Read Elfin Online

Authors: Quinn Loftis

Elfin (29 page)

“He wasn’t full of darkness, he wasn’t a killer. But he was always powerful and still just as sure of himself.”

“You mean to say
that he was just as much of a cocky ass back then as he is now?” Elora interrupted.

A low chuckle came from Tamsin. “Yes, I suppose that is a good way to put it.”

“So he walked away from his responsibility knowing that he would become an assassin, knowing that he would be evil?” Cassie’s eyes brimmed with tears as she pictured a broken King, a broken Trik.

Tamsin didn’t answer, he didn’t have to.

Elora looked from her friend back to Tamsin.

“What does it mean?” She asked him.

“What does what mean?”

Elora rolled her eyes.
“Okay we may be human and not old as dirt, but we do still have active brain cells. You can’t tell me that you figuring this all out now isn’t significant, that there isn’t some purpose in this information.”

Elora
and Cassie watched Tamsin as his lips tightened into a thin line.

“I knew it,” E
lora said as she shook her head. “What is it with you pointy eared leaf huggers that you can’t just spit out the truth all in one sitting?”

Tamsin let out a deep breath and in a very human gesture rubbed his forehead where wrinkles of stress were currently marring his flawless face.

“There is more, much more, but this isn’t the time.” He raised his hand when Cassie started to object. “Later, let me at least show you to the room you will be staying in.” He stood and waited for the girls to do the same. Seeing that they weren’t going to get any more information from the Light Elf King, they stood up and followed him out of the room and back into the hallway. They walked from the throne room down a long twisty corridor, brilliantly illuminated by the same crystal-like walls. After several turns they arrived before a large shimmering door. It carried the same theme of the ice sculpture and diamonds and, though it should have appeared cold and uninviting, seemed to welcome them in. There was peacefulness about the castle that neither Cassie nor Elora had ever experienced. The door opened on its own accord as they approached and they followed Tamsin inside.

“I take it that whatever it is you do, it is lucrative,” Elora mumbled as she looked around the large bedroom.

Cassie’s eyes roamed the room as she winced against the pain that still attempted to overwhelm her. There was a large four-poster bed made of rich wood on the far right wall of the room. The posts and headboard were intricately carved with scenes of the forest so lifelike that Cassie half expected them to come to life at any moment. The silver blankets that lay across the bed beckoned to her, tempting her to curl up under them and push the pain and worry away. The walls were silver and shimmered as the candle light danced across them. There was a beautiful desk made of the same wood as the bed on the opposite wall. The carvings in the wood appeared to match the ones in the bed. In the center of the room was a large white couch with pillows stacked around it, clearly made for serious lounging. There was a fireplace across from the couch and a blue flame flickered to life as Cassie stared at it. Under different circumstances she would have been impressed, but currently she just couldn’t bring herself to care.

“I will leave you to get settled. There are clothes in the wardrobe,” Tamsin pointed at a tall cabinet that stood to the right of the desk, “and you should find that they will all fit.” As he opened the do or he looked back at Cassie. “Please don’t give up on him. We will figure all of this out.”

Cassie stood frozen as she watched him close the door behind him. Elora sunk down onto the large couch and laid her head back. Cassie walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out a tee shirt and shorts. Syndra must have stocked it if there were such human clothes. She pulled the dress off and her heart fell as she saw the ring Trik had given her fall to the floor. She had forgotten it. She picked it up and stared at it. She wanted to throw it out the window, she wanted to hold it close, she wanted so much at that moment. In the end, she couldn’t part with it. Call her crazy but it was the only thing she had of him. She slipped it on her finger but turned it so that the top of the ring was facing her palm so that if someone saw her hand it would look like all she wore was a plain band. She walked over to where Elora sat and collapsed next to her friend. She was so tired and she hurt all the way to the marrow of her bones. Her arms felt like lead and her brain was having a hard time processing all of the information that Tamsin had given her. She laid back and closed her eyes thinking she would just rest for a moment, and before she knew it she had slipped off into darkness.

~

The leaves flew past his face and the warm breeze brushed his skin as he ran.
The pain continued to course through him and it was becoming a part of him. He was running as fast as he could, running from a darkness that was determined to keep him cold and alone. He was tired of being alone. He was tired of feeling empty. Cassie had changed him. She had made him feel. She had filled him up and now he couldn’t go back to what he had been before, without her. He ran and ran, his footing was sure and his movements swift and lithe as is common of his race. He had been running for hours and it wasn’t until he saw the tree with the same missing bark, in the same place as the last one that he realized he was running in circles. He hadn’t made any progress, hadn’t gotten any closer to his goal.

He stopped.
Trik’s breath was slow and even and he looked like a man who had simply just walked down a hallway, rather than sprinted for hours. He walked over to the tree with the missing bark. He felt like he should know it, like he had been there before.

“Triktapic
.”

Trik stepped back from the tree his head whipping around. He’d heard his name, a whisper on the wind, but it had been his name.

“Triktapic.”

Stronger that time as the wind began to pick up speed. The
limbs of the trees swayed and the leaves rustled, sounding as if they were speaking a language only they understood.


