Episode 136 Trust the Magic
Trust the Magic
Starfire. In the real world? How is that possible?
With a wave of his hand, Cerian parts the wall of branches he created and slowly approaches the unicorn. “Hey, boy. Don’t be scared.”
But Starfire isn’t scared at all. He trots toward Cerian and rubs his nose on Cerian’s neck as if they’re old friends, and Cerian pats his chestnut coat in return.
“That’s right, boy. You know me, don’t you?”
“I don’t understand how this is possible,” Arisanna breathes.
“You’re the one who said the heartlanding is closer to reality than we realize. And apparently, we can talk about the heartlanding in front of Starfire.”
“Perhaps the heartlanding knew we’d need Starfire in the real world and brought him to our dream world so we could meet him there first.”
“Perhaps.”
“Cerian?”
He turns to look at her. “What is it?”
“Are we sure this is the real world?”
He frowns. “You think we’re still in the heartlanding?”
“I don’t know. Elven magic confuses me sometimes.”
“I’m pretty sure we’re awake. I spoke to my family, remember? There shouldn’t be other people in our heartlanding.”
“Just magical unicorns?”
He chuckles at that. “It would seem so.”
Starfire nuzzles Arisanna before pushing her toward his back.
“I think he wants me to ride him,” she says.
Starfire nudges Cerian, too. “He wants both of us to ride him. Have you ever ridden without a saddle before?”
Arisanna laughs nervously. Apparently, the answer is no.
“Just relax. I’ll help you.” Cerian lifts her onto Starfire’s back, and she awkwardly balances as he swings up behind her.
Before he can do much more than wrap his arm around her waist, Starfire takes off to the northeast.
Cerian tries to nudge the unicorn north with his knees, but holding on to Arisanna at the same time makes it nearly impossible.
And Starfire seems to have his own ideas of where to go.
“This isn’t the way home,” Cerian says.
“What?”
“I don’t know where he’s taking us, but it isn’t to Darlei.”
“Can’t you stop him?”
“He isn’t listening to me. He seems determined to head northeast.”
“What’s northeast?”
“The Outerlands. New Valderi.”
“Lothlesi territory?”
“Eventually. Starfire, stop. We need to go north.”
But Starfire keeps up a trot to the northeast, completely ignoring Cerian.
“What now?” Arisanna asks.
“I don’t know. Maybe he knows something we don’t.”
“Or?”
“Or he’s just a crazy unicorn, and he wants to take us for a ride.”
“Cerian, if Nebula shows up in Darlei without us—”
“I know.”
Cerian considers their options, glancing at the trees flying past. He could use his plant magic to stop the unicorn, but should he?
“What are you thinking?” Arisanna asks.
“The heartlanding sent him to us for a reason.”
“Are you saying we should trust the heartlanding?”
“Has it ever led us wrong?”
“Other than that terrifying forest?”
“Even then. If not for that night, would you have followed me into the Wildthorne Woods today?”
She takes a moment to respond. “I don’t know.”
“What if our lives in both places are entwined, and we just need to trust the magic?”
“I’m not sure I can trust the magic like that, but I trust you.”
Her trust weighs heavily on him as he glances left toward home.
What if he’s doing the wrong thing?
But Elowyn had a feeling, and this is where the magic seems to be leading them.
“Let’s trust Starfire, all right? You’ll be safe with me no matter where he takes us.”
She nods, her grip on his leg tightening as her fingers dig into his thigh.
He’s strong. He can do this. Prove he’s worthy of her trust in him.
Keep her safe.
Starfire increases his pace, and Cerian holds Arisanna close.
Hopefully, he isn’t leading her wrong.
The next time Tharios opens his eyes, late afternoon shadows have formed, and Viala still curls up against him.
“Hey, faerie,” he whispers, his voice thick from sleep. “You must be bored. And stiff.”
“I’m immortal. I don’t get stiff.”
“Lucky.” He rolls to his back and groans, and she turns to face him with her hand on his chest and her head on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around her.
“I am bored, though,” she says. “I ran out of ideas for how to kill you an hour ago.”
“I’m not certain I wish to know.”
“Some of them were quite creative, but I’ll spare you the details in case I decide to use them in the future.”
