Wielder's Fate (19 page)

“We have not had a wielder in our midst for centuries, and this is how you welcome him?  I am ashamed to live among you.  Return to your dwellings,” the regal elf commanded authoritatively.

Many in the crowd immediately hurried away.  Others slowly walked away as if they had just been passing by.  A smaller group stared back defiantly before finally backing down under the elf’s intense gaze.  The three who had charged Traven were the last to leave.

“We will meet again,” one of them spat before they turned from Traven and Darian and strutted away.

The edge of Morian Haven suddenly became unnaturally quiet.  Darian made no move to ride under the trees, and the remaining group of five elves made no move to come forward.  Traven waited for several moments before deciding to take the lead.  He urged Pennon forward and passed the invisible line between the clearing and the grove of giant trees.  Darian fell in behind him.  Traven stopped in front of the elf with the cape and circlet.

“Thank you for your help,” he said gratefully.  “My name is Traven.  I didn’t expect my coming to create such an uproar.”

“I apologize for the way in which my people greeted you, Master Wielder,” the regal elf said.  “Please do not take it as an indication of our race.  Do you need somewhere to stay while you visit?”

“Yes,” Traven responded.

“My dwelling is open to you as long as you are here in Morian Haven,” the elf responded.  “Please join my family for dinner tonight.  Your servant will lead you to my home.  I am sure he remembers the way.  Now, if you will excuse me, I need to finish some business.”

Traven watched with surprise as the elf turned and strode away with his entourage.  He hadn’t expected the elf to be so accommodating.  He was also confused about the relationship between the elf and Darian.  The elf had referred to him as nothing more than a servant.

“You are related to him, aren’t you?” Traven asked.

“Yes,” Darian responded slowly.  “He is my father.”

“That’s what I thought, but when he didn’t say anything to you, I wasn’t sure anymore.”

“He did it on purpose,” Darian said carefully, “but I am not certain why.  He was very generous in his invitation to you.  As your servant, I am invited to his home as well, so he cannot be too mad at me.  I suppose we will discover his true feelings tonight.  Come, I will lead you to the home I was raised in.”

16

Traven followed as Darian led him deeper into the elven haven.  The haven consisted of large dirt pathways that wound around the trunks of the giant trees.  As they followed one of the wider paths, Traven admired the fascinating architecture of the haven.  Just as he had seen earlier, the buildings were almost all built right up against the trunks of the giant trees.  Some even appeared to be built partially inside of the trees.  The buildings looked like narrow cottages stacked one on top of another and often reached ten stories high.  He stared at them curiously and wondered how one would gain access to the upper levels.

They passed several elves but not nearly as many as he had expected to see in such a large city.  He wondered where everyone was and asked Darian about it.

“Most of the elves are in their homes,” Darian replied.  “They are relaxing and preparing to eat dinner.  Elves are very schedule oriented,” he said as he smiled.  “A little later the haven will be bustling again as elves take their evening strolls.”

As they made their way closer to the center of the haven, the buildings became larger and reached even higher up the trunks of the trees.  They were also built closer together.  Despite the numerous buildings reaching high above him all around, Traven didn’t feel as if he were in the center of a thriving city.  The buildings were made of wood and often covered in moss and vines, making them seamlessly blend into the landscape.  If he didn’t look closely, it merely felt like he was surrounded by nothing but the giant trees.

The dirt paths that made up the elven streets turned and wound their way around the giant tree trunks, never seeming to advance very far in a straight line.  Numerous small streams also meandered through the haven, increasing the calming feeling of the forest with their soft flow.  It was easy for Traven to see why Darian had missed his home so much.  The surroundings were beautiful and tranquil.  He enjoyed the relaxing ride through the forest, following Darian down the winding path and over small wooden bridges that spanned the streams.  It was easy to forget the tense confrontation that had so recently occurred.

As they neared the center of the haven, Darian turned off one of the main dirt roads onto a smaller side path.  They hadn’t ridden far when the elf stopped in front of a massive tree.  Traven did a double take when he realized there was a door set into the center of the trunk.  Darian looked back at him with a smile.

