In Dreams
By Pyreite
Chapter 4: Of Bees and Butterflies
Avallac'h placed his hand in hers, uncertain if she'd lead him astray. He was wary when she set her heels on the floor, expecting something strange to happen. She arose with a sense of purpose, tugging on his fingers. He followed her, the bed-frame creaking as the mattress shifted. He was soon on his feet, crossing the bedroom with her hand-in-hand.
They passed tapestries and brocade curtains, walked over handwoven rugs.
A simple way to disguise the mortared walls and granite floors. If he'd had to spend years away from Tir ná Lia. He'd wanted reminders of home. He'd been meticulous about the furniture too. There was a dressing table with an oval mirror, a set of side-tables and an armoire. A bookshelf contained the rest of his scrolls, books and papers.
A desk with an ornate carved wooden chair sat against the far wall.
He'd matched the elegance with a large double bed. He'd once had a companion to fill it, until she'd left for Tir ná Lia in a fury. It hadn't mattered that he'd been running from Eredin, trying to avoid capture and execution. Her jealousy over Zireael had culminated in a row. She'd questioned his devotion, fidelity and his sense of propriety.
Dh'oine were an inferior species unfit for breeding.
Avallac'h took a visceral satisfaction in walking with Ellana. His former paramour would be seething with jealousy if she'd known her birthright. The youngest daughter of Shiadhal, last Queen of the Aen Elle. Lara Dorren's half-sister, a fellow heir of the Elder Blood. A woman as elven as she was, though a little rough around the edges.
He followed when she led him to the doorway. It was there that she paused, glancing back over her shoulder. Avallac'h was wary the instant she regarded him with concern. She warned him about what he would see. He didn't understand what she meant, expecting they'd find the laboratory beyond.
Surely some things in the world of dreams never changed.
"When I open that door", cautioned Ellana. "Things will not be as you expect them too. It'll be a shock, even disorienting. I'm a little different to your usual oneiromancer. You'll soon find out why".
He frowned. "How different?"
"Let's see". She gestured to the closed bedroom door. "Shall we?"
"After you".
She turned the latch, pushing the door open. It swung wide, revealing a meadow filled with wild flowers. Sprigs of yellow, blue, and red blooms bobbed amidst lush swards. Shrubs with small oval leaves dotted the landscape, growing under the sparse trees. Birds sang in boughs laden with white blossoms.
Bees buzzed whilst butterflies fluttered on vibrant black and orange wings.
It was almost too beautiful to comprehend. The wind was cool, the sky a vibrant periwinkle-blue and the sun a golden orb on the horizon. He was bewitched, nostrils flaring as he inhaled the sweetness of honeysuckle. He followed when Ellana crossed the threshold, the heels of her boots clipping the ground. He was surprised to find a path winding through the glade, its cobbles flat, wide and crusted with lichen.
"How is this possible?"
"It's a dream. Mine to be precise. I told you that I wasn't your usual oneiromancer. I can shape my dreams, even share them if I'm so inclined. I'm different to what you're used too, so let this be an introduction to my strangeness".
He didn't like her phrasing. "You're unique not an aberration".
"That's sweet if a tad naive".
He took offence on her behalf, intent on arguing. No daughter of the Elder Blood was a horror deserving of ridicule. He hated how the dh'oine thought of Lara's descendants as cursed creatures. They were magically gifted, but far from the raging lunatics human history had painted them to be.
"It is not naivety!"
Ellana rolled her eyes. "Must you challenge me on everything?"
"I will when you're wrong!" hissed Avallac'h. "You're a daughter of the Elder Blood! A gift to the world! You are not strange by any stretch of the imagination! That is the truth, whether you want to believe it or not!"
She shrugged, capitulating. She knew when to pick her battles. He was an Aen Saevherne that'd spent his life studying her half-sister's genealogy. If she dared counter than they'd be there all night, disputing the relevance of his argument. Better that he stewed in his own frustration than sank his claws in like an aggrieved tomcat.
"If you say so".
