Tales of Eldelórne Page 2
There were so many more losses, many more sorrow filled days, as men filed away to war. Although, it was not their fault, Thendiel found little comfort among her husband’s people. When the gardens turned grey with the emptiness of the hibernal season, she decided to go back to her clan across the river.
Thendiel’s family home stood empty upon her return. She was shocked when she realized that, without a word, the song of their Lords had taken both her parents in her absence. Thendiel broke down and wept openly in this final assault to her heart. “Nooooooo, Marin’amin, den ú ídhron abelas! My Marin, I do not want this sorrow,” Thendiel cried. Even her tree home could not comfort her. She collapsed not ever wanting to wake again.
Thendiel slept until the winter storms were long gone and flower’s started to bloom. Having grieved nearly to death, she woke to a voice calling her at the edge of a dream. It was the in-between places where a mother can hear her unborn. Her belly felt heavy as she sat up. Misery turned to joy upon discovering she carried inside her a son. Her thirst and hunger were great as she stood up, and took her first steps in many months, to find food and water.
Thendiel solemnly took up her mother’s task of making healing remedies for her village. It was an attempt at feeling normal again in her life. The duties of the work eased her mind.
She was happily, waiting to deliver her beloved’s son. Being half-human, her unborn was larger than usual. She swelled visibly, and her quickening came early. There had never been a mixing elf and human that anyone knew of, so the neighbors watched and worried.
From a pain-filled labor was born, Marin and Thendiel’s son. She named him Roevash, after one of the stag princes of the wild hunt immortalized in her favorite ancient poetry. Her son had dark skin like his father, and big starlit blue eyes that gazed quietly up at his mother.
Pangs of loneliness crept in as she snuggled her tiny half-elven boy and wondered if his father would ever be allowed to return. For a long while, she held a hope that she would see his face again, but it was never meant to be.
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“Bring the light Roevash,” Thendiel directed her young son. He picked the lantern carefully off the table with his left hand, and brought it over to the hearth.
“Light the flame-like this…” Thendiel took a small stick and using the flame from the lantern brought a tiny fire to light the edges of the kindling in a fireplace. It smelled of oak leaves and sweet fruit woods that she had gathered that day along the beach.
“You must only use fallen wood, and things found off the ground in the hearth. Our friends would not appreciate us hacking them up to burn.”
“I understand,” Roe said as he stared sadly into the fire.
“What troubles you?” She reached over and hugged him.
“I got in a fight again,” he looked down at his hands that lay hidden in his lap. Thendiel sat in silence watching the fire, waiting for his confession.
“Some elflings killed a sapling to build a fire. I heard it cry as they pulled it down. I tried to stop them …”
“And you could not,” she finished his thought. “Not every bloodline has empathy for the trees as we do Roe. I feel sorry for those thoughtless elflings.” She shook her head in disgust, “Their elders have such a shallow connection to the true voices of nature, it spills out into their offspring. This is why the rules of our Eldars govern us. The offenders will be given a stern warning. I am sure of it.”
“But I wanted to hurt them,” he admitted.
“Those elflings will not learn from this. You would fuel their bias against us, and will only hurt yourself. Let me see it…” She waited for him to show her his injury. How she knew such things was a shocking mystery to Roe. He placed his smaller hand in hers. His pointer finger had grown purple and swollen as well as the top of his right hand.
“Did I break it?” he almost started to cry but caught himself and sniffed loudly.
“Nothing, a good night of healing sleep will not cure.” She bundled him up into her arms. They sat down on the large comfortable rocking chair so she could tell him a story.
Thendiel recited many familiar tales of brave and noble elves, and men, as her son pressed his small face into her long golden-red hair. It flowed across his shoulders like a warm protective blanket, and sometimes, as on this day, he fell asleep.
“Ah, sleepyhead,” Thendiel kissed her son gently on the forehead. She lay him close on the bed. With him secure in her arms they fell into a deep healing slumber.
Thendiel was aware of the bias concerning her son’s taller stature, darker hair, and complexion. She tried to encourage him to believe in his uniqueness as a gift and a strength. Thendiel was often disappointed with the villager's small-mindedness. She remembered how it felt to be excluded from games. As a young one, she watched from a distance as elflings ran laughing and playing through the woods. Her families living tree was a comfort to her in those days, and it is the same for her half-elven boy.
Roevash never understood why the other young ones in his village shied away or called him names. He learned how to scowl fiercely, giving them what they expected. He soon discovered he didn’t have to use physical force because young elves who threw insults, more often than not, had no strength to back them up.
He never asked about his human half because of the abuse he suffered for being different. He imagined in his elfling mind, his mother was set upon by some horror, and he didn’t want to be a reminder of that. So Roevash vowed, for the sake of his mother, to practice being the best elven son, that he could manage.
When Roe was old enough to help his mother with the herbal alchemy, his mother’s smile was his guiding light. She delighted in all of his accomplishments. She was the strength of his heart in a life of real conflict.
One day, as they were collecting herbs in the forest, Roe heard a strangely compelling music off in the distance.
“What is that mother?”
“We must go inside,” Thendiel hastily grabbed the basket. Taking her son by the hand, they ran for home.
