Chapter 27: The Royal Chambers
The vast white marble room was bathed in warm evening light, turned golden and copper by the reflecting stone of the mountain outside. Elathan, awakening from a deep, healing slumber enhanced by magic, rolled to his side under the black silken sheets of the giant four-poster bed dominating the room. He winced when he felt the pain. At first he couldn’t locate it, for it raced through his body like a flood wave, strong enough to kill a mortal. But he wasn’t dead, nor was he dying; and most astoundingly, in his own palace chambers which he hadn’t occupied for centuries.
When he moved his right arm, the pain concentrated in his hand, and it was so intense he couldn’t even open his eyes. Finally, it ebbed away to a dull throbbing sensation, and the prince’s ragged breathing started to calm. As soon as his head was clear enough to think, he remembered.
Igraine’s silver eyes – they made her even more beautiful, yet he missed the vivid green that had reminded him of his beloved forest - widening in fear when she shoved him aside, saving him from being killed by his own dagger. The river goddess. Pain, blood. So much blood. But he had been relieved that it was his, not Igraine’s. Her captivating, expressive face over him, tears streaming down her cheeks while she had cradled his head in her lap and forbidden him to die, calling him “stupid elf” again. How he loved the bold way she talked to him. Just as he lost consciousness, she was suddenly gone, and he fell back on the blood-stained grass, instantly knowing the gods had taken her from him after all.
His soul cried out silently when he searched for her with his mind and found that their connection had been severed. Igraine, his human slave of pleasure. Mate. Blood of his blood. He couldn’t feel her presence anymore. Even imprisoned in the dungeons under the castle he had always sensed her, felt her desperation and fear when she had sought out the gargoyles for their help. When they had attacked her, tore her flesh, her pain had been his own, but nothing compared to the agony he experienced now. Incomplete without her, he shattered into a million fragments, and loneliness spread like a disease in the dark, bleeding place that had once had been his soul. The loss of a hand didn’t even come close to the torment that ripped him apart now and made him roar to the heavens like a wounded beast. Opening his eyes, he raised his right arm to look at it. When his blurred eyesight cleared up, he couldn’t believe what he saw.
He had expected a bloody stump, bandaged with linens, but instead there was a hand. Although it looked exactly like it, this wasn’t his hand, but a new one – and it was made of liquid silver that felt and moved like living skin. Amazed, he turned the thing from one side to the other, moved his fingers, one by one, and it felt like a part of his body, sensitive, flexible flesh, sinew, bone and skin. When he watched the hand closely, he saw his own blood pulsating in the veins. When he gently blew at it, the sensation made the fine hair on his wrist stand up, and he shivered with delight. “How can this be possible?” he whispered, unbelieving.
The prince had been so deep in thought that Calatin had managed to enter the room through a side door without Elathan noticing him. He cleared his throat and grinned when his friend’s startled gaze fell upon him. “I made it,” he simply said. “You like it?”
“You made this hand? But how –“
Calatin shrugged. “Magic, of course, with some additional help from a very talented goblin blacksmith. I’m still working on it. In time, I will find a spell to change the color so it will look like real skin again."
“It feels real,” Elathan murmured.
“It is in a way. It is closely connected to your own flesh and blood; no one will be able to claim that you are not whole.”
“I’m not … whole. And I'll never be again,” the prince answered.
Seeing the pain in his friend’s eyes, he bowed his head. “Forgive me, my Prince. My regret is beyond words. We all grieve for the loss of Lady Igraine. She fought like a warrior queen, Sire. But she would have wished you to claim your rightful place as our king. Your people need you.” He knelt down before Elathan, unsheathing his sword and raising it in his open palms to honor his new sovereign. “My King.” With that, he stood up and left the bedchamber, silently closing the door behind him.
Queen, Elathan thought bitterly. Calatin spoke the truth. Igraine was no slave. She had always been destined to become his true mate, standing by his side brave and strong, flooding the darkest places of his soul with the light of her love. Surprisingly, he doubted not for a moment that he would have made her his queen, despite the fact that, throughout the ages, never had a king of the realms offered his hand in marriage to a human woman. “What a queen you would have made, sweet Igraine,” he said, rising from the bed and stepping over to one of the high, arched windows. As he looked out, a blood-red sun went down over his kingdom. It was vast and beautiful, with mountains so high they nearly touched the stars already visible on the night sky, lakes so clear and deep the Sidhé called them “Mirrors of the Gods”, reflecting their faces when they looked down from the heavens. Far away, a landscape of soft hills gave way to a green sea of forests, a sight that filled him with a sudden longing to go home.
Home. But there was no place he could call his home anymore. Home had been wherever she was.
Wetness welled up in his eyes, ran over his face in dark crimson rivulets and stained the marble floor. Suddenly, there was not a sound to be heard from the woods far below, and not a single night bird sang to call his mate. The mighty river on the other side of the mountain stopped flowing to the sea and went still. Nothing disturbed the silence that had fallen over the lands as an elven king wept tears of blood for his love.
The next full moon shone brightly from a black, starless sky when Elathan stood on the highest battlement of the palace, watching the darkened horizon in the north. It was the night before his coronation, an occasion that had been on his mind for ages. Now, he didn’t even care.
Silently, Calatin stepped up beside him. He saw the prince’s hollow stare and sighed.
“You are thinking about her.”
Barely visible, Elathan nodded. “More than that. I will leave at dawn. If I do not return, you will be king, Calatin. Maybe it always was meant to be you.”
Calatin’s eyes widened. “So you really intend to search for her. You’ll try to bring her back from the lands of the dead. Why am I not surprised?”
Elathan shrugged. “My life has become worthless without her, Calatin. I feel … broken. I wouldn’t be a good king for our people, not much more than an empty shell.”
“But how will you find her?”
“I have an idea where to start looking. The druids once told me about an island, far up in the north. It’s hidden amidst a lake, lost in the mist. Only those with a strong will and pure intentions are meant to find it.”
“I heard the stories, too. But Sire, this island is like a portal to the eternal lands. It’s a place for souls who are tied to this world by such strong bonds that they aren’t able to move on, kept in place by love, hate or the hunger for revenge. But are you aware that even if you find Igraine, if she’s still there, she won’t even recognize you? How can you convince her to return to the elven realms with you? I heard that once you’re there, you forget everything, even your own name. And what’s even more dangerous…”
“I could forget everything, too, and never find my way back. I know. It’s a risk that I’m willing to take. At least I would be joined with her in this other world, even if we didn’t recognize each other. Thank you, Calatin,” the prince said, smiling sadly and placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “But I will return with Igraine by my side or not at all.”
Sorrow flashed up in the magician’s eyes, yet he nodded, quickly hiding his pain behind a reckless grin. “At least I will get all the women now. The king can take as many concubines as pleases him, am I right?”
“Aye, my friend, but only one queen. Pray that the gods will help me find mine, wherever she might be right now.”