Chapter 2 – Love and Loss
Nedra awoke slowly; her head feeling like someone had filled it with damp cotton. She tried to sit up, but regretted it as the room swum about her. Laying back down quickly, she glanced up at the ceiling, which she realized after a few moments was the ivory-panelled ceiling of her own room back at her parents' estate. Why was her head so fuzzy? Had she taken ill or fainted from a spell or fit? She shook her head vigorously to try and clear it, but only felt nauseous from the effort. She had rarely ever gotten sick, and even when she had the occasional fever or flu it was never quite like this. "Oh, you're awake! I was beginning to think the young mistress was going to sleep for ages!" she heard the maid, Nyelle say. Tilting her eyes towards the wood elf felt like looking through a gnome's distortion lens, but her eyes focused after a few seconds to find Nyelle setting down a pile of linens on a divan in the room. Blinking, she frowned with confusion. Usually her mother insisted on taking care of her if she was sick, and sunlight was shining into the room through the curtains, Nyelle never dropped off linens and clothes during the middle of the day.
"What time is it?" she groaned, lifting her hands to rub the sand out of her eyes. "Three in the afternoon, miss Nedra," the maid replied, after moving to the window to pull the curtains aside a fraction. As the high elven girl's stomach began to growl, she realized how hungry she was. She'd missed breakfast, lunch, and even tea time. As she lay there, her frazzled brain began to clear somewhat, and she realized something was even more awry. The last thing she could remember was arriving at the beach in the Butcherblock Mountains…why couldn't she recall anything past that? Rolling her violet eyes back towards Nyelle, who was arranging her clothes in the dresser, she remarked, "I assume Mother is rather cross that I've slept in so late…I hope she won't be too firm with me once I finally come down for dinner." Nyelle's back stiffened, and she made a small noise as if she was going to say something, but decided against it. Nedra looked towards the door, half expecting to see Zektoll leaning against the door jamb, book in hand; rolling his eyes at her for being so irresponsible, but all she could see was an empty corridor, with the afternoon sun rays creating pools of light on the floor.
"Is my brother still studying in his room? I would think he'd be here to check on me, or at least scold me," Nedra asked, a growing sense of perturbment filling her mind. Nyelle again was silent…she never failed to answer Nedra's questions. The girl turned again to see Nyelle tuck a lock of bright copper hair under her bonnet, but she still hadn't responded. Finally, the maid said in a soft voice, "Master Zektoll is under the same condition as you. Please rest, milady, you've been ill for three days." Nedra gaped at this news; three days she had been asleep? And her brother was ill as well? Before she could inquire after what Nyelle had meant, the maid had excused herself. Very worried now, she again tried to rise, and found that she could, though still very weak, and slightly dizzy. Flopping back down amongst her soft sheets, she played with her golden curls for an hour or so until she felt strong enough to get up and get dressed. As she did up the ties on the back of her dress, she felt comforted that moving about seemed to hasten her recovery, though her fingers were clumsy, and lacked strength. Tottering over to her dresser, she reached inside to find her favourite silk gloves, only to find them missing. Shifting through the drawer, she couldn't find them anywhere. Settling for a plum-colored satin pair, she wondered what could've happened to them, as she was never absent-minded with her things.
The halls of the manor were mysteriously quiet and empty, only the occasional creak of a floor board let her know that anyone was in the building. She checked into her brother's room to find Zektoll tangled up in his sheets, his hair all a tangle, and he was sweating profusely, his skin paler even than normal. Deeply distressed, she hurried as fast as she could to his side and laid her hand on his forehead. He sighed at her touch, but made no other response. His skin was cool to the touch fortunately, but he still looked dreadful. Spying a basin of water with a cloth next to it, she took the cloth and dried his face with it, giving him a kiss on the forehead before she left. As she shut the mahogany door quietly, she wondered, had she been as sick as this? Shuffling down the hall once more, she resolved to find her father, he'd know what to do, or he'd be talking with several clerics and druids on how to heal his precious children. Yet the door to his study was closed and locked. She listened carefully, and heard choked, uneven breathing behind the door, as if someone was trying not to weep. "Father?" she ventured, but received no response. She repeated her entreaty, louder this time, but all she heard was a strangled sob. Something was desperately wrong.