“I hope that means you’re not planning to murder me today.”
“There was a fair amount of deliberation, I admit. But it would be more satisfying if you recovered first.”
“Good to know.”
“Are you feeling better? You aren’t groaning as much now.”
“I feel like I could sleep for days, but the nausea has passed, and I’m more stiff than sore now.”
“Do you think you can ride?”
“Perhaps. I suppose we’ll find out.” He starts to sit, but she presses him back down.
“Not yet, elf prince. Your parents are scouting at the moment. Rest a little longer. They should be back soon. Then you can make a fool of yourself again.”
“What would I do without you to keep my spirits up, faerie?”
“You’d be dead.” Her voice is syrupy sweet, and a weak laugh fills him.
“Fair enough. Can I at least put my trousers on now?”
“I thought the more stimulating the touch, the faster your life magic will recover.”
“I hope you’re in jest. I can barely keep my eyes open.”
“I’m sure I could wake you up.” She crawls on top of him, and he smiles.
“Is this on your list of methods for killing me?”
“I haven’t killed you yet, have I?”
“You know, the stimulating touch is more for healing stunted life magic. Ordinary touch works fine for depleted life magic.”
“If you wanted ordinary, you shouldn’t have married me.” She kisses him, and he runs his hands along her sides under the blanket that covers them.
“That was a Nunian word,” he murmurs between kisses.
“It’s one of the few I know. Did I use it right?” She doesn’t give him a chance to answer before she kisses him again. She seems in control of her magic, for the moment at least.
A throat clears nearby, and Tharios freezes.
“I believe he’s feeling better,” Father says.
“I see that.”
Tharios closes his eyes and groans at the sound of Mother’s voice, and Viala laughs and rolls to the ground beside him.
“If you can do that, you can ride,” Mother says.
“In my defense—”
Before he can finish, his trousers land on his face.
“You’ll want those,” Father says.
“It might be drafty without them,” Mother adds. “We’ll ready the horses and Stardust. I expect you to be dressed when we return.”
They disappear into the woods again, and Tharios pokes Viala. “Thanks for that incredibly awkward moment. Now they expect me to ride, and I’m not even certain I can stand.”
“Your mother can strap you in place with vines if necessary. Ah, there’s my dress. Someone must have found it.”
She crawls to her feet, and he pushes himself to a sitting position.
“The world is spinning,” he mutters.
“It always spins. That’s why we have sunsets. And sunrises.” She smirks over her shoulder at him, and he shakes his head.
Which doesn’t help the dizziness.
“You’re awfully playful, faerie.”
“It’s either that or let my terror engulf me.” Her voice is quiet, and she stares at the shimmeron gown in her hands.
“How’s your magic?” he asks softly.
“I’m managing. I...I made it rain earlier. With my tears.” She looks away, but not before a single tear glistens down her cheek.
So the playfulness truly is a shield.
“Viala.” He’d go to her, but he’d probably fall on his face.
“I survived. I’ll survive now.” Without another word, she tugs his shirt over her head and tosses it to him.
Her hands are shaking.
“Have you eaten anything today?” He slips the shirt on. It smells like her now.
“I had some chocolate. A handful of nuts and dried berries someone gave me. There’s not much to eat here, and my stomach...” She shakes her head and wipes at another tear. “You’ve broken me. I was doing so well being strong, and now I’m a weepy mess.”
“You endured a lot today. It’s all right to feel everything you’re feeling.”
“Are you speaking as my healer or my binding partner?”
“Both. Why don’t you put your gown on and come sit with me again, my love? I may need your help with my trousers.”
A laugh breaks through her tears, and she slips her gown into place. “You never stop caring for everyone, even when you’re dying. I adore your heart, but I’m furious with you over it this time.”
“You have every right to be angry.” He gently tugs the short cord connecting them until she steps toward him. One step and then another. She doesn’t fight it, even when he pulls her onto his lap.
And then the tears come. Sobs as he holds her and whispers softly in her ear. A light drizzle forms out of nowhere, but he says nothing. A little rain won’t hurt them.
Movement catches his eye, and he looks up to see his parents watching nearby, but they don’t rush Viala.
And Tharios just holds her while she cries.