With a thirst for vengeance, sword quickly to hand Gloringas didn’t hesitate. The enchanted blade slashed down aiming to destroy the hapless evil. The innocent, pitiful visage gracing the boyish face failed to stir any sympathy and in the last possible moment a defiant spiting hiss escaped before destruction. Gloringas knew well the evil hidden behind the mask of innocence and the dead faces of the farmer and his wife clear proof.
The sliver of sword reverberated in a subtle celebration sharing with the wielder who sighed in satisfaction quite separately until the paired sensations cascaded together rewarding both for their cleansing accomplishment. Gloringas warmed to his purpose, eager to destroy every evil which fell under his gaze into the future. The boy evil, the cloak of innocence false and proven so, his blow splitting his head in two, easily, the sword blade continuing into the soil beneath.
Gloringas twitched his head slightly, the boy, outwardly normal in appearance and inwardly pure evil, Lacy’s elf-human form serene and as expected of beauty, pure and good and yet her shape shifted form, ugly and repulsive … his passion for Lacy tempered by this contradiction, challenging his long-held view! The fervent slurping of the suckling young upon Lacy’s breasts echoed in his ears, while his eyes clearly disclosed the quandary in his mind.
The vessel dead, the evil spirit couldn’t remain issuing a piercing scream upon release and termination, perhaps, or did the evil escape to seek another vessel? Gloringas didn’t know for sure, the noisy departure drawing his attention somewhat thankfully to the corpse of the wolf and the boy. The corpse of the wolf settled in a subtle roll piquing Gloringas’ interest. The body of the boy deflated, bone and flesh evidently no more the skin remaining, whole and not turning to dust. The skin acting like a wineskin quickly emptied, deflated.
In the next instant magic flooded about him, his magic, Faerie Magic, sun bright, glowing blinking light spreading and defeating the dark of night about the living and the destroyed. Touching him gently, testing and inquiring warmth familiar and homely visions of the One Tree invaded his thoughts. The light somehow satisfied, floated on and around. Several other Faerie Lights caressed him, querying and moving on. Following the procession in fascination Gloringas noted they completely ignored Lacy, attracted to his sired children, zipping back and forth, up and down their erratic movement in compete contrast with their investigation of him.
The stolen Faerie Magic sort to return to vessels familiar. Freed from their capture and possibly given a choice to return to the One Tree, disperse across the land or find adjacent to their release suitable vessels, they chose the latter. One wisp brightening significantly, quickly encompassing his daughter, her skin glowing generally, her body surrounded by a bright outline until all faded, presumably absorbed. The other wisps took more time, although eventually repeating the sequence of the first and when the last attempted to settle upon his daughter, the glow couldn’t settle. The wisp reformed and zipped away, circling and eventually, after further consideration settled upon Lacy’s abomination of a child. Gloringas certain the number embodied within each child equal now and the first entering his daughter her stolen Faerie magic returned.
Neither child seemed changed by the event. He looked down upon Lacy and her monster child, feeding finished and now sleeping. To distract himself Gloringas quickly modified another quiver. A mother's love could be tested another time. For his part anything so ugly had to be evil, an ancient code which never failed him, his position now resolved dismissing earlier confusion. Satisfied with the quiver, doubt returned, how could the Faerie magic, his magic, accept such an ugly vessel? This lingering doubt the sole reason he stayed his hand.
He wrapped Lacy and the babes in a blanket and carried the trio to the Shrine, propping her body up against the statue of the Goddess. While having survived the battle, he wasn’t sure if he could explain the events well enough to the good folk of Water Shallow to prevent any further tragedy. Certain the scream of the boy would wake anyone and yet none in the village stirred to investigate. Perhaps night kept them behind locked doors.
The false dawn greeted Gloringas as he finished cleaning the Shrine to his satisfaction, shortly after waking Lacy and thereby disturbing the babies. The Blessing of the Shrine only functioned if the traveller retained their consciousness. Although tired, Lacy grimly accepted the condition and eyed a quiver encase baby either side of her as Gloringas chanted the required Prayer to Saph and in an instant after the final word, the four vanished from the Shrine.
They left behind a mystery in the village limits of Water Shallow which included a trail of blackened grass leading to a mound of dust, the carcass of the largest wolf ever seen, an empty skin of a boy and a number of bodily remains near burnt to the ground. Unknown to the Elf Prince the burnt down corpses included former village folk. The inhabitants of Water Shallow lost years ago, the ford falling into disuse as none returned from the eastern lands.
