Chapter 48

Reality After he sorted out his thoughts, Karn returned to his room—and Tala. When he entered, she was seated on the floor in the middle of the room, where she fed grapes to a small gray squirrel. Both the squirrel’s ears and Tala’s were perked up.

Tala giggled as she looked at Karn and tossed a grape at his armored chest. It bounced and fell to the floor, where the squirrel scurried off to retrieve it.

“Nice squirrel.”

“Thanks. He came through the window around nightfall. I thought it would be kind to share my snack with him.”

“Sorry I’ve been so long. Are you hungry?”

“Not terribly. Elves can live on air and sunshine if they need to,” she added, then gave him an arch look.

Too consumed with his own thoughts to care if that was a joke, Karn sat on the side of the bed and flopped backward.

Tala crawled across the floor to his side and whispered, “This war is taking its toll on you, lover.” She rubbed his leg. “Care to go for a walk?”

“That… Yes, that might be nice.”

***

Tala dragged Karn through the maze of hallways; after some time, they exited near the royal garden.

There were few things Tala enjoyed more than the brisk night air; it infused her with energy, and Karn swore he could feel it tingle in her hand as he held it in his.

“So, what happened today?” Tala asked.

“Can we talk about that later?” Karn shook his head. “To be honest, I’d rather talk about us.”

“Oh?” Tala smiled and paused at a row of red roses to smell them.

“Where do you swim at night, Tala?”

“You want to go swimming?”

“Why not?” Karn shrugged.

“Well, there’s a small lake in the forest.” She pointed. “There’s a deep, slow-flowing stream nearby too.”

“Where did you go last night?”

Tala took a deep breath before she answered, “The lake.”

“Then take me to your lake.”

***

The forest seemed darker than usual that night and grew even darker with every step they took. As soon as they were away from the glow of the city’s lights, Tala stepped off the dirt path. Karn followed, amazed by how well she could traverse the deep forest terrain in the murky shadows. If it were not for her, he knew he would have tripped on the uneven ground.

Karn was just about to ask her how she moved so surefooted when he caught a glimpse of her ears in the moonlight. She’s an elf. That’s the answer.

“What bothers you so deeply that I can hear your mind at work?”

Karn laughed before he answered, “There’s just so much I don’t know about you, Tala.”

“Exciting, I know. Just think about it: we have the rest of our lives to discover each other.”

The rest of our lives, Karn thought. How long might that be? We could both be dead in a few days.

It struck him as odd that it was the first time since he awakened from his injuries after Weiden’s Rise’s invasion that he had even seriously contemplated death. It gave him the chills.

Karn took a slow, deep breath. “Tala, I was curious… do you have any children?”

“No. I’m too young.”

“Oh.” Karn felt dense. “How old are elves when they normally… have children?”

“In human or elven summer cycles?” she asked with a smirk.

“I’m serious.”

“Such a strange question, General Karn,” she replied in a sarcastic military fashion. “Well, I guess elves normally don’t have children until they are a few summers older than I am now.”

“Because of your age.”

“Because of population,” Tala answered. “In theory, we could outnumber humans in ten or twenty summers. Yet we would never do that because of nature’s balance.”

“Here you had me thinking it was not possible.”

“Anything’s possible.” She smiled. “We’re getting close to the lake. Can you hear the water?”

Karn listened. He could hear owls hoot to one another, insects chirp and buzz, and even the wind blow as it rustled the autumn leaves. But he couldn’t hear any water.

“No.”

“Look ahead.” Tala pointed.

A dozen or more weeping willows encircled a lake that must have been close to ten times the size of Kel Tora’s fountain. The willows’ branches hung low, their tips in the water as a child would dip their toes on a warm day. An azure glow rose from the water and painted the trees. At first, Karn thought it was the moon’s reflection off the water, but as he looked closer, he realized that the glow he saw was not on top of the water but, bizarrely, underneath it.

“Do you see that?” His voice was loud with excitement.

“See what?” Tala asked.

“The water’s glowing.” Karn pointed as he stepped back away from the oddity.

“You can see the glow?” Tala’s voice spiked with surprise.

“Yes! What the hell is it?”

Karn reached for his sword, but Tala stayed his hand. “Humans are not supposed to be able to see that.”

“See what?”

Tala did not answer. She cocked her head and walked in a circle around him. Her gaze went up and down as she moved. Karn knew that look; she examined him. But for what? he wondered. What’s happening?

Once she completed her fourth circle, she took a decisive step to the water’s edge.

“Tala.”

She ignored him, knelt by the water, and scooped some into her hands.

“Tala?” Karn called again as she carried the water to him.

“What do you see in this water, Karn?”

Karn looked at the water. To his surprise, it lay still and dark, not at all like the water that lapped the lakeshore behind her.

“Nothing. I see nothing.”

“What do you see now?”

Tala turned her back to Karn and threw the cupped water from her hands back into the lake. As the water arched in the air, it started to shine, and just before it splashed into the lake, it sparkled with a dazzling blue light that vanished upon its return.

“That was beautiful.” He smiled. “Tala, I—”

“Karn, look at me. Humans are not supposed to be able to perceive this.”

“You said that already. What is it? Is this some sort of elf magic?”

“No!” she said sharply. “Not magic!”

“Then what?”

“I’ve shared with you many elven mysteries, but this is one of nature’s most precious secrets.” She paused and laughed. “You know. I’m happy you can see this. I am. It proves further what I’ve known since we met. It proves that you’re a good man, Karn.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, not sure how to respond.

