Roderick’s words rang heavy on his heart. He felt both their eyes on him, as he knew he had to accept. They were not just testing him; they were also helping him. Keeping him active, present, and part of the quest. While he couldn’t shake the phantom of worry that there were more Goblins or other threats lurking in the sad-looking structure before him, he needed to show them that despite his experience before, they could still count on him.
He didn’t answer verbally because he didn’t want his voice to come out broken. He simply rose and sneaked soundlessly to the doorway. While there were no signs of footprints or other indications of any presence, Elec continued to approach the door at an oblique angle. When he reached the door frame, he saw people had long since removed the fallen roof, though the walls remained mostly standing. There was suitable space for them on the flat stone floor, but it would take a while for it to dry. A fireplace and a toppled chimney lay across from the doorway and should provide decent enough heat. Elec rose and stepped gingerly into the space. There was a weather-beaten table in one corner, but no other furniture resided within. The refuse under the table looked like it would make good kindling. As Elec shifted the table, a series of squeals rang out. A large family of mice leapt from the debris and made a mad dash to the edges of the fallen cottage. While the surprise gave him a bit of a start, he herded the rodents out of the open doorway.
“Sorry, little ones,” He said, with a heavy sigh, “We are camping here tonight. You all can have it back in the morning.”
Once he was certain there were no other surprises within the structure, he returned to the doorway and waved for the swordsman and the bard to make their way over.
Seraphine made her way in first, dropping her pack on the table and leaning against it. Roderick called him from just outside. Elec stepped to the doorway, and the warrior held his arms outstretched.
“Would you mind?” He asked.
Elec nodded, grabbing the hem of his cloak, calling the magic within, and whipped it. Like before, all the water and a little bit of grime flew off in a wave, splashing into the brush behind him.
“How long…” Elec began, a tight smile touching his face.
“The moment you came to the line,” Roderick replied, looking his clothes over. “That is quite handy, though. Are you ready to search for firewood? We’ll also need something to cover the doorway.”
Elec canted his head.
“Are you worried we’ll be attacked?”
“You should always be wary of an attack. We cover the door to better cover the light of the hearth. That way we’ll be less likely to attract such attention.”
Elec raised his chin and took in the information, his mind exhausted from the trials of the day. I’ve definitely got a lot to learn, he thought to himself. Elec dropped his pack inside the cottage and searched for wood. Roderick hunted around for wood as well. Elec searched for several minutes before he gathered wood regardless of whether it was dry. He brought an armful of sticks and branches. Using the same magic as before, he took the wood by the handful and shook the water from each, using magic to draw it out, before stacking them inside the doorway. Seraphine gathered the nest from under the table and a bunch of smaller sticks and twigs. She brought them over to the outer stonework of the hearth. Elec watched as she whittled slivers and shavings from the larger pieces with her dagger and built a structure around them. Father had taught him a similar process before, and the homesickness hit harder this time. She did this several times with larger pieces until the firebox contained an extensive structure within. She dug inside her pocket and fished out a ball of lint. Taking this, she set it just inside the structure and then pulled a flint and steel striker.
Seraphine struck the flint, and a good shower of sparks fell onto the tinder. Elec continued to shake the water from the last of the firewood before coming over. With steady hands, she sparked the tinder. Elec observed her, her hands and eyes steady. Her sparks landed on the lint and surrounding kindling, but the wood refused to light.
“I think the wood may still be just a bit too wet,” Elec offered. “May I take a crack?”
Frustrated, the Half-elf moved away from the lintel, motioning for him to proceed. Elec, using a tiny bit of magic, tried sparking the tinder himself, but it refused to light. Seraphine seemed to relate, her head nodding as even with magic, Elec was still having to put in more effort. She pointed a finger sideways and rolled it to indicate he could hurry a little. Elec pointed his hand towards the recess and unleashed a tiny tongue of flame. He held it until the blaze was alight. A large plume of white smoke issued from the shortened chimney, a notable amount creeping back into the structure.
