Episode 3: The Changeling's Mother

12th of Matrinalis, 4:86 East

Anthea covered the chain sickle with a white blanket. Her father wished her a pleasant walk, and told her to be careful, as activity near Bastium had been rumored to have increased. Anthea promised to be careful, and she left the gates. In those days elves were always allowed in, though few were allowed out. The gates weren't hidden to those who had earned their vallaslin, regardless of their magical prowess—luckily for Anthea. She was one of the Blind, and could not use magic. Her vallaslin marked her as a true da'len elvhenan, and the stylized magenta marking on her forehead—her brother had claimed it looked like a halla skull, and she agreed for the most part—meant atisha, or peace.

The scion of the Sarethari family sat in the clearing, enjoying the summer sun. She stretched out, picking a flower and plucking off the petals idly. She folded her legs and opened up her lunch, beginning to eat in the sun. She heard a twig snap in the forest, and Anthea jumped up. An elven man stumbled out of the forest, knocking her into the dirt. Angrily, she stood and began to shout, but she felt terrible about it when she saw how he flinched.

He was a rather handsome man, though perhaps a few years older than her. His hair had grown long, and his eyes were as green as the grass they stood on. But as she not-so-subtly ogled him, she saw the obvious signs that something was wrong. He cowered in her presence, and Anthea could see scars on his arms and legs. He was bleeding from open wounds on his back. Anthea pulled out her blanket and dabbed the wounds. While she did her best to treat him, she offered him her lunch, which he devoured greedily. "How did you find this place?" Anthea asked, moving his hair out of the way. She saw wounds left by a life of slavery, though they'd long since healed over. A lump gathered in her throat.

"I… don't even know where I am, miss." The man said. "Where am I? Who are you?"

"This is Halamshiral, or at least we're nearby it. My name is Anthea Sarethari, scion of the House. We're very prominent." Anthea explained. "Who are you?"

The man hesitated. "I'm Waldo. Of…" He lowered his eyes in shame, "of no one."

Anthea was about to ask him if he had any family when she saw two men stumble through the bushes. Waldo scurried away, and she caught his foot. While he scrambled fearfully to his feet, she grabbed the chain sickle from her basket and began to spin it. "If you slavers want him, you'll have to go through me!" Anthea shouted.

The two men looked at one another and shared a grunt then one nodded. The taller one stepped forward, and a simple flick of Anthea's wrist sent her weapon straight at his head. He reached out to catch the chain but missed and she struck him with the weight, the pick hitting his eye. She pulled back on it, pulling him forward and sending him to the ground holding his head and screaming. The man's partner glared at her and smiled when she dropped the handle of her weapon.

He charged her. Anthea stepped to the side at the last second, grabbed the hilt of his sword and twirled in a full circle to draw it from its sheath. He stopped running and whirled around, his hand reaching down to the empty scabbard. Surprised, he looked to find that his opponent in a threatening position, daring to use his own sword against him. Angry, the slaver began to summon a complex spell and, seeing this, Anthea charged forward, stabbing him through his leather armor.

She kicked him and flipped her hair back. Waldo stood, in awe of her. Anthea smiled at him, and offered him her hand. "If you have nowhere else to go, I will take you home with me."

Waldo started to reach out, but he hesitated. "Will your family mind?"

"It'll be easier to beg for forgiveness than ask permission." She answered, and he smiled back at her. Carefully, Waldo took Anthea's hand.

As they walked back towards the city, he sheepishly asked, "Why did you stand up for me?"

She thought about it for a moment, and smiled as she looked up at him. "I could not stand idle while those men dragged you back to Creator-knows-what." With a wink, she added, "Besides, slavery is not the life for a handsome man like yourself." He laughed nervously, as if he didn't know how to respond.

14th of Cassus, 5:08 Guardian

It had been twenty-two years since Anthea had met Waldo of No One, who later became Waldo Sarethari, her husband. Sixteen years had passed since Anthea had given birth to the young woman who stood before her now. She remembered how reluctant she'd been when the elves in black arrived, even though she knew that becoming a changeling was the only way. She remembered how heartbroken she'd been when they returned with the human baby, and she thought now about the couple she'd given the human to. They were blacksmiths, and they'd never been able to conceive. At least something good had come of that night.

But her child was home. And she knew that this was her child; she wore that same look of confusion her father had worn before he'd passed. She had her father's eyes and his nose, but the way her face was shaped, the way her lips were shaped, the color of her hair—this was her daughter. "I… oh, by the Creation Father! My prayers have been answered!"

1st of Verimensis, 4:87 East

Anthea knocked on the door to Waldo's laboratory. He was working on an elven centurion, like a golem but larger and made of mithril and oricalcum. He went back and forth between the construct and his designs, cursing. "I can't get it to work." Waldo complained when he caught sight of Anthea. "Something must be wrong with my plans. I don't know what it is, though."

"Happy New Year!" She said, offering him a special brew of ale with juniper berries in it. He shook his head and took the ale. "You're working far too hard. Come on, we could go for a walk around the city. Won't that be fun?"