---
Gloringas recited the prayer from memory, his singular control being the final word, which declared the number of travellers. The destination declaration within the prayer omitted as he couldn’t determine valid location names. He knew the Priests of Saph somehow envisioned the paths available to truly guide the Shrine’s miracle, beyond that basic understanding, the Elf Lord lacked the Seer Skill. Fortunately, the Shrine would interpret a lack of new destination to assume any travellers wanted to follow the last who utilised it.
Upon completion of the prayer Gloringas knew as a minimum they would travel, thankfully leaving Water Shallow and the surrounds behind. An evil rested at the ford, quiet for many years and working in secrecy until now. He pledged to return with his brothers to cleanse the quiet village.
---
Near middle of the day sunlight greeted them after the instance of transference, therefore Gloringas reasoned they travelled a great distance. The knowledge of the Sun’s movement a study of a thousand years for him and difficult for him to believe, yet eventually accept given a legacy of difference from his origins. Their destination a wonder. Trimmed and shaped thick leaf hedges encircled the Shrine, bright green grass, neat and cut surrounded. The stone of the Shrine shone, a high polish, even and smooth magnifying the effect. The reverence and devotion suggested a Priest of Saph, or several dedicated to the Shrine’s upkeep.
Two trees bowed to each other without the use of clever constructs like used in human towns, a natural phenomenon instead, their canopies forming an archway within the hedge allowing exit and entry to the Shrine Groove. Gloringas rejoiced, the forming of the arch an influence of elven kind, perhaps a brother waited to greet him in this safe haven.
Sobbing returned Gloringas’ attention to Lacy. Her eyes fixed upon a babe of abomination, a true test of a Mother's love, or so Gloringas thought. The mother looked up, cheeks rosy, tears of joy cascading down and a prideful chin jutting out. Difficult for Gloringas to accept, he managed to conceal his reaction well enough for now and distracted himself from the long term, to the short term and his perfect Faerie blessed daughter.
Resting against the Shrine Lacy lounged content suckling both babies. Gloringas patted Lacy’s shoulder and then exited the grove, sword sheathed sensing the serenity. He glanced back one last time as he strode through the arch and caught a return smile from Lacy.
The Shrine Grove one feature of a lavish estate, the lawns and gardens widespread concealing the lower floors of a grand manor house resting higher up the secluded valley nestled between twin “arms” of sheer cliff faces as if a giant hand gouged down the side of the mountain range to form the valley in the first place. The pebble stone path underfoot headed in the general direction of the manor house, although not directly. Rounding a sweeping corner, a field of yellow flowers bloomed on the inside of the curve while a row of low fruitless apple trees guarded the outside curve of the path, Gloringas inhaling the fragrances and appreciating the abundant natural life with each step.
"A Prince of Elves?" the tone friendly, welcoming, almost in awe, emanating from behind an Apple Tree.
"Gloringas is my name, and yours?" replied Gloringas, well aware of her presence and waiting.
"I am a servant of Saph, Roshena is my name. You are most welcome to our hospitality."
"Where exactly are we, Roshena?"
"That would require detailed explanation better accomplished with a map - soon perhaps?" offered Roshena. Gloringas nodded in reply, biding his time.
---
Roshena accompanied Gloringas back to the Groove to collect Lacy and the babes. If Roshena felt any revulsion, her face stayed neutral. After a pleasant stroll along the pathways, Roshena led them to one of several cottages on one side of the manor house, more a residential temple. Modest, although functional Roshena allowed them time to settle in. Food and drink waited for them inside, basic fare, bread, cheese and fruits, a banquet after the trail food. Left alone, no questions asked, no enquires, even gentle ones, Gloringas and Lacy shared their time undisturbed, their own questions to be answered when rested.
Lacy gorged herself on the food, while Gloringas nibbled and picked, his brow wrinkled.
“Lacy, I apologise for your child."
Gloringas felt obliged to offer condolences, the baby ugly and repulsive, Lacy perhaps blinded by a mother’s love. Prideful perhaps, Gloringas always fathered beauty; even the human children conceived after the first, on the fertility bed somewhat favoured in strength, intelligence and beauty. He couldn’t reconcile his failure this once with the fact Lacy celebrated the disappointing result of their coupling.