Frantic now, she walked as swiftly as she could throughout the entire estate, calling her mother's name over and over, but nobody answered her. Even Nyelle was nowhere to be found. Trying to calm herself, she cast her mind back to the last day she could remember, which was the day of the trip to the shore. She had been going there with…and suddenly she remembered, she had gone with Sohana and Raphael! Either of them should be able to tell her what was going on! Taking her light cape off its hook in the entryway, she strolled out onto the garden path leading to the manor. What she saw increased her disquiet, as there were black ribbons and hangings all over, as if there was to be a funeral. As she realized what she had just thought, a stone dropped into her stomach. Fear giving her limbs strength, she practically flew down the path into town. As she ran, she repeated the mantra, "Please let Mother be fine, please let her be all right." Arriving at the door of Sohana's townhouse, she slammed the knocker down several times. Yet nobody came to the door. She sidled alongside the house, trying to see inside, but the curtains were drawn across all the windows. But as she looked upwards, she saw one that had a slit open, but as she strained to see through that gap, slender white fingers, like those of a girl's, closed it. This event eerily gave her the impression that someone had been spying on her. Dropping her eyes back to the streets, she noticed that the avenues were likewise devoid of people.
In a panic, she dashed to the inn that she had found Raphael to be staying in, and to her relief, found the door to be open. Marking the empty counter, she took the stairs two at a time to the paladin's room, but found only Yeolarn Bronzeleaf inside. Confused as to why the cleric was there, she began to ask where Raphael was, but noticed that the older man's eyes were red as if he'd been crying a lot. Summoning up her courage, she blurted out, "Where's Raphael?" The high elven man had been looking through an old diary when she entered, but looked up in shock at hearing her voice. Composing himself, he started up and exclaimed, "What are you doing up, young lady? You should be in bed…" But Nedra interrupted him and repeated her demand, "Where is Sir Raphael? Please, it's urgent!" Seeing her close to tears, he began to repeat his instructions, but something inside him bended at seeing the girl, and he whispered softly to her, "He's out in the Faydark, near the wizard spires, but you'd best hurry, he won't be here for much longer." Giving him a hug about the neck, she whirled and headed out the door, not giving the room a second glance.
As she ran to the front gates, she realized that minors weren't allowed outside the city unsupervised, so with effort, she focused her mind and adopted the form of a female bard she had seen a week or so earlier. The guards nodded as she passed, thankfully not seeing through her illusion, but she noticed that they were more lightly staffed than normal. Exiting out through the tunnel leading into the city, she stopped and took in the towering trees and dark air of the great forest. She had been outside before, but rarely on foot, and never alone. Feeling her will faltering, she hurried past the city guards and headed straight out into the forest. She remembered from her lessons that the wizard spires were almost a straight shot out of the city, but there were orcs in the forest, something which terrified her. As her illusion faded, she glanced fearfully about as she ran, yet no squat indigo forms moved within the murky depths of the Greater Faydark. Seeing a glimpse of white up ahead, she sprinted forwards to see the wizard spires rising up out of the ground before her. In their center was Raphael, all alone.
He looked shocked to see her, but before he could say anything she hurled herself into his arms, sobbing, all of the confusion and fear of the afternoon bearing down on her at last. Not knowing what else to do, the human man held her tightly, running his armoured hand through her blond curls. Calming down, she asked in a soft voice, "Please, Sir Raphael, please…tell me what's going on…where my mother is? Where has everyone gone? Why is my brother so sick?" Looking up at him through tear-filled eyes, she pulled her bangs out of her tiara as she added, "Are you going somewhere too? Without saying goodbye?" Blue hazel eyes met amethyst as the paladin struggled on what to tell her. Finally, slowly, carefully, he explained, "Your mother…is permanently dead." Though she had dreaded it to be true, this news hit her like a hurricane and she broke into fresh wracks of sobbing. Letting her quiet down, he went on, letting her bury her face against his neck, tugging slightly on his beard, and told her, "It was a terrible accident…it was what caused you and your brother to become so sick…there was little any of us could do. I wish I could tell you more, but you're not old enough to hear it."
