I wrote this because Elfangor's entire story always saddened me. I always wanted him to stay with Loren and raise Tobias so he wouldn't end up with a neglectful uncle, but I always felt sorry for his Andalite family, too. Poor Noorlin and Forlay had to deal with Elfangor's first unexplained disappearance as an aristh, then his death years later as a Prince. And to top it all off, their second son went missing and was stranded on Earth for three years. This poor couple must be the experts on dealing with loss and worry.
I used Forlay's point of view because I felt it was unfair that neither of Ax's parents were really ever mentioned. Noorlin had a couple of lines in the eighth book, but all we get about Forlay is her name. And then Elfangor mentions in The Andalite Chronicles that she worries about him fighting in the war, but that's it. I once held hope that the last book might include Ax's reunion with his parents or perhaps have the other Animorphs meeting them, but that didn't happen.
Oh, and I don't own Animorphs.
The spaceport was never busier than the day my son came home. Of course, I had stood there for hours, watching the ships come and go, willing each ship to be the one that would bring my Elfangor home. Beside me, my husband, Noorlin, continually shifted his weight from one hoof to another in a display of anxiety.
Is this the one? I asked him as a Dome ship came into view.
Noorlin squinted at it. No, Forlay, that's the WarTree. Elfangor should be on the StarSword. His voice still held unbelief. Hearing that our beloved Elfangor still lived had been a miracle, but after so long, neither of us could really believe it was true.
I wonder what's taking so long, I said, and Noorlin reached for my hand.
He will get here, Forlay, my husband promised. He is coming home to us. He is. We'll be a family again. You, me, Elfangor, and the little one. He gestured toward my belly, where our second child lay, safely tucked away inside me and not lost in the dark abyss of space.
I nodded, but I in my mind I kept seeing a warm, sunny day. After several weeks' worth of rain that had us spending most of our time inside the scoop, the sunshine was a welcome relief. Noorlin decided to go for a run, and I had a perfect opportunity to transplant those yellow flowers I had been caring for in little pots for over a month. I got to work, carefully digging up the pink blossoms that I had planted around the scoop years prior—I planned to move them to a little spot I'd been trying to cultivate down by the stream—and replacing them with the yellow ones.
Digging up the pink blossoms took longer than I anticipated. Noorlin returned from his work just as I packed the dirt around the first delicate yellow flower.
Can I help?
I turned a stalk eye toward him, still focused on my work. Certainly. See all those holes? That's where the old flowers were. And where the new ones are going.
Elfangor will barely know this place, Noorlin remarked as we worked, side by side. You've changed it so much since he left. Not that it doesn't look nice, he added quickly.
I doubt he would even notice, I said. The boy has no appreciation for the finer points of landscape art. I hope our next one is a girl, if we ever get the Electorate's approval. We had been applying for permission to have a second child since Elfangor had become old enough to go to the Academy.
And what happens if she doesn't like landscape art?
That won't happen. She'll be a female, so she won't be distracted with all this war and tail-fighting that keeps you males so preoccupied.
Noorlin laughed. Maybe so, he allowed. He looked like he would say more, but the lights on our small communications array began to blink.
Incoming communication, the thought-speak notifier said. Andalite Dome Ship StarSword.
I ran to the communicator without bothering to set down the plant in my hand. Elfangor usually sent his communications once every two weeks, and we had spoken to him last week. I hoped he wasn't sick or anything. Maybe there was good news. Maybe he had been promoted to a full warrior. Noorlin followed me, chuckling at my excitement.
I clicked a small button to the side of the communications array, and a small holographic screen appeared. It was dark at first, but quickly began to light up. First I could make out the eye stalks, then the ears, and by then I didn't have to look at the face for my hearts to sink into my hooves.
The Andalite on the screen was not Elfangor.
Noorlin-Sirinial-Cooraf and Forlay-Esgarrouth-Maheen, greetings, said the Andalite who was not Elfangor. This is Captain Feyorn-Mazarouth-Coman, of the Dome ship StarSword, where your son was stationed as an aristh.
