Darkspur

Chapter 22 - The Trees

Sam looked at Handran, who in turn stared back at Sam. The room was silent.

"Would not do that if I were you," Lyet said, looking at the contents of her mug, swirling the liquid.

Handran was slowly reaching for the sword.

"You would be dead before you had solid grip," she looked at the squire, tilted head, smiling.

"You can understand my reaction. Gorothan died hundreds of years ago, that makes you seem a tad," Handran paused, looking for the right word, "deluded?"

She laughed. "Yes, I can see how this must seem, but I can assure you, Gorothan, is very much alive."

"How?" Handran asked. "No-one can live that long, not even you elves."

"It is very simple, really. They have given their life to, Iazhor, in exchange for immortality."

"Simple," Handran exclaimed. "Do you know how insane you sound?"

"Insane," she seemed to mull this over. "Yes, I suppose I do. Been called much worse, though."

"So, why are you here then and not with the other Darnach?" Sam asked.

"There are consequences to, Iazhor's, blessing," she spat the last word out as if bitter in her mouth. "One being, they cannot have children. But once in a while, by chance, one is born and that is strictly forbidden. My mother kept me a secret; it is easier than you may think in a hole the size of Far-Naeborn. For eight years she succeeded until I was discovered and brought before Gorothan. He knew instantly I was his child and for a moment he was at a loss as to what to do. But his devotion to Iazhor won through in the end and I was to be sacrificed to the demon. I would have been if it were not for the persecuted Darnach women. They rioted, storming the sacrificial ceremony, stealing me away to the slopes of Surgaret Orod where I was left to fend for myself in the wilderness."

"That's some story, Lyet," Handran said. "Yet, still a little hard to believe. Why didn't they just send someone after you? Surely a young girl would have been easy to track and catch?"

"Any other young girl, yes, but I am Famaral, a magic user. No Darnach has been given the power in hundreds of years, all of their abilities come from the crystals bestowed upon them by, Iazhor. So even at that early age, compared to them, I could do wondrous things."

"But if you are Darnach, why do your eyes not glow red like the rest?" Sam asked.

"Because, I have not been given the blessing, I am not immortal." She turned away, refilling her mug.

Handran rose from beside the sleeping Milly.

"So, how long have you been here, Lyet?" He asked.

She frowned, staring out the window. "Fifty, sixty years," she said, shrugging.

"And all that time on your own?" Sam's voice was full of sadness.

She laughed. "Of course not, I have the Tree to keep me company."

Handran just shook his head, a bewildered expression on his face and turned his attention back to Milly.

"How is she?" Sam asked, appearing at his shoulder.

"She's sleeping comfortably but we'll have to watch that wound, it's still not properly healed. It's going to take time and I don't want it getting infected."

"Can't she just heal herself?" Sam pondered. "When she wakes up I mean?"

Handran scratched his head. "I have no idea, Sam, but I don't see why not."