(A/N: Now that the 4th book is out I've decided to finish this story up and not leave it hanging. Rate and review as always.)
The whole thing looked like a painting, or perhaps a fairth. Golden sunlight streamed down between the trees and fell upon the mossy forest floor. They had left the road, if there had ever really been one, and were traveling through the undergrowth. The lead elf always seemed to find a way through, no matter how thickly clustered the trees were. It was beautiful, and no mistake, but something about it unnerved Jarvis. They had not seen another living thing besides themselves since they entered the wood the day before, animal or otherwise. He got the distinct impression that the forest was watching him, and he craned his neck around for the umpteenth time, but there was nothing.
If Arien had set a brusque pace, Faelin set an even faster one. They had left Ilia Feon before dawn, and Jarvis found that try as he might to remember the details of the elven citadel, he was unable. The moment he pinned something down it would slip away. It was like trying to catch smoke with his bare hands. The experience disturbed him. He had no doubt it was an enchantment of some kind, likely to ensure that he could not share what he had seen with the enemy. He only wished he had been alerted to it beforehand, and felt slighted that they did not trust him. The number of elves they were with had increased to thirty six, and now all were armed with short swords and wore curiasses and greaves of a curious substance. It almost appeared to be a dark, milky-golden marble, but it gave no gleam, and most of the unit had applied an uneven pattern of stripes and splotches in light green pigment to break up their outline and camouflage themselves.
Time was another difficult thing to divine. The angle and hue of the sun were obscured by the trees, so that he found himself counting the seconds, perhaps to make sure that time was passing at all. For some reason, the idea that it had stopped did not seem so farfetched in a place such as this. At that moment, a doe hopped out of the brush and stood directly over their trail, bobtail twitching slightly. It did not seem alarmed at their presence in the slightest, but rather looked the lead elf straight in the eye and stared unblinkingly for a full ten seconds before turning and continuing on its way. The lead elf turned back to Faelin, and they talked in low whispers that Jarvis could not hear.
"What's going on? Is something wrong?" Jarvis asked Arien quietly
"The village where I live lies inside the old growth. Old though we are, elves are not the only keepers of these woods. We must assuage their unease before we can enter." She replied
Jarvis wanted to ask who and what they were assuaging, but he suddenly felt like he should keep his voice down. He felt now more than ever that he was being watched. At last they began moving again, and Jarvis could see a difference in the trees around them. Their color began to change from the smooth deciduous to a rougher, redder texture. The trunks of these trees were truly massive, so that ten men would be unable to encircle one. At a separation between two mighty trees, they stopped again. The roots of these trees were so large that they had warped the ground underneath them, making small hillocks in the densely packed foliage. Jarvis suddenly realized that it was very quiet. The birdsong had died away without him noticing. Even the elves looked tense, which worried him greatly.
Then, something stepped into the gateway between the two trees. It looked vaguely like a woman, but instead of skin a rough bark made up the outlines of her body. In the place where a woman's eyes should have been there were two orbs of light, the same golden color as the light that filtered through the branches, yet amplified several times. Despite the uniformity of its eye, Jarvis could tell exactly where it was looking, and that was at him.
He felt something strange move across his thoughts and it made him shiver. The sound of leaves rustling in the wind and a strange, tuneless music echoed somewhere in his mind. Then the being turned its gaze away and the feeling passed.
"Did it say anything to you?" Arien whispered.
"No, what is it?"
"A spriggan. Spirits that have accepted bodies from the forest, in return for their service. They guard the old growth. They shepard the wild ones."
Faelin and the spriggan stared at each other for a long time, neither uttering a word. Finally the creature tilted its head back and sang a single word to the silent air. It reverberated in the upper reaches of the canopy and sent a pair of squirrels skittering across the branches above them. Then the spirit turned and walked into one of the trees. It seemed to absorb it entirely without resistance, and the glowing light vanished. Faelin looked back at the rest of the group, as if he was ensuring they were all still present.
Then the column formed up and they moved out again, over the invisible threshold, and deeper into the forest. A bit further on there was a stream, which they crossed, and beyond the stand of trees that clustered along its banks, Jarvis spotted the first signs of habitation. The thick foliage overhead gave way to a glade of nine larger trees, which rested at the bottom of a shallow depression in the land. The weeds and vegetation were trimmed, so that paths ventured this way and that over and between the massive tangle of roots beneath. He could see other structures that seemed to be a part of the tree itself, bridges between trunks and houses, staircases that spiraled up through the branches to the top. He could also see a few elves on the paths, some sitting in groups and talking in lilting voices that sounded almost like music. One was playing an instrument, and its sound enchanted Jarvis, momentarily distracting him from all else. The player stopped as they approached and there were merry voices as the elven soldiers greeted their kin.
