It was early evening by the time Damien made it to Ashlyn's house. He wore a light colored shirt with a leather-made jack, and dark brown pants that went well with his outfit and shoes. He had combed his hair over in a slick arch because the alternative was a mop of messy brunette strands. He knew Ashlyn liked to dress nicely, like a high-born, and he wished to avoid embarrassing her by showing up in his usual, grungy attire.
The young woman opened the door to him, holding a picnic basket in her hand. Damien had expected her to wear some delicate dress with lace and sequins, but instead she wore a simple white gown and her blue traveling cape. Her shoes closed over her toes, obviously fashioned for walking rather than impressing.
"Oh." Damien took a step back. "Are we going somewhere?"
Ashlyn stepped out and closed the door behind her. "I thought we could have our supper by the river," she said. "There's a nice spot I enjoy, I'm sure you'll like it too."
"I've already been to the fall," he said, scratching his neck. He was not particularly fond of the crowded eastern lake.
"No, it's not quite as popular as that," she said, and started moving down the steps. "My spot is closer to the Heart, and there's a stunning view at the bottom."
"The bottom of what?"
"A fall, not as large as the eastern one but very beautiful."
"Alright." Damien gestured. "Lead the way."
He didn’t realize he’d been craving a nice walk through the woods until they started on their trail. The sun hadn't yet disappeared, but it hung rather low in the sky, casting a bleeding orange onto their path. He enjoyed the calm around him, and the company. Ashlyn's art of conversation was nothing close to brash or annoying. The girl had wisdom and poise beyond her youthful age. When she spoke, Damien listened and was fascinated. She told him about the forest, about the history that had taken place in these more western parts of the Gumberwood. Damien liked history, liked hearing about it as though Ashlyn had been there.
Damien knew the spot when they came to it. There was indeed a scenic waterfall that cascaded down beside a table-shaped rock and splashed into a basin dotted with other boulders. Ashlyn moved onto the big boulder that rested in the middle and placed a blanket down before sitting.
Damien tried to keep his feet from getting wet as he followed, but it was necessary to move through a couple inches of water in order to reach the place. By the time he climbed up to join her, Ashlyn was already pulling out their supper; a simple meal of venison, bread, cheese, and apples. After stacking his meat and cheese onto his bread, he bit into it and was pleased by the taste.
The view was beautiful as well, and the sound of powerful water pouring down beside him added to the experience.
He gawked at his surroundings, smiling as he took it in. "This is nice, Ash, I think I see why you like it here."
"Yes." She enjoyed the view with him. "I've missed coming here. There never seemed to be enough time, not during my short visits at least." She took in a breath, as if she were attuning with the forest and its nature-filled beauty. "I have to get used to this again, being outside in the open. Being in the forest."
"Is it not so open where you were?"
"Well, it is very scenic in Tyron," she said. "There are plenty of gardens to stroll in, pools to enjoy, fountains to sit by. But, no, it's not as authentic as the forest. It's all...created. Some parts are even pure illusion, like the banana trees— things that we can't even grow in Lorianthil."
"What's a banana tree?" Damien puzzled.
"Exactly," Ashlyn giggled. "Plants you would never see here."
"Ah, so that's where you've been living all this time? A place with false trees and fruit."
"Not all of it's false," she corrected. "We still have to grow and eat real food, but yes...Tyron is a mage-made island, a place for us to study and learn without all the heavy risks and responsibilities."
"And now you're done with it?"
"Yes." She bit into her food. "I don't have to go back, not if I don't want to. There are plenty of mages who choose to stay once they're elevated, but I..." She paused, gripping the crystal blue necklace Damien had given her. "I have other tasks to do."
"Would you leave again?" Damien asked.
"Not for a while, no. I need a break from it all, I need to rest."
"I think Gumber is a good place to rest," he nodded, let out a breath. "Ash..." he adjusted his legs, "I was wondering if you could do something for me? It's an odd request."
"Name it."
"Could you show me what happened to Kallus' father? They say he was close to Ithil, your predecessor. They say he was her slave, and I wanted to see for myself if it was true or not."
"By slave, you mean...?"
"I honestly don't know," he confessed. "Something about a soul?"
"Oh." Her face went still. "I didn't think Ithil had a soulmate. She was married in her lifetime for political reasons, but there was never any mention of her taking a soulmate."
"A soulmate?"
