Chapter Seven: Arrival
Their Majesties, the Col1 and Cel2 of Si Kesol Thysaer, were waiting in the meadow beyond the portal. Arrayed there in all its simple splendor was Si Tys os ei Syral Mestaes3. They were resplendent in the finery of the season: the soft blues and silvers of winter. Here and there were sprinkled Jhondraelaer dressed in dark grey, as Maerosi was. In the shadows of the trees behind Si Tys4 stood a Jhondraer in all black.
Only the Col, Cel and Volaer 5 wore differently. All three were dressed in pure white, though the flash of silver embroidery and sapphire jewelry showed in the clear sun.
The three humans stood side-by-side with their animal guards. Maerosi was before them, making introductions. Tylia slid up behind as the portal winked out; only Petrius and Korthus acknowledged her.
Ignoring Maerosi for the time being, Tylia scanned The Court, nodding to those who nodded to her, before locking eyes with a Jhondraer standing just behind and to the left of Their Majesties. He gave the slightest of bows, his brilliantly emerald eyes full of wry amusement as he glanced her up and down. Tylia gave a rakish grin in reply, lifting her chin slightly to draw attention to her choker. The Jhondraer brought up a hand to hide a wide smile.
"Of course, Si Tys is aware of Pelaer6 Tylandraes and her two companions," Maerosi finished, glancing over Eileen's shoulder to meet Tylia's eyes. With a curt nod, Tylia moved to stand beside Scorpius and bowed deeply.
"Your Majesties, Your Highness, Meistaraes7," Tylia began as she straightened. "You honor myself and my allies with this visit. These three are the first humans to see The Guarding Forest and The Court of a Thousand Summers in over ten millennia. That Si Thysaer is finally open again to visitors is a step in the direction of the future. We thank you."
And who says a Pasaer cannot be humble? Tylia inquired of Petrius with wry good humor.
A Pasaer is humble only to reach higher on the ladder of society, Petrius reminded her calmly.
True.
"It is you who honors us," the Queen murmured in soft, quiet English. "You, Tylandraes, are of our blood and are welcome always in this place of your birth. Your friends, if they prove to be friends to the Aelael peoples during this visit, will be welcome ever after."
Once she was finished speaking, Si Tys broke formation and began, hesitantly, to mingle with the newcomers. Maerosi, true to her word, stayed with them. Another Eisadael, Meiryrdaes, attached herself to Pyra while a young nobleman, Masaelaer, came to talk with Scorpius.
The Jhondraer that Tylia had been watching came over to her and scooped her into an undignified hug. True to her current Pasaelael attitude, she shoved him away, face disgusted, but her eyes were happy.
"Meistaraes, refrain from such actions," Tylia scolded. The Spymaster yanked a loose strand of her hair, his face solemn but his eyes merry.
"You never call me by title," he complained. In a less refined individual, the statement might have been called whining. "Call me by my name, Tylia."
"As you wish, Myrdaeraes," Tylia agreed, rolling dark green eyes. "Or would you prefer 'Kalaraes8?'"
"Either is excellent," replied Myrdaeraes cheerfully.
"Excuse me." Scorpius had come up behind Tylia, Masaelaer at his side. Both bowed to Myrdaeraes, who gave a light bow in return.
"A pleasure, young one," the Spymaster said. "Your name is Scorpius, is it not?"
"Yes, Spymaster—"
"Myrdaeraes," the tall, dark-haired Aer corrected, one finger raised in a polite appeal for Scorpius' attention.
"Myrdaeraes, then," Scorpius agreed, then turned to Tylia. "Your pardons, but did you just call him 'Kalaraes?'"
"I did not," Tylia replied with a nod to Masaelaer. "Though I could, if it pleased me."
"We Aelaer are often older than we look," Myrdaeraes commented with a laugh. "Even her."
Myrdaeraes gestured to his granddaughter and moved off to talk with Eileen, who was instantly charmed by the Aer's grace and courtesy.
"What did he mean, Tylandraes?" Scorpius asked curiously. Tylia waggled gray-blue fingers at him and grinned.
"Ask around, Scorpius," she replied with a shrug and a wink to Masaelaer. "You'll find out all kinds of secrets about me."
And she promptly wandered off to speak with Their Majesties.
