“A small army of Icilics. It was so out of the blue that we had little time to prepare. They hadn't stopped trading with us or anything. A ship of them came to our shores one day, and attacked with little rhyme or reason. The story was that one of their own traders had relayed the information back to Glacia about Celena living here with a human husband and a mutt of a child, and they didn't take kindly to that. Killed a good number of the sailors and merchants on our dock before Celena came out to offer herself up if they'd stop their attack. Thankfully, Cerin was in Sera, or else they would have killed him for being an impurity in the bloodline.”

“Offer herself up for what? What did she think they'd do, forget their grudge?” I knew this was going nowhere good, and it frustrated me. To have tragedy befall what was a happy family because of some elven racism and arrogance enraged me.

“I don't know what she thought, dear. I wasn't in her head. She just saw innocents dying and thought it was because of her. So she went with them as Lucius was held back and screamed after her.”

I watched Red as she exhaled slowly, and stopped wiping at the bar. She looked as if it would upset her to continue. “And then?”

“And then we waited. Lucius knew she would come back to him if she could. It was a full season before an Icilic trade ship arrived with a package addressed to him.”

My stomach felt like it was drowning in its own acid. “What was in it?”

“Two things, actually. Celena's head, and her arm with a ring Lucius had given her still attached.”

“I have to be honest,” Nyx spoke up, “I've never seen one of these elves, but if I ever do, I'm pretty sure I'd be stabbing first and asking questions later.”

I felt nauseated knowing that Cerin's parents had gone through so much, and then, by association, him as well. “How can the oldest race of elves in the world also be the most savage?” I pondered aloud, my voice lacking energy.

“You're asking someone who doesn't have the answer,” Red replied. “As you can probably understand, Lucius went a little crazy. He became an alcoholic overnight. His neighbors started telling me they could hear him screaming from his cabin. He'd come here and drink all day and night until I'd kick him out. He would ramble drunkenly about getting a war party together and going to Glacia to kill every elf he could, but he was never sober enough or motivated enough to try to follow up on it. Sometimes he'd go into rampages. Sometimes he'd cry. It didn't become a problem until he started picking fights with my patrons.

“So one night, he's sitting at the bar, and I have this lute player up on the stage, working for tips. Well, Celena played the lute, so that didn't sit well with Lucius. He got up from the bar, shambled on over to that stage, and knocked the musician straight to the floor. I was halfway to him, since it wasn't like him to get up from his bar stool without some prodding. He fought me for a little bit, until finally, after one good punch to the head, he went down.” Red hesitated. I stared at her, waiting for her to continue. She didn't seem to want to.

“You took him home?”

“No, he was already home. All it took was that one good punch to the head.” The bartender's voice was thick with remorse.

“You killed him?” My chest felt heavy. This was too much tragedy for one family, particularly one that included someone I once cared about.

“I didn't mean to. But sometimes, that's all it takes.” Red watched me through glazed over eyes, as if waiting for me to cause a scene.

But I didn't. Because I believed her. I knew she felt for the family; I could see it in her eyes. She had simply been protecting her bar and her patrons.

“It wasn't long after that when we received a messenger from Sera. I remember that day, because it was the first and only time I'd seen a griffon.”

“They sent one of The Twelve?” I asked. The Twelve was a small arm of the Seran Army, which included twelve of the most experienced battle veterans from across Chairel, each of them with their own griffon mount. It was the only armed unit I knew of that utilized griffons, as the beasts were notoriously hard to train and equip.

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“They did. Can't remember the man's name. He asked if we had heard from Cerin Heliot yet, and we told him we hadn't heard from him in a number of years. He went on to tell us that if we were to ever hear from him, to send an immediate message to Sera. He told us that if Cerin were to come back to Thornwell and we were to be found to be harboring him, our village would become an enemy of Sera and everyone with knowledge of him could be imprisoned.”

A sharp pain sliced across my stomach at the severity of that statement. “Why?” I asked, desperately.

Red simply replied, “He wouldn't tell us.”

“Did Cerin ever come?”

