The Reckoning (short story)
Title: The Reckoning
Author: Rohese Bayvel-Timbertree
First published on the 15th day of Charlatos in the year 5122
Following on from the Search for the Truth, this journal is a repository of vignettes around Rohese's continued story including the repercussions of her search for the truth about her family and the mysteries of the Codex Ista (Book of Knowledge).
Prologue
"It all begins and ends in your mind. What you give power to, has the power over you, if you allow it."
It had all started with a curse.
Poladra hadn't meant to hurt Rohese quite so profoundly. She had lashed out but who could blame her. To have your fiancé declare his love for another on your wedding day was enough to anger anyone; for it to be your own sister was the cruellest blow of all.
Admittedly, Rohese had claimed to have been oblivious and, in hindsight, that was probably true. Rohese had always been the naive one, something that Poladra often used to her advantage. As children, they had bickered like all sisters are wont to do but, on the whole, they had been quite amicable. Rohese had resented how close her elder sibling had been to their father though. He didn't actually play favourites; he merely had more interest in the arcane arts than the spiritual.
Poladra paced her small room, her heels clicking against the bare stone floor. The term "room" was probably an exaggeration. It was more of a cell furnished with a cot, a single blanket and a rickety stand, on which stood a jug of tepid water for bathing. The only redeeming feature about the confined space was the window that overlooked a cobbled courtyard and the fact that the door was ajar. Poladra's movements were no longer restricted and she was free to come and go at will.
The witch had spent the last 25 years striving to understand and perfect her magical power in this place, hiding from Elven society while she wrestled with her conscience and desire to learn more. She stood at the window and stared at the moons in the night sky. Another Lornon's Eve had come and gone and she was still unable to harness the Dark Moon's potent energy. Three months on and she had finally learned something that brought that possibility closer.
Word had reached her that Rohese had come into possession of their grandmother's ring. The Day of Zelia's Warning was only weeks away; it was time.
It Begins
Rohese slipped her trowel into the trug to the side and rose to her feet with a weary sigh. Pulling the muddy gloves from her hands, she lay them on top of the gardening tools and grimaced at the state of her pinafore. The soil-stained hem was testament to her efforts that morning in the manse garden. Spring was in the air and Rohese was conscious that there was still so much to do to prepare and she couldn't leave it all to Hosta, House Sylvanfair's dedicated gardener of many years.
The birds in the nearby trees were in full voice; their melodic song was enough to drive away any sense of melancholy and Rohese felt her spirits lift as she took in the freshly tilled soil and array of tender green seedlings around her.
The sun was low in the west. Mirkk would hopefully be home soon from another day out helping the Mirror's Steward to track down poachers. Rohese would just have time to change if she headed in now. She giggled to herself at the thought of being caught in her gardening apparel and it reminded her of the time Mirkk had arrived at the Ailanthus Manor a year ago in his fishing gear.
Pausing at the door into the manse, Rohese picked a few sprigs of lilac and added them to the trug; a vase or two would brighten up the place. On entering, she noticed that a couple of unopened letters had been left on the table. Normally they would be opened and those needing her attention would be deposited on her desk in the Solar but everyone had been so busy with their other chores today. One envelope in particular caught her eye; the penmanship was familiar and it caused her to drop the trug with a clatter, spilling its contents all over the floor.
Rohese tentatively cracked the wax seal and pulled out a single sheet of parchment. The colour drained from her cheeks and she sank onto the bench with her hand pressed against the scar on her throat. Time seemed to stop and then speed up rapidly as she re-read the two lines of text. With shaking hands, she quickly crumpled it up and threw it into the stove along with the envelope, where she watched it curl and blacken into nothing but ash.
The irony was not lost on her as she recalled the contents of the letter.
"Enjoy your kisses while you may. Soon it will all be ashes in your mouth."
Fear of the Dark
The pitter-patter of rain outside was relentless. Rohese usually found rainfall to be comforting, especially at night, but there was something about this storm over Mist Harbor that was unsettling in its perpetuity. Turning over in her sleep, Rohese stirred as she felt something brush against her cheek. She smiled to herself - assuming it was Mirkk kissing her - but the sensation built in pressure as it crept across her face and over her mouth. Wild thoughts flashed through her mind. Was he trying to silence her or...suffocate her?
Rohese opened her eyes to try and discern what was happening but was faced with pitch blackness. She could make out nothing in the room, not even the outline of the glass doors that had been illuminated by moonlight earlier that evening. Smothered by the darkness, she lay immobile; locked in stasis by fear. With each attempt at inhalation, the weight of it increased, pressing her downwards. It was as if the bed was yielding beneath her and she was sinking down into a void. In desperation, her hands scrabbled at the sheets as she tried to claw her way to freedom but to no avail; she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness.
A flash of lightning lit up the room, followed by a rumble of thunder.
Mirkk woke with a start to find Rohese sat up in bed. Curled in a tight ball, her arms were locked around her knees with her face buried into them. She was trembling all over and sobbing uncontrollably.
"Rohese!" He exclaimed, pulling her into his arms. "What happened?"
Unable to form coherent words, Rohese merely rocked back and forth. Mirkk held her tightly until she eventually began to relax. Tentatively lifting her head, Rohese looked cautiously around the room. He was shocked to see the terror evident in her eyes.
She had always been afraid of the dark. Her sister used to tease her mercilessly about it, often pushing her into cupboards and holding the door shut until she was reduced to tears and had to plead to be released. Growing up, Rohese had learned to rationalise her fear and live with it, but this...this was a new horror.
"Fear of the Dark" ~ Iron Maiden
Also see: Afraid of the Dark as part of Mirkk's Tale.
Influenced by: What Dreams May Come
Foreboding
Rohese spent the night tossing and turning; almost afraid to go to sleep. The events at the Stumbling Pebble Bar the evening before had unnerved her; beginning with Talinvor's intervention and ending with both Penre's awful death and the revelation of Greth's imposter.
The act of manipulating minds was disturbing enough to Rohese but witnessing Talinvor perform it on mere children crossed a line as far as she was concerned. She and Kothos had shared the same view but both had felt helpless in their aversion of what was unfolding before them. Scanning the many faces in the room, it had been clear that others had also felt uncomfortable. What was it that had prevented them all from intervening? Had Talinvor succeeded in manipulating their minds too?
Thankfully, Kothos had taken the child Reynai under his wing and whisked her away to safety. She made a mental note to offer her assistance to the gentle Brother Blud but first, there was the demise of Greth to come to terms with. Beloved to many, Greth and his bar were the beating heart of Mist Harbor. Rohese struggled to even contemplate his not being there. What of Zofiya? That young lady had been incensed. What was she now capable of given the time she had spent with Socius? And what of Socius? If word reached him, she dreaded to think of the consequences.
Rohese rolled over once more, plumping her pillow in an attempt to try and find some measure of peace or comfort, but to no avail. Her eyes rested on Mirkk who seemed to be struggling with his own inner demons again, given his pained expression. What was it that troubled him so much in his dreams? She brushed aside a lock of hair that had strayed across his face and resigned herself to another sleepless night.
An hour later, as dawn was beginning to make its presence felt, Rohese rose from the bed. She reached for her diary, made a quick entry and brushed aside a solitary tear that had tracked its way down her cheek. There was a heavy sense of foreboding in the air and, try as she might, she was unable to shrug it off.
For some reason, her sister's veiled threats from over two decades ago echoed in her mind:
You will never know what it is to be at peace.
Influenced by: What Dreams May Come
Dissonance
Eairion glanced over at the couch to see Rohese curled up and engrossed in a book. Shifting his gaze slightly, he observed Mirkk at the other end, staring into the hearth where a fire was burning steadily. Despite the early onset of spring, the library still held a chill in the evening and a fire was always welcome.
"You two are very quiet this evening." He remarked casually, rising to refill his glass from the bottle on the nearby table. He tilted the tumbler towards the candle to admire the honey-hued liquid coating its inside surface.
Rohese looked up from her book and smiled warmly at her grandfather. "I'm sorry, I'm just tired.” She glanced at Mirkk with a slight look of apprehension before adding, "I've been busy working on Elanthian Vogue of late."
Mirkk's gaze remained fixed on the lambent flames as he muttered something under his breath about the Steward and poachers.
It was clear from his expression that Eairion did not believe either of them. He was reminded of the letter he had received from his grand-daughter a week ago. "Hiding behind your work, you mean." Eairion retorted and sat back in his chair, facing them.
"Who's going to start?" Eairion's eyes tracked back and forth between the unusually reserved couple.
Rohese lowered her gaze to the open pages of her book and continued to sit in silence. Mirkk reached out to take ahold of one of her hands, squeezing it with a reassuring smile. Looking up, she wiggled her nose at him and rose to her feet.
"Please excuse me, I think I'll have an early night and go to bed."
She kissed Mirkk tenderly on the cheek and he reluctantly let her fingers slide away from his. Both men watched in silence as she left the room, closing the door behind her.
Eairion's gaze turned back to Mirkk.
"Well, would you like to explain what that was all about?"
A robed figure stepped out from the shadow of the trees and stared up at the familiar house with its ivy-strewn gables and arched windows. Seeing the candlelight flicker in one of the upstairs rooms, a knowing smile crossed her gaunt face.
Poladra hadn't been to Nendelomea* in decades but she remembered its layout well. It would seem that their grandfather had granted Rohese and her husband the use of the main suite. It struck her as odd that Eairion let them stay here together, let alone give his approval for their union. She doubted that he would have been quite so easy-going had their grandmother still been in residence. Sahese had not been known for her tolerance of impropriety and a Bayvel marrying outside of the Elven Houses would have caused her some consternation.
