Chapter 14

Part 2

“Talia will sleep for a few hours yet, if none too restfully.” Hilsith reported as she seated herself and was handed a cup of tea. She waved away the breakfast she was offered with a polite gesture. “There is little to be done for her right now, especially without knowing the nature of the curse that Alilia has cast upon her.

“Dalia and Bezedil have been prepared for their final ceremonies, and lie in state in the Council Hall. You should go there to see Dalia and mourn her. Your last memories of her should not be as she was last evening.

“And Yazadril, Theramin asked me to tell you that he has conveyed your apologies to the human out by the border, for your having missed your meeting with him last night. Apparently, he also consulted with the human as to his preferred style of dwelling.

“You both must eat, even if food is like ashes in your mouths. Especially you, Yazadril. At your age, if you do not keep yourself up, your body and your spirit could fail in an amazingly short time. One cannot live on self-healing alone, and if you try to, you will soon lose the will to do so.”

“I still have a beautiful young wife, and a beautiful young daughter, and my duty. I will not fail them, you can be sure of that.” Yazadril stated. He hesitated a moment, then forced himself to eat.

“Was it you who cared for us as we slept last night, Hilsith?” Nemia asked.

“It was.” Hilsith nodded.

“Then I thank you. It could not have been easy or enjoyable.”

“I have cleaned and bedded down many sleeping and unconscious patients.” Hilsith said with a dismissing wave of her hand. “It is a common duty for Healers.”

“Of course, but I thank you nonetheless. How… How fares Alilia?”

“About as one would expect. She woke early, and has recovered her physical strength already. And even as expended as she was, her power recovers quickly as well, more quickly than I ever would have guessed. She is in the Council Hall now, viewing Bezedil and mourning him.”

“Ah. We should follow her example before too long, so that we can return before Talia wakes.” Nemia murmured sadly.

“That would be best.” Hilsith nodded. “I will remain here, in case she should awaken before you return. If you can, speak with Alilia. Ask her to tell you the nature of the curse she has cast upon Talia. It is the opinion of the Council that Talia does bear some small responsibility for the suicides of Dalia and Bezedil. But for the most part, it is thought that they chose their deaths of their own will, and with insufficient provocation, especially Dalia. It is also recognized that Alilia, in her disconsolate state, may have meted out a punishment that is unjustly harsh. If so, well, there may be little to be done about the injustice of it, but that will be decided by wiser minds than mine; primarily yours, Yazadril. If it is decided that the curse is unjustly harsh, it will be my task to try to minimize the suffering it may cause to Talia. With your assistance of course. And possibly Alilia’s.”

Yazadril continued eating without reply.

Nemia took a bite and chewed. She tried to swallow, but choked on it and had to spit it back onto her plate as she was again overcome by weeping.

Hilsith embraced her just before Yazadril did. They rubbed Nemia’s back and murmured soothing words, to little effect.

Finally Nemia rose and tearfully excused herself to dress. Yazadril decided he had choked down enough food, and did the same.

The Council Hall of the High People had long ago been a tunnel between First Valley, where Yazadril and his family lived, and Kemsah Valley, the second of the Nine Valleys. Over time the tunnel had been expanded into a great hall, a hemispherical hollow in the bedrock sixty-eight meters across and thirty meters high, its floor and the dome that formed the walls and ceiling polished to a smooth light-gray shine, brightened by skylights and glow-spheres.

Today a few hundred elves were within, most gathered into small groups scattered around the vast floor-space, talking quietly among themselves or softly weeping. A few were standing at one of the two gleaming white marble open caskets that had been placed five meters apart near the center of the hall, viewing the deceased and paying their respects.

Yazadril and Nemia were offered many subdued greetings and condolences as they slowly crossed the vast floor to Dalia’s casket. Their relatives and Dalia’s closest friends were gathered around it, a few of them crying softly, all with tear-tracked cheeks.

Dalia’s body had been expertly prepared, and at first glance she looked like she was merely sleeping, clad in a white silk robe, her blonde hair softly flowing over a white satin pillow. It was difficult to believe that this was the same flesh that had lain so twisted and broken on the forest floor beneath her window on the previous day’s afternoon.

Nemia would have collapsed at the sight if Yazadril had not supported her, and they were again overcome with weeping.

Nemia drew them away until they could no longer see Dalia, and they cried a few minutes more. Silently, they prayed that Dalia’s spirit had found peace, though they knew that the missing gods would never answer.

Then they made their way to Bezedil’s casket, which was loosely surrounded by forest elves of The People of Life. Those made way for them, and as they drew within sight of Bezedil’s body, they saw that Alilia sat beside it on an ornate wooden chair, her hands folded in her lap.

“Alilia,” Yazadril said, then choked on the lump in his throat. He cleared it a bit, then tried again. “Alilia, we are deeply sorry for your loss.”

“As I am for yours, Yazadril, Nemia.” Alilia calmly told them. Her face was a rigid mask of self-control, though tears still slowly trickled down her face. “And I must apologize for my behavior yesterday. My treatment of you during Bezedil’s Reading was… atrocious, Yazadril, as was my threat to your life, Nemia.”

“We do forgive you that, Alilia, as it was quite understandable under the circumstances.” Nemia softly said.

“Thank you.” Alilia nodded, never looking away from Bezedil’s face.

There was a strained silence for a moment.

“I have lived four thousand, eight hundred and fifty-six years.” Alilia quietly stated. “And during that time, Bezedil was the only child I have ever borne. I am not very fertile. I will probably never have another.”

“I… I did not know that.” Nemia stammered. A moment later, she began softly crying again.

At this, Alilia rose from her seat and embraced Nemia and Yazadril, and all three cried together.

Those gathered around moved back, to give them a semblance of privacy.

When their weeping had subsided, Alilia went back to her chair, and to her contemplation of Bezedil’s face.

Yazadril cleared his throat as he tried to think of a kind way to ask what he had to ask. “Alilia, I… I hate to have to ask this now, but we must know. What is the nature of the curse you have cast upon… Well, what is the nature of the curse?”

Alilia did not answer for a moment. “I was thinking that my son is forever dead because she had raped him by trickery, and so I cursed her to be raped until the end of days. That is her sentence.”

Yazadril and Nemia could only stare in shocked surprise for a moment.

“But… Raped?” Nemia finally asked. “How is that possible? No one could do such a thing, no matter if it was justified or not!”

“No elf could do such a thing.” Alilia quietly agreed, nodding.

Again there was a long, strained silence.

“So, how then…?” Yazadril began before Alilia interrupted him, her eyes flashing to his, her voice tight with anger and bitterness.

“I have given her to the damned human!” she cried, seeming loud in the great quiet space.

A moment later Nemia fainted, and Yazadril caught her, swept her up in his arms.

“He will only live another seventy years, at most!” Yazadril stated accusingly. “If he were any other, I would expect the curse to extend his life to match Talia’s life span! But since the curse cannot directly affect him, I expect it will kill her when he dies! So you have sentenced her to an early death after all!”