Time passed; it seemed like ages, but the room was soon cleared, save for the last of our guests who decided one last celebratory drink would suffice. They cheered and sang, spilling drink onto the table when they clapped their cups together, but my attention was unnerved by the fact nobody seemed to notice the three figures who came into the hall earlier in the night. They clung to the corner shadow like flies on a wall, and I tuned my senses but found no reading. It was odd to me, and when the last of our guests departed, bowing their drunken respects, my aunt moved to close the door behind them, passing the quiet individuals with no acknowledgement.
She turned, and again did not seem to notice, but she stopped in the middle of the room and lifted her arm with a limp wrist. My uncle skirted his chair back from the table, straightened his clothes and brushed back his hair, then circled around the table and approached her, bowing slightly as he took her hand, then started a slow dance to no tune in particular; but then, faintly, as though off in the distance, I heard a wooden instrument played with a horse-string bow, slow in rhythm but the note did not change. As I tuned my ears I could pick up other sensations, and I couldn't help but close my eyes.
I heard two of the same instrument. They seemed to battle eachother for supremacy, but beautiful and precise, as though one took the lead while the other played rhythm, and they seemed to pan from one side of the room to the other, and within the colors in my eyelids I could see my uncle and aunt dance, still as slowly, still as beautifully.
The song drew to an end and I opened my eyes slowly. My aunt and uncle were gone. I looked to my right and saw that my father was still there, and to my left, my mother. My brother toggled backwards in his chair, rocking himself with the pressure of his legs on the table, his arms crossed and his eyes closed. He must have heard the same music, and I wondered if he fell asleep, but that wasn't a strong concern.
"Where did they go?" I asked, to nobody in particular.
"Irlaede doesn't much care for these things," said my mother calmly," so your uncle took her to bed. He will return."
"What things?"
"Approach," my father boomed, waving his hand. It startled me, as I had completely forgotten about the three strange figures, who began their walk down the long hall.. I looked forward, adjusting my eyes to the darkness as the flames around the room seemed to dim. The one who had removed his hood earlier led, followed by the other two, and they stopped just a few feet before the table, and bowed in synch. When they looked up, the two who stood behind the man in front took off their hoods, and it surprised me. I gasped softly, for I did not want to appear rude, but couldn't help myself entirely. The tall one had the head of a lion, where the smaller had one of an elk.
"Greetings," said the elk," to you and your family, King Azmondalius."
"Greetings, Lady Ciluyue," said my father, blinking and nodding slowly as he spoke," and, greetings to you, Lord Falkend." The lion did not move.
"A pleasure as always," he said. I could hear his throat rumble as he spoke.
The man in front raised his arms to both sides, a look of disappointment on his face. My father stood, staring at him with a cold expression, before he walked around the table and stopped in front of my vision. I saw the spots under his shoulderblades twitch as if his wings wanted to grow and expand from under his tunic. I wanted to say something, but before I could he lifted his arm, and the man grabbed it forcefully. They embraced for a moment, then returned to their respective statures, and I felt two noteable emotions emanate from my father; joy, and fear, and it was such a strange mix that I didn't know how to process it.
"Twenty years, Ban," my father said," twenty years."
"I would have visited sooner," said Ban, his voice higher than I'd expected it to be," but you know how things are."
My father chuckled warmly. He went to grab a chair, but Ciluyue raised her hand, and three chairs lifted into the air from the long tables, floated to ours, and positioned themselves opposite of us. My father hesitated, but smiled softly, then moved slowly back around the table to sit at my side again.
Ciluyue, Falkend, and Ban gently approached and sat down in the chairs, as if propriety called for their demeanor. Ciluyue crossed her arms on her lap. Falkend was still, watching my brother rock in his chair, and Ban had bent over the table, grabbing a bottle and cup in the process.
"I am sorry for the sudden appearance," said Ciluyue, watching Ban as if chiding him with her obsidian-dark eyes. She blinked and her gaze moved to my mother, who seemed to force a smile on her face when the elk did so.
"The Eldengar are always welcomed," said my mother," though it seems you always have a reason to appear informally."
"Nan," my father hissed quickly, and my mother raised her head nobly. Ciluyue appeared to ignore the insult.
"But..." she continued," events of late have given us reason to appear in Dractalemh. My forests are no longer safe from warring and bloodshed. The trees are cut down and never replaced. The water dries with no supplement. They are dying."
"The winds carry the scent around the lower world," said Falkend, then he snarled," I can smell it even here."
"I have come to return something to you," said Ciluyue," something I believe no longer to be safe in my hands. And something I have no power to dispose of."
