The Forgotten (Elements I)

Chapter 17

The last night Flynn was with the house was a stormy night. Closing the door with a sigh, Korith leant against in relief. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was glad that Flynn was gone. For some reason, the way the Isla behaved around his mentor irked him. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the images that his mind presented him with. It didn’t work, especially when he heard the elemental coming towards him.

“You’re glad he’s gone.”

Guiltily, he looked at her. “What makes you say that?”

She rolled her eyes, irritating him even more. “Your bad temper is noticeable a mile away, bachgen,” she retorted.

He glared at her, releasing his pent up anger. “What else am I supposed to do?” he snapped, his voice growing louder. “Just watch what the pair of you do?”

She stalked closer, pinning him against the door merely by her presence. “You have no idea, bachgen,” she hissed. “No idea what we’ve been through. You cannot understand any of it.”

He stared back at her, feeling himself becoming lost in her dark green gaze. With difficulty, he tore himself away. “Only because you refuse to tell me,” he retorted.

“And why should I?” She glared at him and stalked off, leaving him more confused than before. He growled to himself, and strode off to his workroom, hoping to lose his bad temper.

However, once he got there, he couldn’t help himself. He locked the door, and spotted an old box in the corner. Muttering to himself the whole time, he picked it up and threw it across the room, missing everything of value, and listened to it crash into the opposite wall in satisfaction. It smashed on the ground, and he walked over, not really intending to do anything with it. However, something caught his eye, and he picked it up, out of the remains of the box.

It was a plain book, leather bound with no decoration or title. Curious, he opened it, and leafed through it. He recognised his mentor’s handwriting, but he couldn’t make sense of the notes. They seemed to be in a code of sorts, making no sense to him. However, the next page he turned made him stare. The rest of the notebook’s pages had been glued together, and a compartment carefully cut out. In that space was a sheaf of notes, tied with a faded lightning blue ribbon. Frowning to himself, he moved to the library, to one of the window seats tucked away in a seldom visited corner, and sat down. He picked the notes out, handling them carefully as he felt how fragile they were, and undid the ribbon, coiling it neatly and placing it inside the space once more.

Settling down, he began reading the first note, and felt his eyes widen.

It’s the first time I’ve seen an elemental. I never thought they would look like that. So different to my imagination.

His eyes skipped through the pages, reading a line here and there, never the full page.

I didn’t think their job would be so hard, so complex. They work so hard to keep the balance, and we humans destroy it. There must be some way we can work together.

After that, there were a few blank pages, and he leafed through them swiftly, almost missing the last line on the last page. He came back to it, and felt his eyes widen even more as he sat there, frozen in shock.

She’s finally told me her name. It is fitting for her. Isla…

The young mage didn’t know what to do, how to react. He leafed back through the book, searching for more clues. He couldn’t find any, and he finally closed it, sighing. He had to talk to her now, had to try to get her to explain who she was.

*          *          *

Once more, I woke before the sun, uneasy from my dreams. I knew they had to be important for them to come to me, but I couldn’t understand why. With a sigh, I leant on the windowsill, closing my eyes. Almost immediately, my dream came to me again.

“Are you sure about this?”

She turned at the voice, her baby in her arms. “I am,” she replied. “It is the only way.”

The other woman’s expression was sad, and she could sense the pity and sorrow. “There is no other way?”

She shook her head, and bent it to brush her lips over the baby’s head, smoothing his soft hair. “No,” she murmured. “He must be safe. It is for the best.”

“For the best that he won’t ever know you?” the woman demanded, coming forward. “For the best that he won’t know who he is? How can you think that?”

Tears coming to her eyes, she looked up, her hold on her baby tightening. “I have no choice, Henna,” she murmured. “He must be safe.”

She saw the woman’s anger leave her, and a hand settled on her arm. “You know you can visit him, don’t you?”

She lifted a shoulder. “It depends,” she replied. “I will watch over him, though.” She turned away, leaving the woman.

As she stepped onto the green grass, she nearly hummed in pleasure. The land was healthy, and well cared for, and the hum of pleasure thrummed through her, soundless and strong. She closed her eyes momentarily, and then looked at her baby son. Tenderly, she brushed his dark hair out of his face, and began walking to the farmhouse she could see in the distance. She could feel the goodwill and peace coming from it, and knew that it was the right place.

Gently, she kissed her son’s forehead, beginning to tremble. “Whenever it rains, dear one,” she murmured. “I will be with you.”

He stirred, not quite awake, but she didn’t wait. She placed him on the doorstep, and knocked on the door before fleeing, unable to risk being seen.

I shook my head, banishing the dream. It was no use to me now. I glanced out the window, noting the storm coming, and knew, somehow, that Flynn would leave today. He had spent too long in one place, and I knew he would be aching to let his feet roam once more. It was pouring by the time he left, and despite the young mage’s protests, Flynn insisted upon leaving. I stayed nearby, watching with a slight smile. The boy knew his mentor not at all.

When I left him, I was stewing. I retreated to the library, knowing that the books would help calm my temper, and hid myself away in a corner. The crash startled me, but I thought nothing of it. He was merely having a tantrum. When I sensed him entering the library, however, I scowled, and rose, wanting to be as far away from him and his accusations as possible. I passed him as I threaded my way through the shelving, and stopped dead when I saw what he was reading.