Poladra closed her eyes and inhaled deeply of the night air. The dissonance within the walls was palpable, which added to her sense of satisfaction as she thrived on confusion and anxiety. In recent days, she had found that the closer she got to her sister, the more she could feel her pain and this pleased her too.
The clouds drifted across the night sky to reveal the waning Liabo and waxing Lornon moons. How auspicious. Let's hope it mirrors our shifting fortunes. Pushing back the deep hood of her black satin robe, she tilted her face upwards to bathe in the cool luminescence. The white streak in her hair flashed and her waxen skin took on an ethereal glow but it quickly faded. She hissed in frustration at her failure yet again to call down the lucent energy, causing the tiny nacreous humanoid skeleton perched on her shoulder to curl its scorpion tail defensively.
"Hush now," Poladra purred, scratching the back of its neck to soothe the creature. The skeleton relaxed its tail and stretched out its wings, basking in her attention. She whispered a few words to her macabre companion and it nodded vehemently in reply, climbing down from her shoulder and into her hand. Poladra approached the house and watched in wry amusement as it leapt from her grasp to scamper up the ivy vine leading to the candlelit window, where it disappeared from sight.
With a satisfied glance upwards, Poladra twisted her hand sharply and engulfed herself in shadow.
Mirkk rose from the couch and walked across the library to a nearby shelf, his back now to Eairion. His eyes fell on a particular black leather-bound volume, the silver lettering read, Noble Houses of the Turamzzyrian Empire: 4000 to 4499.
"I have a past," he sighed, lowering his gaze. He paused, the only response coming from an acute pop and subsequent crackle of the fireplace. He strode slowly along the long line of books, stopping just before the large curtained windows, a dull light shining through from the moons. His eyes fell upon another volume, bound in rich brown leather, with gold and scarlet script that read Úvanimi, Arauci, a Sancossi.
Turning his head and speaking over his shoulder, he added, "And it isn't all noble. It isn't all virtuous." Mirkk quickly glanced out the window and furrowed his brow as if something had caught his attention. After a moment, with his eyes still fixed on the window, he slowly turned toward Eairion, his gaze at last breaking from the glass panes.
Hesitating, Mirkk cautiously offered, "My lord, I laid bare my blemished soul and I was afraid, for a time, that she would find me wanting." Eairion studied him and nodded somberly.
See: A Haunted Past (short story)
Rohese sat on the edge of the bed and held her head in her hands. It had been a difficult couple of weeks in which they had both suffered from nightmares and Mirkk had struggled to come to terms with his past. Having finally shared it with her, he'd withdrawn completely and the pain this had caused her had been unbearable. Seeing him every day but not being able to reach him had been like a knife wound to the heart yet she'd had to continue on with her duties. Even her glamour had failed to work and she was exhausted from trying to keep up appearances.
Time and patience. No matter how many times she had repeated that mantra to herself, it hadn't really helped. The rift between Mirkk and herself had widened to the extent that she felt all was lost between them and, in desperation, she'd written to her grandfather.
Brother Blud had reassured her that all would be well, given time, but now Eairion knew something was amiss. She regretted sending the letter; in it she had simply stated that she needed some time away and asked if she could come and stay. She had not accounted for the fact that he was far more perceptive than she’d given him credit for. Oh well, what's done is done. She just hoped that Mirkk was now sharing his troubles with him too and reassuring him that they’d managed to work through their problems together.
Feeling a little more at ease, she laid her head down onto the soft pillow and drifted off to sleep just as a tiny skeletal face appeared at the window.
Eairion joined Mirkk at the window and silently refilled both their glasses. The clouds drifted across the star-filled sky, muting the silvery moon glow that had been bathing the extensive lawn. The inky darkness of night descended over the estate once more, as if responding to the change of mood within.
"Come with me." Eairion said, placing the whiskey bottle on a nearby table and heading towards the far end of the library where he paused in front of a portrait that practically filled the wall space.
The face staring out of the canvas was that of a tall elf of indeterminate age although, judging by her countenance, she was not youthful. Her gaze spoke of wisdom and intuition with a hint of torment. The talented artist had seen something in the lady’s demeanour and managed to capture it in the painstakingly applied oils. Silvery white hair cascaded over her shoulders to blend with the free-flowing sleeves of her pale ivory silk gown. The only touch of colour in the pallid portrayal of the noble lady came from the addition a lavender sash draped across her body. Holding it in place at the hip was a Mazarine Blue butterfly pin; a signifier of the flight of small butterflies fluttering around her.
"My Sahese." Eairion remarked, his tone pensive and quiet. "You can see where my grand-daughter gets her beauty from." Taking a sip from his glass, he simply stared at the painting for a few more minutes before resuming his conversation.
"You spoke of a blemished soul and fear of being found wanting; I know something of that pain."
Eairion breathed a heavy sigh. "Now is not the time to tell of it but I wanted you to know that I do understand."
Mirkk glanced between the stately elf at his side and the portrait. Eairion seemed to be unable to take his eyes off his wife. It was clear he was struggling with something but Mirkk was reluctant to press the matter; he had troubles of his own. A pair of perceptive, smoke grey eyes stared back from the canvas, as if questioning why both men were standing before her. Now he understood a little more about her reputation and why Rohese held her in such high regard. Sahese was clearly a lady of significance in the Bayvel family and he hoped that one day Eairion would explain why she had chosen to leave.
Both men simultaneously drained their glasses. The moment felt like a silent tribute to an admired matriarch and lost love. Eairion nodded once. Placing his empty glass next to the whiskey bottle, he left the room without a word or backward glance.
Mirkk plunked his fishing line into the middle of the river. Having anticipated the salmon run for the past six months, he had hoped Eairion would have chosen fly fishing. He was dismayed when the patriarch decided on drift fishing instead, and furthermore insisted on a spot along the river that seemed peculiar. The two stood apart along the bank, though close enough to still occasionally converse.
As the morning crept by, moving toward midday, the mist that covered the Lake of Shadowed Sorrows and often encroached its tributaries began to lift its veil, allowing Mirkk a glimpse across the river into trees beyond. He noticed a well-kept orchard just past the opposite bank. He called to Eairion, inquiring, "Are those..."
"Peach trees," Eairion responded with a slight nod. Mirkk studied the neatly lined trees across the way, noting their strong roots and sturdy trunks.
"They must be quite old," he noted.
"That orchard is over seven hundred years old," Eairion commented. He glanced at Mirkk.
Mirkk watched several workers toiling about at the far end of the orchard. They were barely visible, but he could see them trimming the branches and clearing away fallen limbs and brush. "They're clearing it away? Won't they not be ready for several months?"
Eairion adjusted his fishing line slightly in the smooth flowing water in an effort to catch a prized salmon. "They are," he replied. After a pregnant pause, he added, "Some things – the things you wish to long last – require maintenance. In the case of that orchard, the work is not done when the trees are in bloom and producing wonderful fruit. No, the real work is done when things seem dormant."
Mirkk glanced at the old elf thoughtfully for a moment before returning his gaze to his own fishing line. His eyes wandered back to the stately trees.
With a knowing smile, Eairion continued, "Clearing the brush, the dead branches and the like, it keeps the pests – those things that would eat away at the tree itself – at bay. The hard work is done now, and come late summer and even as far north as Nendelomea, we will have a wonderful harvest. Those trees will be full of succulent peaches, more than you or I could ever enjoy by ourselves."
Mirkk's gaze was fixed upon the orchard, but his thoughts drifted elsewhere. He reflected on the past few weeks and his marriage to Rohese, considering all that Eairion had just offered. After some reflection, he smiled to himself. He decided the fishing trip was fruitful, even if the two did not catch a single salmon that day.
Second Thoughts
Poladra was disappointed. She had learned that her sister and husband were reconciled and, from what she had heard, they seemed to be happier than ever.
It's just a minor setback! Perhaps it's time to reveal myself to my grandfather. Eairion would surely be pleased to see me again, and, as the eldest living Bayvel descendant, Nendelomea would rightfully be mine one day.
The nacreous skeleton in Poladra's hand scampered up her arm and perched atop her shoulder. Lost in thought, she scratched the back of the creature's head and it stretched its wings in satisfaction. At the sound of approaching horses, Poladra turned sharply. Mirkk and Rohese broke through the trees on horseback, the chestnut mare and white filly keeping pace with each other in a steady gallop.
Slinking back into the relative safety of the thicket, the last thing she heard was their laughter as they raced each other along the wide track leading to the house.
On second thoughts, now isn't the time.
The sun was low in the sky, staining it coral pink, as Eairion approached the cobbled stable yard. He paused at the gate and stepped back into the shadows of its stone arch to watch Mirkk take the filly's reins and help Rohese dismount. His concerns about their relationship had been reinforced recently but he was trying not to interfere. He liked Mirkk - the man had made a good impression from the outset - but he loved his grand-daughter. She reminded him so much of his wife and the last thing he wanted was to see her hurt again; she was his last link to Sahese.
Mirkk continued to hold Rohese's gloved hand, pulling her closer to him to exchange kisses and a few whispered words. Eairion was heartened to see that their usual ease with one another had returned and he smiled to himself as they laughed together at some private joke. Anyone watching them couldn’t fail to see how much in love they were.
Not for the first time, he felt a pang of regret at choosing not to attend their wedding last year. It was a mistake and due solely to some foolish stubbornness on his part. Deciding not to interrupt, he walked back to the house; he would meet them there later instead.
