48. The Last of Us
Chapter 48
The Last of Us
18 th Day of the Blood Moon
Aravell – Winter, Year 3081 After Doom
Ella walked with her hands in her pockets, the sound of crashing waterfalls like music in her ears. The warm light of the midday sun formed deep shadows in the crevices of the two dragon statues that framed the archway before her. There was a time when the two carved dragons atop the balustrades of The Gilded Dragon had been the greatest work of craftsmanship Ella had ever laid eyes on. And now they were mere trinkets compared to the statues before her that looked almost alive, the erinian stone glowing with an otherworldly light.
But no matter the beauty before her eyes, her mind would not shift from thoughts of her mam. She had lain awake each night, going over everything Fenryr had said again and again. All those years, her mam had been a druid. Her mam had lied to her, poured poison down her throat. The woman she had trusted with every fibre of her soul had lied to her from the day she’d been born.
Faenir gave a low rumble, his shoulder pressing against Ella’s arm. The wolfpine had been her shadow ever since she’d woken, never letting her out of his sight. Even then his hackles rose at every elf who came within a few feet.
Three Fenryr Angan stalked the shadows behind her, keeping their distance but never letting her stray too far. That had been the way in the days since waking.
“These are dangerous times, young one,” Fenryr had said.
As she passed beneath the arch, Ella looked up to see a sprawling relief carved into the stone, impossibly delicate and beautiful with a level of detail she would only have thought possible with charcoal or a brush.
She carried on, stepping into the basin that the elves called Tahír un Ilyien? – the Garden of Remembrance. She preferred the name in the Old Tongue. The word ‘garden’ could not have been less suited to the place in which Ella now stood.
Five waterfalls flowed over the edge of the basin, cutting through circular stone terraces that looked down over an enormous central yard. The waterfalls fed into streams and onwards into a moat that surrounded a stone island in the basin’s centre, where five statues stood at least ten times as tall as Ella.
At the centre of it all was the tallest and largest tree Ella had ever seen in her life. Its thick trunk climbed upwards from the middle of the island, branches coiling about one another like snakes, sprawling outwards. Vines dangled, blooming with flowers of white and luminescent purple. The great tree’s canopy covered two thirds of the sky, strands of warm orange and pale pink piercing through.
Many elves sat in the terraces, their legs folded beneath them, eyes closed. Some walked about the base of the tree, others sat with their feet in the streams.
She crossed the white stone bridge nearest to her, walking between the statues of the human and the elf. She stopped before the base of the tree and looked up at the glowing purple canopy. She could feel something emanating from the tree, like a heartbeat or a soul. She wasn’t sure if she or the wolf within her could feel it, but it was there nonetheless. This tree had a connection to the Sea of Spirits. It calmed her. As she stared up at the tree’s canopy, Ella could have sworn she could hear her mother’s voice echoing.
“You are Ella Bryer.” The voice that spoke was soft and delicate.
Ella lowered her gaze to find an elf in a light blue dress standing a few feet to her left. Ella gasped as her stare found its way to the elf’s eyes. Her irises were black as jet, surrounded by a ring of pale red. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”
“It’s all right. You’re not the first, and you won’t be the last.” She gave Ella a weak smile that held a deep sadness. “My name is Aruni Enathrea. It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“You know who I am?”
“Ah, apologies. Your brothers, they spoke of you often, particularly Calen. He’s a lovely boy.” Aruni reached up and brushed a strand of blonde hair from her face, her sleeve pulling back to reveal raw wounds on the elf’s wrists, scabs old and new forming a ring around her forearm. “My Valdrin admires him quite a bit.”
Ella had been heartbroken to find that both Haem and Calen were not in the city when she had woken. Though the others insisted they would be back, it did little to quell the anger within her at Calen for leaving so soon after she’d finally found him. But Haem… She would have given the moon and the stars to have Haem beside her at that moment.
