Well.
It’s over. After a year of waiting, I wrote the end for you. And maybe it’s not the ending that it could be. But at least it is AN ending, and now if I want to revise it, it will be easier to make sense of. Speaking of revisions, I haven’t forgotten anyone’s comments/criticisms, and I want to thank everyone for making comments/criticisms, and I’ll definitely be taking them all into account when/if I get around to revising.
I am not sure where to put the first scene in this. It feels like a scene that goes in the middle of a chapter. But there isn’t really room in the flow of the story to move it. That’ll be another thing to revise. :3 This chapter took two days to write, and is approximately 8100 words long (out of a total of approximately 69,600). The only part that I had written previously was the part about sandwiches, and the death of the spacedragon.
If you want to read from the beginning before you read this new chapter, here’s a link to Chapter 1 for ye. If you’re just looking for your cameo character, everyone gets several minutes in this one, except Marcus, who is ded-ded-dedy-permaded. I might turn around and throw in a reference to him later, or I might not. I haven’t really decided yet. But thanks everyone for letting me borrow their characters; they were super helpful to have around and I’d be glad to see them again.
Hope you enjoyed this story in all its rough-draft glory. I’m glad to have written it.
EDIT: After adding the scene with Torrigan, this chapter grew to truly monster proportions, so there is now a link to Chapter 15 at the bottom of the page!
Chapter 14
Illinia knew there was something wrong with Torrigan, and it wasn’t that his scars made him look intimidating. He smiled a lot less than he had before, and the way he walked carried so much tension… The next day, she caught up with him alone after the daily planning session.
“Torrigan?”
He looked down at her seriously. “Illinia. You have questions.”
She looked at the floor. “I-I do. I hope you don’t mind…”
“There are some things I would rather not talk about,” he said, and began to continue moving down the hallway towards the stairs to the ramparts. “I’ll answer what questions you have on other things.”
“I’m just worried,” she said, following him up. “You’re… not acting like… you don’t seem like yourself…”
He turned on her so fast she almost fell backwards down the narrow stairs. “That is wrong. I…” He hesitated. “This is awkward. Let us get into the open.”
They stood together on the edge of the wall for a few minutes, Illinia watching the clouds go by, covering and uncovering the sun, Torrigan staring moodily off into the distance as if watching for enemies.
At length, he sighed. “The truth is, I was not myself while we were travelling together, strange as that may seem. I tried, Illinia, I really did. But I am not a nice person. I never have been. I tried to be a true paladin. I knew, intellectually, what it required of me. I thought it would… fix me.”
She glanced at him, wondering if these were messages meant by the universe for her treatment of Michael.
He didn’t look back at her. “It didn’t. It was easier when you were there, actually. That there was someone so incredibly pure, someone who truly believed in the goodness of humanity… of good lives in general, that kept me from slipping up for fear you would be hurt.”
“I seem to have that effect on people,” she said, smiling. “But what about Mira?”
“Mira knows about life. She’s… sprightly, but it’s not the same. She did her best for me, it’s true. Kellan, of course, didn’t care. He thought I was a lot more interesting afterwards. But as soon as you left…”
“I hope you didn’t blame yourself for it…?”
“Oh, I did.” His mouth tightened. “I’m not going to tell you it’s your fault I fell again. I was going to whether or not you were there. I realize that now. But you did one independent thing, and I lashed out at you, and you left, naturally.”
“Oh, Torrigan, that’s not what happened.”
“From your point of view, perhaps. From your generous, ever-forgiving, self-sacrificing point of view.”
“Well, perhaps we could meet halfway? That what I did wasn’t as wrong as it seemed, and what you did was still justified…”
“You can’t bend two opposite truths until they aren’t truths anymore,” he snapped. “As a paladin, I knew that.”
She tensed a little. “I don’t know what the truth is on that event anymore. So I make up a pretty story that exonerates everyone. Is that so wrong?”
“Isn’t it? Isn’t truth more important than anything, for goodness to flourish?”
“I don’t think truth is most important. It is important to Eru – ah, I mean… Heironymous, but us poor flesh-clad beings have such a hard time finding out what it is, I don’t think he can blame anyone who puts friendship and reconciliation higher, as long as they don’t tell outright lies… That is not what you were taught, is it?”
