The day had seemed like any other that had passed over the last few weeks.
On the North Lawn, Calidis toiled at her workbench in the bright midday sun, carefully arranging a new broach setting, silver arrayed with tiny onyx stones. Beyond her, Xanderian ran her gauntlet for the tenth time that day, nocking arrow after arrow and striking down spinning targets as she ran and whirled and dived, pushing herself harder and harder through the course, Heartbreaker crooning out the cadence of her attack.
Calidis paused in her work to watch her lover’s supple movements and deadly intensity. She knew well that for all her hedonistic tendencies, idleness made Xanderian uneasy and restless. Within herself, the huntress could not shake the feeling that the greater the peace, the harsher the war that was coming….and that thought frightened her.
Xanderian leapt into the air, firing three times more and striking three more targets then rolled as she landed, discarding Heartbreaker and drawing Lovelorn in a single motion, the blade flashing in the sunlight. She nodded to herself, ending the gauntlet.
Calidis smiled and was about to speak when the peace was shattered by a high-pitched scream…more than a scream. It was both felt and heard, it seemed to echo in the soul as well as the ear and evoked every dark dread and horrible loss ever known. A heartbeat after the scream, the air was further rent by the sound of shattering glass as every window of the House of Three Graces was blown outward. Both elves ducked in fear of broken glass but there was none to avoid. Each pane had been blasted into a fine powder, falling around the two like a shimmering snowfall. If not for the shock, they would have both found it beautiful.
More screams echoed…a deeper voice, reacting in fear. Xanderian took off at a run for the doors of the mansion, calling “Eduwiges….EDUWIGES!” as Calidis hurried to catch up.
As the two mounted the marble stairs, another scream in the same shrill voice as the first echoed around them. “NO!!!! EMIG!!!!”.
Catapulting through the great doors, Xan raced into the Hall of Memories, to find Eduwiges on her knees, sheltering her mother Daedre with her body, eyes wide as she looked around for a threat to fight.
Daedre pushed against the larger woman. “Dammit girl, I’m fine unless ya count the fact you’re suffocating me! What the devil was THAT?”
Nimlinder, her lute abandoned mid song, stood in the doorway towards Tuile’s chamber, pointing one long pale arm towards the stairs to the Chamber of Stars. “I think that was HER…”
All eyes turned to the top of the stairs, where stood a young elf woman. When they would discuss this moment later, each would have thought she was a different age. Daedre saw a young girl, perhaps 8 in man years, while Edu saw a 13 year old Sindar Maiden. However Xanderian, Calidis and Nimlindir saw her as if she were in the long spring of early elven womanhood, raven hair long and swept back, brown eyes gleaming with tears, wringing her hands as she wept.
Calidis whispered behind Xanderian. “My love…if this is Isilme that I have heard you speak of, I can see her…it seems we all can…has that ever happened before?”
Xanderian simply shook her head, whispering, “No….” but never taking her eyes off the girl.
Daedre struggled back to her feet. “Isilme? Who? How many elves does this house keep?”
Eduwiges looked at Xan in concern, hissing to her mother. “Isilme is Xanderian’s daughter..or…well..she WILL be her daughter, someday…maybe. It is confusing..but she only ever appears to Xan or Nimlindir..once to Finchley I think. If I can see her too…that is either very good or very bad.”
Isilme looked down at Xanderian and her shoulders shook violently as she tried to control her tears enough to speak. “Amil…oh Amil….Emig is dead…she is dead!” At her own announcement she lost what control she had managed and howled with grief, falling forward and onto her knees before Xanderian.
Calidis lifted a hand to her chest in horror. “No…it cannot be…I shall not believe it…” She looked at Xan, her black eyes welling with tears. “Beloved...Is this true…?”
Xanderian bit her lip deep in thought. “It has been some time since I have been able to feel the Banshee, but that did not surprise me considering their mission…but surely…this I would have felt…somehow…”
Dee glared at Eduwiges again. “Now who in the name of the great eye is Emig?”
Edu wiped a hand across her own eyes, refusing to cry. “Emig…she means Finchley, who you haven’t met yet…it means Mommy in elvish.”
“But you just said Xanderian is the girl’s mother..or will be..or something…” Daedre was getting cross as she became more confused.
Edu hissed in frustration. “She is..but she also considers Finchley to be…oh…never mind…I’ll write ya a scorecard later.” She moved forward hesitantly. “Lethy…is this true..is…is little sister…dead? How would Lif let something like that happen?” In Eduwige’s eyes, not even Death dared to cross Xandilif.
Xanderian dropped to her knees…knowing she could not actually embrace her daughter yet to come, but needing to be eye to eye with her. “Isilme, sweet one…tell me..what do you see? What of Finchley, your Emig..and what of your Aunt Xandilif?”
Meeting her mother’s eyes, Isilme controlled her tears again. “Oh Amil..I felt her die..I tried to reach out..tried to grab her..but she was not there…she was dead…but not dead, just not alive…or more alive…and she screamed…and she cried…..and she fought….and then…it all changed.”
Xan nodded softly, knowing that for those who are not yet alive, describing life can be difficult. “Changed?”
Isilme nodded eagerly. “Emig is alive again, or not dead…or both…but…oh Amil….she is so SAD…she makes my heart break…..”
Eduwiges ran a hand down her face. “By Bema I cannot stand these shocks. Sad is fine…much better then dead, or not alive..or whatever.”
Daedre pulled on her daughter’s sleeve. “You better hurry up with that scorecard before all this nonsense crosses my eyes.”
Xan tried to keep her own emotions in check, as the thought of Small Finchley dead, possessed by that evil thing that had been bonded to her, had almost been more than she could bear. “Sad..but alive…and where is she now?”
The elven maiden thought for a moment. “She rode with Aunt Lif through a house, a big house, but it was built across a river..and it was hollow…Amil…you must go help Emig…she is so very very sad…she bears with her a corpse and a woman who is a multitude who is not here but not there and she wears black guilt like an ugly hat.”
Xanderian nodded and rose, not bothering to try to decode that last part yet. “The Trestlespan….they have returned to Trestlebridge. Dear Nim, stay with Daedre. Calidis, Eduwiges, make ready…we ride for Eriador as if Melkor himself was at our heels.”
As Xan swept out of the room without looking back to prepare her own gear, the shimmering form of Isilme turned towards Nimlindir, still wiping her tears away as she slowly faded. “Did I do alright Auntie Nim? Will everything be alright now?”
Nimlinder smiled. “Yes sweet girl…you did well..and everything will be just fine…just fine….eventually.”
Daedre shook her head and looked around at the now windowless chamber. "Eventually huh? Brave words for an elf in a glass house."