"Anthea, I'm busy." Waldo said, pouring over his volumes. It had taken a long time, but Anthea had finally taught him to read, and he couldn't get enough. "If my predictions are correct, we are but a short time away from the reawakening of Xana Kenval, and she will build her constructs. We must find a way to protect ourselves."

Anthea sighed. "The Shaman claims that Xana will not return until the Guardians rise. There's no proof to say that it will be in our lifespan." She said. Waldo opened his mouth to argue, and Anthea stopped him with a kiss. He pulled her closer, and they shared the moment. When they broke, the amorous look on his face faded quickly into shame, and he hid his face behind his long brown hair. Anthea looked at him in confusion, and she touched his shoulder. "Waldo? What's wrong, ma sa'lath?"

"You are a noblewoman…" He said with his voice coated in embarrassment.

Anthea seemed confused. "I don't understand your point."

"You're also a beautiful woman, Sarethari. Has no one else caught your eye?" He asked as he shifted his head just enough to see her.

She laughed. "Do you see anyone else here?"

"I'm an escaped slave, living off the generosity of your family. Neither of those things bother you?"

"I am not without faults." She said. He looked away. "Waldo…" She whispered. He refused to look at her, and playfully she slid under the space created where he gripped the table. Anthea laughed at his flustered expression, and quickly she stole another kiss.

He laughed, his voice low. "I fooled you, did I?" He asked, and while she recoiled in surprise, he stole a kiss from her. "Happy New Year."

14th of Cassus, 5:08 Guardian

"I'm sorry, I don't know who you are." Anthea's daughter said, obviously confused. She coughed a little, and her cheeks were pale, but otherwise she seemed fine. When Anthea found herself unable to speak, she offered, "My name is Aelita Durgenbora, and this is Jeremie Belpois. Are… you Matron Mother Anthea Sarethari?"

"Oh, da'len." Anthea said quietly. She took the girl's hands and whispered, "I'm your mother."

The girl's eyes widened, and she recoiled. The human next to her grabbed her shoulders so that she could steady herself. Anthea waited with bated breath for elation to enter her daughter's eyes but as time went on there was nothing. No recognition, no glee, not even confusion. But when emotion did come, it broke her heart, for it was anger. "My mother?" She repeated, anger in her voice. "You abandoned me! Why would you do that?"

Anthea opened her mouth to explain. She closed it again. "Aelita…"

Aelita's eyes filled with hot, angry tears. "Why did you give me up?"

"That's kind of a long story."

8th of Solis, 4:90 East

Waldo and Anthea had been married for just over a year. Anthea was now the leader of the Sarethari family, making her one of the most important people in Halamshiral. Waldo, on the other hand, was obsessed with his centurion. He'd been working on it for years, and yet it refused to move. A theory began to circle in his mind when he came across a book that mentioned a spirit named Mehormanda. She was one of the few spirits the elves considered wholly evil, and long ago, after the destruction of Ravenbow, they trapped her in an Eluvian. She was associated with hunger and desire, and when Yolanda entered Uthenera, she asked that she be charged with making sure no one unworthy removed it. Waldo believed that he could use Mehormanda—he, like Anthea, was Blind, and this probably made him overconfident.

Anthea and Waldo now stood in Yolanda's tomb. Waldo examined the Eluvian, and Anthea helped Yolanda out of her tomb. She seemed confused, but she seemed to gather herself as her youth returned. She saw Waldo looking at the Eluvian and panicked. "Nae! Nae! Ga rahn m'eluvian! Ga rahn!"

Waldo seemed surprised, and Anthea tried to calm her down. "Atisha, Asha'bellanar. Please be still."

Yolanda pointed at Anthea's husband. "He knows not what he does!" She accused.

Waldo folded his arms. "I've studied her ways for years! I know what to do!"

Anthea touched Yolanda's shoulder. "We need the Mehormanda's Eluvian, Asha'bellanar. There is great darkness on the horizon, and she holds the secret to getting our centurion to work."

Yolanda narrowed her eyes. "I cannot stop you, da'len. But be warned; Mehormanda, if released, will not stop until she finds her brother Darciflamius. If they were to find each other, any darkness you foresee in the future shall pale in comparison. Her brother destroyed Ravenbow, and with them both free, they will seek revenge on us."

Waldo rolled his eyes. "You're an old hag who talks too much, aren't you?"

"And you are a man with more intelligence than wisdom to use it." Yolanda spat.

17th of Molioris, 4:91 East

The door opened, and Waldo turned as three-year-old Nim helped her aunt carry her uncle's lunch to him. Anthea was now heavy with a child, and Waldo walked down from his position next to the Eluvian to greet his niece, his wife and his unborn child. Waldo spoke in hushed tones to the baby, and Anthea rolled her eyes with a smirk. As if to distract him, she asked, "Do you think the snow outside is ever going to melt?"

Waldo laughed. "I personally think the Eahariel family is just keeping the snow around for their own amusement." He took a bite out of the meat and then walked closer to the mirror. Anthea asked Nim to leave, and she walked closer to her husband. "I'm so close to being able to summon Mehormanda."