“Keep us safe, beloved tree,” Thendiel prayed frantically, running her hands inside the doorway, and along the walls.
The tree home answered. The place shook and moaned as glass in the windows shattered, because walls moved and slammed shut. Thendiel and Roevash found themselves huddled against the hearth, in total darkness.
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The Glynnath song flowed out across the lands, proclaiming the death of the beautiful Queen Rhianna. The song compelled elvenkin to gather at their king’s side at the Autumwood palace. Like bees who have been out in the glades too long, throngs of elven folk swarmed toward the palace of their sovereign. The sorrow of this magnitude was felt at the very core. At the grand palace, King Ellinduil was found collapsed and grieving unto death. Unbeknownst to all, he was ‘heart bonded’ to his queen and would never find relief from the unending depths of his agony.
Not truly understanding the hopelessness of the king's torment, his son and daughter tried to reach out to him, to console his mind. They would lose their father, and all the grieving elves who had gathered in the palace if he could not be revived from this brokenness. They only managed to slow his decline, as the Eldar healers worked to find a cure. Elves who have heart bonded in love, come to share the same heartbeat in life. The death of one always results in the death of the other.
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“We can not go outside, lest the mournful wind takes you by the heart, my son,” Thendiel whispered to Roe as she carefully lit a lantern against the darkness.
“What is a mournful wind?” Roe was frightened by his mother’s words.
“Someone important… our queen has died. We cannot be caught up in this,” she tried to take a breath and relax herself. Her fear was more about herself being pure-blooded Edhellen. She was afraid she would be compelled to leave, as many others had, if she found herself getting drawn into the thrall of it.
“Why are some elves more influenced than others?” Roe was con
fused. He didn’t feel any compulsion to go anywhere.
“It probably has something to do with their level of, or lack of empathic talent…” she mumbled out loud as she picked up the basket she’d dumped on the floor in her panic. She took Roe to the kitchen to put away the herbs they’d gathered, and find something to eat. It was all she could think of to calm herself, from what had just happened.
Thendiel could not escape her reputation as a talented healer. Eventually, she was ordered to go to the Autumwood palace when all others had failed to help their king.
Sympathetic magic, divining, and the use of herbs and charms as medicines were all commonly accepted practices among elves. There were some things, dark things, that ordinary folk shied away from and feared. It was rumored, that Thendiel was instructed in such ancient forgotten arts.
It was long ago, when she was still an elfling, that a wizard had taken an interest in her. Some folks still remember the gathering were the blue-robed stranger showed up, and spoke to Thendiel, and her parents. She never admitted this, but she also never denied it. Her healing skills were welcome in the village, but neighbors held a bias in the back of their minds concerning Thendiel, and all the odd choices she made in her life.
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Roevash looked down at his hands, frowning as his nose started to sting. He wanted to be strong for his mother so she wouldn’t worry, but tears welled up in his eyes.
He watched her gather up her long cloak and a few select healing potions, readying herself for the journey north.
Thendiel absently put her hand over her heart to make sure her amulet was still around her neck as she kissed her son gently on his cheek. It was the first time they would be apart since his birth, but she had to answer a summons sent directly from the king’s magistrate. She knelt and hugged his small frame one last time.
“Stay safe, and no fighting,” she said firmly as an afterthought. “I am not expecting to be gone long... only long enough to help the king in his suffering. I will be return before you know it,” she warmly smiled, trying to reassure him.
Roevash attempted to smile but there was nothing to do about it. He could not help his feelings of loss as he watched his mother walk the stone path that led her away from their home.
The King’s Heart
Chapter Two
King Ellinduil’s palace was woven deep among the trees. It was kept hidden from both elves and humankind for reasons only the king himself knew. He came to this forested place from a clan that loved the oceans and stars. He gathered the power of starlight to protect his woodland kingdom. With the king in his failing state, his magics were slowly seeping away, leaving his lands and the elvenkin who lived there, unprotected.
Thendiel could see enchantments radiating, like bright fog, throughout the forest. Mist drifted away from her as Thendiel walked forward into it. Three tiny creatures, liken to wild hares, skittered in the shadows of the underbrush unnoticed. They seemed to be following along. Thendiel’s eyes were on the king’s guard. Their gilded armor could be seen patrolling throughout the trees where previously they would have been kept invisible to outsiders.
Two of the guard saw her, and solemnly ushered her to a hidden opening through the trees. As Thendiel entered the main gate, the forest opened up to an expansive stone bridge that looked as though it was more for presentation than practical use. The structure was set into a field with no river to be found. It was wide enough for two carriages abreast or a large garrison of horses. It spanned the last thirty yards to the entryway.
Thendiel had never seen handcrafting such as this before. She noticed intricate vine patterns carved on the sides, as she ran her hand along the length of it. Ornate and beautifully kept, the bridge looked as though it were hewn from a single piece of ivory quartz. The purpose of the construct came clear as it directed her forward, in plain sight, towards the tall, pale green doors that would bring her into the palace. The gatekeepers politely welcomed Thendiel and escorted her directly to the king.
