can bring us to the brink of disaster? There has to be another explanation. There has to be a cure.’
‘Idiot!’ stormed Rebraal, pushing himself up from the bench, pain spearing across his face as it must have through his shoulder. ‘It has always been this way. Why do you think the Al-Arynaar exist? The TaiGethen? Why? To protect the elves from exactly this possibility. I have read the texts as you have not, Ilkar. I bothered to learn the one weakness in the glory of the harmony, of Yniss, Tual, Orra and every God in which I place my faith and trust.’
‘And what is it?’
Rebraal’s face fell and comprehension dawned on his features. He sat down very close to Ilkar.
‘You really don’t feel it, do you? And that’s why you never came back as I did.’
‘Feel what?’ Ilkar could sense the disappointment in his brother.
‘I see it now. And you’re probably not alone, are you? Every elf who stays on Balaia must feel like you do.’ Rebraal sighed, understanding bringing him a little peace.
‘Like what?’ Ilkar wanted to shake him but calmed himself, letting Rebraal order his thoughts in order to explain. He’d seen this in his older brother before. He had always been so thoughtful, so deep in his belief. It was one of the things Ilkar admired about him most.
In front of them the fire hissed and crackled as a light rain began to fall. Ilkar looked up into the heavens. The cloud wasn’t heavy; it would soon pass.
‘There is a text you will have heard of. That handed down by Yniss to Tual and from Tual to the elves when they were spawned from the rainforest and built Aryndeneth.’
‘The Aryn Hiil.’ Ilkar nodded.
It was the text the priests and then the Al-Arynaar guarded most jealously. The Words of the Earth, if you believed it, written by Yniss himself. Only those of a certain attainment were allowed sight of it. Rebraal would be one of them.
‘Yes. The Aryn Hiil describes elves and their place in the world. It tells that elves should be the guardians of the forest. That we should be the denizens blessed by Tual and charged with keeping the land and its creatures safe. That with this honour was given long life - so the ways of the forest could be learned and passed to the next generations - but that we would not be numerous, only wise and careful. And that we would be further honoured by being one with the forest and the air and the magic. That we would feel all these energies within us and this would give us the strength to fulfil our task for Tual.
‘But with it came a warning. That should we stop believing and let vine and rat gain dominion over our sacred sites; let sloth govern our minds and ignorance guide our hands, then this gift would be taken from us. And we would shrivel and die, our long life taken and our families lying dead beside us where they had lived. It would be the Sorrow of Elves, and only by turning back to Yniss could we be complete again.
‘It is happening, Ilkar, and we must put it right.’
Ilkar pondered. Parable it may be but it made awful sense. This was no contagious plague. It struck at random. At the young and old, the sick and healthy. It had no rhyme or reason. It just happened.
And even if he couldn’t quite bring himself to believe that this was some kind of divine retribution, it was enough that Rebraal and Kild’aar did. It meant elves everywhere would not rest until the balance was restored, until the harmony had returned. It meant that not one elf mage would leave these shores to help Julatsa.
‘And what is it that I don’t feel?’ he asked.
Rebraal smiled. ‘The forest and the sky and the air. It doesn’t suffuse you. Only the magic does. That is why you didn’t come back. I had no choice. I was pulled by the strings of my life.’ The smile faded from Rebraal’s face. ‘But do not think it makes you immune from the Elfsorrow. You are still one of us. Next heartbeat the Sorrow could take you, or me, or Ren’erei.’
Ilkar hadn’t considered the possibility of his own death and it was an uncomfortable thought. He took a sip of his drink. ‘And you think that whatever these strangers have done is enough to spoil the harmony and bring this warning to pass?’