Vidaliah's slender fingernails beat a rhythm on the railing of the balcony. Her aide stood beside her, reading from a sheet of parchment. She knew it was important, but she was unusually distracted. She stared out towards the edge of the north tree, where the troops from Ilia Feon were slowly making their way towards her hall.
"-has managed to captured Arroughs. They intend to march on Dras-Leona within a fortnight. The Empire still hasn't withdrawn it's troops from our southern frontier. Iszlandi will call for our aide any day now to defend Ilia Feon. ...My lady?"
The question stirred her from her reverie.
"Let us postpone our stratagems until Faelin's company arrives. He will want to be a part of any decisions we make."
"As you wish." The aide replied and retreated back into the doorway and down the steps.
Vidaliah staid, and watched the procession draw closer. Her heart made a funny lurch when she spotted Arien. Though she had seen her little girl grow into a woman, it was a hollow experience seen through various two-way mirrors and scrying. The thought of actually being able to physically touch her daughter sent an uncharacteristic tingle up her spine. She was anxious. What would she say, after a childhood apart, raised mostly in human hands? They were allies, of course, of noble birth themselves, but they were still only human, and manners was but a small part of being royalty.
A single human accompanied them. A worn traveling cloak was clasped about his shoulders. His features were lean and purposeful, and underneath his flinty brows lay two intensely blue eyes. She shut her eyes and reached out to him. His mind resembled a pool of water that had been shaken up. Currents moved thick and fast through it, whipping up silt from the bottom and obscuring it's contents. The more she tried to move beyond the surface, the less she could see. She withdrew, not wanting to alert him to her presence. He was an odd specimen to be sure. She had, of course, been expecting them both. Faelin had scryed her immediately, and Vidaliah had been incredulous, but it was true. Her daughter was back, appearing out of the Hadarac like a phantom, along with some human named Jarvis.
She rolled the name around on her tongue. It was a typical human moniker, and carried none of the power that an elven name did. With a small sigh she stood and made her way down the spiral staircase to her inner chambers.
Jarvis and Arien sat on the gently curving wooden benches, waiting. Faelin had disappeared inside, and the rest of the elves had dispersed, leaving the two of them alone with the statue-like guards at the door and their own thoughts. He had been shown the barracks, a longhouse suspended in midair between two of the towering trees. Everything seemed organic, as though it had simply grown that way, including the elf-made structures and even the benches they sat on. When he had asked Arien about this she gave a rather distracted answer that they were sung into their final shapes, a statement which Jarvis could not make hide nor tail of, but, he assumed, probably had something to do with magic.
Magic. The places was bursting at the gills with it. Ever since his surprising display in the Hadarac, Jarvis had been able to feel its presence, shifting the pillars of the world in ways obvious and subtle. This sense had only become apparent when they had entered the forest. Here the air tingled with the potential energy of ancient words and oaths, some long forgotten. It was a feeling that put him ill at ease, and being surrounded by the strange minds of elves constantly, hearing that haunting melody whose tune he couldn't quite capture, was not doing him any favors.
At last the guards moved aside, the doors swung to, and Faelin reappeared. He was frowning slightly, and there were small shadows forming underneath his usually bright eyes.
"She is waiting for you."
Arien stood, and Jarvis joined her. Together they walked through the double doors, which shut behind them with a soft thud. Vidaliah sat upon an ornately carved (or sung, rather) wooden chair. Instead of a crown, a garland of unobtrusive flowers capped her flowing hair. His first impression was that she bore a striking resemblance to Arien, save for the deeper cut of the lines upon her face, and the cold, calculating way her eyes regarded them. She had the characteristic grace and beauty of the elves, but also an icy curtness about her, the way her eyes slashed over you demanded a prompt answer. These same cold eyes swept briefly over Jaris before alighting upon Arien. She smiled a genuinely pretty smile and stood, crossing the room in a second and embracing her.
"Arien, my dear daughter, it has been too long."
Arien said nothing, but returned the embrace. Jarvis saw her eyes swim behind a film of tears, but none spilled onto her cheeks. They broke apart and Vidaliah's eyes grew cold once again as she addressed him.
"And you, Jarvis, son of Hadley, what strange fate brings both you and my daughter to this hold? It is not our custom to allow humans this far into Du Weldenvarden."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Arien open her mouth, but he spoke first. He had one chance to make a superior impression.
"Atra esterní ono thelduin. Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr. Un du evarínya ono varda." He said, speaking all three parts of the traditional elven greeting.
"You suspicion is wise, and well warranted Vidaliah-svit-kona, but I assure you, I am fracai eom du alfa." He said, slowly and deliberately, using the ancient language to swear that he was a friend of the elves.
