Elizabeth Haydon - The Assassin King

“Rhapsody, I beg of you, please do not panic,” Ashe said quickly. His hands moved under the baby’s back, even though the loss of color in his wife’s face was scarcely greater than that in his own. “You remember what my father said about prophecies—that they are not always as they seem to be.” He carefully took his son into his arms as his wife leaned back against the earthen walls of the chamber, and attempted to smile down at the infant, but could not close his ears to the memory of the rest of his father’s statement. The value of seeing the Future is often not worth the price of the misdirection, Llauron had noted. Ashe had found that while the interpretation of prophecies could be misleading, in the end to ignore them was a choice with even more dire consequences. “I am not panicking,” Rhapsody said, her voice steady. though her face was still pale. “But there is no question in my mind that Meridion may well be the child of which this prophecy speaks, though I do not understand why something in the tapestry of the Weaver, from a time where history seems to have been undone, would apply to him. When Jal’asee, the Sea Mages’ ambassador from the Gaematria, was here during Gwydion’s investiture, he spoke to me of the lore that was growing within me, with the mixing of your blood and mine. He used that same nomenclature—saying that he would be a Child of Time.” She inhaled, remembering the mage’s words, spoken with the wisdom of the most ancient of all races. Your child will be blessed, and cursed, with the power of all the elements, Rhapsody. You walked through the fire at the heart of the Earth—do not fear; of course I know this, because you clearly absorbed it. What the rest of the world mistakes for mere beauty, one such as myself, who has seen the primordial elements in their raw form, can recognize them. You and your child were cradled in the arms of the sea during your recent captivity—I know this too, not by seeing it, but because the waves told me of it during my journey here from Gaematria. Your husband is the Kirsdarkenvar, the master of the element, so there is a tie to water in both parents. The earth is in you both as well—you because you have traveled through Her heart, your husband because he is descended of the wyrm Elynsynos, as thus linked to it, as you are both linked to the star Seren. And finally, as the Lirin queen you are a Child of the Sky, a daughter of the air. So your child will have all of the elements nascent within his blood. Do you know what all of those elements add up to? Tell me , she had whispered. Time. He will have the power of Time. I hope you will do me the honor of allowing me, when the child is old enough and the occasion permits, to help teach your child how to use it . “Then, when he was born,” she went on, “he, like all dragons, needed a name to be formed, and so I gave him one that harked back to Merithyn and his own father, but ultimately I wove the phrase Child of Time into his appellation as well.”

Ashe nodded at the memory. His time with his new son had been so brief, but at least Fate had been kind enough to allow him to witness the baby’s birth in the cave of the Lost Sea, the lair of his great-grandmother, Elynsynos, where Rhapsody had taken refuge. Elynsynos, who had long ago forsaken her earthly draconic form for one of ether, had taken the physical shape of a woman, the same form she had assumed to meet Merithyn, his Seren great-grandfather, so that she could assist Krinsel, the Bolg midwife, with the delivery. As he witnessed the miracle unfold, Ashe’s eyes had gone from his wife’s face to that of his great-grandmother, who in all the elegance of her regal beauty wore the plainly excited, childlike expression he had often seen her wear in dragon form. He had continued to watch in a mix of fear and awe until he felt Rhapsody’s hand clutch his. He closed his eyes now, relishing the memory like a treasure in his own hoard. Sam? Yes, Aria? The word was Lirin for my guiding star, and it had fitted her role in his life perfectly. She had reached up falteringly and rested her small hand on his chest. I need the light of the star within you. Our child is coming. He had bent closer to her and rested his hand atop hers. Whatever you need. How can I give it to you ? Open your heart. Welcome your child. All Ashe could do was nod as Rhapsody began to softly sing the elegy to the lost star, Seren, that she had learned from the Seren Sea Mage. As she sang she wept, listening only to the music radiating from the piece of that same star that had been sewn within the realm of the Rowans within his own chest, the pure, elemental song of the lost star, blended with the music of wind and fire, the lore that resided within her, and the earth and water that had come from his blood. Come forth, my child. Come into the world, and live. Ashe felt his throat tighten, remembering how close she had been to death as his son was coming to birth. Elynsynos had conferred one last time with Krinsel, the Bolg midwife Achmed had brought from Ylorc at Rhapsody’s request, then the dragon in Seren form raised her hands in a gesture of supplication and reached into Rhapsody’s belly from above, her hands passing through as if they were made only of mist and starlight. It was, he thought, the most magical thing he had ever witnessed. Elynsynos then drew back her hands and lifted aloft a tiny glowing light, pulling it gently from his wife’s failing body and putting it on her chest, into her hands. Name him, Pretty, so that he can form. Ashe had barely heard the words she had spoken over the thundering of his own three-chambered heartbeat. Rhapsody had reached for him with one hand. When his fingers had entwined with hers, she whispered the Naming intonation. Welcome, Meridion, Child of Time. For a moment, nothing remained in her other hand but the glowing light. Then slowly a shape began to form, a tiny head, smaller hands held aloft, then waved about. A soft coo erupted a moment later into a full-blown wail, and suddenly the cave was filled with the ordinary human music of a crying infant. The most beautiful sound he had ever heard. “I still believe it is very possible that this prophecy is not even about our child,” he said to the assembled group. “There are too many things that do not apply; obviously, and blessedly, Rhapsody did not in fact die, as the mother in the prophecy was proclaimed to do. Furthermore, even though he is unique and unusual in his lore and lineage, Meridion is not an unnatural child.” His face colored for a moment. “And he was certainly not born of an unnatural act; he came into the world, had his beginnings, in the same way every other child does.”

“I’m not so sure mat’s true,” Achmed said. “Sexual congress with a dragon could possibly be viewed by any number of reasonable minds as an unnatural act. It is certainly not something I want to contemplate on a full stomach.” A flash of heat shot through Ashe, and ugly words spilled forth from his mouth before he could stop them. “And what, then, would you consider your own conception, Achmed? I shudder to even imagine what coupling would have produced a being that is half Dhracian, one of the most ancient of all the world’s races, and half Firbolg, one of the most bastard strains of demi-human monsters ever to scar the face of the earth. You’re hardly one to talk about being born of unnatural acts.” Rhapsody regarded him reproachfully as the rest of the council stared at him in silence. The Bolg king said nothing, but the Sergeant-Major glowered at him in a way that added threat to the very air of the tiny hidden room. “Perhaps it is not Meridion’s conception, but rather his actual birth that the prophecy means by brought forth in blood from fire,” Rhapsody said. “Not even you can deny, Sam, the unusual circumstances of his delivery. His birth took almost all the blood in my body, from which I am still weak. And. given what has happened to me over time, it could be assumed that I am the fire from which he was brought forth, and you, as a dragon, are the earth that is his sire. But it seems to me that all of this is irrelevant. If there’s any chance whatsoever that the Child of Time Talquist is seeking could be Meridion—or if Talquist thinks he is—then we must do everything we can to protect him. whether or not he is the child of which the prophecy speaks.”