Hadespera
The 27th of Thargelion
The Year 4631 in the Era of Mortals
“This has been nothing but trouble,” Lyssa groaned, rubbing her face.
She sat with Theodorous at his desk, listening to Fig loudly protest his innocence and his outrage at being locked away in Theodorous’s room. Two guards stood outside the door, which had been affixed with an external lock, and another outside his window, ensuring he couldn’t escape.
“I’m afraid there’s going to be more trouble when the next entourage of elves show up,” Theodorous said. “Though, I do appreciate what you did.”
“I could hardly let him kill you.”
Theodorous grimaced.
“It was careless of me, wasn’t it? I shouldn’t have provoked him. I am deeply sorry.”
“Nonsense. You’ve apologized for it three times, already. It is no more your fault this time than it was the first. Figoritolos abused the authority my father placed in him and came looking for a fight. You are a human and you addressed him directly. After his encounter with Arche, you could have been the most accommodating host in Tartarus and he would have found reason to harm you.”
Theodorous nodded, but she could tell by the look in his eye that he wasn’t convinced.
“You know him well, then?”
“He was my friend. The others he traveled with, I knew them less well, but Fig and I learned to walk the forest together. He was very close with…” Lyssa trailed off.
“Archousa?” Theodorous asked when the silence grew too long. “Are you all right?”
She nodded. “He was close with my brother.”
“Ah, my apologies.”
Lyssa shook her head. “You did not cause his death.”
Theodorous frowned, then rocked his head back slowly in understanding.
“Cultural difference,” he explained. “I am not apologizing out of guilt; I am empathizing with your grief.”
Lyssa frowned. It wasn’t the first time she’d been corrected on this point, but she was still no closer to truly understanding it.
“Humans do a lot of that, I find. I’ve found myself doing it occasionally since I left Dawnwood. I don’t understand, why would you want to feel my grief? It is a pain all would avoid.”
“Because friends don’t let their friends suffer alone.”
Lyssa considered that.
“What is the common response in humans when you are empathizing grief?”
Theodorous pursed his lips and gave it some thought.
“Generally speaking, they say ‘thank you.’”
A muffled, wordless shout came from the room and something heavy hit the door. If nothing else, the carpenters had proved their worth. The door didn’t so much as shudder. Theodorous cleared his throat and made a vague gesture in that direction.
“Has he always been like this?”
“Obstinate?”
“I was going to say strong-willed and small-minded.”
“I think you could find harsher words, if you wanted to.”
“I think you’re right.”
Lyssa smiled.
“Yes, but it wasn’t always this bad. Or, perhaps, I was not on the receiving end of it. He has a confidence to him that has always attracted followers. He is gifted with swords, capable with a bow, and a decent enough tracker. He was old enough to remember what the humans did to our village. I didn’t know he harbored such hatred for your kind, though I suppose I can hardly be surprised.”
Theodorous frowned.
“What did humans do to Dawnwood? I don’t recall ever hearing about an elven village this far into the Sylv.”
“And you wouldn’t. Two hundred years ago, we lived closer to the city you call Ship’s Shape. We knew it by a different name, Ephyra. We were still days’ journey inside the Sylv but your city was more willing to sponsor settlements in those days. Some of those settlements would trade with us. They learned our ways and used them to grow close to us, to be welcome inside our homes. Then, troubles came. An elf was stabbed during an argument and that was the end of a peaceful relationship. Humans and elves grew predatory toward one another. Soon, neither was welcome inside the village of the other.”
“What happened after that?” Theodorous was on the edge of his seat.
“One of our Elders was kidnapped. Taken for ransom or slavery.” Lyssa had to consciously unclench her jaw. “My father reacted violently. It was the start of open conflict between our people. Many died.”
“That’s horrible.”
Lyssa nodded. “It was, yes. We ended it victorious, but more than three score elves died. A collective total of more than ten thousand years of experience was lost to us. As our leader, my father commanded the very forest to shield us and Dawnwood was carried deep into the Sylv, where it currently resides.”
“What about the Elder that was kidnapped?” Theodorous asked. “Did you ever recover them?”
A flash of memory played in front of her. A woman’s broken and mangled body. Eyes that once gleamed bright with love, now dark and frozen in fear. Her father’s pained cries upon seeing her; the sounds that escaped him belonged to a wounded animal, not an elven lord. Hands that had once been the safest place in the world for Lyssa were cold and lifeless, never to hold her tight again.
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“Her captors killed her before my father could reach her. His pain and failure have compounded throughout Dawnwood by two hundred years of isolation, but he has not wavered in his devotion to his people. He is the only one of them who is fit to rule.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been a horrible thing to experience.”
“Thank you.”
They shared a small, grim smile. Theodorous leaned back in his chair and sipped at a mug of tea.
“What response should we expect from Dawnwood? I doubt they would be willing to overlook the imprisonment of one of their own.”
Lyssa glanced at the door to Theo’s room, which stood stubbornly stiff as Fig pounded against it.
“Lord Cypress will send an official delegate. Someone important, capable of dealing on behalf of the village. I imagine there will also be an armed accompaniment.”
Theodorous frowned into his drink.
“You don’t think they’ll attack, do you?”
“Not outright – but they’ll be prepared to attack if provoked. I will meet them outside of Myriatos and we will deal there. If it turns violent, I do not want our people in harm’s way.”
“I have good news on that front. The palisade should be finished by sunset and the parapets by tomorrow.”
“Excellent.” Lyssa stood. “I daresay it’s time to feed our guest.”