Wanting desperately for him to tell her more, she lifted herself slightly up, but as she did she noticed the amulet that he held in his hand. The blue crystal somehow shined despite the lack of light, and the gold and silver triangles sparkled in their square pattern. "What is that?" she asked. If his eyes weren't sad before, a new kind of pity entered them as he replied, "This…is how I'm going to get home. To my real home anyways. I have no more time here left…my duty is done." Not wanting to believe it to be true, she embraced him again tightly. As she did so, Raphael felt a strange tremble in the Fourth Amulet. Could she be…? he wondered, convinced now more than ever. A smile slowly crept over his face as he realized the implications. Kneeling down before her, he held her up and told her encouragingly, "Don't worry, you'll see me again, after a fashion. But I want you to listen to me closely, for what I'm about to do will have great significance later in your life. Watch closely, for the next time you see something like it, you must seek out a man who bears an amulet like mine. It is extremely important that you do so, for he will need your help, help that I know you can give, as your Talent with illusions proves. Once you find him, never let him out of your sight, as the two of you, along with many more, will have a great role to play in the future."
With that proclamation, he stepped back from her into the center, motioning for her to move back. Confused, but struck by the intensity of his words, she committed them to memory as she watched Raphael lift the Amulet towards the sky. Giving her one last gentle smile, he exclaimed, "Until we meet again!" Her breath was taken away as she saw white sparks suddenly appear around him, as he slowly began to dissolve into them. Hearing footsteps near her, she became aware of Boltz, Yeolarn, Tarker, and her father, Bruciaré, standing near her. Bruciaré looked terrible, his eyes red from weeping, with dark circles under them from lack of sleep. His ordinarily highly groomed silver hair, almost vainly kept perfect was dishevelled. And though he was still standing several feet away, she could smell the reek of alcohol on him. Her father had been fond of drink before, but never like this. But, given the situation, she couldn't find it in her heart to fault him. The four Companions watched silently as the man who they had come to respect and follow for many years of their lives disappear a second time. Raphael too, refrained from speech, as he had given them a parting message years ago that needed no repetition. Their work was done, more than one world had been saved through their efforts, and though it had cost them much, peace would be preserved for a time, until Raphael's successor came, to repeat the Cycle. As the paladin dissolved completely into white sparks, a vast column of silver flame burst forth from the ground underneath him, carrying the sparks up into the sky, with such force that it blew a clearing in the dense forest canopy, giving the gathered elves and dwarf a glimpse of the peach afternoon sky as the column of flame continued on into the heavens. Nedra's tears were forgotten as her breath was taken away by the spectacle. Surely, only the gods could create anything close to something this fantastic.
As abruptly as it began, the column shut off as if a lid had been placed over a subterranean furnace, and the forest returned to darkness. Lowering their eyes back down to the forest floor, Tarker, Yeolarn, and Boltz headed off to their respective homes, knowing that they might not ever be assembled together ever again. Though it seemed to pain him even to move, Bruciaré shuffled over to where his daughter stood and placed a hand on her shoulder. She swiftly turned to hug him about the stomach, and he clasped his arms around her back, holding her to him as they stood together, not speaking. As far as she could cast her memory back, this was the last time Nedra experienced any kind gesture from her father.
