“Not true,” Daelar corrected, his expression grim as he cast a meaningful glance at his sister. He said something then in the same language Dacyne had used earlier. She hissed something back at him. The two argued back and forth for a moment, and it dawned on Aellyn then that this must be their native language. The language of the elves. She was struck by the musicality of it. Even in their anger, the words the twins flung at each other flowed with the same grace that seemed inherent in their every movement. Aellyn resolved then to learn the language, if one of them would teach her. If not, she would wait and ask her father when she next saw him.
“Well?” Aellyn interrupted them, looking to Daelar, since he struck her as the more forthcoming of the two. Dacyne spoke, again in the elven tongue, the tone of her voice practically dripped with venom. Daelar’s reply was quiet, almost pleading. Dacyne huffed moodily and stormed from the room, her boots making angry thuds as she went down the stairs. Daelar sighed heavily and turned to Aellyn.
“It was elven magic that did this,” he explained, his voice strained. Aellyn’s thoughts came in a quick jumble, making her stammer for a moment.
“How can you tell?” she finally settled on the first of many questions. He hesitated for a moment, and it was clear he was trying to organize his thoughts before he spoke. His hand moved in small, quick circles at his side, and for a moment Aellyn thought he meant to cast another spell, until she realized suddenly that it was just a nervous tick, something he did when his own thoughts moved too quickly to put into words, and she almost laughed. Indeed, she would have, if the situation weren’t so serious, as she was very abruptly reminded when her eyes fell on the corpse of the halfling just beside him.
“There’s a… flavor, to magic,” he said finally, though it was clear he wasn’t entirely satisfied with the analogy.
“A flavor?”
“Mm,” he murmured. He hesitated again, looking at the ceiling as if he’d find the words he wanted scrawled there. He gave a frustrated sigh. “Every mage… their spells carry their own unique flavor, in the same way that you’d know one chef’s cooking from another, if you were familiar with it. And mages from different parts of the world or different cultures, their flavors are as unique to their magical heritage as dwarven cuisine would be distinct from that of humans.”
“Ah,” Aellyn said, in dawning understanding. “So, when you… examined the stone, and the body… it had the flavor of elven magic?”
“Yes,” he said with obvious relief. “The magic is… familiar to me.” His brow furrowed then. “I feel as though I should know the one who cast it, but I can’t quite…” He made a frustrated sound and shook his head as if to clear it. “Regardless, I can assure you, this halfling is no mage. She may have been the catalyst for the spell, but she played no part in its casting.”
“How would such a thing be possible?”
“Mages can imbue objects with magic easily enough,” Daelar explained. “The necklace you wear is an excellent example.”
“My necklace?” she asked, looking down. The silver charm she wore was still tucked carefully beneath her tunic. Her gaze returned to his, and she wondered how he could possibly have known it was there. Her confusion must have been clear. Stepping in close, he reached out and tapped her gently in the center of her chest with a long, slender finger, right where the charm lay beneath her shirt.
“I saw a light, right here, while I was using my Othersight,” he explained. “I assumed it was a necklace of some kind.” He tipped his head to one side curiously as he peered down at her.
“It is,” she whispered softly. “It was a gift from my father. I… I didn’t know it was magic,” she admitted. “What does it do?”
“I’d have to see it,” Daelar said quietly. Aellyn made a small noise and reached up to feel for the chain around her neck. She gave it a gentle tug, pulling the charm free.
His hand came up to capture the dangling crescent moon charm, and he whispered quietly, “Tirne nai Hiswielo.” She stared up at him, captivated, as she watched the irises of his eyes swim once more, their blue depths churning like the waves of a storm-tossed sea. Up close, the effect was mesmerizing, and she thought she might drown in the dark vastness of his eyes. He blinked, slowly, as he gazed down at the charm, his head tipping curiously to the other side as he ran his thumb across the delicately engraved surface. His eyes narrowed as he turned it slowly in his fingers, studying it, his expression thoughtful. “Hiswielo auta,” he whispered softly, and it seemed the churning seas captured in his eyes drained away, restoring his eyes to their normal blue, and he released the charm, letting it fall gently back to her chest. “It’s a beautiful piece,” he said at last.
“What,” she began, but found her voice suddenly hoarse. She swallowed hard and tried again. “What does it do?” she asked. A slow smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
“Many things,” he said. “It’s a powerful talisman. For one thing, I can tell you that your grandfather was the one to imbue it.”
“He was?” Aellyn asked, awestruck.
“Yes, your grandfather’s magic is almost as familiar to me as my own. He taught me much of what I know,” his words carried a hint of amusement. “If you hold the talisman and speak a word of power, you can activate its magic,” he explained. Aellyn’s expression turned anxious, and his smile faded.
“It won’t… It won’t hurt me, will it? Like that stone did to her?” she nodded in the direction of where the dead halfling still sat, and suddenly Daelar understood the shift in her mood.
