This is a scene from Lifebearer, Book 4 of the Dragonhost Saga (work in progress). It is based on something I wrote in response to a writing challenge; When All Hope Is Lost.
Ellyneia crept into the herb garden at sunrise,. Her father had fallen into an exhausted sleep after another night trying to ease her mother’s pain. A gift that had made life together so blissful had become a curse.
The herbs and vegetables that had been her parents’ pride and joy had begun to blossom, but the flowers and berries were discoloured and shrivelling. Beyond the herb garden, the low-rolling hills were green with the growth of early summer, but there were patches in the blanket. It was the last summer of growth, the end of sowing, and harvesting, and reaping. The new seed would fall on barren soil, and Zantria would begin to die.
Mama’s sickness had become worse as the fertility faded away, a sickness of the soul and body together, and Papa was sharing her agony even more as he took her pain to himself to bring her relief. Every day Ellyneia had seen them suffer, and it bit into her soul.
“Never give up, Lyn,” Papa had told her. “As long as we try… we give her hope. Hope is keeping her alive.”
There was only one cure.
Ellyneia knelt beside the orhathun bush and said, “Please flower. You’re the only hope left for Mama.”
The jag-edged leaves of the bush were bright and green, veined with gold to her mortal eyes, and its buds were shining bright; but her Sight revealed the emptiness beneath. When… if this bush blossomed, it would be its last.
She wove Runes of Nature and Earth to give magic to the bush, and saw the flicker of life in the buds. For an instant her heart leaped... and then despair seized her as the life dissipated, and the buds remained closed.
She knew that there would be no fruit, not that day, not any other day.
Ellyneia threw back her head and sobbed her grief to the sky, grief for her mother and her father, her village, and the land, as years of wasted hope spilled tears from her eyes. They had invoked the Dragon and spoken the prayers, but it was gone and would never come back.
“Child, what’s the matter?”
She looked around to see a man looking at her from over the fence. He was Human, and young, surely not that much older than her, and it seemed strange for him to call her “child.” But she wiped her eyes, and then saw the scars on his face and on his forehead, and the weariness in his eyes... eyes of dark amber, and in them, the sparks of light that marked him as a Mage.
“Oh sir, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to disturb…”
“I’m sorry I called you “child,” but in your grief… No, it is no problem to me.” His voice was deep, with a sonorous lilt so unlike the familiar drawl.
He stepped sideways, to the gate, and let himself into the garden. Ellyneia quickly rose to her feet, and then paused in surprise, for her visitor was not in the robes of a mage; his clothes were simple, made of coarse cloth, travel-stained and shabby. He wore a sword on his left hip, its hilt brightly ornamented. There was a wolf at his side, little more than a cub, grey-furred, but with silver streaks running through its pelt in patterns that drew the eye and…
“Please tell me what is wrong.”
Ellyneia dragged herself back to awareness, to see the wolf looking at her with an almost quizzical expression.
“The goldenberry… it’s for mama… but it won’t blossom…” She looked up at the mage. “Why did the Dragon leave us?”
“Do’kha,” the mage said, and his tone was gentle, for all the harsh sound of the word. He turned to look at the bush. “It is a beautiful plant, but why do you need it?”
She blinked in surprise, and then it struck her.
“You don’t… By the Dragon, you’re, you’re an outlander!”
“I am Yastreb, from a very distant land, but part of me has come home. What’s your name?”
“Ellyneia… Ellyneia Venstreth,” she stammered. “But… there shouldn’t be…”
“There are.” He turned to look at her. “Why does the bush matter?”
She knew she should be running and shouting, calling for the Vigilants, and denouncing the intruder…
“Mama,” she began, trying to keep from breaking down. “Mama… she’s a true Adept of Nature. When the fertility began to fade away, she... she’s been in pain for months, and Papa… if you saw how much they love each other, and how he feels it too, it would break your heart, and now.. only the ohrhathun berries can give her peace, for a time at least, but… it’s gone… no hope left… after this year, nothing, no crops, nothing!”
“You love them very much,” Yastreb said softly, and reached out to cup an ohrhathun bud in one hand. “You deserve hope. Hope never dies.” And the bud slowly opened, and a rich berry bloomed, and he said, “This is for both of them.”
Ellyneia slowly reached out, and the berry fell into her open hand. She stared at the berry for what seemed for an eternity.
“How did you...” She manifested the Sight, and saw the rich golden glow suffusing the berry.... like the radiance she had seen in the scroll plates of Dragon lore...
Slowly, almost fearfully, she looked up at the stranger, and her legs gave way and she fell to her knees.
“Kyl’Vizhand!” she managed to gasp.
“No, child. I’m not the Dragon. I’m just a vessel. A host. That’s all. Go, Ellyneia. Help your father and mother. I have to go to Vasaban. I have to complete the work.”
Far away, there was shouting, and she heard the words clearly. “Search everywhere! I mean everywhere! Find him!”
His face twisted in rage and despair. “Yov tovoyou maht! I have to get away from here!”