Chapter 2: Love and Loss
It was a beautiful morning outside, but Bruciaré never noticed such mornings anymore. In fact, it was rare that he was even awake to experience any morning at all. In the seventy four years since his wife's death, he had taken to liquor like never before, as only the fiery spirit could numb the pain he felt inside. As he creaked open a bleary eye, he amended that. His son, Zektoll, was becoming a promising magician, much like he had been at his age, and he made sure to remind the younger high elf to study hard, though it was often redundant as the boy worked hard to give his father what pleasure he could from his success. Sitting up against the complaint of his muscles and head, he thought of Nedra and groaned. She was every bit as successful as her brother in her studies, close to being declared a full enchantress, but she had become a problem in…other areas. He wasn't sure that he believed all the rumors about her, but what he had heard had disturbed him, and he was often cross with his oldest for encouraging the gossip. Really…a sexual deviant? He had some suspicions about her sexual preference, but he never questioned her on the subject. Smacking his lips, he realized he was very thirsty, and a sniff revealed he could well use a bath.
Deciding to satisfy both at once, he grasped a still half full bottle of wine and put on a robe, and headed out into the hall, making sure to take his keys with him, though he missed grabbing them on the hook in his first few attempts. Taking the short walk down the hall to his son's room, he found the door open and poked his head in. Leaning over his desk, Zektoll was already hard at work, writing furiously on a scroll of parchment as he worked out his spell theorem homework. His wavy hair was tied back from his face by a tight but worn rope cord which he had used ever since Nedra had given it to him to celebrate his one hundred and sixtieth birthday. "Working already?" Bruciaré remarked, making his presence known. Without even looking up, Zektoll replied, "Actually, father, it's eleven, and I've been working for three hours already. Nearly done with this week's theorems, so once I hand it in after lunch I'll be free to practice for the rest of the week instead of always doing homework like the other boys." Feeling pleased for once, Bruciaré actually smiled, and muttered, "That's a good lad." In a louder voice, he told his youngest, "I'm going to go take a bath then go meet with the board at the Academy, I too am actually done with my work ahead of time as well, and so I'll see you tonight at dinner." He then moved out of the doorway and continued on towards the bathroom. As he was leaving, with a jolt, Zektoll remembered what Nedra had told him to say. "Wait, father! Don't go into the bathroom!" But it was too late, he'd already gone. Feeling a touch scared, the young mage eventually shrugged it off, remarking as he picked up his quill, "Oh well, it's her fault for trying this during daylight hours anyways."
Bruciaré was looking forwards to a long hot soak before getting cleaned up to go visit the elder mages of the Keepers of the Art, but as he reached the tall cherry wood door, he found it locked. That's odd… he thought to himself, and fiddled with the keys to try and find the right one. The ringing in his ears was loud enough that he didn't notice the sounds of splashing, giggling, gasping, and heavy breathing coming from behind the door. Finally locating the right key, a small silver one, he inserted it into the lock and turned it with some difficulty to pull the door open. He took a step into the room and then stopped. "Uh, hello Mr. Fiamma…." "Uh oh…." "Daddy, the door was locked for a reason." Quietly, he backed out of the room, replaced the key into the door and locked it again. Were those girls doing what he thought they were doing? He looked down at the bottle of wine in his hand and shook his head. No…no, he had just been drinking too much, and was turning into a dirty old man in his middle years. He honestly needed to get off the sauce. Pouring the wine out into a nearby potted plant, he shuffled back to his room, deciding he would make do with splashing cold water on his face.
