends; that we lived in harmony with and among them and that none would want to hurt us…"
"Yes my child; that is so. But though it is so-for the most part-we still must be cautious. All animals of the forest and plains are by nature wild and in some there is a more savage nature than others, and it is these who are more dangerous and we take more caution and care among them. These ones are the great predators-the big cats, wolves, bears and the like. But it is not just them Eles. Any animal can become aggressive-even violent-for little or no reason at all, and in the blink of an eye. This is especially true of mothers-nursing or no-for they are fiercely protective of their young." A rueful smile touched Amaurea's lips. "Nothing in all the world is quite so fierce as a mother's love for her children-except perhaps, her instinct to protect them when she perceives them to be endangered or threatened. Never forget that dear one. It is a lesson I learned early in my life."
"I won't forget Mother,"Elestirne promised solemnly. The child's eyes brightened with curiosity now; twinkiling with what could have been a hint of mischief. "How did you learn that lesson Mother?"
Amaurea chuckled; looking shamefaced. "Well…"
Elestirne's eyes brightened more. "Are you going to tell me a story? A story in place of a song? Oh do tell Ama! Please, oh please!" Elestirne's face was so earnest that Amaurea couldn't resist. She smiled at her daughter. "Well dear one, it was long, long ago. I was but a child-as you are now-and about your age, maybe a little younger…"
Enraptured, Elestirne settled down to listen. This was a rare pleasure. She almost never heard her mother or father speak of their youth or their past. In fact, she couldn't recall when the last time had been. Since she had no way of knowing when the next time would be that either her mother or father would talk about themselves she vowed to be more attentive than she had ever previously been, and to not daydream or let her mind wander at all during this story-well, not overmuch, she amended.
"I think I was a great despair to my mother at that age,"Amaurea was saying; laughing quietly to herself. The wood-elf's eyes were soft with memories. As a matter of fact…I know I was. It seemed I could never do as I was told or stay where I was put for any longer than a few minutes. I was always up and moving; never in the same place. I rarely seemed to be where I was supposed to be; instead I always seemed to be either into-or investigating-one thing or another. I was a very curious child; always doing something, never quiet. My mother used to say of me that I was born with a smile and tried to run before walking. She may well have been right for there was a restlessness that could not be contained. It seemed that I was running and exploring as soon as I knew how to walk and once I was off I was not easily caught. If those that were supposed to be watching me were not paying attention I was gone; off in the blink of an eye.
"One spring day I wandered farther from home than I should have and came across some wolf pups in a meadow. One had hurt its paw and I was trying to coax it to me so I could get a closer look, and then take it to my mother for healing-when its mother returned.
"She didn't see me as a curious child trying to help one of her puppies, she saw me as an intruder potentionally threatening them, and she made it clear to me that I wasn't welcome and that she was terribly displeased with me for trespassing. She came after me with her hackles raised and teeth bared and chased me from her territory with much growling and barking; nipping at my skirts and ankles all the while."
Elestirne was listening intently. Her eyes were wide and she was motionless; completely engrossed in the story. A little caterpillar had inched up her hand and curled around a finger like a fuzzy ring. She stroked it absently. "Then what happened Ama?"
"What then?" Her mother chuckled self-mockingly. "I escaped-none the worse for wear. The she-wolf never intended to hurt me-she only wanted to impress upon me the fact that I had done something wrong. And she most definitely accomplished that goal. My mother found me then and scolded me most heartily; first for not staying put; second for wandering too far; and thirdly for approaching the wolf's young without her permission." Amaurea shook her head; smiling with memories. "She had me go back to that meadow and apologize to the wolf for my trespass, and approaching her pups without leave. Such was my lesson and thus is yours daughter: treat all animals with respect and caution-especially predators-and do not come between or approach an animal's young without their permission. You never know when something you do-even if unintentional-might be taken as offensive or displeasing and they could decide to come after you. All animals can be dangerous in their own way-even those that are not predators. You must remember that."
"That was why you tried to call me back from approaching the fawn?" asked Elestirne in sudden understanding.
"Yes my dear-the stag could have decided to charge or trample you and I would have been helpless to do anything." Amaurea hugged Elestirne fiercely. "I feared for your life then, my daughter-feared losing you. Come. You have had your story now and there is still work yet to be done in the garden."