Her acceptance sounded more like dismissal. A tactic Zireael had utilised whenever she'd refused to budge on a point of contention. It was neither victory nor defeat, but a middle-ground where neither side agreed. Avallac'h hated being stuck there, though he had little choice. He held his tongue, curbing the desire to spit at her like an irate feline.
"Fine. We'll talk about this later".
"Got a bone to pick?" she teased.
He lifted his nose in the air, refusing to answer.
Ellana smirked, taking her time so he could enjoy the scenery. It was strange to bring him to this hilltop overlooking a tributary of the Minanter river. It flowed through the Free Marches, then out to sea near Wycome along the Amaranthine coast. It'd been a harbour of safety in the quagmire of her past. A place of peace until its destruction during the Veil war.
Avallac'h proved more curious than irritated. "Where are we?"
"In a place I treasured that no longer exists".
That got his attention. "What happened here?"
"This meadow was razed by dragonfire. The trees were alight in moments, the flowers engulfed in flame. I watched it burn from the river below, trapped between the water and the shore. I would've drowned if not for the help of a spirit. She saved my life".
His heart lodged in his throat, tight with anticipation. He wondered if Ellana had meant Lara. He was afraid to ask, lest he be disappointed. He was quiet when she led him across the meadow, the heels of her boots clipping the cobblestones. The rhythmic thud a distraction as he counted her footsteps.
"You're wondering if it was my sister".
He was relieved by her question, though her perceptiveness unnerved him. It was strange to be read like an open book by a woman he barely knew. That Ellana recalled how he'd first reacted to news about Lara shamed him. She'd picked at the wound he'd thought long-healed, tearing it open till it was red and raw again. He was resentful of Lara choosing Cregennan, of the child she'd conceived that should have been his.
"Yes", admitted Avallac'h with a heavy heart. "Can you blame me?"
"You're awfully transparent. You appear self-composed, but there's a lot going on under that handsome exterior. You give the impression that you're indifferent, when in actuality you care a great deal. Something Lara refused to acknowledge once she'd left Tir ná Lia. You loved her, you still do though it's been a hundred years and more since you parted ways".
There was that candid insight, an unnerving facet of her personality. "It's easier".
"I know. Better to present a façade of calm and control, than to reveal that you're breaking on the inside. We all don masks to hide our emotions. I've worn my share over the years to maintain a sense of detachment. What else could I do when the man I loved betrayed me?"
Avallac'h stopped cold, his fingers tightening like a vice. He refused to take another step when Ellana tugged on his hand. His eyes narrowed beneath furrowed brows. He was enraged by the revelation that another had stepped into his place. Again.
His voice was sharp, his tone accusing. "Were you wed?"
Ellana turned around, arching a silver brow. She studied him for a moment, noting the way he scowled as if she'd deceived him. It was refreshing to see his face twist with open hostility. He didn't release her hand, but he eyed her with distrust. He thought she'd strung him along.
"No".
"Was he human?"
"Elven. But before you ask and make this more awkward. He rejected me before our relationship could progress beyond friendship. I was young and mistook infatuation for love. I wanted to marry him and start a family, but he had other ideas".
Avallac'h couldn't believe what he was hearing. "He did?"
"Quite", she confirmed without elaborating upon her failed romance. "We grew apart in the end, going our separate ways. Some decades later I learned that he'd regretted not pursuing me. He said that he'd always loved me. That he'd wanted what I'd wanted, but he hadn't been ready at the time".
"Did you believe him?"
"How could I? More than two hundred years had passed since the day we'd met. I'd grown older, wiser and leerier of men like him. Yet his heart was unchanged. He loved me still, wanted me by his side then assumed that was where I belonged".
It was then that Avallac'h understood, recalling the statuette upon his table. The wolf with eyes like rubies that shone red in the candlelight. She'd spoken not of a beast, but an elven man from her world. A determined hunter that like a wolf, had tracked her for miles in the realm of dreams. The goal to find and retrieve what he'd lost.
"He's the wolf. The one that hunts you".
"That he is", agreed Ellana. "The stubborn, bastard. I wouldn't have fled this far if he hadn't chased me away. I could've returned of my own volition, retaking my body if he hadn't been so possessive. He spurned me like Lara spurned you, which makes him an arsehole".