With the usual whiskey glass in hand, Eairion stood in front of the large canvas hanging on the wall of his library. He found himself lingering here more and more lately. For years, after his wife had left, he couldn’t bring himself to look at her portrait but now it seemed to bring him comfort.
"You would be so proud of her, Sahese." Eairion’s gaze remained fixed on the grey eyes staring back at him. "I'm having second thoughts about my earlier misgivings and I need to find a way to demonstrate my approval of their union."
Hearing the doors to the library open behind him, he turned to see Mirkk and Rohese enter. Having changed from their dusty clothes, they both looked refreshed after their ride to Nendelomea and he greeted them warmly. Rohese looked radiant in her peach velvet gown, the pale chiffon sleeves covering her hands but he could still make out her grandmother's opal ring beneath the sheer fabric. It reminded him of another ring; the one still sitting upstairs in Sahese's jewelry box. Rohese should have that as well.
It was then he decided how he would make amends: he would ask to bear witness to a vow renewal and, as Nendelomea would also be hers one day, it was only right that he should offer to host it here.
Courageous Conversations
Mimini placed the newly uncorked wine bottle and glass next to Eairion, taking a dutiful step back to await her master's response. The fire crackled in the fireplace, sending ember sparks into the room. With an inward sigh, the gnome made a mental note to check the rug in the morning for scorch marks.
Mimini was used to Eairion's long silences. Decades of service as his housekeeper had taught her to be patient. "You may pour, Mimini." Eairion said eventually while continuing to gaze into the fire. Images came and went in the flames, holding his attention; some evoked memories both painful and pleasurable. Mimini poured the wine as instructed and resumed her semi-subservient position. The ruby red liquid glinted in the ambient light as it settled in the glass. Eairion nodded appreciatively and reached for it, enjoying a mouthful of the full-bodied merlot before repeating her name, "Mimini..." He paused for a moment then wistfully added, "It’s quiet here without them, isn't it?"
"Yes, my lord. They do enliven the place, somewhat." She replied, glancing at the wine bottle with wry amusement.
"You've been with us for as long as I can remember." Eairion looked up at his faithful housekeeper. She was more of a friend than a member of the household these days. "I suspect if I asked you to sit, you would refuse, as usual?" Quirking an eyebrow at her, he chuckled at her firm nod of affirmation.
"I have never sat in your presence – or that of my lady – and I do not intend to do so now." Mimini huffed, adding, "I may be old but I am not infirm and I know my place!"
"At least share your thoughts on my grand-daughter's union to...?"
"His name is Mirkk, my lord." Mimini prompted, quite defensively.
"I know his name." Eairion snapped back but not with any malicious intent. "I just can't get past his not being of an Elven House."
"They love each other, my lord." She answered carefully, not quite sure what else her master was expecting her to say. "Surely you wish her to be happy?"
Eairion emptied his wine glass in one gulp and replaced it on the table. Mimini promptly stepped forward to refill it. It was then that she noticed he was staring down the room to the portrait hanging on the wall at the far end.
"Sahese is no longer here, my lord." She noted plainly. It was rare that she referred to the lord or lady of the House by name but she felt it was appropriate given the circumstances and it helped to make her point.
"A fact I am constantly aware of." Eairion snapped again. Neither party took offence at the other's responses, both being used to these courageous conversations - as Mimini liked to call them. She knew that Eairion respected her views when it came to contentious decisions and she gave them willingly.
"I am thinking of giving my blessing by hosting a vow renewal here, at Nendelomea." Eairion continued, with a little hesitancy. Looking up at the gnome again, he added, by way of apology, "It will mean a lot of work for you and the staff, of course."
Mimini grinned smugly to herself.
"I think that's a wonderful idea, my lord. Don't you worry about that, we'll manage."
Determining that their conversation had drawn to a close – Eairion having received her approval – she turned to leave the library but not before giving one last piece of advice.
"You should write to Mirkk directly to make the suggestion. It will show good will on your part, don't you think?"
Mimini left Eairion nodding slowly whilst returning his gaze to the fire.
Dusk was approaching, painting the sky over Nendelomea in shades of pink and lilac. From his usual spot at the library window, Eairion watched Mirkk and Rohese approach the house. The couple paused for a moment so that Mirkk could retrieve a stalk of bluebells that Rohese had dropped. With a contemplative breath, Eairion called for his housekeeper, who arrived moments later.
"Mimini, would you ask Mirkk to join me."
"Yes, my lord." Mimini bobbed a dutiful curtsy and, with slow smile touching her lips, turned to do her master's bidding.
"Oh, and Mimini..."
"Yes, my lord?"
"Take that smug look off your face." Eairion added without even a backward glance.
"No, my lord." She quipped and left him muttering to himself.
Mirkk entered shortly afterwards. Resting his fishing rod and tackle box near the door, he joined Eairion at the window, where the pair stood in silence watching the sun setting over the lake. Mirkk was getting used to the venerable elf's gruff demeanor and thoughtful pauses but he was still somewhat apprehensive when alone in his presence. Mimini had made a point of only extending the invitation to him, leaving Rohese to head upstairs for a bath.
"I owe you an apology." Eairion began slowly, extending his hand towards the two armchairs near the fireplace. Both took a seat and Mirkk tilted his head silently in nervous anticipation.
"My wife..." Eairion paused and glanced over his shoulder at the portrait hanging on the far wall whilst idly twisting the wyrwood band on the ring finger of his left hand. "As you know, she left us some time ago. Something, I admit, I am still struggling to come to terms with."
Eairion took a deep breath. "Sahese had a daughter from a previous relationship and it was she who died in 5112, not my wife as I led everyone to believe. Sahese chose to return to the Wyrdeep to be with her grand-daughter and asked that I not to reveal that fact until I felt the time was right. That came last year when Rohese was close to discovering the truth for herself."
Eairion rose and poured two generous measures of whiskey, handing a glass to Mirkk before resuming his seat and continuing. "I met Sahese in the Wyrdeep during - what you term - the First Elven War and she returned to Ta'Illistim with me shortly thereafter." Eairion glanced meaningfully at Mirkk. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you the history." Mirkk nodded in affirmation but elected not to interrupt. "Needless to say, having seen many of her friends die at the hands of the Empire's forces, her...our feelings towards humans were not very...sympathetic."
Mirkk drained the whiskey from his glass in one gulp and lowered his head.
"When Rohese first brought you here and I learned that you were from Bourth, well, you can understand that I had my concerns. I could see she loved you though - that was clear from the outset - and her happiness is my priority. I have also noticed that you wear the white feather so I chose to give you time to prove yourself, which you have done so, several times over." Eairion turned his gaze to Mirkk who was still staring into the empty glass. "Besides, Mimini believes I should give you the benefit of the doubt," he concluded with a wry grin.
"That’s right, I do!" Came a terse voice behind them. Both heads turned sharply to see Mimini lighting the array of candles around the room.
"One day she will realise that I am master of this house and she can't just enter when she feels like it!" Eairion murmured under his breath.
Mirkk laughed softly and winked at the gnome who chuckled to herself.
"And don't forget it's Rohese's name day tomorrow!" Mimini reminded them both as she left the room.
Mirkk grinned slowly and turned his attention back to Eairion, his grin dissolving as he realized Eairion wasn't half as amused as he was – or, at least he hid it well. Eairion's demeanor softened with what Mirkk thought may have been a grin as the elf refilled both glasses. Mirkk moved to drain his glass again, but thought better of it and compromised with a sip and cleared his throat.
"My lord, if I may be honest..." he said as he rose and walked with intent toward the expansive wall filled with books. He took a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing. "I can make allowance for your reservations. Firstly, allow me to say that I accept your apology. I have learned much over the past year – more than I had ever imagined – about the noble elven houses, their internal politics, and their customs."
He walked slowly along the shelves, stopping deliberately in front of a series of black leather-bound volumes with silver writing. He offered, "I do come from Bourth, and I do wear the white feather." His thoughts drifted momentarily to a recent conversation he had with Rohese about Bourth – about Viridian. He glanced at Eairion who watched him intently but said nothing.
Mirkk drained his glass before continuing, "I can tell you all you wish about my childhood, my parents, my memories of Bourth." He studied Eairion's visage as he carefully added, "Of the Wyrdeep." Eairion stoically showed no response.
"What I am afraid I cannot tell you is that which I do not know. And that is of my heritage. My lineage." Mirkk turned back toward the black volumes and purposefully slipped one from its place. Clearing his throat once again, he quietly added, "But if you'll permit me to borrow this particular volume, I may be able to provide us all some answers."
Eairion raised an eyebrow and nodded his approval. There was much about this man that intrigued him and he would clearly have to be patient.
"By all means, borrow whatever books you require. And I hope we will see more of you both in the lead up to your vow renewal, here at Nendelomea."
Midnight found Eairion sat by the window in his own bed chamber. He wasn't tired. Dinner had been pleasant with Mirkk and Rohese chatting excitedly about their vow renewal. Eairion had listened with quiet amusement as they discussed their plans. Nothing more was said of his conversation earlier that evening with Mirkk and he felt more at ease with them both. He would go as far as to say that he enjoyed Mirkk's company.
Eairion slipped the leaf-carved dark brown wyrwood band from his finger. Turning it in his hand, he read the faded inscription inside: "The courage to love will send you to places greater than the stars."
Sighing heavily, he placed it next to the smaller, slender dark brown wyrwood thumb ring in the box on the table. He recalled the inscription on his wife's ring: "For we put the thought of all that we love into all that we are."
Then, with a note of finality, he snapped the lid shut.
