Soul Seeker (The World of Lasniniar Book 1) (54 page)

“Iarion, what’s going on?” Barlo demanded.

Iarion stood to face his friend. He was not looking forward to what he was about to do.

“It’s over, Barlo.”

“I know. Now we can go back to Dwarvenhome. You can stay with me and the family for as long as you like. Narilga must be worried sick by now.”

Iarion tried to smile. “You will go back to Dwarvenhome, but I will not be able to join you.”

“What are you talking about? You said it was over.” Barlo frowned. “Oh, wait. What was I thinking? You probably want to get together with that elf lass, Finiferia. Well, once you’re done visiting, come on by. Bring her along if you like. We have plenty of room. I know the children are probably missing their Uncle Iarion.”

Iarion was forced to blink back tears. “I’m sorry, Barlo. I can’t.”

“Why not? What, you saved the world and now you’re suddenly too good to be seen with the likes of a dwarf?”

“No! Barlo, don’t be ridiculous. Let me explain. I am connected to the Quenya now. And by reuniting it, I have fulfilled my life’s purpose. I have explained to you before what that means for an elf.”

Barlo’s mouth formed a silent ‘oh’ of comprehension. “So when you say that it’s over, you mean…” Iarion nodded.

“But you need to accept it for anything to happen, right? So just walk away. Come back home with me.”

“And then what? Barlo, I would like nothing better, but eventually I will have to watch you, Narilga, and your children grow old and die while I live on in an empty existence. The only hope I will have of ending it will be if someone manages to kill me. Even then, my soul will be sentenced to oblivion for turning my back on the Quenya. I would become the new Fallen One.”

“But it’s not fair!” Barlo’s eyes shone with unshed tears.

“I know it’s not fair. But this is the way it has to be. Silvaranwyn has helped me see that. Please don’t make this any harder for me than it already is.”

Barlo’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “Fine. I won’t ask you to doom your soul to oblivion on my account.”

“If you really did ask it of me, I would probably consider it.” Iarion smiled. “Barlo, you have been a wonderful friend to me. You have stayed by my side even when things seemed completely hopeless. I would never have been able to do what I have done without you. I want you to remember that.”

“Well, I suppose it’s a good thing you ended up on my doorstep all those years ago with a poisoned arrow in you.” Barlo wiped his nose with the back of his hand with a snort. “You’re my best friend, Iarion. I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

“You will go home to your wife and children, and live a long and happy life. You will become the most prosperous Chief of Clans to ever live and you will be a legend among your people.”

“I did strike quite a deal with Dwarfhaven for their starsilver,” Barlo said with a choked laugh. He threw his arms around Iarion’s waist. “I’m going to miss you, you fool of an elf.”

Iarion gripped his friend’s shoulders. “I am honored to have been your friend.” His cheeks were damp with tears. He knelt beside Sinstari and wrapped an arm around the huge cat.

“Will you do me a favor?” he asked Barlo. Barlo nodded. “Will you take Sinstari with you?”

“If you think he’ll come with me.” Barlo shrugged.

Iarion whispered in Sinstari’s ear. The cat looked at him with his luminous, green eyes and let out a sigh before licking Iarion’s face and padding to Barlo’s side.

“Well that answers that question,” Barlo said.

Iarion felt a sudden weight of purpose settle over him. “It is time.”

The others stepped forward to say farewell. Silvaranwyn had already explained everything to them. No words were exchanged. They were unnecessary. Iarion embraced both Lysandir and Golaron in turn. Lady Iadrawyn curtsied before him in honor of what he had done.

Iarion turned back to wave to Barlo one last time before taking Silvaranwyn’s hand. She looked deep into his eyes, silently asking if he was ready. Iarion nodded. Together, they walked toward the tree that housed the Quenya.

Once they crossed the distance to the opening in its smooth trunk, Silvaranwyn let go of his hand and stood back, waiting. Iarion’s whole life had come to this moment.

