Chapter 3

Talia may have wished to walk, but Alilia had no such patience. Without even a hummed note, she Translocated them all to Yazadril’s clearing of contemplation, where they appeared on the grass about six feet in front of Markee.

Who yelled and fell backward off the log as his hands slapped onto his face.

“Markee! What’s wrong?” Yazadril asked in confusion as he and Hilsith rushed to the boy’s side.

“You startled the life out of me! And that light! It’s blinding! It’s like looking into the sun!” Markee complained.

He sat up with a hand across his eyes, and looked at Yazadril through a slit between two fingers. “I’ll be okay as soon as the spots are gone from in front of my eyes. As long as I don’t look over there.” he said as he pointed to the rest of the group.

“Does it hurt? Did the light cause your eyes to feel physical pain?” Hilsith asked.

“No, it’s just too bright to look at!” Markee reported. “What is it?”

“Ah. I imagine that Alilia is the source of much of the light.” Yazadril told him. “You see my power as a glow, but over half of my people have more raw power than I, while Nemia, Talia and Theramin are our strongest wizards. And as I told you, Alilia is exceptional in that regard.”

“Alilia, is it possible to hold less power, or to limit its ... its leakage, for want of a better term?” Hilsith asked as she rejoined the group.

“No, and no.” Alilia said, and snorted. “Leakage. That term would be very humorous, in any other circumstance. But perhaps there is something I can do. There. Does that help you, young man?”

“No, sorry.”

“Ah. And now?”

“Yes, that worked, though the rest of you are almost painfully bright as well.” Markee told her as he cautiously removed his hand from his eyes and looked toward the group. And gaped.

“I’m curious as to what you did just now.” Yazadril said to Alilia.

“You are always curious.” Alilia stated, and actually showed a small smile. “First I cast Battle Shield, a blocking spell. It forms a sphere about me that protects me from magical attack. When that didn’t work, I reversed its effect, preventing my leakage, as you put it, from escaping beyond it.”

“Brilliant!” Yazadril smiled.

“Perhaps not. It seems to be having a mesmerizing effect on your young human.” Alilia pointed out.

“What?” Yazadril said as he turned back to Markee, who was staring at the group with his mouth open. “Markee? Are you all right?”

“What? Oh, yes, I’m fine.” Markee stated, as he continued staring.

“It is not Alilia’s inverted shield that is mesmerizing him.” Hilsith giggled.

“No.” Markee said as he tore his eyes away from the group. “It’s ... Ah, how can I say this courteously? I mean ... Are all the ladies of your people this beautiful? For if they are, I’ll never be able to concentrate on learning anything!”

Even with all the other emotions that Alilia, Nemia and Hilsith were feeling, Markee’s obviously unfeigned and deeply affected admiration for their beauty touched their feminine hearts. All three could not help but smile a little, even Alilia, and Nemia and Hilsith actually blushed a bit!

“Are they all so beautiful?” Theramin mused as he suppressed a grin. “Yes, my boy, they truly are.”

“Thank you Markee, you are truly kind.” Nemia said as her smile grew a bit. “As are you, Theramin.”

Talia had been hiding behind her mother and Dilimon; unable to face the man she now felt to be her master. She chose this moment to shyly step into view, her arms by her sides, her head bowed. After a long moment she found the courage to meet his gaze.

Markee’s jaw had dropped in amazement. His eyes were wide, and shining a bit with moisture, as if whatever he was feeling was so powerful it had almost moved him to tears.

Yazadril looked to Talia, who was staring back at Markee with an indescribable expression. There was a gentle breeze blowing, and it was having the designed effect on her garment.

“I knew it.” Talia murmured. “The poor boy finds me repulsive.”

“What? No!” Markee protested. “I mean ... You’re ... I never thought I would ever see anything so beautiful in my life! You are so pretty and ... enticing ... I...”

He suddenly became aware that he was staring, and dropped his eyes. “Please ... Please forgive my rudeness. I was ... caught by surprise, that’s all.” he stammered as he rose from the ground and sat back down on the log. He squinted as he looked at the group. “You know, the rest of you are still painfully bright, especially with you all standing in a bunch like that. Could I ask you to all move away from each other a couple of feet?”

They complied with his request.

