Mythas' Return: The Lost Princess

Chapter Thirty Nine: The Veil of Sunlight

Chapter Thirty Nine: The Veil of Sunlight

Tiam sat alongside Pelleas' body as it melted on the connecting shores of the Divine Ocean and Mortal Sea. The king was careful as he ground a mixture of dragon's anise blossoms, tundra ginger and sprigs of seacave weeds; he used the grit of dried salt that had caked to the walls of a nearly dry tidepool, pulverizing the herbs until they made up a fine paste. He dribbled spring water in to thin the poultice into a syrupy liquid, then pricking his index finger atop his own horn, allowing three drops of blood to top off the mixture. This is what Ciqa had shown him in her vision just after her death; he watched his mother perform the ritual from an omniscient view - she was careful not to mix her bitter tears into the liquid, for fear it would ruin the ratio.

The Glittering King approached Pelleas, who lay limp in the sand - his skin pale and lips a dark blue, his eyes were sunken and tired; Tiam carefully tilted the elf's head backward and cupped the ritual's drink into his mouth, massaging his throat in an attempt to help him to swallow it. The faun took a deep breath, hoisting the fallen archer into his arms once more and treading across the damp shoreline, leaving deep hoof marks in the ash colored sand as he made his way out into the briny swells. The water was cold at first, but the deeper Tiam found himself, the less it seemed to bother him; he felt Pelleas' skin soften to the touch as the ocean began to melt his frostbitten muscles.

Tiam allowed the elf to float on his back, gently pushing him further out into the sea with his delicate palms barely touching Pelleas' spine. The king watched as the blood that had long stained the archer's garments began to melt away in the choppy waves, like rust that had been washed away from an antique sword. A hint of hope snuck into the back of Tiam's throat but he was quick to swallow it, forcing it down into his heavy gut that felt as if it were full of stones - his worries outweighed anything else.

For the first time in what felt like years, the king spoke in his faunish tongue - a language that sometimes felt foreign to his own mouth.

"Hymne...grandurack...formeline..." he mumbled from deep within. It meant, 'sing again, feel your breath, take it back.' Tiam furrowed his silver brows and focused on his own breathing, for he knew what his sacrifice would be, but it would not come until later - there was much more to recite.

"Vin fledgen...dramar mir adorna...sor mendra." Tiam declared, taking his dominant hand and placing it over Pelleas' damp chest that lay beneath his wet tunic that stuck to his still cold skin. 'You have flown away from me, my beloved, soared beyond my reach.'

The king took a deep breath as he recalled the next piece of the ritual, where he would call upon the gods themselves. "Miran hymne, gan...miran cor vonabus...ahn dextren pathorgh." He looked to Pelleas with a glint of softness in his pewter stare as he said words that the elf would not recognize if he were awake. 'I sing to you now, I call to your soul, and to the court of our gods.'

Tiam turned his face to the sky as the sun began to set, leaving a stain of orange that streaked through the otherwise dusky horizon. His voice bellowed, now, for he spoke directly to the gods, "Hruah miran! Torgan vach russomol, vin! Vasdro mach laden!" This roughly translated to, 'Hear me! Those who have cursed my people, you! Heed my prayers!'

Tears began to stream down the faun's cheeks as he continued, "Vin! Vin a mustrol, gabar! Mir adorna, mir viendi...viendi sor Fiel, sor Iliran, sor Lokvaar, sor Davret! Sor mir grata, Mythas! Sor miran! Yeandish...yeandish, frongus Pelleas cor adan!" The king accused the gods and begged, 'You! You have stolen, again! My love, my friend...friend of Fiel, of Iliran, of Lokvaar, of Davret. Of my sister, Mythas! Of me! Please, please...give Pelleas back to us!"

"Gan, mav....mav bethrin mir corresol..." Tiam offered, he said 'Now, I...I give my sacrifice."

The Glittering King dragged his hand away from Pelleas' chest, touching it to his own - which lay bare against the looming sunset, his heart sat and beat close to his skin as he prepared his next words carefully. He felt a weight lifting from his neck, and a chill dance along his shoulder blades before scraping down his back and legs - he knew the gods watched him now. "Tahn...tahn mir mehbahli! Mir kan sor undeva! Tahn ba...icha morri sor veer Pelleas!" Tiam shouted angrily, 'Take...take my magicka! My healing touch! Take it...in place of Pelleas' life!"