Authors: Leslie Ann Moore
Throughout the service, Ashinji betrayed no outward sign of his emotional turmoil. Jelena felt his terrible sorrow through the mental link they shared, and the tears she shed fell for him and no one else.
That night, both families came together to share a quiet repast and memories of happier times.
The following morning, the morticians collected the charred remains, pulverized them then sealed them into ornate urns. Raidan carried Raidu’s urn down to the tomb complex beneath the chapel where generations of Onjaras slept in dusty silence, then laid his son to rest.
Sen and Amara had Sadaiyo’s urn packed in a sturdy hardwood box for the journey home to Kerala. Sen wanted to depart before the end of the month, in order to get home in time to try to salvage the last of the spring planting.
***
Two days after Raidu and Sadaiyo’s funeral rites, the royal morticians brought King Keizo’s body up from the crypt where he had been placed in a temporary coffin until the return of his brother, then laid the king out on the main altar of the chapel. Multiple preservation spells had kept the body from immediate decay, but over two weeks had passed since the king’s death and even the most potent preservation spell had its limits; for this reason Raidan ordered that the corpse remain shrouded.
The sun rose and set three times and still, the line of folk waiting to pay their final respects to their deceased king did not abate. City folk and farmers from the countryside, minor nobility and merchants, laborers and off-duty soldiers, okui and hikui alike; all stood united in their collective grief. All believed the king had died of the plague—Raidan decided it served no purpose to allow the people to know the truth of Keizo’s death.
As for the fate of Sonoe, the King’s Companion, the official version of events stated she had perished while taking part in the magical defense of Alasiri, and that her body had not been recovered.
When Jelena learned of Sonoe’s betrayal and the circumstances of her death, she cried, not for the betrayal itself, but for the lost soul of the woman she called her friend. Even though she knew everyone else involved disagreed, Jelena chose to believe the friendship she had shared with her father’s consort had been genuine, at least on some level. Sonoe had fallen under the control of an entity whose corrupting power had proven impossible to resist. Jelena remained convinced her friend had been a victim of the Nameless One, just as she, herself had almost been.
Jelena chose to forgive Sonoe, and in doing so, she let go of the terrible hurt Sonoe’s betrayal had caused.
***
On the morning of the nineteenth day of Monzen, Raidan lit the sacred fire and Keizo’s body burned atop a magnificent funeral pyre in the center of the vast parade ground fronting Sendai Castle.
To Jelena, it seemed as if the entire population of the city had crammed itself into the castle grounds, shoulder to shoulder, to witness the final rites for their king. As the flames shot higher and dense black smoke roiled into the sky, the wailing of the crowd grew louder. The castle guards struggled to keep the people back from the searing heat of the pyre, but finally, one man broke through.
Jelena gasped as the man raced up to the fire, clutching something in his hands. He halted then flung the object high into the air. The sunlight glinted off the blade of a dagger. It disappeared into the roaring inferno and after bowing to the pyre, the man turned and staggered back into the crowd.
Another man followed the first, then a woman, then another man, each one flinging some object onto the pyre. Finally, the guards melted aside and the people surged forward.
“Each person throws a possession of value on the pyre of the king, as a way to show his or her devotion,” Ashinji explained. “Now, the king’s soul can travel to heaven with tokens of love from his people.”
“Should we do the same, Ashi?”
“No. It’s a rite for the common people. It belongs to them.”
Jelena watched the hail of objects hit the pyre and the tear-stained faces of the people, and for the first time since she had come to Alasiri, she felt like a part of the larger nation, an outsider no longer.
The next day, the King’s Guard accompanied the royal family as they bore the urn of the king down to his grave. Jelena walked behind her uncle and aunt, leaning on Ashinji for support. She felt as if the weight of her grief would crush her.
Why was my father taken from me so soon?
she raged.
Who do I blame? The gods of my childhood, or the One Goddess of the elves? Can I really blame any god?