“Well done. We’ll have to move the rest over so that it dries.” Seraphine said, trying to wave the smoke away.
“That trick is handy, but next time I want to see you build the fire properly, Elec,” Roderick said. “Without magic. Even if the wood is wet.”
Seraphine smiled and nodded at him as if to say, ‘See, I told you he doesn’t hate you.’ Elec smiled in return. The warrior shifted a large cutting of bark against the frame of the door. Blocking most of the forest from view.
*
“Any suggestions for a watch?” Seraphine asked, as she always did first thing at camp.
“I can provide watch all night,” Elec said.
Roderick regarded him with a stony stare. The Rava’kin did not appear to be boasting as he pulled out his sleeping sack and journal.
“Don’t you need to sleep?” The old sword asked, crossing his arms.
“I do, but only once every few days. I can get by with Sena’ela.” He responded, taking a seat near the hearth.
“This I have to see to believe. You can’t possibly have learned to achieve Elf-sleep. It takes a decade to even begin to learn,” Seraphine said, without malice. “Truly?”
“As I said before, my parents are Elves.” He said, both Seraphine and Roderick looking at him disbelievingly.
“So he doesn’t need to sleep?” Roderick asked, looking at Seraphine.
Seraphine chuckled as she unrolled her sleeping roll just on the other side of the fireplace. She took a seat and adjusted the tuning of her lute.
“Oh, Elves sleep, just not the way the rest of us do. My father rarely ever ‘slept’ once I was born. Made sneaking out almost impossible. They enter a sort of trance where they can sleep with their eyes open and do non-strenuous things like walking, talking, cleaning, or reading.”
“I have worked in the presence of Elves and had simply assumed they never slept. Seems to make more sense that they merely find rest differently,” Roderick said, Seraphine playing a soft tune.
“Well, I still have several years before my parents can assign me chores at bedtime, but I can maintain watch, read, and hold a conversation,” Elec said.
“Prove it,” Roderick said.
Elec stopped writing and looked up at both of them. He began to relax and clear his mind. While he was worried about trying regular sleep with the Goblin’s corpse still fresh in his thoughts, the restful state seemed to come along easily enough. His breathing slowed, his blinking decreased, then stopped altogether, and his eyes dilated. Seraphine sat back and shook her head.
“How long did that take to learn?” Roderick asked, watching him.
“Thirty years up to this point. And like I said, I have a long way to go to master it.”
“So you said before, your parents are Elves, but yet you are all orange and fuzzy. Which one of your parents is Mirithar?” Seraphine asked.
Elec looked to both the bard and the warrior, and took a couple of breaths as if to prepare himself.
“Honestly,” he said. “I don’t know.”
*
Seraphine watched as Elec took on the look she had seen many evenings when her father had ‘settled in for the night.’ While he read little, her Elven father set about working on tools, fixing lashings, updating the crop ledgers, or whittling. He was terrible at whittling, but it didn’t stop him from trying. These thoughts were now set aside for the mystery behind the myth currently sleeping with his eyes open.
“My parents, along with their kinship, spent years fighting evil and doing the regular sort of hero work for their time. While they were good people, they were not the ‘best versions’ of themselves, as my father put it. They were insufferably arrogant and made just as many enemies as they defeated. My uncle, Kaiyalth, suggested the group spend a long holiday on the island where he was born and raised. So they set sail and landed on what they later named Hinterson’s Vale after one of their friends who died on a previous adventure. My parents’ kinship fell in love with the peace they found over that winter season and made the island their home. To aid in their retirement, my parents hid the Mirithar aspect of one of their lives and changed the appearance of the other to become different people altogether for two hundred years. When no armies or assassins came looking, they decided to have me.”
“They hid that from you? How? Why?” Roderick said, watching the firelight glint in Elec’s unblinking eyes.
