Leareth awaited Vanyel's answer. He had told Van he would be able to raise Tylendel back from the dead, that they could rule together—but Van knew it was a lie. Tylendel was Stefen; he didn't know if Leareth knew he was lying, or if Leareth knew that Van knew that he was lying.
Van had probed Leareth's shields, and knew, with a cold certainty, that he would never be able to defeat this evil, dark mage. Leareth sucked node-energy from other mages—he would never tire. And Vanyel would die alone, and for nothing; Leareth would take control of Valdemar—
And then hoofbeats, bell chimes that rose to greet his ears, wiping away the remembrance of Leareth's words. Yfandes was there, tail stump held high, bugling her defiance to a now wide-eyed Leareth.
:I told you I would never leave you when I Chose you,: 'Fandes, his wonderful Companion, told him.
And Vanyel knew, knew he now had enough strength to fight Leareth, node energy combined with his Companion's strength. He wrapped an arm around 'Fandes' neck, and stared straight into Leareth's black, cold eyes. He lept onto Yfandes' back, burying his hands into her mane. Calmly, and coldly, and determinedly, he replied to Leareth with one word. "No."
Leareth's eyes widened in anger, and he raised his hands, but Vanyel didn't care for that. With all of Yfandes' strength and love boosting the node-energy flowing into him, he gathered all the raw energy he could muster and threw it at Leareth, channeling it through himself. Raw magic burned within him, and he cried in pain and anguish—and in triumph.
He could not feel his body, it was gone. He could see where it had been, and wasn't anymore. Yfandes' body was gone too, although he felt her presence, 'beside' him. A smoking pile of ashes was all that remained of Leareth. And as silver mists closed around his strange vision, he had the feeling of complete triumph. The feeling that he had accomplished something. Accomplished something that would ensure Valdemar's safety. He had won! Stefen would get to the Guard in time, and the armies of Valdemar would turn back Leareth's. His last view as the mists finally obscured his vision completely was of everything paused, standing still. Everything was still as he let himself sleep...
***
"So, Herald Vanyel, you have accomplished your one goal: you have vanquished the enemy who has ruled your nightmares for years, and you have ensured Valdemar's safety."
Vanyel blinked, and found himself lying on a path somewhere, wreathed in the same silver mist he remembered from when he cast a Final Strike on Leareth. He felt younger, pain-free, and he looked down, and discovered himself clad in pristine Whites. He stood up, and his eyes met two strangely familiar ones. Eyes of a blazing sapphire light. This was the Shadow-Lover. He smiled as Vanyel recognized him. Once again, Death was wearing Heraldic Whites.
Vanyel bowed his head. "What now?" he asked, curiosity creeping in his voice. "Is there anything to be done, now that I am ... dead?"
Out of the mist came a very familiar snort and the sound of bell chimes; Companion's hooves. He turned to see Yfandes appear out of the mist, and suddenly, she wasn't there. In her place was a blue-eyed, brown haired woman about his age or older, a sad smile on her face. She wore, like Van and Death, Whites. She was Yfandes... had to be...
"When a Herald dies, they have ... choices," replied the Shadow-Lover, nodding acknowledgement at Yfandes, who made a short bow in return. "They can return to Valdemar, as a Bard, or a Healer, or a Herald. They will have no past-life memories. They can also come back as Companions."
"Grove-born?" queried Vanyel, but the Shadow-Lover shook his head. "No, the so-called 'normal' kind, though no Companion can be 'normal'. Like Yfandes. They will have past-life memories. They can always go to the Havens; they do not have to return. Companions have the same choices after, like Heralds.
"But you, Vanyel, you are the last Herald-Mage of Valdemar. There is no one remaining alive who can train those with Mage-potential in Valdemar. There is no one who can protect Valdemar from magical harm. You have an alternate choice, Vanyel Ashkevron. You can go back in another way. You can be a spirit, bound to one place in Valdemar, yet able to reach to other places and through the web you created with Heralds and Companions. You will have absolute power of this place, and retain the abilities you had in life."
Vanyel digested this information, then asked, "Do you have a place in mind?" Death nodded. "You can—inhabit—the Wendwinter forest. This will protect Valdemar from the Northern border, which is in dire need of protection."
"And will I ever leave the forest?"
"Until the time comes when Valdemar may have Herald-Mages again, and will require no more such protection, then you will be free to go to the Havens, or return as the options aforementioned."
Vanyel hesitated before asking, "And Stefen?"
"He has another task... when you see him again, and you will, in the forest, you will know what it is."
A rather whinny-like sound from the woman—Yfandes—reminded Van of something else. "And 'Fandes?" he asked.
The Shadow-Lover shrugged. "She will make her own choice. Because she is bound to you, she can accompany you, or choose the options given to dead Heralds or Companions."
Yfandes touched Van's shoulder, her eyes, still that sapphire he knew so well, looked deep into his. "I will never leave you," she said, her voice sounding strangely akin to her Mindspeech, with a musical tone Vanyel had never guessed would ever be in Yfandes' voice, had she been able to speak in Valdemar, and just Mindspeak. "I promised you that when I Chose you, and I still hold to my promise. Whatever you choose, I will be with you." She smiled, and then she was a Companion again, a white horse-shaped lady he loved so much, ever since she saved his life when 'Lendel died...
Death smiled, a bit sadly, as Vanyel said, "I will go to the forest." Yfandes whinnied her approval, butting his shoulder affectionately. :Good choice, Van dear:.:
***
And then, all of a sudden, he wasn't in that silver-wreathed world, he was in a forest, Wendwinter Forest, and Yfandes was beside him. He looked down; he wore Whites, and he was slightly transparent. Yfandes was the same. :We're insubstantial!: said Yfandes, a hint of glee in her Mindvoice. Vanyel chuckled. This was the oddest sensation he'd ever felt; he could see all over the woods, feel everything move. iHis/i branches moved, not the oak's that towered above him. He could tell by the surprise, unworded, that flowed from the bond between himself and Yfandes that she felt the same thing.
Suddenly he was aware of fleeing men, bad men, Leareth's men, running into the forest. "I am," Van said, his voice somehow becoming the air that rustled through the leaves, "Not going to allow enemies of Valdemar to pass through this place unharmed!" And just by thinking of it, he felt, he made, the earth gape and swallow two of the men, and another was suddenly caught in the embrace of a mighty tree. Yfandes made a flick of her tail—which was restored, now that she was a spirit—and another man found himself cocooned in a suffocating bundle of leaves. Between them, Vanyel and Yfandes defeated the remnants of Leareth's army, who ran from the armies of Valdemar.
And so they dwelt in what later was known as the Forest of Sorrows, until the Mage-Storms, many, many years later...