“No. Is that what you were taught?”
She shook her head. “No, I came up with it during the times that I wasn’t singing and dancing in my home forest.” She smiled at him. “I’m older than I look. I had a lot of time to think about it, even if I was too shy to have many friends.”
He didn’t smile back. “Whatever the case, I can’t agree. Illinia… I’ve done terrible things. I don’t know how to stop it. I can’t lean on the good people of the world to keep me in line all the time.”
“Yes, you can,” she said.
“Mira can’t spend all her time shepherding me, and you’re searching for your husband.”
“You could come with me.”
“I… I don’t want to show you this other side of me up close.”
“You won’t. I trust you.”
He reached out to grab her arm, turn her to face him. “I will! Illinia, I’ve… I’ve killed people! The stories Mira told you yesterday of our adventures? That was the sugar-coated version, because not even she knows what I’ve done.” He touched his face with his free hand. “This… scar I have to live with now, it wasn’t heroically received in the line of duty. And I lied about it to everyone. It’s a perpetual reminder to me now of my cowardice, of my weakness, of the fact that I am not the man I pretended I was for a while. That I’m still the thief, the murderer, the wretch I was when I was younger. How can you say you trust me with this staring us all in the face? I am no paladin.” He pulled his medallion off, flung it to the floor. “I can’t be a paladin. It’s impossible. Why Pelor took any interest in my while I was, I…”
He buried his face in his hands and Illinia knew he was silently weeping.
She had been frozen in his grip while he ranted at her, and when he released her, she breathed again. She bent down and picked up the medallion. The gold was scratched and dented. She wondered if the scratches had come from battle, or if he’d thrown it around before.
“Torrigan…” she said gently. “I don’t know what you’ve done, nor do I want to know. But I do know that we’ve all had a difficult journey, and it affected us in different ways. So it brought out something in you that you wished gone and forgotten. Do you think it matters to us? Michael’s had a difficult time travelling with me, too. If he can overcome his darkness, you can, too. So it doesn’t matter, in the end. You are still yourself, and that self is a good man.”
“Why do you think I was travelling alone when I met you? I had no friends. Anyone who saw who I truly was left me. I didn’t want anyone new to see if I lost control on one of my rampages of justice.”
“So you… wanted to kill yourself in the name of justice? To destroy some great outpost of evil and die in the attempt, to atone with your life for something that wasn’t your fault?”
He raised his head out of his hands and looked down at her again with red-rimmed eyes. “You truly have grown on your own journey.”
“Torrigan…?”
“Yes, I did want to kill myself. Then I met you three, and we grew into a team.” He smiled, finally. “I enjoyed that time. For once, I felt I could be the person I said I was.”
“I’m glad to have helped. And I’m sorry that I ran away. …What will you do now?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t know, Illinia. I will see this war through, that is certain, and I will try not to… to give in to the wickedness in my own heart. I’ve been unkind to the others… not that Kellan cares, but… Mira is like you, a bit. She never blamed me when she lost her fingers, and that was my fault too.” He paused, bit his lip hard. “I think I will worry about my future once this war is over. For now… you will keep me on course. So don’t die, all right? And don’t let that Michael fellow hurt you, all right?”
She smiled. “I won’t. Thank you, Torrigan. I’m glad you are with us again.”
The night was dark and moonless. The air was still, although the scent of late summer flowers still hovered in it.
Illinia stood on her balcony, in her husband’s arms. There was no other place that was home for her; not even Mirkwood was home now unless her husband was there as well. His warm embrace, his gentle voice, his cool clear scent, that was all she wanted from life. And she had it. Was there any other as fortunate as she was?
“Illinia,” he said, almost inaudibly, “there is something… I need to tell you.”
She looked up at him quizzically. “Something difficult to tell?”
“Yes. I… forgive me.”
She smiled fondly at him. “Whatever it is, if you are here, I can bear it.”
He let her go and took two steps back. “Then I should never tell it to you.” His voice was hard, not his own.
She stiffened in apprehension, and he hesitated, clearly agonized by the decision he was about to make.
“Mith’las…” she said at last.
He interrupted her. “That is not my name.”
