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undertheaethier · 7 years ago

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GoV Ch. 23: Out

Last chapter!

When I came out of the darkness, it still wasn’t considerably much brighter. And God, everything hurt. I regretted my decision instantly. Could I still turn around? The pain was a more than effective motivator to make me brave enough to open that Vault.

I opened my eyes, and changed my mind again. Tirin was crying, looking over me as he did something that he appeared to be concentrating on. He noticed me open my eyes and grinned, laughing in surprise.

“Okay, okay, it’s working. It worked. Kovit, take over, but don’t bandage anything just yet. I need to help Yana.”

Why on Earth hadn’t they helped Yana first?

Kovit’s face appeared instead over mine as Tirin left, and then Veryn’s did, too. They both looked gaunt, worried. I wanted to comfort them. But I couldn’t find those sorts of words, couldn’t say them. I was still too tired. I closed my eyes. For a few moments, all I did was breathe, until I felt I had the strength to give them something.

“I came back for you,” I murmured, hardly above a whisper. “You’d better make it worthwhile.”

The last thing I felt was each of them holding one of my hands, and then I fell asleep.

The next time I awoke, I was somewhere very different, and thankfully, in much less pain. In fact, though I could still feel an ache almost everywhere, and my abdomen felt tender, everything around me was very soft and comfortable. I was clearly in a very nice bed, and someone was holding my hand, singing softly.

I let her continue on for a minute, simply enjoying the sound, before I opened my eyes. Then I turned my head slightly to meet her gaze. “Rys.”

She smiled. “Hello, dove.”

“Are you okay?”

Rys laughed. “Yes, Emrys, I’m fine. We’re much more worried about you.”

“How are the others? Yana?”

“They’re fine. All fine. They’ll be glad to hear you’ve woken up, especially Tirin.”

“Where is he?”

Rys smiled a little wider, her eyes sympathetic. “The poor dear finally went to get some rest. He was helping the healers tirelessly for days, and they eventually insisted he leave for a bit.” She reached over and smoothed my hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” I confessed. “Achy. Disappointed.”

“About what?”

I wasn’t completely sure. “I don't know,” I said. “I remember something...like a blank room. It was cold, but the door was warm. It was speaking my language. But I had to make a choice, and I’m not sure if I made the right one.”

Rys looked concerned. “I see. Don’t worry about that for now, dove. I’m sure you made the right choice.” She continued to stroke my hair. She was a psychic--she was probably right. “Do you want me to see who’s still here? Yana visited a while ago, and Veryn’s been pacing outside the door since you were brought in, he’ll wear out the floor.”

I smiled a little. “Yes. But could you come back in a while?”

She stood and kissed my forehead. “As you wish.” I squeezed her hand and she walked away from the bed. Only as I followed her movement did I realize we were in my room, back at the courthouse in Anar’beran. Some of my things, the ones I’d left behind, were still out on the desk, and the light shone on the wall the way it had every time I’d woken up here before we left. My other things, my pack and my clothes and shoes from yesterday--had it been yesterday? How long had I been out?--were sitting in a heap by the door. The books Veryn had given me were stacked up on the bedside table, and a lot of medical equipment had been put there, too.

Rys closed the door behind her, and then only a moment later, Veryn and Yana were in the room, coming to either side of the bed. Yana took the spot where Rys had been, and Veryn merely kneeled on the other side.

“Oh, pit of the seed, Emrys, are you alright?” Yana asked, clutching at my hand and kissing it.

“No,” I said, squeezing her hand and laughing. Doing so hurt, more than I’d imagined it would. “Are you?”

Yana nodded. “Yes.”

“No,” Veryn answered. I turned and looked at him, though he did have a bandage over his arm, it was the intensity of his gaze that concerned me.

“Wait--what happened?” I asked. I remembered that he’d fought Lerim--Lerim Sunleaf, holy shit--and then I was thrown against a tree. Or did that happen before? “Didn’t you, like, stab the guy? Did you get the trees?” Then I remembered that detail. “Holy shit, the trees. Did you see them? You had to have seen them, right? There were--there were twenty-four.” How did I remember that?

Veryn glanced at Yana. “No, Emrys, we didn’t get the trees. Or Lerim.”

“Okay, wait. Remind me what happened. I’m a little fuzzy.” I turned to Yana. “Can you help me sit up?” She started to do so and my abdomen and spine immediately hurt. “Actually, I think I’m good down here,” I whispered, sinking back into the bed.

