Bound by the Mist (Mists of Eria) (7 page)

Kenhel blocked a blow and whirled to put some space between them. “Oh yes, we’re both nearing our decline.”

“You will certainly be meeting your decline at the end of my sword.”

“I would like to see that, old man.”

Again, his friend’s words snagged on something in his mind. Cal was by no means old, but she would age…. This time, Kenhel caught on when Relian didn’t recover soon enough. He halted his attack and raised an arched eyebrow at Relian, his way of asking if something was wrong. Relian shook his head, implying he didn’t want to discuss it right now.

The weight of his friend’s gaze bore down upon him. Because they’d been close friends since childhood, Kenhel would be able to sense a change within him. His friend was worried and hadn’t hid his delight when Relian made the time to come out to the training grounds today. Of course, it helped that the king previously insisted Relian take the rest of the afternoon to “have recess and play.” Relian had given a small snort at this but complied because he longed for some physical exertion. He just found it distasteful when his father treated him like an errant child who needed permission to go about his day.

They finished their match—a draw. He and Kenhel washed their face and hands with water the servants had provided. After toweling off, they walked back toward the silver-stone palace to find some food before heading out on a short ride. Most of the disquiet that had been blissfully absent returned. He frowned. Even the beauty of the grounds and buildings didn’t soothe him.

He and Kenhel stepped into an arched doorway that led to a hallway partially open to the air. Trees grew among and into the architecture, blending nature with civilization, but he found no pleasure in the sight. As he removed his left vambrace from his forearm, the movement pulled the sleeve of his green tunic up above his wrist.

Kenhel reached a hand out to touch the binding. “What is this?”

Relian gave him an incredulous look and yanked down his sleeve. “You know what this is.”

His friend turned a perturbed stare on him and narrowed his eyes. “You know what I mean. Where did this come from, or should I say from whom?”

His evasiveness wouldn’t work for long, but he still turned a blank face to his friend. “I know not from where it came. At least, not for sure.”

“What?” Kenhel practically exploded. “How can you not know? It cannot just”—he snapped his fingers—“appear like that.”

“Strange things have been happening. The veil has been busy.”

“We all know that.” Kenhel rolled his eyes. “Stop trying to sound like one of our cockamamie Mystics who say much but, in reality, nothing at all. Or better yet, stop sounding like an elf.”

Relian gave his friend a long-suffering glare that conveyed he thought Kenhel a fool for not understanding his vague explanation. “No, I mean the veil has been interfering in my life.”

“How so? The veil, to my knowledge, doesn’t toy with an individual’s fate. I don’t know what’s happening to our world if that indeed has occurred.”

Relian ripped his sleeve up again and shoved the binding under his friend’s nose. “This! With this.”

Kenhel shot him a doubtful look. “How can it be responsible for your binding? Such a thing has to be mutually agreed upon by both parties.”

The blatant skepticism in his friend’s tone told Relian he had a long story ahead of him. He gave a tired sigh mingled with exasperation. “I don’t know how or why, but the veil has exerted its influence here.”

“I fail to understand why the veil would want you to bond with an eivai so desperately. To be sure, such a bond is a very special thing, but it has never forced a binding between two people. That”— Kenhel pointed at the binding bracelet—“couldn’t have appeared on your wrist all by itself.”

“The binding was there a few days ago when I woke up.” The hardest part of the story was yet to come. In spite of his self-confidence, he did something he rarely, if ever, did. He mumbled. “It is not an eivai from Eria or Vieria.” He waited to see how Kenhel would take that news. Fortunately, he didn’t have to wait long.

“Not an eivai from Eria or Vieria? Where are there other eivain, if not in these places? Unless the veil wants you to bond with someone from another fey species, your choices are limited.”

Relian sighed again. Kenhel
would
fail to see the other possibilities. “It is not an eivai or another fey species. It’s a human.”

“What?” Kenhel’s voice rose. “A human? It can’t be a human, at least a full-blooded one, for there are none here.”

“I said it was not a person of Eria.” Relian’s voice sounded weary to his own ears.