"Your Grace?" Scorpius turned to his companion, curiosity clear in his eyes.
"Call me by my name, please, Thol," Masaelaer replied with an easy smile. He was dark-haired and handsome, dark green eyes were soft, his smile genuine. "The Spymaster merely meant that Tyrol9 Tylandraes is older than you might assume."
"If you'll call me by mine. How old?" Scorpius demanded, though he kept his voice polite. On first name terms or not, the Jhondraer before him was still nobility.
"Twenty-one years, as humans count the time," Masaelaer replied easily, then shook his head at the shock in Scorpius' face. "She is still very young."
"Twenty-one…" Scorpius turned to watch Tylia as she moved through the crowed, stopping to chat with this Peji10 and that Shasylaer11. "Wait, did you say 'Tyrol?' As in 'Cousin?'"
"Yes, I did," Masaelaer replied with a shrug, then laughed at the renewed shock in Scorpius' face. "She is my cousin, yes, as much as Her Majesty is my sister."
"Wait." Scorpius took a deep breath, trying to analyze the information he had just been handed. "If you're a Peji, that would make Tylandraes a Pelaer, wouldn't it?"
"Yes, it would."
"And if Her Majesty is your sister, but you aren't a Voli12, that would mean that she married into the Royal Line, right?"
"Yes."
"It also means that Tylia is cousin to royalty."
"Yes."
"That's insane. Can we change the subject?" Scorpius head hurt from trying to assimilate the fact that he had been associating with the cousin of the Queen of the Light Elves for the last week or so. Masaelaer nodded with a slight smile. "If you don't mind my asking, Masaelaer, how old are you?"
"Several human centuries," Masaelaer replied without hesitation. "Three quarters of a millennium give or take a few years. Why would I mind?"
"In my culture, it's rude to ask a person's age," Scorpius replied with a shrug.
"Of course," Masaelaer agreed with a slight bow, catching on quickly. "Because your race weakens as it ages, almost without exception. In our culture, age is a thing to be respected, even celebrated, for with age comes wisdom."
"That makes sense," commented a wry voice from behind Scorpius. He turned to see who it was and refrained from rolling his eyes at his sister and her guide. "Scorpius, this is Meiryrdaes, an Armsmaiden of Her Highness, the Volaer. Meiryrdaes, this is my brother, Scorpius."
"It is my pleasure to meet you, Scorpius," Meiryrdaes commented, bowing a little. She smiled, but it looked forced. Her pale green eyes never stayed in one place for long, flicking here and there as though looking for something. Her long, dark brown hair was pulled back into a braid. Scorpius could count six knives on her person, plus her bow and sword, which was deeply curved.
"The pleasure is mine," Scorpius replied, but he didn't mean the words. He met her eyes squarely when she narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious. "Your Grace, this is my sister, Pyra."
The Slytherin shook his head slightly with exasperation as Masaelaer took his sister's hand and brushed it with his lips. Pyra blushed slightly.
"Pyra, this is His Grace, Peji Masaelaer."
"It is my pleasure to meet such a lovely young human," Masaelaer said with a smile and a bow.
"It is my pleasure to meet such a handsome young Elf," Pyra replied; returning the smile if not the bow. Scorpius scoffed under his breath; what would his sister say if he told her that this 'handsome young Elf' was seven hundred and fifty years old? A sudden pressure on her arm made her jump, and Masaelaer laughed quietly.
"You must learn to listen more," he commented as Pyra turned to glare at Tylia.
"I apologize for pulling you away from such an interesting conversation," Tylia said smoothly, removing her hand from Pyra's arm with a nod to the Peji and a flash of a smile to Scorpius. "But there's someone I'd like you to meet, Pyra."
"Might I stay here?" Meiryrdaes inquired with a polite bow. "I would like to continue speaking with His Grace and Scorpius."
"As you wish," Tylia replied with a careless shrug. "Pyra, come."
Korthus took off from Scorpius' shoulder, creeling loudly before vanishing into the nearby trees. Petrius was still by Eileen, who was talking with Maerosi and the young man dressed all in black that Tylia had spotted earlier.
Few people knew that this Jhondraer, dark haired and deep-eyed, world-weary though young, was much more than he appeared to be. Most, even of Si Tys, believed him to be no more than a high-ranking nobleman, head of the Volaer's Personal Guard. In reality, he was the Tyrn Voli13, Shondral.