Thendiel was terrified as she entered the king’s bedroom chamber. She was suddenly surrounded by his council of closest advisers, and family. They had gathered to watch. Thendiel took a deep breath, and focused on the one who lay death-like on the pillows. All eyes riveted on her as she drew near. She saw a vision of a heart as it drifted away through the veil of the king’s fading life.
“The queen has met with a true death,”she said at the sight of it. Some of the officials gasped, indignant at her brash announcement. They already knew her death was the reason for his affliction. “The king and queen are heart-bound, she quickly added, changing the tone in the room.
With a determined look in her eyes Thendiel gently began to sing a simple magic. She was determined to remind the king of the life he still had with his son and daughter. Filled with grief and fear everyone moved in closer, and knelt down to hum gentle harmonies. They held renewed hope that Thendiel would be able to reach his dying ears.
The king’s unmoving face continued to drain of life. Thendiel knew she had to hold on to him before he was too far gone. She sat down next to her king. Taking up his hand she wove their fingers into a firm grip. Closing her eyes, her mind filled with words she had learned as an elfling. It was a power older than time itself that she dared bring into existence. The air moved in thick around her, surrounding them with bright light, as the strains of her voice increased. In the moments that followed the room chilled as a death-like hush fell over the crowd. Everyone was frozen in place as the spell burst, and shimmered out like an exploding golden bubble. Thendiel heard the distinct muffled pop as the air jelled, signaling she had entered the spirit realm.
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Outside the king’s chamber doors, the sound of hopeful prayer, sung by tens of thousands of Glynnath voices continued to rise up throughout the whole palace. It flooded out into the land.
Elves, gathered in solemn vigil, filled the palace throne room and beyond with candlelights and tears.
Roevash sat on his bed next to his open window looking out over the treetops. A slight breeze carried the sound of the music up out of the forest.
The day was ending, and the coolness of the evening made his cheeks turn a ruddy color that matched his swollen red eyes.
Roe rubbed his tired face with his small hand.
Feeling a weary heaviness in his head, he set his chin down on his folded arms and lay halfway out on the windowsill listening to the strains of the song. A tear ran out over his wet cheek as he fell asleep.
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Thendiel had magically clasped the king’s hand firmly into her own. She would not lose him to death no matter what happened. Once, crossed over into the spirit plane, she could clearly see the deep lines of grief moving on the king’s stricken face. He struggled against the pain he felt in the mortal realm. They floated free in a state of nothingness, as she continued voicing her ancient magics. As their life or death debate continued, she fought with and against the king’s spirit.
Suddenly, off in the distance, an ominous, swirling abyss appeared. Thendiel thought she might have convinced the king to return, but the boiling darkness crept closer.
“Time, I need more time,” Thendiel’s mind screamed as the chaos caught them. Nothing she knew could have prepared her for this thing they were being swallowed up into.
Sorrow filled her heart as she realized their inevitable end, and the failure of the ones who had promised to protect her.
Thendiel’s hope may have faded, but her voice remained steady. She was determined to protect them both for as long as she could. To her horror, she watched the edges of their bodies start to erode. Like sand in a windstorm, they began to sift away into the churning chaos.
Suddenly, as in a dream, a thick thread of blueish-white came streaking across the void toward them. The light snaked through the growing darkness with only one purpose. They were fading fast in the agony of the storm when the thrum of its blazing hot glare hit hard. It coiled itself around Thendiel’s writhing
body, filling her with radiance; holding her firmly in its control.
Thendiel’s song tore out of her lungs like the bursting of the first ripe green bud on the frozen branch. The searing pain and sudden force of it renewed the energy that surrounded them. They were thrust forth violently, rippling with new life in a shimmering stream that was unable to be ignored, as every living cell shattered, mingled and reformed. Together they were born, away from the chaos.
King Ellinduil and Thendiel found themselves standing on a quiet path. Still clutching the king’s hand, she led him forward towards a calm glowing light. When they stepped into the healing brilliance at the end of the path, they saw a beating heart hovered alone on a strange font. The pedestal was made up of running water flowing steadily upward from the floor.
Realizing that she had freed him from the pain of his grief, King Ellinduil could only watch in curious silence as Thendiel let go of his hand. Knowing what to do, she picked up the warm beating heart. It radiated a soft golden glow in her hands. In that moment, Ellinduil thought he had never seen anyone so beautiful as this one who was his rescuer. Their eyes riveted into one another as she moved in close enough to press the golden light gently into his bare chest.
As the heart welded back into its place, the king’s eyes opened wide; gasping awake in his bed. Thendiel and the assembly that was crowded into his chambers melted out of the magical sleep as the king came back to life. Still tightly holding his hand from the ordeal, Thendiel collapsed on the king’s bed from the stresses on her body. The others gasped in amazement at Thendiel’s transformation. Her long golden-red hair was now silvery white, and her skin had turned pale as frosted glass.
Unable to do anything more, or less, Ellinduil put his arms around her and pulled her body close to himself. They curled up into a deep healing slumber as the attendants looked on.
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It is well known that King Ellinduil had survived through many wars and ages among the realms of elves and men. In his long memory, he had never met one so strong as this elderhis who had given him back his heart.