Unforged Path

A Decision

Aerlyn was still sitting on the edge of the bed when Thalia came in with one of her wonderful concoctions, smiling a bit too broadly. After Thalia set the tray down, Aerlyn held out her hand to her friend. As the small, warm hand grasped hers, Aerlyn smiled.

"No one has ever nurtured me as well as you have, my Savior." Aerlyn enfolded Thalia's hand in hers. "Please do not worry. I will no longer endanger myself." After a pause, she added "You have graciously given me a home here. I should like to stay if you will have me." Aerlyn looked into her young friend's face. "However, I want my father to know I am safe." Tears sprang to Aerlyn's eyes again. "He needs to know."

Thalia had watched Aerlyn with solemn eyes while she spoke. Now, she placed her free hand over Aerlyn's. Closing her eyes, the girl began muttering words as yet incomprehensible to Aerlyn, energizing the magic embedded in the world.

Closing her own eyes, Aerlyn opened herself to the delicate shower of magical energy, as she had embraced the sky when experiencing her first snowfall.

'Father knows.' The thought was so calm, it almost seemed foreign. 'He knows his daughter. He will not lose hope.' Aerlyn nearly wept again, basking in the loving energy.

Magic had always been at Aerlyn's fingertips, waiting to be molded and shaped to suit her purpose, but Aerlyn had never experienced the pure beauty of formless magic. Holding dearly to Thalia's hands, Aerlyn imbibed the light and grace, newly understanding the first principle of magic.

Glimpsing the vastness of the beautiful universe, Aerlyn realized she was a mote. In folly, she had believed her power to be far greater than what it was. With hope, Aerlyn would strive to reconnect with her father, but, in this joyous moment, she accepted that fate was wild and incapable of cultivation.

                                                                                * * *

"Gods United are great," Thalia breathed, as Aerlyn finished her elvish chant and a glistening pathway appeared on the snow. Every act her elven sister performed with magic was a miracle.

Aerlyn's silver hair flowed in the wind, as she stepped onto the path. Now in optimal health, Aerlyn's skin remained almost as pale as fresh snow, but the sharp contours of her face had vanished, replaced with smoother, more elegant lines. Her cornflower blue eyes were now bright as Aerlyn smiled at Thalia and Cristoval, beckoning for them to join her on the path.

Moving deliberately in her snow shoes, Thalia approached the path, which wound up the mountainside for a league or more. Cristoval remained where he was, staring into the distance.

"You will let your little sister try it first?" Thalia called to him.

"My very capable sister can do what she likes, but these snow shoes have gotten me up this mountain safely many times," Cristoval responded. He marched forward, soon overtaking Aerlyn.

When Thalia placed her foot on the magical path, it supported her as solidly as a meadow footpath in summer. Taking another step, Thalia realized the path wasn't slick despite how it glistened. Aerlyn uttered another chant and their snow shoes disappeared.

"Where did they go?" Thalia inquired.

"At home," Aerlyn replied. Her use of their language seemed to improve every day. She pointed to Cristoval ahead of them, her eyes full of mischief.

"Yes! Let's beat him." Thalia followed Aerlyn's confident stride along the path, which seemed to ease the incline. They soon closed the gap, and Aerlyn marched by Cristoval, ignoring him. Thalia admired her self-control, for she couldn't help commenting to her brother, "It's a pleasant morning for a leisurely stroll up a mountain, isn't it?"

Her brother's face was red, his breathing labored. "Very pleasant," Cristoval huffed, unable to say more.

Giggling, Thalia left him behind. Following Aerlyn, Thalia wondered what was going to happen once they reached their destination. It had been Cristoval's idea for Aerlyn to try using magic to contact her father atop a mountain. 

He and Aerlyn seemed to share a language all their own, speaking of waves and transmitters. Using Aerlyn's magical sketches, they had explained to Thalia that waves traveled better if unimpeded, and thus, the mountains might be obstructing Aerlyn's efforts. If Aerlyn were on a mountain, it would no longer be an obstruction.

Thalia shook her head. The lessons on physics she remembered were the ones in which they built bridges to support weights or speedy crafts for racing. But perhaps Cristoval gained his knowledge about waves and such from a book. After a season at the winter cabin, he usually searched for a new scientific text when he returned to the village.

For Aerlyn's sake, Thalia hoped Cristoval's theory was correct. She prayed the Goddess of Mercy would grant Aerlyn the opportunity to hear her father's voice, but Thalia knew he would want Aerlyn to return home. He could even help her do that. 

Catching up to Aerlyn, Thalia looped her arm around her sister's slender elbow. 

Smiling down at Thalia, Aerlyn's cheeks were rosy from the cold, enhancing her silvery beauty. If Thalia had first met Aerlyn as she was now, she may have thought she was the moon goddess lost in the world of daylight.