Chapter 13 Reflection #2
Rahven did as the voice instructed. One by one, he tested the magical bindings.
The voice was right. He should have acted.
Not to kill Vulre, but to leave. He should have left long ago when it became clear that Vulre had it out for him.
He definitely should have left after the first fight no matter what Lady Ashryn said.
But that was the past. This was the present. He needed to save himself now.
“You never should have kept him!” Vulre roared, practically frothing at the mouth. “Look what he did! He’s uncontrollable! He–”
“Why?” She asked.
“W-what?” Vulre stammered before going back to straining and grunting to get to Rahven.
“Why did Rahven do this?” Her voice was strangely colorless.
“As if he needs a reason considering who his father is?!” Vulre laughed bitterly. “You know–”
“His father always has a reason for killing someone. And it is likely a good reason,” she said, still in that colorless way. “So why did Rahven’s magic Awaken? What happened, Vulre?”
Why isn’t she asking you, I wonder? The voice mused.
Because she already knows the answer, Rahven realized even as he found the loose binding. Or rather, it was looser than the others. He started to pluck at it. She wants to see if he will lie to her.
Good to see you’re not stopping in your escape plan even if that is the case. I assure you that Lady Ashryn Zinsadoral cannot be trusted, the voice dropped into a low growl.
“Vulre, answer me.” Ashryn was standing in front of Vulre then. Her voice was low. Even.
“He needs to die!” Vulre shouted.
“Did you try to give him that deserved death?” Her voice was soft. Dangerous.
Vulre must have heard it, too. His expression became pleading and his voice strained with loyalty and adoration, “Lady Ashryn, I serve you! With my heart and soul! With all I am! He is a danger to you, to me, to everyone! If we are found out–”
“We have been, Vulre,” she whispered.
“What?” A breath. Little more than that. One single breath from Vulre and he was still as stone.
In contrast, Rahven was still working to free himself. The binding began to loosen more. Rahven was hardly listening to what they were saying. His whole concentration was on getting out of there. If he had been thinking about it, he would have had so many questions.
“Rahven’s Awakening. It didn’t just wound the Venomthorn. It was felt at the palace,” Ashryn said.
“No,” another burst of breath from Vulre.
“So we must fly or be killed,” she said. “What will you do, Vulre? Will you come with me–with my son and I–or should I leave you here to face your fate?”
My son? That got through Rahven’s mental defenses and he stopped moving just as the binding started to unwind. He could not be hearing this correctly. He was jadir. He was… My son?
“I serve you, my lady,” Vulre said. “I serve you.”
“That means you die for me… and him.” She tipped her head back towards Rahven.
My son?
“I…”
“Your life is already forfeit for what you’ve done,” Ashryn told him. “I will know if you lie. So what is it to be?”
“I…” Vulre looked down. His teeth ground against each other almost audibly.
My son? My son? My son? My son?
“I will give my life for him,” Vulre finally swore.
“On your soul. Swear it. Swear it, Vulre!” She shouted.
“I swear I will protect your son with my life, my lady!” Vulre shouted as the binding around him gave way and he landed on the ground.
Rahven was already free. Standing there. Staring.
“Then move, Vulre,” she commanded. “We are likely already too late.”
My son, the voice whispered.
Eryas Palace, Tyrael, Earth, Present Day…
“... Glom will not be pooping in the Sun King’s bathroom, Snaglak, no matter how much more efficient that would be for you to fish out the fangs,” Michael’s voice was firm. It was the tone he used with his bombastic enemies and, evidently, recalcitrant orcs.
“Awww, but then where poop?” Snaglak sounded aggrieved.
“In the garden,” Shonda answered. “Preferably, in the fertilizer section, Snaglak, and not on a garden path.”
“Long walk,” Snaglak grumped. “Glom poop loads.”
“Yes, well, that is what happens when you feed him Leviathan fangs by the dozens,” Finley said goodnaturedly.
“Glad I require him to exchange the fangs for gold before I sell him beer and food,” Helgrom grunted.
“The fangs are rather fragrant after they are expelled,” Rhalyf remarked dryly.