My father was silent. I had no idea what they were talking about; I was too busy looking at each new face, trying to decipher why they felt so familiar. Just then, my uncle appeared from the dark of the room, made his way back to his seat, then bowed respectfully at the newcomers before he rested. I noticed a pang of irritation on the lion's face, but he seemed to disregard it just as soon as it came. My mother's fingers tensed on her drinking horn.
"You aren't speaking of—"
"I am," Ciluyue bit back, her gentle face now narrow and somewhat ferocious for an elk," we have no other options."
The elk leaned back in her chair. Ban appeared not to trouble himself with the conversation as he took a drink from his cup. CIluyue swiped her left hand over her right, muttering something to herself, but it was a language I did not know. Then, as if appearing out of fog, a small black box materialized into her palm. Ban continued to drink, and my father watched him with narrowed eyes, but I had the impression it wasn't Ban he was upset with.
"It is yours, you once said," Ciluyue said softly," and so it must be. You will take it."
"Will?" my uncle sounded as if he was reprimanding her. Ciluyue looked to him, her brow furrowed once more, and then she sighed, and closed her eyes.
"Please, Azmond," she said my father's name informally," You must take it. Anywhere else, it would be dangerous." I heard a growl escape from my father's throat.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
"What is it?" I asked inquisitively, wanting to be part of a conversation I had no business in. Ciluyue blinked, and it almost looked like surprise, as if she had not seen me.
"Vysedda, keep quiet," my father said softly, but Ciluyue raised her hand at him. He didn't seem to take any offense in it, but instead allowed her to stare at me with apparent intrigue.
"Is this yours?" she asked aloud, as if she didn't know what I was.
"She is our daughter," my mother growled," and no concern of yours."
"Are you so sure?" Ciluyue asked, and Falkend turned to her, then whispered something in her ear. She nodded in respect to my mother," I am sorry, I meant no insult. I only meant..."
"She is saying," Ban burped into his cup, but continued to speak between gulps of mead," your daughter is a curious entity. Not one I've ever felt."
"Speak plainly." My father sounded as though he was running out of patience.
"Both of them, I mean," said Ban, turning to look at Falkend, who had a habit of staring quietly at my sleeping brother.
"Is this one his as well?" Falkened pointed to Tallam, and Ban nodded. Falkend turned his gaze, and when Ban shrugged, Falkend grabbed my brother's feet and lifted. My brother rolled back in his chair, hitting his head on the wooden boards below.
"Fuck," he grunted under his breath.
"You do no one favors by pretending, prince," said Falkend in his rumble of a voice. My uncle seemed to smile when he took a drink from his cup. My brother, still rubbing the back of his head, repositioned his chair and sat down, wincing in subtle pain.
"Who are you, anyway?" Tallam asked rather casually, and the lion blinked. I swear he resembled my uncle, both stoic and quiet in nature, only speaking when spoken to, but I did not see, nor feel, any emotion on him. That, I thought, was a key difference.
While I was busy coming up with more questions than answers, the lion raised a hand and, to my brother's and to my surprise, a flame sprouted from his palm. His eyes softened as my brother stared into the colors that seemed to change. It was blue, then yellow, then hints of red and orange, but it returned to blue, and then yellow again. It was much different than mine, and my father's and my uncle's.
"Touch it," Falkend rumbled.
My brother appeared disconcerned, but obeyed, and then his face changed, and he raised his hand slowly to touch the fire. Falkend did nothing as my brother reached, and the blue and yellow began to dance around his fingertips, as if trying to find something that wasn't there, but then the flames rose, and my brother, startled, pulled back, but the flames stayed in his hand, and were removed from the lion's palm. It emanated radiantly, and my brother twisted his hand around to look at his palm, and then again to look at the back of his hand, but when he closed his fingers the fire dissipated.
"What was that?" he asked, to nobody in particular.
Falkend looked pleased, the first time I'd seen him do anything other than stare or judge. He looked at Ciluyue, and she nodded. Ban stopped drinking as well, but he was staring at my father, and my father challenged his gaze.
"Az," said Ban," your children may have sky magic."
Sky magic? I'd never heard of such a thing. In fact, I assumed magic was a myth until our three guests arrived, and my powers, and those from whom I've inherited such powers, were considered natural. So, I was confused, and I looked at my father in an effort to beg for answers, but I noticed his eyes were wide, and his muscles tense, so I decided to hold my questions until a later time. It was silent for a moment longer. My father blinked, and his face rested.
"Absurd," he said," it is not possible. The sky magic is long extinct." Ciluyue chuckled, and I did not know she could.
" My dear, magic comes and it goes," she said," the sky magic existed once, and it is entirely possible sky magic may have returned—"
"I wish no longer to speak of this," my father cut her off, and it was apparent he was upset. He picked himself up from his chair, and my mother followed suit. "Perhaps when I am well-rested could we speak of this further."