“I want to tell you something more.” Tala stomped her foot and grunted with clear frustration. “Gah. I’m afraid to, but why should I be? We’re lifemates. I should be allowed to tell you anything. I-just promise me what I share with you here you’ll never tell to anyone else.”

“Of course, Tala.”

Karn watched her return to the edge of the lake and sit. She took off her boots and set them beside her with great care.

“A long time ago, there were many more creatures in this land. Dozens more than the ones you humans have documented.” Tala looked to the sky and drew a deep breath, which she pushed out through her pursed lips. “As you well know, humans are the most destructive of all animals. They don’t share nature; they exploit it. The human population grew and grew, displacing the other races, which gradually died off. One race that survived along with the elves and other forest creatures were the fairies.”

“Fairies?” Karn whispered to himself. He had heard children’s stories, but never thought any of them were true.

“Humans became fascinated by what they referred to as the Little Flower Children. You all tried to keep fairies as pets.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Fairy-kind was almost extinct when they went into hiding. And as the days and weeks passed, Mother Nature came to their rescue. She helped them adapt to their surroundings. She aided the fairies until at last they became invisible to the human eye.”

“Is—”

“They adapt so well to their environment that they become one with it,” Tala explained. “The water… that glow you see is from a fairy’s wings.”

Karn could not contain his surprise. “Amazing!”

“Everything your eyes see… every day is amazing. Nature alone is a marvel most humans take for granted. Learn to respect it and it will open up to you.”

He watched as Tala sprang to her feet, then pulled off her brown leather dress with one steady motion.

“What are you doing?” Karn asked.

“Going for a swim, remember?”

“In that?” He pointed at the lake.

“Of course. It’s only water,” she said.

Karn sat next to her boots and watched as she dove into the water. A heartbeat later, she rose to the surface near the middle of the small lake.

“I love this lake,” she cheered.

Something about the way the water glimmered made Tala look even more beautiful than usual. The odd underwater glow highlighted her naked body and made it easy to see her swim. Tala swam like a fish—fast and confident. Karn watched her dive deep, almost out of sight, only to dart, moments later, to the surface and back down again.

“Join me.”

“What?”

“Is my bare body not invitation enough, Nathan?” Tala called from the water as she raked her hair from her face.

Nathan? Who is Nathan?

“What did you say?”

“I asked you to join me, lover,” she cooed.

“No. Did you call me Nathan?”

“What?”

“Did you call me Nathan?”

“I cannot hear you! Swim out here if you want to talk to me.”

Karn stripped and dove in. The moment he hit the water he thrashed about like a child who had never swum before, and soon after jumped right back out. Over the chatter of his teeth, he heard Tala howl with laughter.

“Sorry.” She laughed so hard she could barely speak. “I forgot to tell…”

“You forgot to tell me…”

“Yes,” she laughed. “I forgot to tell you that the water was very, very cold.”

“I should—”

“You should what?” She tilted her head back. “You can’t catch me in here.”

“Then come out…” Karn’s words died in his mouth. Before his eyes, what looked to be a young woman yet one foot tall, emerged from the center of the lake. Although unprepared for the sight, Karn was sure this was none other than the fairy Tala mentioned.

The tiny creature flew high above the water and circled the lake once. When she flew by Karn, his skin tingled.

“No. No. No!” Tala called out in a panic as she swam to the edge of the lake.

Karn and Tala dressed as the fairy circled and then slowed down to hover a few inches in front of them. At that point, Karn could see her clearly and a sense of pure tranquility washed over him. She’s beautiful.

The little being had pale blue hair that was long and wavy. So tiny, he thought. So fragile, like a hummingbird.

As he stared, he realized the fairy wore nothing, save for a silver ribbon that slithered around her body as if it were alive. He felt as if he should look away, but then she darted in front of Tala.

Although full of awe, Karn was still stunned when the fairy spoke. To him, it sounded like a dozen children all whispering at the same moment, yet a margin out of sync.

He could not understand her language, but Tala listened intently. She knows the fairy’s tongue? When Tala replied, Karn was astounded and looked at her in bewilderment. She-something’s wrong, he thought as he watched Tala’s mood turn melancholy.

“Why tonight?” Tala whined.

The fairy’s voice grew louder—scolding and harsh when Tala spoke in the human tongue.

“Yes, I do,” Tala said to the fairy. “Well, it happened, Drae’Qu, and I’m happy it did!”

“Tala?” Karn called out to her hesitantly.

“Not tonight. Tonight… it was going to be special.”

Karn looked back and forth between the two as they argued. He wished he knew what was being said; Tala was angrier now than he had ever seen her.

“I’ve done everything you asked me to do for the past thirteen months! Please, not tonight.”

The fairy’s voice stopped, and the silence left in its wake was staggering.

“What’s going on, Tala?”

Before she could reply, the fairy spoke again.

“Greetings,” came a birdlike yet strong voice.

Karn looked to Tala for answers.

“Karn, this is Drae’Qu.”

“Greetings, Drae’Qu.”

“I am pleased that Tala brought you to my home. There is much you need to know before you confront the warlord Naraboo, or as you humans refer to him, Mustaffa.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I exist as Mother Nature’s conduit. I know much of this region, including your past… Nathan.”

There was that name again, Karn thought, though this time it sounded much more familiar to him. “Nathan?”

The fairy buzzed over to Karn and settled into a hover so close to his face that he flinched. He expected the glow of her wings to warm his skin, but there was only the cool night breeze as Drae’Qu’s glow faded slightly.

“Please, Drae’Qu,” Tala pleaded one last time. “Please, not tonight.”