To Those Who Wait (5/9)

1850

Eli

It was hot.

That was all I could fathom as I traipsed through the forest. It was familiar, yet monotonous. You've seen one forest, and you've seen them all.

I questioned myself again; why, in the middle of July, was I taking a hike to Crévoux, France? I couldn't say the reason.

I had assured myself it would be cooler in the mountains, but I hadn't taken the proximity to the equator into account. It was cooler up north, but Southern France was brutal. Wait until you get to the mountains, Eli, I told myself. It will be worth it.

The train had taken me to Digne. From there, I walked. And ran. And when I tired of running a horse's pace, I walked again.

The forest was nice, I supposed. Unchanged from my last visit. Since I had left- I didn't even know how long ago it had been- I had been all over the world. I had met so many people, so many wizards. Our lines had spread. I had met hundreds of thousands, not even exaggerating, who shared qualities of the lords and ladies I had known in the Middle Ages. In the Americas, Asia, Africa even. I had met shapeshifters and General wizards and Illusion artists, everyone was represented.

Even the psychics, however sparsely.

Studies had been done by the underground magical society; why was Clairvoyant Magic so rare? Was it because Avelina (I would flinch when I heard her name) waited so long to have children? Not many thought so. Most thought it was because of Gawain's murder at the hands of Cedron and his Dark Magic; the Clairvoyant Magic in Gawain was still settling into the young man's body, and when it was ripped from its first living host in centuries, it caused irreparable damage to the Magic. When it passed into a four-year-old Avelina through his arms, it was shattered and in desperate need of stability. It found balance in her, but many of her children kept the magical life span and held no Clairvoyant Magic. They found it would pass over some of her children (Avelina had had many over her life thus far) yet root in others, skip generations, be prevalent in some, weak in others.

Clairvoyant Magic was very fickle.

Other studies had been done about the Magics; why, with two magical parents of different types, could a child either display traits of one or the other, or even both at times? Some children had an affinity with one, but displayed traits or behavioral habits of the others. It confounded all, and made my head spin.

Thus, I avoided all of the studies thereafter.

I shook my head and emerged from the trees. Crévoux was a tiny town, a commune, of perhaps fifty or so people. It was nestled in a valley in the 'French Alps,' as people had named them. They were 'the mountains' when I was growing up. I didn't care about the names.

I looked down on the valley, mapping out the old manor in my mind. It was so long ago. I hadn't come back, as I had promised. I've never broken a promise I'd made her. And I could finally keep this one.

Because now there was a new enemy for the magical realm to hate; a descendant of Cedron who went by the name of 'Lord' Aleron. He had brutally murdered thousands of wizards in the late seventeen-hundreds, tens of thousands from eighteen-twenty to eighteen-twenty-five. He amassed many followers, mainly Dark wizards who had been misunderstood. Persecuted. Just as I had. Naturally, some shapeshifters joined his cause as well; therefore, I could take no sides. I cared for all of my descendants, no matter what side they chose. I could only hope they'd have the sense to pick the right side.

The harsh discrimination had been going down for my kind; gradually, achingly slowly, but it was receding. Some of the right people, I presume, had begun to accept shapeshifters in the world. Not necessarily like them so much, but accept them as a part of life.

I could deal with that. As long as there was no blatant persecution to my children, I could deal with the inaccurate judgements about my kind. There were judgements about every type; the General wizards were stuck up, the Illusion artists were compulsive liars, the Defensive practitioners and psychics were weak because they wouldn't fight as much. I was glad the shapeshifter hatred was falling only to stereotyping.

It meant I could go home.

Of course, I was a fool to think she would still be there after all this time, but it was a good place to start.

Wagons moved up and down the streets of Crévoux. The main square was where the manor house once stood. I skirted along the edges, just watching the people and horses going by. I was expecting to see the stares of those unfamiliar with a newcomer, but I didn't expect anyone to recognize me.

"Eli?" someone gasped incredulously. "Eli! Is that you?"

The voice… A man's. It was soft, shy, as though it was barely used. I remembered one person who had a voice like that.

"Abrahil?" I ventured, without turning my head.

He laughed. "Most people call me Abraham or Abram now." The shrug was apparent in his voice. "If my name is too hard for them, it is too hard."

I turned to face him, and saw he had barely changed. A bit of age in his face, but other than that, everything was the same. His smile was small, nervous. "A nice bunch of descendants you have," I commented.