Lacy stared at him, lips parting to speak, failing and mouth snapping shut, teeth grinding. Locked in his own thoughts, several moments passed before her silence registered and fully comprehend the folly of his spoken words.
"Apologise, APOLOGISE!" screamed Lacy. "So, you see this birth as your failure, do you Elf Lord? The Elf Prince who has not created beauty according to his eye, in his image or imagination?"
He did not dare speak again, certain whatever the reply, wrong. Two thousand years of talking to women taught him the merit of silence, especially when confronted by a recently pregnant woman. Some just after childbirth best left alone or if summoned before them you stood silent; he reckoned this situation similar.
"Silence, Prince of Elves, is that all you have to defend yourself with!"
How could silence be wrong? If true, this meant a no-win situation and how could that be? Still he stayed to hear her out, if not he learnt the mother would take every opportunity to try again. Best to suffer the verbal assault once although somehow, on this occasion, the importance of the confrontation echoed within his soul.
"Have you inspected your second child?"
The words laced with venom, a challenge of some sort thought Gloringas, which didn’t make sense, the ugliness plain. What needs to be discovered? Did the mother hint a beauty existed deep down, under the skin and if you searched … Gloringas inspected the baby as invited, none the wiser?
"Do you know your child is male?"
Gloringas’ goofy blank look not the appropriate response apparently. Lacy, shook her head, hands momentarily covering her face.
"The shape changer blood line is passed through the female to beget another child is to beget another female, only a female.”
Gloringas’ mouth formed an ‘O’, realisation dawning upon him.
“Yes, Elf Prince, you have sired a male child with a Descendant, an impossibility. What change have we begun, what change will our child bring. Is that not beautiful?"
Gloringas didn’t answer, his mind numb. What would be the consequence or consequences? He must return home; he needed more wisdom than just his.
"You have existed for a long time Elf Prince and because of that you have not truly lived. As proof I offer this simple fact, for hundreds of years, until tonight, has any Elf Prince sired a child with Faerie magic. Did you or yours ever wonder why? When your Goddess failed to provide you with an answer, didn’t you think to investigate for yourselves? Where is your ageless wisdom Elf Prince? Have the Elven Lords lived the same year two thousand times over, which would then make these past months the second year of your new life." She stared at him and waited for an answer.
The Elf Prince held his ground in silence. His mind eager to respond and refute the claims made and yet falling short. Lacy’s eyes burnt bright with truth, condemning the Elven Lords for their folly, their single mindedness, broaching on madness. He surrendered to her gaze and fled the cottage, the door freely swinging. Lacy alone with both children and even with a fire blazing away in the fireplace, the warmth of the cottage extinguished. Had she said too much? No, not too much, may be too much at once she decided.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
---
The Goddess summoned Gloringas and his brothers to protect her, when the Gods walked the Land. To protect her, their primary task to grow the Faerie Forest. To grow the Faerie Forest required Faerie creatures and without Elven maidens the Goddess of Fertility permitted the taking of the first human child of a marriage if an exchange could be agreed upon. For over two thousand years nothing much changed, or maybe he and his kind didn’t notice the change. While true the Goddess failed to answer questions regarding their failure to birth Faerie children, all agreed what worked in the past would work again. It would just take patience and the Elf Princes; the immortal True Elves lived for ever … therefore, not a problem time couldn’t solve.
Lacy’s revelation of a male child, ugly though he is being born to a Descendant rocked Gloringas slightly. What did this mean? Could the ugly child beget others, taking and spoiling human women as his wanton need erupted, ugly shape shifters created in such numbers as to rule the world? What other changes has his seed wrought? He didn’t know, and his head spun, needing to lean against a tree beside the path for support! Gloringas returned to the simple facts, the male child ugly and hideous and he couldn’t believe he sired such a creature. The one absolute doubt, acceptance by the Faerie magic. Then an explanation slammed into his mind. The evil boy gathered Faerie magic to disguise his true nature. The ugly one similar, containing Faerie magic when born, probably perverted to a subtle evil, disguised enough to trick the free wisps, although one hesitated to join him. The wisp which hesitated a clear indication of a revulsion and he ignored the sign! Should such a child be allowed to exist?
Lacy certainly thought so, the reason he held back. A mother wouldn’t recognise the evil within their own child though, you fool Gloringas he admonished himself. How could anything so ugly be good? Surely only evil could live within. All enemies which attacked him in the past ugly and decayed, a simple reliable truth of this world, undeniable, ugly meant evil.