Her animosity towards this 'other man' pleased Avallac'h. It was an opinion he was ready and willing to encourage. "Your former beau is a hypocrite too. He rejected you than wanted you back. That alone makes him unworthy of you".
"Now there's something we both agree on".
Appeased and reassured, he looked to the world around them. To the trees laden with blooms, the wildflowers swaying on delicate stems. The bees that crawled over petals collecting pollen. The butterflies that flitted from flower to flower. A gentle breeze ruffled his hair, bending thin stalks of grass in an undulating wave.
It was spring encapsulated in a single memory of a place he'd never seen.
"No oneiromancer can dream with this clarity, let alone share it with another. They see the past, the future and foretell what might happen or what did. This place is more than a construct, it's so real it's as if I were there. I can smell the flowers, feel the sun on my skin and the wind in my hair. This is no dreamer's divination".
He looked to her for guidance, overwhelmed and unafraid. It was exciting to be experiencing something new. A side of magic that was as interesting as it was unfamiliar. He felt safe with Ellana as his chaperone. She'd yet to release his hand, careful to keep a hold of him lest he run amidst the flowers.
"May I explore?"
He bounced on the balls of his feet, eager to inspect the trees and the flowers. He tried to stay still, to curb his enthusiasm. It was difficult with so much unknown magic around him. He wanted to touch and taste what he could see. He smiled in relief when Ellana laughed, patting his knuckles.
"Come on then".
They walked amidst the flowers for what seemed like hours. Avallac'h pulled Ellana left and right, pausing often to ask questions. Sometimes he pointed to an unfamiliar plant, asking after its properties. Other times he wanted to stand still long enough to inhale the clean fresh air. It was later when they sat together in the grass, that he gestured to the world around them.
"It this place a dream or a memory?"
"Both", replied Ellana. "This is how it was before it was burned to ash. A quiet place on the edge of a forest, upon a hill overlooking a river that flowed out to sea. I could always smell the salt on the air, and hear the gulls squawking as they flew to the coast. I'd camp out here for weeks, passing my days hunting, fishing and sleeping in the sun".
"It sounds restful".
She gave him a sharp look. "Don't do that".
"Do what?" asked Avallac'h.
"Judge. I can tell that you think me lying about on my arse was a waste of time. Respite isn't something you do. Is it? You're always reading, researching and seeking answers to whatever mystifies you".
"I am of the Aen Saevherne".
"An elven sage. I know".
He'd been polite thus far, his questions mundane rather than pointed. She appreciated his restraint, though she knew he was as inquisitive as a cat. It was a surprise that he hadn't yet clawed her to pieces in his excitement. He wanted to learn more about her, to understand how she fitted into his world. She snorted when he gave her a pleading look.
"Go on then. Ask".
Avallac'h grinned in earnest, enthused by her willingness to indulge him. "I have so many questions".
"Start with something small".
"How are you able to recall a memory, relive it and share it with another in a dream?"
"Among my father's people, I'm known as a somniari", explained Ellana. "A mage that can dream of the past, but can't foretell the future. We don't divine as an oneiromancer can, but we're able to travel the Fade at will. The space between worlds that connects all places and times. It's not navigable without a guide, but somniari have an excellent sense of direction".
He inhaled a shuddering breath. "The Spiral", he intoned in awe. "A sense of direction? You got lost. You said that Lara found you wandering the Fade. Was she your guide?"
"For the most part until she tried ordering me about. It didn't go well".
"No", he chuckled. "It wouldn't have. You're as strong-willed as she was, but enough about Lara. I'm more interested in learning about you. How do you enter the Fade?"
She proved forthcoming, much to his appreciation. "Most sominiari do so while unconscious".
"But not you?"
She went quiet, reflecting on her past. The perilous events that she'd survived. The evils that she'd conquered and overcome. The lives that she'd saved. The titles of rank and status that'd shaped her like clay on a potter's wheel.
She'd understood who she was until the day everything had changed.
"I'm a special case".
Avallac'h kept pace, beat for beat. "How special?"