"Oh? You've met some of them?" He blushed.

"Yes. The Specters are shy, quiet, antisocial," I counted off the traits. "Just like you."

"Just like me." He laughed again, but didn't meet my eye. I raised an eyebrow.

"It is…" he swallowed. "It is good to see you again, Eli."

"Same here," I shrugged. And we were silent. I shuffled my feet and looked back to the bustling square.

"Eli, I owe you an apology," Abrahil blurted out. I looked at him, and he ducked his head.

"An apology?" I repeated. I had not been expecting an apology… from anyone.

"Yes." He pursed his lips nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. "Look, I wasn't the most… the most tolerant of you, way back when. I shouldn't have judged you, and I'm sorry. Please forgive my actions?"

"Well, at least you weren't the least tolerant," I shrugged. "But thank you. I do appreciate it. And I wholeheartedly forgive you."

He sighed in relief.

I smiled. "I still have a little scar on my shoulder," I commented. "From where you shot me? Remember?"

Abrahil's face went crimson. "How could I forget?" he chuckled, and looked to the floor. His eyes widened. "Eli! You're wearing shoes!"

I laughed. "Yes. I keep up with the times surprisingly well."

"I can tell!" he grinned.

"So," I stretched a little. "Where is… everyone?"

Abrahil blinked. "Well, surely you've heard? For some of them at least?"

"Not really."

"Well, Marellus died in the Crusades," Abrahil sighed. "And Cedron perished due to the Plague. Aven was killed over seventy years ago, she tried to protect someone where she shouldn't have gotten involved." He shook his head sadly.

I blinked. "And my father? My brother?"

Abrahil nodded and grinned. "They're still around. I think Matthias lives in Paris; I visited him once or twice. Parnell moved to London. Edana, thank God," he laughed, "has moved somewhere in Germany; I don't know where. We are separated by mountains! And you'll be happy to know Morgaine is nowhere near here, I don't know where exactly. She wanted to see the nature of the world."

I nodded, words forming on my tongue. I couldn't say them. Not yet. The moment was here, but I couldn't say anything about Avelina. "That is a relief."

He smiled. "So how are you getting by? I have a small shop that suits me, over on the corner, myself."

I shrugged. "I do the occasional odd job," I said. "Hunting for food myself helps enormously. I have a few places I stay, and my sons and daughters are constantly inviting me and providing for me." I laughed a little. "I didn't expect anyone would ever do something like that for me."

"They're your descendants," Abrahil shrugged. "They love you."

"Yes. I guess they do."

"So what kind of girls did you end up marrying?" Abrahil yawned, leaning against a wall.

"Eh," I swallowed, unsure of how to answer Abrahil, the noble knight, who had remained celibate until marriage. "I never truly got married, really."

Abrahil's eyes widened as he looked at me. "What?" he asked incredulously.

I tugged at the collar of my shirt. "Meaning, I had a few affairs, naturally. Helped a king who needed to father a line but was, ah, unable. And a few of us technically wed, but they never quite worked out in the end. I fathered their children, that was all."

"I don't believe you," Abrahil shook his head.

"What do you expect?" I shrugged. "I didn't wholeheartedly love any of them. Sure, I loved them, they were lovely women, all of them, but I never loved them."

"But they were your wives-"

"Mates," I corrected. "I only plan on having one real wife in my life."

"All that time you insisted on not being considered an animal," Abrahil snorted. "And you use a term like 'mate.' So who is this dream wife of yours?"

"You know."

"After all these years?"

I nodded.

Abrahil blinked, and nodded slowly. "Ah. I can't say I'm surprised. Loyal to a fault, like a dog."

"You never told me where she is," I murmured.

"I thought you knew?"

"I haven't spoken to her in centuries."

"You really haven't heard at all," he breathed incredulously, "have you?"

"Abrahil," I whispered. "Where is Avelina?"

"Um…"

"Abrahil," I repeated more forcefully. "You told me where everyone else was, even if you didn't know."

"But you-"

"Where is Avelina?" I demanded, looking him straight in the eye.

"I don't know!" He shrank a little and looked away from me. "I don't know."

"You don't know," I spat. "You couldn't have just said that-"

"Ever since she was taken-"

His interruption shut me up for a good half minute. "Taken?" I hissed, bristling. "What are you talking about?"