“Well, no, but-”
“No, I am not him. …Forgive me!”
She blinked in frightened incomprehension, then drew back as his form blurred. When she could see him clearly again in the starlight, he was a little shorter, blue-skinned, white-haired, black-eyed.
Her world tumbled around her and she felt dizzy. “What?”
“I’m sorry,” he said miserably. “I… couldn’t resist.”
“Why?”
“…It’s complicated. I don’t know whether it was originally to hurt you, or if I’m desperate enough to act around the fact that you would never accept me as myself… Illinia, please… you’ve broken me. I’ve lost. You should let them kill me. Just do it.”
“No!” she cried. “No, no no no… Michael… how could you…?”
“Because I love you, you stupid little naive bird.” His shape began to blur again, to take her husband’s form, but she turned away quickly, hiding her face. It was amazing. Only a few moments ago she had nothing to wish for. Now her life was almost as broken as the man in front of her.
After a pause, arms went around her. She pushed him away ineffectually, then saw that he was in his own form again. There was something in his dark eyes, some kind of desolation, that almost matched her own. Perhaps that was why she didn’t fight as he kissed her again.
He kissed her harder, and to her own unwelcome surprise, she found herself kissing him back. She was weak, she only wanted someone to comfort her… and Michael needed comfort as well. Tears began to stream down her face.
She broke away and stumbled hastily across the balcony to huddle in a corner. “Was this your own way of winning, in the end?” she asked hoarsely. “Your greatest betrayal short of murdering everyone in the castle?”
He flinched. “Not this time.”
He stood silently for a long time, like the soldier he was. Illinia was no soldier. She curled into a little ball and sobbed quietly.
“I’m sorry, Illinia.”
“Why?” she whispered. “Why couldn’t it have been real? Why am I so weak?” Even as she spoke, she knew that it was right that he tell her, even if it was wrong that he had deceived her in the first place. It would have come out eventually, because all lies came out eventually, but it was right that he had told her himself, on his own initiative. For that, perhaps, she could be proud of him. When it stopped hurting so much. “You don’t know where he is, do you?”
“No.”
She stopped herself from asking ‘why’ over and over, at least out loud, and sat leaning against the balcony wall. “We should try to sleep.”
He gave a short, unhappy laugh. “As if it’s possible. But I will attempt it.” He hesitated still. “I’m sorry.”
She gave a jerky nod. “Things might be better in the morning.”
“No, they won’t. You should kill me.”
“Michael! Don’t kill yourself.”
“What else do I have to live for?” He came back from the doorway to his room, white brows furrowed. “I am your slave. I can no longer function among my own people. I can’t function without you among your people. You twist me to your will without trying, without even knowing, and you will never, ever see me as more than a… a… I don’t even know how you see me. A… …friend.” It was the first time he’d used the word in anything approaching an unironic sense, and she looked up in surprise. “I have no hopes there, certainly not after the stunt I just pulled. Although I’m pretty certain you did just kiss me willingly… No one else here will accept me without you, not even… Lusiel, or Eliara, or Kaisten. Your former friends hate me, your new friends only tolerate me because of you, and the others would hate and fear me if they found out what I really am. You may have won against me, but you cannot win against the world. It’s the same thing as when we met.” Words spent, he fell to a sitting position across from her.
She swallowed. “I know you won’t believe me, but you may have things to live for besides me. Maybe you just don’t know them yet.”
He snorted. “Oh? Like you have other things to live for besides your husband?”
That brought another rush of tears to her eyes, but she controlled them with an effort, clenching her teeth together until they passed. “I would not want to live without him, no. I left behind my homeland, my family, my old friends, for him. And yet… I have new friends. I do think Lusiel and Siasara, Kip, Eliara, Jaye, all of them do like you in their own way. You can’t dismiss them.”
He pondered that for several minutes. “I don’t believe you yet. But I will acknowledge my world-view isn’t as strong as it once was. I still think you would throw yourself off the nearest cliff if you had irrefutable proof that your husband was dead. But I never had a chance in the first place, and I’m still alive, so I guess I can go on living for the time being. Perhaps you’ll find some purpose for my life…”
She faced him and rose to her knees, giving her a rare height advantage. “I am not going to sacrifice you, and you are not going to sacrifice yourself for me.”
