Silevethiel (22 page)

IREWEN SCREAMED IN ANGUISH. STRUCK BY ONE OF the enemy’s arrows, her luck had finally run out. The arrowhead thrust deeply into her right shoulder, propelling her torso forward from the impact. She flung her good arm around Melldren’s neck for support, thankful that her unorthodox position didn’t prove to be a distraction for the great warhorse.

He continued to gallop through the dense forest, completely unfazed by the abrupt change in her condition. She gritted her teeth in agony. Every jolt sent a new wave of pain coursing through her body.

Melldren cornered sharply to the left, and Irewen had to fight to keep the contents of her stomach where they belonged. She forced herself to take deep, even breaths, doing everything in her power to focus through the hundreds of black spots obstructing her vision.

The stallion made another sharp turn, nearly doubling back the way they’d come, allowing Irewen to catch a glimpse of the battle out of the corner of her eye. Silevethiel’s large white form flew through the air. Colliding with the nearest Drulaack, she sent both him and his horse crashing to the ground.

The sight of her Guardian tearing at the man’s throat caused Irewen to suck in her breath. She’d never seen Silevethiel look so barbaric. Her body stiffened with concern when the other Guardians joined the fight. Melldren changed his direction once more, and Irewen pushed herself up to a sitting position with difficulty, twisting around to look over her shoulder.

The Guardians were ignoring the horses. A good number of the Drulaack quickly succumbed to their mercy. But Irewen knew instantly that Silevethiel had been right. Two of the Guardians had already fallen. Six would not be enough to destroy the enemy. Once the Dame and her remaining five companions fell, the Drulaack would have their quarry. All of the Guardians’ lives would have been given in vain.

A third Guardian fell. Screaming in despair, she watched a Drulaack sever his left hind leg from his body. His pained roar tore her soul. Wanting desperately to shield her eyes, but unable to look away, she stared with a mixture of hatred and terror as the Drulaack turned almost ceremoniously to face the lion. He sneered at the animal, mocking him with snarling laughter before cleanly slitting his throat. The Guardian’s anguished cries immediately ceased.

As if sensing that perhaps continuing their flight was no longer the proper action to take, Melldren slowed to a trot. Irewen’s heart pounded in her chest. She had no choice but to join the battle. Without thinking, she pulled on the stallion’s reins, forcing him to return the way they’d come. He didn’t resist. Hungrily charging towards the battle, the animal screamed in rage and anticipation.

The warhorse’s absolute certainty to join the fight provided Irewen with some degree of confidence, but doubt grew with each stride that brought her closer to the action. What good could she possibly do? She had a short sword, but against the thick armour of the Drulaack, she might as well be wielding a kitchen knife. Her skills would be absolutely useless against the brute strength of the enemy.

She was armed with no other weapon aside from a throwing dagger, which she almost immediately discounted. Supposing she was lucky enough to hit her target, it would be equivalent to one of the Drulaack being stung by a wasp. She had no magic, at least none that would be any good, and although Melldren’s skills were phenomenal, he was beginning to tire. Without any form of assistance, any other horse would have collapsed after this many hours at such a grueling speed. She was genuinely impressed that he remained so energetic.

She was only a few paces from the conflict, with Melldren giving no indication that he was willing to slow his pace. Desperately trying to think of what she could possibly do, she realized that she was whispering in a foreign tongue. She’d never before heard anyone speak the language and didn’t understand the meaning of the words, yet they continued to flow from her lips, driven to the surface by a force deep within her. Her voice grew louder. A strange power slowly growing in her chest, the bizarre words came with more urgency.

The world seemed to close in around her. She wasn’t aware of anything but the enemy. She sensed them collectively as a whole, yet was able to distinguish each one of them individually. She predicted their movements, reading their thoughts as if she was one of them. The putrid scent of their evil permeated the clean winter air. But it wasn’t a normal smell. It absorbed into her body, becoming one with her so she was able to recognize it. Smell it. Taste it. It called out to her, coaxing her to join it. To become it.

