Leslie Moore - Griffin's Shadow

A cloud of melancholy settled over her, and the day that had started out so bright and full of excitement now seemed much more dim and sad. She contemplated returning to the castle, but quickly changed her mind when she sighted a well-dressed hikui woman at a street stall, purchasing pies.

Jelena’s spirits lifted.

Perhaps not all of my kind live at the bottom of elven society after all!

The woman completed her purchases and moved along up the street. Jelena hurried after, determined not to lose sight of her.

If I could just talk to her…I know she’ll tell me the truth.

The woman soon turned off the main street into a narrow lane. She walked quickly; Jelena followed as close as she dared, not wishing to be too obvious in her pursuit, yet not wanting to lose her unwitting guide in the maze of small streets and alleys. She realized she had no idea how to get back to the main thoroughfare leading to the castle. She would eventually need to ask for directions; for now, though, she was content to let this woman lead her onward to whatever encounter the gods had mandated for them.

The forest began to thin out and soon Jelena found herself in a clearing within the city. Well-kept, modest houses lined the hard-packed, dirt lanes. The people she saw were all of mixed blood.

This must be it! I’ve found Jokimichi! She felt a rush of excitement and quickened her pace in order to catch up with her guide.

“Excuse me please!” she called out.

The woman had paused in a doorway, a key in her hand. She looked up as Jelena approached.

“Yes, may I help you?” the woman said, a little smile on her lips. Her face still had much of its youthful beauty, despite the lines brought by middle age. Her dark brown hair, streaked with silver, hung down her back in a neat braid.

“I…I…” Jelena cursed herself for her awkwardness. Why did she feel this way-shy, yet exhilarated? She wanted to fling her arms around the woman but at the same time, she wanted to flee. She stared helplessly into the kind brown eyes, too tongue-tied to speak.

The woman set her basket down on the ground and took Jelena’s hand. Her palm felt rough and warm. “Are you ill, child? Is there something I can do for you, someone I can fetch?” she asked.

“N…no, no,” Jelena spluttered, finding her voice at last. “I’m not ill, just lost. Well, not lost, really. I wanted to find this place, wanted to find others…”

“Others?” The woman raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, others like me…like you, mistress. I am not from around here, you see.”

“That is abundantly clear. Your accent gives you away. I haven’t heard its like before.”

“I’m from Soldara, mistress. My Siri-dar is not so good yet.”

“Your Siri-dar is quite good,” the woman responded. She leaned over to pluck the basket off the ground. “Well, I suppose you’d better come in, then.” She fitted the key into a shiny brass lock, turned it, and gave the door a gentle shove with her foot. Jelena followed her into a small entry hall and waited while her hostess closed the door and set the basket down on a low table.

“Welcome to my home,” the woman said. “I am Sateyuka.”

Jelena snatched off her hat and sketched a quick bow. “My name is Jelena, mistress,” she replied.

“What a lovely name,” Sateyuka said, “and so different. You are a long way from home, Jelena. How is it that you find yourself in Sendai?”

“It is a long story, mistress.”

Sateyuka smiled wryly and shook her head. “Please, Jelena. Call me Sateyuka. There are no masters or mistresses in this house, only hard working common folk. Come into the sitting room. I’ll make tea and we can talk.”

Sateyuka led Jelena through a sliding door made of thin wood into a cozy little room just off the entry hall. Three low chairs, a table, and some floor cushions made up the room’s simple furnishings. An unlit fireplace anchored the wall opposite the door. Sateyuka crossed the room to throw open the shutters of the single window, letting in some of the late afternoon sunshine and fresh air. A heavy mesh screen shielded the interior of the room from passers-by.

“Make yourself comfortable. I shouldn’t be too long.” Sateyuka smiled and whisked from the room, brown braid swinging.

Jelena settled into one of the chairs to wait.

I have so many questions , she thought. Would Sateyuka be willing to answer them all? Or would she soon tire of her overeager young guest and find some excuse to send Jelena on her way?

I suppose I’ll find out.

Sateyuka returned quickly, bearing a teapot-whimsically shaped like a fat-bodied hen-and two cups on a wooden tray. In addition to the tea, two of the little pies that Jelena had observed her hostess purchasing just a short time ago were laid out on cloth napkins. Sateyuka set the tray down atop the table and poured each of them a cup of tea.

“Careful, it’s hot,” she warned as she passed a cup and a pie to Jelena. She then sank into the chair opposite her guest.

Jelena bit into the pastry with a sigh of delight, savoring the mix of honey-sweetened crushed nuts and berries. She had to stop herself from devouring the confection in a single bite.

“I’d heard rumors there were folk of mixed blood in Soldara,” Sateyuka said. “We here in Sendai have a tightly knit community, and I know of no one who has ever had any contact with hikui from beyond the borders of Alasiri.” She paused to take a sip of her tea, and to appraise her young visitor over the rim of her cup.

“I was born at a place called Amsara,” Jelena said, setting her teacup down on the table. She finished the pie and brushed the last crumbs from her fingers. “The duke’s only sister-my mother-died giving birth to me. My uncle could never really accept me as family because of my elven blood, but he couldn’t turn his back on me, either. He sent me to be raised in the servant’s hall. Luckily I had a foster mother and a cousin who loved me.”

“We hear stories of how hikui are treated in the human lands, and some among us say that we should be thankful we live here in Alasiri.” Sateyuka frowned and Jelena thought she could hear the faintest trace of bitterness in the older woman’s voice.

“It’s true that Soldarans have no places of honor or dignity in their world for mixed-bloods. The priests teach the people that elvenkind are the offspring of demons…and therefore, have no souls. They say that any child born of a mating between an elf and a human is soulless as well.” Now, Jelena’s voice trembled with bitterness. “The people of Amsara take their religion quite seriously.”

“Is that why you fled your home? To escape ill treatment at the hands of humans?”

“Partly so, yes. I also wanted very much to find the man who fathered me. On her deathbed, my birth mother passed on to my foster mother a ring that she said belonged to my father. She also swore that she and my father had truly loved each other.”

“A powerful force, love. It makes us do brave things…and foolhardy ones as well.” Sateyuka’s soft brown eyes grew hazy, as if she wandered in the country of her memories, reliving a moment in her past both painful and sweet. With a sigh, she refocused her attention on her visitor. “So, now I know part of the tale of how you came to be in Alasiri,” she said, smiling. “What brings you to Sendai? Have you reason to believe your father may be here?”

Jelena paused, considered how much of the truth to tell Sateyuka, then decided that the facts of her elven parentage must remain close-kept until the king decided otherwise.

“I came here with the Lord of Kerala. I am married to his younger son.”