He grinned tightly. “Well, there goes my melodramatic plan. Fine. Whatever you wish.”
“Michael, what is it you want besides my affection?”
He started, as if he wasn’t expecting that. His hand half reached out to her waist, and when she made no move to stop him, his eyes grew wide. “You… I just hurt you, the worst I’ve ever hurt anyone – except myself by getting myself into this mess – and the worst you’ve ever been hurt, I would guess… and you still trust me.” He tentatively touched her side, but did not pull her into an embrace. “How do you do that?”
She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows inquisitively. “You’re not going to throw a tantrum this time?”
“This ti- Oh.” She still remembered how he had struck her on their first day in Harken Keep. “No.”
“You can always hurt me,” she said gently. “You could even hurt me physically, although I don’t fear that anymore. But you are also lost and confused in this strange world, like me. You’re in a place you never thought you’d be, doing things you never thought you’d do, aren’t you? Things that once you would have thought against your very nature, perhaps, as far as your nature was a reflection of your environment. And yes, my heart is newly broken, but I can’t hate you for it. Maybe I can’t forgive you just yet, but I will. In fact, I am rather proud of you, for the way you’ve adapted, for the way you’ve coped, for confessing to me on your own…”
“Like your pet dog,” he growled, and she sighed.
“No. Michael, you are my friend, a good friend. You can’t be my lover. But… if you don’t fit in this world anymore… come with me to the next one. Come with me to Valinor.”
“He would be there too, though, wouldn’t he?” His fingers tightened on her side.
“In Valinor you will find healing for your heartache. I swear it.”
“That doesn’t answer my question-”
She pulled away and stood abruptly. “Go to bed. We will talk more in the morning. For now… I do need some time to myself.”
He slowly pulled himself to his feet.
“Don’t do anything foolish,” she said anxiously, trying to read his face, and turned to go down into the garden, where she could let out some of the tears of loss that were still tight in her heart.
The next week was stressful; Torrigan and Mira read through her eyes that something had happened, and while Mira simply threw herself into comforting Illinia, Illinia had to step in when Torrigan began to bully Michael. And then Kellan followed Torrigan’s lead and joined in. Michael, to her surprise, simply took it silently.
She worried about all of them. It was a mild relief when Stella visited the castle and gave them all something else to think about for a while.
“Have another sandwich?” Stella asked her, offering her the plate.
Illinia smiled at the ridiculousness of it all and took another sandwich.
Jaye, his fiancée Stella, and Illinia were sitting in the middle of a broad grassy meadow, sun shining, birds chirping, breeze rustling the young trees nearby – on a picnic. Stella, who was short, blonde, and buxom, not to mention high nobility, had arrived on a visit two days earlier, a week after Illinia’s evening confrontation.
Immediately on meeting Illinia, Stella had fussed over her thinness and the shadows of her eyes, and insisted that they go out for a picnic one fine afternoon. She certainly didn’t act like a noblewoman. Jaye had bowed helplessly before his lover, and Illinia had been dragged along in wide-eyed consternation. Lusiel had laughed at all of them, and Michael had hidden himself.
So they were sitting in the sunshine, pretending as best they could that everything was normal, while Eliara and a band of her best scouts surreptitiously patrolled in a 500-meter radius around them.
“Tell me about your lover,” Stella persisted, giggling girlishly, leaning towards Illinia in a way that suggested she had known her since forever.
“Ah… well… what do you want to know?” Illinia asked shyly, cradling the cup of her drink in front of her like a shield. It was more difficult than it used to be to think of her husband now, warped as it was by the deception of the previous months. She hadn’t told Jaye about it. “I could tell you many things, but it’s hard to find words for some of them. Even now, when ever-green memory brings him to me, and I think of his familiar aspects, I find it hard to put in words. But he is very brave, and kind, gentle with me, but fierce to our enemies.”
Stella squealed giddily. “You’re so poetic!”
Jaye held up a hand, listening intently – not to her, but to something in the world around them. Illinia tilted her head, straining to hear, and heard nothing.
No, not nothing… something Stella’s squeal had partly masked. There had been a cry of pain, and the echoes of it were still in the wind and the trees.