“No,” he said softly, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “It’s… different. This talisman’s magic is… think of it as self-contained. The stone was something else.” He seemed to sink into his own thoughts again, and Aellyn put a hand on his chest to stop him.
“I trust you,” she said quietly, tipping her head forward slightly to capture his gaze again. He nodded. “You said it does many things?”
“Ah, yes,” he smiled then. “Hold the talisman, clear your mind, and say the words ‘Tirne nai haranilme’,” he instructed her.
“Tirne nai haranilme?” she asked, testing her pronunciation. He gave her an encouraging smile and nodded. She lifted the charm and closed her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she tried to clear the thoughts from her mind. It was harder to do than she imagined it would be, but after a brief moment, she felt ready. She opened her eyes again and whispered, “tirne nai haranilme.”
Suddenly the small, dimly lit room around her vanished in a dense, dark fog. The fog swirled and then seemed to melt away, revealing her uncle’s office, where he sat at his desk flipping through his ledgers and making neat notations in the margins, the glasses he only wore while he worked perched halfway down the bridge of his nose. He hummed quietly to himself as he worked, a simple tune her mother used to sing to her when she was a child. It made her smile. After a moment, the fog gathered again and seemed to engulf her. She started suddenly, her eyes flying open and she gasped as if she’d been under water and was just coming up for air. She felt something hard beneath her and a warm presence at her side. She looked up then to find Daelar there, and she realized she was on the floor and he was crouched beside her, cradling her gently against his chest.
“Apologies,” he said quietly as he helped her slowly to her feet. “I should have warned you. The magic can take hold rather suddenly. It can knock you right from your feet, if you’re not accustomed to it.”
“Thank you for catching me,” Aellyn replied, a bit embarrassed.
“What did you see?” he asked, watching her closely.
“My uncle, Aldun, in his study,” she said, regaining her composure.
“Interesting,” he murmured. She looked up at him curiously. “‘Tirne nai haranilme’ means ‘show me home’ in the elven tongue,” he explained. “I would’ve expected you to see your mother.” Aellyn considered that for a moment, but couldn’t begin to guess what it might mean, if anything.
“Would the necklace show me anything I want to see?” she asked after a moment.
“It has its limits. The more familiar you are with the thing you wish to see, the better.” She nodded, digesting that.
“Can it do anything else?”
“Is that not wondrous enough?” he laughed, a soft, throaty chuckle that sent an unexpected shiver up her spine. She blushed. “Hold the talisman and clear your mind as you did before, then say the words ‘Nai yulma ar mitya.” After a moment, she nodded and did as he bid.
She expected the fog to come swirling in again, but it didn’t this time. The room around her remained unchanged, and for a moment she wondered if perhaps she’d done something wrong, maybe mispronounced something.
“Well?” he asked, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. Only that wasn’t what he’d said. The word he’d actually uttered was ‘manë’, but a tingling sensation in the back of her mind seemed to whisper understanding. “Don’t tell my sister about this trick. She’d be furious if she found out you could understand us if you chose.” Again, the words he actually spoke were different from those that drifted through her mind.
“Yando nai hecarë lle tuluva seldo?” she asked, feeling a bit hurt. The words felt strange in her mouth, and she wasn’t sure where they came from.
“She doesn’t dislike you,” he assured her, and again what she heard and what she understood were at odds. Distracted, and a bit lost in her own thoughts, she let the charm fall back to her chest. “Lle lúmë nai ilyë.” She blinked up at him in confusion, and he laughed. “The talisman was translating for you,” he explained.
“That was elvish?” she asked.
“Our dialect of it, yes.”
“Could you… teach me?”
“You wish to learn our language?” he looked surprised.
“If it’s bothersome, I can just wait and ask my father,” she hedged, feeling suddenly awkward. His expression turned sympathetic.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “It should not have surprised me that you would wish to learn. Of course, I’d be happy to teach you.”
“Thank you,” she smiled up at him gratefully. “Can—”
“What’s taking so long?” Conrad’s voice from the doorway interrupted her. She spun to face him, taking a quick, anxious step away from Daelar, feeling inexplicably as if she’d been caught in the middle of some illicit tryst.
“Apologies,” Daelar said, his tone suddenly businesslike. “Aellyn had some questions, which turned into an impromptu lesson in magic.” Conrad raised a brow at this and pinned the elf with a cold stare, his expression was unreadable. “Find anything downstairs?” Daelar asked, unperturbed.
“Nothing,” Conrad replied coldly. “The place is empty.” Turning to Aellyn, he said, “Dacyne is waiting for us out front.” And he turned then, disappearing back down the stairs.
Aellyn released a long breath then that she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. She felt a reassuring hand at her back, and turned to find Daelar at her side. “We can continue this another time. We’d best go,” he said, giving her a gentle nudge. She nodded and headed for the stairs, but stopped suddenly when she reached the landing.
