Wishsong of Life
Chapter 3: Recall
It seemed that Shady Vale was gaining a reputation of the movement that scurried through the village at night, though only a single family was really aware of it. People here were simple and lived by day and since it was so far out of the way - a three days travel at least from the nearest town - travelers didn't usually show up at all hours. The streets - which were only slightly better than beaten paths separating buildings - usually emptied almost completely around dusk and remained that way until morning when that farmers woke to attend to their tasks.
Jair sighed in slight annoyance at the redundancy of his line of thought as he easily navigated his way in the dark to the inn. His eyesight had been among the physical improvements his body had gone through, gaining a hint of the night vision Helt had been so recognized for. The change wasn't very drastic, but like so much else, Jair had worked hard to hone it to its greatest potential.
The only question that nagged at Jair's mind was why. The Ildatch was destroyed and Allanon had told Brin that their task was complete. In fact, Allanon had barely given him a second glance when they'd seen him last, not that the druid had the greatest track record of keeping people informed. So why did Jair have the burning feeling that he should be ready for this peace to fall apart and that he would regret not being ready for crisis this time around? It just didn't make any sense to the Valeman, no matter how much time he just sat and thought about it.
Was this how Shea, Flick, and Wil spent their lives once their journeys had been completed?
Did Brin at least feel the same as him, even if his predecessors hadn't? The destruction of the Ildatch was a shared experience after all; that had to mean something. Wasn't that what separated them from the rest of their family in regards to Allanon's need of them, that the task was impossible to accomplish with Brin alone? What if…
"You will be mine, Child of Life…"
Maybe that was part of it. Jair didn't really feel the weight of the name the King of the Silver River had used until a few months after he purified the river. The King was even more mystical than Allanon in Jair's eyes and once he'd thought about it he'd been unable to shake the sensation of there being more to the name than saving the life of the Silver River and his sister. And if there really was more to it, what did that mean for his future? Was he actually in danger living as he was with no protection? But who could he possibly entrust his safety to like that? Could he even go through with asking it of somebody? Even if he could talk about this with Brin, her complete unwillingness to use the Wishsong would only get her killed. And though he may trust Rone to do the job, he knew the Prince was forever hindered by his experience with the magic of his sword. And the only other person he felt he could ask had been gone from his life for two years; Jair even doubted that the tracker would ever consider coming near him again.
Jair sighed deeply as he pulled his key to the back door of the inn from a pouch at his hip that he used to carry a variety of herbs and ointments around with him. He'd had the bag for years now, his father having made it for him when he first started teaching his children some of his Healer remedies, but had only started carrying it with him most of the time when he returned from his journey.
"…Reiph is coming for you…"
He brought it with him tonight mainly because he had aromatic herbs that worked wonders for headaches brought about by stupid dreams that freaked him out and made him walk around the Vale at ungodly hours of the morning. This wouldn't be such a big deal if he didn't have to heat the herbs and crush them into a paste for full potency: a relatively loud and extremely stinky task to have to complete in a quiet house full of people trained to recognize the scents and uses for every plant in existence.
As he made his way to and around the dark kitchen - not bothering to light any candles and make waste of the few minutes it takes for his eyes to fully accommodate seeing in the dark - he mechanically went through the motions of making the aromatic paste as his mind finally went to the actually content of the dreams that had woken him so upset.
For lack of a better word, the feeling of his dream had been evil. He had freaked out immediately as his mind recalled images of his sister under the control of the Ildatch and he feared that something dark was beginning to control him. As he became more aware of himself and listened to the sounds of his family sleeping throughout the house, he was able to calm himself down enough to realize that he was still every bit himself as he had been the night before. So then what had brought about the darkness that had seemed to engulf his entire being?
"Reiph…" the name slipped from Jair's lips. Honestly, Jair could have continued sleeping with the images of destruction and pain the dark dream had wrought, but the voice that called out to him had deeply disturbed him. The voice had completely encompassed him mind, body, and soul; Jair even swore he could feel it touch the part of him that was his magic. It had spoken to him with intimate familiarity that made Jair want to wretch as well as a dark intent that he recognized from another creature that was as much a source of his nightmares as the deaths of his friends.
Forcing his mind past the nauseating recollection, Jair recalled the thought that had occurred to him upon awakening: he's destroying me. He was at first confused by the instinctive thought before, but now that he'd had time to think carefully he saw that he was most likely onto something. The feelings that the dreams wrought were familiar: they were at the core of the pain that he seemed to identify himself by these days.
But what did that imply about this Reiph?
What else was this man capable of if he really existed outside Jair's tormented subconscious?
And how did he manage to get distracted enough to nearly obliterate the paste?