"I've been thinking, ma sa'lath, maybe we shouldn't summon her." Anthea said. "At least, not right now. After all, our first child is to be born soon. The Shaman says that it can't be more than a few days before I go into labor."

Waldo turned and took his wife's hands. "And I will be right by your side when you do." He twisted her hair around his fingers. "But for right now, I am too far along in my work to stop." Anthea sighed, but she understood. She watched as Waldo made minor adjustments to the Eluvian, and she jumped when she saw something move inside of it. Waldo did the opposite—he moved closer. "Did you see that? Something moved inside of the mirror."

"Get away from it, Waldo." Anthea said firmly, taking a few steps back.

"Hold on a second, I just want to see what it is." He denied. Anthea moved closer to her husband, as if her presence would shelter him. Waldo touched the glass, and a red ripple spread out from his touch. He slid his fingers, and it looked like he was touching water. "I can see… a city… underground?" He said, looking at Anthea. She looked nervously back at him before they both returned their attention to the Eluvian. A figure shot across the glass, and a pair of red eyes focused on her husband. "Help! It saw me! I can't look away!"

The figure charged the glass, and red light filled the room. Anthea was knocked back into the wall, but even as the light faded, she could not see him or Mehormanda's Eluvian, only the place where they had stood. She slowly began to lose consciousness.

18th of Molioris

Anthea had awoken around midnight, and she was surrounded by her family and the Shaman. Not long later, she went into labor, though even the Shaman had said this was early—not very early but concerning nevertheless—and now, as night began to fall again and Anthea held her daughter in her quaking hands, she knew something was wrong.

The baby would not cry, nor would she open her eyes. She merely lay still, occasionally shivering as if she were cold. The Shaman told Anthea that Mehormanda had not escaped her Eluvian, but she had left a powerful curse, and it appeared to be affecting everyone except the newly widowed mother. Anthea had not been affected because she'd been pregnant—her child had absorbed the blow for her. However, the curse was like a miasma; the longer the baby was exposed to it, the more likely she would perish.

Anthea now sang to her daughter, for she could do nothing else for her.

"Melava inan enansal

Ir su aravel tu elvaral

U na emma abelas

In elgar sa vir mana

In tu setheneran

Din emma na.

Lath sulevin

Lath aravel ena arla vent u vir mahvir

Melana'nehn

Enasal ir sa lethallin."

The elves dressed in black came, and Anthea cried as she handed them the only thing that could have brought her peace.

14th of Cassus, 5:08 Guardian

Jeremie listened with Aelita as her mother explained and he drew closer to the Outcast until they were standing shoulder to shoulder over the course of the story. It seemed to offer no comfort to Aelita who hung her head. Anthea stepped closer and reached out in an effort to hold her. She pulled herself away from her mother, and Jeremie stepped between them, looking at the elvhen noble apologetically. The Outcast took a single look more at her mother, and then left. Jeremie moved to follow her, but he stopped. "I'll speak to her. She'll listen to me." He reassured her. Anthea could only hope that he was right.

Jeremie chased after Aelita, finding her sitting on one of the mushroom chairs. He sat down across from her and for a long moment neither said anything. "How are you feeling?" He asked gently, grabbing one of her hands. He rubbed it with his thumb, and her eyes followed his arm until she met his.

"Why? Why did this happen?" She asked, blinking tears away from her eyes.

"I…" He began. But he could see the pain in her eyes—as much as Aelita loved her culture and wanted to be with the People, she had never wanted to meet her birth parents. He remembered the people who had raised her, and he understood. He understood not wanting to meet the people who abandoned their child to a life not unlike slavery. He started again "I don't know why it happened, Aelita. But I know that your mother did what she thought was best; and I know that she wants to get to know you."

Aelita furrowed her brows. "I don't want to get to know her! She sent me to live with those… those horrible people!" She gripped his hand harder. "Edna would still be alive if I hadn't been switched! So would the rest of the clan, and Murray!"

"And you wouldn't know them," Jeremie argued, "and we never would have met either."

Aelita sighed. "I don't know if that was a good thing. Death and evil seem to follow me wherever I go." She started coughing, more violently than before, and Jeremie looked at her in concern. "I'm fine. Really."

There was silence for a moment. "You know, Aelita…" Jeremie said, his face serious, "…if I had the chance, I would do anything to see my mother again."

Aelita looked up, shocked. Suddenly she felt terrible; she'd denied her own mother while forgetting that Jeremie would never have the option to see his mother alive again. She hung her head in shame, and then she looked back up. Aelita stood, and she smiled weakly. "I suppose it wouldn't kill me to speak to her, would it?"

Jeremie smiled back. "No, I suppose it wouldn't."

A/N: The song Anthea sings roughly translates as follows: "Time was once a blessing but long journeys are made longer when alone within. Take spirit from the long ago but do not dwell in lands no longer yours. Be certain in need, and the path will emerge to a home tomorrow and time will again be the joy it once was."