Threading their way through Si Tys, Tylia introduced Pyra to a dizzying array of nobility before stopping at the tree line. A Jhondraer was waiting there. She was shorter than most Aelaer, only five feet tall. Her chestnut hair was laced with streaks of blonde from the sun. Her eyes were richly chocolate, a color that wasn't often seen among Jhondraelaer, and they were full of mischief and curiosity.
"Pyra, this is Her Grace, Pelaer Saeras," Tylia said, bowing to the Aer, who hugged her as she rose.
"Don't get all formal on me, Tylia," Saeras commanded with a wicked grin. Giving Pyra a measuring look, she continued in the Condraelael tongue. "Me nosse apilya.14"
"She is Peji Masaelaer' sister," Tylia continued as she gently pushed Saeras back. "Saeras, this is Pyra Malfoy. Pyra, if you're curious about anything, especially Aelaer culture, Saeras is the one you want to talk to."
Pyra's eyes lit up and she began shooting rapid-fire questions, which Saeras answered with a grin before asking a few of her own. Tylia, satisfied, took off into the trees, leaving Si Tys and her three friends behind. Petrius would guard them well, with the help of the many sholol he had befriended on previous visits. Korthus was gathering information on her behalf. Everything was going perfectly.
So why did she feel apprehension inching up her spine like some gods-cursed bug?
A hundred meters into the forest, Myrdaeraes was waiting with a highly amused look on his face.
"Do you enjoy manipulating people, Tylandraes?"
"You know the answer to that, Myrdaeraes," Tylia replied with a grin that made her white teeth flash against ashy blue skin.
"Answer me anyway, pandraes os madyrn,15" Myrdaeraes commanded, with a mirrored grin.
"I should not have to answer so simple a question, Myl os jhol.16" Tylia loved this game, this name-calling and seeing how long she could keep from laughing.
"Ah, but simple questions do not always have simple answers, Molaeslaes col,17" the Spymaster refuted, raising a single long digit to emphasize his point.
"But this one does, Vyraelys col,18" Tylia replied, laughing at last. After a moment to emphasize his victory, Myrdaeraes joined her in her laughter.
"To be more serious, Tyl." Myrdaeraes sobered quickly, his near-black eyes suddenly full of worry and sadness. "Have you learned anything? The Serdyr become more bold with every day. Only three days ago they took Thaeraecaes."
Tylia's eyes blazed with renewed fury. She had already heard of the death of her cousin. She had been Jhondraes' sister and a good friend. She was also Volaer Selaesas' Jhadia ail Sharol 19. That the Trantzvlos could get so close to the royalty of Si Kesol Thysaer was worrying.
"Nothing concrete, Kalaraes," Tylia replied, suddenly thinking of something she hadn't before. Had the image Hagrid seen, the one of a young Jhondraer woman getting beaten, been Thaeraecaes? "But I'm working on it."
"You're hiding something from me," Myrdaeraes stated, a warning clear in his voice.
"Don't, Myrdaeraes." Tylia's voice was full of resignation—and caution.
"Don't what?" Myrdaeraes demanded, irritated with is granddaughter for the first time in his memory.
"Don't ask me to explain. I can't," Tylia replied wearily.
"Why not?" the Spymaster was truly upset now, his eyes blazingly angry and flashing a lighter green in his fury and his posture rigid. "There are lives at stake here, Tylandraes! You are withholding information from me that could get people killed."
Suddenly angry herself, Tylia leapt forward, stopping with her nose an inch from her grandfather's. She knew she was doing the right thing. Just because he didn't understand didn't give him the right to question her.
"And if I explain it could cause a war." Her voice was cold, clear and full of venom. Myrdaeraes stumbled back against a silver-barked tree, startled and more than a little afraid. He had seen what his granddaughter could do when she was angry, especially when she was acting like a Pasaer. "I am not your enemy, Myrdaeraes. Do not treat me as such. If my information were not so dangerous to the Aelaer peoples as a whole, I would tell you gladly. Be silent and trust my judgment. You used to, you know."