Everything went very still for a moment.
Then screams came pouring over the side of the hill to the south, screams of agony and screams of terror, mixed with harsh rasping noises and the growling of a massive-sounding creature.
Jaye leapt to his feet, seizing the lance that he never let stray too far from his side, and settled into a defensive stance as Eliara came running up to them, her winged helmet slightly askew.
“Sir!” she cried, saluting hastily. “Some kind of creature has ambushed us! We don’t know what it is and we can’t hurt it. We’re taking heavy losses, sir!”
“You didn’t bring a weapon, did you?” Jaye asked Esgalwen, who shook her head and showed him her new little knife.
“I’ll have someone bring you a bow,” Eliara said quickly. “Sir, permission to send Kaisten for aid.”
“Permission granted,” Jaye grunted. “In fact, we should all retreat back to the castle.”
“What’s going on?” Stella asked Illinia in a frightened whisper.
“I don’t know,” Illinia whispered back.
A huge jagged silver shape rose over the top of the hill; Eliara’s troops were fleeing before it. Eliara growled and ran to help them, barking orders and brandishing her spear. The silver shape grew clearer – it was shaped like a dragon, but it seemed to be made of metal, and covered in far too many spikes. Its eyes glowed a bright, malevolent green. It opened its jaws and roared, and a noxious green gas billowed out. Two unlucky soldiers who breathed it in coughed and fell limp to the ground.
Stella whimpered, and Illinia was frozen to the spot. Even Jaye’s hand shook slightly.
But in front of them, Eliara was shouting orders, running to and fro to individually shake terrified soldiers into some semblance of self-control. The giant dragon was not quick, but it was still bearing down on her as one soldier ran up to Illinia to give her his bow.
Eliara had gathered a small band around her, and instead of retreating, was leaping into battle against the dragon itself. It didn’t seem affected by any of her attacks, instead swatting at the attacking elves as a minor distraction while it continued straight on its way – towards Jaye, Stella, and Illinia.
“Eliara!” Jaye’s bellow resounded easily across the meadow. “Retreat! We need reinforcements!”
Eliara’s helmeted head turned toward him, and she nodded reluctantly. She took a look down over the other side of the hill, and flinched. Then she came speeding back, the remnants of her party behind her.
“Sir!” she gasped. “There’s a vast army! Many thousands, perhaps, and I can’t tell who they are.”
Jaye swore under his breath.
The silver dragon crouched back for a moment, and then sprang heavily into the air. The elves dodged easily, but it shook the ground so hard when it landed that a number of them lost their footing.
“Scatter!” Eliara cried, stabbing her lance at the monster’s eye. There was the sound of shattering glass, and the eye went dark. The elves fled in all directions, with Jaye sheltering Stella and Illinia following the tall elf.
But the dragon did not seem to be in any discomfort, or to have lost any vision – it reached out and batted Eliara away twenty feet; she landed in a crouch and came sprinting back to the attack. It snapped its teeth at her and she skidded to a halt, trying to find some way to attack it away from its dangerous head. A claw reached out towards her with sharp shining claws.
“What are you doing?” came a distinctly unimpressed voice, and another voice laughed cheerfully.
An arm wrapped around Eliara and the far-too-tall figure it was attached to was already in motion, dashing towards the retreating group, as a shorter figure appeared hovering in the air above them.
The dragon froze, shuddered, and crumbled into dust.
“Hey, lassie,” the tall figure said to Illinia as he trotted easily past her.
“V-valiensin??” she gasped, startled.
“What about me?” said a voice on her other side, and there was Tharash, blinking into existence beside her.
All she could do was gape.
“You can close your mouth now,” he told her gruffly. “Also, why are you running?”
Eliara struggled and kicked until Valiensin put her down. “In case you didn’t notice, that dragon was not all we had to deal with. Thanks for saving us from that, but there’s a giant freakin’ army behind it too.”
“That one?” Tharash said in a monotone, pointing ahead of them.
Jaye shielded his eyes with his hand. “No! That’s Lu and our army. All right, Stella, you go with Siasara and get back home safely, do you understand?”
“Yes, Jaye… You come back safe yourself, or I will hunt you down and kick you in the shins!”
