Level 10 quests!

Caoilfhionn is pronounced 'kee-lin'. (I spell it Caelin on my phone when I'm being lazy.) Tharash has suggested Caolán. But I don't mind typing out the extra letters, and it makes it look very Irish which is the point. It's beautiful even if incomprehensible.

2: True Love

Caoilfhionn was only a few weeks old, fresh and new and brimming over with eager life – well, that wasn't saying much, most Sylvari were, even many of the older ones. The world happened very quickly, but he was quick himself, and though he sometimes floundered, it never stopped him having fun and indulging his curiosity.

For now, he was infiltrating a camp of the Nightmare Court with his new friend Tiachren, to rescue Tiachren's lover, Ysvelta. The Court had taken in the two young Sylvari knights as new recruits, and Caoilfhionn stared all about him in fascination. The Courtiers looked like normal Sylvari, though they tended towards wearing brambles and sharp-edged leaves more than the Sylvari of the Dream, but he could feel their hearts were unkind. He… could not disguise his own heart, and hoped they would simply explain his demeanour to themselves as 'fresh from the pod'. Their glances were sharp as they took note of him and Tiachren, but he really just felt emboldened. What a dare it was, to be walking plainly through a camp of those who would murder him instantly should they know his real plan!

Tiachren was looking in every direction as well, and as they reached the back of the grove near to a waterfall, he gave an exclamation and hurried forwards. "My beloved Ysvelta! Thank the Pale Tree, you're all right. Quickly, come with me. We have to get out of here!" His face was a beautiful expression of love and hope, alight in a way Caoilfhionn had never seen on anyone before.

Ysvelta was a lovely woman, with skin a shade lighter blue than Caoilfhionn's and dressed in beautiful clothes of lavender, green, and gold, with a face given to enchanting smiles and a voice given to bell-like laughter. She let Tiachren take her hand, but she shook her head and smiled, leading him towards the waterfall. "No, Tiachren. I cannot go with you."

"But Ysvelta, I don't understand. Don't you love me?"

Ysvelta reached up to stroke his face tenderly. "With all my heart, dear knight! We will both stay. Come with me, and we will thrive in the garden of Nightmare."

Tiachren gasped and drew back. "These people are evil. You aren't one of them. Return to the Grove with me, and put all this behind you."

"I cannot, love," Ysvelta said, looking up at him pleadingly. "The Nightmare Court has shown me the truth. Ventari's Tablet is false; the Pale Tree is lying to us. Don't you understand?"

"I-I… I do not," Tiachren said, his voice shaking. "Ysvelta, what are you saying!?"

"It is marvelous!" Ysvelta said, smiling more widely, even as she pulled away from Tiachren. "I have been chosen to lead the next attack on the village of Astorea. The Court will free them – and I will free you."

"I-I… I…" Caoilfhionn could veritably hear Tiachren's heart breaking as his voice cracked.

"So it's true," Caoilfhionn murmured to himself. "Once you join the Nightmare Court, you change. Ysvelta, you cannot return to the Dream, can you?"

"No!" Tiachren burst out. "I can't accept that. I won't!" He knelt before Ysvelta. "Please, my love-" Ysvelta laughed merrily and turned to leave. "Wait, where are you going? Come back!"

She turned to smile at him, but there was a hard edge in it. "If you love me, Tiachren, then meet me where our hearts began! You remember the place…"

"Ysvelta!" Tiachren jumped to his feet, reaching out for her, but she had cast an illusion and disappeared. "Where have you gone? What have they done to you, my love? Ysvelta!"

Caoilfhionn grabbed his arm. "Get hold of yourself, Tiachren! We must leave, now!" Caithe had materialized out of the shadows, daggers drawn, beckoning to them. "Come on, Tiachren!"

When they had killed Renvari and won free of that dreadful shadowy place, Tiachren stopped, running his hands feverishly over his leaves. "They forced her to say those things. Ysvelta isn't evil. She'd never fall to Nightmare. If I could get her away from those courtiers, I know I could bring her back to the Dream."

Caithe shook her head. "I warned you that we might be too late, Tiachren. Nightmare never relinquishes those it has enthralled. You must let her go. If you chase Ysvelta, you will fall into Nightmare as well. We must grieve her loss – and move on."

"How can you be so certain?" Caoilfhionn demanded. "Surely some have returned to the Dream…?" His question faltered halfway through.

"I am certain," Caithe said quietly. "You must believe me." She turned away, brisk and stern. "Ysvelta said the Nightmare Court is going to attack Astorea Village. Are we going to risk innocent lives to chase Tiachren's futile hopes?"

Tiachren drew himself up resolutely. "You must do as you think best, Firstborn. As for me, I will not abandon Ysvelta. Caoilfhionn, you've been a good friend. Please, be my friend now – help me save her. Whatever they've done, love can heal it."