Pryss settled down and uncrossed her arms from her chest in the still rocking bathwater from the frantic position shifting that had gone on when they had heard the key in the door. Glaring at Nedra from under her dark red bangs, she growled, "We nearly got caught! When I agreed to this 'experiment', it was under your assurance that we wouldn't be discovered! My parents would never let me hear the end of it…" In contrast to Pryss' natural haughtiness being fired up by the shock of near-discovery, Fleuyr was every bit as unflappable as she ever was, and sat there calmly with a confused, cutely naïve look on her face as she wondered aloud while twirling a lock of peach-colored hair, "Didn't you say he never gets up until the afternoon?" While Pryss' face was red from anger and embarrassment, Nedra's cheeks were pink for an entirely different reason. Still, her own heart was pounding from the close call. Brushing it off with a flip of her hand, causing bubbles to fly up from the bubble bath, she told them, "As I recall, 'someone' was supposed to keep him from coming in here (I'll deal with him later), but as you might've noticed, Father was every bit as hung-over as he usually is upon waking up, I doubt he even noticed anything. And besides, have you ever tried to convince a drunken man to do anything?" feeling upset that the two girls had stopped what they had been doing before they were interrupted, she had been right on the brink... Her scowl fading to a pout, Pryss conceded, "Point." Moving Pryss' hand back to where it had been earlier, Nedra almost purred as she suggested, "Anyway, shall we finish?"
As the scholars' council of the Keepers of the Art looked over the new spell that Bruciaré had devised, he sat down in the artfully worked yet extremely uncomfortable carved wooden chair, feeling chilled as he became sober, something he didn't want to be anymore. Tarker looked over at him, and remarked, "You're looking more ruffled than usual, Bruce, didn't get to take a bath today?" Nodding in agreement, the magician replied, "Errrr…my daughter and her friends were using it." Eirrel, an older wizard, snorted, and muttered, "Humph, if it was young Nedra, I doubt they were just 'using it', so to speak." Chuckles rose from around the table, as Bruciaré's daughter was a regular arguing or joking point. Vorlian, an enchanter more on the younger side remarked, "That girl certainly causes you some problems, huh, Lord Fiamma?" Kinool Goldsinger, Nedra's guildmaster glowered from his chair, feeling a need to defend his young charge, so he interjected, "The only problem with Nedra is that she's too…affectionate. I think that she'll settle down later, we just need to give her time to…explore." Eirrel tugged on his long white beard and scoffed, "Don't give us that trash, Kinool, what the girl needs is a husband…someone to keep her in line." Maendil, a wizard around Bruciaré's age, upon hearing that, got an idea into his head and leaned forwards. "Bruciaré, I've got an idea along that line…Your daughter and my son are around the same age, they've been friendly in class so far, and Eirrel's suggestion got me thinking…"
The young woman they were speaking about had already gotten dressed and was currently practicing her basic spells, red light flashing from her fingertips as she successfully landed a Shallow Breath spell upon the 'test subject', a none too pleased giant rat in a cage. She felt awful about striking the poor rodent over and over again to practice her spells, but it had been the guinea pig for generations of novices, and the ornery rat didn't even seem to be anything more than annoyed by the basic damage related spells he was hit with on a constant basis. She had finished a light lunch just a few minutes before, and had bid goodbye to Pryss and Fleuyr, though the former had given her a significant look before leaving. The enchantress sighed, she knew that people talked about her, but she really didn't deserve all the rumors that erupted out of her closeness to her classmates. She just felt that Erolissi's principles were best served in making sure everyone felt loved, and if that meant physical intimacy, then she was only too happy to give it. At most all she did was give hugs and kisses on the cheek…yet she had partially fulfilled one of the rumors with what she had been doing earlier…Shaking her head, she abandoned the thought and returned to her scrolls. As she was re-memorizing the minor shielding spell, she heard someone come into the practice hall and looked up. She flashed brilliant white teeth in a grin when she saw who it was. Iluvayen, one of the boys from her class that she felt the closest to. With long white hair, a slender but well-built frame and intelligent blue eyes, he was one of the better looking men that she knew, but they shared many interests, and he had shyly even approached her for a date a few times, which she coyly accepted.