She couldn’t help but feel as though she’d imagined him. He’d been dead for years, and then he’d just been standing there before her, alive. How could it have been possible? Surely it had been some sort of trick? Her big brother was alive.
“What brings you to the Ilyien??” Aruni looked up at the godlike tree that stood over them.
“I needed a place to think.” Ella had spent the days since waking doing exactly that, saying very little to anyone. There had been so much to think on, so much to process. It had been clear that all Tanner and Yana had wanted to do was ask her a thousand questions, but both had left her be, something for which she was very thankful. “I heard of what this place is, what this tree is. Is it true that the bodies of those killed in the battle lie in the ground beneath it?”
Aruni nodded softly.
“So much death…”
“Life and death are part of the same circle. We return our dead to the earth so that they may bring life. The Ilyien? is a sacred thing to my people. It is said that each flower is a soul that touches the tree, attempting to call home. The greater the loss, the larger the tree. This place is a conduit that bridges this world and the others. A place where we can be closer to everything we’ve lost.”
“Is that why you’ve come here?”
“In a way.” Aruni ran her fingers over her chest, tracing something beneath her dress. “I was born in a woodland to the far north, along the Lightning Coast. My people were few, and so we lived in peace for many centuries after The Fall. But some years ago, the Lorians found us. They slaughtered many and took the rest of us captive. I…” Aruni’s hand trembled, and she picked at the scabs on her wrist, blood trickling. “The things that were done in that place… I do not know if the ones I loved ever found Heraya’s embrace. At least here, I feel like I can, in some way, be close to them again. And with Valdrin gone, it’s nice to feel close.”
“I understand that.”
“Did you lose someone?”
Ella nodded softly. “My Ayar Elwyn… my mam and dad. I never got a chance to say goodbye…”
“It is not an easy thing,” Aruni said, “to lose the ones you always turned to for safety. It sets the world out of balance.”
Ella paused a moment. “Your son, would you ever lie to him?”
Ella regretted the question the moment it left her lips. She didn’t know this elf. She had no right to push her sorrow onto Aruni.
Aruni turned her black eyes from the tree and stared into Ella’s. This time Ella didn’t gasp or flinch. She found sorrow and loss and loneliness in Aruni’s eyes. “Valdrin is not my son.”
“I’m sorry,” Ella said, suddenly feeling ashamed. “I just… The way you said his name, I just…”
Aruni shook her head. “He is not my son by blood, but he is mine. We are bonded.” Aruni let out a soft sigh. “Lies are a strange thing. What they are changes with what we need. They are necessary. They are evil. They are white. They are black. A lie is what we are willing to accept. Would I lie to Valdrin in order to keep him safe? Yes, I think I would. Because I am willing to become the thing he hates as long as it means I have kept him safe and warm and loved. That is my task as a mother. I hope he loves me. I hope he thinks the world of me, because if he didn’t, it would break my heart. And yet, as a mother, I’m willing for my heart to be broken to ensure his is whole.”
Ella pressed her tongue against the back of her bottom teeth and stared up at the glowing flowers that dangled on the vines. Part of her wanted to stop the conversation there, but the grief within her took over. “Would you lie to him his whole life? Would you lie about who he was? About who you are? About everything?”
A hand rested on Ella’s shoulder, and Aruni’s soft voice sounded once again. “Did your mother love you?”
“I don’t know anymore. Did she? How am I meant to know if she is willing to lie to me about everything?”
“You hold your mother to such high standards, and yet you lie to me with ease.”
“I didn’t lie.”
“And you lie to yourself, too. If you didn’t know your mother loved you, you wouldn’t be so angry. She loved you dearly, that’s why it hurts.”
That cracked Ella, cracked her heart, cracked her soul. The wolf within her whimpered. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this. I don’t even know you.”
“Sometimes opening our hearts to strangers is far easier than doing so with the people who know us. There is no risk. We are free to be honest where we may not always be. That and I have a way with people.” Aruni reached over and scratched Faenir’s chin with her right hand, stroking his head with her left.