Veryn and Yana proceeded to fill me in. As soon as the shield came down, they’d hopped over the wall with Yana’s help, and were confronted by a few of the guards, who they regrettably dispatched in order to be able to get inside, but by the time they were in, Lerim and I had already been deep in the gardens. They’d followed us, and caught up just when it seemed Lerim had expected them too, and they fought.

One of Kovit’s spells had ricocheted off of Lerim’s shield and hit Saelihn, knocking her unconscious, but she hadn’t been severely injured. Then Kovit had become too exhausted to continue casting anything, and he’d had to rest to regain energy. Yana had lost both of her daggers while dueling the spectral sword Lerim had conjured, like an extension of himself. He’d stabbed her, and she’d almost bled out, but Tirin had managed to save her. The details came back to me as they spoke.

“And then you stabbed him!” I supplied. “I remember most of this now, okay. That was crazy, Veryn, that was awesome.”

He smiled a little, but it quickly disappeared. “I tried to meet with the Council in order to figure out what to do, but apparently several of the Raiars have gone back to their provinces for a couple of weeks to deal with the response to the trees’ damage. There’s been outcry from the people.”

As was right. They had every right to be upset.

“So we went all the way to the Crossroads on foot, found a secret castle, almost killed a guy, and almost died ourselves, all for nothing,” said Yana.

“Maybe not for nothing,” I said. “We have a better idea of what’s going on now. We know there are multiple trees, which is obviously valuable information. We know that Lerim Sunleaf is alive and behind the whole thing, trying to bring himself back to power as a sort of revenge for his family.”

“And we know that he’s way too good of a fighter,” she added.

“Against four enemies, yes. Against one, he got reckless,” said Veryn. “I really felt as though I were wearing him down before he lowered his sword. I don’t know if he just thought he understood me, or if he really thought he’d won, but he made a mistake.”

“But now he’ll just hide away the estate again,” said Yana. “He’ll keep building in power until we can figure out how to confront him.”

“Well, he won’t be able to keep the Hinacarai hidden anymore, at least not the way he had been,” I said, remembering something very humorous to me. “I have the cloaking device.”

Veryn raised his eyebrows, and Yana’s eyes widened. “What?” she asked.

“When you trained me, you didn’t just train me to be sneaky, did you? You trained me to steal things.” Smiling, I turned to Veryn. “Can you get into my pants?”

He just blinked at me for a second, and I realized the double entendre slowly, rolling my eyes. “It’s in my pocket, you ass,” I grumbled. Yana snickered.

Veryn rifled through the pile of my clothes and my pack on the floor near the desk until he found the pants I’d been wearing, before I could even remember which. Thank goodness he had a better memory than me, though my recent memories were coming back quicker now, the longer I was awake. He removed the small, dark box and turned it over in his hands.

“This is it?” he asked.

“Yep. Bring it over.”

He did as I asked, kneeling again and holding it out to me.

“Pretty cool, huh?” I asked. “Weird little thing. But check this out.” I showed them the narrow side of the box with the switch. “See?”

“Is that--I’ve seen those words before. Is that English?” Veryn asked, confused.

“Yeah, it is. Weird, right? Are there any products you guys sort of...import here? From Earth?”

“Not really,” said Veryn. “We’ve shared techniques, theories, and ideas, but usually if both realms have something, it’s because we’ve made the same thing independently. I’ve never seen anything here with English on it unless a human brought it here.”

“I didn’t see any humans in that place. Where would Lerim Sunleaf have gotten a device from Earth? And why does something made on Earth have magic?” Yana asked, reaching out to take the box.

“I dunno,” I said. “He probably has people. You know, people to go do that kind of thing for him.” I tried to shrug, and it hurt.

“If you mean a human, then probably not,” said Veryn. “Fae mirrors, the kind that work as doors, are monitored by the Council, magically enforced. There are people who sit around all day, checking to make sure no humans leave or anything other than WRF agents come in.”

Then something occurred to me. “Unless…” I looked to Veryn. “Would it be suspicious for just one elf who wasn’t an WRF agent to come in through a mirror?”

Veryn shook his head slowly. “Probably not. There’s no way of checking to see who’s who, they just have to identify whether they’re a magical being or not. Why, what are you thinking?”

“He never said he did actually stay there all those years.”

“What do you mean?”

“Twice, I think, it was brought up. He said he hadn’t hosted anyone at the Hinacarai in over five hundred years. Then we talked about hiding ourselves away, due to grief--”

“Right, yes,” said Veryn, hurrying me on.