"That's your concern, yes? If Kallus' father was bound to her?"
"I guess," Damien shrugged. "That's not the word Kallus used. He specifically used the word slave."
"Mmm..." Ashlyn grew skeptical, "Sorceresses don't take slaves, Damien. They can bond with a mortal, yes, but they can't take a mortal's will. No one can control another being, not without corruptive magic. Dark magic. And Sorceresses are incapable of using dark magic, it’s like poison to us.”
“I thought it was like poison to most people,” Damien said.
“Yes…” Her gaze drifted to the side. “Imagine being the most vulnerable to it. Ithil wouldn’t have taken that kind of risk. No Sorceress would.”
"Then I'd like to see it for myself," Damien said. "I need to know what happened."
After considering a moment, she nodded. "We'll go back after supper and solve this puzzle of yours."
"Thank you, Ash."
Damien stood in Ashlyn's bedroom, looking at the wide, clear blue frame cast by the girl's focusing staff. The room was dim, which made her staff glow all the brighter. Damien had never been in Ashlyn's room before; it was much tighter than his own, but at least it allowed them to glimpse the past without onlooking eyes.
With a verbal command, the blueish frame grew even bigger, spread across the width of the room. Ashlyn’s eyes glossed over with a milky hue, and after a few strings of language Damien did not understand, the frame danced with moving pictures.
He saw an elf, large and rather heavy-set for a man his height. His hair was a perfect, shiny blond, thicker around the eyebrows and beard. His eyes were a fiery reddish-brown, his nose and chin were fairly slender. Damien recognized a few of Kallus’ features, though they weren’t many.
"That's Kallus' father?" he asked, and Ashlyn nodded.
"His name is Halthend. Or...was Halthend. He died in recent years."
They watched the elf's life story play out in glimpses: A forest village sat small and alone, filled with inhabitants of thin, lanky stature. Some had antlers protruding from their foreheads, others had ears that flared at the bottom and thinned out to a curvaceous tip. In a word, these villagers seemed old— not because they were mature and aged, but because this was a different time.
The Age of Ithil.
Just by reading the village and its low technology, Damien could tell this was a time when Animal Druids and Lor Elves lived as one culture. Their structures were fashioned of wood and clay, their tools were rock and bone. By the darkened colors of the frame, he assumed this vision of the past was set at night.
In the center of the village, under an open canopy of stars, Halthend stood beside a burning pyre that lifted smoke into the sky. Upon the pyre was a corpse, already scorched to blackened bones. Standing near it all was a line of five younger elves, each with their hands crossed over in front. Each with a solemn look.
The lady Ithil stepped into the picture soon after, a woman of tall stature and cascading gold hair. She bore the elegant grace of a Sorceress, with papery white skin and eyes so pale they reflected moonlight.
She was sad. Even through the sheer frame, Damien could see tears wetting the woman's eyes. Her body was draped in mourning robes, a deep hood covered her head. Halthend paced over to her, placed a hand on her arm but she took offense at it and scowled.
“You did this.” She pushed his arm down. “How many of your heirs must die before you see the utter madness?”
Halthend’s fierce eyes flashed. “We all know the cost of power, Ithil.”
She shook her head, shedding more tears. “She did not have to give so much, not for you or anyone.”
“There was nothing to be done, Ithil. Her blood was weak.”
“Weak?” She pushed her hood back and crowded him, forced him to step backward. “You are a coward! You took advantage!” Her eyes bore into his, her jaw and teeth clenched. “You are the one who is weak.”
“No—” He protested as she gripped him by the throat. Her eyes glowed, shimmering more blue than white, and Halthend was brought to his knees. The elf's eyes began to glow as hers did, matching the same blueish hue. When the light faded, his lids shut and he toppled forward onto the ground. His body writhed, his skin seemed red and hot with the burn of a Sorceress' touch. Soon, he stopped moving altogether, as though he had succumbed to a forced sleep.
Ashlyn dispelled the vision and let her glowing irises return to normal. For a long while the room was silent, a grave mood drifting.
Damien stared at a point on the floor. “Is that how he died?”
“No,” Ashlyn answered. “That was the incident in question. It seems Ithil truly is behind his insanity.”
"Who was on the pyre?" he asked.
"Their daughter."
"How do you know?"
"I can move through the all-seeing plane as I choose, but I must admit, I did not know about this past of Ithil’s before. It’s not preserved in any record.”