Ciluyue challenged him with her gaze, then in defeat she stood. Ban and Falkend stood as well, and the three bowed as my father and mother took their leave. I noticed, as I watched them go, my mother grabbed hold of my father's arm, and his hand curled to snuff out an ignition of flame. When they were gone Ciluyue and Falkend decided there was no reason to stay. Falkend asked something of my uncle in a language I did not understand, and my uncle nodded tiredly. Then the elk and the lion left the hall. Ban, for some reason, decided to stay. He sat back down, and I had decided to ask a burning question in my mind.
"Was it you?" I asked him, and he looked at me with surprise," the music?"
"Yes, it was," he said," a tune your uncle and aunt favor over others."
"How do you know..." I didn't know how to ask properly," how do you know my family?"
"Your father," he said, pouring me a drink," was my closest friend, roughly fifteen hundred years ago, I think. I met your mother then, as well."
"I don't understand."
" I was not much older than a boy. Barely started to grow a beard," he said, brushing his face," and I was poor, alone. I was a thief, a rogue, but an especially good one, I like to think."
My brother scoffed an elvish word and my uncle smacked the back of his head, then muttered something about listening to the story, but my ears were tuned to Ban's voice. I picked up my cup of mead and took a drink as the man continued.
"Unfortunately, not so good enough to steal precious jewels from visiting dwarves in Cair. They found me out, beat me, and I was arrested. Sent to the dungeons. It was there that I met your father."
"Father? Imprisoned?" said Tallam, chuckling," that's probably the funniest thing I've heard all day."
"Oh dear boy, you have no idea. Your father was alone, no friends or allies then. But he helped me out of my cell, and when we tried to make a break for it we were stopped, by none other than your mother, and her father, the Lord Taerentym."
We did not hear from our parents of our grandfather, but we did know of his name, courtesy of my uncle and aunt, who happened to tell it to us on the rare occasion he could be mentioned. I never quite figured out why he was kept secret from us, and I wanted to ask Ban who seemed so knowledgeable. I quite liked him, in fact, but that was only due to his mannerisms, which so resembled a carefree mind, different to ehat I've seen from Falkend and Ciluyue; I could not tell otherwise why I was so drawn to him.
"But enough of that story," he said with a grin," perhaps I will tell you more as we get to know eachother."
"Are you staying?" I asked, genuinely hoping he would, and he nodded.
"For a time," he leaned in close," as long as we need, in fact, but we come and go with the wind."
My uncle looked up from the table at him, and Ban's smile seemed to twitch as he stared at me. He seemed so full of life, but he radiated no energy, as if he was hollow; a set of bones and skin and nothing more. Ban gave my uncle a glance before standing from the table, bowing with respect, and excusing himself from the hall. I could only watch him go as I longed for the things I did not know, and I finished my drink, then left the hall in search of my father.
My mother was with him in their room, stroking his hair as he seemed to drift in and out of conciousness. She saw me but did not stop as she raised a finger to her lips. I nodded, found a chair in the corner of the room, then sat down quietly.
"Ask," she said softly.
"I would like to know," I said, then stopped, trying to find the right words," I wish to know about my grandfather, the Lord Taerentym."
"What would you want to know?" her voice deepened, almost spitefully," he is the high king of Teles, my birthplace. That is all you should want to know."
"I want to know what he was like," I said, raising my voice a bit in a pout, but I kept myself calm," I want to know more about my family."
"I do not see why—"
"You tell us nothing," I said, hissing through my whispers," we deserve the right to know about our family, do we not? Isn't the truth better than secrecy? What if I found out something you do not agree with, and I despise you for it? What then?"
"Vysedda," my father groaned between his calm breath," your grandfather and your mother are just not on speaking terms. If you would wish, we may go to Teles in a few days, but for now, please, do not persist."
"And you," I said, not trying to anger him," you have a family as well but... we hear of nothing other than Aunt Irlaede and Uncle Tsu'caro. Ban, a complete stranger to me, would answer me how you two met, but it is the first time I have ever heard it. And I know it was not a lie or uncle would have said so."
"Enough," breathed my father, growling with an apparent headache. I began to raise my voice, and he challenged the volume.
"I just want to know! You never tell us anything!
"I said, enough!"
"But why not? You could at least tell me the reason!"
"Vysedda!"
"Father!"
"You will do as I ask!" He yelled this in a commanding voice. He lifted himself from the bed to stand over me, his wings sprouted and glorious from behind his shoulders. I was, admittedly, afraid of the face he gave me, but I did not understand the grave importance of the events of the day. Soon I would, but for now I feared my father, for the first time. He challenged me with his eyes, and I could do nothing until they softened. He let out a breath of steam, then waved me off, and we did not speak for a few days.