“Where else could….” Kenhel trailed off. “It is a person from...Earth?” He whispered this idea as if it were a poisonous animal he had to handle carefully.

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“How do you know for sure? I believe there must be many details you’ve left out because I can’t see how you’re aware of all this.” Kenhel gave him a look that demanded confirmation and clarification.

“There are many things I haven’t told a soul. If you wish to discuss this further, let us go to the kitchen for our supplies. We can speak about this while we ride. I desire privacy when talking about such matters.”

Kenhel nodded. “That’s understandable. Let’s go before the afternoon is gone.”

Once in the countryside, away from prying ears, Relian began his story. Kenhel listened, his eyes wide and his lips parted, and hardly even bothered to guide his horse on the trail. Relian knew his story sounded fantastical, but his friend believed him. Kenhel’s expressions played over his face, leaving no doubt of that fact. Although his friend could apply that mask of elvin inscrutability as well as Relian when needed, he often didn’t do so around close family members and friends. It was a side of Kenhel that Relian had always appreciated.

The story finished, Kenhel shook his head, awe written across his features. “Simply amazing, my friend! Leave it to you to liven up this place when I’ve been trying to do so for centuries.” He threw a pout at Relian before growing serious. “Have you thought about looking in the main library for any information or prophecy on the veil? How about the smaller studies and libraries that litter the palace?”

Relian shook his head. “There’s been much research done because of the recent rending of the veil. I know there’s nothing of help. Besides, we were both there for the forming of the veil, even though we were very young. We would’ve certainly heard about a case like mine involving a human had there been one.”

“That’s true, but there were a few humans who crossed over with us before the veil’s final closing. Some, albeit not many, Erians have human blood.”

“But as you said, all this happened before the final closing of the veil. Anyone with human blood, even a smattering, will have gained our longevity, if they’re still alive, that is. But this isn’t important to the discussion.”

“You’ll soon have to tell your father. Otherwise, he will find out somehow. It won’t be a peaceful scene if he learns of it through gossip or some other means. He has quite the temper, which I am afraid you inherited from him. Thank the heavens you two rarely display even a portion of it.”

“I’m afraid it will not be a restful scene, no matter how he finds out.”

“Aw, Relian, do you want me to hold your hand while you face your father?”

Relian made a face at him. “No, I think not. I’m quite past the handholding stage of elfling-hood, thank you. Now, when will you be?” He raised a taunting brow. “I can remember a certain elf who had to learn self-control over his temper. He once broke his friend’s toy horse when he wanted one like it but didn’t get one.”

“You’ll never let me forget that, will you?” He frowned at Relian in displeasure. “I was only a hundred years old—just a babe.”

“I forgave you a long time ago. But when you had to help the carpenter in his shop, gathering the proper materials to recreate what you broke, I found it quite pleasing.”

“Yes,” sourly replied his friend. “I’m sure you found great joy in it.”

They kept riding for nearly an hour until they came to a secluded waterfall that cascaded high up from a sheer rock face into a crystalline pool. As young elflings, they’d often snuck out of the royal city and into this wonderfully fun paradise.

Once they saw to both horses, they set about feeding themselves. With full bellies and after a slight rest, they stripped down to loincloths to swim. While they splashed around and tried to dunk each other, Relian’s stress floated away. His father was right, as much as it rankled. This outing relieved much of his tension, as had telling Kenhel of his binding to Cal. Though he still had a great deal to worry about, for the moment all seemed brighter.

Chapter 7

Relian stood with his arms folded, his face plastered with an expression of forced neutrality that started to crumble in a fine dust. He gave an inward snort at the mental image of so dirtying his father’s pristine cream and silver study.

The situation was happening exactly as Relian predicted. For the last fifteen minutes, he’d listened to Talion rant about his supposed apathy toward the unfolding events.

His father didn’t take kindly to the almost certain possibility he was to bond with a human. Relian hadn’t been able to tell him much beyond, “I am to be bonded, and not to an eivai, but to a human.” From there, his father had cut him off and monopolized the conversation.