Alone
See: Vast Grey Seas
Eairion stood alone at the library window, as he did most nights, staring out across the expanse of lawn stretching down towards the lake. The summer mists were rising from the surface of the limpid water, engulfing the grey sea of grass with their languid silvery tentacles and advancing steadily towards the sanctuary of the house like a spectral leviathan. He was in a pensive mood; everything felt more sinister in the moonlight.
It didn't help that she was there again, in the shadow of the nearby tree, eyes fixed on the upstairs window where Mirkk had retired early for the night. Just like her sister, Poladra bore an uncanny resemblance to his wife. Was this why he still felt a connection to her despite her indefensible actions towards Rohese two decades ago?
A bank of clouds drifted across the moons and, as the ensuing curtain of darkness descended over the estate, he watched his estranged grand-daughter slip out of sight. With a sense of foreboding, he realised it was probably time to discuss it with Mirkk.
The waxing crescent of a silvery Liabo moon hung low in the star-strewn sky, overshadowed somewhat by the first quarter of its sister. Rohese stirred in her sleep and turned to face the window. Bathed in moonlight, she appeared paler than usual as the dream realm reclaimed her.
Counting to ten, Rohese lifted her head from her grass-stained knees and cried out, "Coming, ready or not!" With a rising feeling of dread, she ran around the garden looking in all of the usual hiding places but they were nowhere to be found. Where was everyone?
A summer day faded into a moonless night. Dressed only in a thin cotton shift, Rohese found herself roaming her grandparent's house hand-in-hand with her sister. Poladra enjoyed exploring all the nooks and crannies by candlelight, often venturing into long abandoned rooms. Rohese felt herself pushed through a doorway, which was duly slammed shut behind her and she froze in terror as she heard the "snick" of a key turning in the lock. She was all alone, in the dark.
Struggling against a very real sense of panic, Rohese pulled the blanket to her, holding it up to her face and wept into its soft folds. She had instinctively reached out for Mirkk the moment she had woken from her night terrors but was all alone in bed. For a fleeting moment, she wondered whether the last year hadn’t also been a dream but, with her wedding band clutched tightly against her chest, she felt reassured that he was in fact real – just not there.
Reins in one hand, Eairion signaled to the others behind him to stop. He dismounted with easy grace despite the burden of his years. The riders had left the house early with the intention of reaching their destination by noon and they were making good progress; the copse was the perfect place to stop for a short rest. It was also a good chance to speak with Mirkk before they all got caught up with plans for next month's hunt. Tethering their mounts to nearby trees, the group settled; some simply lying on the grass in the mid-morning sun while others tended to their packs or horses.
Despite being welcomed by the elves, Mirkk felt alone and adrift; he missed Rohese. The brief whispers they had shared a few days ago had lifted his spirits somewhat but he longed for their physical connection. He opted to sit apart from the others for a while, finding a quiet spot in the shade of a tree. With his back against its trunk, he watched Eairion spend a few minutes with each member of the scouting party before heading over to him. He sighed inwardly, knowing that he would have to make polite conversation when he would much rather just get the day over with so he could finish the letter he had started writing to his wife.
"Not much further now," Eairion said, lowering himself to the ground next to Mirkk. Mirkk merely nodded in response.
Eairion took a peach from his pack and offered it to Mirkk.
"Fresh from the orchard," he added lightly but Mirkk shook his head, albeit with a grin.
Eairion retrieved a knife from his ankle sheath and began to slice into the sun-ripened fruit.
"Eairion..." Mirkk said hesitantly, just as the elderly elf also spoke. "Mirkk, there's..."
Mirkk stopped, nodding deferentially to the Bayvel patriarch.
"I was going to ask if Rohese had told you anything about her sister?"
Mirkk turned his gaze to Eairion, an eyebrow raised quizzically.
"A little." Mirkk paused for a moment, unsure about the purpose of the question, before elaborating. "I know about the incident that led to their estrangement, if that's what you mean." Eairion finished his peach, tossing the pit aside and sheathed his knife.
"Poladra was at the house last night." Eairion added, his voice low and without any noticeable inflection.
"Is that who I saw!" Mirkk exhaled, quickly adding. "Why? What does she want?"
Eairion shrugged. "I don't know. I have yet to speak with her but I thought you should be aware."
Mirkk nodded slowly, his thoughts racing through all the possible reasons and scenarios, then tentatively asked, "Does Rohese know she's back?"
"It's possible," Eairion replied carefully. "That's why I was asking because if she had mentioned it to anyone, it would have been you."
Mirkk frowned. "I need to get back to her!" Rising swiftly to his feet, he looked towards his horse and then realised the futility of his snap decision. They were hours away from the house and Rohese wasn't even at home in Ta'Illistim. In fact, he wasn't even sure where she was at this particular moment.
"Sit down." Eairion's voice was barely a whisper but his tone was clear. He had noticed several of the party taking an interest in them following Mirkk's sudden movement and outburst. "She's in no immediate danger and I'm pretty sure Rohese can take care of herself."
Mirkk's grim expression gave Eairion pause for thought. Perhaps he's right to be concerned.
"I just thought you should be aware in the event she shows herself again. Should she do so, I will meet with her...alone."
Eairion's tone had a note of finality to it that left no room argument, much to Mirkk's irritation.
Lazuline
"Poladra. She is here."
Rohese read the four words on the sheet of silver-edged paper again, her mind frantically running through all of her options. She was on the far side of Elanith and it would take most of Feastday to reach the western shore if the prevailing winds were in her favour. Then there was the time it would take to ride east to Ta'Illistim and on to Nendelomea. But what of Mirkk; what happened to prompt such a message? Surely he was still out in the forest with grandfather and his men. She reassured herself that he was not likely to be in any immediate danger. Should they change course and sail south though? Risk the perils of the Southron Sea and Eastern Seaboard to reach home a little sooner? As much as she hated travelling by ship, she would put up with any discomfort if it meant being reunited with him sooner.
A gust of wind carried a stinging spray of cold water over the rail as the boat cut through the vivid blue waters of the Sea of Lazuli. She gasped as the paper was tugged from her hand and watched with dismay as it fell into the sea. Moonlight reflected from its crystalline surface, creating a dazzling brightness. Both moons were full and this brought her a certain amount of comfort. She felt empowered by the presence of both lunar bodies in the star-strewn sky and drew strength from them. She was reminded of her grandmother’s words, "Drink in the Moon. Be Magic." How she longed for the familiar woods of Sylvarraend; to walk barefoot and listen to the trees. To be with Mirkk and simply enjoy each other's company again.
Taking a contemplative breath, she resolved to make haste for the freeport of Solhaven and forgo her promise to see friends. She was now regretting her impromptu visit to the Isle of Graces but it had been lovely to spend time with the Abbess; the sweet lady was in her dotage and Rohese didn't know when she would have the chance to visit again. The Sisters had seemed pleased to see her too and to hear of her good fortune since she had left them. They asked after Ceyrin but Rohese didn't have the heart to tell them of his disappearance so she merely smiled and mentioned his marriage to her best friend.
Determined to get to Mirkk as quickly as possible now, Rohese kept her gaze fixed on the horizon, watching for the first signs of dawn and, with it, the Vornavis coastline.
Poladra let the blue silk slide through her fingers. Her sister's husband clearly enjoyed the finer things in life too. She allowed the shirt sleeve to fall back onto the bed where a few of Mirkk’s garments had been casually discarded in his rush to leave with Eairion that morning. There were hints of Rohese scattered among his belongings too, some of which Poladra recognised immediately.
Her gaze fell on the lazuline glass bottle on the dressing table; it had belonged to their mother. Poladra picked it up, working the stopper loose and sniffing at the contents. The sheer and elusive fragrance haunted her. The subtle sweet florals of moonflower, both light and airy, brought back so many memories. She replaced the perfume bottle with a faint hiss through her clenched teeth. Sitting alongside it was a neatly folded handkerchief embroidered with tiny violets around the letter, "R."
Footsteps on the landing outside gave her pause for thought. It was too soon for explanations. She quickly pocketed the handkerchief and snapped her fingers sharply. Shadowy tendrils rose from the ground and wrapped around Poladra’s legs, quickly engulfing her entire body. The shadows retreated leaving no trace of her, just as Mimini entered the chamber with an armful of freshly laundered linens.
The curve of a dolphin's fin breached the calm lazuline waters, giving a glimpse of the teeming life below the surface. The water rippled in response, spreading outward to tickle at a bed of floating sea kelp nearby. A singular fluffy cloud drifted lazily across the late afternoon sun as the Jolly Silver Wayfarer waited off-shore for a skiff to take Rohese to the North 'Haven Quay. She was impatient to be on her way but tried her best to hide her irritation from the crew. They had worked tirelessly all day to get her here as quickly as possible, skilfully outmanoeuvring the pirates and Krolvin vessels that plagued the open waters.
An hour later, dressed in simple riding clothes, she stepped into the Imperial Courier Office. Nodding respectfully at the post clerk, she enquired after packages in the name of Bayvel and left with two small envelopes. As she made for the stables, she overhead a commotion in the street ahead. Amid the raised voices and scuffles, she caught the reason for the disagreement: Emperor Aurmont Anodheles had apparently rescinded Chaston's Edict. Erring on the side of caution and very conscious of time, Rohese pulled the hood of her coat up to hide her ears and slipped both letters into her pocket as she hurried on her way.
It was only as she mounted Isilme and the stable hand went about his chores that she remembered the two letters. Retrieving the first, she noted the pretty lazuline coloured stamp and wondered where it might have been sent from. As she tore the envelope, she barely noticed the lace-edged handkerchief falling into her lap as the blood drained from her face. She recognised the handwriting on the sheet of vellum now unfolded before her.
