James Islington - The Shadow Of What Was Lost

The sound of the door opening made him flinch. He spun to see his father’s familiar blue-cloaked frame in the doorway, with his mother and Deldri peering in behind. They all stared for a moment, silent, as if surprised to see each other was really there.

Then there was a blur of motion and he was being swept up in a fierce hug from his father, squeezing out a laugh as the pressure on his ribs made it hard to breathe. Elocien had always been so reserved; this was an unexpected display of emotion, though not unwelcome. They were soon joined by two more bodies as Geladra and Deldri joined in the hug, his mother emitting a couple of sobs as she held him in her arms.

Suddenly he couldn’t stop from smiling. As much as he had dreaded returning here, he had missed his family - even his father, with whom he had never truly gotten along.

“It’s good to see you,” he said, grinning, as they all finally separated.

Geladra gave him an affectionate smile, dabbing at her eyes. “We’ve missed you.” She stepped back, examining him. “Calandra has been good to you, Torin. You look strong and healthy.”

Wirr nodded, still smiling, though the comment sent a pang of guilt through him. His mother and Deldri hadn’t been told where he’d been - didn’t know, even now.

“The last few years were more than worthwhile,” he said honestly. “You got my letters?”

“We did,” said Deldri, her tone reproachful. “You could have described some of your battles in them, though.” Though neither his father or mother looked much different – a little more tired around the eyes, perhaps, and his mother with slightly more grey in her hair – the changes in Deldri were dramatic. Gone was the chubby nine year old, and in her place was a slim, confident-looking girl that was tall enough now to look him in the eye without craning her neck.

Wirr smiled. “There wasn’t much to tell, really. Sometimes the barbarians attacked our fortress, but they were never organised enough to pose a real threat.”

Deldri nodded. “I heard you came back with Aelric Shainwiere,” she said suddenly.

Wirr blinked in surprise. “I… yes, we met on the road back.”

“What’s he like?” Deldri leaned forward, her expression eager.

Geladra sighed. “You can harass your brother for gossip another time,” she said in a stern tone, rolling her eyes. “We have much to catch up on.” She sat down, and everyone followed suit.

They talked for an hour or so, soon lapsing into the comfortable style of conversation that Wirr knew only came with being related. He kept talk of Calandra to a minimum, instead focusing on what had been happening in the others’ lives. His mother and sister did most of the talking; Deldri especially chattered on for quite some time, much to Wirr’s astonishment. When he had left, she had been so quiet that he would often forget she was even there.

Finally Geladra glanced at Elocien, who gave her a slight nod in return. “We should go,” she said, tugging on Deldri’s arm. “Your father and Torin have other things to speak of.”

Deldri pouted but acquiesced, rising and giving Wirr an abrupt, affectionate hug before leaving. Wirr grinned as he watched them go.

“Deldri is growing up,” he said.

The duke nodded absently. “Too fast,” he sighed. “I’ve already had Houses asking whether their sons might be a suitable match.”

“Already?” Wirr shook his head. “They really are vultures.”

Elocien stared at him for a moment, then chuckled. “I see your time away has done nothing to dampen your dislike of them,” he said with amusement. His smile faded, expression turning serious. “I’m so relieved you are safe, Torin. When the news came about the school….”

Wirr grimaced. "I suppose I have some explaining to do."

He spent the next hour relating his last couple of months to his father. He told Elocien most of the story, including Davian’s true role; as much as it hurt, there seemed little point in keeping his friend’s ability a secret any more. In the end he omitted only Taeris' real name, and the fact that Taeris and Caeden had accompanied them back.

Elocien was surprisingly understanding throughout the tale, so much so that for a moment Wirr considered telling him the truth about Taeris and Caeden as well… but he dismissed the idea as soon as he’d had it. Those two needed every opportunity to convince the Tol to restore Caeden’s memories, without Administration’s interference. And he remembered his father’s opinion of Taeris, all too clearly. A monster , was what he’d called him three years ago. The very worst of the Gifted.

No. He couldn’t say anything. The risk was too great.

When Wirr had finished, Elocien let out a long breath.

"You’ve been through so much," he said, shaking his head in wonder. "I want to be angry at you for going to Desriel, but… it seems that running away ended up saving your life. For that, I am truly grateful.” He leaned back. “I should tell you, too – we found out about the Elder who tricked your friend into leaving. Tol Athian have him safely locked away in their dungeon, but he refuses to say anything.”

Wirr felt his eyebrows raise; with all that had happened, he’d almost forgotten how this had all started. “That is good news,” he said, nodding. He determined to pay Ilseth Tenvar a visit at some point.

Elocien leaned forward. “So. Your letters seemed to indicate you were happy enough, but tell me. How did you find the last few years?”

Wirr thought for a moment. “They were the happiest of my life,” he said sincerely. The sentiment was laced with sadness and regret, though. Any thoughts of his life at the school always would be, now.

Elocien smiled. “I’m glad. I always wondered whether it was the right choice, sending you there.” He bit his lip. “Given what has been happening here, I suspect it was the best choice I’ve made in a long time.”

"You’re talking about uncle?"

Elocien nodded. "He’s… ill, Torin. I think he -"

A knock at the door cut him off; after a few seconds the door opened and a young woman’s face appeared. A Shadow, Wirr realised absently, not really paying attention.

The girl’s eyes were on his father. "Duke Andras," she began in a formal tone, "I have some news I think…."

She trailed off.

Wirr started as he realised the girl was staring at him, mouth agape. He flushed, shuffling uncomfortably… and then frowned. There was something familiar about her. He looked up, studying her black-scarred features properly for the first time.

"Asha?" he whispered in disbelief.

Suddenly he was being wrapped in a fierce embrace.

"Wirr!" Asha was hugging him so tightly it was difficult to breathe. "It’s really you?"

Wirr laughed, though it was a mostly stunned sound. "It’s really me, Ash." Remembering where he was, he dazedly disentangled himself and glanced over at his father, who was looking on in amusement.

"Asha is from Caladel," he explained to Elocien. "She can be trusted, though - I’ll swear to it. It’s not a problem that she knows where I’ve been, these past few years." He turned back to Asha. "Asha, this is going to come as a shock, but I need to tell you something."

There was silence for a moment as Elocien and Asha exchanged amused glances.

"I know, Wirr. Or is it Torin, now?" said Asha, green eyes sparkling.

Wirr gaped at her in silence for a few seconds.

"How?" he asked.

"Your father told me."

Wirr glanced at Elocien, who nodded his confirmation; Wirr rubbed his forehead, trying to come to grips with the information. "But… why?"

"Because I trust her," said the duke simply.

Wirr shook his head in disbelief. "I… but you…." He trailed off, dumbstruck.