“Thanks. Yazadril, I really wish you’d given me a chance to get cleaned up before you brought me visitors.”

“I’m sorry about that, Markee, but ... there have been ... developments.” Yazadril hesitantly told him as he moved around the log to stand between the young man and the group, and to one side. He had to swallow hard before he could continue. “They are difficult to speak of. It will be easier, and more informative for you, if I simply show you what has happened.

“But first, introductions. Markee, this is...”

“Excuse me Yazadril.” The young man said as he stood.

His full stature was so imposing that Hilsith and Nemia both stepped back a bit. The young man sadly shook his head at this, then continued, looking to the ancient elf as he did.

“I’ve thought a lot about what you said, about taking responsibility as an adult now. My name’s really not Markee. I was named after my father, and since we have the same name, everyone called me Markee. It’s a child’s nickname, and I guess it’s time I stopped being a child.”

He turned to the waiting group. “I am Markhan Reginus Longstrider, of Shinosa Valley, an invested Ranger of the Northern Forests, and a loyal subject of King Wittan of Finitra.” And with that he executed as courtly a bow as Yazadril had ever seen performed in the palaces of the great empires, sinking gracefully to his left knee as his right arm swept out and across to finish with his head bowed and his right palm over his heart. He held the pose for a short moment, then smoothly rose as he stated: “I am entirely at your service.”

He allowed himself a tiny, smug smile at their surprise at this performance.

“I have made a horrible mistake.” Alilia stated calmly. Though she maintained control of her expression, tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.

“Yes. Ah, be that as it may...” Yazadril stammered, and shook his head a bit while he regained his mental balance. “So, would you prefer we call you Markhan, or Master Longstrider?”

“Master...” Talia murmured, and shuddered as she stared.

The confused young man glanced back and forth between Alilia and Talia, both of whom were looking at him with peculiar intensity. “There’s something very strange going on here, isn’t there?” he asked as he turned back to Yazadril, his brows knitting a bit.

“Yes there is, but we’ll get to that in a moment.” Yazadril nodded. “So, in answer to my question? Shall we call you Markhan?”

“No, that will always be my father’s name, not mine. I think I’d like you to call me Mark. That’s what they call my grandfather, I’m told, and he has the same name.”

“Ah. Mark.” Yazadril nodded. “So you are actually Markhan Reginus Longstrider the Third?”

“The Fifth, actually, if you choose to word it that way.” Mark said. “My grandfather’s grandfather was the first of that name, and now it’s a family tradition for every firstborn son.”

“Ah. Well, you have already met Theramin, senior horticultural wizard of the High People, and Dilimon, Second Captain of our Sentry Corps. This is Hilsith, a Healer of great renown who comes to us from the northern elves of The Warm People.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Mark said as he gave her a polite bow.

“And I you.” Hilsith replied with a small smile as she returned the bow.

“This is the Princess Alilia of the People of Life, of whom I’ve spoken.” Yazadril continued.

“Do not bow to me.” Alilia said to Mark before he could do so.

“All right, though I’m pleased to meet you.” Mark said in puzzlement. “May I ask why I should not bow?”

“Because I have done you an injustice. If you bow to me, you will regret having done so when you learn what has occurred.” Alilia told him, her voice brittle.

This left Mark with no response, and Yazadril hurried to fill the awkward lull in the conversation. “This is my wife Nemia.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Mark said with a bow, which Nemia returned.

“And this is my daughter Talia.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Markee bowed with a broad smile. “Yazadril has spoken fondly of your mother and yourself. And your sister of course. How is she?”

“She is dead.” Talia stated quietly. She finally managed to tear her gaze away from his face as he gaped in shock, and she turned into her mother’s arms as she burst into tears. Soon they were both sobbing sadly.

“I’m sorry ... I’m so sorry, I didn’t know...” Mark stammered, ashamed at his unintended insensitivity.

“There’s no way you could have known.” Yazadril told him sadly, and wiped his own fresh tears away.

“How did it happen?” Mark asked, then wondered if the question was inappropriate. “No, I’m sorry, it’s none of my concern...”

“Actually, I’m afraid it is.” Yazadril told him sadly. “And as I said previously, there are matters that are difficult to speak of...”