“What about…”
“We’ll leave her for now,” Daelar replied gently. “The Magistrate may wish to perform his own inspection.” She nodded slowly, and they made their way down the stairs to join their companions outside.
“I hope you’re not planning to share your little insights with with anyone else,” Dacyne said acidly when Aellyn and Daelar stepped outside.
“Lissë,” he said with a heavy sigh. “Autuva lle hantale nai” Aellyn casually fingered the charm at her throat and muttered under her breath.
“Why should I?” Dacyne demanded hotly. “For all we know, she could be involved in all of it, and she’s just giving us the run around.” The twins spoke now in their native tongue, but thanks to her necklace and Daelar’s instruction, she was able to follow their conversation with ease.
“She’s Lord Ilbryen’s daughter,” Daelar replied matter-of-factly. “And what reason could she possibly have for this sort of mischief? Not to mention the fact that she knows next to nothing of magic. She couldn’t have done this if she’d wanted to. Stop this nonsense.”
“Isn’t that sweet,” Dacyne’s voice dripped with mockery. “Coming to her defense. You don’t honestly think Ilbryen will honor—”
“Don’t,” Daelar interrupted sharply, the word carrying a warning.
“—the promise he made all those years ago, before he even knew he had a child, and had no intention of ever having a child. Do you?” she continued, mocking him openly now.
“Stop,” Daelar pleaded, his expression pained.
“Do you think she’d agree, if she knew?” Dacyne smirked at him.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you—”
“Who knows? Maybe she would marry you,” Dacyne laughed.
“—but that’s enough,” Daelar favored his twin with a cold glare. “She’s been nothing but kind to us, and if that’s not enough for you, it’s Lord Ilbryen’s command that we assist her in whatever ways we are able. She has taken up his quest, and we’re to help her just as we would him.” He folded his arms across his chest. “If you cannot or will not do that, then either return to him or return home.”
“You would dismiss me?” she asked, visibly taken aback.
“If this task were easier for your absence, yes,” he confirmed without hesitation. She looked offended, and suddenly very unsure of herself.
“Are you two about finished?” Conrad asked, eyeing them with irritation.
“I think we should report our findings to Magistrate Hale and then try to find somewhere to rest for a bit,” Aellyn said suddenly. “It’s been a long night and it seems that tempers are starting to fray.”
“An excellent suggestion,” Daelar agreed, moving to unhitch his mount. Dacyne barked a laugh, earning a icy glare from her brother, but she followed suit. Aellyn sighed wearily and climbed into the saddle. Once they were all mounted, they headed off in the direction of the town square in silence to look for the Magistrate.
A while later, their meeting with the Magistrate concluded, the four of them sat gathered around a small campfire in an open field on the edge of town, a small tent at their backs and their horses hobbled nearby. A large skillet of eggs and sausage, provided by the Magistrate, sat sizzling over the fire. The field was filled with a patchwork of makeshift shelters like theirs, with tired townsfolk gathered around little cookfires, chatting quietly while others lie sleeping in their tents, getting what rest they could between cleaning and recovery shifts.
Conrad took a long pull off the wineskin the Magistrate had given them, then held it out to Aellyn next to him, who took it gratefully. “So what’s next?” he asked quietly while she drank. After a long swallow, Aellyn held the skin out to Daelar, who sat on her other side. He took it with murmured thanks.
“We wait, I suppose,” Aellyn said, turning back to Conrad. He regarded her quietly for a moment, his expression unreadable. “What is it?” she whispered.
“Nothing,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. “Just tired, I guess.”
“Get some sleep?” she asked softly. “You didn’t sleep at all last night, did you?” He shook his head. “I’ll be in after I’ve had a bit of breakfast,” she assured him.
“Alright,” he replied, his voice like gravel. With a groan, he clambered off into the tent.
When she looked up, she realized that Dacyne had already gone off to bed while she’d been talking to Conrad, leaving her alone with Daelar. Without looking at her, he passed the wineskin back to her. Before she could thank him, he said, “how much of our argument did you catch?”
“Earlier? At the shop?” she asked, startled.
“Yes.” He didn’t look at her. Instead, he took up a fork and moved their breakfast around in the pan.
“All of it,” she admitted reluctantly. She glanced over at him then, feeling sheepish. She expected a scolding, but instead he seemed… embarrassed. It surprised her. “What promise did my father make to you?” she asked finally. To her amazement, he winced, and color rose in faintly his cheeks.
“I fervently wish you hadn’t heard that,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what’s gotten into my sister today, but she should never have been so rude, and she really should never have brought that up, whether you could understand her or not.”
“She was obviously trying to needle you,” Aellyn observed.
“It worked,” he huffed.
