Myran Page 3

  “Come, sit with me. I won't let anyone harm you.” She gently pulled me closer, keeping her arms around me.

  “It's not me I'm worried about,” I whispered, “It's you.”

  She looked thoughtful for a moment and then glanced up at Tilyon, who was just about to creep from our cave out into the world, “Who is it?” she called before he could quite get away.

  “Just as we thought,” he replied, “and so it begins.” Then he was gone.

  I looked at her, the grand lady, with a question in my eyes. She sighed softly. “You are wise for your ten years. Sooner or later you will understand, and I shall tell you more. For now, they have come to let us know. You can stay and listen or disappear to your daily wanderings.”

  I stared at the table in front of me, torn between leaving the safety of the lady or being faced with new acquaintances. I'd grown comfortable with the exclusive surroundings and the loneliness of seeing Luthín, Tilyon, and Mok. Sometimes Whryling would come along or other smaller creatures of the wood. I did not know how I felt about seeing beings other than talking animals.

  Before I could decide, the bushes parted and in walked a wonderfully large, white horse that took in its surroundings with intelligent eyes. A male followed behind it. He was small and slender, even for his five-foot frame. Forest leaves clothed his limber body and his longish hair was the color of night. His eyes looked serious in his gaunt face, but the lines of his mouth spilled joy; as soon as he saw Luthín and me, his face lit up. Tilyon came in last of all, as if closing the door behind them. He looked directly at Luthín and held her gaze, even though I saw her betray no emotion.

  “Hail, Lady Luthín and Lord Tilyon!” The male bowed, very slightly, almost as if he were approaching those above him who had been reduced by punishment below him. “I am...” He paused on his name and glanced uncertainly at me. “Leiflo the Jesnidrain. I bring messages from others of our kind and news of the world, good news,” he added with a proud light on his face. “Along with Longstride the White Steed.” The beautiful white horse nodded. “We are witnesses to the impending changes."

  “News, changes, and messages,” Tilyon turned the words over thoughtfully. “Welcome then. Come, sit. You must have been traveling fast and long.” He brought Longstride a basin of water and Leiflo the Jesnidrain a taller glass of clear liquid. Longstride continued to stand off to the side while Leiflo and Tilyon joined Luthín and me at the table.

  For a few moments, there was the sound of Longstride lapping water, and then Leiflo twirled his cup, took a sip, and sat it down without a sound. “We heard yesterday,” he said, “the good news; the reign is at an end. Have you heard yet?” He did not wait for an answer but plunged on. “We were commissioned to ride out to tell you. We went as fast as we could. I dare say, we covered many miles, but it is urgent.”

  “Surely you will stay here after traveling for twenty-four hours,” Tilyon remarked. It was not quite an invitation, nor did he mean for them to refuse; it was merely a known fact. These visitors from the north would stay for a while before beginning another frantic dash back to whence they came.

  “Ci, but Tremlore will want an answer. We might return this evening or in the early hours of the dawn.” Leiflo nodded, beginning with a word in the musical tongue.

  “That language is not spoken here,” Tilyon warned with a slight glance at me.

  Leiflo had the decency to look slightly confused.

  “Come,” Luthín interrupted what would have become an awkward moment. “I want to hear more. We have heard slight rumors. We are aware of what goes on. Do not spare us the details.”

  Leiflo looked at me, as if he were unsure of what I was allowed or supposed to hear. Then he threw all caution to the wind. “Magdela the Monrage is gone; her rule is over.” Once again, the joy lit up his entire face.

  I gave a start at the news. This was the reason our world was endangered. It was because of this horrible person, Magdela the Monrage, that the South World was a broken-up, war-torn world. Even at my young age, I knew this. I thought I knew what it meant for her to be dead and gone, yet the composed and calm looks on my guardians' faces surprised me. Even Longstride went on licking up water as if it did not matter.