“Perhaps for you.” Alilia interrupted bitterly, then turned from Yazadril to Mark. “Sit down, it is irritating to have to look up that far. I will tell you what has happened.”

She continued as Mark abruptly sat. “My son Bezedil arrived here yesterday, and quickly fell in love with Yazadril’s daughter Dalia. Twin sister to that one, and nearly perfectly identical to her in appearance.”

She pointed at Talia without looking away from Mark, and continued. “Then, while Dalia was out of the room, Talia came to Bezedil and passed herself off to him as her sister. Dalia returned to the room and found Bezedil and Talia consummating. Dalia was so struck by what she saw as their betrayal that she committed suicide by leaping from a high window. Realizing his mistake, and filled with remorse for what he’d done, my son leaped after her to save her. He was too late, and upon seeing her die from impact with the ground, he was so filled with grief and despair that he did not save himself.

“When I learned this...”

“That is not what happened.” Talia interrupted, quietly but firmly.

Alilia’s head whipped around in surprise as she looked to Talia, then her face contorted with rage. “How dare you say that! All was revealed in my son’s last Reading, as his life was fading from his broken body before my eyes!”

Tears flowed freely down Talia’s cheeks, but her jaw was set with determination. She swallowed hard as she was held by Alilia’s gaze. “It did not happen like that. You made me see the Reading as well. You made me see Dalia die. But you did not see what happened before that. You hate me, so you will not believe what I say, and I ... I cannot speak of it. So Read me. Read me so that all can know what really happened.”

“If you are innocent, why did you not declare it so yesterday?!” Alilia demanded.

“There was nothing but grief and pain in me then, overwhelming all else.” Talia stated quietly. “The twin of my soul and my destined love were both dead, and I wanted only to die. I was not listening to anything that was said. I did not care what you did to me.”

“And now you do.” Alilia stated frostily.

“I still do not care what happens to me for my own sake, and it would not matter if I did.” Talia told her, struggling to control her voice. “You have damned me for eternity, and that is all there is to that. But I have regained my thinking enough to consider my parents’ feelings, and they should know that it did not happen as you think it did. Furthermore, Mark will need to know the truth.”

“If you can bear it, we must perform the Reading, Yazadril.” Theramin quietly pointed out before Alilia could retort. “It is her right to defend herself.”

“Ah. It is too late to consider rule of law.” Nemia stated calmly. “And it is too early. We must concentrate on minimizing the harm that has been done, and on preventing any more harm to ourselves or to each other. After that is done, we will deal with legality and diplomacy.”

“You will perform the Reading, or I will, and less competently than you could have done it.” Alilia stated coldly. “But we will know the truth.”

“Uh, if you don’t mind my asking, what does a Reading do?” Mark asked, hesitant to interject, yet driven by his need to understand what was happening.

“It allows the caster to experience some of the memories or thoughts of the person it is cast upon.” Yazadril explained. “In this case, I will cast a variation of it that will read a specific segment of Talia’s memory, rather than her present thoughts, and transmit those memories to the rest of you. We will experience them with all of our senses as if we were reliving our own memories, complete with every thought and emotion that Talia experienced at the time.”

“Oh. And uh, will it work for me?” Mark hesitantly asked. “You said that this affects me, and I’d really like to understand what’s going on.

“No, now that you mention it.” Yazadril admitted. “It is unlikely that you could receive the Reading. Let me think. I could re-cast the vision of the Reading as an Illusion. You wouldn’t be able to see it, since you didn’t see the Illusions of the Wards, but I could use the Illusion as the pattern for a Light spell. Nemia brought some white cloth in her tailor’s pack, and if we stood in the shade of the trees and I projected the light pattern upon the cloth, you should be able to see what we are seeing.”

“And a very complex piece of work it will be, Yazadril.” Theramin said. “Performing the Reading, casting it to us, casting the Illusion of it, and casting the Light projection of it. Only you could do it. However, it still only conveys the visual component of the Reading to Mark, here. I will assist by casting Sound of the audible component.”

“And I will simply relate Talia’s thoughts and emotions verbally, and translate those and the spoken words into your language, Mark.” Nemia nodded, moving to stand next to him. “You will still lack the components of touch, scent and taste, but those are less important, and I can tell you of any important evidence of those natures that occurs in the Reading.

