Silevethiel (13 page)

LAEGON WOKE BEFORE FIRST LIGHT, REFRESHED AND ready to begin another day of grueling travel. He stretched, alleviating his muscles from some of the stiffness, when he realized that both of the Guardians were huddled on either side of Irewen.

Worried, he scrambled to his feet and ran to Irewen’s side. “Brégen, quel é dna?” His voice was anxious. “Quel ga lüllerden?”

The Guardian looked up from the princess.
«I do not know,»
he replied. The concern in his unusual eyes penetrated into Laegon’s soul.
«I woke, sensing Silevethiel’s agitation. She had felt Irewen’s presence gradually begin to slip away from her. When Irewen failed to answer, her concern transformed into outright hysteria.»

Brégen’s words sent a shock-wave of emotions through Laegon’s body. “What!” the elf screamed. He was confused, furious, stupefied. But above all, he was frightened.

Irewen’s skin, normally light and fair, was so pale that it almost looked white. Her breaths were extremely shallow and so far apart he found himself counting the seconds after each exhale, praying it hadn’t been her last.

“This cannot be happening,” he whispered in disbelief. He touched her cheek. His heart nearly stopped. Her skin felt cold to his touch. “No, Irewen!” His voice cracked, tears pooling in his eyes. “No! Do not leave me!”

«Laegon, please calm down. Losing control of your emotions will do Irewen no good. Silevethiel believes she has discovered the problem and has come up with a solution, but we are not strong enough to do it on our own. We need your help, and we need your strength.»

Taking a deep breath, Laegon regained control of his emotions. “Tell me what to do,” he replied calmly.

«Silevethiel believes Elthad is taking advantage of his connection to Irewen and is opening up her soul to an evil spirit against her will.»

The Guardian paused to make sure Laegon remained composed before continuing.
«She is resisting, but will not last much longer. Soon, she will lose the battle and will become a Drulaack. She will be our enemy.»

“Mi chül,” Laegon whispered, barely able to form the words.

«We have tried many different shields,»
Brégen explained,
«but none of them have been successful. The only way to save her is for Silevethiel to enter her mind and face the spirit directly. We both know what it was like when you were caught off guard by this horrendous evil. We need to provide her with full protection against this demon. It will not be an easy fight.»

Without a word, Laegon nodded. Calling upon his Sight, he transferred it to Silevethiel. His shields combined with those Brégen had already placed, fortifying the Dame against the harrowing evil that awaited her the moment she entered Irewen’s mind and opened her own to the spirit.

Despite their protections, Laegon felt Silevethiel jolt when the connection was made. Her large body trembled violently as she fought the spirit, doing what she could to drive it away from Irewen’s exposed soul. A shocking roar erupted from her throat. She threw her head back in a rage, her ears pressed tightly against her head. Froth formed at the corners of her mouth. Her vibrant blue irises disappeared completely beneath her bottom eyelid, leaving only the white of her eyes visible.

Laegon transferred every ounce of his strength to the Dame. He gritted his teeth in concentration, ignoring the stinging as drops of sweat fell into his eyes. He felt Silevethiel’s strength diminishing. Screaming inwardly, he mustered the energy to increase the wards protecting the lioness from the evil. Pain wracked his body. Grunting from the strain, he did his best to ignore the spasms ravaging his muscles. His breaths became short and quick. Just as he knew he could not last a second longer, Irewen screamed Silevethiel’s name.

Everything happened at once.

Irewen sat up. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she threw her arms around the Dame’s neck.

Silevethiel’s roar abruptly ended. She swayed slightly before collapsing to the ground.

Brégen sat heavily on the ground, panting laboriously while he tried to gather more strength to aid his fellow Guardian.

Laegon, unsure of anything save the fact that Silevethiel had succeeded, glanced at all three of his companions before he plummeted to the ground, falling into darkness.

•••

The tendrils of darkness shrouded his mind like the black clouds of a storm obstructing the land from every trace of sunlight. Terrified and alone amidst the suffocating nothingness, Laegon saw haunting images flash out of the blackness, destroying his very soul. He thrashed wildly against the evil, doing everything in his power to push away the disturbing visions. Endless time passed as he fought, his determination increasing with each savage stroke, until the images suddenly vanished. Everything fell silent about him.

He stood in the serene darkness, trying to decipher what had happened. He called frantically to his friends, hoping they would hear his desperate plea. But he remained alone in the abyss. What had led him to this foreign world where he now withered like berries left on the vine to shrivel beneath the scorching late summer sun?