Leaning forward, Iarion closed his eyes and surrendered to the light within. He felt the weight that had settled over him lift from his shoulders as he embraced his fate. A sense of wonder filled him as he was overcome with a blissful peace. Even with his eyes closed, he was in a world filled with light. Iarion took one last, deep breath and let it out in a sigh.

The light of the Quenya consumed him.

–
Chapter Fifty-Eight –

Parting Ways

Barlo stood on Traitor’s Road, waiting his turn to say good-bye. They were just south of the Narrow Pass where Iarion had been ambushed all those months ago. Sinstari waited at Barlo’s side. Barlo’s breath came out in plumes. Flakes of snow filtered the weak, afternoon sun. Winter was coming to the midlands.

The Light Elves had held a grand funeral honoring Lord Valanandir, Linwyn, and Iarion. Golaron had even spoken some words about Hidar and his part in the quest. All those who had fallen during the Third War of the Quenya were remembered. Lady Iadrawyn had thrown the borders of Melaquenya open for the event, allowing all surviving mourners to attend. The elves were especially affected by the deaths of Lord Valanandir and Iarion.

Once it was over, all the armies had gone their separate ways with promises to stay in touch. Barlo had sent the dwarves of Dwarvenhome back to their place in the mountains with a message to his wife that he would be home soon. Only the army of Belierumar had stayed.

A week later, Golaron and Silvaranwyn were married. It had been a bittersweet affair. Once the elf princess and her new husband left for Belierumar, she would never be able to return.

Silvaranwyn carried her burden with grace and was a beautiful bride. When the ceremony was over, Golaron had sent his people back to their city, charging them with the burden of Linwyn’s body. She was to be interred in state next to their father.

It was several days before Golaron and Silvaranwyn had set out with Lysandir, Barlo, and Sinstari. They traveled across the Adar Daran in relative silence, each of them lost in their thoughts. Barlo felt numb and lost since Iarion’s death. He was afraid to return home to his wife and children. He didn’t want them to see him this way.

“What will you do now?” Barlo heard Golaron asking Lysandir.

“There is still much I wish to learn.” Lysandir sighed. “First I will go to Mar Arin to investigate a few things and I will probably go to Rasdaria and visit Feoras’s library. Afterward, I wish to go back to Mar Valion. When I escaped from Saviadro’s tower the first time, I was forced to leave many valuable items of magic behind. There are also some books I wish to retrieve. Then I am going to set fire to the place. After that, I will most likely return to take up residence in Mar Arin. I think it is time I settled down for a while.”

“Well, be sure to come visit,” Golaron said. Silvaranwyn nodded her agreement.

“I won’t be far,” Lysandir promised. He turned to face Barlo.

“I am sorry for what this has cost you.” His silver eyes were sad. “Iarion was also a dear friend of mine for many years, quite often when no one else was. But remember that he would want you to move on and live your life in joy rather than sorrow. We were both fortunate to have known him.”

Barlo could only nod at his words. He swallowed a lump in his throat as Lysandir turned to leave, heading west. He never would have thought he would be sorry to see the Learnéd One go.

“You have been a loyal friend and a brave companion,” Golaron said bending over to place a hand on Barlo’s shoulder. “Iarion couldn’t have asked for better. Please bring your family to visit us in Belierumar. You will always be welcome there.”

Barlo reminded himself that Golaron had lost someone too. He forced himself to look up.

“Thank you. Linwyn was an incredible woman. She touched many lives. She will be well remembered.” Golaron nodded his thanks and stepped away for a moment to himself.

Silvaranwyn knelt on the dirt road in front of Barlo. She took both his hands and gently forced him to meet her gaze. Her changed, silver eyes were beautiful, but shadowed with a deep sorrow.

“Barlo, the world is changing. What Iarion did, what we helped him do, it is affecting us all. Thanks to him, the sundering of the elves is over. Now there is no longer a need for Shadow Elves. When they fulfill their current life’s purpose, they will be reborn as Light Elves. We will be reunited once more.”