He worded it carefully, so that it would not bind him should the elves decided he was not a friend of theirs.
Vidaliah seemed a little taken aback, and did not speak, so he continued.
"I understand your mistrust of our race, but neither your daughter nor I would have made it this far if I was anything but trustworthy."
" That may be, but what has brought you here?"
"There was a..." He glanced at Arien. "...disagreement between Jormunder and I, and we thought it prudent to leave before he decided we were an enemy as well."
Vidaliah nodded and began to walk slowly back to her seat. Now was not the time to press the issue of why.
"I cannot take issue with that characterization of Jormunder."
"I would not, of course, impose upon your hospitality without offering something in return."
"Oh, and what is that?" Vidaliah asked, her thin ears pricking slightly.
"The only gift I have left to give" He said, taking to one knee "my service."
Now the elfin matron was watching him with a slight air of suspicion mixed with curiosity. Elves were usually as inscrutable as a polished stone, except when they chose otherwise, but Jarvis could clearly see that he had caught her off guard.
"Your service?"
"We have seen the enemy's intentions with our own eyes, as have you. If it would please you, I would pledge to protect this forest as though it were my own."
Vidaliah regarded him for a moment, as though assessing the merit of his offer. Jarvis maintained unblinking eye contact, a shared stare that seemed to last an eternity. Just as he felt he would tip forward and fall headfirst into her deep brown eyes, a sly smile cracked one side of her face. It was a most unusual expression for an elf, and it deeply unsettled him, though he did not show it externally.
"I accept your service, Jarvis, son of Hadley, but you must swear an oath to me, personally, in the ancient language."
Again, Jarvis heard rather than saw Arien open her mouth to protest, and again he spoke over her.
"I hold the value of my word as highly as any spell, but if it is what you desire, so be it."
Vidaliah placed her palm upon his forhead and he tensed. The hand was cold as ice.
"Repeat after me. Pömnuria sverd er onr, fra thornessa dag eom dauth."
He repeated the phrase, clearly and succinctly, knowing that it meant his freedom until he was released from it. He felt a shiver run up his spine and the silken curtains that disguised a high-set window fluttered as a slight breeze filled the hall, and then died away.
"Rise."
He pushed himself to his feet and stood, still staring unblinkingly at the matron.
"You have proven your loyalty to my satisfaction. Before you got to battle, seek out the blacksmith Haina. She will see to your material needs. Go now."
Feeling both relieved that the meeting was over, and also anxious at what he had promised, Jarvis gave a short bow and turned to leave. He half expected Arien to accompany him, but he did not wait for her when she failed to follow.
His boots made a patter on the polished stone floor as he exited the hall. Vidaliah didn't know what to make of the human. He had deferred to her will immediately, yet it was not the feigned deference a subordinate or lackey would show, but a deeper conviction. And his mind, that strange, swirling, misty mind had remained as inscrutable as ever. Arien still stood there, still as a statue. Vidaliah didn't know where to begin. There had been so much time lost...
"It does my heart good to see you home again."
"I am still trying to determine if this is indeed my home."
"How could you say such a thing? You were born under these very boughs. You were lulled to sleep by the wind in these branches. This is your home, Arien, and I wish I could have had you here, to show you its fullness as the other children of our race learn."
"But you didn't."
The words stung her, and for a moment, her mouth raced ahead of her mind.
"What I did, I did for your sake alone! You cannot even begin to imagine the sacrifice I-!"
Then she caught up with herself and stopped.
"Please, Arien, let us not open old wounds."
"Old? It has only been half a century since you sent me from my supposed 'home'. No, this wound is fresh."
"Then let your stay here be a poultice. I know you have a wandering spirit, my child, and I see that I am no longer able to change your mind, if ever I was, but please, for me sake, take in all that you can whilst you are here. You have a future here. I cannot be matron of this hold forever. You are my only child, and these titles must run along the same line, or else be dispersed forever.."
Arien was smiling. It was not a smile of mirth, nor was it one of sarcasm, but the bemused look of someone who knows something to other does not.
"Then let it pass. I have no desire to take up the banner of your feuds. Besides-" she said, smile widening slightly "-even if I live to be twice as old as you, I doubt I will ever be half as shrewd."
Vidaliah did not know whether this was a compliment or a rebuke, so she took it as both.
"Perhaps not. But you should take care, Arien. You will find that although you do not believe yourself to be royalty, your kinsmen can see you for what you are, and will treat you accordingly. You should conduct yourself in a manner worthy of their respect, and mine."
"Thank you for your sage advice, mother. I will keep it in mind." She replied, and her mother almost laughed. Almost.
"Spoken like a true diplomat."
(This story is going back on active status so stick around, there's PLENTY more to come.)