Episode 192 Be the Light
Be the Light
“I fear you’ll wear a hole in my rug, El,” Pera says with a half-smile as Elowyn turns to walk the same path between the door and the window in his study that she’s traversed repeatedly since Tharios and Cerian left.
With a groan, she drops to the sofa beside Arisanna. How can Arisanna be so calm? So patient? Especially with Cerian gone.
It’s probably a good thing they all have different strengths.
Mother looks up from Pera’s desk, where she’s been sorting and re-sorting the same stack of papers for an hour.
At least Elowyn isn’t the only one who gets fidgety with the waiting. How did Mother survive twenty years of waiting?
“They’re returning,” Mother says. “I sense their magic moving this way.”
Elowyn launches toward the door, but Rominy wraps an arm around her and pulls her to his chest. “Perhaps we don’t ambush them, love. Let them come to us. They’re probably still processing whatever they learned.”
“Patience, my wildling,” Pera says softly, and Elowyn melts a little at the endearment.
They’re probably right.
She lowers herself to the sofa again, and it doesn’t take long for the door to open, though it feels like hours.
Everyone stands as Tharios shuffles into the room with Viala at his side. Cerian follows, along with Rafelis and Deridyn. Corivos isn’t far behind.
Cerian immediately draws Arisanna to his chest, but it’s Tharios who claims Elowyn’s attention.
He looks serious. Far too serious.
Pera sighs. “I’d ask if you’re all right, but I can see for myself that you aren’t. What happened?”
“He told me everything,” Tharios says in the quietest voice imaginable. “I don’t know how he faces each day. The burdens he carries. The memories. He says he isn’t strong, but he’s still standing. Somehow, he’s still standing.”
“It was a difficult account to listen to,” Rafelis adds, his face as serious as Tharios’s.
“I can barely process the implications of what he told us,” Tharios says. “I still can’t get over the way she died.”
“He really did tell you everything,” Pera says gently. “I am sorry you had to bear this burden. I would have spared you.”
“No. It had to be me. I needed to hear every word. To understand.”
“And what do you understand now, my elfling?” Mother asks as she lays a hand on his cheek.
“That the battle you fought isn’t over. That we fight every day for the ideals we profess. That I am not immune to judging without knowing. And now that I know, I...I let Valethan go, Father.”
Elowyn stares at Tharios. He let Valethan go?
“You dropped the charges against him?” Pera asks as his brows knit. “Because you felt sorry for him?”
“Because it was the right thing to do.”
“Tharios reminded me of you, Lorial,” Deridyn says. “Choosing mercy over vengeance. You would have been proud.”
“I am proud. And I will take your word for it that this was the right course of action. But where do we go from here?”
“I don’t know,” Tharios says. “I wish I did. Valethan believes Fenoral will find a sympathetic audience in Celesta. He says prejudice is alive and well among certain corners of Lostarien society, and from the story he told us, I believe him.”
“As much as I hate to say it, I’m hardly surprised,” Mother says.
“We will just have to keep our guard up,” Pera says. “Which we knew already. Did Valethan offer any specifics?”
“His parents are reprehensible,” Tharios says. “His father should be stripped of his healing certification, but beyond that, Valethan couldn’t offer any details. His only goal was to get Fenoral out of his house before anyone discovered his daughter.”
Pera sighs before turning to Corivos. “I want the guards we stationed around Valethan’s cabin to remain should Valethan and his daughter need protecting.”
Corivos nods. “Understood.”
“I don’t know what we’ll face in Celesta, but face it, we will,” Pera continues as he addresses the rest of them. “And we’ll face it together.” He finds Rominy standing beside Elowyn. “If you wish to return to Nunia, I understand. I’ll escort you myself.”
Elowyn’s stomach clenches at Pera’s words. Go back to Nunia? Now?
“This is my family being threatened,” Rominy says quietly. “I won’t abandon you.”
Oh, thank the fates.
Elowyn wraps herself around Rominy. “Thank you.”
“I guessed that would be your answer,” Pera says. “But I had to offer.”
“We’ll leave at daybreak tomorrow as planned,” Mother says. “And we won’t let down our guard.”