“This is it,” the elf said.

Traven stared up at the massive tree and glanced to the sides of it.  There were tall fences covered in vines that proceeded out from the trunk and ran all the way to other giant trees nearby on both sides.  It looked as though the door in front of them would lead through the tree and into a large enclosure.

“Do we knock?” he asked.  “Or should you just let yourself in?”

Darian looked back at him nervously and shrugged.  Traven realized that his devoted servant must be feeling an odd mix of emotions at the moment.  Excitement to be seeing his family after so many years but also fear and worry at how they would respond to the choice he had made.

“I suppose we should knock, just to be safe,” Darian responded.

The elf took a deep breath, dismounted, and walked over to the door.  He raised his hand in a fist, and after taking another deep breath, rapped loudly on the door.  He then stepped back nervously.  Traven dismounted as well, realizing he wouldn’t be able to fit through the opening while astride Pennon.  It wasn’t long before the door swung open.

An elderly elf stood in the doorway.  He glanced at them curiously and started with surprise, first upon seeing a human and then upon seeing Darian.  His eyes took on a look of recognition and wonder.

“Master Darian,” the old elf said with a deep bow.  “We were not expecting you.  Please come in.  Your mother will be very surprised.”

The old elf stepped to the side and motioned for the two of them to enter.  Traven followed close behind Darian and stepped through the door and into a narrow tunnel that had been formed through the center of the tree trunk.  He exited out the other side of the tree and found himself in a large courtyard.  The space was formed by the wooden fences stretching between four different trees creating a diamond shaped area.  Along the inside edges of the other three trees, buildings climbed up far into the sky.

“I assume you will be staying the night?” the old elf asked.  Darian nodded in the affirmative.  The elderly elf’s smile grew larger.  “I will have your horses tended to and word sent to your mother of your arrival.  Would you care to wait in the gallery?”

“Yes, that is fine,” Darian responded, looking more at ease.  “Thank you, Johanelle.”

The old servant bowed deeply and led the horses away with another large smile.

“That went well,” Traven observed.  “He didn’t treat you like a slave.”

“True,” Darian replied with a half smile.  “Johanelle has been a servant in my family for over a century.  I can only hope the rest of the household will be as friendly as he was.”

Traven looked around the expansive courtyard.  It reminded him of Faldor’s Keep.  However, instead of stone, the walls were made of wood and the towers at the four edges of the courtyard were giant trees that stretched up to breathtaking heights.  There were stables to one side, a large vegetable garden to the other, and a pool of water in the very center.  It looked as though it would have been a very nice place in which to grow up.

“Shall we go to the gallery?” Darian said, interrupting his thoughts.

“Lead on.”

Traven followed as Darian walked directly across the courtyard, passing the pool of water, to the building at the base of the tree on the opposite side.  Darian opened the door and walked inside.  The entryway was larger than Traven had expected it to be, with a high ceiling.  He supposed the building had only looked smaller from the outside because of the giant tree that towered over it.  There was a staircase to the left that led to an upper level and two doors that led out of the entryway.

Darian opened the door on the right and led him into the gallery.  Its size was even more surprising.  The room was cavernous with a soaring ceiling and plentiful windows.  The walls were lined with hundreds of paintings.  Traven stared up at them as he glanced around the room.  They were all detailed portraits of different elves.  In the center of the room were several sculptures of elves with their hands outstretched towards the sky.  Around the sculptures rested several benches of polished wood.

“This is the gallery,” Darian stated.  “And these are the portraits of my family and our ancestors.”

“Is there a painting of you?” Traven asked.

“Not yet,” Darian replied.  “A portrait will be commissioned for me when I am seventy-five years old.”  He paused before continuing.  “Well, maybe.  I am not certain my family will want a portrait of me to hang in this gallery.”

“I’m sure they will,” he said encouragingly.  “Your father did invite me to stay at your home, and your servant treated you as if all was normal.”

