Tomas looked at the three elves and knew it would be a while before Acaila had wisdom to share. He left the contemplation glade and walked through Elvandar. Across the way he noticed Subai and Pahaman of Natal talking. Rangers rarely talked to anyone besides other Rangers and occasionally the elves, so Tomas knew that in Subai, Pahaman had found one he considered kin.
The laughter of children pulled Tomas like a lodestone. He found a dozen little ones playing a game of tag. Tomas saw his son, Calis, sitting next to the woman from across the sea, Ellia. They sat close, her hand in his, and Tomas felt a warmth toward his son. He knew that he would never father another child, for it was a special magic that gave life to his son. He had played his part in destroying the great threat to all life on Midkemia, the Lifestone, and now his fate was his own. But Calis would never father children, so Tomas’s line ended with his son. Yet at play were two elven children, Tilac and Chapac, who seemed family. Yet even the names of the boys, alien on the ears of those born in Elvandar, reminded Tomas that there would never be a place in the world where he entirely belonged. He smiled at Calis. Like his son, he had forged a place for himself, and was content with it.
Calis waved at his father and said, “Join us.”
Ellia smiled at Tomas, but it was a smile tempered with uncertainty. Rid of Ashen-Shugar’s Valheru mind during the Riftwar and cleansed of many of the lingering effects of that meld of human and Valheru by the Lifestone, Tomas nevertheless bore the Valheru stamp upon him. To any of the edhel—the elven races—there would almost be an instinctive response, a subservience that bordered on fear. Tomas knelt next to his son. “There is much to be thankful for.”
Calis said, “Yes.” He glanced at the woman at his side and she smiled. Tomas was almost certain eventually they would wed. The boys’ father had died during the war in Novindus that had led to the invasion of the Kingdom. With a very low birthrate and a high percentage of marriage by those who underwent the “recognition,” the instinctive knowledge of who their mates were, there was little hope for a widow to find a second husband. As Calis had lived most of his life among humans and was half-human himself, there was no mate for him among his mother’s people. Tomas felt that fate had chosen to deal kindly with his son by bringing this woman and her sons to Elvandar.
Tomas said, “There is much to concern us with the news Subai brings.”
Calis looked down. “I know. I feel as if it might be wise for me to return to the Kingdom and to again serve.”
Tomas put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “You’ve done your share. I think it’s time for me to return to the Kingdom.”
Calis looked at his father. “But you said—”
“I know, but if this threat is what you and I both know it could be, then if we do not deal with it now, down near Ylith, we will deal with it someday, only we will be fighting here.”
Ellia said, “This is the same madness that destroyed my village across the sea.” Her accent was odd by elven standards, but she was mastering the tongue of her ancestors. “They are evil beyond measure. They are black of soul and have no hearts.” She glanced at her sons playing. “Only a miracle sent Miranda to save us. They had killed all the other children in the village.”
Tomas said, “I’m waiting for Acaila’s wisdom on this, but I think I must fly to Sorcerer’s Island and take council with Pug, as well.”
Calis said, “With the demon destroyed, I thought it but an issue between men.”
Tomas shook his head. “If I understand a tenth of what I have been told, it will never be merely an issue between men. There will always be far greater powers behind those men, and at each turn those powers must be balanced.” Tomas stood up. “I will see you at supper?” Calis said, “I dine with Ellia and the boys.” Tomas smiled. “I will tell your mother.” He wandered through Elvandar, home for most of his life, and as he did every day, he marveled that he was allowed to live here. If there was a more beautiful place in creation to live, he couldn’t imagine it. This was part of his reason for vowing to never leave, to always be here to protect it, for he couldn’t imagine the world without Elvandar.
He continued and found himself returning eventually to the contemplation glade. Acaila had roused himself from his meditation and was walking toward Tomas. His expression was clouded with worry. Tomas was surprised, as the ancient leader of the Eldar rarely revealed his thoughts this casually.
Tomas asked, “You’ve seen something?” To Tathar and the other elf, Acaila said, “Thank you for your guidance.” He took Tomas by the elbow and said, “Walk with me, my friend.”
He led Tomas through a quiet part of the woods, away from the kitchens and shops, near the edge of the inner circle of Elvandar. When he was certain they were alone, Acaila said, “Something dark still lingers in Krondor.” He looked at Tomas. “Something wonderful, too. I cannot explain it, but an old power for good verges upon returning. Perhaps the universe is trying to put itself right.”