"Perhaps she was ashamed of it?”
“A plausible theory. I didn’t know that she was part of Kallus’ family.”
This made him perk. “What?”
“Think about it. If Ithil bore one of Halthend’s children, she would have belonged in that same House.”
Damien blinked. “You’re saying Ithil was Kallus’ mother?”
“No, Kallus’ mother was not a Sorceress, but Halthend did have several wives. Sired several heirs. Many of them died young.”
"How?"
"Sickness?" Ashlyn shrugged. "A sickness that comes from the strain of blood magic."
“What kind of—” Damien cut off, pinching his nose. “Why blood magic? Don’t the elves draw enough power from their runes?”
“They do now, yes.” The girl nodded. “Back then, they gave more importance to blood rituals. As their patriarch, Halthend would have overseen it all.”
“And he sacrificed his own children for it?”
“Not intentionally, I’m sure,” Ashlyn said. “But I have heard stories from that age. Many Lor elves did fall sick and die from that kind of power.”
“I would have punished Halthend, too,” Damien said sardonically.
Ashlyn paced a bit. “It bothers me that I’ve never read about this in any books. It seems Ithil had two lives. She dwelt in Gumber for a time, but I’ve only known her as the Queen of Lorianthil; a brave woman who helped establish the human kingdom."
"She must have been young with Halthend," Damien said.
"Quite young. Little more than a girl, I'd say. Kallus was young, too, at the time. Still a child."
"I wonder why he's never mentioned this specifically. You'd think..." But Damien trailed off, shaking his head.
"Yes. I think Kallus' fear of Sorceresses is justified," Ashlyn said. "He probably witnessed the worst violation one could ever commit, and had to deal with that tragedy."
Damien crossed his arms. “You understand him far more than I do.”
"Well, I am an empath. I have sensed a constant turmoil, not unlike you."
He cleared his throat and said, “If you’re the example, I have a tough time picturing a Sorceress doing harm to anyone.”
"Despite what most think, Sorceresses aren't perfect. We feel emotions like anyone. Anger, grief, powerlessness…sometimes pain is unbearable. Sometimes…we make mistakes.
“I see the same with Ithil. Probably why she left the forest and sought a place amongst the humans. Became queen."
“Thanks for showing me, Ash. It helps.” He drummed on his thighs for a moment before meandering toward the door. “I should get back home. It’s dark.” But as he descended the front steps of the house, he heard Ashlyn speaking sheepishly behind him.
"Would you...like to join me tomorrow? I was going to search for rocks."
"Rocks?" Damien chuckled. "Why do I need rocks?"
"Well, I figure if you're into making jewelry now, you might want a collection of stones for it."
Damien held his chin. "Actually, you might be right. I don't have many choices when it comes to pendants. Where would we get these stones?"
"I like to pull them from the river," she said. "It's surprisingly fun."
“I thought your idea of fun was sitting by fountains and reading books,” he teased. “No sense of adventure.”
“Oh really? Compared to what, making swords but not learning to use them?”
“Ouch.”
After a bout of laughter she pushed his shoulder and said, “I have a sense of adventure.”
“Whatever you say.” He grinned. “Tomorrow? I could make that work.”
“All right then. Meet me here.”
Damien could sense her delighted smile as he turned and walked off.
Upon his return to the manor, Damien found Kallus sitting in the common room with a mug of ale in hand. Damien did his best to pass by without addressing the elf but Kallus caught his attention and said, "I told you to come home promptly. Supper doesn't take six hours."
"To be fair, it is a long walk," Damien said, planting himself on the staircase. "She took me all over the woods. I'm sorry for losing track."
Kallus rose and paced over to him, held a stern expression. "What kept you?"
Damien hung his head and sighed. "I've been letting Ash dig into a few matters for me. I needed her Sight."
"You do not need a Sorceress' power, boy. There is little to gain from it."
"I disagree. It's been quite useful."
"Then take care not to use it much. You cannot rely on Ashlyn to tell you all the answers, it would behoove you to find them yourself."
"Heh, you think I want to use her Sight on myself?" Damien laughed. "No, I'm not that stupid. I'm just looking into the past, that's all."
"Hm." Kallus' eyes scanned over him, made the boy uncomfortable, but after a moment he nodded. "Get some sleep. You look faint."