With nothing to do and nowhere to go, Laegon waited; he quickly lost all sense of time and place. Memories flickered through his mind, taunting him with the familiarity of a world he no longer expected to see. One by one, his friends appeared before him. Running towards them, he called their names in unmitigated joy and relief, only to find they had been nothing more than a mirage.

Hopelessness and despair filled his heart. He lost the ability to distinguish reality from fantasy. He was in a world that seemingly had no boundaries or restrictions, yet he felt trapped. He could run for an entire lifetime and end exactly where he had started. His life had no direction. No purpose. No meaning.

Death.

The word shot through his conscious as if he’d been struck by an arrow. Suddenly everything made sense. Someone who was devoid of all life’s characteristics couldn’t be living.

Yet, something seemed amiss.

A distant memory tugged at his heart. Nagging incessantly at him. Willing him to remember. Irewen’s voice, muddled and faint, floated through his mind like a leaf drifting aimlessly in the wind. He focused on her voice, struggling to bring her words into focus.

And then he remembered.

Her description of the spirit world rang loud and clear through his mind. This wasn’t the same place Irewen had visited in her dreams. It was dark, yes, but it was not cold. He felt like himself, neither heavy nor weightless, and was not able to move freely through space. He could not sense any other presence, be it one or many. He was alone, and he was very much alive.

Help would eventually come. All he needed to do was to wait.

IREWEN’S SHRILL SCREAM ECHOED THROUGHOUT THE forest. Falling to her knees, she looked from Silevethiel to Laegon in hopeless frustration. One moment, she’d been only seconds away from losing her soul to an evil spirit, and the next, she’d awakened to see her two dearest friends collapse on the ground. Though faint, her connection with Silevethiel remained, but she had no way of knowing if Laegon still lived. She stared at the prince, feeling her apprehension grow as his body remained deathly still.

Both of her friends needed her attention, but she could only give it to one. Her heart was torn. She couldn’t choose one over the other. Paralyzed, confused, and angry, she remained frozen on the ground, kneeling between the bodies of her struggling companions.

A low growl reached her ears. Suddenly remembering Brégen, she turned her attention to the lion. Panting heavily, he sat directly in the center of a large patch of compacted snow. He laboriously swung his head back and forth, drooping it so low to the ground that the dark brown ends of his mane brushed lightly against the snow. She whispered his name, but the Guardian seemed to remain completely unaware of her. Keeping his eyes tightly closed, he continued to sway his head without displaying even so much as a flinch at the sound of her voice.

Deciding he was assisting Laegon, Irewen finally decided to lend her aid, such as it was, to Silevethiel. With a heavy heart, she glanced once more at the elf prince before crawling towards her Guardian. She had only gone a few paces, when a strong booming voice resounded in her mind.

«IREWEN!»

The volume of Brégen’s voice was so intense that she cried out in pain, placing her hands on her head in a feeble attempt to relieve some of the agony.

When the Guardian spoke a second time, his words were much softer and more controlled.
«Forgive me,»
Brégen apologized.
«I am used to Laegon’s strength and had difficulty opening a connection to your mind. Silevethiel’s condition is beyond your aid to heal. I will deal with the Dame. Attend to Laegon. He is unconscious and extremely weak, but he is otherwise unharmed. Do what you can to warm him and coax him back from the shadows.»

“Of course,” she replied softly.

«I have wasted too much energy. Silevethiel needs my full attention. I can speak to you no more.»

“I understand,” Irewen nodded. She placed her hand on her heart in thanks before turning around and making her way towards Laegon.

Lying on his stomach, with his dark brown hair sprawled about his head, the elf still had not moved. But now that she was next to him, she was able to breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of his back lightly moving up and down with each of his shallow breaths. His expression was surprisingly peaceful. She couldn’t help but get the impression he was simply napping in the late afternoon sun.
Focus, Irewen,
she scolded herself.

She studied Laegon’s still body, uncertain of what to do. What had Brégen said? Warm him and coax him back from the shadows. Irewen furrowed her brow in frustration. Keeping him warm was easy enough, but what could she do to persuade him to leave wherever he had strayed?
First things first,
she decided, shaking her head in determination. Warmth.

Knowing of no way to warm someone without a fire— save for blankets and body heat—Irewen quickly unpinned her cloak from around her neck. Placing it on the ground next to the elf, she carefully rolled him onto his side, continuing with the momentum until he was on his back atop the dark blue cloak. She grabbed his cloak, as well as both blankets, and piled them on top of him, before slipping beneath them herself.