Abrahil ducked his head. "Well… She… She lived around here, you know. Traveled around, but always came back here after a certain amount of time. Anyway, a few years ago, maybe about eighteen-thirty, she went out for a walk. And she never came back. Wasn't married at the time, so we, that is, I and a few of her children, went to look for her. We found some signs of a struggle, so we felt she must have been snuck up on, but… but she was gone." His breathing shuddered, and he couldn't meet my eye. "We tried tracking her, her children tried to reach out mentally…"

He finally looked up at me, a sense of failure shining in his eyes and weariness lining his features. "Eli, I'm so, so sorry."

I leaned against the wall of the building we stood in front of and wrapped my arms around my stomach. I felt like I was going to be sick. Scratch that- I was going to be sick.

"Eli…"

I shook my head desperately and slid down to the ground. I put my head between my knees and tried to calm my distressed stomach. Avelina! I cried in my head. Avelina! I should have come sooner!

Once I felt I could open my mouth without vomiting, I asked Abrahil who took her.

He shook his head. "We don't know."

I swallowed and nodded, but something was nagging me. "I have a different problem with this whole thing."

"What is it?"

I shook my head. "H-how do you possibly sneak up on a Clairvoyant?"

Abrahil shrugged. "I've heard it's possible. If they're distracted."

"Av-" I broke off. I couldn't say her name aloud again. "She never gets distracted."

He rolled his shoulders. "I don't know," he said slowly. "Do you know where we found the signs of struggle?"

"No. But you're going to tell me anyway."

"We found them in the woods. Near a cliff."

I froze.

"When Avelina would be around here, she'd go there all the time. Said that, from that spot, you could see the most beautiful sunset in the world."

I died inside.

"Something tells me," Abrahil murmured. "She was thinking about something other than a sunset, hm?"

Oh God. It's all my fault. She was thinking about me. It's my fault she was distracted. It's my fault she's missing, or worse… I couldn't bear to think about what was worse.

Abrahil crouched next to me and wiped my eyes with a handkerchief. "Eli, stop that," he soothed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "She'll turn up." He hesitated, as though he wasn't sure if his next words would help or harm. "She still loves you, you know. She always did."

It helped, but not much. "T-thanks. You probably made a great father," I hiccupped, shrugging him off. I shook my head and rose from the ground. "I have to find her."

"Eli, no one's seen her in years," he sighed. "She'll turn up eventually. I don't want anyone else getting hurt. I wouldn't-"

"I have to find her," I repeated.

"Abrahil!" someone cried. A young man, very young, maybe even a teenager, ran forward, clutching his head. "Abrahil, help me!" His amber eyes were anguished, and he fell to his knees in front of us.

"One of her descendants," Abrahil whispered to me. "Very gifted."

"Abrahil, I keep hearing it!" the boy wept. "I keep hearing the screaming!"

"What screaming?" I asked, trying not to cry again. He looked like her. The shape of his eyes, the shade of his hair, the general brightness in his face. His hair was a little too wavy, but, otherwise, it was the same.

He looked at me and shook his head. "I don't know! A powerful Clairvoyant, I guess! I tried tuning it out, and it normally works, but then I tripped. I lost focus, and I can't block it out again!"

"Just relax," Abrahil advised him, ruffling his hair comfortingly. "Relax, and it'll fade out. Alright?"

The boy hiccupped and nodded, breathing in and out. He still looked distressed.

Abrahil crouched next to him and patted his shoulder, helping him to breathe. The boy gulped down a little laugh and looked up at him. "W-when have you been so t-touchy-feely?"

The shadow knight sighed and shook his head. "I'm not. But when one of you little rascals needs help, I'm here."

I saw a bit of resemblance in their faces; they had the same nose, the same strong chin. Something kind of clicked in my head, and I raised an eyebrow at Abrahil in confusion. If he had-

Abrahil followed my thought process with one glance at the boy, and he laughed softly. "No," he assured me. "I didn't dare. And she wouldn't even want to. One of her descendants, though, took a liking to me, and somewhere down the line, someone gave us little Louis here."

"Huh?" Louis cocked his head, which apparently began to swim, as he began to hold it again. He groaned and tears began to roll down his face. "I don't know why it's so loud today," he sniffled. "Even on other days, it's not nearly this loud! I wish I knew who it was," he frowned somewhat wistfully. "She sounds miserable."

"She?" I pursed my lips. Could it be…?