  Leiflo continued, “The Black Steeds held a trial for her up in Daygone.” He shuddered. “There they confirmed her double-dealing with the Black Steeds and White Steeds and tortured her through fire and water. They disfigured her from the beauty of a Green Person to a dark and stunted Monrage. They took her wits and drowned them, along with her powers, and sentenced her to live in the wild and perilous forest of the Eastern World. There she lives now...”

  “When?” Luthín leaned forward, her expression tense, her face pale. “When did this all happen?”

  Longstride took over at this point. “It's been at least a week since these events took place. We are spreading the word as fast as we can.”

  “This does not mean it is the end, we have to be careful about coming out and rejoicing too soon,” Tilyon warned. “After all, ‘Song’ has not come true yet, and there seems to be no hint of it.”

  “There is a thought...” Luthín began but trailed off.

  I wanted to know what she would say, but it was too late to ask. Leiflo was speaking again. “But don't you see? Her rule is at an end.” He waved away what the effects of “Song” might bring. “Surely if the strongest leader is gone, they cannot keep up the pretense of ruling the South World!”

  “There is cause to worry, though, if these rulers are powerful enough to terminate the rule of their strongest leader, the one who started it all. They are strong enough to continue without her,” Tilyon objected.

  I felt the fear again and suddenly thought of the thundering and the horrible stillness afterward. I drew a shuddering breath, and instantly Luthín was there, rubbing my back. “What else? What other news do you bring?” she asked, steering them away from the dangerous conversation.

  Leiflo leaned in eagerly and looked from Tilyon to Luthín. “There is going to be a council. They will meet again, and Tremlore specifically asked me to request you to be there.”

  I could tell this meant something for my guardians; I could feel Luthín grow still. She and Tilyon were drifting towards each other inwardly, questions were popping up in their heads, dying to be asked and answered. “What does this mean?” Luthín's voice was almost begging.

  “I am not sure. He said nothing about lifting the self-induced banishment; he only requested your presence. You are wise and important; we have missed your input in planning our next course of action.”

  “We shall consider the request.” Tilyon tried to be calm, but I could see the rapt expressions on my guardians' faces and thoughts sprang into my mind.

  “When does the council meet?” asked Luthín.

  “The next full moon. You have time to think it over, decide, and travel.” He looked at me. His expression was not unwelcoming, but I stood and walked softly away, out to my usual wanderings.

  ***

  Five years might not be so much time to live in one place, but I was comfortable and free, kept safe by love and protection, or so I assumed. The cave, the mountain, the waterfall, and the forest were all symbols of protection and did not intend to leave. The strange Jesnidrain and the ideas he sprouted and suggested indicated change, an unwelcome variation. What really worried me was the part about the "self-induced banishment," and the fact that, should my guardians choose to return, I would be on my own. It came clearly to me what the first argument had been about five years ago. It was me, and if the Green People would allow me, a mortal, in their midst. Clearly, the answer had been “no,” and that was not apt to change. This is why I enjoyed my solitary existence; no one seemed to know much about me, and I wanted to keep it that way. I wanted to remain hidden and detached. Although the world appeared to be rising to a better situation with the demise of Magdela the Monrage, I could not be sure, and I did not care. I was already fed up with the world and what it ha
d to offer: fear, death, and destruction.

  I went off to look for Mok; he would know what to say and think of all this. Before I knew it, I was running down the grassy hill towards the waterfall. Mok met me there every day or found me before I went dashing off into the woods. As I neared the falls and saw my familiar ledge, I found myself shouting, "Mok! Mok! I have news!" I echoed the Jesnidrain in my shout, although there was no joy in my voice.

  Mok was already on the ledge, carefully cracking an acorn and spitting the shell into the churning waters. His tail flickered to let me know he heard me. “So you finally appear. Come tell me what you have heard,” he said, starting to nibble away on the meaty insides of the acorn.