“They say siblings have a unique ability to annoy one another. I can only assume it’s even worse with twins.” He peered over at her then, out of the corner of his eye. He sighed and returned his gaze to the fire.
“My sister and I rarely argue,” he said quietly. “So rarely, in fact, I can’t even recall the last time. And certainly never like this.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. He turned his head to look at her then, meeting her eye.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said earnestly. “If anything, you’re the one owed an apology.”
“What did my father promise you?” she asked again, now that she had his full attention. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open, then his expression quickly morphed into consternation as he realized he’d been had. Aellyn favored him with a small, playful grin. He turned back to the fire, though he chuckled softly despite himself.
“Years ago,” he began, then paused thoughtfully for a moment. “Probably thirty or more, I’m not sure. Your father and I were traveling a narrow track through the Alarior Gap in northern Klojavar, a particularly dangerous passage under the best of circumstances, but on this occasion we’d been caught in a sudden storm that blew in from the south. In the midst of the worst of it, we were separated. I managed to take shelter in a small outcropping until it passed, but when the weather cleared, I saw no sign of your father.” He paused then to pull their breakfast away from the fire. He set it aside, then picked up one of the plates and a fork they’d set aside earlier. He piled a helping of eggs and sausage onto the plate and passed it to her. He fixed himself a plate, and they both tucked in.
They ate in silence for a short while, until Daelar set his plate aside, still half full, and he continued his story while Aellyn finished her portion. “It took me three days to find him. I am not exactly known for my woodcraft,” he admitted with a wry grin. “When I finally found him, he was hurt. Badly. He’d either fallen or been tossed from a cliff in the storm, and I found him at the bottom of a ravine, utterly senseless.”
“You were able to heal him?” Aellyn asked through a mouthful of eggs. He smiled at that and went on with a more sober expression and a far-off look in his eyes.
“No,” he confessed. “I was not a priest then and knew nothing of the healing arts. I did the best I could for him. I was able to find us some shelter, and I managed to find food, more through luck than skill, I think. It took weeks to nurse him back to the point where he was well enough to travel without further endangering himself.” He stared into the fire as he spoke, and it seemed to Aellyn as if he was looking back through time itself to that distant mountain. “He’d gotten an infection while he was recovering, and there were times when I feared I would not be able to pull him back from death’s grasp. Out of options, I prayed. I prayed to Taena to guard him from her sister. Finally, the next morning, his fever broke and the illness seemed to have left him. He slept for three straight days after that, and when he awoke, he called out to me. I could see that his eyes were finally clear, and relief like I have never felt before flooded me.” He paused for a moment, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. “When I drew near, he said, ‘I owe you a great debt. One I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to repay.’ Of course, I told him he didn’t owe me a thing. He would’ve done the same, or more, for me, I was sure.”
“So he promised you… me? To repay you for saving his life?” she asked, somewhat incredulous.
“He promised me his blessing,” Daelar was quick to correct, pinning her with an intense stare. “If I should ever wish to seek his daughter’s hand. If indeed he ever had a daughter.”
“Little did he know, he already had one,” she replied mildly.
“I thought he was joking, or mad, and merely thanked him. He went back to sleep then and said not another word about it. Until, that is, we returned to Nemathyr, some months later, where he proceeded to recount the story to your grandparents, and anyone else who would listen,” he sighed. “That was how my sister caught wind of the whole thing.”
“I see,” Aellyn said quietly. “So I shouldn’t be expecting a ring then?” she asked. He stared at her, looking scandalized. “I’m sorry,” she laughed. “I couldn’t resist.”
“You know, it’s unwise to trifle with mages,” he said with mock severity.
“Good thing you’re a priest now,” she smiled sweetly, drawing a low chuckle from him. “Now that you’re in a better mood… is there anything else my necklace can do?” He raised a brow at her.
“What? Viewing far off places and understanding any language you choose isn’t enough?”
“Well, you said it was capable of many things,” she said, somewhat sheepishly. “Two isn’t many.” It was his turn to laugh.
“What would a priest know of such things?” he grinned at her. She had the sudden urge to hit him with something. It must have shown on her face, because he laughed again. “Its other properties aren’t quite as flashy, to be honest,” he admitted. “Though no less powerful. For one, it carries a powerful protective enchantment. You should continue to wear it, always.”
“I never take it off,” she assured him.
“Never?” he raised a brow at her again. She did hit him then, though there wasn’t much force behind it. He laughed again.
“You know, before today, I wasn’t sure you even knew how to smile, let alone laugh,” she said after a moment.
“I know how,” he assured her. “I just don’t often have cause.”
“That’s… sad,” she said quietly.
“Mm, perhaps,” he murmured. He muttered something under his breath that she didn’t quite catch, then sighed and said, “I’m going to try to get some sleep. You should, too.” He turned and made his way into the tent with the others. Aellyn watched him go, but said nothing. She turned back to the fire, intending to clean up the dishes, just to have something with which to distract herself for a few minutes, but when she scooted over to where Daelar had been sitting, she found the dishes were already clean and neatly stacked. She huffed a small laugh, shaking her head.