The manipulation of their Faerie magic within tricked him. Not detecting any evil in the newborn child when placed in the quiver at the Shrine. No evil detected upon the boy either, only Faerie magic, the resultant tragedy proof when the boy appeared so innocent! Maybe evil takes time to grow and manifest itself? Lacy never willingly allowed him to take care of the child and their shared intimacy possibly the greatest he knew with any mortal. The months since meeting her, so different …
He would watch and wait for the evil in the child to reveal itself and then strike it down to save Lacy from herself. She would need proof of course, his hope to strike before the child and perhaps the Faerie Forest, with many eyes the best place to raise Lacy and her child. Preparation would be required; he would need to go ahead to ensure his brothers didn’t strike first and then ask questions. The least he could do, for Lacy, even if the ugly child would bring a shame upon him.
---
The babies fed and sleeping, Lacy prepared an evening meal for Gloringas and herself, and while doing so devoted time to reflective thought. She knew her son’s birth important in an unknown way and similarly his daughter, a celebrated pair if the beautiful lights which danced about them any indication. The two children must stay and grow up together, although to Gloringas her son repulsive. Would Gloringas consider him so unacceptable, to question his very right to live? Could Gloringas be capable of such arbitrary decision making? Could she take the chance?
---
Gloringas approached the cottage, firelight flickering through the single window, an invitation to come in from the dark. Gloringas decided he would talk first, before Lacy could object, offer her a home amongst the Elven Lords of the Faerie Forest. They would remain together.
As he opened the door to the cottage, the words he planned to say caught in his throat. A single dinner setting graced the table, all else gone. Searching the cottage, no Lacy, no babies, no packs, no weapons and no cloaks, even his possessions gone! Betrayal! Humans! Always unpredictable, recently pregnant ones more so it seems. Why do they never have the time to stop and talk? Impulsive short-lived creatures! What now? His hands gripped and ungripped the table instead of flinging the plate of food across the cottage.
"Gloringas, are you ready now?"
Gloringas swivelled smartly towards the doorway. Roshena stood there. He didn’t know if his disappointment plain or concealed, although truth be told their voices vastly different and his expectation an illusion.
"Yes, ready Priestess Roshena, I will follow you now."
“Seer Roshena, Prince,” she replied.
He knew Lacy would be difficult to track down, he tried without success for eight months. Also, he needed to return to the Faerie Forest and inform his brothers of the theft of their Faerie magic from their fertility children. The first step to either required finding out where he now stood.
---
Lacy briefly thought about using the Shrine to escape, dissuaded by the fact she only overheard the prayer, hopeful Gloringas overestimated her abilities in this regard. If so, he may not even start a chase.
The climb up the cliff face a calculated risk. She acquired all the equipment; the additional weight of the babies nothing to her. Cresting the top edge of the plateau beyond the cliff face at dusk, Lacy spied Gloringas pacing, a tiny ant in the grove.
She took his cloak for warmth, ignorant of the legendary concealment properties of the garment. The Elf Prince considered the cliff face several times as a route of escape, although his steady gaze revealed nothing, fairly certain the thief of his cloak didn’t realise its quality. Cloak or not, while the setting sun lit up one cliff face, the opposite rested in shadow and looking up you would chance being blinded by sunlight peeking over. Lacy as a matter of secrecy kept to the shade and fate decreed everything should fall into place and they escaped undetected.
A great deal of unexplored forest remained in this world; she would need to find a quiet corner and raise her children and forge them into a twin bane of evil she believed they needed to be.
---
"Mother Superior, allow me to introduce Gloringas, First True Elven Prince of the Faerie Forest." announced Seer Roshena. Gloringas surprised Roshena knew his linage, his face revealing nothing. The names of the Elf Prince's and their rank would have been recorded in some book of Human Lore. A Human habit to write and record details of all things because of their short life spans he assumed.
“First Prince, I welcome you to the Seventh Grove of Saph. I trust your needs have been met."
"Yes, thank-you Mother Superior," replied Gloringas.
No mention made of Lacy or the babies, what become of them, both Mother Superior and Seer Roshena silently staring at Gloringas, expectantly. An awkward silence developed and due to his urgency to inform his brothers he made the next move, uncertain of this strange game.