She settled on her side and pressed her body tightly against him before resting her head on his shoulder. Draping her arm over his chest, she listened to the beating of his heart while her hand rose and fell with each of his steady breaths. Minutes slowly ticked away as her mind wandered to her second task, that of coaxing Laegon away from the darkness.

Not really knowing what she could possibly do to achieve such a feat, Irewen sang.

Beginning as a soft hum, the notes gradually transformed into her favorite childhood melody. Her clear voice rose amid the trees. It drifted about the crisp winter air, soaring to the heavens and brightening the dismal world like brilliant rays of sunlight. She closed her eyes, throwing aside all inhibitions as the familiar melody continued to flow from her with the sweetness of honey.

Reaching the end of the song, she immediately began another. Hours slowly drifted past. She ignored everything around her and continued to sing. She moved seamlessly from one song to another, overlooking her cramped muscles and completely disregarded her thirst and hunger.

Morning turned into late afternoon. Late afternoon turned into evening, and she sang. All the while, she clung onto the tiny glimmer of hope that Laegon would hear her voice and return from the darkness.

A sweet, yet distant, voice suddenly penetrated the blackness. Laegon immediately recognized it as Irewen’s and willed himself to ignore what he knew to be just another illusion. The melody grew louder. He frantically shook his head, certain he was going mad. He screamed, trying to force Irewen’s voice away, but her singing persisted.

Admitting defeat, Laegon slowly opened his eyes and gasped in shock and wonderment. The brilliant red, purple, and yellow hues of a sunset filtered through the large trees. He saw light. He stared up at the treetops and, realizing they did not belong to the hazy memories that had plagued his mind earlier, he smiled. He’d escaped the darkness. He was awake.

Irewen’s clear silvery voice continued to reach his ears, and he was suddenly aware of the weight of her hand resting on his chest. Warmth radiated from her slender body pressed tightly against his side, driving away the winter chill as it seeped into his bones. Her head moved against him while she sang, her soft curls tickling the folds of his neck. Breathing deeply, he nuzzled his head closer to her, greedily devouring the luscious scent of her skin.

Irewen felt him move. She stopped her singing, her body frozen against his in anticipation and doubt.

“Irewen,” he whispered. “My heart.”

Abruptly, she sat up. “Laegon?” Her voice trembled softly.

“Aye,” he grinned, lifting his hand in a painstakingly slow, yet deliberate motion. He rested his hand behind the nape of her neck and brought her towards him. Her silky black tresses fell about his face like a curtain, sheltering him against the horrors of the world as their lips met.

A warm tingling sensation electrified his body. The kiss lingered and the beating of her heart quickened against his chest. There was nothing in the world but her. He had everything he ever wanted. Nothing else mattered. If death decided to take him then, he would go willingly, knowing he would die the richest and happiest man in the world.

Not wanting the kiss to end, he groaned softly in protest when he felt her pull away. He opened his eyes and once again found himself captivated by her beauty. “Your voice,” he whispered in awe. “Thank you.”

“Brégen told me to coax you back from the shadows,” Irewen replied bashfully. “I did not know what else to do, so I sang. They were only nursery rhymes I remembered from my childhood. They are simple tunes, nothing that can even be compared to the remarkable melodies of the elves.”

Laegon shook his head. “On the contrary,” he said appreciatively, “they were perfect.”

He sat up, grimacing as the memories of that morning rushed into his mind. For the first time since waking, he became aware of Brégen’s constant and familiar presence. He turned around, looking for the Guardian, and discovered him and Silevethiel lying next to each other, sound asleep. He’d never been so proud and honored to have Brégen as his Guardian.
He did it! The stubborn old fool saved her.

Irewen followed his gaze. “They have been sleeping for some time now. There were a few harrowing moments earlier when I did not think Brégen was going to be able to save her. But somehow, he did.”

“Aye, they both need their rest. We all do. We will make no further ground today. Hopefully we will all be ready to set out by mid-day tomorrow. The second group of Drulaack has not yet passed through our borders, but we have lost an entire day of travel. We need to regain as much ground as possible over the next couple of days.”

“What happened?” Irewen asked. Her memories of the events before she awoke to find Laegon and Silevethiel collapse in the snow were muddled. After hearing Laegon’s news of the enemy’s position, she was even more curious to learn what had transpired.

“What do you last remember?”