Jair sighed in relief as he brought his full attention to what his body was doing at the moment and realized that the paste was not crushed beyond usefulness, remembering easily that if the herbs were crushed too much, their aroma lost too much potency to have any effect lasting longer than about half an hour. While that wouldn't bother Jair, who usually didn't need anything very strong for headaches, he was hoping for the side effect of this particular blend to kick in so he would be able to sleep through the rest of the night without dreams.
He added a few dry leaves of the herbs to the mixture and crushed it just enough to release their nectars which would complete the concoction. He pulled out a small bowl and moved the paste into it, then washed out the dishes he'd used. He walked out to the dining area and over to the front desk, nodding in greeting to the man dozing at the counter. He moved behind the counter just enough to grab one of the room keys, checking quickly which rooms were occupied. He turned and walked toward the stairs not bothering to say anything; this had happened a few times before and so it wasn't necessary to explain himself.
He made his way through the dark hallways and up the stairs to the second floor where all the rooms were and made his way to the one his key was for. He unlocked the door opened it just enough to slip through and shut it softly behind him. He set the bowl on the small bedside table and pulled the pouch from his belt, then removed the belt and pulled off his worn leather tunic he had slipped on in lieu of it being warmer and darker than any of his cloth ones.
Having not bothered putting on shoes, he sat down on the bed with his back against the headboard and opened his shirt at his chest. He reached over to the bowl and dipped his fingers into the sticky substance, already smelling the strength of the aroma now that he was in a smaller room. He placed a spot of the paste on both sides of his collarbone, massaging it gently into his skin so it wouldn't get spread out by his shirt's movement while he slept, then applied the paste to the skin behind his ears, and finally applied it to both temples. He could already feel his body relaxing and his mind gradually cleared.
There were definite benefits from having a paranoid Healer for a father.
Jair didn't have to look out the small window beside the bed to know that he had overslept; the sluggishness of his body's movement was enough to tell him it was nearly lunch. He growled a sigh of frustration but knew that it was inevitable between not sleeping well lately and then finally using herbal remedies to sleep. The paste he'd made didn't keep you asleep, but just allowed the mind to relax so that it could reach deep sleep and allow the body and mind to recover itself.
"Maybe I should have ground the potency out of it," Jair mused as he pulled himself out of bed and walked to the door to make his way to the wash room at the end of the hall. After a splash of cold water on his face to wake himself up completely and a washcloth with soapy hot water to thoroughly clean the areas he'd applied the paste to, he walked back to the room and gathered his belongings.
He adjusted the collar of his undershirt to cover his chest, tied his pouch back onto his belt, and grabbed his tunic and the bowl and left the room. Stopping only long enough to turn and lock the door behind him, Jair made his way back to the counter and returned the key to its hook.
He was about to turn to the front door when he subconsciously picked up the sensation of something being different about his surroundings. He immediately began scanning the dining area - where many people were conversing idly while taking their lunch - with his eyes and ears. He didn't really feel like anything was particularly wrong or dangerous; just different. It wasn't until his eyes had almost made a complete sweep of the room that he spotted the source. His mind screamed in familiarity as he spotted a cloaked gnome huddled in the farthest corner of the dining room. He didn't let his gaze linger on the gnome for very long in case it was looking in his direction, but was instantly aware of why he would subconsciously pick up its presence. He'd spent too long hiding and running from them to not build up an awareness of them even if he didn't really see them unless in he was visiting Leah.
"Hey Jair!" the sound of his name pulled him back to full awareness and he turned toward the kitchen to see one of the cooks walking toward him with a wave. "Your mom and sister stopped by about an hour ago and I let them know you'd stayed here last night."
Jair let out a sigh of relief that was in no way for show. The gnome had provided only a slight distraction from the slight concern of how he was going to handle telling Eretria why he'd spent half the night at the inn.
"Thanks a lot. You didn't have to do that," Jair said.
"I know I didn't, but I know your parents and Brin. They take mothering to a whole new level when it comes to you."
Jair managed to crack a genuine smile at that. "Yeah, I heard that my parents were even relatively sane until I came along."
"Well, you are enough to drive anybody out of their mind." The humor left the man's expression almost instantly. "Are you feeling alright? You haven't stayed the night like that in a long time. And don't try and say it was nothing; I've used that paste before." The man pointed to the bowl still in Jair's hands and the younger man almost sighed in frustration at completely forgetting to return it to the kitchen before leaving.
"I've just been having problems sleeping the last couple nights and I didn't want to freak my family out by making this up at home."
The man raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Then you should have taken a shower before heading home. Wil and Eretria are the ones who created that mixture and they'd know you used it once you walked into the house." He walked up to Jair and held out his hand for the bowl, which Jair handed over without comment.
"It's no big deal," Jair replied calmly.
His response was a sad sounding sigh. "Hey kid, I'm not trying to get on your case; I figure you've got enough of that from your family. But I honestly wouldn't mind seeing a bit more of you. You know we all miss you around here."