Obediently, Elestirne started to get up-but then shrieked suddenly; brushing frantically at her skirt. Something small, dark, and many-legged fell from the cloth to the ground and scuttled about. Eles shrieked again as it came towards her and sidestepped it anxiously.
Amaurea chuckled at her daughter's antics. "It is but a little spider dear one. It cannot hurt you."
" I detest spiders Ama!" Elestirne shuddered with revulsion; still warily and anxiously eyeing the ground. "I can't stand them."
"Since when?" Amaurea challenged her daughter. "You never appeared to mind them before. Why now?"
"They just...the way they look...and the way they move..."the child shuddered again. "The legs...and the eyes..."
Amaurea shuddered a little herself. She had never really liked spiders either. They unsettled her and elves were, as a rule, wary of and had little love-if any-for the eight-legged insects. In Amaurea's case, she had never liked spiders but she had learned from her own mother very early on that, although they were ominous-looking and unsightly, there was little to be feared from them. It was time now that Elestirne learn the same lesson.
"They cannot help the way they look dear one and I am sure it did not mean to frighten you. You may not like the way it looks and moves but the poor thing can scarcely help how it was made. Everything is as it is for a reason child. We all have a purpose in the world, a reason for being. Even the ugliest, smallest or most seeming insignificant thing has its own purpose and part to play in the grand design of things. It is all a balance-one which we are all a part of and contribute to. You may not like the spider, but he has his place and knows it and has a right to live just as much as you do. He keeps down the insect population. In fact, he probably found you more frightening than you found him. In short, sweetheart, do not judge something merely by how it looks or moves. There is infinitely more to things than their appearance."
Elestirne shuddered again, still repulsed-whatever her mother might say-but recognized that she was being told something important and nodded solemnly. "Everything has its own place and worth, and reason to live," she said slowly. "and things cannot always be judged by appearance because things are more than what they appear to be."
"Yes dearheart that's right." Amaurea was well-pleased with her daughter. "Come child. Let us go and get something to eat, for noon has come and passed and I hunger." Eles nodded and eagerly followed her mother from the garden-but not until after she had slid the caterpillar off her finger and placed it gently and tenderly onto a broad leaf; partially covering it with another leaf. "Sty safe small one," she whispered before scampering after her mother as Amaurea called for her.
Elentirmo rode through the woods leisurely; enjoying the sunlight that lanced down through the treetops and warmed his face. Beneath him Duath pranced; sidestepping and cavaling with little nickers of happiness. Elentirmo patted the dark stallion's muscled neck and Duath snorted and dipped his head; turning a little to nuzzle his master briefly. Dark thoughts were far from their minds-rather, they thought only of the beautiful day and the birdsong filling their ears. In no hurry, and with no particular destination in mind Elentirmo rode with a loose rein-all too happy to let Duath dictate pace and path while his mind wandered hither and thither. He knew the midnight-hued stallion would alert him if any danger threatened.
It had been awhile since he had ridden Duath bareback last, he mused. A year or two. He hadn't realized before that he missed it. The dark stallion and he seemed so much more in tune this way, more in sync; moving as one rather than as two. Duath whickered and nodded-dipping his head in agreement-then halted with a snort.
Elentirmo looked around. The dark horse had brought him to a wide, level clearing; ringed all around by trees-a perfect place in which to practice swordsmanship. "Hannen lle my friend," he murmured as he slid off. The stallion merely dipped his head in acknowledgement and answer, then wandered over to the far side in search of some tender grass to munch on-and to stay out of the way of his master's practicing. Elentirmo chuckled to himself, then assumed his favorite fighting position and began to practice; his sword whistling and cutting through the air as though it were weightless.
The elf lost awareness of his surroundings-forgetting even about Duath-as he continued practicing; losing himself in the intricate and graceful positions and guards of his swordwork, which seemed almost a dance. He loved the feeling of effortlessness and the thrill it gave him to perfectly execute a particularly difficult or complicated move; the feeling of control. His father had taught him the art of the sword long, long ago-when he had been a little younger than Elestirne-and,ever since then the tall elf had loved sword fighting and the relaxed, content feeling it gave him. Others might prefer meditation as a way to relax but for Elentirmo, sword fighting was his meditation. Finishing a move and spinning into another, Elentirmo heard Duath snort and he finished the spin move to be promptly startled by finding Galion standing at the very edge of his sword's reach. "Fighting air again my lord Elentirmo?" the seer asked serenely.