"Somniari have to be asleep to enter the Fade, but I can do so while awake. I can also shape it into anything I want it to be. A place, a person, a creature, or a thing. I have to know what I'm trying to shape, otherwise it doesn't work. The Fade reflects like a mirror, so it's limited by my own experience".
"Shape it? How?"
"Well simple things are easy with a little practice. It gets harder if I force something into a new shape. But a change of colour isn't that difficult. I'll show you. Watch".
Ellana lifted her bare right-hand into the air. A butterfly fluttered over, abandoning its flower to alight upon her fingers. It fanned its wings, that bright orange darkening to a ruddy blood-red. The black spots and lines were blue then green before turning black again. It wasn't until the butterfly took flight that he noticed the sun reflecting off its scales.
He saw flashes of iridescence in blue, green and purple.
"A d'yaebl aép arse".
She gave him a strange look. "Did you proposition me?"
Avallac'h stared at her. "What?" He blinked, eyes widening in alarm when he recalled what he'd said. "Oh! No! It's an expression in Hen Llinge, the Elder Speech of the Aen Seidhe".
She wasn't convinced. "What does it mean?"
He was reluctant to tell her. The Elder Speech contained enough epithets to make a maiden blush. He didn't want to make the wrong impression on Ellana. The language of the Aen Seidhe was more colourful than Ellylon. He'd been discomforted enough by her demonstration to swear without thinking.
Only certain foul-mouthed scoia'tael were that vulgar.
"It's rude and offensive. I'd rather not provide a translation".
He was relieved when Ellana relented. "Fine. If you won't translate that in the common-tongue. Can you tell me what 'Elaine blath' means? I thought you'd called me an ugly turnip or a pile of horseshit".
Avallac'h was offended on principle. "That is not what I said!" He soon realised that she'd been teasing him. She grinned from ear-to-ear, the green of her eyes twinkling. He got the joke when she winked at him with the mischievousness of a woodland sprite.
"It means – Beautiful flower".
"It does?"
He didn't like her tone. "Why is that so surprising?"
She tucked several strands of silver hair behind a pointed ear. The movement stiff and mechanical, rather than shy. She didn't blush as if she were flustered. She exhaled a weary sigh as if there was an underlying insecurity. The way she glanced at the toes of her boots, rather than look at him seemed confirmation enough.
Ellana lacked confidence in herself.
"I've never been pretty or soft and feminine. I grew up wearing breeches, not gowns and petticoats. I've never worn cosmetics, or learned to apply them. I was taught how to shoot arrows, to hunt and fight with a blade. I can track a deer a thousand miles, not dance a jig or spin in a circle with skirts twirling".
"You're Lara's opposite, but quite like Zireael", declared Avallac'h. "She was born into privilege, but her life changed the day Nilfgaard invaded Cintra. Her guardian taught her the skills she'd need to survive on her own. Yet before she met him, she did a fine job of looking after herself. You've got the same hardiness she had, though I suspect your story is more complicated".
"It is", she agreed. "I wasn't born into privilege. My father's not a King".
"Were you a vagrant?"
"Nomad. My people wandered the lands and forests of my world. We lived in clans, never staying in one place for long. It was dangerous to do so. Humans were never fond of elves, nor we of them".
"That is unsurprising. Although I suspect there is more to your tale. Would you share it with me?"
"No".
"Zireael didn't trust me either. I can live with that, though I'd like to change your mind".
"Give it time".
He was quiet for a moment, observing her as he'd once observed Zireael. Ellana didn't fill the silence with idle gossip, or fidget like a child. She was comfortable enough to sit and stare at the grass. He wondered what she saw in those thin blade-like leaves. He soon found out when a sward sprouted pale flowers with six petals in the shape of a star.
It was Evermind that grew on the cairns of the dead.
"I suspect that making flowers bloom is the least of your abilities".
She was wary of him, never raising her eyes. "Why do you say that?"
"If a somniari can share and shape dreams. If theirs is a magic utilised only when they're asleep. Than you're a rarity among the mages of your world. If you can shape the Fade while awake or asleep, than in your hands the fabric of Space and Time is malleable. Zireael can travel between worlds, but she can't alter matter with a thought".