“Yes, darling.”
As Jaye had said, Siasara came straight for Stella, with a quick, anxious glance at Illinia. But for Illinia came Torrigan, Mira, Kellan, and Michael; Michael was carrying her weapons and took a place close beside her. They might not have resolved their relationship yet, but she knew he would guard her more closely than ever before, and she was grateful.
“We have to retreat immediately,” Jaye said to Lusiel.
The cheerful commander grimaced. “We can’t, actually. Siasara’s going to keep Stella near the back, maybe try to sneak her out with magic if there’s occasion for it, but they’re cutting us off. It’s a very nicely laid trap. We saw you were going to be in trouble from the tower and came as soon as we could. Now we’re going to have to fight.”
“We’ll give it to them!” Mira cried, astride a young armoured gryphon. “Orders?”
Lusiel smiled, and glanced at Michael.
“They lured us out from our best defenses, to hit us with overwhelming strength,” Michael said slowly, tucking blonde hair behind his ear. He glanced back at Lusiel. “The question is, do you want to retreat to our defenses, which would be sensible and what they were built for, or do you want to do something daring to take them by surprise?”
“How is that even a question?” Kip put in from behind Lusiel. “You know what he’s going to say. And I agree with him.”
Lusiel nodded vigorously.
“All right.” Michael frowned at the screaming tide of outlandish warriors bearing down on them. They didn’t look like the enemies they had normally fought. “There comes their cavalry around our flanks. I recommend our cavalry form a wedge, the tip of a spear we shall drive towards the river. We can break out of encirclement and fight more effectively near the water. How many aquamancers do we have?”
“A couple,” Lusiel replied, and raised his voice. “Form wedge! Cavalry, point, charge west!”
Illinia was conscious of her lack of armour, but there was nothing she could do about it now. She tested the string of her bow as they ran behind their cavalry to meet the left wing of the enemy army. Ahead came the familiar clashes and shrieks of battle, and then the flak of spells filled the air above them along with a wave of arrows. Illinia ducked instinctively, then sent a trio of arrows arcing back in answer.
The enemy was upon them, and there was no time for more orders or strategy. This would be a slugging match, not the kind of battle she liked; where each side wore each other down by attrition. But their own side was so much smaller than the other side to begin with. This was probably going to be the end of the war – and of her quest. And her life.
A purple lightening bolt crackled past her and sparked through a section of the enemy, but it wasn’t as devastating as it usually was. Kip frowned and tried again, twirling his staff. “Someone has dampened the magic in this area.”
“Perhaps the stream is not an effective goal, then,” Lusiel said. “We’re surrounded. We fight here!”
She could hear Tharash and Valiensin bickering about the probabilities of successfully applying chaos magic, and marvelled at how they fought together. They were both quick-footed, but Valiensin’s great sword was flickering and twirling as if it weighed nothing in his hand, while Tharash just melted the face of any soldier who came close to him. They supported each other, fought as a team. She wondered how often they had done it before. Jaye joined them, and then no enemy dared go near them.
Then she caught sight of a massive, hulking figure in the midst of the horde. That must be the enemy leader. She didn’t even remember his name, didn’t care. If he was defeated, then the battle would be over, wouldn’t it?
As if they’d had the same thought, she saw Torrigan and Lusiel leaping at the figure. Torrigan’s sword shone with an orange-tinted white, and a glow was around him. Pelor was still with him. Lusiel’s swords glowed blue and green, and left butterfly-shaped sparks behind. Mira and Kellan followed them, Kellan doing cartwheels right up to the figure and then darting away, and Mira stooping from the sky at him on her gryphon. Mira laughed; it was plain to see that she loved flying. Then an arrow struck her gryphon’s wing and she tumbled to the ground in the middle of the melee.
Illinia swiftly nocked a pair of arrows to her bow and let fly at the enemy leader. It would be suicide for her to get in close, but she could certainly help her friends from where she stood. Except that her arrows bounced off the dark grey armour as if they were made of twigs.
She cried out as someone pushed her, and looked up to see Michael standing over her, halberd on the defense. There was a thunk, and he jerked. An arrow stood out from his chest, entirely too close to his heart.