She turned on her heel and stalking back to the clearing, glowering in her fury. The Jhondraelaer who saw her avoided her, bowing slightly before hurrying out of her way. Her expression did not lift until she heard Their Majesties announce that it was past time for their guests to enjoy the hospitality of the palace and of the Jhondraelaer. Scorpius, Pyra and Eileen, along with Petrius, Peji Masaelaer, Pelaer Saeras and Maerosi, were gathered to walk behind the royalty.
His Highness the Tyrn Voli was now walking with his sister, head bowed politely maintain his 'lower status.' Tylia smiled wickedly when she saw the strain in Selaesas' face. She knew for a fact Her Highness despised her brother's deception. She also knew that Selaesas understood its purpose.
While it was nearly impossible for the Serdyr to strike at Their Majesties—who rarely left Si Thysaer—Their Highnesses were much more often at risk, as they often went to visit the other Aelaer nations as ambassadors. The Tyrn Voli would be the perfect target if he were known.
Col Shondrelaes and Cel Valas stood on either side of their children and began down a wide greensward path that appeared suddenly on the east side of the clearing. The guests walked behind, followed by Si Tys. Tylia saw Myrdaeraes slip in to walk with Eileen.
Tylia took to the trees beside the path, easily keeping pace with the large procession. About two hundred meters along the path there was a burst of laughter and a dozen or so Jhondraelael children burst from the trees. They were dressed in bright colors—only Si Tys and Their Majesties stuck to the seasons—and they danced around and through the company, shouting many things in the Aelael tongues, much of it nonsensical and all of it beautiful.
As the procession rounded a slow corner in the path, the children vanished as quickly as they had appeared, leaving a silence so deep that when the humans gasped at the view before them, the sound was clearly audible.
In a massive clearing grew an enormous tree, the largest that any creature on earth could ever hope to see. She was twelve hundred feet across at the base and she narrowed very little on the way to her soaring two thousand foot canopy. Her bark was a dark silver-gray and her leaves glowed burnished gold in the sunlight.
"Welcome to the Royal Palace," the Col announced proudly. "Her name is Tyraesi."
It was only after this statement that Scorpius noticed that the great tree had been carved hollow, with many levels—distinguishable by the levels of windows, though the heartwood showed brilliantly silver through the open doors on the first level.
"How—excuse me, Your Majesties?" Eileen squeaked, and then coughed. When she spoke again, her voice was stronger. "Could I ask a question?"
"Of course," replied the Col with a humble bow.
"How-How could a culture as loving of nature as yours harm such a beautiful thing?"
A sound like the rustling of thousands of leaves in the wind made Eileen jump slightly before she realized that it was the laughter of the entire Tys. Tylia, still perched in her tree, laughed in a more conventional manner.
"Dear Thol," Selaesas began with a gentle laugh. The Volaer's brilliantly green eyes were filled with soft amusement. "We would never harm her. And she is not a 'thing.' She is an entity, the heart of Si Thysaer and of our people."
"But-but you gutted her," Eileen objected, confused enough to accept the idea of a tree being female without comment.
"No. We Sang her hollow with her own permission," replied a voice that Eileen didn't recognize, but it seemed to hold an immeasurable, undeniable authority. A slim Jhondraer seemed to materialize in front of Eileen, who jumped again. His hair was black but his eyes were the same burnished gold as Tyraesi's leaves.
"Eileen," Myrdaeraes began with a bow to the newcomer that the entire Tys mirrored. "Might I introduce His Highness, the youngest of our Voli? His name is Masys and he is Tyraesi's Aelai20 to our people. Once every thousand years such an Envoy is born, one who can speak with the heart of our people. Their eyes are always that color, the color of her leaves."
"You doubt my words, Eileen?" Masys' voice was soft and his gaze direct, but the cloak of power had not gone away. Eileen nodded tremblingly and Masys smiled, pleased that she would not lie, even through her nervousness. His smile was a thing of the same sudden beauty as the first bloom of spring. "Come with me, then, if you wish to know the truth."
He held out his hand to her, his faintly tanned skin stark against the dark grey of his clothes. She took the offer without hesitation and followed when he drew her through the crowd.
Tylia leapt down into the empty space left by Eileen's departure. Pyra and Scorpius jumped, but Si Tys did not even acknowledge her presence.
"What's going on, Tylia?" Pyra demanded, turning to her as Si Tys began to follow Eileen and Masys.
