Richard Baker - Final Gate

“You were in Malkizid’s domain?” Seiveril asked. His brows rose in surprise. “What in the world were you doing there?”

“I suppose that now we should share our story,” Araevin answered. He took a deep breath, and went on to describe their own travels-the expedition to the Nameless Dungeon, the passage to the Waymeet, the long dark quest in the blackness of Lorosfyr, and finally the perilous journey across the Barrens of Doom and Despair. When he finished, he produced the Gatekeeper’s Crystal, complete with all three shards joined to make a three-pointed star. “The daemonfey know that I have at least one shard of this device now. They must suspect that I might have all three… though Sarya and Malkizid may not know how much the Gatekeeper aided us.”

“Please excuse my ignorance, Araevin,” Theremen Ulath said, “but now that you have recovered this device, what is it for?”

“I believe I can dismiss the mythal wards barring you from Myth Drannor.”

Seiveril drew in his breath. “You can breach the daemonfey spells? How long will it take you?”

“Give me a short time to prepare, and I could attempt it this evening,” Araevin said.

“The sooner, the better,” Seiveril answered. “We should-”

“I don’t agree, Seiveril.” Starbrow held up his hand, interrupting the elflord. “We should assault the city the moment the mythal’s defenses fall. Why allow the daemonfey any time at all to improvise other defenses or organize a retreat? Better to wait until we are ready to exploit Araevin’s magic by storming Myth Drannor the instant Sarya’s defenses fall.”

Seiveril frowned with impatience, but he nodded. “I concede the point. The heavier our strike, the fewer will escape. At first light, then?” He looked over to Araevin. “Does that suit you?”

Araevin grimaced. “The longer we wait, the more that can go wrong. But I’ll wait until you are ready.”

“Very well. I must advise Lord Selkirk of our plans. Please excuse me. Araevin, I’m sure that Felael or Vessen can have your horses looked after and find you and your companions a place to rest somewhere nearby.” The elflord stood and took his leave. Vesilde Gaerth and Theremen Ulath departed with him. They would have a long night’s work ahead of them.

Starbrow lingered for a moment, but he left too after Ilsevele looked up at him and gave him a nod. Now what was that about? Araevin wondered.

“Mage Teshurr?” The sun elf Vessen appeared in the hall shortly after Seiveril left. “We’ve looked after your horses. I can show you to a place to rest, if you like.”

Araevin faced his companions. “Go on ahead. I’ll find you shortly.”

“I can’t promise that we’ll save you any supper,” Maresa jibed. She poked him once in the ribs then she, Donnor, Jorin, and Nesterin followed Vessen through a different doorway in the old ruin. Araevin watched them leave then turned back to Ilsevele. She still sat on one of the divans, looking down at her hands in her lap. Her hair, a dark copper-red in the shadows of the hall, was gathered in a long braid over her shoulder.

They remained there in silence for some time. Araevin stood gazing on her, and she did not look up at him. Finally he decided that he could not stand it any longer. “Ilsevele,” he murmured. “Why-?” And he stopped, unable to ask the questions that were in his heart. Instead he said, “I did not realize you were so angry with me. I am sorry if I have hurt you.”

She sighed and met his eyes when he spoke. “I am not angry with you, Araevin. I am sad, but I’m not angry.”

A sudden cold certainty descended over him. “You are breaking our betrothal.”

“I am.”

“I know we have walked different roads in the last few years, Ilsevele, but I still hope to mend that.” He waved his hand at the ruined manor and the darkening woods outside. “This will pass. We will have the rest of our lives to make things right.”

“I do not think so. There is something more I must tell you, Araevin. You are not the only one in my heart.” Ilsevele did not allow herself to look away from him. “I did not mean for it to happen. It has only become clear to me in the last few tendays. But I know that I cannot remain betrothed to you while my thoughts dwell on another.”

“I–I do not understand.” Araevin took two numb steps to the divan and sat down stiffly beside her. “How could your heart turn from me in a single season, Ilsevele? Did you feel this way when we walked together into Sildeyuir? When we passed the days of spring together in Silverymoon?”

“My heart did not turn from you, Araevin, yours turned from me.” She looked away from him, and a tear ran down her cheek. “The passion that moves you now leaves no room for mortal love. You are no longer Tel’Quessir, but something more. When you remade yourself for high magic in the shadows of Sildeyuir, you left behind the communion of the People. I cannot sense your feelings, I cannot speak to you without words. If I close my eyes, I feel your presence as a blazing fire… but your heart is closed to me. And you cannot even see this for yourself.”

“Ilsevele…” he said.

He started to tell her that it was not true, that he simply had not been paying attention, but he realized that she was right. He hadn’t spent much time around many other elves since coming back from Sildeyuir, so he had not noticed the distance he truly felt. The communion elves shared with each other, the bond that tethered the hearts of the People together, was almost entirely lost to him. He felt as if he were hundreds of miles from Ilsevele, sensing her presence only as a dimly glowing ember, when he should have felt her sorrow and her fear for him as strongly as anything in his own heart.

You will count this a great gift for now, yet you will also know regret. This was the price of the eladrin’s kiss.

Ilsevele looked up to his eyes again. “I felt this moment approaching for a long time, Araevin. It is not simply your… transformation into a high mage. I believe that we have been following different paths for a long time now.”

He gazed at her in silence for a while. Finally he said, “We have been promised to each other for almost twenty years.”

“The custom of our people,” she said, with a wistful smile. “But I think if we were ever going to marry, it should have been long before now. We lost the passion, the wonder, of our first years together. It vanished into… familiarity. I served the queen in Leuthilspar, and you returned to your studies in Tower Reilloch, and our thoughts, our hearts, turned to the things that kept us apart.” She reached out and took his hand. His golden skin was faintly luminous in the gathering dusk. “When I first began to harbor doubts, I regarded our long betrothal as a mistake. I thought that if we had married sooner, we would not have had so long to grow apart. But now I see the wisdom of the custom. Better to find out whether a marriage can stand the centuries we are given before the vows are spoken.”

He frowned, considering her words. That first summer in the woods and glades of Elion… nothing had mattered to either of them except the moments they could spend alone. In the years since, they had found glimmers of that memory, but nothing that ever equaled it. Had he asked for her hand in marriage because he sensed that distance growing and hoped to overcome it? Or was it simply a matter of doing what was expected of him?

Still caught up in that thought, he asked, “Who is he, Ilsevele?”

Now she looked away. “Starbrow,” she said. “I know it is sudden. I do not know what to make of it myself.”

Araevin closed his eyes. At least it was not anything she had tried to conceal from him. After all, she had only met the moon elf a few months ago. He was reasonably sure that even in their first travels with Starbrow, when they had explored the daemonfey portals beneath Myth Glaurach, nothing more than friendship had passed between them.