Iluvayen returned the smile, continuing to look at her as she lowered her head back down to the scroll. Though a wizard, he had been friends with her when they were in the lower classes, and he still tried to find time to spend with her when he wasn't practicing or working on homework. He let his gaze drift over her entire body, of which he loved every inch. Nedra had matured extremely in the past few decades, to a point where she made most of the older women and a good portion of the younger girls jealous. Full-figured and elegant, she looked every bit the noble she was, she hardly even needed the light makeup she put on each morning, her lips were red enough on their own, full and impish when grinning, and he could only wonder at how soft they felt when they were pressed against his cheek. Her violet eyes had taken on a seductive almond shape, and glittered with cunning whenever she got a clever idea. He noted with some amusement that she had to hold her ample chest off of the scrolls with one arm. Though it might cause her problems later in life, her 'endowments' made him wonder if she would ever need to actually cast a spell to charm anyone…it certainly had 'enchanted' many of the boys in his class. Thinking of that briefly soured his thoughts as he thought of Meobryn. He had told him quickly about his father's decision on his way to see Nedra, but the older boy merely sneered at him, and hissed, "We'll see how long that lasts…" The wizard hated the enchanter, because his obsession over Nedra had nearly brought them to blows, as Meobryn was sure he'd win her over sooner or later, but Iluvayen knew that she only liked men who treated her right, with kindness and romance, not like a piece of meat or a prize to gain.
Finishing her memorization, Nedra briefly tried to cast the shielding spell, but fizzled it on her first try, and Iluvayen's slight smirk at her mistake made her giggle lightly, a sound that the high elven boy relished hearing. Giving up for a while, she shoved the scrolls off to the side and waved him over to sit on the bench near her. The rat, glad that he would be spared some abuse for a while, settled down on the floor of his cage and squeaked in contempt of the two-legged menaces. "Vay, have you finished with your work for the afternoon?" she asked as he came over and sat down close beside her, so that their hips were just lightly touching. Though he felt somewhat embarrassed at the nickname, he prized it because he felt that it was a sign that she liked him more than the other boys, or at least he hoped. Nodding, shifting his long straight hair over to his opposite shoulder so Nedra could lay her head down on his right, he added with a sideways smile, "I succeeded in getting some of Wemonel's poetry from Erudin; I thought we might have a look at it later." In saying so, he produced the book, which Nedra eagerly took from him, her heart glowing at the gift. Yet she was surprised, for such books were expensive to bring over all the way from Odus. What was the special occasion? When she asked him as much, he gulped, unsure of how to proceed, as while he had thought up an entire conversation to convey the news, he forgot it entirely. He shifted uncomfortably, then felt the weight of the box in his pocket and remembered some of what he had intended. Giving her his version of her seductive smile, which he always felt somewhat silly doing, he produced the small box from his pocket and handed it to her, remarking, "I've got something else for you, actually." Nedra knew it was jewellery the instant she saw the felt-covered box, yet what was inside was neither necklace nor earrings, like the kind he had given to her before. Inside was a beautifully wrought gold ring set with a diamond. An engagement ring to be precise. For once, she didn't know what to say as she looked up with wide eyes into Iluvayen's own. With a tender look, he told her, "Even though technically this isn't necessary, I still felt that you deserved it, so I used some of my study money to get this for you. Our fathers decided earlier today that we are to have an arranged marriage. While I think it's sudden, I hope we can work this out." Shocked, but not entirely surprised, for she had known that her father had been grumbling of marrying her off to another noble's son, she hadn't expected it to be to be to someone she actually knew, and liked for that matter. Carefully removing the ring from the box, she handed it to him to place on her finger. As he did so, she looked into his eyes with a warm feeling in her heart as she admitted softly, "I think I'm more than willing to try." Surprised at her sudden demureness, but knowing what he had planned to do next, he leaned in close, and as he had hoped, Nedra closed her eyes and accepted the kiss, wrapping her arms close about him. As he returned the embrace, his mind stopped working entirely as he realized that as wonderful as her playful kisses were earlier, this was something else altogether.
To be continued…
Author's note: Been rewriting some of the names of secondary characters as I realized that they weren't very original. Ex: Raned in Opposites Attract is now Raynel, Kheldar in this story is now Meobryn, etc.