Tales from Talandhor - r-rated

Ailen and Nywendor

A soft sound from a lone owl whispered in my ear, the wind caressing my shivering skin with its tender touch. The evening was far from cold, but the chill belonged to my heart. A lonely heart, sore from losing those who meant everything.

Two years were not enough to dampen the grief, not on this day. While everyone else raised their glasses in celebration, this day would forever hold the stale flavor of a broken promise. My mother and father had promised to return from the war, and even if it wasn't their promise to make, I hoped until the end. With one brutal strike, I had lost the family that kept me rooted in a changing world.

A twig snapped behind me, announcing a deliberate interruption.

"Ailen, you should not be alone out here."

I turned around, bowing before our leader. Taurel had a warm soul—a mother's soul. She cared when others forgot, but she also held the qualities of leadership necessary for her task. 

"Forgiveness, wise one."

Her delicate hand clasped mine. "This is a night to open your heart and your eyes."

I sighed, hoping she wouldn't hear the strained reluctance. "I will try."

It was time for me to find a partner with whom I would share my life, and she was kind enough to remind me. Her lover had a less obtuse way of expressing his opinion, demanding that I should woo the elves still unattached in the village and those beyond. He was running out of patience and quickly draining mine.

"Our guests are soon to arrive, you should join in greeting," Taurel continued, her voice just shy of commanding.

A tired smile forced itself upon my lips. "Of course, wise one." I had no other choice, regardless of my feelings. Of course, they would never force me to marry, but their worry concerning my loneliness made them work hard to prevent it.

She led the way through the forest, her quiet steps careful as they touched the ground. Instead, I caught the sounds of voices from the village, traveling between the old trees to reach us with a warm embrace. The village had been my home for sixty odd years, a short time in the eyes of an elf. Had I been a little bit older, I would have followed my parents into battle. I could have died at their side, or maybe even kept them alive. My heart carried resentment toward Taurel for keeping me locked up in the village while my loved ones fought for their lives.

"Dark thoughts are not allowed tonight, Ailen," Taurel commented, not breaking stride or looking back over her shoulder.

I disliked the way she could read my mood as if my thoughts were spoken out loud, but it was one of her many talents. It was also wrong of me to fault her for caring about me when others tried hard to ignore my grief. Most told me to forget and move on, or that time was a great healer. How wrong they were.

Embers glowed in the distance, brought by fireflies circling the clearing in their nightly dance. They kept close to us during evenings, drawn in by the spirits of Eld. On nights like this one, more of them joined as the spirits were strong. It was as if they knew the Eldafyr would pay us a visit.

The lights flickered back and forth, scattered by the undergrowth until we reached closer. As we did, scents of roasted nuts and vegetables reached through the ever-present fragrance of the breathing forest. The preparations appeared to be well on their way, and I blushed at the realization that I should have helped Eurin with the flowers. She asked me a few days ago, probably to spend some time with me alone. She tried that occasionally, never quite revealing her agenda although it was clear enough for anyone who paid attention. Indeed, she was a beautiful elf and a kind soul, but as Taurel had implied, my heart was not yet open.