Jair looked at the man in confusion. "I'm here practically every other day."
"I don't mean you coming and keeping the place running. You used to spend any free time you had here, talking to whoever happened to come through. We got good business whenever you were around to take interest in anything. It's not like business changes out here in the Vale, but the atmosphere sure has taken a beating these last two years." Jair remained silent at the observation. Sure, he'd noticed how much more bland the inn had become since his return, but he'd just chalked it up to just how badly he'd been subjected to just how bad people in the world could become.
"I just grew up. It happens to all of us," he finally responded after a long minute of silence.
The cook, a man Jair had known almost all his life, would never be fooled by such a bland excuse but he would accept that it also wasn't really his place to pry if Jair didn't want to elaborate. He simply nodded his acceptance that this was probably how things would be from now on with the youngest Ohmsford and turned back to the kitchen. "Stop by for a real visit sometime soon, kid."
Jair sighed heavily as he turned back to the door and walked out into the streets, his feet automatically taking him in the direction of his home.
He'd only passed three houses when his instincts put him on alert of being followed. He stopped, his body settling into a stance that would allow him to easily move in any direction, and focused all his attention to his hearing. His elven enhanced sense alerted him to everything surrounding him and he knew immediately that whoever was following him was on the opposite side of the house he'd just passed. With the location determined, he listened carefully to determine just what he was up against.
Light steps, meaning any armor would be light. Short strides on two feet. Barely any hint of clothing, indicating that the person was experienced in stealth. That also meant they would know how to wear weapons so there wouldn't be any noise. The direction had shifted, now heading directly to him.
Reluctantly, Jair inhaled and prepared himself to use the Wishsong, already restricting how much power would go into his voice so that whatever came out would remain an illusion. He was tempted to simply become invisible since the house still cut off his follower from sight of him, but he decided against it since he couldn't cover his tracks and he wasn't confident enough in his control over that particular song to push it to reality where he truly wouldn't exist in order to make tracks.
Making a decision, he turned toward the house and waited for his follower to come into sight. If someone wanted to take the time to follow him, he wouldn't give them something to threaten him with, like his family. He'd face them here and now and get it over with. Anyway, he was pretty sure that it was the gnome he'd seen at the inn and therein was the possibility that it was someone he wouldn't have to worry about after all.
It only took a few steps for the cloaked figure to appear around the corner of the building and there was a pause in their movements as the person realized that Jair wasn't moving and looking toward them.
"Any particular reason for shadowing me? I'm sure you could find a more entertaining target in the woods," Jair questioned immediately, not wanting to give the other a chance to gain much head on him.
"I never would have pegged you for one to face someone following you head on with your history, boy," the familiar snide tone that came from within the hood didn't come as a surprise to Jair since his instincts would have never failed to alert him if he was in any real danger. That and he was just too tired to muster up much strong emotion, so he settled to just stand and wait for Slanter to give some explanation as to why he was in Shady Vale following him…again.
The silence continued long past Slanter pulling the hood from his head and revealed a face that hadn't changed all that much since Jair had last seen it two years ago. Once he realized that Slanter could hold his tongue long past Jair's patience had run out, the Valeman sighed heavily. He had to remind himself that the gnome had lived his life to himself and didn't make a habit of sharing information.
"What are you doing here, Slanter? I had you pegged as someone who didn't hold on to pointless acquaintances," Jair's voice was flat and he mentally cringed at how harsh his words were. He really was glad to see Slanter again, but as much as he tried he couldn't convey that. His mind wandered slightly to every time Brin had come to see him every time he was troubled and realized that it was the same with her and Rone. As much as he loved seeing them, something in him refused to show them too much.
Slanter narrowed his eyes slightly at Jair before shrugging and walking over to the Valeman. "Not even going to treat me to anything?"
Jair lifted an eyebrow, "I would if you didn't treat yourself to the food at the inn. Nothing at my house can beat eating like that."
"Your family owns the inn, don't they?"
"Yes, but my father doesn't use their kitchen to make his Healer concoctions. All our dishes have been permanently engraved with the smell and taste of herbs."
Slanter chuckled dryly. "I can understand how that would lower a meal's quality. Can you at least offer a decent bed?"
Jair felt his irritation rise slightly as the gnome seemed determined to not give him any hints as to why he was there. While he was used to Slanter not divulging anything more than necessary unless upset, he didn't feel that he could deal with that at the moment. But no matter how annoyed he was becoming, a rare happiness was building in him as well. He couldn't deny how happy he was to see Slanter again and he hoped that the gnome would stay long enough to maybe completely dispel the uneasiness that was beginning to overtake his life.
"Slanter, please..." Jair began with a sigh.
"Don't sweat it, boy. I'm here for a reason, but it's not one I'm about to go into in the middle of the street."