“Mother Superior, I would like to return to the Faerie Forest, would travel using the Shrine allow me to save time on the journey?"
There was no answer from either of his hosts. He did notice a movement; Mother Superior clasping Seer Roshena’s hand.
Gloringas walked around his hosts and explored the room freely. He found a map and discovered the Seventh Grove of Saph didn’t exist on any continent or island of the world he recognised. While studying another map his hosts apologised to him.
"We are sorry First Prince, at times the Goddess Saph will call us to her service and our devotion to her is such we will always obey," explained the Mother Superior. Gloringas instantly wondered how such devotion would work on a battlefield while being attacked but didn’t ask the question. Instead he asked about the use of the Shrine again to help him on his way.
"Yes, we would be able to assist you. In fact, if you would permit it, we would like Seer Roshena to accompany you."
"What is Seer Roshena’s destination?" asked Gloringas, mildly curious. Hopeful the answer wasn’t the Faerie Forest.
"I am going wherever the Goddess wills me to, First Prince. I travel under her guidance and wisdom," stated Seer Roshena, plainly.
"And if we are attacked during our travels, will you stop and commune with your Goddess, when we should be fighting or if the circumstances warrant, running, Seer Roshena?"
"Oh no First Prince, the Goddess always seems to choose a time most convenient to her worshippers and others that maybe in their company." There should’ve been some mirth in the statement, there wasn’t. A serious reply from a dour future travelling companion thought Gloringas. Although not so long ago … did his brief liaison with Lacy affect him so, was this year only the second year of his living as stated by the short-lived Descendant?
"Did anyone of the Estate note the departure of the female companion I arrived here with?" asked Gloringas. Both Mother Superior and Seer Roshena looked to each other and with a silent agreement made, turned back to face Gloringas.
The Mother Superior answered, "The worshippers of Saph will always answer truthfully to any question asked by someone they respect, as with you." She paused searching for the right words and then continued, "No one of the Estate noted the departure of your companion."
Simple enough answer thought Gloringas.
"But we could investigate her avenue or method of departure." On seeing Gloringas' reaction of hope, ever so subtle and quickly concealed, the Mother Superior knew her next words would be difficult. "The Goddess has given your companion her protection, instructing us not to assist."
Gloringas felt an inner anger rise up within, the grip on his sword hilt crushing and instant, the weapon sweeping free of its sheath smoothly. The fury cleared from his eyes upon noting their retreat, a singular step, only then realising his sword to hand, instinct taking over. He recognised faith though, being just as devoted to his Goddess. If asked why, he knew the response, ‘Because the Goddess wills it.’
Sheathing the sword, he paced around the small room to work off his frustration more than his anger. Emotion on this level new to him and he didn’t like it! None of what he did would change anything. They would obey their Goddess as would he. He could investigate himself, but it seemed to him the intervention of the Goddess Saph meant only her worshippers could properly determine Lacy’s destination. This most likely meant Lacy used the Shrine, possibly with Seer assistance if they taught her the prayer, then they couldn’t note her departure.
As if reading his thoughts, the Mother Superior stated, "On my instruction the Shrine has been used at least twice since the departure of your companion." As she uttered the last word, her face twisted in pain, intense pain that drove the Mother Superior’s body to the ground, prostrate and now unmoving.
Seer Roshena whispered, "Because the Goddess wills it." She knelt and bent her head in mumbling religious utterings which Gloringas couldn’t understand and at this point didn’t want to.
The Mother Superior, using a nearby chair, slowly climbed to her feet. Looking tired, so very tired now, she managed to wave both Gloringas and Roshena on their way. Once out of the temple building Roshena instructed Gloringas to meet her at the Shrine, she would collect the supply packs for the journey.
---
“Mother Superior, so impressive,” whispered Seer Roshena.
“I wouldn’t have thought my acting so accomplish and yet him so quick to anger. I can only suspect the shape shifter, no, the Descendant has influenced or … infected him with excess emotion. Our Elf Prince doesn’t realise that in itself a significant change.”
“Why the illusion of direct contact, surely other devotees of their Gods note their fading?”
“As the Goddess of the Seers, Communication and Travel, we need to keep up the illusion and I believe while other Gods will continue to fade in the eyes of their worshippers our Goddess will find a way to return to us.”
“Why did the Shrine of Saph at Water Shallow send to here?”