Louis nodded. "I'm pretty sure it's a girl." He looked me over. "Wait, who are you? I don't recognize you."

"My name is Eli," I whispered, still somewhat numb from learning about Avelina.

Louis' eyes widened. "Eli?" he gasped. "You're…" He looked to Abrahil. "He's…?"

Abrahil nodded. "Yes."

Louis looked at me with an awe that made me uncomfortable. "My older sister loves the stories about you," he sighed. "Avelina wouldn't share any of the memories, but some of the girls begged her enough, so they all got together and had some kind of girly party storytime thing, and they came home swooning." He made a disgusted face.

Abrahil covered his mouth to keep from laughing. I was sure my face was crimson. Avelina told stories about me? The sad part was that I could see Avelina making the exact same face as Louis; she hated when people made a big deal of romance and love as well. Love was love, a sacred art and feeling, not a sideshow attraction for everyone else to swoon over. Just you two.

"I never met Avelina," Louis shrugged. "But my sister loved her. She looked all over for her. And she was upset, and she kept saying, 'what if he comes back and she's not here?' and all the girls were upset because you two are their favorite love story or something."

Pressure built up behind my eyes. My heart was racing, my breathing uneven.

Abrahil frowned, and put a hand on Louis' shoulder. "You should run along home," he suggested. "I have to talk to Eli, alright?"

Louis nodded and got to his feet. "My head's feeling better now," he commented. "Thanks! Bye!" He ran off.

I fell heavily against the building. "F-for a descendant of yours," I breathed, "he sure talks a lot."

Abrahil laughed. "He's a good boy," he grinned after the teenager, but looked back at me in pity. "I'm sorry you had to hear that. Avelina was really uncomfortable telling them, but they insisted on hearing about her love life. She complained and regretted it aloud to me for months afterward."

"Girls will be girls," I sniffed, and shook my head. "I'm going to find her."

Abrahil sighed. "I won't be able to stop you, will I?"

"No."

"Good luck, Eli."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It grew darker and darker, and the redness was fading from the sky. I sat on the old cliff, taking my shoes off for old times' sake. I recalled her smiling face, her laughter, her opinions on life and others. Everything was crisp and clear, perfectly preserved. It stung my mind.

I shook my head, and recalled a different instance, further north, a few years after the incident had occurred. It was one of the last times I'd spoken of Avelina aloud. Nearly a thousand years, and I'd barely spoken of her.

The young man was alone. Sitting in the tall grasses, fiddling with a stalk or two.

"Papa," my five-year-old Annaleigh whispered to me excitedly. "Papa, I bet'cha I can get him. Please, Papa? You haven't let me get any traveler in months! I can make him piss himself, I know I can!"

I rolled my eyes. "No breaking skin this time," I warned her. "I had a lot of explaining to do to the wife of the bleeding merchant. You can scare this one, nothing else, understand?"

"Yes, Papa," she nodded, shifting immediately into a tiny little wolf. I couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, even if it was misplaced. She'd learn how to behave in time.

Breathing for a second, Annaleigh propelled herself forward with a howl, leaping onto the young man. He let out a scream, and flailed around, trying to avoid my daughter's flying paws. His wavy, red-brown hair fell in shambles around his face, his pale skin growing paler by the second. "Mon dieu!" he shrieked, scrambling away.

I gasped when I got a glimpse of his face. Without hesitation, I shifted into my own wolf-form and lunged forward, taking Annaleigh by the scruff of the neck.

"Papa!" she barked, squirming in my jaws. "Papa, let go!"

"Stop that," I growled, and set her down a little ways off. "Go chase a rabbit, sweetheart. I need to talk to this one."

"Papa-"

"Go."

She pouted and turned on her paws, pointedly smacking me in the face with her tail.

I shook my head and turned back to the young man. He was backed up against a tree, terrified. "Y-You're going to eat me now, aren't you?" he stammered. "I must say, I probably taste horrible. And my children taste worse, so you wouldn't want them either-"

"No," I shook my head, shifting back into a human. "No, I'm not going to eat you."

The young man screamed, and collapsed to the ground before he recognized me. "Eli?" he gasped. "Brother, is that you?"

I smiled at my twin. "Hello, Matthias. It is good to see you again." From an outsider's standpoint, one would not even think we were brothers, and especially not identical twins. But when we were younger, everyone always had difficulty telling us apart. Then I got lost. My skin tanned and my hair grew wild over six years, while my brother's similar hair was quite tamed. Our eyes and our features were the same. That would never change.