"Don't throw your life away," Caithe said to him.

"Caithe, I'm sorry… but Ysvelta is my reason for living. Without her, I am already dead."

Caoilfhionn hesitated, but not for want of decisiveness. Tiachren's belief was so strong, so overwhelming, it caught his breath. Was that what it was like to be in love? "I will go with you, Tiachren. I will help you bring back Ysvelta."

Tiachren's face lit up in joy. "Thank you, Caoilfhionn, for believing in love! Living or dead, I must go to Ysvelta. She is my world."

Caithe's hands clenched into fists; she did not normally let slip any emotion, but now Caoilfhionn felt a wave of pain from her. "A fool's world, Tiachren, built upon delusions. Love until your heart breaks; it will not change the truth. I go to warn the villagers of Astorea." She walked away, vanishing into the undergrowth.

"Come quickly!" Tiachren cried, beckoning to Caoilfhionn. "Ysvelta said I'd find her where we first fell in love. Let us go to her as swiftly as we may!"

But as they journeyed, he began to sober. "Caoilfhionn… if… if Caithe is right, and I am on a fool's errand…" He paused, unwilling to speak on. Caoilfhionn waited. "Do not kill her. I… do not want to kill her, and yet I would not suffer any other to..."

"I will not fight her," Caoilfhionn promised. At least, not unless Tiachren were dead first. "I will protect you against all else." He paused. "What is it like to love so truly?"

Tiachren could not help a broad, beaming smile. "It is… indescribable, really. I've already told you how she is to me – my light, my world, my life. But how love makes me feel…" He thought. "It makes me feel like a better person. That I would ever do my utmost to make her happy, for her mere presence makes me the happiest among men. And she has said the same."

"That sounds wonderful," Caoilfhionn said, smiling back at him. "I should like to feel that way someday."

"I wish you the best of fortune," Tiachren said, patting him on the shoulder, sounding very wise for all that he was really only a few months older than Caoilfhionn.

A couple hours later, they came to a sheltered jungle garden. Tiachren breathed deeply. "This place holds many memories for us. Perhaps I can use those memories to entice Ysvelta back to the Dream. This was our private garden. Ah, Ysvelta! You still remember." He nodded decisively. "We can save her! Love will find a way."

There were several people inside, but Tiachren ignored almost all of them, pointing suddenly. "Look! There she is. My lady is so beautiful. Quickly, before I lose heart."

Tiachren pushed boldly through the ferns to approach Ysvelta, who sat demurely at the top of a little hill, but Caoilfhionn found himself stopped by one of the Nightmare courtiers. "Welcome, stranger. Mistress Ysvelta waits for Tiachren, but you are also welcome to join Nightmare."

"I'm not here to join you," Caoilfhionn said sharply. "I'm here to save Ysvelta."

The courtier shook her head and chuckled. "You speak so passionately, but you don't know. She's already saved – and soon too shall be Tiachren."

"You won't touch him," Caoilfhionn said fiercely. "I'll stop you." Though the odds were against them; there was the two of them, against four courtiers, two with bows, two with daggers – and Ysvelta, if it came to that.

The courtier smiled. "We shall see."

"My love, I knew you would come," Ysvelta said to Tiachren, who knelt before her. "Do you remember? This is the clearing where you first said you loved me." She smiled gently at him.

"I still bear the shield you gave me that day," Tiachren said, pulling the Shield of the Moon from his back. "I still love you. I want you by my side again. Please listen to me – the tablet guides us. It bears wisdom, but encourages each Sylvari to decide their own path. It's not evil, and neither is the Mother Tree. You've been deceived."

Ysvelta rose gracefully to her feet with a laugh – and that hard edge was back. "Oh, dear heart. The Nightmare hasn't deceived me. It has freed me! It can free you, as well. Leave behind Ventari's shackles and take my hand." She reached out to him, a proud, sinister light in her eyes that did not suit her. "Together, we will conquer Astorea, and then the Grove. We will bring Nightmare to the Pale Tree herself – and free our people, forever."

Caoilfhionn pushed his way past the other courtiers. "Listen to her, Tiachren. Nightmare has changed her. Is this truly the woman you love?"

Tiachren's head fell, his face crumpling with pain. "No. Ysvelta wouldn't say such things. I… Forgive me, my love. I would give everything I have to bring you back, but I cannot follow you where you now stand." He rose, and turned to go – even now, he would not fight her, would he?

Ysvelta's face twisted with fury. "No! You can't leave me. You mustn't." She lunged forward and grabbed his arm, clinging to it with impassioned longing. "I would die for you… and I will kill to have you!"

The courtiers turned on Caoilfhionn, and he flung himself forwards, desperately flinging up a shield of Earth around himself to ward off the initial strikes. Then he was upon the closest one, stabbing him with a blade of Earth and darting off again before they could catch him.