“Let’s just hope that he washes his hands after he finishes that transaction,” Gemma added, which had Rhalyf chuckling and Shonda making a tsking sound in the back of her throat.
“Yes,” Snaglak lied merrily then added, “Sometimes. If water nearby.”
“Oh, my, I didn’t need that information, Snaglak,” Shonda said with a weak laugh.
“Now I’m thinking of all those times you’ve snatched some of my lunch from my plate,” Finley made a gagging sound.
“Well, you can clean those hands this time after you get the fangs,” Shonda ordered.
“Don’t wanna leave big boss,” Snaglak sighed sadly.
“You’re to do what Michael, Shonda and Finley say when I’m not around, Snaglak,” Declan managed to get out.
His voice sounded hoarse and he had to swallow a bunch of times to get all the words out. His throat hurt. A memory of Vulre’s arm tightening around it or from something else?
“Declan?!” Michael cried and Declan felt a strong hand stroke his left arm.
“Baby, it’s okay. We’re all here,” Shonda told him and he felt her hand on his other arm.
“Declan!” Gemma burst out and there were sudden tears in her voice. “You’re–you’re awake. But your eyes aren’t open.”
They weren’t. He was having a hard time opening them. He was having a hard time doing anything.
“Are you in pain?” Finley asked, concerned, but efficient. “Rhalyf, what should we do?”
“Well… this isn’t exactly a science,” Rhalyf cleared his throat. “I’ve only removed a binding like this once. On Declan. So, in fact, I’m not certain that anyone, but me, has ever done this. Declan, how do you feel?”
“Like a Mack truck ran over me then reversed and ran over me again,” Declan admitted.
His whole body hurt. It was as if he had been trapped in a vise and someone had been tightening it until his bones creaked.
He was released from it now, but it still felt like his body was re-inflating somehow.
What had happened to him? Was there a fight?
What was Rhalyf talking about when he said “binding”?
“Can you open your eyes, Declan?” Finley asked.
“Will they be red?” Gemma asked softly.
Red? Why would my eyes be red? Unless… Ah, binding. He removed it.
“Yes, they will be,” Rhalyf answered evenly. “I will not put any spell on him–even a mild glamour–for a day at least.”
The glamour is gone. I look like… myself.
Declan tried to remember his true looks. But even though he had dreamed far more clearly of his time as Rahven in the Under Dark, he had no memory of his face. Besides, his face then would have been that of a child. Not his face now. Would he still look the same, but for white hair and red eyes?
What will Aquilan think of me then?
And it was in that moment that he realized the one voice he had not heard in that room. The Sun King’s. While he had not expected Elasha or Darcassan’s, he had hoped that Aquilan would be there.
Because I’m unwell… I… something… something happened…
The memory of the magic leaving him. Re-Awakening. Destroying the Leviathan nest as if it was tissue paper.
I did that. And maybe more besides. Until my magic and my true looks were bound. Maybe because I was too dangerous to leave unbound.
Yet the thought of another spell being placed upon him, squeezing him, made Declan want to vomit.
He shuddered. Slowly, he tried to open his eyelids.
It felt like they were sealed shut with sticky tape.
He reached up and rubbed them. Finally, he was able to open them, but he immediately squeezed them shut.
“Too bright!” he cried.
“But it’s just a single wisp,” Gemma sounded agonized. “I didn’t think it would hurt–”
“It’s not your fault, honey. He’s just really light sensitive right now,” Shonda soothed her daughter.
“It’s okay, Gemma,” Declan got out. “Just give me a minute and I’ll be able to handle it.”
“If you’re sure,” Gemma said softly.
“I’m sure. Just a minute.”
Declan rolled over onto his side, burying his head in the soft pillows. He opened his eyes fully against them. Darkness. Blessed darkness. He could see the faintest outline of light at the edges where his skin and the pillow met.
“Sunglasses? Do we have them?” Finley suddenly asked.
“I would spell him, but, again, that would not be wise,” Rhalyf said.