“The last clear memory I have is yesterday after our evening meal. We had ridden for about an hour when my head and eyes felt extremely heavy, as though weights were pulling them down. I leaned my head back, letting it rest on your shoulder and closed my eyes, thinking I would just take a moment to rest. I must have fallen asleep then, because I do not remember anything that happened afterwards with any degree of clarity. My memories are broken fragments of visions. Good fighting against evil. The next thing I can recall is when I finally awakened this morning shortly after sunrise.”

“At some point through the night, things took a drastic turn. Your memory of good battling evil was accurate. Elthad had taken advantage of his connection to you in order to force your soul to bind to an ancient spirit.”

He paused, allowing the meaning of his words to register in Irewen’s mind. “Silevethiel opened herself to the spirit and confronted the evil, banishing it from your body. Even with both Brégen and me shielding her from the demon’s attacks, the battle was excruciating and torturous. She was able to save you just in time. If you had been exposed to the evil for much longer, you would have become a Drulaack just like your cousin.”

Irewen’s face turned ashen as hundreds of terrifying images suddenly flashed through her mind. The intense pain she’d experienced when the spirit attempted to control her soul was just as excruciating as she relived the memory. She writhed in agony, clutching her chest. A harsh scream leaped from her throat.

Her vision blurred and light-headedness consumed her. She fell towards the thick blanket of snow. It cushioned her fall, wrapping itself around her like someone delicately holding an injured baby bird in the protection of their cupped hands. Beads of sweat covered her forehead; she quickly lost all sense of control.

She didn’t know who she was or where she was, and she didn’t care. She simply wanted the pain to stop.

“Irewen!” Laegon threw aside the thick layer of covers. He grasped the sides of her head in an attempt to force her to meet his gaze. “Irewen!” he repeated frantically. Fear decimated his heart when she showed no inclination that she even heard his voice. Her tormented blue eyes continued to stare past him, focusing on something only she could see.

He had no idea what was causing her such excruciating distress. Everything had happened so quickly. One moment she’d been kneeling beside him. The next minute she was lying on the ground contorted in sheer agony. How could he help her if she couldn’t even give him a clue as to the cause of the problem?

Still grasping her head firmly in his hands, Laegon widened the parameters of his Sight. There was no threatening presence anywhere in their near vicinity.

Abandoning his outward investigation, he let his magic flow through Irewen’s body. He meticulously worked his way from one organ to another, trying to find what was generating such extreme pain. To his horror, he quickly discovered that although almost her entire body was in agony, none of the internal afflictions were the true reason behind her suffering. He furrowed his brow, sighing in intense frustration.

This wasn’t an attack.

His eyes widened in horror as comprehension suddenly manifested within him. Her memories had triggered a reaction to the spirit, much like the one he’d experienced with the Drulaack only the other day. He quickly shielded Irewen as Brégen had done for him almost a week earlier.
How could I have been so blind?
he scolded himself.
I should have been able to recognize her symptoms as being similar to mine. Emotions cannot get in the way of reasoning. Fool.

Irewen finally relaxed. He wiped the glistening sweat from her forehead and increased the strength of the wards until her features had softened completely and her spasms had ceased. He stroked her dark hair, now soaking wet from the sweat and snow, as she smiled in joyous relief.

«Well, that took you long enough,»
Brégen snorted.
«Merciful heaven. I thought I was going to need to convince your father to send you back into training.»

Shocked to hear his Guardian’s voice, Laegon turned to see the lion’s green and brown eyes sparkling mischievously.
«You would never do such a thing,»
the elf retorted.
«Though if I had taken much longer, I would have volunteered for basic instruction myself.»

Brégen walked closer to his two companions and gazed at Irewen with genuine affection.
«I would have prevented you from doing that with every fiber of my being. You never would have made it past my unwavering defenses.»

«You never know. I might have.»

«Humph, I doubt it,»
Brégen scoffed.
«When I am right, which you have been so kind to point out to Irewen is absolutely all of the time, I defend my convictions to the death. You would have withered before me like the flame of a candle deprived of air.»

Staring at the lion, Laegon scowled.
«That is no way to speak to a Protector, especially one who is the Prince of Mistwood.»

«I apologize, my prince,»
Brégen answered with a disgruntled frown,
«provided you realize it is totally insincere.»

Laegon, threw his arms around the Guardian’s neck in a friendly embrace.
«It is good to see you awake, Brégen!»

«And the same to you, Laegon,»
the lion answered happily, nuzzling the side of the elf’s neck.
«I was beginning to think you were faking your condition so the beautiful Irewen would remain snuggled next to you beneath those blankets.»