Spirit Speaker

The queen's private gardens were a sight to behold. They had been designed and grown by a group of rather industrious dryads, who, when it was finished, decided to make it their home.

That meant that no one could enter it uninvited. 

I stood at the entrance, cast a spell to evaporate the alcohol from my body and clothing, and took a step forward. 

The hedge pulled apart to form an archway of leaves and branches, revealing the garden in its entirety. 

The spirits were strong here, having been cultivated carefully by creatures that answered directly to the Spirit King himself. 

So strong in fact that they had taken shape without being called by a mage, and were playing in the spaces between the flowers, and chasing each other around the fountain. 

The queen sat on one of the benches, her hand held out in a beckoning gesture, pulling a curious spirit towards her. 

She didn't look up when I arrived, just kept pulling the spirit in closer and closer. 

She held her palm out, and the spirit landed on it and danced around it. 

"You've been avoiding me, Master Mage." She said, her voice low. 

"Yes ma'am," I replied. A lie wouldn't have worked. 

"Why?"

"You terrify me, ma'am," I responded simply. "You've seen things. Things about the future that you haven't revealed to me. And the implications of what you might have seen frighten me."

She turned her hand, watching the spirit dance between her fingers and down her wrist. 

"Spirits have the capacity to see both the past and the future. Isn't that right, Lukas?"

I nodded. "That is correct, ma'am."

"Tila. When it's just the two of us, call me Tila."

"That is correct, Tila."

"Poor things." 

She held up a bottle of the Corel Wine. "I've been trying to drum up the courage to take another sip of this." She said. "I can't seem to bring myself to."

She pointed to a wooden stool a few feet away from her. "Sit." She said, pointing to a spot ahead of her. 

"Tila. Please."

"I don't bite, Lukas. Sit. I need answers, and you're the only person I can talk to about these things."

I swallowed nervously, and sat down opposite her, a respectful space between us. 

She shook her head. "Closer, Lukas. I need to be able to see your eyes."

I brought the stool closer and now sat close enough that she could kick me if she wanted to. 

"I won't come any closer than this, Tila," I told her. 

The queen nodded. "If that's what you wish." 

She pulled out two wine glasses from beneath the bench and held one out to me. 

"Now, we are going to drink this. And I will tell you what I see, and what I've seen. And in return, you will do the same."

"I can't tell you everything, Tila." I shook my head slowly. "There may come a time in the future when I can, but tonight is not that time."

She kept the glass in her outstretched arm between us. I took it. 

"Good." She opened the wine bottle and filled her glass to the brim. 

The wine, red, deep red, swirled in the glass, the bright moonlight glittering in it like a thousand stars.

Then she filled mine. 

"Are you ready?" She whispered, more to herself than to me. 

She brought the glass to her lips and sipped.

She closed her eyes and went still. 

A minute passed, then two, then five. 

She opened them. And they glittered with tears. 

"What did you see?" I asked, hoping desperately that the Weaver had kept her word and severed the timeline. 

She shook her head. "Drink first." She commanded. "We'll talk after."

I looked down, unable to maintain my gaze. And drank. 

I closed my eyes and was rocked by a powerful vision. 

*

My father was tied between two stones. His back was bare. 

I was running. Running. I had to make it in time. 

The elf raised his arm, the whip dangling loosely from it. 

I burst onto the stage and dove in front of my father as the whip came down. 

A hot lance of fire branded itself across my chest. 

"Lukas! What are you doing?" My father screamed. "Get down, get back!"

"No!" I shouted back "You did nothing wrong!" I stepped forward. 

The elf with the whip looked to the balcony where the clan chief sat. 

The chief nodded. 

And the elf drew his arm back.

"Lukas! No! No Lukas!"

Another crack. Another stripe of white-hot pain lanced across my chest. 

"Get back Lukas, please! Please stop this! Clan chief, please! Stop! He's just a child."

I staggered backwards and stood up again. I pulled my torn and bloodied shirt off and glared defiantly at the clan chief. 

The crowd began to murmur. 

The clan chief nodded again. 

Another crack, another scream from my father, another hot stripe across my chest. 

I staggered backwards again, in agony. 

And then I stood back up. And glared in defiance at the clan chief again. 

The chief's face grew red with anger. He nodded once more. 

The elf with the whip raised it behind him. 

The murmur of the crowd grew, angrier. Though the anger wasn't directed at me. 

The whip cracked again, knocking me to the ground. 

I pulled myself up from the ground. And stepped forward, my arms spread wide. They would not touch my father. 

The elf with the whip looked up at the clan chief, a mixture of anger, and shame plastered on his face. 

The crowd was screaming behind him. Not at me, but at the balcony above. 

The crown chief nodded again. 

The elf looked at me, with pity and admiration. 

"Kirita, leleth." He said to me, his eyes begging me to move. 

"You will not touch my father," I shouted back, defiantly. 

The whip came down, knocking me to the floor again, another agonising stripe spread across my chest. 

The crowd screamed with a greater intensity.