“Yes,” Darian said thoughtfully.  “But my father also referred to me as a servant.  I wonder if I will be forced to sleep with the servants tonight.  I hope not.  I often looked forward to the day I could return home and sleep in my own room.”

Traven hoped Darian’s father would be understanding.  He had seemed calm and reasonable earlier, but he supposed they wouldn’t know for another hour or two.  He walked over to one of the wooden benches and sat down.  Darian stayed on his feet and paced around the room nervously.  Traven found it amusing that he felt more comfortable in Darian’s home than the elf seemed to.

Suddenly, a female elf came rushing into the room.  She raced straight towards Darian and wrapped him in a large hug.  She was slightly shorter than Darian and had streaks of white interspersing her long golden hair.  Her face was flushed.  Traven watched curiously as she finally pulled back and wiped tears from her eyes.  She then took Darian’s head in her hands, combed his hair back from his face, and studied his honor tattoo and its markings.  When she was finished, she dropped her hands to her sides.

“The rumors are true,” she said sadly.  She stared at her son for a few more moments and then shook her head ever so slightly.  “It does not matter,” she continued firmly.  “You are still my Darian.”

Traven watched with a smile as Darian’s mother wrapped her arms around her son once again in a tight hug.  The emotion on Darian’s face was a mix between elation and embarrassment, and it was hard for Traven not to laugh happily.  There was something amusing about watching someone in his sixties be treated like a young boy.  By human standards Darian didn’t appear that old, but he was definitely a grown man.  At last, Darian’s mother released him with a satisfied smile.  She turned and looked at Traven thoughtfully.

“So this is the wielder,” she said as she studied him.  “Darian, please introduce your mother to the human you have chained yourself to.”

“This is my master, Traven,” Darian stated.  “He is very young, but he is a master wielder and has a noble heart.  Traven, this is my mother and the lady of the house.”

Traven wasn’t sure how he was supposed to interact with elves, so he fell back on the manners his grandmother had taught him so many years ago.

“It is my pleasure to meet you,” he said as he made a slight bow.  “Thank you for having me in your home.”

Darian’s mother continued to stare at him.  He met her gaze and waited patiently.  He hoped he hadn’t said something he shouldn’t have.  She finally nodded in return and smiled.

“I suppose my son could have done worse,” she said.  “Welcome to our home, Traven.  I will have a servant show you to the guest chambers until dinner is ready.  With your permission, I would ask that you allow my son to accompany me until then.”

“Certainly,” Traven replied.

Darian’s mother appeared relieved by his answer.  Why wouldn’t he let Darian spend time alone with his mother?  He was reminded of the importance the elves put on the oath of devotion.  He was sure the two of them had a lot to talk about after so many years of being apart and didn’t want to ruin their reunion by being in the middle of it.

“If you will excuse us,” Darian’s mother said as she took her son’s arm and began leading him towards the door.  “A servant will be along shortly.”

Darian gave Traven a boyish shrug, making him appear much younger than he was, and allowed his mother to lead him from the room.  Traven sat back down on the polished wooden bench with a large smile.  Perhaps things would go more smoothly than he had thought.  It was apparent Darian’s mother wasn’t about to disown him.

Traven studied the portraits as he waited.  All of the elves in the pictures looked surprisingly similar.  Most of the men had solid black honor tattoos, but the female elves seemed not to.  He turned back to the entrance of the room when he heard someone approaching.  He wondered what the guest room would be like and stood up to follow the servant.

He was taken aback when a stunning elven maiden hurried into the room with an excited smile.  She skidded to a stop with a look of confusion when she saw Traven.  She obviously wasn’t a servant.  She was dressed as richly as Darian’s mother had been in a dark green dress covered with golden designs.  Her hair trailed behind her in hundreds of thin braids that swept forward as she stopped.  It was hard for him to tell the age of an elf, but she appeared to be close to his age.  She had bright green eyes, perfectly smooth skin, and the sharp features distinctive to all elves.  Despite her pointed ears, she was one of the most strikingly beautiful women he had ever seen.

“Excuse me,” she said as she studied him carefully.  “I was under the impression my brother was in here.”