Return to Alcarin

18th of Camince

These past two days have passed me by in a daze. Grimaldus accompanied me to Alcarin when I returned home. To say that my parents were surprised by our engagement is an understatement. They were unfailingly polite to Grimaldus, as always, but I knew that I was going to have much explaining to do when we were alone…
 
I didn’t stay long… I basically said hello to them in a daze, and asked for Grimaldus to stay there. Then, I conjured a floating disk and carefully laid Filandrel’s body in state. I almost found myself wishing that I had learned just enough necromancy to make him look asleep instead of dead… but that is beside the point, it would be more for my own peace of mind than anything else. Though, right now, I don’t deserve to have peace of mind, considering that this is all due to my own decisions. If I hadn’t asked for Filandrel’s help, then he might not have even known the particulars of what we were planning. And Rowan might still be here… I know that she gave her life using the throne, but maybe Filandrel killing her weakened her somewhat first? I don’t know… I cannot afford to think on this right now… there will be plenty of time for that later.
 
Covering Filandrel’s body in a shroud, I made my way to the palace, the floating disk following a short distance behind me. The guards immediately granted me entrance to the antechamber, and there I waited for an audience.
 
Speculation buzzed around me as the various officials and courtiers tried to discern what was happening, without being obtuse. I am pleased that I was able to maintain a carefully neutral expression, when I so desperately wanted to scream and shout at them to begone. My business was none of their concern, and Filandrel’s body was not for their viewing… that would come later, at his funeral, if the Prince decided to allow it… right now, this was between myself, and Prince Oberon, Filandrel’s nephew.
 
I don’t know how long I waited, before the prince finally arrived. His gaze landed on me and settled on my face. I think he must have known why I was here, because he immediately bade me enter the throne room, and ordered it cleared. More people shot me furtive, curious glances as they filed past.
 
When the throne room was empty, the Prince glanced at the shroud. “Is that who I think it is?”
Not trusting my voice, I merely nodded.
Prince Oberon approached the disk, and gently pulled back the shroud. I could see a flash of the pain he tried to hide as he gazed at Filandrel’s body. I was surprised that he showed no reaction to the change in appearance… I would have thought he would have been at least a bit taken aback at the scarred face and silver-blond hair…
“How did this happen?” he asked quietly.
“In the east…” I cleared the lump out of my throat. “We were going to face the Decimator of Cities, the dragon… I reached out to him. Stupid, I know… but I did. I asked him for help.” I took a deep, shaky breath, and continued. “He betrayed us.” I shook my head, unable to meet the prince’s eyes. “I was desperate, and I made a mistake. I knew I shouldn’t trust him, but I thought…”
“I thought… I wanted to believe him when he said he would help.” I finished before I lost my nerve.
 
“In his own way, he likely wanted to, I would like to think.” The prince’s voice was gentle. Gentle and understanding, when I wanted him to shout at me, call me a fool, stop being so damn nice to me, because this was all my fault.
“I heard there was a great power in the city.” Prince Oberon said thoughtfully. “He was likely interested in it.”
“There was.” I nodded. “He was…”
 
The prince stood there, waiting for me to elaborate, giving me time I didn’t deserve. “My friend…” I explained. “The best person you could ever meet, the most pure hearted and genuinely good person on the face of this world… he killed her. Rowan was going to use the throne to restore the great trees and hold off the darkness… I was taking her to the throne while the others held off the dragon. I called to Filandrel for help because the dragon was overwhelming us, and he arrived in front of us, instead of facing the dragon. He trapped me in a force cage that I couldn’t counterspell, and then he killed her… just like that.” I paused for a deep, steadying breath.
“So, as you can imagine… well…” I motioned to Filandrel’s body, my voice trailing off. “He did think he was doing the best for our people…” I stated. “He was just going about it in the worst way.”
I stood there, looking at Filandrel’s face, my mind not fully in the throne room. “He apologized to me, even as he killed Rowan.” I explained quietly. “He said it was necessary in order to preserve our people.” I could feel my eyes burning with tears that I refused to let fall.
 
“Preserving our people isn’t worth losing what makes us Elvish in the first place.” The prince stated with sad conviction.
 
“I know… I tried to talk to him, but it didn’t work… even in the end…”
 
“I suppose he was beyond speaking to…” Prince Oberon mused sadly. “We will need to ensure he is still honored properly. Despite… everything…”
 
“Please.” I said, unable to hide the despair in my voice. “Our people have lost two of our eldest members in these past weeks…”
 
“I heard of the old smith.” He said, moving to sit on one of the steps leading up to his throne. “We will honor him as well, in whatever way we can…”
 
I nodded. That is good at least. “Filandrel told me that they were brothers… and the axiomyte said that they’d come here from the First World together, in their youth.”
 
That took the prince by surprise. “I don’t think they wanted it public,” I continued. “But seeing as…” I glanced pointedly at the body. “I don’t think that matters much anymore…”
 
Oberon nodded solemnly. “We’ve lost, and continue to lose so much…”
 
A baby cried upstairs. “How is your wife?” I asked cautiously, with a glance at the ceiling.
 
“She is still unconscious, but stable.” The prince replied. “The circle of druids has kept her well…” he trailed off.
 
We sat in silence for some time, each absorbed in our respective thoughts. Finally, Prince Oberon stood up with a sigh. “After the funeral,” his voice was quiet. “I would like you to take some time for yourself… Return with the answer to what I proposed whenever you are ready.” And with that, he turned and left, leaving me standing alone in the throne room with Filandrel’s body. Someone came shortly thereafter to collect the body and begin preparations for the funeral.
 
* * *
 
Both Grimaldus and my parents have largely left me alone since I returned from the palace. I am grateful, for I don’t wish to speak to anyone right now… my thoughts weigh heavily on my mind… I’ve been going through the few personal effects that Filandrel had on his person, although I haven’t had the courage to look through his spell book yet. Something about such an invasion of privacy seems inappropriate in a way. I will have to face it soon, but I can’t today… maybe I’ll feel ready for it after his funeral. It still hasn’t fully sunk in, a part of me half expects to receive word from him, or go to the library and find him once again pouring over old books…
 
It is an odd mystery… the mind… I should hate him. I do hate him. But I also miss him. I crave the intellectual challenge of his discussions, the sense of security that his presence used to provide. I know now that it was all a lie, but it still doesn’t keep the mind from wanting, even if it’s akin to grasping at the morning dew in hopes of rain.
 
But, I must go, I can hear Grimaldus moving about downstairs, and if he starts rummaging through the pantry looking for food, I fear it might end badly… he can’t read any of the labels…