Chapter 6
In the peculiar realm of the Alvamar's mind, healthy tissue shimmered with a faint blue light, damaged areas with a deep glowing red. He focused in on to the traumatized region of the prince's neck, checking over the damage carefully. It looked like a work of art, he acknowledged to himself. Reza had grown far beyond the skills he had gained as his apprentice. Blood vessels had been stitched painstakingly together with silestra thread, tissues brushed with the juice of the tisra plant before being sewed up. The Alvamar swiftly checked over the rest of the prince's injuries. Nothing major. All that was required now was the return of the prince's life-force to animate this shell and start up the healing process.
The Alvamar opened his eyes and removed his hands from the prince's, looking pensive.
"Everything looks good," he said looking over at the castle healer. "You've done wonderful work." Reza inclined his head, accepting the compliment modestly.
"I've sent word to the Queen. She should be here shortly. In the meantime, please accept some refreshments," he answered. As he turned, he nearly bumped in Lorelei who was still haunting the room.
"Perhaps Warrior, you would like to clean up," hinted the healer gently. She flushed faintly.
"Thank you, but I think I should stay here awhile longer. The Alvamar's curse, you know." The healer shot a glance back at the Alvamar.
"Yes, perhaps that would be best," he smiled. "I don't think I'll be much use if anything untoward suddenly happened."
At that moment, a commotion sounded in the outer rooms. A moment later, the Queen's retinue entered into the prince's chamber.
"My lord!" The Queen swept forward in a swish of heavy silks to take the Alvamar's hands. "Thank Mira, you are finally here!"
"Your Majesty," replied the Alvamar, bowing smoothly. "It is a pleasure to be able to serve you and the prince." The Queen looked over at Lorelei.
"Warrior. My thanks to you for getting the Alvamar here safely," she said as she held out her hand. Lorelei sank onto one knee, and kissed it in the royal salute.
"It was a fairly uneventful journey, Your Majesty." smiled Lorelei faintly. The smile on the Queen's face broadened.
"I'm sure it was..." she replied. At a single look, another warrior stepped out of the retinue. "Alyssa, you should thank Mira for your niece's safe return."
The Alvamar's gaze sharpened as he heard the name of Lorelei's famed aunt. She was almost an exact copy of the niece except for the strands of gray in her bright auburn braid. Alyssa in her turn folded her niece in a tight hug.
"Majesty, it is no surprise to me that Lorelei is back here, hale and hearty. She has the uncommon luck of the insane,"
Alyssa continued as she drew back and pretended to cuff the younger warrior affectionately. She was rewarded instantly with a jaunty grin.
The Queen then moved to her son's bedside to stroke his hair gently. The smile on her face faded into a look of loving concern as she looked down at the pale face of her only child.
"Is there any hope, my lord?" she asked softly.
"Of course, Majesty! He is young and strong, and the castle healer has done a sterling job in setting up his recovery. All I require now is some incense and perhaps your help." The Queen swung around to meet his gaze.
"Anything!" she swore intensely. "What do you desire of me?"
"I will need an anchor when I travel to recover your son's life-force. Someone with a vested interest in his successful return. Both our lives will depend on that person. We will not make it back otherwise."
"Of course, my lord! Instruct me in what I should do." Alyssa stepped in immediately.
"A moment, Majesty." She turned to face the Alvamar. "How dangerous is this position of... anchor, my lord?" she asked sternly. He regarded her quietly, congratulating her silently on her wise concerns.
"There is an element of danger involved. The anchor risks being pulled into the Hinterworld along with me and the prince."
"Then you are saying that there is a chance that the Queen could be lost as well as the Prince," she pressed.
"Yes," answered the Alvamar, matter-of-factly.
Alyssa shook her head.
"Then it is impossible. The Queen cannot take that risk," she stated firmly. The Queen started to protest but she was fixed with her bodyguard's stern gaze.
"Selene, think of the possible consequences! Both you and Barion out of reach. The country will be thrown in chaos and we will all be under Taren's thumb in no time at all. As your personal guard, I cannot allow it."
At that point, the hereto ignored Lorelei stepped forward firmly.
"I will do it," she announced. Alyssa sent her a questioning look.
"I have a vested interest in getting the prince back safely. I have already put my life at risk to get the Alvamar here." And Barion was my first lover, she added silently. Looking over at the Queen's face, she could see that the other woman was remembering that too.
"No, Lorelei," began Alyssa irritably. "I should be the one." At that point, both the Alvamar and the Queen overruled her.