"This is shameful!" A voice cried out. 

"What wrong did this child do?" Another. 

"Release the outcast, and drop the whip!"

The clan chief raised his hand again, his face growing purple with rage. 

I closed my eyes and waited for another blow. 

It didn't come. 

I opened my eyes to see that the elf had dropped the whip. And this time was glaring angrily at the clan chief. 

Who was bellowing in elvish. 

No one listened to him. 

He pushed at his guards, but they wouldn't obey him. 

The elf with the whip drew his sword and screamed defiance at the chief. 

The crowd surged and seethed behind him. 

And now the clan chief looked afraid. 

The guards grabbed him and dragged him down to the stage, where my father was hanging. 

Two elves untied my father, picked me up and delivered me to him. 

He took me carefully into his arms, tears falling on my chest, the salt causing the wounds to sting even more. 

I heard the clan chief screaming as the guards dragged him to the stone. 

The elf that had whipped me patted my head, and then looked up, a grim look on his face. He held the whip firmly in his hand.

"You were brave, little half-elf." He said to me as my father passed. "This clan rewards bravery, and punishes cowardice."

A crack, and a scream. 

And another. 

And another. 

And another. 

I didn't look back, my father shielded me from what was happening.

Another crack, another scream. 

And another.

And another. 

And another. 

*

The vision ended. 

I was back in the queen's garden, the scars on my chest no longer hurting. I swallowed a scream, biting into my fist to keep it down. 

Tila was watching me, eyes filled with concern. 

"What did you see?" She asked. 

I shuddered and breathed out shakily. 

"Pain, Tila."

"Tell me."

"You don't want to hear this, majesty."

"Tell me."

So I did. And I was right. She didn't want to hear it. But she was playing a cruel game with me, and I was hurt. And I wanted to hurt her back.

I unbuttoned my shirt and showed her the scars, pointing to each one as I described my memory in great detail.

I hid nothing. 

And when I was finished, her face was pale, her lips quivering, her cheeks wet with tears. 

I swallowed, my throat dry. 

And we sat in silence. For a long time. 

The spirits danced around us, sensing our distress. Her distress. 

They flicked and flittered, lighting on our skin, kissing it, soothing our pain. My pain. 

"Now it's your turn," I said quietly. "Tell me what you saw."

The queen raised her head. "I can't Lukas. Not after what you just told me."

"Tell me."

"It will make me a monster."

"Tell me."

"I…" She looked around desperately, for help. For an escape. And found none. 

All she saw was me, hurt and broken, scars gleaming faintly in the moonlight.

And she told me what she saw. 

*

She saw a field, a gorgeous golden field of sun-ripened wheat. 

She sat on a hill, a picnic basket at her feet. The king was beside her, fussing with Anna, trying to put her back to sleep. 

The sky was blue, the breeze warm. 

She opened the picnic basket and pulled out their meal, and they spent the afternoon smiling, laughing, feeding each other, and throwing leftover food. 

And the king told her he loved her, and she told him the same.

And Anna gurgled happily, a momentary slice of paradise. 

*

She trailed off, and buried her head in her hands, her silence broken by the occasional sob. 

I stood up and sat beside her. 

"Forgive my impropriety, majesty," I said and put my arm around her. 

She leaned into me and wept.

The spirits danced around her, lighting on her hair like snowflakes. I called more to my side, and the garden began to glow faintly as hundreds of small orbs began to dance around us. 

"Tila," I whispered. "Look." 

And she did. She looked up, her eyes red and puffy. And saw hundreds of lights filling the garden. 

I let her go and returned to my seat. 

"This is your garden," I said, gently, softly. "And they are here for you. They are yours. What will you have them do?"

The queen reached out and caught one, and brought it to her chest. 

"I will have a blessing from them, Master Mage." She said quietly. "Though not for me. For you."

I raised my hand, and the spirits clustered to it. They flowed around me, settling in my hair like a golden crown, hugging my clothing so that I glowed with radiant light. 

"And what blessing does a queen have for a broken half-elf, Majesty?" 

She looked up. "That you will never feel such pain again." 

No spirit can grant me that, Tila. I thought sadly. So I will grant you a blessing instead. 

The spirits left me and settled on her instead. 

"Grant her strength," I said in elvish so that she couldn't understand my words. "Grant her strength, and the ability to sleep soundly. Watch over her until the king dies, and then keep the vigil until she joins him in the golden halls."

The spirits glowed, brighter and brighter, and then all at once vanished. 

The queen looked around curiously. "Where did they go?"

I smiled. "They obeyed so fervently, that they no longer had enough energy to stay here. They've returned to their objects to rest." I paused. "They love you, Tila. More than you could ever know."

She looked up at me. "I think I'm beginning to see that, Master Mage." She looked at the bottle on the ground between us. 

She picked it up and handed it to me. "Destroy this, Lukas. I no longer need it. You have won my trust implicitly."

I took the bottle from her and bowed. 

"As you say, Majesty."