Matthias rose from the ground and embraced me tightly. "I heard what happened," he murmured. "But when I tried to find you, you had left."

"I had to," I sighed.

"Father was distraught. Again." He shook his head. "You must stop doing that to him, hm? The next time you see him, you must stay for longer than a few days or months."

"I'm sorry," I shrugged. "I couldn't stay."

"What, exactly, happened?" Matthias was bewildered. "I heard something to do with you and Avelina, but-"

"I love her," I said simply. "I love her, and people hated me more because she loved me back."

"Oh, Eli," my brother sighed, and hesitated. "Then you won't want any updates from home, I take it."

"Tell me."

"But-"

"I can take it," I assured him. "It's been seven years."

He frowned. "She has since wed," he eased out. "And they have two children. A son and a daughter."

"I am happy for her," I nodded.

"No you aren't." Matthias pursed his lips. "I know you. I know your facial expressions, and I know when you fake things."

"I am happy for Avelina," I protested, and looked away. "I told her she should wed after I was gone."

"You regret it."

"Somewhat." I shrugged. "But I have done the same, to an extent." I looked back into the woods. "Annaleigh," I called. "Annaleigh, you can stop hiding. Come out here."

My little daughter slid out from behind a tree, ducking her head shyly. Matthias gasped. "She looks like you," he murmured.

I had to smile. "Annaleigh, apologize to your uncle, please."

"I'm sorry," she huffed, kicking at the dirt.

"Why are you sorry?" I prodded.

Annaleigh shot me a glare full of daggers. "I'm sorry for attacking you, and trying to make you piss yourself," she sighed.

"So you were that little wolf?" Matthias laughed. "All is forgiven, little one."

"I'm not little!" she snarled, and I covered my mouth to keep from laughing. "Mama says I'm gonna be as tall as Papa!"

"Probably not," I chuckled, ruffling her hair and tickling her. "You'll always be my little girl."

"I'm telling Mama!" she screeched. "I'm telling Mama you said she was wrong!" She dashed off into the woods. I was sure her mother, Léa, would laugh as well. We had a good relationship, I supposed. But I thought of Avelina from time to time, and I felt awful about that. I was once coerced into telling Léa about Avelina. She was surprisingly understanding, and had only hugged me and told me, 'I hope you can find a place in your heart for me, and for your daughter.' I told her of course I could, and it was true. I did love Léa. But… I didn't know.

I wanted to get over Avelina.

I wanted to just be able to pretend it never happened. I wanted to learn to love someone else, like Léa, the same way I'd loved her. But I always realized… if I learned to love another that way… she would always be mortal. She would die eventually. I couldn't put myself through that kind of loss.

"Eli?" Matthias stood at my shoulder, shaking me from my unfocused daze. "Eli, are you alright?"

"Hm? Yes," I assured him.

"No."

"Perhaps not."

"If it makes you feel better," my twin shrugged. "She doesn't seem to be terribly enamored with her husband. She loves her children, naturally, but she doesn't dote on her husband like Aven dotes on hers, or like Marellus' wife dotes on him. Or-"

"Or how Mother loves Father?" I suggested.

He smiled. "Yes. Oh! By the way! They have since had two more children, each with Illusion. Mother was pregnant when you stopped back last time." He looked at me. "She was upset that you didn't visit her."

I sighed. "I couldn't. I couldn't go back."

"But you could make love to Avelina every night?"

"I never made love to her," I bristled.

Matthias laughed. "Your face is red," he sniggered. "I believe you, trust me. But you could have at least let Mother know that you were alright at some point."

"I know. And I'm sorry."

He hugged me suddenly. "I miss you terribly, brother," he whispered.

I held him tightly. "I miss you too," I said, and I did. "I miss you all."

"Morgaine and Edana the least, if at all."

"Yes."

"And Avelina the most, I'm sure."

"No."

"No?"

"In truth, I miss you the most, Matt."

I leaned back in the grass, blinking hard. It killed me that I hadn't seen my brother in so long. I missed him so much. He was my equal, and always understood my feelings, even if the logistics didn't make sense.

If he were there, what would he say? What would he do if he was in my position? I heard his voice in my head.

You've always got to go with your gut, it echoed. No matter where it'll lead you.

I would listen, I decided.

I fell asleep near that cliffside, drowning in memories of my youth.