Illinia screamed and reached out to him. For the briefest second, just as she caught him, her mind went completely blank, and she felt something much greater than her touch her mind. There was a wrench, and then she was herself again, stumbling to her knees with the deadweight of her friend against her small body.
Something white and shining swept over the field. “Oh, great,” Tharash muttered. “A deus ex machina.”
“Don’t complain too hard,” Valiensin grinned at him. “You’re only one step below that yourself.”
Illinia didn’t even see as the field was emptied of enemy soldiers, as the people fighting them simply vanished, as the tall leader figure clutched his chest and crumpled to the ground. All she could see was the shapeshifter gasping for breath in her arms, his mouth twisted in pain and his eyes wide with fear. Even as she gathered all her healing powers, he jerked and fell still, breath sighing away.
Michael’s body shivered, and his elven disguise faded away, leaving him as himself.
“Uh, hold on,” Lusiel said. “Eliara, Jaye, keep the soldiers away…”
But it was too late.
“Is that… a shapeshifter?” “Why is our Lady clinging to a shapeshifter?” “Is that why we were so badly outnumbered, did he betray us?” “Who was he among us?”
As they began to gather, some pointed their weapons at her, but she paid them no attention. She rocked back and forth, clinging to his bloodstained body, tears streaming down her face, and she lifted her face to the blue sky and wailed.
The white light swooped down on the battlefield, and plucked Illinia from where she sat.
Instantly, the world turned cloudy white-gold, just as it had done before, when Illinia had died. She shivered, hoping she wasn’t dead again, and tried to stem her tears.
“No, you are not dead,” the voice of Illora broke into her thoughts. “I wished to speak with you again.”
Now Illinia really trembled, because while her shyness made it difficult for her to express coherent thoughts sometimes, her thoughts had no such shyness and were running faster than she could catch them. She tried to voice the important ones, though. “Why me? What was this all about?” And sniffed mightily.
The goddess drifted closer, smiling. “Because you are an elf, but not one of my people.”
Illinia shook her head, confused.
“The evil Lord was not of this world either. None of us could fight him directly, not even when he allied himself with the servants of the evil gods. And then he picked a fight with my people. Mine. I do not know why. But you… I did it to help you, and to let you help me. I was glad when you died, because then I could speak to you. And this now, having spoken to you once before, having manifested now, all makes it possible to speak face-to-face with you again.”
“Help me…?”
“I know your quest. I watched you travel. Your trials were not entirely arranged by me, yet by choosing you, I could give you the strength you need to continue on.”
“You mean my strength comes from you?” Illinia despaired. She had thought she was growing inside, but if it came from Illora, she would still be weak once she left this world.
“No, but by choosing you, by giving you greater trials, you have grown far beyond what you once were, and yet you are still yourself. I like you, outsider Esgalwen, and I wish you well in your quest. And of course I am grateful that you saved my people – and Elberron itself – from destruction. And so I have a gift for you.”
“You don’t have to do that…”
“But it is so easy!” Illora chuckled. “Look closely. I do not know much outside this world, but I know a little. Is this not him whom you seek?”
Illinia gasped. There was her husband, on the edge of a lush green forest, looking out on a barren grey wasteland. There was his companion beside him. Her husband looked anxious and sad, and yet he was as handsome as he had ever been. Her heart longed to be there with him, to smooth as much of the worry from his face as she could.
“He misses you,” Illora said off-handedly. “All the while he was in this world, he missed you.”
“Why did you not choose him to save your people?” Illinia asked. “He would have been a much better choice.”
“But the evil Lord already knew him and was hunting him. He was not hunting you and so you were safe a while longer.”
“Can- can you take me to him?”
“No, I cannot. You will have to ask your demon friend to help you.”
Illinia frowned. “I don’t have a demon friend…”
“He looks human, but he is not.”
“Tharash is not a demon!”
“He is not wholly human, either, and his power is too great to be wielded by a mortal. Be glad that he is a friend of you and Flairé – him you call Valiensin – or my allies and I would go to war with him for his unnaturalness.” Illora’s voice was cold.
Illinia looked away, not wanting to fight the goddess, yet wanting to defend Tharash. “What happened to the enemies?”
“They are gone,” said the goddess offhandedly.