“No!” She sprang up and slammed the gate closed. “You have to hide!” She looked around frantically. “No, not the shed, not the greenhouse... Inside!”
When she grabbed his arm, the wolf looked as startled as he, but both followed her.
* I don’t care! That was foolish!
* You only did what you thought was best, my brother.
* In other times and places! Not here!
* She is good and kind, my brother. There is no evil in her.
She led them inside the house and raised a finger to her lips. “Ma and pa are asleep. There, that’s my room. Stay there, out of sight. Both of you! Arevor, hush!”
She stopped in the hall for a moment, collecting her thoughts.
First, her parents. That was what he... the Dragon had said. Questions could wait. Who, how, why... There would be time. She would keep him safe!
She hurried to the kitchen, searching through the cupboard where the best utensils were kept, and picked out the bone knife that Mama used… had used; it seemed like years ago…
She placed the fruit on the rosewood platter, took a deep breath and said reverently, “Bless this gift, and bless the Dragon, from whom all life comes.”
Then, with infinite care, she sliced the berry into quarters, to reveal the core, glistening like morning dew.
She picked up the platter and edged carefully into her parents’ bedroom to see Mama lying still, breathing softly, in Papa’s embrace as they both slept. She was pale and thin, almost emaciated; he was bruised from taking on her pain.
“Mama, papa, wake up, please…”
Her eyes flickered open. He gave a slight groan. Even that slight movement hurt him.
“Lyn?”
“Mama, you have to eat. Just this little bit…”
Ellyneia placed a piece of the berry on her mother’s tongue.
“Lyn, you… you made it bloom… bless you, Lyn, bless you…” her mother said as the fruit slowly dissolved.
She fed her mother another strip, and then said, “Papa, you need to eat.”
He weakly accepted the pieces of berry, and whispered, “You did it…”
Ellyneia barely heard her father’s words.
She was looking in the corner of the room where her mother’s staff rested in its rack. It had suddenly blossomed, glowing with renewed life.
Complete the work, he said…
Someone was hammering on the front door. She was about to put the platter down, but thought again, and then set off for the front door.
“Hello, Zav,” she said to the Human watchman. “Is something wrong?” She peered past him, at the two others behind him. All were in light armour, and clutched glavands.
“I don’t want to alarm you too much, Lyn, but there’s a stranger in the district. Scarred face, wolf companion. He has to be found. If you see him…”
She shushed him urgently. “Keep your voice down. Ma and Pa are still sick. No, I haven’t seen any strangers. I’d yell pretty loud if I did.”
Zavrann shrugged. “All right. But stay alert. He has to be found. Ah... tell them… I hope for the best.”
Yastreb cast his mind back to his home in Kamenistiy, and to Koschei’s home, now half a world and almost another life away.
Ellyneia’s room was more like a study. Two dozen large books in uniformly bound covers were carefully arranged on shelves of polished oak, and an elaborately shaped wooden rack on top of a simple table held five scroll plates.
She was little older than he had been when Koschei had chosen him, but she was seemed far more learned than he had been at that age.
The little black dog that Ellyneia called Arevor was watching them cautiously from under the neatly made bed. For all his attempts to calm Arevor, it had scurried away to hide the moment that it scented Zabeelushka. At least Ellyneia had quelled its fear.
He sat down on the plain wooden chair by the desk and wondered what would happen. Ellyneia had sent the guards away... and in doing that, she had effectively condemned herself to death, if he was found.
I can’t stay here. Leave after nightfall... all I need from them is a map so I can work out a safe path to Vasaban.
The door opened. Ellyneia was standing in the hallway. In her arms was a long staff of dark wood, ash or oak, with bright living flowers blossoming from one end, and vines curling around its length.
“This hasn’t lived in years, since mama fell sick. Thank you. Until I saw this, I couldn’t be sure that mama was well.”
“I’m glad.”
“So what now?”
“As I said, I need to get to Vasaban, to finish...”
A cheerful voice interrupted. “Lyn? I just have to say...”
Ellyneia froze as a tall dark-haired man in crumpled clothing, whose unshaven face was split by a broad smile, walked up to her side. His smile faded into surprise, then into mild exasperation. “You’re a bit young still to have a boyfriend in your room...” Then he frowned. “Specially not one who’s been in too many scraps! What’s your name, son?”
He had not planned to put anyone in danger, but events had overtaken him. Plans are like prayers, Radul had said. Be prepared for disappointment.
Before he could answer, Ellyneia said, “It’s not what you think, papa.”
“Then what is it?”
“It’s best that I explain,” Yastreb said, and he was not surprised to see the man react with surprise at his accent.
“The fleg?”
“Watch your mouth, papa!”
“Sorry, Lyn, but...”
“He’s an outlander, papa. And he’s why mama’s not in pain anymore.” She grabbed her father’s hands as he recoiled in shock. “Please listen to him! Please! Yastreb, this is my father, Palvereon Venstreth.”
“It’s an honour, sir,” Yastreb said gravely.
“Uh... sure.” Palvereon reached out to shake Yastreb’s hand. “Yeah... best you explain.”