Just before Raidan placed the simple ceramic urn into the magnificent carved marble casket prepared for it, Jelena touched her fingers to her lips, brushed them against the cool clay, then turned and laid her head on Ashinji’s chest. As the heavy casket lid settled into place with grinding finality, Jelena wept.
***
Raidan and Taya ascended their thrones three days after Keizo’s official funeral. The new king, as one of his first official acts, granted Ashinji a promotion, then released him from his service to the regular army. As Sen’s Heir, Ashinji’s principle duty now lay with Kerala.
Sen and Amara were anxious to return home, not just to lay their eldest son to rest, but because they had been away for so long. Jelena, too, found herself longing to escape the bustle of Sendai for the peace of Kerala. She missed its verdant landscape of rolling hills and dense forest. Returning to the place where her life had changed for the better felt like the closest thing to a real homecoming. Before she could leave, though, she had one final thing she needed to do.
***
In the little garden known as the Dolphin Bower, so named for the fountain at its center, Jelena waited on a stone bench for a man whose heart she knew she had broken. As she sat clasping and unclasping her hands, she tried to summon up words that might take some of the hurt away, but in her own heart, she knew it was futile. Only time would ease the pain she had inflicted on so undeserving a man.
“Jelena.”
Jelena looked into the dark eyes of Mai Nohe and her breath caught in her throat. She had not seen Mai since the day they had said goodbye, just before the army marched south to Tono. On that day, Jelena had hoped and prayed her future would include a life with Mai.
How could either of us have known then that the life we’d planned would never happen?
Mai sat beside her and for several heartbeats, neither spoke. Overhead, amid the spreading branches of a fruitless cherry tree, a mourning dove cooed. The scent of lilacs hung heavy in the air. The stone dolphin poised in the fountain spat a stream of water from its mouth that glittered like a string of diamonds in the sun.
Jelena took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry, Mai,” she whispered.
“You have nothing to feel sorry for, Jelena,” he replied, looking at his hands. “You believed, as did we all, that your husband had died and you were free to give your heart to another. I knew full well you still loved him just as much as ever, but I counted myself lucky I had even a small piece of your heart.”
Jelena reached up to wipe away the tears on her cheeks. “Mai, I…” she began, but fell silent as Mai turned on the bench to face her. Pain and sadness filled his brown eyes, but she saw no reproach.
“I know now what true love is, Jelena, and I know only a fool would stand in its way. I am no fool.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m truly happy for you.” He stood up. “May you have all the joy and peace you deserve, Jelena.”
“And you as well, Mai.”
As she watched Mai walk away, Jelena fought the urge to get up and run after him, to beg again for his forgiveness. She knew with certainty the pain of this parting would haunt her until the end of her days.
***
“Goodbye, Uncle.”
Raidan took Jelena’s left hand and raised it to eye level. The thing that had kept strong her resolve, her father’s ring, sized now to fit her finger, flashed in the sun.
“You wear the White Griffin,” Raidan stated, tapping the ring with a forefinger. “The symbol of our House. Never forget that you are a true Onjara.”
“I won’t, Uncle,” Jelena replied.
Raidan let go of her hand, then gripped her shoulders. He stared into her eyes. “I can’t promise you things will change overnight, Niece. Okui prejudice is a fiendishly stubborn thing, but I can promise you this. I will work hard to win over the council in order to get their approval for full rights for all persons born in Alasiri, be they okui or hikui.”
“I know you will, Uncle. Thank you.” Raidan bent to kiss her cheek.
The king and queen, Prince Kaisik, and a small group of retainers had gathered before the main entrance of the castle to bid Lord Sen and his entourage farewell. Raidan had provided a large, comfortable carriage for Amara, Lani, and the children to travel in, along with Eikko, who had begged to be allowed to accompany Jelena and Hatora back to Kerala. Sen had agreed, and so Raidan had released the hikui girl from service at Sendai Castle.