"So I changed the colour of a butterfly's wings", said Ellana. "I made the grass flower too. It's not a grand alteration. The butterfly is still a butterfly. The grass is still grass".
Avallac'h disagreed. "Even small changes can prove significant. You know that or you wouldn't have been so cautious. I assume that you could've turned the butterfly into a bee. Or the flower into a tree. You didn't because you have a sense of restraint".
Ellana didn't like how insightful he was. "I have too".
"Why?"
"It's easy to break things, but it's harder to fix what's broken".
"You're speaking from experience. From the tone of your voice. It was a terrible lesson to learn. You regret it. That much is clear".
It was odd to hear it a second time, even if the voice was different. Her estranged beau had drawn the same conclusions. His astonishment had turned to anger than accusation. He'd asked questions, demanding answers she couldn't provide. Then there'd been raised voices, flaring tempers and a blazing light so bright it'd burned.
She tensed, going quiet.
Avallac'h called her name, once then twice. He was worried when her eyes closed. She trembled as if she were afraid, the world about them changing in response. Shadows passed overhead, engulfing the meadow in a dreary greyness. The wildflowers wilted, turning brown and brittle as the clouds swallowed the sun.
The breeze once refreshing cooled till he was exhaling white fog.
He trembled in the chill, his skin goosepimpling with unease. The thin stalks of the grass grew fine hair-thin thorns that stuck into the seams of his breeches. He rose to his feet, escaping the painful prickling that threatened to pierce his boots. He was wary when he spied a butterfly in the grass, twitching as if in the throes of death. Its wings pierced by long thistles.
He glanced around the meadow, spying more sparks of colour.
They were easy to pick out amidst the throngs of dying bees. He heard their mournful droning, reminded of fat blowflies buzzing about a corpse. He was afraid when thunder roared on the horizon. He studied the sky, seeing it darken from periwinkle-blue to burnt umber. Even the birds had gone quiet before the approaching maelstrom.
"Ellana", he called, voice filled with trepidation.
She stirred at the sound of her name, shivering in the cold. Her eyes opened, though her irises were glazed and unfocused. Her face cracked like an eggshell, thin fissures ran along the curves of her temples, cheeks and chin. Fine sand-like flakes crumbled away to reveal the curling lines of her vallaslin. It was painted upon her skin, flashing white than silver as if aflame.
"Ellana?"
Her brows furrowed as if she were struggling to concentrate. Avallac'h was fearful that he might be caught in something dangerous. She'd warned him that one could drown in a dream, that it was perilous without protection. He took a step forward, planting his boot in a patch of thistles. Each had thorns as long as his thumb, though to his amazement the prickly leaves turned aside.
The thorns ceased to poke him, leaving an inch-wide gap around his ankles.
He made his way to Ellana, reaching for her with steady hands. He cupped her face, palms warm against her bare cheeks. Her lashes fluttered, the glassiness in her eyes fading as her pupils dilated. She blinked at him, confused as if she were coming out of a daze. He was startled when she recognised him, her smile dazzling in its gladness.
Lara had never been that happy to see him.
"Avallac'h".
He stroked her cheeks, careful to avoid the silver-white lines. He recalled the danger of the warding spell disguised as a series of intricate tattoos. It was pretty against the bronze of her skin, a lovely contrast with the silver of her hair. Yet it glowed like a lantern in the night, bright then dark until the magic stabilised. The silver was vivid, the lines a pristine white.
He wasn't a stranger to this brand of magic, though he'd never seen this kind of spell.
"Your vallaslin is back".
She lifted her right-hand to her face, running the pads of her fingers over her cheek. It was almost as if she didn't believe him until something sparked. It was as if she'd touched a woollen blanket than a metal pole. The resultant charge, although small was enough to bite. She jumped in surprise, cursing in that strange bird-like language.
"Fenedhis!"
The word sounded vulgar. Avallac'h wondered if she'd translate, though he knew better than to ask. Ellana didn't trust him. He hoped to change her mind. He focused instead on the matter at hand.
"Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine if a little addled", she replied, shaking her head as if to clear it of cobwebs. "You reminded me of something I'd forgotten. I'd once argued with the prick hunting me. We quarrelled then there was an explosion. I broke something belonging to him".