“Theramin, you will have to keep your Sound casting quiet enough that Mark can hear both your casting and my spoken translation of it.”

“Thank you. I appreciate everything you’re doing to include me in this.” Mark solemnly said.

“Fine. Let us have it done, then.” Alilia snapped as she turned on her heel and strode to the nearest edge of the clearing.

The rest followed, and Nemia took a folded white cloth from her basket. Once under the canopy of the trees, she unfolded it to a ten-foot square and Levitated herself to pin it’s upper corners to two branches, so that it hung with it’s lower edge touching the grass.

“Thank you Nemia.” Yazadril said as he moved to face the center of the cloth. “Theramin, let me Read you for a moment while you watch me, would you?” he asked.

Theramin nodded, and Yazadril hummed a short arpeggio and did so, nodding when he had a firm Reading.

“Shared Reading, first test.” Yazadril stated, and clapped his hands three times. “Thank you, Theramin.” he said, and mentally reviewed his spells. He hummed a short melody and cast an Illusion of himself near the cloth. The elves present saw a duplicate Yazadril standing before the cloth. He cast Light upon the cloth, then gradually linked it to the illusion of himself that his eyes were seeing. It gave him a strange double vision of his own image until he had the two perfectly synchronized.

“Tell me what you see, Mark.” he said, as his brow furrowed in concentration.

“There was a big round white light on the cloth, and then it changed, and now there’s a picture of you, from the front!” Mark explained in amazement.

“Good.” Yazadril nodded. “Now I’ll release the Illusion, and it will go back to white light.

“Theramin, I’ll send you the Reading I took of you watching me, while using it as the basis of the Illusion and the Light spell, and you will cast the sound of it, please.”

“Mark, you should next see a picture of me saying; shared Reading, first test, and clapping my hands, just as I did a moment ago, and you should hear me say it and the sound of the clapping, as well.

Theramin’s face set in firm concentration, matching Yazadril’s expression as they cast.

“It works! I can see it and hear it!” Mark told them excitedly.

“Good. It gives me a disorienting triple vision, but it will work” Yazadril stated, a little tensely.

“Well done.” Alilia was forced to admit.

“It gives me quadruple vision.” Theramin stated as he let his spells fade and shook his head a bit. “I see you, Yazadril, and I see you in the Reading, and I see the Illusion of you, and I see the Light projection of you. Thankfully, it will be less complex when we do Talia’s Reading.”

“Indeed.” Yazadril nodded as he turned to his daughter. “I will hold the first moment of the Reading until I have my four spells stabilized, and Theramin has his Sound casting ready. Try to be brave, my child. This will be very painful for all of us.”

“I ... I know it will, Father.” Talia quietly agreed. “You should begin the Reading at the moment Bezedil arrived. And end it where Bezedil’s Reading began. You already know what happened after that.”

“But Mark does not.” Yazadril gently pointed out. Talia hesitated, then nodded, and Yazadril gave her a supportive embrace. “All right then. We begin.” With that, he placed his hands gently on the sides of her bowed head, and closed his eyed in concentration.

The light on the cloth changed to a view of the interior of Yazadril’s central room, as seen from the doorway into the kitchen. In it, Yazadril faced Bezedil, who was still holding his palm to the top of Alilia’s dark wood chest, beside Alilia, though the elves present knew it was only her Projection. Arrayed around them were Nemia and the rest of the senior wizards, not all of them close enough to see in the viewing. The moment was frozen, and none of the figures moved.

“Talia feels love at first sight for Bezedil.” Nemia stated quietly. “Her heart races, her throat is constricting so she can hardly breathe, and she thrills to the sight of him. She is aware of her sister Dalia standing to her left, who is leaning close to speak privately.”

“I am ready, Yazadril.” Theramin said.

The scene took on motion, and over the other sounds in the room, Dalia’s voice was heard speaking a melodic language Mark had never heard before. Nemia’s translation came a heartbeat after the spoken words, and with her commentary, Mark was given an understanding almost as complete as that of the elves as the scene unfolded.

“Look at him! He is delicious!” Dalia giggled.

“He is my destined love!” Talia quietly exclaimed her realization.

