David Eddings: The Elder Gods

Zelana immediately realized where she had blundered. In a peculiar sort of way she’d treated Eleria in much the same way the child was now treating her dolphin playmates. Eleria had been something on the order of a captive audience – but not quite completely captive. The child had drawn her own conclusions. There was a certain logic behind Eleria’s conviction that Zelana’s language was reserved for poetry alone, since the only times when Zelana had spoken that language to her had been during those recitations. Ordinary conversations between them had been in the language of the dolphins.

‘Come here, child,’ Zelana said. ‘I think it’s time for us to get to know each other a bit better.’

Eleria seemed apprehensive. ‘Have I done something wrong, Beloved?’ she asked. ‘Are you angry with me because I told your poems to the finned ones? You didn’t want me to do that, did you? Your poems were love, and they were for me alone. Now I have spoiled them.’ Eleria’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Please don’t send me away, Beloved!’ she wailed. ‘I promise that I won’t do it again!’

A wave of emotion swept over Zelana, and she felt her own eyes clouding over. She held out her arms to the child. ‘Come to me,’ she said.

Eleria rushed to her, and they clung to each other. Both of them were weeping now, yet they were filled with a kind of joy.

Zelana and Eleria spent all of their time together in the grotto after that. The dolphins brought fish for Eleria to eat, and the trickling spring provided water, so there was no real need for the child to go out into Mother Sea. Her playmates were a bit sulky at first, but that soon passed.

Zelana spent many happy hours teaching Eleria how to create poetry and how to sing. Zelana’s poetry was stately and formal, and her songs were complex. Eleria’s poetry was still antique but much more passionate, and her songs were simple and pure. Zelana was painfully aware that the child’s voice was more beautiful than her own, clear and reaching upward without effort.

Eleria eventually came to realize that the language she had come to know as the language of poetry had a more colloquial form which they could use for everyday communication. She still insisted on calling Zelana ‘Beloved,’ however.

It was in the spring of Eleria’s seventh year when the child went out to play with her pink friends again. Zelana had suggested that Eleria had been neglecting them of late, and it was not polite to do that.

Late that day Eleria returned to the grotto with a strange glowing object.

‘What is that pretty thing, child?’ Zelana asked.

‘It’s called a “pearl”, Beloved,’ Eleria replied, ‘and a very old friend of the dolphins gave it to me – well, she didn’t exactly give it to me. She showed me where it was, though.’

‘I didn’t know that pearls could grow so large,’ Zelana marveled. ‘It must have been an enormous oyster.’

‘It was huge, Beloved.’

‘Who is this friend of the dolphins?’

‘A whale,’ Eleria replied. ‘She’s very old, and she lives near that islet off the south coast. She joined us this morning and told me that she wanted to show me something. Then she led me to the islet and took me down to where this enormous oyster was attached to a reef. The oyster’s shell was almost as wide across as I am tall.’

‘How did you pry it open if it was that big?’

‘I didn’t have to, Beloved. The old whale touched the shell with her fin, and the oyster opened its shell for us.’

‘How very peculiar,’ Zelana said.

‘The old whale told me that the oyster wanted me to have the pearl, so I took it. I did thank the oyster, but I’m not sure it could understand me. It was a little hard to swim and hold my pearl at the same time, but the old whale offered to carry me back home.’

‘Carry?’

‘Well, not exactly. I rode on her back. That is so much fun.’ Eleria held the pearl up. ‘See how it glows pink. Beloved? It’s even prettier than the ceiling of our grotto.’ She nestled her pearl, which was about the size of an apple, against her cheek. ‘I love it!’ she declared.

‘Did you eat today?’ Zelana asked.

‘I had plenty earlier today, Beloved. My friends and I found a school of herring and ate our fill.’

‘Did the whale have a name, by any chance?’

‘The dolphins just called her “mother”. She isn’t really their mother, of course. I think it’s more like a way to let her know that they love her.’

‘She speaks the same language as the dolphins?’

‘Sort of. Her voice isn’t as squeaky, though.’ Eleria crossed to her bed of moss. ‘I’m very tired, Beloved,’ she said, sinking down onto her bed. ‘It was a long swim out to the islet, and mother whale swims faster than I do. I had trouble keeping up with her.’

‘Why don’t you go to sleep, then, Eleria? I’m sure you’ll feel much better in the morning.’

‘That sounds like a terribly good idea, Beloved,’ Eleria said. ‘I’m really having trouble keeping my eyes open.’ She lay back on her bed of moss with the glowing pink pearl cradled to her heart.

Zelana was puzzled, and just a trifle concerned. It wasn’t natural for whales and dolphins to associate with each other in the way Eleria had just described, and Zelana was almost positive that they wouldn’t be able to speak to each other and be understood. Something very peculiar had happened today.

Eleria appeared to be sound asleep now, and her limbs had relaxed. Then, to Zelana’s astonishment, the glowing pink pearl rose up into the air above the sleeping child. Its pink glow grew steadily stronger and the glow seemed to enclose Eleria.

‘Don’t interfere. Zelana,’ a very familiar voice echoed in Zelana’s mind. ‘This is necessary, and I don’t need any help from you.’

Eleria awoke somewhat later than usual the following morning, and she had a puzzled look on her face as she sat cross-legged on her bed of moss with her pearl in her hand. ‘Why do we sleep, Beloved?’ she asked.

‘I don’t,’ Zelana replied, ‘and I’m not sure exactly why other creatures seem to need to sleep every so often.’

‘I thought you and I were of the same kind,’ Eleria said. ‘We look very much alike – except that your hair is dark and glossy and mine is sort of yellow.’

‘I’ve wondered about that myself. Maybe I’ve just outgrown the need for sleep. I am quite a bit older than you are, after all.’ It was a simplified answer, but Zelana was quite certain that Eleria wasn’t ready for the real one just yet.

‘Since you don’t sleep, you wouldn’t know about the strange things I seem to see happening while I’m sleeping, would you?’

‘They’re called “dreams”, Eleria,’ Zelana told her, ‘and I don’t think any other creature has the same kind of dreams you do. My brother Dahlaine told me that your dreams would be very special, and much more important than the dreams of the ordinaries. Did you have a dream last night that frightened you?’

‘It didn’t particularly frighten me, Beloved. It just seemed very strange, for some reason.’

‘Why don’t you tell me about it?’ Zelana suggested.

‘Well, I seemed to be floating – except that I wasn’t floating in Mother Sea the way I do sometimes when I want to rest and catch my breath. I was floating way up in the air instead, and all sorts of strange things were happening far below. Father Earth seemed to be all on fire, and his mountains were rising and falling the way Mother Sea’s waves do. Rocks were melting and running down the sides of some of Father Earth’s mountains into Mother Sea, and some of his other mountains were spouting liquid fire way up into the sky. Could something like that really happen?’