Elentirmo staggered back some paces in shock. "Galion….?!"
"Naturally. Who else would you think me to be?"
Abashed, Elentirmo flushed but quickly regained his composure. "I did not expect you ancient one," he said respectfully. "You startled me."
"I am not bound by expectations," the seer said bluntly. "I appear as often or no as I will. I come to you now to learn Amaurea's reaction. You did tell her didn't you?"
Elentirmo nodded unhappily; sheathing his sword. "I did…"he admitted reluctantly. "You were right: she took it better than I thought she would, but was still most upset and shaken."
"Sooner told is better than later," Galion remarked wisely. "If you had waited you would have continued to put it off and it may eventually have been too late by the time you did tell her. Now, at least, she knows what will come; little comfort though that may be."
"I wish you had not told me," Elentirmo muttered; half meaning it. "It's such a terrible burden-to know I will die-yet not know when or how; nor have anyway to prepare e'en if I did know. I wish I was something other than I am."
"No you don't!" Galion's voice suddenly turned fierce and stern. "Don't ever wish that! You are who you are for a reason. This path was chosen for you. Authority is not given you, Elentirmo, to renounce your lineage and destiny. We all have a part to play in this. Even I am bound. None of us are free. And I have not kept watch over and guarded your family for generations for it all to come to naught! The prophecy must come to pass!"
Shaken by the seer's sudden and startling change of demeanor, Elentirmo hastily apologized. After a few minutes the seer's ancient face softened a little; some regret entering it. "I forgive you my lord. You are frightened, as you have a right to be. I understand that. But what you must understand is that I am frightened also; no less than you, perhaps more. I cannot see all-no one is granted that-only glimpses, fragments. But that which I have seen has told me beyond a doubt that the prophecy needs to come to pass. The feud between the kindreds that the faithless one instigated cannot be allowed to go on. It must be healed-or it will destroy the realm, and the people. Do you understand?"
Elentirmo nodded solemnly. "I think I do. You mean to say to say I am the beginning of it all-and Amaurea. We set it into motion. Without us, the prophecy falls to ashes. Elestirne is the spark-the symbol of hope, renewal and rebirth-without her the prophecy will not, cannot happen or come to fulfillment."
Galion looked at him levelly-but said nothing.
The dark-haired elf faltered under that level gaze; unsure how to continue, nor how much more of an answer Galion wanted-for he had the feeling the seer wanted him to continue.
Fortunately though, he was saved in the end from responding-for Galion spoke. "You still have a part to play in the prophecy. Do not think that, by bringing into the world the one meant to fulfill the prophecy,your own part is over. It is not."
"What then," ventured Elentirmo cautiously; keenly wary about irritating the seer, "is your part old one? How are you bound within all this, to my family and the prophecy?"
Galion fixed Elentirmo with such a piercing gaze that the younger elf couldn't help but step back. "I am bound," Galion said at length. "No more than that need you know or be told. I was there when it began, and helped your ancestress-sister of the then-king-to escape the attack and so, I need to help bring the prophecy to fulfillment and end it. In other ways I am bound to your family but the reason I just gave should be sufficient for a question that should not have been asked to begin with."
Elentirmo flushed at the rebuke-refraining with an effort from asking what other ways the seer was connected with his family, how he had helped Elentirmo's ancestress, or why Galion felt he needed to help end what he had seen begun. This did not stop the tall elf from reeling inwardly with shock at having the seer's rough age confirmed. He must be ancient indeed… One question, however, did escape him before he could contain it. "Have you seen anything else about the attack? When it will come... how I will die?"
Galion looked at him askance; giving him a patronizing look. "Do you think that the passing of a night since my telling you of it means that I will see more of it? You ought to know that the foresight does not work that way by now my lord. And you also ought to know that a seer-being one yourself-seldom gives straight answers. A lesson for you if you have not learned it already: do not ask questions of seers unless you know what you ask and want to hear the response. Elsewise you may not like the answers."
Behind the two elves Duath snorted; the night-dark stallion nickering with laughter. Elentirmo cast the horse a look of mock sharpness and severity, then turned back to Galion. But the seer was not there.