  “Magdela the Monrage is gone,” I started, sliding down the bank to collapse on the ledge. “And a horse and a strange person are at the cave. They are taking them away to a council.” My tongue had a difficult time around the unfamiliar word. “Or something. They are going to leave me, and there was something about strong leaders taking over the world!”

  In my excitement, I butchered the story, but Mok had more sense than to believe every word I said. “So you have heard,” he said and took a pause from eating his nut. “Yes, Magdela the Monrage is gone. I heard news of the coming of the White Steed and Jesnidrain; they dwell with the Green People. And I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that Luthín and Tilyon will never leave you. They may consider what has been requested of them, and you might journey with them, but they won't leave you to return to the life lived by the Iaen.”

  “How do you know?” I asked, already feeling greatly relieved.

  “We are White Steeds. We do not give up or forsake one another. Our duty is to look out for each other. We find out what is best and take that course. You are in the right hands.”

  I felt quite comforted, so much so that I stood up. “Can we go to the forest and collect acorns? I'm hungry.”

  Mok almost choked on his acorn at this abrupt change of subject. Immediately, he leaped above me and set off at a dead run across the grass towards the woods. I laughed at the blur he created, and at a slower pace, I set off in search of him. My worries about leaving my safe haven were dispatched.

  ***

  The strangers left after three days, three days of much talking and me hiding away in the woods with either Mok or Whryling. On the last day, Mok joined those in the cave and waved farewell as Longstride set out with Leiflo on his back. They were there one moment and then vanished into white. Luthín stood with a hand on my shoulder as we watched them leave that early morning before the muted sunrays had time to take shape.

  “How did Longstride climb up our mountain?” she asked.

  “The secret passages,” Tilyon replied.

  I saw their hands were locked tightly together. They seemed to be one person living in two bodies; they simply were in tune with each other to a magical degree. I wondered if I would ever meet one to share that tight of a bond with. A bond where love would mean more than the world being torn apart or a self-induced banishment. A bond where offspring did not matter, but the protection of a mortal was more important than obeying the narrow-minded wishes of a ruler. Their love was unreserved, with every gesture, every faint movement, and every intense look into each other's eyes I saw and yet I did not understand. I was not meant to because there is nothing like the Iaen (as Mok later told me was the correct term instead of “wild thing”) and the way they love. They take love literally, and death cannot even come between them.

  Soon after the departure of the strangers, I went out to play. Whryling seemed tiresome, with her lack of knowledge and foolish choices. Restless I drifted back to the cave, and peeping into the bushes, I saw Luthín, Tilyon, and Mok with their heads together, deep in a murmured conversation. I did not think anything of it, and I did not stay to eavesdrop. I simply went to wander down old trails in the forest and lose myself in the daydreams of the leaves and the soft whispers of the wind above me. I met other woodland friends: squirrels, other chipmunks, a few mice, and a lone possum. We went off and had ourselves a feast with what bounty we collected from the forest. I never missed eating meat. I was quite used to my meals of vegetables, nuts, roots, sometimes fruits, and other strange substances my guardians collected and fed me. Maybe I wasn't missing anything though.

  It took longer than usual for Luthín to find me. The sun was almost completely gone and I was starting to fall asleep listening to the mice prattle when she stepped out of the woods and extended a hand to me. "Come, Myran, it's time to go home." As I placed my hand in hers, she held on gently, as if she did not want to hurt me.

  ***

  “Mok!” I called, looking for my old friend. It was a few days later, and all had gone on as normal. It was almost easy to forget the strangers and the news they had foretold; all that was pushed aside like a bad dream. As usual, I ran down to the waterfall with a couple of unusually large nuts in hand as a present. “Mok!” I called again, “I have treasure for you!”

  When I arrived at the ledge, I saw his claw prints against the wet rock. So he had been there. I looked around for him; it was hard to shout over the roar of the falls. Suddenly I saw a flick of a poor excuse for a tail, and there was Mok. He jumped off the bank and landed beside me, sniffing to figure out what I held in my hands. “Myran,” he began, but I cut him off.