She settled herself more comfortably then, and stared into the fire, thinking. It was hard to believe that so much had happened in a single day. Her body felt heavy with exhaustion, but her mind was too active to allow her to rest. Suddenly, she found herself with much more than just her father’s quest to consider, and she wasn’t sure what to do about any of it. She didn’t have to face any of it alone, though, and that thought gave her more comfort than she would have imagined.
With a sigh, she swiveled and stretched out on the grass. She rolled onto her back and stared up into the bright morning sky, tucking her hands behind her head as a makeshift pillow. Before she knew it, her thoughts became hazy and disjointed, her eyelids growing too heavy to hold open, and she drifted off into sleep.
Aellyn awoke to a gentle nudge against her shoulder. When she opened her eyes, the sky above was dark and studded with stars, and she found Conrad crouched beside her. He still looked tired. She reached up to touch his cheek, but he grasped her hand and pulled her up into a seated position, deliberately mistaking her intention. She pulled her legs in then, crossing them and settling herself more comfortably as she looked at him curiously.
“What’s wrong?” she asked quietly. She put a hand on his knee. “Something is bothering you. Talk to me,” she pleaded.
“I’m jealous,” he admitted in a low growl. From his expression, Aellyn could see plainly that the admission was difficult for him. He wouldn’t even meet her eye. She was grateful for his honesty, and touched by his willingness to be open with her, though his implication stung. “Tell me I have no reason to be.”
“I would never betray your trust,” she assured him.
“I know that,” he whispered. His expression turned sorrowful. “I’ve known you all my life, Aellyn. I know you would never wish to hurt me.”
“Of course not! I—”
“But these are your people,” he interrupted her. “The missing half of you that you’re only just beginning to know.”
“But—” she sputtered.
“Of course your feelings must be confusing, I understand that. You’re trying to see how these new pieces of your life fit with the old.” His low voice was deceptively calm, but she could see the turmoil he felt in his eyes, and it broke her heart to know that she was the cause. “I’m not saying I’ll always be gracious about it, but I am saying that I understand.” He met her eyes then, and along with the pain, she could see his resolve. “You shouldn’t be made to feel guilty for feeling the way you do. I know you love me,” he acknowledged.
“I do love you,” she agreed tearfully, though the words came out as a desperate croak, and she swallowed hard in an attempt to dislodge the lump that stuck in her throat.
“And I’ll always love you,” he assured her. He reached up then to gently brush a tear from her cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he murmured. “I just… didn’t want this to fester.” He cradled her cheek in his hand, and his tenderness was her undoing. She gave a quiet sob, and in an instant, he’d gathered her into his arms, whispering quiet reassurances to her.
“Oh,” the sound of Daelar’s voice startled them both, shattering the moment. They looked up to find him frozen in the doorway of the tent, an embarrassed look on his face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said as Aellyn hastily wiped the tears from her face. Before she could think of something to say, Conrad climbed quickly to his feet.
“Your sister went back into town to see if anyone from Andrinport has arrived yet,” Conrad told him. “I’ll go check on her,” he announced. He cast a meaningful glance at Aellyn, then strode to his stallion, mounted up, and trotted off in the direction of the town square without another word. Aellyn could only watch him go, feeling heartsick.
“I didn’t—” Daelar began, but Aellyn waved dismissively.
“I know,” she said, sniffling. Taking a deep breath, she composed herself and looked up at him. “How much did you hear?”
“I didn’t—”
“I have better hearing than most,” she interrupted him, pinning him with a knowing look. “And I’m only a half-elf. While I appreciate your attempt at discretion, I’m not stupid. How much did you hear?” With a resigned sigh, he finally came out of the tent and sat beside her.
“All of it,” he confirmed, seeming miserable. He squirmed uncomfortably, and it became clear to Aellyn then that he wasn’t any better at this than she was. The thought made her laugh despite herself, drawing a surprised look from him.
“How old are you?” she asked suddenly. From the look he gave her then, it was clear this was the last thing he’d expected her to ask.
“342,” he said.
“A 300-year advantage, and you’re no better at dealing with people than I am,” she teased him. That drew a reluctant grin from him, but it was short lived. She sighed. “As if we don’t already have enough problems,” she muttered.
“Agreed.”
They sat in silence then, each staring up at the stars, each lost in their own thoughts. Aellyn was grieved by the turn the night had taken. She regretted the sudden rift she felt between growing between her and Conrad, but wasn’t sure if there was anything she could do to change it.
“You didn’t tell him he had no cause for jealousy,” Daelar’s soft words interrupted the flow of her thoughts.