"Do you know what it feels like to have your heart broken? To lose someone you love to another? To have their love stolen from you? Perhaps one day, you too will know that pain. To know only tears and suffering. When such an occasion arises, Mirkk would want you to have this."
She glanced down and saw her own monogram on the handkerchief. What did this mean?
Remembering the second letter, she quickly tore the envelope open and scanned the silver-edged paper with relief. Pushing both letters inside her coat, she kicked her heels into Isilme's side and spurred her on -- to home -- to Mirkk. She needed to be there by Volnes morning even if that meant not stopping for sleep.
Times are Changing
Lavender tea has long been thought of as a calming tisane but, for Rohese, it had recently given rise to a certain amount of apprehension. She had done her best to hide it from Mirkk but he knew her too well; despite her light dismissal of the matter, he was sure something in the tea leaves had recently troubled her.
Gazing into a near-empty teacup had become a habit over the years and, on this occasion, a letter "R" formed by some leavings clinging at the edge of her cup had caught her attention. On tilting it to look closer, she had also seen the image of a reversed key. Adepts of tasseography would be quick to point out the obvious reference to Lorminstra's favour and, given the rather threatening tone of the letter she had recently received from her sister, it was no wonder that Rohese was somewhat anxious.
Unbeknownst to Mirkk, she had also suffered from several visions. Spending time with Astraea in the Sylvarraend glade had led to a series of portentous dreams. Each time the tenebrous skeins of slumber overtook her, she was led further into a dreamscape that had become increasingly more sinister. The latest, that of three albatrosses flying across a glimmering open sea had seemed harmless enough until her gaze had lifted to see the twin moons of Liabo and Tilaok casting a red sheen across the morning sky. Before that, a calm lake beneath a star-filled sky torched by a flaring red streak of light on the horizon and a blackened tree stump in a snow-covered glade that fell apart to the touch spreading bits of char everywhere until everything turned black.
Everything was changing. Rohese struggled with change at the best of times but lately it seemed to her as if everything she valued was shifting and this, along with the vagaries of her prescience, added to her unease.
And then there was the matter of the trees. Their walk around the Veythorne Manor grounds earlier in the week had raised more questions than answers. Often, they would wander and commune with the familial dogwood and glowbark but the lack of response on their last walk also worried Rohese.
Did the trees know something? Were they keeping it from her?
Stirring from her latest vision, Rohese pushed herself upright and glanced around nervously. How long had she been asleep this time? She had dreamt of lying in the same plush grass of the glade in which she now sat, gazing up at a moonless night sky starred with tiny pinpricks of light. A mere breath of a breeze, soft and flower-sweetened had brushed her skin and even now she could feel it. A twinkle of starlight had caught her attention as it began falling towards her, glittering all the way. In her dream state, she had reached up to touch it but as soon as the brilliant light had grazed the tip of her finger, it disintegrated, dispersing into a shower of opaline sparks that quickly died off into darkness.
Rohese instinctively placed a hand over her silver shooting star locket. She curled her fingers protectively around it but Mirkk was too far away to sense it. She often referred to him as her shooting star and Poladra’s threat of everything she shared with him becoming ashes in her mouth crossed her mind yet again.
What does it all mean? Was she about to lose everything?
"No!" Eairion's tone made it very clear that he was not happy with Rohese's pronouncement. "Absolutely not."
Rohese sat down next to Mirkk and reached for his hand. She held her husband's gaze for a moment before continuing. "Grandfather, my mind...our minds are made up about this." Rohese squeezed Mirkk's hand gently.
"And you agree with this folly?" Eairion raised an eyebrow in Mirkk's direction. "I do." Mirkk nodded firmly. "We refuse to be parted again so either Rohese joins us on the Hunt next month or I don't participate."
Muttering under his breath, Eairion turned his back on the couple and wandered down the length of the library towards the portrait of his wife on the far wall.
"It seems your grand-daughter has inherited your stubborn streak." Staring up into the smoke grey eyes of the Bayvel matriarch, Eairion raised his wine glass in a mock toast and drained it with a wry smile. "Times are changing, Sahese, and I'm not sure I like it."
Rohese lowered her gaze and closed her eyes, still troubled by her own thoughts. Mirkk, however, breathed a sigh of relief; he had expected Eairion to be more obdurate. "I will keep her safe, I promise." Mirkk stated as Eairion turned to face him. "You had better, young man. I will hold you personally responsible if anything happens to her."
Rohese hesitated a moment but decided it was time to share their other news. She watched Eairion refill his glass from the antique green-tinted glass bottle on the nearby table and resume his contemplation of the portrait. Rising to join him, she in turn gazed up at her grandmother.
"I have something else to discuss with you, grandfather." With her hand resting gently on his arm, Rohese shared the news of the repeal of Chaston's Edict and Mirkk's letter to both the Emperor and Mirror. She watched his face closely, seeing both anger and despair cross it as he listened to her explain that they would both be working towards the goal of liberty, equality, and justice for all in the west. Feeling she had nothing more to lose, she explained how she wished to form the Glimae'den Trust in furtherance of support for both elves and men.
Eairion turned to face Rohese, his expression cold yet questioning. Glancing over her shoulder briefly at Mirkk who was still seated by the hearth, he kept his voice low and spoke in Elven.
"How can you stand before your grandmother in good faith and say that? You know what we lost to the Empire yet you talk to me of equality and justice."
Rohese inclined her head and pointedly held his gaze.
"We have to do this, grandfather. This is about the future, not the past." Lowering her voice so that only Eairion could hear and replying in Elven, "If Mirkk and I are to have a future, we must do this."
Eairion sighed heavily in resignation, bowing his head and nodding slowly.
"As you wish. Do what you both feel is necessary and I will support it but I would remind you of what happened the last time you made it your mission to help those in the west."
Rohese nodded and reverted to the Common tongue. "This time, I am not alone though."
Both elves turned to look at Mirkk who had been watching them closely.
Reunion
Poladra seated herself in the armchair, crossing her legs gracefully at the ankles and folding her hands in her lap. It hadn't escaped Eairion's notice that her every gesture seemed to mirror that of her sibling and he wondered if it was on purpose. He sat himself across from her, taking in the pallor of her skin and shadows around her eyes; the decades had not been kind to her.
"It's been a while, grandfather." She noted, as if responding directly to his thoughts. Her tone was low and flat, lacking any inflection. Everything about her posture and demeanor was measured and Eairion found the whole encounter to be rather disconcerting.
"I suppose I should begin," she said with a slight smile playing across her thin lips. Eairion merely nodded. In truth, he wasn't even sure where to start so he just let her speak. He was also reluctant to let her see how uneasy her reappearance had made him feel. Eairion had deliberately avoided mentioning anything to Rohese and Mirkk during their most recent stay, especially since their conversations that weekend had been somewhat strained anyway. The last thing he wanted to do was give Rohese more to worry about. Although he was fairly sure that Mirkk would have shared their conversation during the scouting trip earlier in the month, so Rohese was likely prepared for news of her sister's invitation into Nendelomea.
Poladra savoured the awkward silence that seemed to hang heavily in the air. She observed her grandfather mesh his fingers together in his lap so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
"I believe that I am still a member of this family." More of a statement than a question, Poladra tilted her head slightly and raised an eyebrow for added effect. She paused again to await a response from her grandfather.
With a sigh, Eairion nodded faintly. "Yes, Poladra, you are still a Bayvel, you are still my grand-daughter, and you are welcome here." Fixing his gaze upon her, he leant forward and firmly added, "Yet, I will point out that if you are intent on hurting your sister again, then that welcome will be withdrawn."
Poladra laughed. Eairion's skin prickled as he realised her mirth lacked any real sense of emotion.
"Why would I wish to do that? From what I've seen and heard, Rohese is quite capable of getting herself into difficulty or putting herself in harm's way without my help."
"So, what is your intention?" The directness of Eairion's question amused her too.
"My intention? Why grandfather, I merely wish to remind you all that I am a Bayvel. And with grandmother no longer with us, I can only assume that I am the rightful owner of..." Poladra cast her eye around the library and settled on the portrait on the far wall.
Eairion sat back into his armchair again and crossed his leg horizontally across his knee. With his fingers now steepled, he regarded Poladra with a steady gaze and cautiously replied, "I see."
The silence was broken this time by Mimini entering with a tea tray, which she wordlessly placed on the low table between them. Deliberately avoiding Poladra's gaze, she went to leave but stopped at the threshold as the treacherous elf spoke to her.
"Chamomile, I hope, Mimini?" Mimini slowly turned on her heel to fix Poladra with a withering look but noticed her master nod curtly towards the door so withdrew without saying a word.
"Have you nothing to say about what you did?" Eairion pointedly asked, deciding it was time to address the issue.
"What I did?" Poladra calmly poured herself a cup of the tea. "What I did was merely teach my sister a lesson in humility. She seems to have recovered from it quite remarkably from all accounts. Some might even argue that she is improved for it."
Eairion's knuckles whitened again as Poladra sipped slowly from her cup. He noticed a certain sharpness to her features as the fading daylight through the window cast a shadow across her.
"One might also say that I am in fact the injured party. Was I not denied a marriage into a prominent elven family because of her? Have I not spent the last two decades paying the price for my...little outburst," she smirked, "...while she has enjoyed the love and attention of everyone around her? Two husbands, I believe, and this latest one is not even of an elven house!”