"Yeah, well anything you have to say I don't want discussed around my family. I'm already having enough problems convincing them that what happened couldn't be avoided if they wanted Brin alive. My father's just found it convenient to blame you and Allanon for taking us out of Shady Vale."
"So what are you suggesting?" Slanter seemed even more annoyed than Jair was.
"The woods leading up to my house are distanced enough from any homes. But you can start talking now; everybody is out in the fields." The Valeman turned and started walking in the direction of the forest trail that led to his house.
"You've become too demanding. I think I prefer you as a prisoner rather than a friend." Jair rolled his eyes slightly and gave Slanter an expectant look. "I came this way from Arborlorn."
"What were you doing with the elves?"
"One good thing about traveling with the son of King Ander: you're welcome as long as you aren't the one who got him killed." Even though Slanter spoke in good humor, Jair fliched at the words. Once the heartache passed, Jair berated himself for being affected so much. "And that's what brings me here."
Jair stopped walking as his breath hitched. Although he wouldn't know what it was for sure until Slanter clarified, the Valeman was uneasily confident that what the Elven king wanted was to meet him and get the story straight from him.
He was also confident that he couldn't face someone who held his father in such high respect whom he had failed by allowing his son to die. At the same time, he knew that something like this was bound to happen eventually; Edain had been the only one of his guardians who had family that he knew of. Facing up to his mistake was inevitable.
"Hey, boy, you alright?" Slanter's voice barely reached his awareness, but managed to pull him from his thoughts.
"Yeah, I'm fine. So what exactly brings you here calling from Arborlorn?"
"King Ander wants to meet you. Says that not meeting the son of Wil Ohmsford when Edain committed so much to you felt like unfinished business. And since I was there, he figured sending a familiar face to deliver a summons would be easier to take than sending an elven courier." Slanter's tone was slightly bitter towards the end, telling how little he appreciated being used for matters of convenience.
"And you agreed? That's not like you."
"I know, but I guess I was just looking for an excuse to pay you a visit." Something in Slanter's voice told Jair that there was more to it than that. "You know I'd never come this far out of the way unless I had a good enough excuse. If you moved at least to Leah, then you might actually see more of me."
"You say that as if it's a pleasant thing. Honestly you become too much to deal with as time goes on." Slanter shot the Valeman an annoyed look but was cut off before he could defend himself. "You can break it to my parents and sister."
Slanter tripped over a root he'd been too distracted to notice. He shifted his weight instinctively to keep from falling to the ground or into to Valeman standing - and grinning over his shoulder - in front of him. After he took a second to be thankful that he was a gnome and not some lanky elf, he couldn't quell the sense of forboding the prospect of throwing this subject at the rest of the Ohmsford family. When he'd arrived in the Vale the night before and had asked around the Inn if Jair would be around that evening, he'd had enough dirty looks from those who lived in the village that he'd went to his room as soon as he'd finished eating. If that was the reaction from people who were of no relation to the boy, he was almost afraid of those who had a good reason to want to protect Jair.
Not that he really blamed their protective attitudes: he'd fallen prey to the urge to defend this boy too many times.
He still blamed the magic he knew virtually nothing about despite the amount of exposure he'd had to its use. He'd refused any offers Jair had made to explain how his magic worked, always feeling that he'd either not understand or wouldn't hear any real facts, and he didn't regret his choice.
At the same time, Slanter had the feeling that the elder Ohmsfords would be people in which knowledge would represent power, and the Tracker was walking the path of ignorance. Jair's voice cut quickly into his thoughts.
"You shouldn't worry too much: Brin will probably give you some support and her opinion holds a lot of weight with my family. Besides, even if Mom and Dad are upset, I doubt they'll do anything to show it until you're not around. Rone could go either way."
"You realize how little that helps me, right?"
"I never said I was trying to help. I don't really believe in buttering up facts unnecessarily."
Slanter passed the Valeman and walked quickly toward the house that was now barely in view through the woods. Jair followed at a much more relaxed pace."
"I know I haven't really given you the impression to prove this, but I really am happy to see you, Slanter. There aren't many people around that don't have to ask why I've become the way I am and it's a relief not to hear the same questions." Slanter halted and turned toward Jair only because he could have sworn someone completely different was now following him. He nodded briefly in response before turning away.
In all honesty, Slanter wanted to ask what had happened to the Valeman in the two years since they'd parted. The silver eyes and streaks of hair confused him greatly, and he could swear that Jair had somehow acquired more elven blood in his body. Then there were the instances, like the one that had just passed, where it seemed like nothing of the youngest Ohmsford that he'd met and taken prisoner those few years ago remained. He wanted to ask so many questions, which was completely against everything he was, but he held himself back for fear that any inquiries would lose him any welcome in the boy's life.
Apparently he wasn't too far off.