“Physical, mental, and magical means. They spent years training to be mirrors of each other in skill, strength, and abilities. Both can hurl me around like a sack of potatoes and are expert thieves. Both are masters of sorcery and illusion. Their thought-reading abilities are identical, and they can mentally shield themselves from my intrusions just as well.
“Wait, you can read minds?” Seraphine asked, her eyes widening.
“When I remember to do so. I prefer not to around friends and family members. It’s vulgar and impersonal. As for why, I have a few ideas, but mostly, they wanted me to grow up more humble than they had turned out to be. In many instances, better than they were.”
“Were there other Mirithar there?”
“No, but my parents taught me a great deal about our kind’s past. It was difficult growing up unique in such a small community. I endured a lot of teasing when I was little…and with my parents practically royalty, this helped very little in the beginning. Mother explained it was how we proved to Ilen that our kind, being a race born after creation, was worthy of redemption. Worthy of being part of the song. To be patient and endure.”
“That sounds…harsh. And they lived as different people for two hundred years to prepare their home for you? Do you think that they may have intended for you to be born Half-elven.”
Elec’s eyes went wide at the suggestion, his head slowly turning away in light of this additional aspect of his parent he had not considered. They hid so much from me, he thought. They spent so much time preparing. Were they hoping to never have to tell me at all? I would’ve been no different than any other second-generation Elf...
“But you can tell when someone is lying,” Roderick said, Seraphine aggravated at the warrior’s focus.
Elec sighed and turned his head back to them.
“And much more. I can discern facts and truths from people simply by getting them to think of such things. To focus on ideas or the tug of a secret within their minds to provide the information, regardless of whether they open their mouths to say so or not. I can also discern truthfulness even without the ability by watching body language, eye movements, and word choice. As you have gathered, once people get past my tiger-like appearance, I can usually establish a decent rapport.”
Seraphine found his honesty and openness refreshing. While the thought of knowing what she was thinking seemed a little off-putting, her own thoughts with the tiger had been open and honest as well. It was a stark contrast to Roderick, who took two years to admit any feelings at all, let alone anything of his past. In many ways, it was reassuring to know that her words had rung true on multiple levels now. It also meant that his truthfulness regarding Roderick warming up to him had been honest. If he’d known their thoughts, he’d have known that Roderick was merely playing it safe, but still regarded Elec as a solid member of their group and not shown the genuine concern of someone getting things wrong. On the contrary, she felt Roderick would be unaffected by the knowledge. It simply meant to the tiger that he was not screwing around, nor one to screw around with.
The story of his parents’ mystery was also one he had shared many times with friends or potential lovers. The glint in his eyes. His hand gestures. He loved the fact that his parents never revealed which one was Mirithar, as he found the story endearing and enigmatic, as well as the fact that he had never discovered the truth. This was something he cherished and loved to share with people like Roderick, and more likely with herself.
Elec began writing once more, but stopped to shake out his hand or roll his wrist. While he had written earlier, the quiver in his hands had gotten worse now. Seraphine watched as he let the journal and writing stick fall from his hands, the Mirithar becoming frustrated. He must be writing about the battle now, she thought, remembering her own trembling fingers struggling to play proper notes after her first battle.
“Elec, come over here,” Roderick said.
Elec blinked, coming fully awake as he looked up to Roderick, who had set his sleeping roll up in the corner away from the hearth. The tiger stood, stretched, and walked over to the warrior. He’s about to do his water trick, she thought to herself. Again, she thought of Emerson as she watched the warrior continue his instruction.
“Now we don’t have a creek or pond to do this properly, so you’re going to have to close your eyes and imagine that you are standing waist-deep in water,” Roderick said. “Make your breathing come in for three seconds and out for three seconds. Take your hands and rest them just on top of the water. You’re not putting your hands in, but just barely touching the surface.”
The Mirithar gave him a skeptical look of his own for the moment.