“What?” she asked, startled. She turned her gaze from the stars then, and found him watching her intently. His face was a mask of placidity, but she could sense a storm gathering in his eyes as he regarded her.
“He asked you to tell him he had no reason to be jealous,” he said again. His voice was low, but it carried an intensity that made Aellyn’s stomach flip. “But you didn’t.”
“No,” she conceded. “I didn’t.” She saw something unreadable pass over his face then like a wave over sand, fleeting and mysterious. “Water,” she said suddenly. He blinked in surprise.
“You’re thirsty?” he asked. Brows furrowing, he turned to search for a pitcher or something for her, but her hand on his shoulder brought him back around.
“No,” she said. “You. You always remind me of… water.” He blinked again.
“What?”
“It was your eyes,” she explained. “At first, I think it was your eyes. But, the more I think about you… your movements, your expressions… you make me think of water.” His lips pursed slightly as he digested that, and he tipped his head thoughtfully. He straightened then, adjusting his seat so that he faced her squarely, then he held up a hand between them, palm upturned.
Confused, she looked down at his hand, and stared in amazement as she watched a small droplet of water form in the air above his palm. As she watched, the droplet seemed to swell, growing slowly until it was the size of a grape, and then an apple. As it grew, she saw gentle waves ripple along its surface.
“This was one of the first tricks I learned as a child,” he explained. His gaze was serene as he watched the ripples pass over the tiny globe of water he held, and a fond smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, transfixed. As she watched, the globe shifted, and a tiny stream began to flow out of it, curling into the air in precise, delicate swirls. The water continued to flow, curving into ever more arcs before her, until the globe had completely drained into lines of water that she realized now had formed the seal of the Mistwind family. Realizing what he’d done, she laughed delightedly. “Daelar, that’s incredible!” she exclaimed. Ripples passed over the surface of the lines of water as it continued to flow in tiny rivers through the image he’d made. As she stared at the figure in awe, she saw mist forming from the tiny streams that was carried away on the night breeze, until the streams grew smaller and finally the image dissipated.
“Water was the first element I ever learned to manipulate,” he explained. “And it has always been the one with which I am most comfortable.” He let his hand fall to his lap as he watched her.
“Did it always come so easily to you?” she asked. “Magic, I mean.” He thought for a moment.
“I think all elves carry within them some inherent competence with magic,” he said.
“What about… half-elves?” she asked, though she was almost afraid to know the answer. But he smiled, and she felt immediately reassured.
“You come from a very long line of extremely powerful mages, Aellyn,” he assured her. “I would be astonished if you did not possess at least some small fraction of that talent.” She blinked up at him, her bright green eyes wide and gleaming in the starlight. “Is there a particular element you feel naturally drawn to?” he asked, watching her closely.
“I’ve never really thought about it,” she admitted.
“When I asked you that, what was the very first thing that sprang into your mind?”
“Water,” she said quickly. “But I think that was just from watching you.”
“Well,” he said slowly, a grin creeping across his lips. “Let us test that theory.” She nodded then, and turned her own body so that she could face him properly. He reached out, capturing her wrist and pulling her hand forward. The gesture reminded her suddenly of when he’d grabbed her wrist in the alchemist’s shop, only this time his touch was gentle, his slender fingers manipulating her hand almost tenderly as he turned her palm upwards, mimicking his own earlier motions. He cradled her hand lightly in his own, the cool touch of his fingers on the back of her hand sending a shiver up her arm. “Now, clear you mind, just as you would if you about to use your talisman,” he instructed her.
She nodded eagerly, then closed her eyes. She took a couple deep breaths to steady herself, then she let all the thoughts that had been buzzing around in her mind all night simply drift away. She stayed like that for a moment, an odd sense of detachment creeping over her. She opened her eyes.
“Visualize a tiny droplet of water appearing in your hand, just as you watched me do,” he said quietly, not wanting to disturb her thoughts. Before he could offer any other instruction, she gave a tiny yelp of surprise, and he looked down to see, there in the air above their upturned hands, a tiny droplet of water wobbling hesitantly, its surface a rippling fiercely.
“I did it,” she breathed. Her eyes, wide with disbelief, were fixed on the little droplet that remained suspended before them. Her eyes shot to his then, “Right? That’s not you, is it?”
“It’s not me,” he assured her quietly.
“That was… easy. It’s not supposed to be that easy, is it?” she asked doubtfully. The little droplet fizzled away, and she looked up at him uncertainly.
“Perhaps for you,” he replied. “It is supposed to be easy.” He reached up then with his other hand and tucked a long strand of jet black hair that had come loose from her braid back behind her ear, his fingertips brushing lightly against its pointed tip, sending a tremor through her. As he withdrew his hand, she reached up and captured it in her own. Staring up into the deep blue of his eyes, she suddenly wished the rest of the world would fall away and leave them in peace in some secluded forest glade, where they could spend the night alone together, talking and…
The edges of her vision grew dim, as if a dense fog had suddenly rolled in, insulating them from the world. Her senses swam, and she felt almost as if she were drowning. She heard a voice calling out to her, but it echoed distantly. A wave of dizziness hit her then, and she felt herself pulled off balance, pitching forward. She cried out, but before she could right herself, darkness claimed her and everything went black.