"Enough, Poladra." Eairion snapped rising to his feet and moving to stand at the window with his back to her. Watching the sun sink behind the grove of linden trees that his wife, Sahese, had favored, he heard Poladra replace her empty teacup onto the saucer. He took a deep breath and turned to face her again just as she too rose from her chair.
"I don't know what you expect of me, Poladra. It is not in my gift to forgive you; that is up to Rohese. It is also not for me to say that Sahese's ring rightly belongs to you; that was up to your grandmother and she made it quite clear who should now bear it. What I will say is that I will continue to allow you to come here if you can give me your assurance that you do not mean to hurt your sister."
"There is nothing to forgive, I did nothing wrong." Poladra said plainly, smoothing the wrinkles in her gown. "As for grandmother's ring, it should be mine and it will be mine."
"Then we have nothing more to say to one another." Eairion replied, escorting her into the hallway. Opening the front door, he watched her step out into the twilight.
"I shall see you soon, grandfather."
Eairion watched Poladra descend the steps and disappear with a snap of her fingers. He closed the door and turned to see Mimini glaring at him with her arms akimbo.
A sense of serenity blanketed the glade, undisturbed by the drifting breeze that danced around the surrounding trees. Stepping into the circle of twelve stones, the unicorn tentatively approached Rohese, her immaculate white coat shimmering in the silvery moonlight. The unicorn whinnied softly and touched her gold horn affectionately to Rohese's forehead.
Overtaken by the tenebrous skeins of slumber, Rohese's body slumped into stillness against the limestone altar while her mind once again traversed the broad pathways of a dreamscape.
The silver mists parted to reveal a similar moonlit glade. The grass was cool and cushioned beneath her bare feet, and the scent of crushed green wafted up in gentle breaths around her. Each step took her closer to a luminescent figure standing motionless at the edge of the trees. The nearer she drew, the brighter the light, and she paused to shield her eyes against the glare.
Mere moments later, a soft voice whispered in her ear, one treasured and lost to the past, and Rohese smiled as she felt the press of a warm palm against her cheek.
"Amma?" she ventured.
"Yes, my child." The image of Rohese's grandmother wavered slightly on the breeze. "I am here for a mere moment to tell you that you need to be careful. Your sister seeks my ring and will likely do all she can to possess it."
Rohese sank to her knees in the dew-laden grass and twisted the opal ring fretfully around her finger.
"I can’t face her, Amma. She has threatened to destroy everything I have with Mirkk."
"Yes, you can, and if you both truly love each other, nothing can destroy it."
"I can't...I can't lose him!" Rohese repeated, burying her head in her hands.
"Stand up, Rohese. You are no longer a child fearful of every shadow." Sahese spoke firmly but adopted a gentler tone as she added, "I will be watching."
A fleeting kiss against her forehead was followed by a whisper of soft feathers. Rohese opened her eyes to see her grandmother's form shimmer and shift into a snowy owl that took flight and disappeared in a flash of brilliant white light. The deep lassitude that had overtaken Rohese abated, and she found herself slowly waking. Feeling a gentle tug on her sleeve, she looked behind her to see Astraea nudging at her arm.
The Doll
The room was all too familiar. It felt like a shrine to a long-forgotten childhood as a lot of the toys hadn't been played with for over a century but still seemed to be waiting for attention. Dolls were seated around a low table in the middle of the room, all dressed appropriately with a small porcelain tea set placed ready for serving. Poladra sneered with contempt as her gaze fell upon a group of whimsical ponies arranged around a slatted wooden stable in the corner and the puppet theatre with marionettes tidily suspended from the shelf above. Everything was neat and tidy; just as her sister had left it.
She ran her finger along the spines of the books stacked on the book shelves, all organised by size and subject matter. Rohese's fastidiousness used to irritate her but now she just found it amusing; it made her predictable and easier to manipulate.
A noise outside in the hallway gave Poladra pause for thought. It was unlikely anyone would enter and find her here but she needed to be cautious. The last encounter with her grandfather had not ended well and she doubted her presence would be welcome in the house but she took pleasure in dropping in uninvited at Nendelomea from time to time. Finding herself in Rohese's old bedroom on this occasion had given her an idea.
She lifted one of the cloth porcelain-faced dolls from their seat at the tea table. You will do. A malicious smile played across her thin lips as the idea took shape and she looked around the room for something that would serve as a direct connection to either Rohese or her husband but there was no sense of their presence in here. Dare she risk crossing the hallway to their bedchamber? A delicious thrill ran down her spine at the prospect of being caught but it merely fuelled her intent.
Opening the door, she stepped out and headed quickly down the carpeted hallway to the double doors at the end. Slipping inside, she instantly felt their presence and reeled from the overwhelming sensation of joy and the wave of nausea that came with it. There appeared to be all sorts of apparel and personal items scattered around the room but all she needed was a scarf or cravat. It didn't take her long to find a length of silk in one of the dresser drawers, which she slipped into her bag along with the doll. With a final satisfied glance around and a snap of her fingers, she faded into blackness just as Mimini entered the chamber on her usual daily round of housekeeping checks.
Mimini stopped in her tracks at the open door, questioning what she had just witnessed. The smoky shadow dissipated quickly but left behind a lingering scent of mournbloom. It evoked a memory of a perfume that she had not sensed in decades; not since Rohese's mother had passed. Poladra? She wouldn't dare? Mimini checked herself; nothing about that young witch surprised her anymore.
"What are you up to now, Miss." Mimini muttered to herself, quickly exiting and making her way downstairs to her master's study. Eairion needed to be made aware.
No More Secrets
Rohese paused outside the library and took a deep breath. She could hear raised voices inside; those of her husband and her grandfather. In one decisive movement, she opened the door and entered. The two men she loved most in the world turned to face her and she glanced meaningfully between them. Equally stubborn, their hardened expressions took a moment to soften as they both realised that she had heard them arguing.
Eairion's letter summoning Mirkk had been reasonable. His request to come alone and not inform Rohese of its urgent nature, however, was not, and Mirkk needed to settle the matter once and for all. He had categorically reminded Eairion that he would not keep secrets from his wife - no matter how well meaning her grandfather's intentions were – and the exchange had become rather heated.
Rohese had taken more time than usual to choose her outfit for the evening knowing that it would likely be a difficult couple of hours. Her gown was formal; lush midnight velvet with a single floor-length pendant sleeve, and she had asked Mimini to help with braiding her hair. Although it was probably pointless, she needed to look dignified - as if she was in control. She was tired of her family being overprotective - of not taking her seriously - and it was time her voice was heard.
"Rohese." Her grandfather greeted her with a tight smile and curt nod. Mirkk stepped forward to take her hand and kissed it, whispering quietly in her ear. "You look lovely, darling." His compliment brought a smile to her lips; he always managed to disarm her and he did so without ever patronizing her – unlike her grandfather.
"Do continue," she said, inclining her head towards Eairion. "You were saying something about how I wouldn't understand." Eairion blanched and cleared his throat. Struggling to conceal a grin, Mirkk turned away to pour a glass of wine.
Eairion sighed heavily. "I was merely trying to explain to your husband how dangerous Poladra is and that you needed to be protected."
"By keeping me in the dark?" Rohese retorted. "I am simply to stay at home and deal with the housekeeping while you all pretend as if nothing is wrong, is that it?"
Mirkk poured a second glass of wine and handed one wordlessly to Eairion, who accepted it with a grateful nod. Eairion sipped slowly while trying to phrase his response carefully.
"Rohese, you don't know what she's capable of."
"I know better than anyone what she's capable of." Rohese refuted, pointedly holding her grandfather's gaze. She fought against every urge within her to keep her feelings suppressed; every fibre of her being wanted to deny everything that had happened to her. Her voice was quiet, barely audible above the occasional crack of the ember-bright logs in the fire as she finally surrendered. "I spent decades wondering how and when my sister would torment me; struggling to understand why she took such pleasure in locking me in dark rooms or whispering cruel things in my ear. Hoping my next friend or pet wouldn't be tortured for her amusement and living in constant fear that she would hurt me too. Then, it happened...that dreadful day." Rohese's fingertips instinctively went to the hollow of her throat and she closed her eyes, murmuring an orison in elven. Mirkk could make out a few words and it startled him to hear her ask for forgiveness.
Eairion had clearly caught it too. "You have nothing to ask for forgiveness for, child!"
Rohese was angry at herself for letting her feelings get the better of her. "I have every reason to ask for forgiveness," she snapped back. "And I am not a child anymore, Adda, I know it was all my fault. Had I told you all earlier then perhaps none of this would have happened. We could have helped her and perhaps mother would still be alive."
"She's right, Eairion."
Everyone turned to see a tall elf cloaked in grey velvet standing in the doorway. She pushed back her hood and smiled; the resemblance to Rohese was uncanny.
"Amma!" Rohese ran over and threw her arms around her grandmother.
Sisters
The ivory orb of Liabo graced the sky, placid and beautiful against the darkness of night. Her shadow-veiled sister, Lornon, hung low on the horizon, brooding over those in slumber.
Selenologists noted the date in their journals: the 18th day of Eoantos in the year 5122, a day when both moons were at the highest energy points in their lunar cycle. Other students and interested observers of Elanthia's celestial bodies also noted that Tilaok, the aptly named Flamedancer, was performing her frenzied dance in concert with her siblings.
Rohese awoke with a start, her dreams disturbed by a silent summons. She pushed herself to a seated position. Bathed in the glow of the silvery white light streaming through the manse window, she felt a surge of energy and an overwhelming desire to step outside and pay homage. With a quick glance at Mirkk to ensure he was still sleeping, she reached for her ivory silk robe and made her way out into the glade. The glassy surface of the pool held the visages of the lunar sisters and she overlaid them with her own as she knelt in reverence at the edge of the pellucid water.