"An explosion?"
"There was a brightness that burned. I set myself aflame, it gets foggy after that. I don't remember what happened, but I know he was there. He snapped and snarled like a wolf, baring his teeth as if to bite me. So I bit him instead".
Avallac'h put the clues together, paling at the thought of angering a daughter of the Elder Blood. He'd seen Zireael lose control of her magic, opening a portal into the void. Her screams had reverberated across Space and Time, her anguish deafening and destructive. She'd shaken the ruins of Kaer Morhen down to its foundations.
"How badly?"
Ellana grimaced. "Bad enough for him to brand me". She gestured to the pale lines of the vallaslin upon her face. "He's the reason I have a warding spell on my skin. He's got my body sealed away somewhere, or he's trying to contain whatever I did".
"Magically?"
"I don't know".
Avallac'h swallowed, paling at the prospect that she might've done something terrible. After what he'd seen Zireael do, it was easy to assume the worst. He'd found bits of the Red Riders scattered across ten worlds. Their corpses torn apart by the forces of Space and Time. If Ellana had done something similar, he pitied the man that'd followed her across the Fade.
"That doesn't sound like a tear in the fabric of Space and Time. Nor does it sound like a portal left open to another world". He thought for a moment, reflecting on what she'd told him. "If you caused an explosion, than you might have unlocked more of these foci. Perhaps several at once to warrant the branding of a binding seal on your skin".
She blinked, comprehension dawning. "Oh".
"Oh?"
"So that's what I broke. I'd wondered why he was mad at me".
It was a relief when the sky lightened, the clouds returning as the sun shone overhead. The dreariness receded till the garden of Ellana's dreams was wild, bright and green again. The chill in the wind lessened, warming till it reminded Avallac'h of cool evenings in spring. The scent of honeysuckle filled the air. The flowers bobbed in the breeze, soft petals delicate as a whisper of silk.
The bees and butterflies buzzed and fluttered groggily as if waking from slumber.
Avallac'h was unsettled, despite the pleasantness around him. The inch long prickles were gone, leaving bare blades of grass. Each lengthy stalk swaying, but never again sprouting thorns. It was calm, a façade of stillness in the midst of a storm. He'd seen Ellana bend the meadow to her whim, its existence altered by the depth of her emotions.
If she could shape the fabric of Space and Time, he was afraid of what catastrophe she might cause. Her unlocking of mystical objects full of latent magical energies worried him. If she could do that and open portals incapable of closing. The consequences could be disastrous across worlds and between them. He was wary when she broke that tense uncomfortable silence.
"You're afraid of me".
"You're a danger like Zireael".
"To whom?"
"Everyone".
"I know it", she stated, agreeing with him. "Although you've less to fear than most".
He frowned, troubled by her words. He was uncertain if it was a statement or a warning. Ellana had a mercurial side to her that belied the mentality of a soldier. She might've dressed in leather and steel, but her perception of the world didn't exist in straight lines. There was no good versus evil, no right and wrong.
She had a rogue's perception of reality, where all things were in shades of grey.
"Why?" he demanded. "Lara never sought to spare my feelings. She wedded Cregennan of Lod, bore his child then died soon after giving birth. Once he'd learned she'd expired, the Alder King sought my execution. I'd failed to recover her alive, though I tried yet she refused to return to Tir ná Lia".
Ellana acknowledged his claims, but refused to accept his excuses. "I know. You tried to help her and her child, but she feared you'd alert Eredin and the Red Riders. So she used what strength she had left to open a portal. She blasted you through it with a lightning spell".
Avallac'h remembered the white-hot pain, the smell of burning hair and linen. He was shaking when she nodded as if to affirm his suspicions. No one knew of his last encounter with Lara Dorren, but hours before she'd perished in the cold. She'd doubted him then, refusing to see reason as she feared he'd betray her to Eredin. The thought had never crossed his mind, though it'd occurred to Lara with her daughter in her arms.
"Did she tell you?"
"I dreamt of it". She considered him for a moment. "Should I show you?"
"Yes".