"Lorelei and I have already linked," said the Alvamar, putting an end to the argument quite effectively. He looked her over with a appraising glance. "She would be a fine anchor." Every gaze in the room turned onto Lorelei, standing there, looking wonderfully confident on the outside but busy quailing on the inside. Being lost forever in the Hinterland wasn't a particular pleasant prospect... But a warrior's duty was to take risks like this for her liege lord.
The Queen clapped her hands, startling everybody in the room.
"Everybody out! Bring the incense immediately." She turned towards the Alvamar, taking his hands once again.
"My lord. Please bring my son back safely."
He nodded. "With your prayers, Majesty."
Fifteen minutes later, with the scent of the incense flowing around him, the Alvamar slipped into a deep meditative trance. Once again his hands were resting on Barion's. Lorelei stood with her hand on his shoulder, her eyes half-shut. She had already been put into a half-trance by the Alvamar minutes earlier, awake enough only to be aware of her surroundings and of what she had to do.
The Alvamar floated gently within his own mind. Slowly, he rose into a vertical position even though there was no substance beneath his feet. Everything around him was a mad whirl of rose and purple but there was order and beauty in the patterns. Slowly, he turned to see the shadowy image of Lorelei over his shoulder. She stood there immobile, more like a cardboard cutout than a three dimensional being. At her throat pulsed a silver glow, the heart of her life-force. He reached for it and drew a thin thread of light from it. Swiftly he tied it around his ankle, using her as a lifeline. His way home. When he was ready, he concentrated on the words of the spell.
"Esra lehin carpatha...Lemia shukra zhe"
The faint outline of a doorway appeared before him, its edges wavering. Beyond that, Chaos. Swiftly, he metamorphosed into his favorite form, a peregrine falcon. With a challenging shriek, he drove through the portal and into the shifting mists of the Hinterland.
Wings outspread, he shot through the dizzying patterns, the trail of light streaming from his ankle. His eagle eyes searched before him, looking for a similar trail, anything to show him where the prince existed. Every now and then, small explosions of lights occurred around him as other souls entered and departed the Hinterland almost instantly on their way to Mira's Arms. Suddenly, he noticed a faint trail, turned dark with age and broken up but certainly showing the presence of a being. Swooping down, he lined himself up with it and shot further and further into the unknown. Flashes of images and voices came to him as he traveled, none of which he recognized. Then suddenly he slammed through a painfully hard wall.
Trilling in surprise, he spread his wings and landed onto a firm floor. Around him was the semblance of a peasant's hut and sitting at a corner table was a little dark-haired boy. The Alvamar transformed himself back into his human form as fast as he could. When he rose to his feet, the boy was looking at him disconsolately. The Alvamar gasped at the familiar face. Faint memories suddenly crystallized. A peasant woman with a young boy laid out on one of his examining tables. A boy with the face of this boy here. The faint words "Please my lord, bring back my son." He had failed to find him then but fate had allowed it this time. If only, it wasn't a century too late..
"Do you know where my mama is?" asked the boy hopefully a high, piping voice. The Alvamar's mouth worked silently. The child had been here alone for over a century, not knowing what had happened to him. Waiting endlessly for his mother to return home. Guilt and the horror of the situation suddenly overwhelmed him. Had he looked hard enough the last time?? This child had paid the price of his failure. An innocent child... The Alvamar shook his head in mute denial. Suffering here all alone..
A soft tug on his robes brought him back to this reality. The small face looked hopefully up at him.
"Do you know when she'll be back?"
The Alvamar sank onto one knee, struggling to regain his composure. The small face in front of him looked into his eyes trustingly. He felt another wrenching bolt in his soul. This was inhuman! Every moment he sacrificed to help this child lessened the chances of his finding Barion but every single fiber of his being demanded that he set this wrong right. He took a deep breath.
"Your mama had gone to Mira's arms, child, and she wants you to meet her there." At the puzzled look on the boy's face, he continued quickly. "Don't worry about a thing, I'll help you get to her."
His mind raced. It was obvious that the boy did not know what had happened to him and that he had, by sheer force of will, kept himself in the hinterland waiting for his mother. How was he going to get the boy to go onwards when he probably didn't even know what death and heaven was?
The only way he could start a change was to convince the boy to go into the unknown. To be willing to face it alone. And what was a better symbol of going out into the unknown than walking out the front door...
"What is your name, child?" he asked.
"Jenest, sir."