“And I said I would hide away, too. But he never said he had, he only said he had fears. And when I said he was supposed to be dead, he said he’d covered his tracks well. What if--” I felt crazy. “What if Lerim wasn’t killed with the rest of his family because he was on Earth?”

Veryn looked away, thinking.

“I guess...he could have?” Yana said. “He’d be likely to have a fae mirror. They were technology for the rich back then, and they were definitely that.”

“He said he’d only planted the Îrystarrés eight years ago. Maybe he’s really only been back that long.”

“But what about the Hinacarai?” asked Veryn. “It’s been hidden for centuries. That device had to have been created on Earth sooner than that. How else would he hide the estate?”

“Well, those trees around it are pretty old,” said Yana unsurely. “I’d guess even older than the Hinacarai itself. Maybe it was already hidden naturally and with some different magic before he hid it with this thing.”

“We’ll have to ask Kovit about it,” said Veryn in the same tone. “Until then, you don’t need to worry about this kind of thing,” he said to me. “The healers say you should be completely fine in a few days. They had some issues due to the fact that you’re human--that’s why some of Tirin’s methods weren’t working. But you should be back on your feet soon.”

“And then we’ll meet with the Council?” I asked.

He nodded, rolling his eyes. “Yes. Probably. I know they’ll want to see us, I just don’t know what they expect from us. If we’d come back with good news, we would have been straightforward. They have to know what’s coming.”

“What do you think they’ll have us do?”

Veryn sighed. “Honestly, I don’t even really want to think about it.” He looked past me, out the window, but I kept watching him. He seemed tired. And on-edge; worried. Rys had said he’d been pacing outside my door since they’d brought me in, and I had no idea how long that had been. When had he last slept? Ate?

He glanced down at me. “What?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. You just look like the pit.”

Slowly, a reluctant smile grew on his face, and he nudged me with his elbow. “Not as much as you do.”

Yana laughed, and I nudged him back. I got the feeling Rys had been right about whatever decision I’d dreamt I had to make. Somehow, I’d made the right one.

The rest of the group cycled through for a few days afterward, and though Rys didn’t stay every day, she helped me sleep best, and spent plenty of time engaged in that endeavor, or showing me old photo albums I’d never seen containing some of the memories I’d been forced to forget. I had to persuade Yana not to wait on me hand and foot, and Tirin kept looking at me like I was about to die again. Kovit, on the other hand, was being less careful, showing me more casual and almost insistent affection, and Saelihn used most of a couple of afternoons reading with me in bed. Veryn took up a seat by me whenever one was available.

“Tarrow says he’s sorry he hasn’t been by to visit,” said Veryn flatly on the third day. “He’s very busy at work right now.”

I actually laughed. “Oh, I don’t mind if he never comes by,” I said honestly. “What’s got the WRF so busy?”

“Well, half of what we do on a normal week is helping local law enforcement. It’s not all apprehending heinous human criminals.” He gave me a smirk.

“I’m surprised you’re not out there with him,” I said.

He sighed a little. “I’m still on leave until the Council reconvenes and tells me I’m not,” he said, a trace of bitterness in his tone.

I decided to tease him back. “Oh, poor thing. You miss your desk?” He didn’t give me a full smile, and I regretted the joke. “I’m sorry. I know you just want to be there helping.”

He looked down at the bed. “It’s alright. I’d rather be here.”

I felt horrible, sometimes, when I caught them looking at me, or when they would think I was sleeping, and would watch me, or check my breathing. While it was incredible and humbling that they cared so much for me, this was one of the downsides of having loved ones--your ups and downs were everyone’s ups and downs. It became obvious the others thought, ostensibly, that they were more durable than I was, being fae and not being afflicted by the absence of magic I suffered. I tried not to be bitter, because I knew they just cared.

I’d scared them. I understood well; the idea of losing one of them was a frightening thought. I remembered watching the blood pool under Yana and not being able to help her, seeing them all in cages hung above Mekhistreniaat’s trove. And I had nightmares. Of Lerim, of Yana dying, of those trees--those beautiful, horrible trees, their roots snaking around me and pulling me into the mire of pure, corrupting magic. Sometimes, that magic overflowed and rushed like a river from the mountains, drowning Anar’beran or some other familiar town.