Some time later, awareness returned. Aellyn felt the world returning sluggishly, her senses awakening one at a time. She could smell something woodsy beneath her nose that carried with it a faint hint of spice. It was familiar to her, but she couldn’t quite remember why. She could hear the chirping of crickets around her, and she found that reassuring. A cool breeze stirred the hair that fell across her forehead, and she felt something firm and warm beneath her cheek. Slowly, she opened her eyes and sat up, looking around.
“Welcome back,” came a deep, sardonic voice from right behind her ear. Startled, she turned to find Daelar sitting close beside her. He reclined casually against the trunk of a large oak tree, one leg drawn up and his arm draped carelessly across his raised knee. His other arm, she realized, was wrapped lightly around her shoulders.
“What happened?” she demanded, still feeling a bit queasy and out of sorts.
“Well,” he drawled, “it seems you wished to be alone, and so we are.”
“What?” she hissed.
“You transported us… somewhere,” his eyes scanned the small clearing in which they sat before returning to hers. “No mean feat for even a well-trained mage. It would seem you do possess an aptitude for magic.”
“You seem awfully unbothered by this,” she accused.
“I am,” he agreed readily. “I mean, certainly, it was a bit abrupt, but we’re in no danger here, and in time, I believe the spell you cast will return us to Baredenn.” She could only stare at him dumbly. “If I’m being honest, I’m actually quite impressed. And a bit flattered.” A little smile teased at the corners of his mouth as he watched her, his eyes slightly hooded and his demeanor completely unconcerned.
“Flattered?” she asked.
“You didn’t cast the spell consciously, did you?”
“No.”
“I thought not,” he said.
“What does that have to do with anything?” she wondered.
“Well, I certainly didn’t bring us here,” he laughed. “Though, a part of me wishes I could be so brazen.” He looked around again, casually admiring the scenery.
“I don’t understand,” she confessed, feeling a bit dense.
“You brought us here, Aellyn,” he explained patiently, his attention returning to her. “Without meaning to.” When she still stared blankly back at him, he went on. “You felt a strong subconscious desire to be alone with me, strong enough to gather the power required to transport us here.” Realization began to dawn, and with it, flashes of the moments right before everything went dark began to play through her mind. Him, holding her hand gently in his, tucking her hair back behind her ear. Her, taking his hand in hers, and staring deeply into his eyes. She remembered the moment when she’d thought she wanted to be alone with him in… a secluded forest glade… she gasped.
“I brought us here,” she breathed, scarcely able to believe it.
“You did,” he agreed mildly.
“How?”
“Magic.” His lips twitched.
“You don’t say,” she replied dryly. He shrugged.
“You understand the basics of it,” he said. “It wasn’t my spell. I can’t really provide much more detail. You’d know the answer better than I would.” She looked up at him uncertainly. “Perhaps the better question is… why?” He watched her closely. “Why did you bring us here, Aellyn?” Suddenly self-conscious, she wasn’t sure how to answer that. She looked down at her hands, folded in her lap and waited, hoping he might change the subject.
After a quiet moment, she heard him whisper, “Cuina lúmë,” almost under his breath. She glanced up, but was surprised to find him looking up at the thick boughs of the canopy above them instead of her. She followed his gaze upward, and saw soft twinkling lights blinking among the leaves. At first she thought it was only a couple of passing lightning bugs, but when the lights didn’t move, and began to multiply until they bathed the space under the tree where they sat in a dim golden glow, she realized he’d cast a spell. She watched the lights as they seemed to dance in the breeze that gently lifted the wide green leaves and she felt overcome with a sense of wonder. When she glanced back to him, she found him watching her with a quiet intensity that took her breath away. Without thinking, she reached up and took his face in her hands. She leaned forward and, closing her eyes, she pressed her lips to his.
His casual demeanor fled instantly. His hands went to her waist, where he grasped her firmly and lifted her to straddle him, seating her gently in his lap so he could hold her closer. He wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her tight to him, while his other hand threaded into the dark mass of her hair, cradling her neck as his mouth captured hers in a slow, sensual possession. She wound her arms around his neck, hugging him to her as he slid his tongue against hers in a leisurely seduction, drawing a soft sigh of pleasure from her.
“Aellyn,” he whispered, drawing back from her. She watched him in a daze, confused. “Are you sure this is what you want?” She might have been offended, but she could see the concern in his eyes.
“You think this is unwise,” she guessed, emerging slowly from the haze of lust to which he’d brought her. He gave a slight shrug.