“Goodbye, Cousin. Promise you won’t forget me,” Jelena said as she embraced Kaisik.
“I’ll never forget you, Jelena, not ever!” the young prince whispered.
“Kaisik, I know you think you’re not strong enough for the new role you must play,” Jelena murmured into the boy’s ear, “but you are, Cousin! You are exactly the kind of man Alasiri needs.” She paused, then added, “You are always welcome to come out to Kerala for a visit.” He bobbed his head against her shoulder and pulled away, scrubbing at his eyes with his sleeve.
“Come, Daughter. It’s time we were on our way,” Sen said.
“Not so fast, my lord,” Taya spoke up. “I’ve one last piece of business with my niece.” The queen reached into her sash, withdrew a small parchment scroll, then held it out to Jelena.
“This is an official writ, inducting you into the Kirian Society. Your bravery and sacrifice have proven many times over that you are a worthy addition to our number.”
“But…but, I’m not a mage!” Jelena protested. “I’m not even very Talented!”
Taya smiled. “Your Talent is a lot stronger than you think, child. With training, you could become a competent practitioner, but even if you decide never to study magic at all, you will still be one of us.”
“I don’t know what to say, Aunt,” Jelena replied, shaking her head.
“There is nothing you need to say.” Taya leaned in and kissed Jelena’s forehead. Jelena sputtered in surprise, for she never would have expected such a gesture from her imperious aunt. The queen smiled again and said, “Yes, child, I know. Now, go. Your husband is waiting.”
Jelena looked over her shoulder at Ashinji, who stood a stone’s toss away between their two horses, a hand on each bridle. Seeing the pride and love in his eyes made her want to drag him off to a private corner somewhere so she could show him how beautiful and worthy he made her feel.
The whitewashed walls of Sendai Castle shimmered with the growing heat of the day. The royal retainers fidgeted beneath the sun’s glare; they lacked the discipline that kept Lord Sen’s troops motionless atop their mounts. Jelena gazed at the imposing walls, soaring towers, and swooping blue-tiled roofs of the castle and thought of her father. Even though Keizo had nothing to do with its making, the heartland fortress of the elves seemed very much like him—strong, solid and rooted in the bedrock of Alasiri.
If only we’d had more time together, Father!
Jelena thought. She still found it hard to believe only a little more than a year and a half had passed since she had ridden through the gates of this place, a hikui girl whose only social standing came from her marriage to the second son of an important man.
Now she departed Sendai as a full member of the royal family, a princess, and yet, as long as her fellow hikui were denied justice, she would consider her rank a sham and an affront to them. Had she not promised her friend Sateyuka that she would see to it things changed?
With one last, lingering look at the castle, Jelena turned on her heel and strode to where Ashinji waited, holding her dear Willow. He dropped his horse’s reins to give her a leg up into the saddle then helped to adjust her stirrups. Only when she was settled did he then mount his own horse.
“What are you thinking, love?” he asked, his head dropped to the side as he gazed at her face. “You look a bit sad.”
“I said goodbye to Sateyuka this morning. I never properly thanked her for taking care of Hatora while we were…away.” She glanced over to where the carriage stood, hitched behind two placid, shaggy-footed draft horses. “I promised her my uncle will see to it that the hikui receive justice. I hope my promise won’t prove to be an empty one.”
Ashinji looked away, his face troubled. After a few moments, he said, “Your uncle is an honorable man, just as your father was, but…it’s going to take a lot of convincing to get most okui to accept hikui as their equals. Old bigotry dies very, very hard, my love.”
“My uncle said something very much like that,” Jelena replied.
“I’m giving the estate your father deeded me to Misune’s son,” Ashinji stated.
Jelena glanced at Sadaiyo’s widow, who, though she sat her horse as straight and proud as ever, still could not hide the desolation that cast a pall over her spirit. She had spoken very little since their return to the city, and had spent most of her waking hours standing vigil over her husband’s corpse.