“I hate to put you on the spot, Rafelis,” Pera says. “But I need to know your decision. If you wish to take a temporary leave of absence from my personal warrior band to remain with Averyn and Nestial as we discussed, you have my blessing.”
All eyes turn to Rafelis, and Rafelis glances at Deridyn before meeting Tharios’s gaze.
Then he returns his attention to Pera. “Someone needs to protect Darlei. And Valethan needs to see that we care. I have offered him my protection, and I mean to keep that promise. With your permission, I will remain behind and hold down the fort, as humans say.”
Pera nods. “You have it. Corivos, you’re with us. Ensure Rafelis is ready to step into your place here in Darlei before we depart.”
A light smile fills Corivos’s face. “I’m relatively certain Rafelis could already step into my place with a moment’s notice. Aside from the record-keeping, that is. He seems to struggle with that.”
Rafelis chuckles. “I’ll do my best.”
“You’ll do fine,” Mother says. “If I managed it, you can, too.”
Grandmera steps out of the corner, where she’s been quietly observing their conversation. “It is time for lunch. I’m sure Arisanna will concur that you must all eat, and she and I are not women to be trifled with.”
Arisanna looks a little horrified, but Cerian’s mouth turns up in a grin, and Rominy laughs beside her.
“Food is important,” Arisanna mumbles. “And some of you barely touched your breakfast.”
Even Mother and Pera chuckle at her words.
“I know better than to argue with that,” Pera says. “Let’s find our lunch. We can discuss the details of our departure over whatever Cook has prepared. And she doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
As everyone shuffles toward the door, Elowyn wraps her arms around Rominy again. “Thank you.”
“It’s not a hardship to love you, El. Come on. Let’s see how many people I can horrify by piling my food in a heap on my plate.”
Elowyn smiles as she takes his hand, and they follow the others from the room.
Tharios does his best to be present in the conversations surrounding him as they consume the food Cook provided.
He barely touches his lunch, but no one says anything.
After the meal ends, Viala takes his hand and leads him back to their chamber. He doesn’t argue or resist, and when she draws him to their bed with his head against her chest, he clings to her.
“Feel everything you need to feel, my love,” she says. “Speak the words you need to speak. Let me share this burden.”
He blinks a few times as his emotions hover dangerously near the surface, but he’s a healer. He faces difficult truths all the time.
Rarely does it feel so personal.
“Valethan’s elfling is motherless because a healer chose not to help her,” Tharios whispers. “A conscious decision to let her die. I knew there was evil in this world, but this...”
Viala brushes back Tharios’s hair, and her touch soothes him. “There is good, too, is there not? You must have seen something good in Valethan to let him go.”
“I saw an elf who could have grown just as evil as those who took so much from him. Instead, he became the opposite. He’s still hurting.
Still broken. But he still cares. He still has a heart.
” Tharios looks into Viala’s eyes. “I hope you don’t feel betrayed by my decision to let him go.
He...he didn’t wish to hurt you. Either of you.
He was as careful as he could be while trying to protect his own elfling.
I wish he would have talked to us instead of running, but I understand why he did what he did. ”
“Tharios. My love. Put this worry from your mind. I trust you completely.”
Relief fills him at her words.
For a while, she holds him as he talks. He shares some things. Not all. But enough to lessen the burden of carrying it alone.
And he feels like he might survive.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, all right?” Viala finally says. “Some of this watering your eyes have been doing has smeared the korathite down your cheeks.”
He chuckles. “Cook must have hidden some onions in our chamber.”
“I’m sure that’s it. Come on. I think a bath is in order.”
“A bath to clean my face?” He grins at her, and she lifts a brow.
“I was going to offer to join you, but if you’d prefer a washcloth—”
“No, no. A bath sounds perfect.” He takes a deep breath and slowly exhales. “Thank you. This is exactly what I needed.”
“I know, elf prince. The world may seem dark now, but I promise there is light. And if we can’t find it, we’ll create it ourselves.”
Create it themselves. Be the light.
He can do that.
At least, he’s willing to try.