“No spells!” Declan hadn’t meant to shout. “Please. No spells. I need to get used to the light.”
He lifted his head millimeter by millimeter from the pillow. The golden light from the single wisp that Gemma held almost lovingly on her palm was the only light in the room. He was in the Eryas Palace. From the size and grandeur of this bed…
“Is this Aquilan’s bedroom?” He asked as he shaded his eyes and glanced around.
“It is and he was right by your side until a moment ago,” Shonda said as she gently stroked his back.
“Vesslan needed him,” Michael said dryly. “For something. He didn’t say, did he?”
So he did not abandon me upon seeing proof I am the Night Prince. And what about everyone else? What will they think of me?
Hesitantly, Declan turned around to face everyone in the room.
Michael and Shonda were sitting on the edge of the bed together.
There were tears in Shonda’s eyes and Michael looked like he had been holding himself together for some time.
Gemma’s eyes were huge as they stared at his face, gaze flickering all over it as if to be certain it was really him.
Helgrom was smoking his pipe by the fireplace where some low embers gleamed. Snaglak stood opposite him with Glom sprawled out between them, farting and snoring softly. The naki needed to be taken to the garden soon or fangs would be spraying from his backend any moment now.
Rhalyf was seated in an armchair within easy reach of him.
His glamour was firmly in place and Declan wondered if he intended to tell anyone he was a Night Elf too.
And then there was Finley. His best friend was, in fact, behind him, on the opposite side of the bed.
He had a hand on Declan’s shoulder. Declan blinked rapidly as his eyes strove to get used to even that single wisp and faint firelight.
“You’re all here,” he found himself saying.
“Of course, we are, sweetheart,” Shonda said as she reached over and touched his nearest hand.
“We wouldn’t be anywhere else,” Michael assured him.
“It’s still me, Gem,” Declan said, shortening her name in a way that only he did.
Gemma swallowed hard, but she was smiling through tears. “I know. It’s weird, but you look like…”
“Like what?” he asked.
“Like what I remember,” she murmured.
He closed his eyes for a moment. She was thinking about the war.
“I remember peeking out when you were fighting and… and I remember,” she whispered. “You look like that. Like… you. Our protector.”
Declan’s throat felt tight. Protector. Not monster.
Protector. That was all he needed to hear.
He opened his eyes and found himself meeting Rhalyf’s gaze.
The other Night Elf’s shoulders looked more relaxed than before.
He doubted most people would have noticed there was any tension in Rhalyf’s seemingly languid sprawl.
But there was. He was an excellent actor.
“I think I’d like to see myself. I don’t remember…” Declan reached up and drew a hand down his own face. “I don’t remember what I look like. I don’t remember much.”
“We know, honey,” Shonda assured him. “Aquilan, Finley and Rhalyf explained things to us.”
“As much as we know,” Finley added.
Declan nodded and slid his legs off of the bed. His boots had been taken off. He wriggled his toes against the warm wood. Finley offered him a hand up. He gratefully took it and even accepted Finley’s offer to put his arm over the smaller man’s shoulder. They hobbled towards the bathroom together.
“How do I look?” Declan asked softly.
“Ugly as always,” Finley assured him with a smile.
“Great. That’s what I wanted to hear,” Declan grinned.
“You… you look like you, Declan. It’s still you,” Finley told him firmly. “And everyone sees that and knows it.”
Declan nodded again. They were at the door to the bathroom. He could see a massive two-basin sink with an even more massive mirror above it. He didn’t look at his reflection. Not yet.
“Do you want me to come in with you?” Finley asked.
This time Declan shook his head. “I need a minute to…”
“I understand,” Finley said.
Declan tottered inside of the bathroom. He rested his hands on the cool stone basin and stared down into its depths. There was very little light in here. But he didn’t need it. He could see clearly. He thought about washing his face. He would do that.
In a minute.
He looked up at himself in the mirror.
Red eyes.
White hair.
Pointed ears that poked through that hair.
Elf.
But still him.
Still…
He looked deeper into the mirror.
Father?
There was a beat and then softly, My Rahven. My son.