Red watched me carefully. “No.”

“You're lying,” I retorted, testing her. “I am on the run from Sera, myself.”

“Why would you tell me that?” She asked me, concern etching itself through her skin.

“Because you won't tell me the truth with the fear it will reach Sera, and it won't. I have no plans on returning.”

Red's eyes glanced over to Nyx, who had been quiet for awhile. My friend lifted up two deep purple hands.

“I know the discomfort of the Seran dungeons,” Nyx said. “I have no love for Sera.”

Red looked conflicted. In the end, she must have decided we were as trustworthy as I had deemed her to be. “Yes, he came. Once, about six years ago. The loss of his parents was a shock to him, and the reason he left the university was kept from us. The lad was only fifteen. He'd traveled for the better part of two seasons to get home, just to learn all of that. And then, he found his childhood home had been sold since his father's death, so he came here looking for a place to stay. He didn't have any money, but he offered to trade me a night's rest for any of his belongings.”

“Did you?” I questioned.

“No.” Red paused, looking downright depressed by this point. “I told him he wasn't welcome here. I told him what the messenger had told us, because no one else had the guts to tell the kid that after learning everything he just had. I told him that I could lose everything I own and my life if Sera were to find out I'd even spoken to him.” The innkeeper paused, inhaled slowly, and went on, “Poor kid was a broken mess. Begged me for help. I told him all I could do was give him a loaf of bread and send him on his way. I promised him that I wouldn't ever report his visit here to Sera, but I couldn't promise that someone else wouldn't.”

“That was the last you saw of him?” My heart broke for my former friend. I wish I had known any of this was going on at the time. Though knowing about it wouldn't have made it easier to do anything for him.

“No...he asked me where his father was buried. So I told him about the small tombstone we'd had fashioned for Lucius up on the hill, and he left. The last time I saw him, he was standing over his father's grave. I'll never forget that, because he had such long, black hair, like both of his parents, and it was waving in the wind.” Red paused for a moment. “It stormed heavily that night. I remember having trouble falling asleep, hoping he was safe.”

Silence settled over us in the bar. Even Nyx was quiet and thoughtful. After a few minutes, the innkeeper said, “I haven't heard from him or of him since. I hope he's okay. Can't imagine where he would have gone, given this was his only home. Was hoping maybe he'd figured out how to get through whatever trouble he'd gotten himself into in Sera, but given you came here from there, that's unlikely.”

I turned around on my bar stool, glancing out the window. “Where did you say Lucius's grave was?”

Red pointed to the right, where there was nothing but more bar. Outside, though, there was a crest of a small hill. “We put him up on the hill, where him and Celena would picnic in better times. Lucius made his wife a spyglass that she would look through up there. Swore up and down she could see Glacia if the skies were just right.”

“Thank you,” I said, before standing. Turning to Nyx, I added, “I'll be back.”

I walked alone out to the grave, finding it only after some intense searching in the long grasses. The gravestone was a simple cube of smoothed stone with Lucius's full name etched through the polish, and the years of his birth and death. It was a nice gesture from a village that had been the life and death of the man.

The wind blew past me, coaxing my red hair to ride along its current. I looked to the ocean, where the water was waving in trepidation for another oncoming storm. I could see why Cerin's parents found this to be a beautiful and peaceful spot. I tried to find Glacia somewhere along the farthest reaches of the ocean that my eyes could see, but I could not.

My eyes found the gravestone again. I tried to imagine what was going through my former classmate's mind as he stood here, broken and alone. Where would he have gone? Would he have survived? I glanced up. Along the horizon from which we'd walked from not long before, I could see just the slightest image of the forest we'd left behind. Far to the left were the peaks of the Cel Mountains. If I were him, I would have sought the shelter of the forest.

I began to walk slowly back toward the inn. Perhaps I would never get any more of the answers I sought, and perhaps I would never see Cerin again. Seeking answers had only created more questions. Perhaps finding out the answers to my parentage in Whispermere would allow me to be at peace with leaving one mystery in my life behind.