The Remembered (Elements II)

Chapter 6

A few days passed before Nahara managed to get back to the flower house. Her father had needed her close, so she hadn’t been able to, but at last, she slipped away with a sigh of relief.

She found Llyr there, alone, and watched in awe as he healed a plant that looked barely alive. When he was done, he spoke, not even looking up.

“It’s been a while, Nahara.”

She jerked slightly, and came in. “Yes. Father needed me. How is everything going?”

“The garden is hard work. You’re sure about it?”

She nodded. “It’s high time,” she repeated. “Father’s neglected it for too long. I know Mother wouldn’t be happy about it.”

That drew a rare smile from the earth elemental. “Well, it’s going well. You’d be pleased, I think.”

She nodded, grateful. “Thank you, Llyr. What about Dvalin?”

He paused, dropping his gaze as he worked, clearly thinking about what he was going to say. “He’s fighting it,” he finally murmured. “You’ve been lucky so far – and only because he has no access to his powers.”

She went cold. “What’s he done?”

“Done?” Llyr gave a bark of laughter. “Nothing. But he is extremely powerful – even without his powers. You did well to put him here.”

She nodded again. “Would…” She hesitated, thinking it over. He glanced at her.

“What is it, young Nahara?”

“Would it be worth it putting him to work in the main garden?” she asked. “I don’t know what he’s like, but you do, now.”

He tilted his head slightly, studying her. “Isla told me about you,” he said, not answering her question. She blinked, surprised. “She said you were smart. However, he’s not ready for that much freedom yet. He has a ways to go yet.”

Once more, she nodded. “Alright.” She trusted his judgement. “Thank you. If, or when, you think he is ready, you can do it.”

“If you so wish, Nahara.”

“Thank you,” she said again, dipping her head to him. She turned to leave, and then changed her mind, turning back to him. “May I wander?” she asked softly.

He gazed at her, and then nodded, giving her permission. “Take your time, young one,” he said softly. “I know this place is full of memories for you.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, and slipped into the rows of plants. Most were in full bloom, filling the air with their sweet scents, just as they had when her mother had been alive. She closed her eyes momentarily, images of her mother tending the plants floating through her mind. She missed her terribly; an ache that never went away, sometimes faint, other times so strong that she didn’t know what to do. Finally, she moved on again, appreciating all the work that the elementals did with the plants.

She came to the back corner of the flower house, and came around a row to see that she’d come across Dvalin. He was side on to her, tending to some plants, and she caught her breath at the expression of peace on his face. It lasted a second before he sensed her gaze, and looked up, a scowl transforming his face.

“What do you want?” he hissed.

She took an involuntary step back before answering. “Nothing,” she said. “I was admiring the flowers.”

He snorted, clearly not believing her, and turned back to his work. Unlike Llyr, his tattoos didn’t glow, and she felt a pang. She didn’t like what her father had done, but she couldn’t change it, not now. She bit her lip, and then gathered what courage she had.

“Are you happy?” she ventured.

Again, he snorted, but other than that, didn’t respond. She frowned, and stepped forward.

“I asked you a question.”

“I know,” he replied bluntly, ignoring her. “I don’t care.”

She scowled, coming closer. “Answer me.”

“Why, girl?” He sneered at her before moving away, turning his back on her as he tended to another plant.

She huffed. “It was merely a question,” she said, becoming exasperated. “Why wouldn’t you answer?”

He said nothing, ignoring her completely. She sighed, but tried again. “Are you happy here?”
He snorted, and finally turned around fully, crossing his arms. Her gaze was drawn to his black tattoos, and she shivered.

“What do you think?” he snarled, advancing. She stepped back before she could catch herself, and then lifted her chin.

“If I knew,” she snapped. “I wouldn’t be asking, would I?”

He stopped just in front of her, forcing her to look up to keep watching his face.

“Imagine this, mortal,” he said, voice low. “Being at home. Then suddenly ripped away. Your lifeblood blocked. Forced to work. Then, you might understand.” He turned on his heel, returning to the plants.

She stared at him, his words echoing in her head. As he ignored her again, she turned and fled.