“Dead?”
“Yes, of course. I removed them all.”
Illinia flinched. “That seems… a bit unfair.”
“They were killing my people. I killed them. What would you have done?”
“I… would have sent them back home…?”
“Where they could gather again?”
“But without their leader…”
“It doesn’t matter. Death is all they deserve, a quick death to send them off to their cruel gods.”
Illinia shivered. Sometimes allies were not all they were advertised to be.
“I shall return you to your friends now,” Illora said, as smiling as if the topics of voidmages and genocide had never come up.
“Oh!” Illinia cried. There was one other thing. “What about Michael?”
“The shapeshifter who died for you?”
“Is it possible… you brought me back…”
“No. He is not one of my people, or Culann’s people, or in fact anyone’s people. He is alone, and will never be welcomed into any of the pantheons. I admire what you did, but his transformation was not complete.”
“But it was!” Illinia pleaded. She trembled for her life, hoping the goddess wouldn’t get angry. “He lived with us, worked with us… he loved me, he died for me. Surely he receives more than eternal nothingness or damnation.”
“Shut up,” said a familiar sarcastic voice. “I’m busy being dead. There might not be a lot here, but there’s definitely not a lot in the living world. So leave me alone.”
“Michael!” Illinia cried. “Where are you?”
“Dead. Go away. Go to your husband. The two of you have waited long enough, and I don’t want to be around to see your reunion.”
Illinia faced Illora again. “Is that really him, or are you tricking me?”
“I am not the goddess of tricks, Twice-Born.”
Michael appeared, blue skin and white hair, and gave a ghostly sigh. “I can’t even rest in peace, can I? What do you want?”
“I want peace for you, but real peace. I don’t want you to be forever alone.”
“You want me to have a happy ending?” His smile was sarcastic, but a little bit sad, too. Illinia recalled their early discussions and guessed that he was thinking of them too.
She smiled. “That would be nice.”
He spread his hands. “If I told you that I am at peace, would you go? I am happy, Illinia, as happy as ever I’ve been. You’re safe. That’s all that matters.”
Tears came into her eyes. “You idiot. There’s more to life than me.”
He actually laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call someone an idiot before. Did I get under your skin that much?”
She sniffed and tried to smile. “I told you – you can’t be my lover. But you are a good friend, and I… I really like you. I don’t want to lose you, not when you’re still finding yourself.” She leaned forward tentatively. “I can’t hug you, can I?”
He shook his head. “That’s all right. I don’t think I could control myself, and I’d end up making out with you under the disapproving gaze of what’s-her-face over there. And then I’d get burned to a crisp for touching her champion. No thanks.”
She laughed a little and sniffled some more.
“Oh, don’t cry,” and despite his words, he crossed the distance to her, trying to hold her in his ghostly arms. She felt nothing, yet was comforted anyway. “I’m not lying. I accomplished my goal. I have no regrets. Except for deceiving you, of course.” He peered anxiously at her. “Have you forgiven me yet?”
“Yes, yes, of course I have,” she said, reaching up to touch his untouchable face. “If you are so adamant about it, I won’t go hunting for a way to reincarnate you. But… if you ever wish to come to Valinor…”
“Now that I’m dead, I’ll have all the time in the world to find it. Even if it’s not actually in this world. I’ll go there and wait for you. She can’t stop me. None of them can stop me.”
Illinia grew calm again. “I’ll wait for you, too, if I get there first. I actually think you and my husband might get along well.” She smiled a little. “I hope we get a chance to find out, someday.”
He shrugged. “Can’t say I’m terribly fond of the idea yet, but you said there’s healing for heartache there, so perhaps I won’t mind so much once I make it there.” His arms fell to his sides, and he stepped back. “You’d better go. Don’t keep the others waiting too long. That Tharash person doesn’t look very patient, and if you want him to take you to the next world…”
“I know,” she said, trying and failing not to start crying again. “Thank you so much, Michael.”
“Don’t say goodbye,” he said gently. “I love you, Illinia… Esgalwen.”
“I… Thank you. I-I love you too.” Platonically, it went without saying. But it felt right to say.
Illora moved closer to her, smiling serenely as she usually did, and everything grew too bright to see.