Is he all right? Noorlin asked, staring at the screen with all four sides.
Captain Feyorn sagged a bit, but quickly regained his professional posture.
No.
I'm afraid I must give bad news, he said.
No.
Both arisths were sent on what should have been a short mission, returning two aliens to there home after they had been taken from the Skrit Na. They were supervised and should have returned within a few days' time. However-,
He's not dead, is he? I blurted. I had to know.
No one knows, Forlay-Esgarrouth-Maheen. The one adult with them was captured by Yeerks, but we haven't a trace of either of the two arisths.
No, no, no!
Are you saying you lost him? I demanded, whipping my tail forward as if I could strike the Andalite on the screen. You lost my son?
I am deeply sorry, Forlay-Esgarrouth-Maheen. We are sending out as many warriors as we can spare to search for them. I will be speaking to the War Council soon, so they can form their own search parties. We are doing the best we can to locate our two missing arisths, but I must warn you that the situation looks bleak.
My whole body felt heavy, as though I could barely hold myself up. My Elfangor, gone. Lost in space. My sweet baby. I would have given anything to know where he was.
What are the odds that he was captured by the Yeerks? Noorlin asked, and a fresh panic filled my belly. I had heard stories of what it was like to be a Controller, a prisoner in your own body.
We have only confirmed one capture, the Captain said. I could stand no more of this. My whole body tensed, and I could barely breathe. Unable to listen to Captain Feyorn's report any longer, I turned and fled. I ran as hard as I could, pushing myself faster and faster, sobbing, until I stumbled and fell to my knees. I lay there, crying inside my hearts as Andalites do.
ELFANGOR! I cried out to the sky. Where are you? Where are you? Suddenly I couldn't picture his face, and I panicked again, seized by a desire to see him, to pet his head like I had when he was little. Maybe if I closed my eyes and opened them again, I would wake from this nightmare and Elfangor would be next to me, safe and sound and whole, and I'd go about my day and forget this dream ever happened.
By the time Noorlin found me, I had cried myself hollow. Forlay, my love, he said gently.
What if he's gone? I asked. What if we never see him again?
Oh, Forlay, my husband said. I had never heard such sadness in his voice. All we can do is hope. I'm going to try and see if I can get assigned to one of the search parties Captain Feyorn is trying to organize. See if I can find Elfangor and bring him home.
Somehow, the idea that Noorlin planned to go after him comforted me a great deal. Ours had been an arranged marriage, and I had spent years worrying what my marriage life would turn out to be. But he was patient and considerate of me, and I soon realized how lucky I was. Noorlin made a good husband. And when Elfangor was born, Noorlin had thrown himself into fatherhood with such gusto that it used to make me laugh. He made little toys for our son and taught him the easy basics of tail fighting even if I felt he was far too young. He loved being a father, and I knew he loved Elfangor. I knew he wouldn't give up until he had found him.
I stood on shaky hooves. I just hope it's not too late, I said. My husband wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. Please don't be too late.
True to his word, Noorlin left with the first search party. I spent many long nights alone, hoping and wishing. I tried to stay positive. At first, I managed. Friends who came to visit remarked on my upbeat attitude and hopeful smile, while I merely repeated my mantra that I could only hope.
Close friends organized a vigil, to which most of the neighbors came. At least sixty Andalites gathered around Elfangor's guide tree and performed a ritual for his health and well-being. There I met the mother of the other missing aristh.
I am Lanyin-Arepth-Stranth, she said to me. My son, Arbron, is missing as well. How are you holding up?
I am managing, I said. Though I can barely leave the scoop. I wait and watch our communications array for hours, and every time it blinks, I jump at it.
I understand. Lanyin gave me a sad, sympathetic smile. Every time I answer and it isn't Arbron, I just want to cry. It's so frustrating, all this waiting.
And the not knowing. That's what's going to kill me.
Lanyin took my hand. All we can do is hope, she said, leading me over to the guide tree. Together, we performed the ritual again.
May you grow strong, I began.
Lanyin joined after. May you be wise.