The golden highlights in her white hair glinted in the soft moonlight. She barely noticed the subtle changes in her appearance brought on with each full Liabo moon anymore but it still gave her pause for thought if she happened to catch a glimpse of her reflection. Mirkk was more fascinated in how the ink tracing her spine seemed to be more prominent at the same time and he continued to puzzle over its meaning.
Autumn had claimed most of the leaves from the deciduous trees in the Glydemar but a gentle breeze rustled through the remainder that still clung stubbornly to the overhead branches. Their soothing susurration was akin to a lullaby and Rohese caught herself humming a much-loved song from her childhood.
I see the moons and the moons see me,
Down through the leaves of the old oak tree.
She fondly recalled the summers spent with her grandparents and memories of singing such rhymes in the round with her sister, Poladra. The song took on a new meaning with all that had happened since and she pondered the words more carefully as she continued to sing it to herself.
Please let the light that shines on me,
Shine on the ones I love.
Resting her fingers in the hollow of her throat, brushing them lightly over the faint crescentic scar, she murmured an elven blessing under her breath.
Robed in grey, Poladra stood in the forest clearing, staring up through the leaf-bare oak trees at the two full moons in the sky. The six golden stars of the Lady of the Green also watched over the night but her attention was fixed on the Dark Moon.
The nocturnal sounds of the dense woods around her reminded her of the many evenings spent with her grandmother and sister learning about the night sky and especially the Elanthian moons. A long-forgotten refrain drifted through her mind and caught her off guard. She found herself repeating it despite the uncomfortable emotional reaction it provoked.
Over the mountains, over the sea,
Back where my heart is longing to be.
Clenching her fist, she inhaled sharply as her fingernails broke the skin of her palm. Beads of blood formed beneath them but she continued to press them into the flesh as if relishing the pain.
Please let the light that shines on me,
Shine on the ones I love.
Staring fixedly at Lornon, she waited. Still nothing. The knowledge her grandmother had promised them both when they were young still eluded her.
An owl hooted in the distance and Rohese smiled to herself. She wondered if it was the elf-owl that had taken to following Mirkk around recently or perhaps even her grandmother's snowy owl familiar. She continued to sing the rhyme quietly to herself as she rose to her feet and brushed aside the pale strands of hair that had fallen across her face, tucking them behind her ear.
I hear the owl, the owl hears me,
Singing from the leaves of the old oak tree.
Her thoughts still on her current predicament, she sighed. Idly twisting the pale opal ring on her finger, she made a promise to try and reach out.
Oh, let the owl that sings to me,
Sing to the ones I love.
Like the moons in the sky, she and Poladra were intrinsically connected and she still loved her. They were sisters after all.
The Dark Rising
The 23rd day of Eorgaen
Full Lornon moon
A heavy snow was falling, adding to the fluffy niveous layer already blanketing the landscape around Nendelomea. All was still; the woodland creatures having found shelter before the storm had settled in for the night. All, that is, except for a pale elf faintly illuminated by the full, crimson-streaked moon as she crouched over something on the ground in the wintry gloom.
Poladra pulled a knife from within the folds of her fur mantle and, laying her other hand upon the soft expanse of the stag's stomach, made a deep cut into the flesh with its keen edge. Entrails spilled out in a flood of warm sticky blood, staining the glistening white snow a deep crimson. Quickly working her fingers through the steaming mass, she prized free a fat-laced, fleshy black heart. As she turned it over in her hands, it gave a final thump -- thump and stilled.
Examining it closely, she noticed significant hemorrhaging near the left ventricle and furrowed her brow. Even with her limited skills in haruspicy, she knew this didn't bode well for what she intended but there was no other option; she needed to resort to less elegant methods to achieve her goals. In frustration, she turned her arm wrist-up and squeezed the heart in her hand. Blood seeped through her fingers and dripped into the snow as it began to transform in her grip, the fleshy organ eventually hardening into blackened glaes and breaking one of her fingernails in the process.
The 25th day of Eorgaen
Full Liabo moon
The last day of the Feast of the Immortals was usually a time of frenzied excitement in the Bayvel household. The five days of piety ended with a banquet for family and friends and the kitchen had been bustling with activity since dawn as the final preparations were made. Everyone was somewhat subdued though, as there was still no news of Ipsy – the scullery maid - who had been missing for almost two weeks.
Mirkk and a few of the elven rangers in Eairion's employment had spent the last few days riding around the estate in the hopes of finding the young gnome. Other than a stag partially buried in the snow - seemingly gored by a boar - they had discovered nothing to give them any clue as to her whereabouts.
Rohese entered the kitchen to find Mimini sat alone by the hearth and staring absently into the fire. The elderly housekeeper had been so withdrawn lately, inwardly berating herself for not being more patient with her niece. Mimini felt responsible for her disappearance, convinced that she had come to harm because of her impatience and neglect. She had a duty of care and had failed in that undertaking.
Hearing her mistress clear her throat behind her, Mimini jumped up with a start and began to fuss with the tea things on the large kitchen table.
"Leave that, Mimini," Rohese said gently, resting her hand on the gnome's arm and guiding her away. "I shall see to tea in due course." Mimini sighed and slumped back into the chair.
Rohese knelt on the rug in front of the fire and inclined her head. She gazed into the gnome's weary face and watched helplessly as a solitary tear slipped down her cheek.
"Oh, Mimini." Rohese reached for her hand and squeezed it gently in reassurance. "They will find her. As soon as the snow eases up again, Mirkk and the others will resume their search."
Mimini fished for the handkerchief in her apron pocket and rubbed it across her wan face. Straightening her back, she fixed her gaze on Rohese and nodded brusquely.
"Enough of that silliness now!" Mimini leant forward to place a kiss on Rohese’s forehead. "Your grandfather will be wondering where his tea is and there's still so much to do for this evening."
Mimini rose to her feet and ushered Rohese unceremoniously out of the kitchen, muttering about pies to bake and vegetables to peel. Rohese glanced back over her shoulder to see Mimini rolling up her sleeves and disappearing into the pantry for flour and eggs. With a heavy sigh, she went off in search of Mirkk to see if he had any ideas of where to look next.
The last of the guests left just as the clock in the hallway chimed the Hour of Ronan. Eairion cast his eye wearily over the near-empty platters and half-drained goblets amassed on the dining table.
"It can wait until morning," he mumbled, pinching his nose and regretting his last glass of wine.
Mimini bustled in behind him and raised an eyebrow. "It most certainly cannot wait!"
Eairion chuckled at having been caught off guard by his housekeeper once again and went to help her clear the table but was brushed aside with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"You will only break something. Off to bed with you and let me sort this mess out." Mimini began to stack the plates in an orderly fashion and was soon joined by a few more staff who helped her carry them all away to the scullery.
Eairion nodded appreciatively and left them to it, making a mental note to thank them all in the morning. The evening had been a resounding success and the head of the Bayvel household could go to bed safe in the knowledge that due piety had been observed and festivities conducted appropriately for another year.
He paused at the top of the stairs, allowing his gaze to follow the patterns woven into the thick blue carpet that ran the length of the hallway. For some reason, Sahese had come to mind and he was suddenly reluctant to enter their bed chamber; it only reminded him of how much he missed her. Just as he was about to turn and go back down to the library, the door to the guest suite opened and Rohese stepped out into the hallway. Wearing only a thin shift of white silk, she seemed to glow in the dim light of the candlelit sconces lining the walls. Not noticing her grandfather, she closed the door quietly behind her and headed to the room opposite - that of her old bed chamber - and slipped inside, leaving the door ajar.
Eairion quietly followed but paused at the threshold. He pushed the door open slightly to peer inside and observed Rohese standing at one of the windows, gazing out into the snow-blanketed garden below. Liabo was bright and full, illuminating her in a wash of silvery white light. She was so like her grandmother that it caused Eairion’s heart to ache.
Rohese brushed her shimmering hair away from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. The opal ring on her finger shone as she did so, flashing silver and blue in the ambient light. Eairion watched in awe as she seemed to be absorbing the moonlight. The longer she stood in the window, the brighter she became until she was so dazzling that he had to avert his gaze for a moment.
He wasn't sure how long he stood there with his eyes closed but when he opened them back up and looked into the room again, Rohese had moved away from the window and was gazing fondly at the dolls seated around the low table and books lining the walls. Still glowing, she wandered around the room, lightly touching beloved objects and smiling to herself. Eairion was reminded of the many summers that his two grand-daughters had spent here, the joy and laughter that had filled the house. He was determined to see that harmony was restored between the sisters and resolved in that moment, to reach out to Poladra again.
The 30th day of Eorgaen
Waxing Crescent Liabo and Waning Lornon
Poladra pondered the blackened and broken fingernail for a moment with mild irritation. She ran its jagged edge along the cheek of the young gnome slumped in a chair in the middle of the room, leaving a reddish-pink weal in its wake. The hem of her heavy fur mantle swished across the dusty floor as she slowly circled her captive and bent to whisper in her ear from behind.
"No one is looking for you. I doubt that they've even noticed you are missing with everything going on in the house."
Ipsy whimpered slightly, dazed from both the pain and the cold.
With a cruel sneer, Poladra wandered over to the cobwebbed window that overlooked the frozen lake. Night was descending and its shadowy purple fingers were extending their reach across the black ice towards her. It hadn't escaped her notice that, despite the streaks of crimson swirling across its surface, Lornon was now waning and Liabo was waxing. This would work against her but it was too late now, she was committed. Casting a glance back over her shoulder, she pondered the gnome. No one was likely to stumble across them in the boathouse – especially in this weather - but she couldn’t take any chances and Lornon's Eve was tomorrow.