Ysvelta was struggling against Tiachren, who was holding her back from throwing herself at Caoilfhionn. "You took him from me! I'll kill you!"

"Ysvelta, stop!" Tiachren cried. "Please, don't do this!"

They would not attack Tiachren; Ysvelta still had hopes of turning him once she had gotten rid of Caoilfhionn, he knew. So for now it was time to zig-zag between the shrubs and try to get the others off his back. He heard Ysvelta cry out; Tiachren had pushed her aside to draw his sword and come to Caoilfhionn's aid – and none too soon, for he tripped over a fallen log, landing on his side, a courtier standing over him with blades raised. Tiachren fell upon that one and stabbed him through the chest. Caoilfhionn scrambled up, sending a blast of fire out at the other dagger-wielding courtier, the first wave of a deluge of fire that caught the courtier and burned her entirely, screaming. Tiachren had raised his shield against the other archer, and now charged against him.

The three of them faced each other. Ysvelta's face was dark with anger, but she softened it as she looked on Tiachren. "My beloved Tiachren. Love me as you once did, and all can be mended between us. I will fight to my last for you."

Tiachren went to her and took her in his arms, and kissed her. "Ysvelta, stop. Come back to me. Let go of the Nightmare."

She snarled suddenly and shoved him away, sending him tumbling back down the hill. As he picked himself up, she raised her arms. "Creatures of Nightmare, rise up, show your power!"

Spiders and wolves dashed from the undergrowth; whether they were real or manifestations of Ysvelta's mesmeric power, Caoilfhionn couldn't tell and it didn't really matter. "I have them!"

"Right," Tiachren said grimly. As Caoilfhionn laid down Fire and Earth before the bestial enemies before them, Tiachren drew his sword against and walked towards Ysvelta – and struck against the bubble shield that she had thrown up at the last moment.

For the first time, Ysvelta's voice faltered. "Please, Tiachren. Why are you doing this?"

"I have no choice, love," Tiachren said thickly. "Please believe me. I can't allow you to hurt anyone." Another blow, and the shield shattered.

Ysvelta cried out. "I love you! I always have… always will…"

Tiachren, already weeping, pulled her impaled form to him in a last embrace. "My beloved Ysvelta… Forgive me…"

Slowly, he lowered her still body to the ground, and knelt beside her, covering his face with his hands – and they were yellow with her sap.

Caoilfhionn slowly approached the young knight. "I'm sorry, Tiachren. I hoped that you were right. I wish we could have brought her back to the Dream."

Tiachren sobbed, his handsome face creased with grief. "Caithe was right… My heart is broken. I… I can't feel anything but pain and emptiness. I've lost my true love. I don't know what to do."

Caoilfhionn knelt beside him and gently reached out to him. He didn't know what to do either. This was all far beyond his experience, and the grief radiating from Tiachren was drowning him in its intensity. He ached in sympathy, body and soul, but to understand the death of someone beloved… He could not comprehend it. At his touch, Tiachren turned and embraced him, his tears falling onto his coat, and Caoilfhionn pulled him close with his arms about his shoulders.

The words came slowly, softly, and he hoped they did more help than harm. "Try to remember Ysvelta as she was before all of this. Remember her sweetness, her light, her love. Tell others about her, and let those memories soothe you. The real Ysvelta loved you. She would be proud of you for standing strong. For trying so hard to rescue her."

"You're right," Tiachren said. "She would want me to remember us as we were that day in the forest, when we sang beneath the sun." He wept on. "But it is so hard…"

"Maybe we should speak with the Mother Tree," Caoilfhionn said.

"Yes… yes. Perhaps she can ease my mind. Nothing will ease my heart… Let us return to the Grove." But just for another moment, he had to lean his head into Caoilfhionn's shoulder and squeeze a little harder. Caoilfhionn bore it patiently.

He had a lot to think about. He had not imagined that such pain could be possible – certainly, it was not that surprising, the Dream had hinted that the world was a dangerous and often cruel place, but he had just never bothered to think about it before. Why should he? He had no personal basis for comparison until now.

And yet to see Tiachren's undying, loyal, believing love for Ysvelta… By the Pale Tree, he wanted that. To love someone so much you would die for them – as Tiachren would have, if Caoilfhionn hadn't been there – was an idea that thrilled him from his leaves to his toes. To near-glow with joy, as Tiachren had when speaking of Ysvelta, upon seeing her, before learning of her transformation, to have someone to champion, to have someone to inspire him to great and valiant deeds… Even if he and his hypothetical love were parted and he experienced the same grief that tormented Tiachren, he still wanted it with every fiber of his being.

But who might he love? And who might love him in return? Anyone might do… but he wanted someone kind… someone gentle… someone whom he could admire in everything they did, someone as romantic as he was. Man, woman, Human, Norn, he didn't care, only that they could be beautiful to him.