* * *
Nelyn wandered the camp in a solitary mood. Several days had passed since Jarown’s confession. She attended briefings, but always her mind lay elsewhere. On a few occasions Nelyn lashed out at people for the most minor infractions, some which included not airing their bedding or laughing while performing their duties.
“Nelyn,” said Jarown as he approached her.
“Go away,” she replied.
“Nelyn, please,” pleaded Jarown. “I am still your father.”
“My father?” Nelyn closed the distance between them. “You are not my father. You killed him remember?”
“Nelyn.”
“Get away from me. You are dead to me.”
From beneath a tree Idæas observed their interaction. He watched as Jarown walked away, shoulders slumped in disappointment. His demeanor displayed the hurt Nelyn had caused him. Nelyn snatched a bucket with such force that it swung violently in her hands. She headed for the lake. Idæas followed.
Without warning, he tossed a sword at her and yelled, “Defend yourself!” Idæas charged her forcing her to react. The bucket plopped on the ground as Nelyn dropped it and grabbed the sword thrown at her. They sparred for a bit before the elf disarmed her. “You fight like you have never held a sword before. Try again.”
Within moments, Idæas disarmed her again. Enraged, Nelyn picked up her blade and charged. With a flick of his wrist, the elf knocked her weapon from her hands.
“You cannot fight when you are angry,” he said.
“It has gotten me this far,” Nelyn spat.
Idæas pointed at her sword, which now lay on the ground. “Your emotions make your skills useless. Your anger, your depression, you must detach yourself from them. They have ruined you.”
“You elves think you know so much. My anger is my own. It is all I have left.”
“You think you are the first to be betrayed by one you love? You are young, Nelyn, and have much to learn. “
“And I suppose you plan to enlighten me?”
“I already have.”
“Leave me alone.”
“For centuries I have seen how men treat each other. They love. They betray. They commit some of the most heinous acts. But despite their faults, your race is capable of some of the greatest acts of compassion. One being forgiveness. Which act are you capable of?”
“And what would you teach me?”
Idæas held his sword in the air. “How to turn it into something useful. Think about it.”
“What do you mean?” asked Nelyn.
“I don’t think you’re disciplined enough to learn.” Idæas’ remark had the desired effect.
“I will prove to you that I am disciplined,” said Nelyn rising to the challenge.
“Really? Tomorrow. At dawn.” Idæas walked away leaving Nelyn alone with her thoughts.
Nelyn stared at the gentle water of the lake. She watched as the light danced on the water’s glassy surface.
“You are angered,” said a male voice.
Nelyn jerked her head in its direction. The unicorn stood several feet away. “So it wasn’t a dream.”
“Why would you think it was?”
Nelyn said nothing.
“You are angered.”
“Why are you here?” asked Nelyn.
“I appear when you need me most,” replied the unicorn. “Such it was with your mother. So it is with you.”
“But I never saved your life.”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you save my mother when she needed you most?”
“I was there,” said the unicorn. “But no one can save a person who chooses death. Your mother’s only thoughts were of you. And so just as I was once your mother’s guardian, I am now yours. And so long as you have that necklace I will find you.”
Vague memories of her parents’ murder filled her mind. Though hazy, the dam that had blocked them broke with Jarown’s confession. “Why were you not there when I was alone in the cabin?”
“I told you. I only appear when you need me most. At that time, you had Jarown. Thus far, in all of you troubled times, you have had Jarown.”
“And why are you here now?” asked Nelyn.
“I come with a warning,” said the unicorn, “Abandon your bitterness before it consumes you.” Once again the unicorn pointed his horn at her heart. “Keep it pure.”
Confused, Nelyn absorbed his words. “Thank you,” she said. “For saving Tesnayr.”
“It was decreed that I should.”
At that moment the cry of the phoenix sounded. Nelyn did not recognize it and passed it off as the nightly sounds of the mountains. “Decreed? What do you mean?”
“Any other questions?” asked the unicorn refusing to answer her inquiry.
“Do you have a name?”
“Banis.”
Nelyn left Banis and returned to the camp with her bucket of water sloshing beside her. Many thoughts plagued her mind and she needed time to think.
Crickets filled the air. They chirped too cheerily for the unicorn’s taste. “I know you are there. I can smell you.”
Quesha stepped out from behind some brush.
“What are you doing here?”
“My mistress sent me,” replied Quesha.
“Your mistress does much for her own ends. One day, you will be a sorceress. Do not neglect your duty to this world, or you will live an eternity of misery.”
“Is that all?” asked Quesha.
“I have a message for your mistress. Tell her, to forget about herself.”
“I do not understand it.”
“That is because the message is not for you,” replied the unicorn. “Now go.”
Knowing the futility of arguing with a unicorn, Quesha wrapped her cloak around her and disappeared into thin air.
Vapor escaped Banis’ nostrils as he snorted into the chill air. Gradually, he trotted away allowing the shadows to consume him.
Jarown sat upon a boulder staring at the stars in the crystal clear night. His heavy heart ached for what he had been forced to tell Nelyn. For years he had avoided it, but fate had another plan. “I have failed you, Selnik,” he said to the night air, “I have caused Nelyn unnecessary hurt.” All the while, he remained unaware of the phoenix listening to him.
The next morning, Idæas bent down to pick up his saddlebags when a sword crashed into the tree above his head.
“Arm yourself,” said Nelyn.
The elf stood up and faced the woman who had already drawn her weapon. Idæas pulled the sword out of the tree bark and held it before him in a defensive posture. He attacked Nelyn. She sidestepped and avoided it easily. Idæas attacked again and Nelyn blocked allowing the steel weapons to clang loudly. They fought like this for several minutes each blocking and attacking with expert skill.
“I see that some of my words have filtered through that brain of yours,” said Idæas.
“I am a quick study,” Nelyn replied.
Idæas swept his foot at her ankle and knocked her off balance. Nelyn staggered a bit, but quickly recovered. Her hard breathing told Idæas that he had challenged her. Finally, she brought her sword down upon him. He arced his upwards and locked both blades. For several moments they remained in that posture as beads of sweat dotted each of their brows.
“I believe we should call this one a draw,” said Idæas.
“Agreed,” replied Nelyn.
They unlocked their swords and relaxed. “You are a skilled swordswoman. You are good, but I can teach you to be magnificent.”
Nelyn’s face darkened. “I’ve been well trained.”
“True, but a wise warrior never stops training, nor does he cease to learn. You have learned the sword. You have yet to learn to use this,” Idæas pointed to Nelyn’s forehead, “And to control this.” Idæas pointed at Nelyn’s heart.
“Will you teach me?” asked Nelyn.
“Yes.”
Each day for weeks, they sparred whenever they had a spare
moment. At times the two attracted spectators within the camp. Even Arnin and Tesnayr enjoyed the show while the triplets took bets.