There were protective wards in place around the main house so Poladra had to find an alternative way to gain access. She needed to sort the matter of her grandmother's book and ring once and for all.
Poladra stepped closer to Ipsy and gripped her bare arm by the wrist, rotating it slightly until the crook of her elbow was visible. Pulling a steel lancet from the pouch hanging on her belt, she hovered the razor-sharp tip over the gnome's exposed skin.
"It's time," she warned with a slight smile but Ipsy didn't respond.
Angling the steel lancet slightly, Poladra pressed the tip deeply into the gnome's tender flesh and watched the blood begin to well up. Once satisfied, she withdrew the blade and carefully placed a small granite bowl beneath it to catch the stream. After a few moments, the rivulet began to slow and a few final drops fell from Ipsy's arm.
Gazing first at Ipsy and then into the contents of the bowl, Poladra rotated it slowly in the palm of one hand, observing the blood lapping against the sides with a critical eye. Would it be enough for her purposes? A thoughtful look crossed her gaunt face for several seconds before she gave a shrug of her shoulder and dipped two fingers into the sanguine liquid, using it to paint a crescent between her eyebrows. Settling the bowl into the palm of her open hand, she adjusted her grip so that the tips of her thumb and fingers rested over the gold pentagrams inlaid into the stone. She then proceeded to walk in a slow circle around her victim, swirling the contents of the bowl to let a drizzle of bright red blood drip over its smooth rim and appear as a thin trail on the ground behind her.
Once completed, Poladra stepped out of the circle and placed the empty bowl to one side. Closing her eyes, she quietly mouthed an incantation. Tendrils of dark grey mist formed on the ground, emanating from the sanguine ring and rising to encompass Ipsy. As the shadows enveloped her, the blood on the floor began to crackle and blacken, the charred flakes turning to ash and dissipating into the air.
Ipsy opened her mouth to cry out but no sound could be heard through the blanket of dense fog now smothering her. With a snap of Poladra's fingers, the shadowy mists vanished along with the gnome.
The 31st day of Eorgaen (Lornon's Eve)
Waxing First Quarter Liabo and Waning Third Quarter Lornon
The morning light was soft and grey and the pristine snow lay thick on the ground; its gently undulating shapes dappled with shadows. Dawn heralded the prospect of better weather, the earlier blizzard now reduced to just a few flurries of snow.
Mimini was the first to rise – as was the norm - and discovered her niece lying on the floor of the scullery in a pool of her own blood. The consummate professional, she put aside her initial shock and dismay and immediately set about tending to the young gnome’s wounds. Ipsy moaned as her aunt's hands quickly worked their magic, applying salves and bandages to the many cuts and bruises. Only when she was sure that Ipsy was no longer in danger from blood loss did she sit her up carefully and begin to administer tinctures, encouraging her to take them one sip at a time.
As the rest of the household stirred, each entering the kitchen to begin their daily chores, Mimini started shouting orders. Blankets were fetched, the fire was fed with more wood, and tea was brewed. It wasn't long before Ipsy was able to sit in a chair and Mimini sat across from her, holding both of her hands with a concerned expression. Ipsy had yet to speak and Mimini was reluctant to press her on what had happened until she had rested.
Later that morning, at Rohese's insistence, Ipsy was taken upstairs and put to bed. Rohese had also persuaded Mimini to leave her niece’s side for a while on the promise that she would sit with her instead. Returning to the kitchen, Mimini distracted herself with her usual duties and ensuring that Eairion's needs were met, even though he was not a particularly demanding master and usually spent most of his day in the library or study.
Ipsy tossed and turned all day but stayed asleep despite having frequent visitors. Mirkk brought cups of tea to Rohese and Mimini stopped by to fuss and fret over the young gnome, needlessly plumping pillows and straightening blankets.
As night fell over Nendelomea, Mirkk insisted that it was time Rohese took a break. Conscious what the night had in store for his wife – being Lornon’s Eve - he offered to sit with Ipsy whilst she took the opportunity to have a bath and relax. Unbeknownst to Rohese, Mirkk had told Eairion that he would watch over Rohese this year, much to her grandfather's relief. Seating himself at the gnome's bed side, he could hear the clock in the hallway chime the eleventh hour just as Rohese closed the door behind her and he exhaled.
Rohese dipped her toe into the milky water; the temperature was perfect. She stepped into the bathtub and lowered herself into its steamy depths, inhaling the soothing scent of eucalyptus on the moisture-laden air. Relaxed by the warm, camphoraceous water, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to sink below the surface. It had been a trying day and she was anxious about the night ahead.
Something subtly shifted in her surroundings and she tensed.
Opening her eyes, Rohese found herself standing in the middle of a dense forest. Tendrils of thick mist crept along the ground, wrapping themselves around her ankles and climbing steadily upwards. Feeling the panic rise in her chest, Rohese attempted to step away but couldn’t move. The fingers of clammy fog continued up towards her neck where they curled around her throat and tightened. She silently screamed into the darkness. As if summoned by her strangled cries, an ethereal stag appeared through the haze, bounding towards her with its antlers low. Just as it reached her, it exploded in a blinding light and vanished before her eyes.
Gasping for breath, Rohese rose from beneath the surface of the bath water and gulped at the air. What could it mean? She quickly glanced around the room and sighed with relief to see all was as it should be. Rising from the bathtub, she wrapped a robe loosely around herself and went over to the window. The snow was falling again and it was so heavy that she could barely see anything but her eye was drawn to the night sky where the waning Lornon moon had reached the zenith of its chaotic flux and was now glowing brightly with a sickly hue.
The Shadow was calling; she could feel the darkness rising within her and strived to suppress it as she tried to do every Lornon's Eve with little success. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the window pane and bit down hard on her bottom lip. Her knuckles whitened as she felt the room shift again and clutched desperately at the windowsill.
A voice behind her broke her concentration and she whipped around to see Mirkk standing in the doorway. Her hair flashed with crimson as she launched herself at him and he stumbled back, caught off guard and not sure how to react. With one hand firmly on his chest, Rohese pressed him up against the wall. Gripping Mirkk's chin in her other hand, she held his gaze. He could see that her misty grey eyes were now haloed in red but there was a flash of recognition in them as she stared intently at him. He had returned to her just in time.
The 1st day of Lormesta
Rohese stirred. Wrapped in a tangle of sheets with Mirkk's arm laying heavily across her, she was loath to move. Lornon's Eve had released its hold on her for another year but her senses were still heightened. She lay still, savouring the feel of silk against her bare skin and her husband's familiar scent of evergreens, tobacco, and cloves. Try as she might, she could not recall much after her bath or how the dark shadow had manifested itself in her once more. Odd recollections of a vision lingered at the edge of her memory but the details eluded her. With a reluctant sigh, she opened her eyes and sat up with a start.
Ipsy was standing at the foot of the bed simply staring at Rohese with a vacant expression. Mirkk mumbled something under his breath as Rohese shook him gently to try and get him to wake.
"Ipsy?" she said quietly, wondering if the young gnome was simply sleep walking. Not wishing to startle the scullery maid, Rohese slipped out of bed and reached for her robe. Carefully placing her hand onto Ipsy's arm, she turned the gnome to face her and noticed a strange dark grey mist clouding her eyes. This was more than sleep walking.
"Ipsy?" she repeated, trying to get her attention, but there was still no hint of recognition from the gnome.
Mirkk yawned and stretched his arm out in search of Rohese only to find her side of the bed had been vacated. Looking around sleepily, he sat up in confusion at seeing his wife slowly leading Ipsy towards the door. Rohese placed her finger on her lips to indicate he should not say anything just yet and he nodded faintly.
When Rohese hadn't returned after a few minutes, Mirkk decided to go in search of her. Trying not to feel too concerned about her prolonged absence – they were in Nendelomea after all – he stepped into the hallway and noticed the flicker of candlelight emanating from the room opposite. Pushing the door open, he saw Rohese was standing in the middle of the room, hugging one of the dolls from her childhood. It was only as he stepped towards her that he noticed she was crying.
"What's the matter?" he asked, pulling her into his embrace.
"Do you not hear it?" she replied, wiping away the streaks of tears on her cheeks.
"Hear what, darling?" Mirkk looked around the room with a puzzled expression but it was silent.
"Crying! An infant's cry." Rohese started weeping again. Mirkk turned to his wife and held her tenderly by the arms in front of him.
"There's no baby, Rohese," he said in a quiet, reassuring tone. "At least, not that I can hear." Casting his gaze around once more, he took a firmer approach and added, "Let's get you back to bed and you can tell me what's going on with Ipsy."
Mirkk gently extracted the doll from her arms and replaced it on the seat at the low tea table. Rohese allowed herself to be led away and back to their bed chamber where he guided her back to bed. Brushing his thumb across her cheek, he wiped away the last tear and kissed her tenderly.
"Come on, we'll talk about Ipsy later." Rohese shivered slightly from the chill of the early morning air and Mirkk instinctively pulled her into his arms, holding her until she fell back to sleep. There would be time to talk about Ipsy when they returned home later that day.
Author's Notes
Nendelomea is the ancestral home of the Bayvel family. It is located on the far north eastern shore of the Lake of Shadowed Sorrows. Often shrouded in mist, the extensive private estate boasts a large gabled residence with stables, a boathouse, a well-stocked fishing lake, all surrounded by orchards, meadows, and ancient woodlands through which runs a river (yet to be named).