"Jenest, your mother is waiting for you in another place, a better place." The Alvamar forced a smile to his lips. It's like a big festival there, with all sorts of goodies and kids to play with!" Jenest perked up at that. "Wouldn't you like to go find her there?" Jenest looked a little uncomfortable at that.
"Mama said that I can't go out by myself. She told me to stay here until she got back. She would be real angry if I showed up there without permission..."
"Well, she got delayed," said the Alvamar, lying skillfully. "She told me that she was worried that you were here all alone and I told her that I would give you a message when I came through here. She wants you to walk there and it's only a very short walk at that."
"Can't you come with me?" asked the boy plaintively.
"No, son." said the Alvamar gently. "It isn't time for me to go there yet. But a brave boy like you needn't worry about going by yourself."
The Alvamar took Jenest by the hand and drew him to the door.
"Don't be afraid by what you see," he said softly as he opened the door. Beyond the doorway was the terrifying emptiness of the Hinterland. The boy shrank against him wordlessly as looked out into nothingness. The Alvamar got back down onto his knees to look into the child's eyes.
"Remember Jenest, your mother would never let anything happen to you," he said gently. "Nothing out there can harm you. Just trust in her and yourself..." With that he planted a swift kiss on the boy's forehead. "May Mira take care of you."
Jenest turned to look at the darkness before him and took the first step to eternal rest. And another. And disappeared in a flash of blinding light. The Alvamar gasped as he squeezed his eyes against the brightness. The floor beneath him disappeared as did the rest of the cottage. It was time for him to move on.
He was a falcon again, flying through nothingness, searching for his quarry's trail. He didn't know how long he had been flying and he didn't really care. Here, he had the strength to fly forever... Suddenly, he caught a faint whiff of humanity and then he saw it, a faint trail of light in the darkness. Once again, he swooped down to follow it, his own light trail blazing brightly behind him. The end of his search was upon him in moments...
Barion lifted his head off his knees to see an unusually large falcon land beside him on his barren rock. He knew exactly where he was so it didn't surprise him in the least when the falcon's body unfolded into a man, standing over him.
"His Royal Highness, I presume," said the stranger.
"Who are you?" demanded Barion.
"I am known as the Alvamar. Your mother sent me to bring you back." Barion's lips curved into a bitter smile in response.
"Is there much of my body left over there?" The Alvamar looked somewhat startled.
"Your body is fine."
"Are you lying?" asked the prince, an challenging glint in his eye. "I have no wish to go back and find myself a cripple or worse."
The Alvamar lowered himself down to sit by the prince and ran a hand through his hair.
"I swear to you on my honor, that the only injury you sustained was a slit throat," he said wearily. "True, it is very serious cut. The truth is that even if you go back, there is no guarantee that you would live. Time has only slowed for you. You might still bleed to death from the injury but the good news is that your healer has had time to throw the odds in your favor." The prince remained silent.
"I can't force you to go back with me, of course. But personally speaking, I would grab any chance, no matter how faint, to get out of this place. There are a lot more appealing choices than spending eternity here."
The prince cracked a smile. "I was beginning to get a little bored...," he answered wryly.
Lifting his head, he took a long look at the emptiness around him.
"So when do we leave?"
In Barion's room, deep night had fallen and the two figures near the bed remained frozen in trance state. Around them, sat the faithful few watching for a change. Any change. Alyssa stood stoically behind the Queen's chair. The healer had fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion in a chair. The Queen herself looked like a cold, marble statue as her eyes rested on her son. "Selene." The Queen started at the soft voice and looked over her shoulder.
"Selene, go to bed. I'll keep watch for you," said Alyssa kindly. The Queen shook her head mutely and turned her gaze back to her son's silent form. Another moment passed in silence. And then the body in the bed jerked spastically as it drew in a shuddering breath. The Queen stiffened in her chair and uttered a hopeful cry. The prince drew in another long breath. The Queen was out of her chair instantly and bending over him, calling his name. Alyssa sprang forward to wake the healer and he was as the prince's side instantly, checking his pulse and the bandage around his neck carefully.
An instant later, the Alvamar uttered a soft groan and opened his eyes slowly to witness pandemonium erupt around him. Warriors running out the door to spread the word, the Queen weeping openly over her son, the healer trying to convince everyone to back off and give the prince some air. Behind him, a soft moan as Lorelei came back to herself, aching in every muscle and feeling completely strung out. The Alvamar smiled a soft, beautiful smile to himself, sank back into his chair and felt into a deep, healing sleep.
Continued in Chapter 7
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