“Ha! There is no destined love, you silly squirrel, as I have told you many times before!” Dalia laughed. “Love is where you find it! Three times before you have thought that a cute new boy was your destined love! And all three times I have been a dutiful sister, and stood patiently aside when I could have been enjoying his pleasures, while you mooned over him for weeks! And then of course, you finally decide that he is not your destined love after all, though I know not how you could decide such a thing without even sharing your virgin body!

“Well, I am afraid I will not be so generous this time, dear Talia! This one is too scrumptious to pass up, and I will be enjoying him by this afternoon, you can be sure of it!”

“No, you do not understand!” Talia blurted excitedly. “Those other times I thought that those boys might be my destined love, but this time I am absolutely sure of it! More sure of it than I have ever been of anything in my life before! Bezedil is my destined love! I have seen him in my dreams, Dalia, I swear that I have, though I did not remember those dreams until now!”

“Well he is no virgin, I can tell that just by looking at him!” Dalia teased. “So I will not be despoiling him with my pleasure, and you can have him when I am done with him! Besides, the way my heart races to look upon him, I may fall in love with him myself!”

“No! Please, Dalia! I tell you he is truly my destined love!”

“Well then, just walk right over there and tell him so! If you cannot overcome your shyness to save him from my caresses, perhaps he is not your destined love after all!”

Talia gazed at Bezedil, overcome with longing for him, yet the thought of just walking over and speaking with him filled her with overwhelming timidness. “Please Dalia, just give me a few moments! You know how I am!”

“To the bold goes the prize then!” Dalia laughed. “I am sorry, sister of mine. You can go first the next time.”

A moment later Yazadril had finished introducing his wife and the wizards to Bezedil, and Dalia approached them, while Talia stood helplessly.

“You!” Bezedil exclaimed upon spying her.

“My fame precedes me!” Dalia laughed, performing a graceful curtsy.

As she rose, Bezedil gently took her hand, bowed low over it, and gently kissed it.

“Ahh, Bezedil, I present my daughter Dalia. Dalia, this is Alilia’s son Bezedil.” Yazadril said, a bit uncomfortable with the intensity with which the two were gazing into each other’s eyes.

“Come. I will show you my room.” Dalia said, her smile bright and her eyes glinting as she took his hand and led him away.

Talia could not help but discretely follow as far as the entrance to the hall, and once Dalia’s door shut behind them she could not help but move to it, her heart crushed within her. A few moments later she heard Dalia giggle through the door, then speak.

“My! You waste no time, do you, my handsome steed?” Dalia laughed.

“I have waited too long already!” Bezedil chuckled in return.

A few minutes later Talia heard her sister’s rising sounds of passion, and she collapsed to the floor and quietly cried.

Under the edge of the trees, her back to Mark and the elves monitoring the Reading, Talia gave a choked sob and tearfully spoke:

“I should not have eavesdropped. I knew it was wrong, but I could not help myself. I could hear them as they made love for the next forty-five minutes, and I assure you that nothing else happened or was said during that time. May we move the Reading ahead, past that time, please?”

“That would be best.” Alilia nodded, barely able to speak.

“All right.” Yazadril quietly agreed, and he let the light and the illusion fade. “I’ve already taken the entire Reading from Talia, so that I could have more concentration available to display it. I’ll quickly skip forward to the next actions or spoken words, and we’ll continue from there.”

He closed his eyes and his brow furrowed for a moment. “Ah. Here it is. If you are ready, Theramin, we will continue.”

At Theramin’s nod, the review of the Reading resumed.

It revealed that Talia lay curled on her side on the floor of the hallway, quietly weeping, and her heart felt like poisoned rot within her.

“Oh! Oh Bezedil, a pause, please, give me a pause!” Dalia was heard to gasp behind the closed bedroom door. “Your passion has exhausted me! I must recover before I can sustain even another moment of pleasure!”

“As you wish, my love, always.” Bezedil chuckled.

“My love.” Dalia said in wonder, and it was unclear whether she addressed Bezedil thusly, or merely repeated his words, marveling that he should speak them to her.

“Oh Bezedil! I have never experienced anything as incredible in my life! My sweet Lords and Ladies, but you are a masterful and inexhaustible pleasurist!”

