When her work was finished, she went to see her mother. It was not something she particularly wanted to do, but she craved the reassurance that being in her mother’s house—the house she grew up in with Aphen—would provide. But on this day Afrengill was dark-tempered and distant, moving like a ghost through the cottage while Arling sat watching, saying almost nothing to her daughter, so far gone inside herself that she almost wasn’t there. Arling tried speaking with her, hoping for just a few words in response that would make her feel as if she belonged here. But her mother couldn’t give her those words, and after a short while she left feeling none the better for having come.
She ate dinner alone, listening to the silence of the cottage and thinking of her sister. She glanced out the window repeatedly, watching as the light dimmed and the darkness settled in, knowing what was coming, what she must do. She tried more than once to rationalize her way out of going to the Ellcrys. What harm could it do to wait another day? Or even two? But she knew better than to give in to such arguments. Waiting would only make it harder and confirm that she was as much a coward as she feared. She could not afford to feel any less secure and capable than she already did. As frightened as she was of doing this, she was even more frightened at the prospect of what it would mean if she gave in to her fears. She might not want to do this, but doing nothing would be even worse.
So when it was suitably dark and most of the city’s inhabitants were in bed or on their way there, she wrapped herself in her travel cloak to ward off the chill and headed toward the gardens. She walked quickly, afraid that any delay or diversion would be enough to tip the scales and send her back to the refuge of her home. It took only minutes before she found herself standing on a slight rise at the eastern edge of the gardens, looking down to where the Ellcrys glimmered crimson and silver in the pale moonlight. She hesitated then, trying to think what she would say, to gather her thoughts so she could make the best argument for asking that another be sent in her place. Even the thought of trying to do so made her queasy, her stomach churning at the idea of seeking to be relieved of a responsibility she already knew was hers.
Though it wasn’t one she had asked for.
Taking a deep breath, she crept into the gardens and up to the tree. She stood beneath its canopy and stared, momentarily entranced by its perfect beauty. She waited for the tree to respond, blinking against the brilliant wash of starlight that spilled out of the night sky and streamed through the silver and crimson limbs.
Finally, she knelt, bowing her head in open acknowledgment of her position as a servant to the order of the Chosen. She closed her eyes and waited patiently, hardly daring to breathe, listening to the beating of her heart.
Then a slender branch brushed her shoulder, and the familiar voice whispered inside her head.
–You are returned to me, child–
Arling shuddered. “I am returned.”
–You are so frightened–
“Terrified.”
–Your fear caused you to flee from me–
“I am ashamed of this.”
–You need not be. Your fear is real and justified. I was once as you are. Frightened and confused. I, too, fled–
Arling opened her eyes and looked at the tree. “You fled when you were told what was expected of you?”
–Even before I understood. I was a young girl, like you. I barely remember it now. The tree spoke to me. She touched me. I grew frightened of what that meant, and I fled–
“But you came back?”
–Why are you so frightened, child? There is no pain in what I ask of you. There is so much good that you can do–
The voice was calm and measured. It filled Arling with a sense of peace that she found oddly reassuring. She shivered at the feelings it roused in her.
“I am not meant to do this. I am meant to be a Druid, like my sister. It was what I planned all along to do when my time as a Chosen was finished.”
–You would be a Druid so you could help others. Like your sister–
“I would. I would do that instead.”
–Even though you would be helping so many more by doing what I have asked? Even though you would be saving a world–
Arling hesitated, not knowing what to say. “Someone else would be a better choice.”
–You say this to me, knowing I am the one who makes all the choices? Knowing I chose you because there was reason for doing so–
Arling squeezed her eyes closed. “Was I made a Chosen because you knew you were dying and needed another of the Elessedil line to replace you? Is that why I was chosen?”