Show yourself,” Trik called out into the forest. The wind continued to blow, growing stronger as he stood in the forest of the light elves. Suddenly, the sky darkened and thunder boomed overhead. He showed no fear, as nature around him began to unravel. Lightening cascaded from the dark sky, striking the ground as the sky opened and rain began pouring down. Trik leaned his face back and closed his eyes. He felt the first drop hit his face and suddenly he was covered. The rain pelted him relentlessly and Trik knew this storm was for him. He felt the water washing away the dark places, carving through them like a river carves through a mountain with its overwhelming force. The thunder and lightning continued their dance in the sky as the rain continued to drench everything below. Trik fell to his knees, driven there by the weight of the memories being unlocked one at a time. Each door was forced open as the water pushed its way into every unclean place in him. Every life he had taken, every lie he told, every deed done in the shadows. He was stripped bare, his very soul exposed and he saw what he was, he remembered what he had been, who he had been. And he wept. The storm raged around him, the trees reached up with their braches to the life giving water, all of the realm cried out for it, cried out for restoration. And Trik knelt on the soaked ground, an assassin, once a King, now humbled by the memories that had been covered in the darkness of his selfishness.

He
wept for his race. He wept for the destruction he had caused when he left the throne. He wept for the hurt and pain that he had caused and that he had allowed. He tilted his head back and threw his arms out and wailed with everything in him. He yelled until he had no more air left in his lungs to do so. And when his voice was silenced, the rain stopped. The wind died down and the thunder and lightning were gone. Everything was still, waiting. All of nature seemed to hold its breath as the wounded King sat broken before them. And then in the stillness Trik heard it again, his name.

“Triktapic,” the voice boomed through the stillness
. “The greatest of our creation, the appointed King of the Elves, the one in whose care was entrusted all that we love, we are calling you back.”

Trik felt warmth on his skin and opened his eyes
, only to have to shield them against the radiance before him. The Forest Lords stood before him. There were three men, tall as the trees around them. They had long hair like the race they created, only theirs was the color of the earth below their feet. Their eyes shown emerald green, bright and rich like the leaves that covered the branches. They wore robes of white that billowed around them, though the wind was calm and still. They looked down at Trik and he felt not their condemnation, but their hurt, and sadness at the life he had chosen. He felt their love, their longing to see him be the great King they had destined him for. He felt their forgiveness, if only he was willing to accept it and to walk away from the life that he had lived for so long.

“My lords
,” he said as he bowed his head. “I am sorry. I have failed you for so long.” Trik felt the darkness in him stirring, the rebellious nature in him trying to rear its ugly head.

“Triktapic,
such a time has come that you are to be humbled. We have allowed your rebellion for long enough. We love you. We created you for a purpose and it is time for you to fulfill that purpose. Let us heal the brokenness inside you. Let us be the strength you need. Let us bear the burden that falls on your shoulders.”

Trik took a shaky breath in as he allowed their words to wash over him. He wasn’t alone in his walk as King; he never had been. And now his people needed him, the human realm needed him, and the Forest Lords would stand with him and guide him.

“We have given you a Chosen wort
hy of her station. She will be Queen to your race. She will need your strength and you will need her compassion. It will not be an easy union for love is a choice. True, abiding, unconditional love is always a choice. Though you will struggle, it is through that love that you will become the King that you need to be—the King that you must be. Hear us now Triktapic, King of the Elves, you will crush the evil one who desires to enslave the humans. You will tear him down until he is but a crumb at your feet and through his destruction you will unite your people. There will no longer be light and dark elves, but only the Elfin.”

Warmth flowed over him
again and he felt loving arms wrap around him and he was enveloped in the love of his creators.

“You were created for a purpose.
It is your choice; it always has been and always will be, but we will never let you go, for you are our child and we love you.”

He sat still in that knowledge.
Suddenly he was released and his eyes snapped open. The Forest Lords were no longer standing before him, and yet he still felt them. He pushed himself up from the ground and stood. Everything around him looked brighter, as if a film had been wiped away from his eyes and for the first time in a very long time, he felt peace. The pain was still there, but he welcomed it because it proved to him that she was real, his Queen, his love, the other half of his soul. She was real.

“Run Trik, run through our forest. Listen to the wind and the leaves. See with new eyes what has been given to you and yours ; the beauty in the land, the joy in the animals and the hope that comes after the storm. Run, she needs you.” The words danced in the air around him and he did, he ran. He didn’t think, he just ran. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tyndril and Tao running with him. He felt their urgency and knew something wasn’t right. Cassie was in trouble and that thought spurred him on even harder. He pushed himself until the trees were but a blur and his feet scarcely touched the ground and still he didn’t know if he would make it in time.

~

Lorsan was sitting in his throne room when the rumbling began. The room began to shake and the walls of his great castle shook.

“What is going on Lorsan?”
Ilyrana asked as she came rushing in to the throne room wide-eyed and nervous.

Lorsan didn’t
answer. His head snapped up as a booming voice rolled through the air.


He is coming. Your time has reached its end and the true King shall be restored. He is coming.”

Lorsan lunged to his
feet as a feeling crept inside. It took a moment for him to realize what the feeling was—fear.

“Lorsan!”
Ilyrana shouted.

His eyes met hers and he knew that she saw that fear and that made him angry. He would not be made to look weak, not in front of his Queen, not in front of anyone. Anger, sharp as a blade and hot as the flames that burned on the sun, raged inside of him.

“Get me
Vashti!” Lorsan roared.

“Lorsan tell me what is going on now!”

“Triktapic knows.”

Ilyrana’s
hand flew to her mouth as she gasped.

“He remembers?”

Lorsan nodded. “He remembers and the Forest Lords are backing the dried up King. I need to speak with Myrin. I need to know Trik’s history. I need to know what the Forest Lords have up their sleeves and my gut tells me it has something to do with that human. Get me Vashti.”

“You’re going to lure the girl out?”
Ilyrana asked.

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