The Mother Superior looked over her eyebrows, a playful smile upon her lips.
“Dumb luck. A Mother Superior before my time ordered all Shrines, when the settlement about them overrun or near destruction to make the final journey to the Dukedom’s Grove. A safety net she termed it, in case friends needed rescue or Seers needed a quick escape. At the time unusual, although given the bounty today perhaps the Goddess played a hand.”
Packs over her shoulder, Roshena bowed, “I go Mother Superior, full of faith.”
“Ensure you can settle somewhere safe occasionally to commune with your twin, we need updates.”
---
Gloringas didn’t have to wait more than a bell before Roshena appeared. Handing Gloringas a pack and a cloak she added, "Our Goddess placed us under a Geas, Mother Superior unknowingly broke that, us mortals, even her most devoted worshippers do not always know her boundaries."
She then instructed Gloringas to touch the Shrine. He heard her mumble a familiar prayer, although including a destination and in a blink the Shrine Grove empty once again.
---
Cottages and single-story buildings surrounded the Shrine. Mud filled the trails and paths from and between. A small village.
“Why here?” asked Gloringas as he noted the sun rising on a new dawn. The earlier dawn of this day or the dawn of the next day he asked himself, not knowing the answer.
“When the sun rises the Citadel of the Third King will be revealed and we need to complete some preparation.”
Gloringas twitched an eye. “I am not pleased with your choice.”
Roshena, fixed her travelling bonnet upon her head, a slight fashionable tilt.
"While your companion is under the protection of the Goddess, know, you are also."
"Under her protection!” His reply short, sharp and undignified. "Why do I need protection?” thundered Gloringas, jamming his travelling hat over his head concealing his hair and ears, a token gesture at best.
"You have uncovered something that wasn’t meant to be realised, let alone uncovered.” She took a big breath and forged on. "No offence but being immortal gives you a very different view of the world and in some cases a very blind view." She held up her hand to prevent him interrupting. "How long would the Elven Lords have continued with the fertility rite and continued to do nothing about the stolen Faerie Magic?"
While questioning and insulting the Elf Prince Roshena adjusted his travelling hat to improve the disguise oblivious to his rising emotion.
“How do you know all this?" he growled, barely able to keep his sword sheathed.
"Saph is not only the Goddess of Travel, another of her aspects is Communication, both sending and listening. Why do you think you were given a private cottage?" His dumbfounded face invited her to answer her own question. "So, you would be comfortable and relaxed, and hence talk about anything."
Gloringas paced to avoid the worst. Then she continued. "Know that the Worshippers of Saph are good listeners as much as we are good travellers. Your conversations in the cottage well known to us."
Gloringas couldn’t contain himself, the deceit of eavesdropping, her fiddling with his hat while calmly, without concern and so ‘matter of fact’ enlightening him! She spoke as if reading out a list of items from a shopping errand. Snake quick, he stretched out an arm, long fingers securely around Roshena’s neck, squeezing until with great satisfaction she stopped talking, her facial expression clearly showing distress. Shortly after her face started changing colour and he knew it wouldn’t be long now.
Then realising the possible consequence of his action, released her.
Not being evil, he couldn’t kill her, although her apathy reached within him and ignited an untapped passion for violence! He didn’t know why he succumbed to his emotions! Apologising; again, and again, over and over. The passions running through him confusing; anger, jubilation, humiliation and many more; a new unfamiliar place.
"While not the reaction I would have thought to such news, I am at least relieved that you did not strangle Me." The words rasped out with a great effort on her part and she could say no more, massaging her throat. Gloringas could concoct a medicine to cure her, except he held none of the herbs.
“So why do you think you are my companion?” asked Gloringas, finally.
“Your children will be mature in sixteen years’ time. I am with you as a reminder of time passing. You will watch me age and I will tell you when your children are ready for their father.”
---
“Wake Prince, enough,” demanded the Dryad.
Gloringas flowed within and then gently out of the One Tree, appearing beside Charis and a kneeling Elfkin, rising to her feet upon his return.
“The telling of so much, surely unwise?”
“Perhaps, although I have grown and come to terms with my emotions and the importance of the fertility rite can’t be underestimated and Charis will be privy to the tragic history and the necessity now.”
“What answer will you give when she asks about the children?”
“The truth. The Seer died reminding me every day after the sixteenth year I needed to find my children and our on and off again search fruitless, their mother proving too elusive.”