The wolfpine moved forwards and licked her face from chin to forehead, unapologetically.
“Oh, gods. He’s wonderful.”
Faenir had gotten so large that Aruni barely had to bend over to look into his eyes. A deep, protective instinct drifted from Faenir to Ella. He leaned forwards and nuzzled the side of Aruni’s cheek.
“He’s not normally this trusting of strangers.”
“Those who have suffered have a way of finding each other.” Aruni scratched at Faenir’s ear, then stood back to her full height. “Ella, I would sincerely like if you joined me for some tea. Not now, but whenever you are ready. Therin can bring you. I’ll ask him. That is, if you would like to?”
“I would. Not Arlen Root tea, no?”
Aruni shook her head. She placed her hand on the trunk of the tree. “I’ve been drinking a lot of Tarveenan Starlet tea these past weeks. It was a favourite of a friend of mine. I think you’ll like it.” She turned back to Ella. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Ella Bryer. And please know this – to be a mother is a difficult thing. Balancing the scales of protecting the ones you love and allowing them the room to grow will always be a precarious task, so do not judge too harshly.”
Aruni gave Ella a soft smile, then left.
Ella watched the woman leave before returning to the reason she had come here in the first place. She turned to the tree and rested her hand on the trunk, closing her eyes. As soon as she did, a growl resonated beside her.
She opened her eyes to find Faenir glaring at her with hackles raised and snout crinkled.
“What?”
The wolfpine continued to growl, lowering his head.
“I need to know.” Ella closed her eyes once more. She called to the wolf within her, howling. For a moment there was silence, until the wolf howled back and the world shifted.
Unlike the previous times she had entered Níthianelle, the world was not a vast empty darkness. She stood in the Tahír un Ilyien?, the sound of the waterfalls crashing around her. The elves were gone, as was Faenir, but the three Angan who had followed her remained, their bodies wisping grey and black smoke. Two of the creatures stared at her, while the other folded itself to the ground to sit.
Ella turned away from the Angan and stared up at the Ilyien? tree. In the Sea of Spirits, the tree’s leaves glowed in a multitude of colours: purples, reds, greens, blues, yellows. It was a rainbow of pulsating colour in a world dominated by cold ethereal light.
She lifted her hand and placed it on the trunk, white mist trailing. “Mam?”
Branches and flowers rustled overhead, Ella’s heart beating in her ears.
“Mam, please. I know you can hear me. I know you’re there.”
Silence.
Anger bubbled within her. “Please… please, just answer me.”
For a brief moment, Ella thought she heard a voice, a whisper on the wind, and the wolf in her blood snapped its jaws, growling.
“You idiot child!”
Ella’s heart stopped at the sound of Fenryr’s voice, deep and rasping.
A hulking shape shrouded in black and gold smoke marched across the stone island and grabbed her by the collar. Fenryr yanked her away from the tree, his golden eyes bright and gleaming.
“Leave this place!”
Fenryr shoved Ella backwards. The world exploded in a swirl of mist and smoke, colours spiralling. Everything collapsed inwards, and Ella hit the ground, the light of the waking world flooding back into her eyes. She sat on the ground before the Ilyien?, Faenir at her side with his hackles raised and teeth bared.
Fenryr stood over her, golden eyes glaring.
Ella’s heart raced, her stare moving from Fenryr to the three Angan, who now stood around her, and to the elves who had gathered on the island and the bridges connected to it.
“Silence.” Fenryr raised a finger to the snarling wolfpine, and Faenir whimpered.
The god stepped past Faenir and lifted Ella to her feet as he might a feather. She didn’t argue as Fenryr placed a hand on her back and guided her from the Tahír un Ilyien?, leaving the elves watching.
He spoke only once he’d led her up through a winding path to an empty plateau that overlooked a section of the city. “What did you think you were doing?”