Of course, it helped matters not that Relian came off as “too flippant despite the seriousness of the circumstances.” He tried not to make light of his binding, but he hadn’t wanted to unduly stress his royal sire with the woe he still felt. His father had enough angst on his golden platter to handle. Alas, this hadn’t stopped his father from reacting strongly.

After finally stopping to take a breath, his father stalked over to him, where they proceeded to stare each other down. Amusement mingled with irritation. Talion hadn’t lost control to such an extent for nearly a few millennia. Like any elf of his station, his father had taken to heart only too well what he’d been taught with age and race. Restraint was often a good thing, but it was best done away with on occasion before the person in question forgot how to do so. He himself was much like his father in this.

Talion had mussed up his pale golden hair in a very un-kinglike fashion, his circlet long tossed off in his agitation. Aside from the differences in hair color, his father wore an almost identical face to that of his. Only their expressions differed wildly right now. He paused in his inspection of his father. Yes, the aggravation on his face and the frustration that burned in his eyes were greater than Relian could remember seeing for many years.

Talion grasped Relian’s wrist, seeming to want, no, seeming to need some modicum of emotion from him. “What do you play at? This is no trifle trinket you carry around.”

“I never said it was.”

His father took a deep breath, appearing at last to develop a calmness of mind. “There’s an explanation in order. Now.”

Relian gave a wry laugh. “An explanation? How I would also desire one. But I don’t believe one is forthcoming for either you or me.”

“Stop being facetious. You risk certain insanity or worse if the matter isn’t resolved satisfactorily.” Talion’s voice thundered in Relian’s ears.

“I am being serious. You exaggerate. Bindings in and of themselves don’t cause bodily harm to that extent. Only finalized bondings can cause that kind of damage.” Relian nearly quivered at the uncertainty in his own voice.

His father gave a huff. “Much damage can come from a broken binding, even if not death, when the binding is left in place too long beforehand. After all, what’s the difference between a bonding and a binding? It is all a matter of degree.”

While strangely amusing to watch his father’s iron control slip, he needed to defuse the situation before it ignited his own temper. He sensed a lull in his father’s agitation and held out a hand. “Peace. I’ll tell you whatever you desire to know.”

Talion’s face returned to a calm mask, and he gave an imperious nod for him to continue. Once Relian was done with his tale, he watched as a resolute emotion filled Talion’s face. His father had come to a decision. Relian’s heart dropped to his stomach. He could only hope it was in agreement with his own. If not, he would have to do some quick thinking.

Shooting Relian an amused glance, Talion spoke first. “You guard those dreams like a lord hording his gold.”

Heat crept up Relian’s neck even as relief trickled through him. From his father’s words, he knew he had his full support for the upcoming days and whatever they may bring. “They’re not exactly appropriate for public consumption.”

“When fate—or the mist, since it seems to be playing that role—brings you together, I just hope your…human appreciates the great regard in which you hold her.”

Relian stiffened. “Though she’s human, I give her the respect she deserves as my affianced, nothing more.”

“If that’s what you tell yourself.” Talion laughed outright. “You’re a stubborn elf. Add a human woman into the mix, and who knows where the whole situation will go.” He sobered. “I’ll accept her because I must. But we don’t know the state of her emotional health and must proceed with care. Humans can be fragile. Regardless, we must engineer acceptance of the human woman and secure some measure of contentment for you. And thoroughly research whether she’s associated with a prophecy.”

Now assured of Cal’s welcome by his father, Relian blinked as another thought assailed him. That had seemed a little too easy. What was his father up to?

***

Relian tried to relax his posture as he watched the door. After two weeks of deliberation, his father had decided to call a council to session. This special gathering would be the first to know of his binding.

Though ambivalent about the whole affair, he recognized they couldn’t hide such news for long. Especially from perceptive elves who had centuries and more to hone their skill. All pretense of a polite smile slid off his face. He didn’t enjoy the notion of a skill he prided himself on being used against him and sat up even straighter when the council members and advisors started to filter into the room. The breakfast he’d eaten churned in his stomach. Everyone would soon know how his life was about to change.