“What about you?”

“I am unique.” Silvaranwyn looked down. “I have chosen to forsake my heritage to honor the Quenya. Eventually, I will be the only one of my kind. When I finally fulfill my destiny and my life is over, I can only hope I will rejoin my kin, but I do not know for certain.”

She looked up again. “There is something else I need to tell you. Before Iarion died, he reconnected with the Quenya. He also embraced his fate willingly. Because of this, my heart tells me he will be restored to his former self. That means he will eventually be reborn as a Light Elf with a full memory of his previous lives.”

Barlo frowned as the information sank in. Silvaranwyn looked at him expectantly. Barlo’s eyes lit up and he jumped in the air, letting out a whoop of excitement.

“You mean he’ll come back? And he’ll remember me?”

“I believe so.” Silvaranwyn smiled. “But I must warn you, I do not know when this will take place. It may be soon, or it may be a hundred years from now. Although in Iarion’s case, I think it will be sooner rather than later. He has much to come back for.”

“I don’t care if it takes five hundred years. I’m a dwarf! I’m too stubborn to die. But he’d better not keep me waiting too long, if he knows what’s good for him,” Barlo growled before losing control. He was laughing and crying all at once. He threw his arms around Silvaranwyn.

“Thank you.” Barlo let go when he realized he was nearly crushing her.

“Be well, Master Dwarf,” she said as she stood. “And please visit.” She took Golaron’s arm and waved before heading north through the pass.

Barlo wiped the tears from his eyes and sighed. He realized he was grinning. It was time to go home. He realized he was actually looking forward to it. If nothing else, his adventures would make a wonderful story for the children. He looked over at Sinstari, who stared back with blinking, green eyes.

“How am I going to explain all this to Narilga?” He threw his hands in the air before hugging himself in excitement. “I can’t believe he’s coming back.”

Barlo narrowed his eyes. “You already knew, didn’t you?”

Sinstari merely cocked his head to the side. Barlo knew he should have known better than to expect an answer. What was he doing, talking to a cat?

“Bah, never mind. Now come on, you great big lug of a beast. Let’s go home.”

Discover the lost world of Ralvaniar, where dragons, Sea Folk, and blood-drinking demons run rampant.

Enjoy a sneak peak of the prequel to
Soul Seeker
:

LIGHT CHASERS – A Novel of Lasniniar & Ralvaniar

By Jacquelyn Smith

–
Chapter One –

Fire and Water

Valanandir’s throat spasmed as he tried not to choke. He spat out a salty mouthful of seawater, coughing. The unnatural mixture of air and water burned his throat and lungs. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his stinging eyes. He gripped some nearby rigging one-handed and flung out his other arm for balance as the ship rocked beneath him. His vision slowly came into focus.

The sky was completely dark, as it always was. Most of the ship’s lanterns had gone out. As luck would have it, there were other sources of light available, creating a flickering twilight. Enormous forms swooped overhead on dark wings that beat the air like thunder, churning the waters below into a frenzy. Sporadic jets of flame blasted down from above, punctuating the darkness as the serpentine juggernauts made one pass after the other, their long necks and tails writhing. Bright, slitted eyes peered out from scaled faces, picking out their next target. They were
glaurinu
—dragons. Despite the frigid water soaking him to the bone, Valanandir’s skin felt hot. The ship was on fire. Other vessels, already engulfed in flame, lit up the water like torches.

A shocked numbness washed over him as he stood frozen in place, unnoticed for the time being. He wondered if this was what his parents had felt like before they had been killed in battle. According to the stories, they had gone down fighting against the dark army, but his own attackers were hopelessly out of reach.

Would he be remembered as his parents had been? He had no siblings to carry on his memory. The only blood family he had were his aunt and uncle, who would be devastated when they learned his fate. They had always hoped he would stay with them on Arindaria among the fisherfolk of the isle, but the call to follow in his parents’ footsteps had been too strong.