“It’s not that,” he said carefully. “I’ve felt a… connection… between us, but you already have a man you love, who loves you. Do you truly wish to toss that aside?” She sat back then, considering his words.
“I know,” she reassured him. With a frustrated huff, she stood and turned to pace the small clearing. “You’re not wrong,” she admitted. “I don’t know how to feel, and dragging you into the middle of it is probably a stupid way to find out.” She ran a frustrated hand through her hair, pulling more free from the loose braid at her back in the process.
“I apologize for getting a bit carried away.”
“At least you came to your senses,” she grumbled.
“I wouldn’t go that far,” he gave a delicate cough that brought her around to face him once more. She watched him closely. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his expression carrying a hint of guilt that he tried to disguise by smoothing his tousled hair back from his face. When he finally looked at her, his expression was a mask of propriety, but his eyes were stormy.
“So, how do we do this, then?” she asked.
“Do what?”
“Well, we still have work to do,” she explained. “We need to get back to Baredenn, and I have no idea how to do that.”
“Mm,” he gave an acknowledging nod. “Translocation was never my specialty, so we may have a bit of difficulty there.” He climbed to his feet, dusting off his robes. “First, I’ll need to figure out where we are.” He stepped further into the clearing then and gazed up at the night sky. She watched him curiously. He scrutinized the sky above for a moment, then gave a heavy sigh. “Wherever you’ve brought us, it’s a part of the world I’ve never been to before,” he murmured, half to himself, as his eyes continued to survey the stars. “None of these stars are familiar to me.”
She turned her attention to the sky then, though she wasn’t entirely sure why she bothered. Astronavigation was never something she’d shown any interest in before, a fact for which she now kicked herself. She was beginning to realize just how woefully unprepared she truly was for the task she’d been given, and was doubly grateful for the help her companions offered.
“So what do we do?” she asked again, feeling more than a little foolish.
“I can attempt to commune with Taena, and hope that she’ll offer some guidance,” he said thoughtfully, his gaze still turned skyward.
“And if that doesn’t work?”
He looked at her then, and his businesslike expression softened. “We’ll find our way back, Aellyn,” he assured her. The doubt she felt must have shown on her face, because he closed the distance between them then, drawing her gently into his embrace. He held her for a moment, cradling her into the crook of his neck as he tenderly stroked the hair back from her forehead. She closed her eyes and breathed in the warm, woodsy scent of him, savoring the comfort he offered.
“I’ve made quite a mess of things,” she said miserably.
“Nothing that can’t be fixed,” he reassured her.
She took a step back and looked up into his eyes. “How are you so calm about this?” she asked, somewhat incredulously.
“We’re in no immediate danger,” he explained in a reasonable tone. “And while we may not know where we are at present, it should be fairly straight forward to figure out.” When her dubious expression didn’t change, he went on, “Even if we don’t return to Baredenn via the same means that brought us here, we can always simply walk. Certainly, it may take time, but it’s by no means an insurmountable task.” When she still made no comment, he said finally, “it’s an inconvenience, nothing more.”
“We have no horses, and no supplies,” she grumbled.
“True, we have no horses,” he agreed. “But we’re surrounded by supplies,” he chuckled, gesturing at the forest around them. “But before we begin a long trek through the wilderness, why don’t you try bringing us back?”
“I don’t know how,” she croaked, feeling panic rise in her throat.
“You do,” he murmured placidly. “Try.”
He stood there watching her calmly, saying nothing more, merely waiting. She heaved a resigned sigh and closed her eyes. She found it difficult to clear her mind, the doubts and confusion swirling stubbornly and threatening to overwhelm her entirely. She took a few deep breaths, hoping they would calm the inner turmoil she felt, and reminded herself that she’d gotten them here, so she could probably get them back. Probably. Frustrated by her lack of mastery over her own thoughts, she took another deep breath, and suddenly, she felt a warm calmness spreading over her. It seemed to flow through her like the very blood flowing through her veins, easing her anxiety and washing away the uncertainty as it passed. It seemed to chase the buzzing thoughts from her head as the sunrise chases away the darkness of the night, and suddenly her mind was clear and focused.
She thought then of the campsite in Baredenn where they’d sat talking together only a short time ago. She pictured it clearly in her mind, and she imagined she felt a gentle tugging sensation then, as if a cord had been tied around her waist that some unseen hand was pulling. Her stomach lurched, and she felt as if she might be sick then. Her eyes flew open in alarm, and when she looked around, she found the familiar sights of the campsite in Baredenn surrounded her. Daelar stood before her, holding her hands gently in his, his eyes closed, and a soft golden glow limned his body. Gradually, the dim light faded and he opened his eyes. He regarded her silently, but his eyes held a twinkle of amusement.
“We’re back,” she said simply.
“So it would seem,” he agreed.
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