Part of her wanted to listen, to cave in to the temptation. The promise of eternal glory. It beckoned to her. She felt herself being lured helplessly into its trap. She almost gave in to the tantalizing bait, then something deep inside her forced her to cling to her sense of being. Reality crashed down upon her. With the horrid memories of Elthad’s betrayal flooding her mind, she recognized the Drulaack for what they truly were.

Though disgust at her weakness seeped into her heart, it had been necessary. Now she understood. She knew what had caused the ancient spirits to choose these men, and she was all too aware of what separated them from her. She possessed the strength and power to resist what they could not. She’d passed the test.

Ignoring the faint but emphatic protests of Silevethiel, Irewen galloped through friend and foe alike, coming to a stop in the center of the fighting. Still speaking the foreign tongue, she spread her arms to her sides, allowing the uncanny power to gather at her fingertips. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Only the whites were visible, yet surprisingly, she was able to see the Drulaack more distinctly than before. Each one was encased in a putrid green aura that pulsated against an ominous black void. The darkness opened before her, begging her to release the evil spirits from their human cages.

The power fought to break free of her body. She threw her head back, an inhuman scream leaping from her throat. The already freezing temperature plunged even further as the energy bolted from her fingertips. Brilliant turquoise streaks shot towards the terrified Drulaack, paralyzing them instantaneously and trapping them beneath a glowing aqua mist.

Their tormented cries pierced the air as the icy vapor seeped into their pores. It slowly moved through their bodies like poison, freezing them from the inside out. Gray tendrils curled from the men as the spirits fled their now useless hosts, only to be immediately sucked into the gaping black void that awaited them.

The energy streaming from Irewen’s hands vanished, and the temperature promptly returned to normal. The lifeless bodies of the Drulaack collapsed simultaneously before the stunned Guardians. Silevethiel’s anxious voice reverberated through Irewen’s mind. She fell from Melldren’s back, plunging into darkness.

Irewen once again felt herself drowning, being pulled into the abyss by invisible chains that were stronger than anything tangible. Just as before, she struggled to break free from her bonds, only to be drawn further into the deathly chasm. This time, however, Silevethiel wasn’t there to save her from the shadows.

Time ceased to exist. Hazy visions danced before her eyes. Some were of the past. Some were of the future. Some would come to pass. Some would not. She knew with utmost certainty that she was the one who would decide their fate.

Yet, their destiny was not the only thing that now hung in the balance, depending solely upon her. So too did her life. By killing the Drulaack and banishing the spirits possessing them, she’d demonstrated that she had the power to kill. But in order to achieve such a feat, she’d surrendered a part of herself.

It was now up to her to decide if she deserved to reclaim what was rightfully hers. It was up to her to decide whether or not she would live. No one had the ability to come to her aid. She had to save herself.

The figure of her father appeared below her. His arms outstretched before him, he beckoned to her to join him in the Spirit World. She wanted nothing more than to run to him, to feel him shelter her against his body in the familiar embrace she’d longed for since his death. She wanted to bury her face in his chest, feeling him run his fingers through her thick wavy hair. She wanted to feel his warm lips kiss her forehead, letting her know that they would be together forever and she would never be alone.

She was about to give in, allowing the chains to freely carry her into the comforting arms of her father, when a vision of Laegon appeared above her. He too had his arms extended before him. Two toddlers ran to him, one boy and one girl. He knelt down, scooping them up in his arms.

Suddenly the composition changed. Laegon and the children were joined by a slightly older likeness of herself. Irewen gasped. The children were her own.

Squealing with delight, the little boy reached for her. She took him in her arms. Laegon turned to her. Smiling warmly, he wrapped his free arm around her waist. Irewen watched longingly as he leaned in and kissed her deeply.

Without warning, the scene vanished. She was once again alone, plunging further into the abyss.

“
No!
”
she cried, struggling against her bonds. She yearned to return to her father, but she also desired the future with Laegon—with her children. Her heart was torn. She was caught in the vortex of her two loves. She hungered for both, yet she could only have one.

The chains released their hold. Her body hovered weightlessly between both worlds.