  “Look, nuts!” I exclaimed, quite proud of myself.

  “Keep them,” he said kindly. “Those shall be your treasures. Keep them to remember,” he sounded rushed and hurried.

  “To remember what?” I asked.

  He only looked at me with his small eyes perfectly round and black. He sat up and rubbed his paws together. “Remember…” he started, and then he changed tracks. “Myran, you are a small flame, from you will come fire.”

  And then he was gone, running around the waterfall, racing as if trying to become like the water. He was a blur before my eyes, and then he was gone, leaving only a trace of his last words. “Mok!” I called, not fully understanding.

  Then it came to me: maybe he was following the waterfall to find out where it would lead him. Either way, it was away from our peaceful world and me. I dropped the acorns and started running beside the waterfall. It was a headlong, downhill dash, and I did not think about at all, nor the trees or the branches lashing out at me, nor the bushes I stumbled over, nor the roots that sent me flying and crashing. Nothing stopped my impulsive movement; everything tried to hinder it. I was fighting a losing battle, one that I did not recognize. I did not know to sit down and think and cry until then the stars were piercing the thin night sky. I was alone in the world. Another one I loved was snatched away from me, voluntarily this time.

  When it became too late for anything else, I collapsed onto the receiving ground, sobbing, and when the river of my tears ceased and turned into a trickle, Tilyon appeared. This time, it was he who picked me up, and he who carried me back home.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Fifteen

  915 was the year I turned fifteen. I had another five years of a carefree life, characterized by songs and the woods. There were bigger things that happened that year, such as the impending war in the Eastern World, and tales of their battles and heroes that slowly drifted back to us over the course of the next five years. These stories were slight reminders there were greater, more important things going on in the world, larger than my life anyway.

  For a time after Mok left, the world seemed dark again. The year after that, Luthín had the creatures of the wood watch over me for two weeks. She and Tilyon traveled and when returned, they seemed more real, closer, and altogether wilder. Occasionally I heard them speaking the musical language. Late at night, they would leave the cave, and sometimes I heard them singing wild songs in the moonlight. As strange as they were, they also seemed closer to me. Luthín started to become my friend and did not leave me so much to my daily wanderings in the woods. So as my guardians' sorrow departed, so my melancholy and fear seemed a thing of the past. As the wint
er melted away and spring sprung forth into new life, I did a daring thing. I began to call my guardians by name, and tall, wild, wise, immortal Green People that they were, they did not rebuff me.

  I woke one spring morning on my soft bed of leaves and moss held together by twigs and branches, remade once a week or more often, or so I assumed. Maybe the plants grew and replenished themselves. Sometimes I thought I saw Luthín watering my bed, but maybe I imagined it. I stretched as I rose, and Luthín walked in as if she knew the exact moment I would rise. She carried a long forest green dress on one arm. “Aye, look, I think you are fully grown now. Here.” She handed me the dress.

  I held up her detailed handiwork for a minute. The gown was smooth like silk and rippled and flowed almost to my feet. Its long sleeves were loose, and it seemed to shine a million sheens of green. I put it on and felt how Luthín always looked young, wild, and beautiful. Luthín smiled and then quickly and deftly pulled two strands of hair back and braided them among the rest of my long, brown, loose hair. Then she spun me around. “This is how we always did it,” she hummed, “when I was young. I was only a child, and the Idrains called us, every single one of us. The call was not just the song in our hearts, begging to be released through song and dance. It was something deeper in the ground, pulling us all together night after night and pulling the universe into our song and dance. And when the sun rose, its brilliance marring our dance fires and slowing the pace of our feet, we sang away into our private worlds, where the celebration continued anon. It was always this way, and it always will be. We Green People only recently joined in this celebration when we migrated from the Western World in 762. It was long before I was born anyway, but we finally realized the joys of being joined with all the other Idrains and what being one with our kind meant.”