May you always have hope and love.
May your family always be there for you, and you for them.
But most of all, we intoned together, in perfect sync, May you always have hope.
Noorlin returned a few days later. I nearly cried again when I saw him alone.
We have a lead, he announced when he saw me. The ship was found. The Jahar. There are records in the computer of a strange energy signal from a Skrit Na ship. Very strange. Like nothing we've ever seen before, he said. They must have gone to investigate. If we could track down that ship…
And then what? I asked. Ask the Skrit Na where my son is?
They might know where he was headed next, Noorlin said. They're making me rest for a couple of weeks, but I'll be back out with the next search party.
He only stayed home for a week before leaving me alone again, and again, and again. The waiting drove me crazy. My son had been missing for at least six weeks now, and all sorts of scenarios began to plague me. What if he had avoided Yeerk capture…by killing himself? What if he was stuck in morph as some alien creature that only lived for a few years? What if he was stranded on some planet and didn't have the technology to call for help? What if it wasn't the Yeerks, but some other alien species, that captured him and tortured him? I had no answers.
We heard news about the infestation of Alloran-Semitur-Corrass, the adult Andalite who had accompanied Elfangor and Arbron. The idea sickened me. I couldn't help but wonder if Elfangor had been there when it happened.
Then, there was news that the new Andalite-Controller had climbed the ranks very quickly, and was proving to be a thorn in the side of our military. The search parties began to dwindle as more Andalites were needed in the battle. Soon, only Noorlin and a few other veterans remained, and they were eventually ordered to disband as the military needed those ships.
Noorlin was furious. All they care about is that infernal war! he yelled. I should have tried to calm him, but I just didn't have it in me.
I'm never going to get him back, am I? I asked the night sky. Though my hearts ached, I did not cry. I was too far gone to cry.
On the one-year anniversary of Elfangor's disappearance, I planted flowers of all different colors around Hala Fala. I pressed my forehead against the guide tree and confided all my hopes and fears. I wanted my only child home, but I didn't know where he was. I feared something terrible had happened, but could only hope he was okay somewhere.
I was running out of hope.
Unable to continue his search, Noorlin began tracking the news. As a retired warrior, he had access to a few secure channels. He spent his days in front of the computer, continually gleaning for information.
Another year passed. And then another. A tacit agreement made the mention of Elfangor's very name a taboo between us.
One more year.
Noorlin and I began to argue. Small arguments at first—he didn't like one of my landscaping projects, I didn't like his attitude about it—but they escalated soon enough.
You spend far too much time on that computer, I told him one day, when I was just sick and tired of hearing about battles and Yeerks and everything except Elfangor.
Noorlin, who had barely turned a stalk eye toward me in the past few days, turned to face me with his main eyes. Forlay, he said harshly, I am trying to find our son. What are you doing? Why are you not helping with this?
Noorlin, it isn't working, I said. Believe me, if I thought it would help-
Do you have ANY idea how hard I have been searching? Do you miss him at all? I have given all of my time to finding him, while you plant flowers and talk like he is dead!
He may very well be dead, I snapped. All because you wanted him to follow after you. I never wanted him to join the military, never, but did either of you listen? You were the one who filled his head with all these dreams of being some kind of hero!
Noorlin's tail rose almost two feet higher, as though he wanted to strike me. I knew he wouldn't, but still, it frightened me. Don't you dare try to pin this on me, Forlay. Elfangor is not dead. He is NOT DEAD!
His words resounded in my head. I wanted to believe them. But I just couldn't. After all this time, if he were alive he would surely have found a way to contact us. It would almost be easier to discover him dead than to live with this uncertainty.
One more year.
Noorlin and I were finally approved to have another child, and though we were no longer sure we wanted one, we didn't waste the chance. I discovered my pregnancy two months after we were given the clear, and I told Noorlin straightaway, rather than waiting and playing coy as I had done when pregnant with Elfangor, forever ago.
He didn't jump with excitement this time, but he gave me a smile. Are you still hoping for a daughter? he asked.