“I needed to know… I…”
“After what you have already been through, how can you be so senseless? You know nothing of Níthianelle. When you told me you needed time, young one, I respected it. But this? Are you really so arrogant and naive both?” Fenryr turned away, shaking his head.
“I needed to know if my mother is alive. I heard her… in Níthianelle. I heard her voice. I…”
Fenryr tilted his head back and exhaled slowly. “Your mother no longer walks the mortal plane. That I can assure you. But when you call out in the Sea of Spirits, there are other things that might answer. You must be more careful, lest you betray us all.”
A hole formed in Ella’s chest where her heart had been. “I heard her… I heard her voice.”
Fenryr’s eyes softened, the tension leaving him. “There is so much you do not know, my child. A world you have not seen. I will show it to you, and I will explain everything. But I need you to promise me that you will not attempt to cross back into Níthianelle without my guidance. You were Fragmented, and the tether between your body and soul is weak. It needs time to mend. I need you to have patience. Can you do that?”
Ella wanted to argue, wanted to roar and scream and tell him to go and fuck himself. But she didn’t. This was a god, a true god, formed in flesh and blood before her. And every moment she was around him she was forced to fight the compulsion to kneel.
“Yes.”
Fenryr let out a sigh. “There are those who would twist and chain us, those who would open our throats and drink our blood as it spilled. We must not make it easy for them. Go and rest. Diango, Aneera, Nuada, and Sennik will escort you.”
The three Angan who had followed Ella stood on the far side of the plateau. They were joined by a man with wavy black hair down to his shoulders and a long green cloak. An Aldruid, a Blooddancer. Just like Ella. He had introduced himself the day Ella had awoken, he and four others. All Aldruids – the last Aldruids of Fenryr’s blood. An enormous black wolf lay on the ground beside him. Sennik’s keeper, Balmyras. The creature was larger than even Faenir, with deep golden eyes.
“I don’t need an escort.”
“I will not force them on you if you do not wish. But you are their family, and they worry for you, whether you believe it or not.”
Ella glanced over at the Angan, who now knelt with their heads bowed. Sennik stood with his hands behind his back, his stare fixed on something in the city. His keeper, though, watched Ella intensely, ears pricked.
“Fine.”
Sennik, Balmyras, and the three Angan walked with Ella and Faenir through the streets of Aravell and back towards Alura. They drew more than a few eyes as they went, but Ella was used to it. They were staring at Faenir – and now Balmyras. She, too, would stare if she saw a wolfpine that rivalled a small horse for size.
“How are you feeling?” The words were the first Sennik had spoken to her since their introduction. The silence, though, had mostly been Ella’s doing.
“Bright as a sunflower.” Ella kept her gaze ahead as she spoke, watching two elves wheel a cart full of terracotta vases down the street, smiling at each other like children.
“My favourite colour is blue.”
“What?” Ella shook her head and stared at Sennik.
“There are eighteen of us alive who have Fenryr’s blood in our veins, and two of those are my sisters. I would like to know you, and if you insist on being as abrasive as a whetstone, then it is up to me to bridge the gap. So, my favourite colour is blue. My mother used to dress in blue all the time before she died. I think that’s why. I can’t remember her face, no matter how hard I try. I was only four when the Vethnir hunters took her.”
Ella frowned at the man but eventually yielded. “Mine is purple. My mam used to grow lavender outside our home. The smell always reminds me of her.”
“Lavender, you say? Of course.”
“Why ‘of course’?”
“Lavender is particularly calming to our kind, and it masks our scent. We keep lavender in all the dens around the continent. It makes life difficult for the Vethnir hunters and the Bjorna. It’s not from Epheria, you know? It comes from Terroncia, specially grown by the Woodhearts – a Gift long lost. It blends with the scent of the Fenryr and creates something only our kind can smell. Your mother was a smart woman.”
“That she was. She was many things.”
“Aren’t we all, Ella Bryer. Aren’t we all.”