“I have heard that it is infinitely better with the one who is your destined love.” Bezedil quietly declared. “And now we have some proof of the truth of that!”

“Not you too! You sound like my parents and my sister!” Dalia laughed. “There is no such thing as destined love! Love is where you find it! And perhaps we have found it!”

“How can you say that, you of all people?!” Bezedil teased. “I assure you my dear, destined love is a factually proven phenomenon! I have seen you in my dreams with ever increasing frequency for the last three months, and so I have researched the phenomenon with great rigor! I knew that we would soon meet; there was no doubt! Come, you must admit that you have also dreamt of me, for it could not be otherwise!”

There was a very long moment of silence.

On the floor in the hallway, Talia’s heart slammed up into her throat and almost choked her completely.

“Dalia? Is something wrong?” Bezedil asked in concern.

“I ... I must use the privacy!” Dalia blurted, and as her footsteps were heard lightly running to her bedroom door, Talia quickly rose and slipped into her own bedroom.

She had no time to close her door before Dalia emerged into the hallway, still belting her robe, but Dalia took no notice as she quickly moved a few steps down the hall in the opposite direction and entered her mother’s study, which she knew would be empty, as her parent’s voices could be faintly heard from the direction of the central room.

Talia’s heart pounded in her ears so loudly that she thought it might deafen her. ‘Dalia now knows that Bezedil is my destined love! I dreamt of him, as he knew I would! She will tell him! She must tell him!’ Talia thought, the realization filling her with a shining elation, and a blazing hope.

But long minutes passed, and Dalia remained behind the closed door of the study. Talia was increasingly drawn to go to Bezedil, who waited alone in the next room; to reveal to him that she, Talia, was the one who was his destined love, to feel his arms around her, to feel the fulfillment of him, to give herself to him completely, as she had never given of herself before.

Yet at the same time, her shyness rose again within her, and she knew it for what it was; fear of embarrassing and humiliating herself by saying or doing something stupid and inappropriate, and fear of rejection. She prayed that Dalia would return and reveal the truth, but the long moments passed as slowly as the seasons, and still the study door remained closed.

Finally Talia’s need to go to Bezedil drove her forth, and she silently padded from her room to Dalia’s door. She tried to bring herself to tap upon it, to no avail. Then she caught the powerful scent of Bezedil’s passion, mixed with Dalia’s more familiar one, and she noticed that the door was opened a crack.

Seemingly of it’s own volition, her hand slowly pushed the door open enough for her to slip silently into the darkened room from the dim hallway.

Bezedil stood naked with his back to her, peering through a crack between the closed curtains of the open window near the bed, admiring the view while impatiently waiting.

Talia tried to speak his name, but her mouth seemed numbed, and she could not bring herself to speak. Silently and slowly, she closed the distance between them. Again she tried to speak and could not, and again her hand seemed to have a will of its own as it rose to caress his shoulder.

She thrilled at the touch of him, and then he quickly turned and took her in his arms as he spoke.

“Ah, my love, you were gone a long time, and still I am insatiable for you!” he chuckled.

‘No! I must tell him first!’ Talia thought in a panic, and with a wrenching effort of will, she spoke, her voice quiet and quavering. “No, wait, I am...”

But he heeded her not, and then he was kissing her fully upon her mouth, and his hands were insistently caressing her, and all thought in her mind fled before an overwhelming onslaught of emotion and sensation.

She had no strength to resist as he gently slid her garments from her body with a few skillful motions, his fiery kiss uninterrupted while he did so, and drew her down onto the bed.

Then the door opened fully and Dalia stood in the dim light of the hallway, her face stricken. Only a moment she stood there before running to leap through the curtains.

Bezedil made a quiet sound, then he scrambled from the bed and leapt after Dalia.

Talia sat on the bed for a moment, stunned. She rose and went to the window and looked out, expecting to see Dalia flying away with Bezedil close behind. She did not see them until she looked down. Incredulous grief hit her like a hammer blow as she saw their broken bodies on the ground far below. She let herself fall forward.

Yazadril let the Reading continue as Talia fell and was barely caught by Nemia, as she was forced to experience Bezedil’s last Reading, as she was punched and cursed by Alilia, bringing impossible horror and agony until Yazadril had finally forced Sleep upon her.