I wouldn't mind another son, I told him. Our eldest—wherever he is—is too far away to mother him.
Wouldn't it be wonderful if he could be a part of this? Noorlin asked, turning a stalk eye toward my belly. He doesn't even know, wherever he is, that he's a brother now.
Maybe one day he'll know, I whispered. I wish he were here now.
At that very moment, the communicator's lights began to blink. Incoming communication. Andalite Dome Ship StarSword.
We both froze. I felt as though a jolt of lightning had torn through me. The StarSword, after all this time? Could it be…? I asked Noorlin, who shook himself out of his funk first and ran to the communicator. Like before, the dark, static image appeared, then the face of Captain Feyorn came into view.
This time, he was smiling.
Noorlin-Sirinial-Cooraf and Forlay-Esgarrouth-Maheen, greetings, he said. I am so pleased to have much happier news for you this time.
Is it him? Is it Elfangor? Did you find him? I blurted out. After all these years, if they had found him…
Warrior Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul is currently being treated in our ship's infirmary. He was injured in the last battle and is still under heavy sedation, but our doctors are certain he will fully recover.
They have him on the ship. He's there. They know where he is.
He's alive! I told you, Forlay, I told you he was alive! Noorlin's face broke out in a grin. How long until we can see him, Captain Feyorn?
It may take a few months to reach home, if the current Z-Space pattern holds accurate, the captain said. A few months was not what I wanted to hear. He may as well have told me to wait an eternity. But I had waited this long, so maybe a few months wouldn't kill me. Still, I had one more question.
Where was he? I asked the captain.
Captain Feyorn smiled, but he waved his stalks in a "who knows" gesture. You'll have to ask your son that, he said. It doesn't make sense to anyone on this ship. He just appeared, out of nowhere, on a fighter, up against Visser Three. And no one has any recollection of him arriving. He was just…there.
The answer was confusing at best, but I didn't care. I'd spent many an hour wishing he would just appear out of nowhere, and I didn't question it.
I waited another six months before Feyorn contacted us again to say that the StarSword had less than a day to reach our planet. He gave Noorlin his estimated time of arrival, and we began preparing our scoop to leave for the port. I worked in a frenzy, eager to be gone, and Noorlin began to tease me.
You know, if we arrive early, it won't make the StarSword arrive early, he said. You'll still have to stand and wait.
Yes, but I'll stand and wait there just as easy as I will here. Oh, Noorlin, can you believe it?
You act like you're preparing for a newborn, and not a grown son, he said. But he understood. I knew he did.
We arrived at the space port several hours later, and Noorlin's prediction came true—I had to stand and wait, even though I was filled with nervous energy. What if he was still hurt? What if he wasn't the same? How much would he have changed?
Forlay. Noorlin pulled me back out of my thoughts. Look. There it is. The StarSword.
I see it! Grasping my husband's hand as tightly as I could, I ran forward, as close as I was allowed to the ship. Together, we watched that beautiful, majestic ship touch down. There was a soft crunch as the ship settled into its cradle, and the stabilizers glowed faintly blue before the ship powered down.
The door opened, and Andalite warrior after Andalite warrior streamed out, into the arms of waiting families. Noorlin's hand squeezed mine so tightly that I wondered if I should tell him he was hurting me, until I realized I was probably hurting him just as much. And then, as if out of a dream, there he was.
He was older, a good bit taller, and walked with a bit of a limp. He had a sling on his left arm, and he walked slowly and carefully, so as not to jostle any of his wounds. But, as a mother, what really hurt was the deep, sorrowful look in his eyes.
Elfangor! I cried. Over here! Oh, Elfangor!
He turned in our direction and smiled. I released Noorlin's hand. Nothing could keep me from him at this point, nothing. I ran to my son's side and buried head in his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat, that beautiful reminder that he was alive.
Mother, he said softly, in a voice that cracked. You have no idea how much I've missed you.
Okay, maybe I shouldn't have ended it there. I'm open to suggestions if anyone can think of a better ending. Any feedback is appreciated!