“Yes, I have an imagination, and liked books a fair bit, too,” Roderick said, seeming to read the Mirithar’s mind. “Now focus. Feel the way the water seems to stick to your palms as they naturally rise and fall with your breathing. Now, very slowly and rhythmically press against the top of the water, not letting your hands become submerged. You are looking to feel the resistance of the water. Move your hands in a slight circular motion, the circles becoming smaller and smaller until you can’t make them any smaller.”
Seraphine played a light tune as she watched the exercise she had done every night for the first year after Larkinth. She watched as the clawed hands made small circles until they were finally still, save for a slight twitch in his fingertips.
“Now open your eyes and look at your hands,” Roderick said.
*
Elec breathed slowly and looked down at his hands. There was a slight tremor in the tips of his fingers, but otherwise the trembling had subsided. Roderick nodded and motioned back to the hearth.
“When we stop, I want you to do that each time.” The warrior said. “Seraphine, you can go ahead and turn in. I’ll wake you around midnight.”
Elec watched as Seraphine tucked herself into the roll and rested her hand on the scabbard of her rapier as it lay next to her. The night was still early, but he didn’t argue. Elec settled back into his spot and scooped up his journal and stick. He found that Elf-sleep came back quickly and continued writing, making a detailed account of the encounter with the Goblins. He then pulled the cube out of his pack and made sketches and notes regarding the runes and glyphs on it.
“Are you enjoying this?” Roderick asked.
The question startled him. The warrior regarded him with an unfathomable look.
“Not all of it. I am thankful for the opportunity to make the friends I have with the Sprinter’s crew and you two. It amazes me that I am entangled with something so important. I thought…without…” Elec responded, wrapping the cube back in its cloth and putting it away. “I…well…the sea serpents…I had no problem fighting them…I’ve hunted deer and boar as well. But the smugglers…back in the Vale.”
He couldn’t quite put it further into words without becoming upset again. Instead, he looked over at the crackling fire, his hand moving towards his side.
“It’s different, unnatural…to take the life of another person,” Roderick said, looking out through a small gap in the door covering. “With beasts, it’s for food, survival, or sport if you are a rich noble with nothing better to do. When you kill a person, you take away a lifetime of potential. It may be for good or evil, but it’s still potential, nonetheless. While compassion isn’t inherently a weakness, and I won’t discourage it in battle, be aware that ill-timed mercy can be fatal. What I will not stand for is the refusal to fight. I may be calm and reserved in battle, but I do not consider things such as life and death as trivial. When there is a fight, you fight. I say strike, you know, and trust that I have thought it through before I demand you kill someone. Otherwise, you will need to make your own way back to the Mariners Guild and find some other way to be useful.”
Elec regarded this for a while. It pained him that the Goblin refused to surrender, preferring death before being defeated. I’m certain this is not the way Ilen intended for the world to go about, he thought. Then why did he allow such atrocities to happen? Evils, sickness, famine, strife, and murder all go unchecked…except by people like Roderick and Seraphine. And now I am taking up that charge as well. He thought of home, his ranch, the sleepy village on the edge of the known world. Even there, evil was creeping in. The smugglers were using their remote location for meetings and exchanges. Far removed from any patrols or bondsmen ever to come bother them. How long before others come? Pirates? Slavers? Reavers? Would his parents and his uncle’s family have to fight them off eternally, too?
Roderick rose and placed a few more logs on the fire, Elec watching him move. Time must’ve slipped away while he was musing, as the fire had grown quite low. Elec breathed a sigh and watched the warrior blow into the embers to make sure the fire kept going.
“Sorry, I got lost in thought,” Elec said.
“At least you stayed awake. I had worried you were simply sleeping with your eyes open, the way you were staring off into the trees,” Roderick responded, his voice a little weary.
The warrior then stepped over to Seraphine and nudged her foot with his. She sat bolt upright, her hair wild, her eyes blinking, and her sword held in its scabbard in her left hand. She adjusted her armor as she continued to rise.