With a wave of her hand, she retrieved a tray of bread, wild berries, and a small pitcher of water from her inventory. Theodorous’s brow furrowed slightly.
“I don’t think it’s wise to do this yourself, Archousa. It always aggravates him.”
“That’s part of why I do it, Theo.”
“And the other part?”
She hesitated. How could she explain that it was because she wanted to show Fig that life was larger than Dawnwood? Or that if anyone was going to placed in danger by a Dawnwood hunter, it should be her?
“The rest is for my sake. Check in on Abraxios for me, would you? I want to know how our new mages are progressing.”
Theodorous looked as if he were about to say something, then nodded. “I will.”
With a wave of his hand, his tea disappeared into his inventory and he headed toward the door. Lyssa approached the howling cell of Fig. The guards gave a quick salute and opened the door for her, swords drawn and pointed at their prisoner to keep him away.
Fig paced the narrow confines of the room like a cornered predator, his eyes fixed on Lyssa. She walked inside, ignoring him as she laid the tray onto the bed, next to another tray full of the same. She took the old tray and tucked it away in her inventory. The guards shut the door behind her, leaving them alone with relative privacy.
“Three days without food or drink,” she said, slipping into elvish. “You must be thirsty.”
“I would not sully myself by accepting food at your hands.”
Her fingers twitched with the desire to slap him but, instead, she put on a smug expression.
“Perhaps you can answer a question for me, then. How is it that an ego so large can hide inside a mind so small?”
Hatred dripped from his being. He shook with it.
“Release me. By keeping me here, you risk war with Dawnwood.”
“Dawnwood will not risk itself to save you.”
“What would you know of it?” Fig snapped. “You’re not one of us. You broke the sacred law. You are not an elf; you are a defiler.”
The golden tattoo around Lyssa’s hand prickled, but she kept her temper in check.
“And you were once my friend. Tell me, was it really so easy to throw away over a century of friendship?”
Fig met her eyes for all of three seconds, then looked away.
“I thought I knew you, but I had no idea the depths you would fall to. You killed my closest friend, our future king. You broke our law, turned your back on our society, and threw your lot in with humans and satyrs.”
“Yes, I did. But Dawnwood turned its back on me, first.”
“Lies.”
“Is it? Tell me, why do you think Gregorinandiir is dead?”
“You were jealous of his position, so you lured him deep into the Sylv, murdered him, and left him for a kýklōps.”
“Is that what happened? And how did you learn of it?”
“I…” Fig paused. “That’s what the Elders told us.”
Lyssa tapped the side of her head with her palm.
“Ah, of course. I forgot they were there to see everything unfold. They witnessed everything. That is why they were able to make their deliberation so quickly. That is why Lord Cypress advocated on my behalf. Because everyone knew exactly what had happened.”
“Are you calling the Elders liars?” Fig growled.
“I loved my brother, Fig. Neither you nor anyone else can take that from me.”
“It’s easy to spout your love for him while he is dead. Murdered by your hand!”
“And it’s easy for you to condemn someone when you haven’t the slightest idea of the truth.”
“It doesn’t matter what story you weave here,” Fig said. “It doesn’t matter what sad circumstance you invent to explain away your crimes. You led him into the forest, far past the limits of our hunting grounds, and he died. You took advantage of his love for you and he died because of it. Look me in the eye and tell me that isn’t true.”
Lyssa shuddered. That much, at least, she couldn’t deny.
“It’s true.”
“Then I know all I need to know. Everything you’ve done since is only further proof that you’re a traitor to your kind. You’ve thrown in with elf-killers and abominations.”
“I led my brother into the Sylv because I wanted to prove to him that I was better at something. I never wanted him to die. Not a day goes by that I don’t wish myself in his place. He fought the kýklōps to save me. I spent every arrow I had to take it down, but it wasn’t enough. My last arrow wasn’t sent in jealous rage, it was kindness. To give my brother the quick death he deserved when escape and victory were strangers to us.”
“You should have fought and died beside him, as I would have.”
“I should have, but I didn’t. I feared death’s sting. I feared what it would do to our father. I was so full of fear. I fear no more.”
“Cowardice marks your lips and ears.”
“And incompetence marks yours. What magic possessed you to lie about your authority and attack someone in my village? You endangered every elf with you.”
“Myriatos is a stain on the Sylv. A parasite suckling at the bosom of nature and balance. You don’t belong here.”
“You condemn me for recklessly getting my brother killed and yet you can’t comprehend that you nearly ensured the slaughter of seven elves, yourself included.”
Fig blinked. “That’s not what happened.”
“Isn’t it? Then tell me, what do you think would have happened had I let you kill my steward, as you intended? Do you think our guards are for show? Do you think that Vik would have spared you because your ears are pointed? Do you think elves are so superior that the seven of you could defeat a hundred others?”
They were shouting, now.
“I was investigating the whereabouts of the vampire, as I was instructed.”
“And murdering my steward is part of that investigation, is it?”
“He’s a human. It’s hardly equivalent.”
“In Myriatos, it’s completely equivalent.”
“His kind breed like rats and will flood this forest with vermin. Without measures in place to cull them, they will choke all life around them.”
Lyssa sighed and lowered her voice.
“They’re people, Fig, no less alive and no less important than you. That you can’t recognize that fact is only further proof that you can live a hundred lifetimes and still die a fool.”
“At least I won’t die a traitor.”
Lyssa knocked twice on the door.
“We shall see.”