But although I was getting a little less sleep, I was doing everything I could to promote my return to health. I knew that Veryn was unsure what would happen when the Council reconvened, how they would react to our news. I was perfectly sure, however, that I wasn’t about to let this go. The Council had hired me--us--to destroy the Îrystarré. Just because that threat was now twenty-four-fold and had a five-hundred-year-old megalomaniac thrown in didn’t mean I was going to abandon my job. I was proud of what I’d been able to do.

I didn’t usually believe in fate. If there was a reason for everything that happened in the universe, it wouldn’t be chaotic--but it is. But maybe it was fate that had taken me from home, and brought me here, unable to go back. Maybe, as Rys had said, I belonged here. Just as my parents had. Regardless, now that I was here in Ében for good, I decided I was here to help my friends prevent whatever horrible tragedies arose from the Îrystarrés and save as many fae as I could. No matter what I had to do, I would watch those trees fall.

#a grove of vengeance #story #writing #fantasy fiction

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undertheaethier · 7 years ago

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GoV Ch. 22: One Hand on the Door

I couldn’t believe--I actually saw a light. People had been right about that, then? There was a light to head into? But I didn’t seem to have much of a choice as to whether I wanted to go there. My feet seemed to be moving of my own accord, though I couldn’t feel my footfalls, or the weight of my body at all. When I tried to look down, I found I couldn’t. Only forward. On. So I went.

The darkness began to disperse as I entered the light, and I found I was more uncomfortable here than when I’d been in the dark. The brightness and blankness was startling, unsettling. At least the black had felt full of something, even if it was just darkness. Conversely, the white was a meaningless eternity. It felt empty.

Until the door appeared. It wasn’t a door, exactly, not a wooden thing, but a metal one, with a turning, spoked handle and lock. A vault? Something clicked. The Vault. The Vault of Souls.

I reached out my hand to touch it and felt I had one. Then I could see it in front of me. Did I still have a body here, then? Or was I convincing myself of it? I put my hand on the door beside the lock, and the door was warm. It was warm like the side of a humming refrigerator, or a wooden bench sitting in the summer sun. Pleasant. Reassuring.

Did I want to open the door? Yes. What was inside, after all? Who? Mom. Dad. Grandma. Grandpa. I could finally apologize to Great Uncle Ward. I could meet my mother’s sister, for whom I was named. I could tell them all what I’d done, how much I’d learned and what I’d found through the mirror in my parents’ attic.

I wanted to tell my parents them I forgave them--for everything I’d once blamed them for, and for keeping secrets. I wanted to tell them how much I loved them, how sorry I was. I could tell Grandma how graduation went. And Grandpa would want to hear about my study abroad trip. All those things I’d never gotten to say, I could--on the other side of this door.

Slowly, I began to hear voices, coming from the Vault. There were so many, they were indistinct. I couldn’t identify what languages I heard, let alone what words. It was a storm of pure meaning, taking some sound so that I could take it in. A language all its own, with no rules or grammar but only ideas and feelings. I could learn that language. It felt like I knew it already, somehow. It felt familiar, it somehow felt like me. Like that was the language I’d been speaking my whole life, simply taking other forms aloud.

I moved my hand to the handle, and put it on one of the spokes, ready to turn. But then came other voices, more distinct than the others--rougher, louder, insistent and plainly awful, and they came from the darkness I’d left.

“Emrys,” they called. “Emrys, please. Please don’t. Come on.”

“Emrys. Can you hear us? Emrys, come back.”

“Shut up--you’re distracting me.”

That wasn’t very kind.

“Emrys, please.”

“Please.”

“...Please.”

The white surrounding the Vault door became colder. It was pressing in on me, like I was packed into a snowdrift. And in the dark--well, the dark became more meaningful. There were images there, and sound, and a subtle smell--something earthy. Yana’s face came to mind, appearing in the darkness. Wasn’t she enough reason to want to go back into that darkness? Those voices I loved, even for their roughness. They were enough, weren’t they? The earthy smell. Whatever that was, it was enough to go back, wasn’t it?

I leaned against the Vault door and sighed. I felt so tired. The darkness was loud and busy, and so full of feeling. The empty whiteness was comforting. But...terrifying. Foreign. The Vault wouldn’t be like that, I knew. Or at least, I hoped. But I didn’t know. And I knew what was waiting for me back in the dark. No matter how difficult it was, I’d endured it before. However chaotic, however awful, I’d always survived there. I could do that for a little while longer.

I lingered on the Vault door for just a moment longer. Then I pushed myself off of it, and resignedly trudged back into the darkness. My last words would have to wait a bit longer.

#a grove of vengeance #story #writing #fantasy fiction

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