"She's going to speak with Tyraesi," Tylia replied tonelessly, but her eyes blazed with curiosity. In all her studies, Tylia had never heard of any but Si Aelai conversing with the great tree and certainly never a human.
By the time the entire Tys, guests and all, had passed the great doors, Eileen's palms were flat on the central heartwood, which glowed a faint silver in the light from many torches in the hall. Masys stood just behind her, his arms along hers and his hands just next to hers. Both were smiling, eyes closed and heads back slightly.
After a few moments, Eileen stumbled back, right into His Highness, who pulled away more slowly, keeping his arms around the human so that she wouldn't fall. Eileen turned as though half asleep to look up into Masys' golden eyes.
"She's alive," the young woman breathed, her eyes wide with wonder.
"Did I not tell you?" Masys inquired with another brilliantly beautiful smile. There was no pride or arrogance in his voice, merely happiness that Eileen now understood. "She is magnificent, though a bit…heady for the first few Tystelol21."
"Very heady," Eileen agreed, returning his smile and pulling gently away from his arms, which were still around her waist. He let her go with a slight bow.
"You get used to the age of her, after a while."
Eileen nodded and gave him another, shyer smile before moving back to Myrdaeraes' side. Petrius rubbed his large head against her hand and she petted him absently as Masys addressed Si Tys.
"We bid welcome to our guests, do Tyraesi and I! Welcome and well met! 'Enjoy my rooms,' she bids you, 'and if you become lost, you need only ask one of my people or speak the name of my Aelai and you will be recovered, for I will send him to you to help you find your way again.' Go, Thol, be merry and explore!"
"One thing more do we ask you," interjected the Col before anyone could get going. "Most of Tyraesi's doors will open with the slightest touch. You are welcome in any of these rooms. But there are some places that are private, and those doors will not open. We ask that, if you come across such a door, you will please not attempt to force your way."
"Also," added the Cel with a raised hand and a patient smile. "If you find an empty room that you like, please call Masys so that we may know where you are to sleep. You will be with us for seven sunsets, we are told. We wish you to be comfortable."
With a gracious wave of her hand, she dismissed Si Tys and the guests. It was only then that any of the humans noticed that, at the far end of the great, high-ceilinged hall that they were in, there was a table heavily laden with food and drink.
"The drinks in clear cups are water, or juices of various kinds," Saeras commented as they wandered over. "Red is wine—light stuff, but don't mix it with any other color."
"Why not?" Pyra inquired curiously.
"Because you'll get appallingly sick," replied the Peji in a dry voice.
"Quite," Saeras agreed with a mocking smile for her brother. "Blue is ale—headier than the wine, but safe to mix. Green is whiskey strong enough to knock out a Pas.22"
"'Dwarf?'" Scorpius asked, instantly intent on a culture he didn't know.
"One of the rarer Magical Peoples, I'm afraid," Saeras replied with a smile to Scorpius, who returned it with a bow. "Amazing with smithcraft and architecture and their poetry is not for the lighthearted. Excellent with anything that has anything to do with stone. They also brew many fine alcohols and are very resilient to the effects of alcohol."
"So a drink strong enough to knock out a Dwarf, a Pas—" Eileen began, though her eyes were on Masys as he stood in communication with Tyraesi again, his face rapt.
"—is exceedingly potent," Masaelaer finished, picking up a glass of wine and offering it to Tylia, who declined, and then to Pyra, who accepted it and sipped cautiously. It was sweet beyond words without being sickeningly so and had a tart aftertaste that balanced perfectly with the initial sweetness.
Tylia took a blue cup; Scorpius a clear one filled with a golden liquid. Eileen took the juice that Masaelaer offered her, sipping it absently. All of the Aelaer took red cups except for Meiryrdaes, who took a green one. This Tylia noted with interest: few Jhondraelaer had the stomach for Pasol Shori23, as the drink was called, though many Pasaelaer loved the stuff. In the Underdark, the drink was called Hargluk Vlos24.
Without a word, Tylia slipped away, cup in hand, intent on getting to her rooms and sleeping. She brushed Masys' shoulder as she passed him, though she received no response; she hadn't expected one.
"Tyrol, may I speak with you?" A rich, deep voice called to her and she smiled. She paused at the foot of the wide staircase and turned to see Col Shondrelaes coming toward her. Her smile was not there for him to see, though, and she regarded him disdainfully.
