Mercedes Lackey: When Darkness Falls

Though Vestakia's appearance caused some consternation among those who had never seen her before, there was no fear. Everyone knew that the Demons were defeated and gone.

Others spoke, though briefly.

Cilarnen spoke, telling not only of the kindness he had received from Idalia, but of how much he had learned from her.

" — for she was the first true Wildmage I had ever known. I am a High Mage of Armethalieh, a Master of the Art of High Magick. All my life I had been raised to think of the Wild Magic as something little different than the Darkmagery itself, and Wildmages as little better than Demonspawn. Idalia did not even bother to tell me it wasn't so. She simply showed me it wasn't, by everything she was and did."

And then, to Kellen's vast and unsettled surprise, Lycaelon Tavadon came forward to speak. The young gray-robed Mage by his side assisted him to the table; when he stepped away, Lycaelon leaned upon it heavily.

"Idalia was my daughter. But I do not come today to praise her as a daughter. I never valued her as a daughter, and never knew her. For her entire life — every hour and day of it — I was her unswerving enemy, and when I discovered that she still lived, I sought her death with all the power at my command. But she… transcended all that she had been as a child of the City. All that she might have been as my daughter. She died, not as an Armethaliehan, but as a hero to all the land. And it is for that which I praise her to you here today."

He bowed his head, and the young Mage came to help him away.

No more speakers came forward. The ceremony was finally over.

It had been a moving and honest speech, and Kellen was mildly surprised that Lycaelon had made it — though he was actually more surprised that Lycaelon had made the journey all the way here to the Elven Lands at all.

Did it make a difference to his feelings about his father?

Kellen wondered.

No. It had been something of a shock to see his father here today, but, seeing him again, Kellen realized that all feelings for the man who had given him life — whether they were feelings of hatred or love — were simply gone. Lycaelon had never given him a chance to love him, and all hatred had been burned away by the intense self-knowledge required of a Knight-Mage.

If Lycaelon had not been who he was, Kellen would not have become who he was.

And if Kellen had not been who he was, the Demons would have won.

All went as the Wild Magic willed — and as Idalia had told him once, the Wild Magic wasn't a tame magic, and its workings weren't always comfortable. In a way, it had needed Kellen and Idalia, so it had created them, by sending their mother Alance to Armethalieh in the first place.

He could live with that.

They truly had sent Idalia to rest, Kellen realized suddenly. For the first time since he had seen her body at the Standing Stones, he felt at peace. The ache of her loss was still there — and would be with him for a long time to come, he knew — but it no longer felt like a wound that would never heal.

Suddenly he felt a sense of Presence. " When the time comes, you must… let go. "

In the Caverns at Halacira, a Price had been asked and granted. He had thought it would be a heavy one, as so many of the Prices of the Wild Magic were.

Now, here, today, he realized that paying it would free him, not burden him.

And that he had been paying it ever since the end of the Battle of Armethalieh.

Let go.

It was time to let go of all that the Wild Magic had made of him.

Not to let go of being a Knight-Mage… that was something he would be until the day he died. But to let go of being a Commander of Armies. A General. Someone who had learned to see other people as tools and weapons.

He must let go of war, and battles, and death.

Let go of the deaths of his friends and loved ones, and keep their lives instead. Let go.

Yes, Kellen thought, with a sigh. I can do that. The sense of Presence lifted.

He looked around, feeling, as he always did afterward, as if he'd just awakened from sleep. The world seemed somehow fresh-washed and new, as if it were a place he'd just now come back to.

He sought out Andoreniel.

"I See you, Andoreniel," he said politely, when Andoreniel noticed him.

All around them, the people were returning to their homes, in the quiet graceful way that Elven ceremonies ended.

"I See you, Kellen," Andoreniel said. "It pleases me to speak with you once more."

"And I with you," Kellen said. "It occurs to me that I have been… too long away from civilized things."

"That is often the case, when one must do battle to keep those things safe," Andoreniel said. "It would please me greatly were you to consent to dine with me tonight. It will be a quiet meal, and there are matters I would speak of with you afterward."

A quiet dinner sounded just about right to Kellen. "It will be my pleasure," he said, bowing.

* * * * *

HE moved out around the edges of the crowd that was still assembled there, thinking of nothing so much as going home and brewing up a nice pot of tea. He didn't trust himself to make a drinkable pot of Elven Tea — well, not one he'd offer to one of the Elves, anyway — but Vertai had somehow seen to it that the larder was stocked with a fine assortment of Armethaliehan teas as well, and a large pot of Armethaliehan Black would be just the thing. Along with a good slice of the breakfast pie he hadn't had any appetite for this morning.

"Kellen! Hey!"

There was just about only one person in the entire Elven Lands who would hail him in that fashion. He stopped and turned.

Cilarnen was running after him, clutching his Staff of Office in one hand and attempting to hold onto his high-crowned Arch-Mage hat with the other. His long gray robes and ornately-embroidered tabard flapped wildly about his ankles as he ran.

Kellen grinned despite himself. That was a sight he'd never expected to see — a High Mage of Armethalieh — and not just any High Mage, but the Arch-Mage — running like a common servant.

Things had indeed changed.

"Kellen," Cilarnen said, catching up to him. "Were you just going to leave without saying goodbye?"

"You looked busy," Kellen said. Actually, Cilarnen had looked surrounded by High Mages, and that was somewhere Kellen didn't really want to be. "I thought I might see you later." Certainly Vertai would know where to find Cilarnen. The Elven penchant for gossip was one thing that the war hadn't changed.

"See me now," Cilarnen suggested. "We'll be leaving in the morning. I can't stay away from Armethalieh very long. Light alone knows what the Council will have done while I'm gone, even with Kardus there to tell them not to. I left him my seal."

"In that case," Kellen said, "they're probably still paralyzed with shock. Come and drink tea with me."

The two friends walked in silence for a while.

"I've never seen you dressed like this," Cilarnen said doubtfully, regarding Kellen's formal Elven finery.

"And I've never seen you dressed like that," Kellen said. "You just look — "

"Appropriate," they finished together.

"It isn't exactly the way I thought it would be," Cilarnen said. "Being, well, Arch-Mage."

"Worse?" Kellen asked.

"And better," Cilarnen said. "Now that the people know that they're a part of the High Magick — really a part, because we couldn't cast our spells without what they give us — things are different in the City. They can choose to wear the Talisman and stay… or leave. Nearly everyone has decided to stay. Those who haven't, well, they can go anywhere they want. Or that will have them. There's an amnesty — they have until the end of the sailing season to make their arrangements to leave; I'm not just going to throw anyone out, no matter what the Council is urging. Next year… well, I'm going to start trying to get the Council to ease the restrictions on new goods. We'll have to, because of the trade we need to do. But Father was right. I can't do everything at once. I only wish I could."