“You’re up until morning,” Roderick said, moving over to his roll.
“Yes, yes. Fine, fine.” She responded with a stretch and an enormous yawn, then caught Elec’s eye. “What?”
He chuckled and said, “You look marvelous.”
“I bet.” She said, smiling as she stood and walked about.
Roderick had already settled on his roll, lying on his side with his left hand resting on the scabbard of his sword. Seraphine warmed herself by the fire before leaning against the doorframe. She peered out through the small gaps in the makeshift door before turning her attention back to him.
“Night’s been pretty quiet.” She said, “Except you two squawking nonstop.”
Elec nodded, beginning to write some more in his journal. Seraphine looked down at her feet.
“I suppose you didn’t get much choice in taking lives either,” Elec said, “once you decided to follow Roderick to Larkinth.”
Seraphine continued to stare downward for a brief moment. She cleared her throat before she answered.
“No. Not unless I wanted to end up like the troupe I had been traveling with.” She replied, “I guess it would be more expected of you, seeing that your parents were heroes and all.”
“My parents talked of winning battles, but never of the killing involved. I guess it’s easier for a child to understand,” Elec said, setting his journal down. “I had thought I could be a hero…without having to take a life. The scrapes I got into with the smugglers ended in their surrendering or magic-induced sleep. I thought I could do it. To show mercy beyond…I don’t know.”
“Reality usually isn’t that kind. Especially when the one you’re trying not to kill is forcing your hand. Speaking of which, did you really not get hurt at all?”
“No,” Elec said, slowly rolling his upper arm. “He got me pretty hard across my neck and shoulder here.”
“Let me take a look,” Seraphine said.
Elec leaned his head aside as the Half-elf shifted the collar of his jacket and shirt. For a while, she hovered over his neck. He could feel her breath on his neck, shoulder, and jaw. Her hand touched and prodded gently, parting his fur to get a better look. The faint discomfort he felt was barely noticeable next to the sensation of her nearness. He was becoming lost in her scent, the slight wisp of mint and lavender from the bath she had taken the night before. His heart beat faster as her hands moved to the side of his neck and back down. Then her fingers reached the raw core. Elec stiffened, his breath catching in a toothy grimace. She probed around further, finding its reaches.
“Yeah, you have a mean bruise there,” Seraphine said. “Let me see a hand.”
She took his right hand as he offered it and placed his index finger on the spot. She then went over to her pack and produced a small vial of a white, viscous salve.
“Now, when I put this on, it’s going to have a strong smell and heat up considerably. Do not touch it. If this stuff gets in your eyes, you’ll be useless for the next day. Trust me, I know.” She said.
Using a flat piece of wood from the remaining kindling, she applied the medicine to his fur in a liberal amount, trying to get as much of it down to his actual skin as possible. She tossed the stick into the fire, stopped the vial, and replaced his shirt and jacket. More firmly this time, she placed her hand on his neck and shoulder, massaging the ointment into the bruised area.
“You should’ve said something sooner. Granted, you don’t have any broken bones, I could’ve played a song to fix you right up. Now you’ll have to wait until morning.”
“I wasn’t aware that I had gotten hurt. It sort of crept up on me and slowly increased.”
Seraphine remained behind him, rubbing his neck and shoulder while he spoke. Already, the pungent medicine was heating the muscles of his neck and shoulder. Save for the horrible smell, the sensation felt quite enjoyable.
“You weren’t afraid of the Goblins, were you?”
“I was afraid of what I could do to him. Of what would happen if I set him on fire or hit him with a shard of lightning. Or tear into him with my claws. It was as if I could already hear his screams. I’d spent fifteen years of fistfights and wrestling to hurt but never maim. I kept seeing my reaction if someone had done it to me.”
The silence stretched long, Elec’s focus lost on the Half-elf’s hands still massaging the medicine into his shoulder. She nodded knowingly.