The time had come to choose.

IREWEN FELT A SOFT TINGLING AS SOMETHING brushed against her cheek. Sighing blissfully, she nuzzled closer to the warmth, relishing its tenderness. She slowly opened her eyes to see Laegon sitting on the edge of her bed. Gazing down upon her, his expression was a mixture of shock and elation.

“Irewen,” he whispered, unable to hide his disbelief. “Do my eyes deceive me?”

Timidly placing her hand over his, her lips spread into a smile. “No, Laegon. You are not deceived.”

He smiled, his heart finally believing what his eyes told him to be true. “I cannot express the euphoria in my heart at seeing you awake, Irewen. We tried everything within our power to bring you back to us to no avail. Nothing produced even the slightest change in your condition. After countless days and nights of exhausting efforts, everyone believed you were forever lost. Only Silevethiel and I retained hope. But I must admit that even I was beginning to despair.”

“There was nothing anyone could have done to aid me,” she replied. “That power resided with me, and me alone. After killing the enemy, I collapsed and felt myself being pulled into the darkness. Dozens of visions flashed before me while I fell. Some were of the future, but I knew they were not certain. They were linked to me. Their fate depended on mine. It was then that I was presented with two separate visions, each enticing in their own ways. One would come to pass if I lived, the other if I died. I was forced to choose.”

Laegon’s voice was breathless with wonderment. “So our suspicions about you proved to be true.”

Irewen furrowed her brow in confusion. “I do not understand.”

“You have the blood of the four races.”

She was astonished. “How can you be certain?”

“We already know you have the blood of both the Wood Elves and the Green Elves. What you unleashed upon the Drulaack is an ability found only among the Sea Elves. By giving up a part of themselves, they are able to destroy an enemy by calling upon the element that they hold so dear to their hearts. Water. The visions of the future you experienced are proof you also have the gift of Foresight and the blood of the Light Elves. Because you chose to live, the events you saw will come to pass in one way or another.”

She sat up. “Are you positive?”

“Aye, Irewen. I am. You must still travel to the city of Lilendvelle as planned, for I believe that is the path you must follow. But in my heart, I also believe that you are the one spoken of in Irwiendel’s prophecy. You are the one who will unite the four elven races and stand against Elthad. You are the one the fate of our world depends upon.”

For a time, Irewen mulled over his words, saying nothing. When she spoke, her voice held a velvety air of satisfaction that Laegon had never heard before.

“I suspected I’d discover my elven blood contained that of all four races,” she explained, “but I must admit that receiving confirmation is a bit overwhelming. It presents me with an odd sort of contentment. A reassuring finality. After twenty years of wondering and speculation, my curiosity into my heritage has been answered. I don’t know names or details, but strangely, that does not matter. Finally, after so many years of feeling lost, I know who I am.

“The truth does nothing to alter my charge. I will still search the Light Elves’ archives and discover the identity of the woman spoken of in the prophecy. Whether or not I am the one to unite the four Elven races, I will still do everything in my power to destroy Elthad and the Drulaack. Nothing has changed. But I feel different. I feel at peace with myself. At ease. Whole.”

She wrinkled her nose, trying to find the appropriate words. “It is more than that though. I feel energized, the roots of which go far deeper than mere knowledge of my ancestry. For the first time in my life, I did not follow someone else’s orders. When I turned around to join the battle, I acted on what I believed to be right. I found the power to defeat the Drulaack on my own. I had no help from you, or Silevethiel, or anyone else. I realized what needed to be done, and I found a way to accomplish it.

“When hanging in the balance, I made the choice to fight death. Many factors contributed to my decision to live, not the least of which was you. But in doing so, I liberated myself. I’m free. Reborn. I finally buried the girl I was and became the woman I was meant to be.”

Saying nothing, Laegon leaned towards her, pressing his mouth firmly against hers. She returned his kiss hungrily, losing herself in their mutual passion. Slowly pulling him on top of her, they melted onto the bed, her heart fluttering in pure ecstasy. They were one: heart, body, and soul.

She had made the right choice.