"If you must, Valuk25," she replied and he flinched at the address in the Pasaelael tongue. She smiled wickedly at his discomfort.
Stop it, Tylandraes! Tylia looked about and saw Petrius' scarlet eyes glaring at her from the crowd.
No.
"Please, do not stop your progress on my account," Shondrelaes commented, recovering himself quickly and gesturing for her to continue up the stairs, which she did. "Are you displeased with how Si Tys has treated your friends? Or are you merely playing your usual game?"
"I was not aware that I ever played a game with you, Valuk," Tylia replied, a warning hard in her voice. Then she continued grudgingly as they climbed out of sight of Si Tys. "But you and your Tys have treated my allies as well as may be expected."
"You are a part of Si Tys as well, Pelaer," the Col reminded her gently. He stepped back as Tylia whirled to face him, but no fear showed in his face; unlike Myrdaeraes, this Aer had never seen what she could do when angry.
"I am part of no culture, Valuk Darthirii26," Tylia spat, venom in her voice and annoyance in her blazingly green eyes that this… Darthirii d'gorch'n'nehr vlos27 would try to make a pet of her. "Not yours, not that of my cousins in the Har'oloth28, not that of my allies at Hogwarts. Do not attempt to lay claim to me, Valuk. Do not attempt to tame me. You will fail."
"You would accuse a Jhondraer of trying to tame anything?" Shondrelaes inquired blandly, no accusation and just a hint of incredulity in his voice.
"Every time I come here, you try to trap me in the machinations of Si Tys," Tylia replied with no less venom. "You offer me a cage of beauty and of laughter but it is a cage nonetheless. I will accept caging no more than your precious Lamela will."
"I offer you a home, Tyrol," the Col corrected easily, eagerly, though a flash of discomfort crossed his eyes at the mention of the sholol that accompanied him.
"And once accepted, you would have me fall prey to the predators in Si Tys, never again free to make my own way. Never free to leave this place but at your bidding. All of Si Thysaer was tamed millennia ago when, between the cestal and the Pasaelaer, this island became a prison!"
Tylia continued up the stairs, leaving a flustered Shondrelaes to return to Si Tys. Twelve stories up—130 feet above the forest floor—Tylia finally stopped stalking up the stairs and started down a corridor. Outside a plain wooden door, she stopped entirely. She touched the door and it opened of its own accord.
The room was small compared to many in the palace. A small, plush bed—the mattress stuffed with aromatic leaves and herbs—dominated one corner. A little window gave her a view of the forest below. Another doorway led into a bathing room and a small chest-of-drawers was built into the wall across from the bed, near the door. The entire room was done in soft, silvery blues and greens. Her black bag was resting on the bed, a pair of letters next to it.
Her eyes lit up at the sight of the letters and she stepped into the room quickly, letting the door shut behind her. With the patience born of her Aelael blood, she neatly put her clothes in the drawers and hid the crystal ball, which she had brought with her, in a cubby that only Tyraesi and Tylia herself knew about. Tylia had Sung it out herself without the knowledge of any other Aer.
Only when that was finished did she allow herself to settle onto the bed and open the black enveloped letter that waited for her.
1King
2Queen
3The Court of a Thousand Summers
4The Court
5Princess
6Duchess
7Spymaster
8Grandfather
9 Cousin
10Duke
11Baroness
12Prince
13Crown Prince
14We're family, after all.
15Daughter of shadows
16Son of light
17Silkweaver's kin; a reference to Jhyr, often called 'the Silkenweaver.' Indeed, House Zauval is named after this moniker for Jhyr; Zauval translates to 'children of the Silkenweaver.'
18Protector's kin; a reference to Tysaelyl Jhasaerol, god of the Jhondraelaer, often called 'the Protector.'
19Lady in Waiting
20Envoy; a title among the Light Elves that one is born into. All Envoys have eyes the color of burnished gold and can speak with Tyraesi
21Communions; the accepted term for speaking with Tyraesi
22Dwarf
23Dwarfin Whiskey
24Dwarf Blood
25King
26Elf; generally used as a derogatory term for Surface Elves, all those who claim Elven lineage but are not Pasaelaer
27Elf of Stainless blood; a phrase that Tylia came up with to insult an Elf of a single culture line
28Underdark