“Do unto others…” She said, “It’s a hard thing to learn when you are young, and a harder thing to unlearn as an adult. For the most part, treating people with kindness and respect goes a very long way, but there is a hard line that, once it’s crossed, the gloves come off. And no, I didn’t have a choice even before I started traveling with Roderick. I lost that choice when I left home.”
She continued to work his muscles, the heat increasing, loosening the knot that had been growing in the muscles in his neck.
“Her name was Julianae, and she was the most talented singer the world had ever known. Or she would’ve been, were she not killed before reaching Eldmar.” Seraphine said, her voice cracking. “She had command of the groove like none other I had ever known. Not even my father’s talent could compare to hers, which was a hard thing for him to admit of a Human. She could do this trick where she could shatter wineglasses with her voice. Lots of singers can do it with the right volume and modulation. Julianae could do it humming. Softly.”
Seraphine stared into the fire, tears welling in her eyes.
“Then she was gone. Her legacy snuffed out like a candle. The bandits slaughtered all the men in the troupe and then took turns…on her. I could do nothing but watch, else they’d have had me as well. Over and over. She simply lay there and cried. I cried with her from my hiding spot, knowing it would’ve been myself had I not been…I hoped they would tire of her and leave her be in the road so that I could collect her up. She might never have sung again, but at least she would’ve been alive. They finally did tire of raping her…then they smashed her head in with a hammer. I didn’t know it at the time, but the choice for me to take a life was made right then.”
Elec remembered her story from the Mariner’s Guild, though she did not go into such detail.
“Thankfully, your troupe was avenged by Roderick and his company,” Elec said, wanting to hold her.
“They did. He did.” She said, but did not elaborate further.
The bard continued to massage Elec’s neck, but without the warmth or presence from before.
“So, what are your plans after we restore the seal?” Elec asked, trying to keep the conversation going.
“No telling. Roderick will barely rest before looking for another lead on bandits to be dealing with or someone needing rescue. What about you?”
“Easy. Head back home and tell my story to the folks. This has already gone well beyond talking to scholars or poring through libraries. Maybe after the harvest festival, my family and I can come back to the mainland. See some more cities. I’m certain they’d love to meet both of you.” Elec said, turning his head to her, “Maybe you two could visit our island as well. Take a vacation for a few weeks. The town rarely sees proper bards, and there’s probably some more smugglers left for Roderick to chase down.”
“Yeah, maybe…” Seraphine said.
Seraphine’s hands slowed and lifted away. She rose and walked over to her side of the lintel and peered over the top of the half-toppled wall. The heat of the friction from her hands continued to grow in her absence, but Elec still wished her hands upon him. Beyond the crackle in the flame, there had been no sight, sound, or smell of anyone or anything moving about outside the ruined cottage. She stayed there for a while, not moving or saying anything. Elec wanted to continue the conversation, or at least know what was wrong. How could he help? He had thought to use his mental ability, but could not do so without coming fully awake first. Besides, if we are to be friends, then she should be free to tell me when she feels ready, he thought, not dig it out of her without her knowledge.
Elec took a moment to take in the sounds of the night as well. Again, nothing beyond a slight breeze and the sounds of the fire filled the night. He turned his attention back to the fire. Again, under his meditative perception, the fire moved like a giant candle flame, bending this way, widening that way. Seraphine moved a couple more times, peering out over the crumbling structure or through the gaps in the doorway. Time skipped on as it usually did, with each of her movements bringing a little more light into the sky until Roderick stirred.
As the morning began in earnest, each went through their morning routine and made ready to break camp. They stored the remaining firewood in the hearth before donning their packs. The sky looked dark, and rain was highly likely. Roderick consulted his map, Elec’s map, and notes against his compass. After that, they continued in silence. Roderick walked ahead with Seraphine covering the rear. With a sigh, Elec focused on keeping his watch and matching the warrior’s posture.
Chapter 23 – The Druid’s Grove
