Legends of Belariath
Izzura
"Cennis, Cennis, wake up, we need to go."
"But I'm sleepy Izzura." the young moriel whined, younger even than her years, for she had grown slowly, small, frail, even her mind seemed younger, different.
"I know, Cenni, but we need to move, now, before we are found." Izzura explained, for the tenth time this week.
"I want Ilhar."
Every time Cennis asked for Mother it froze something inside Izzura, but there was no time for grief, they had to make it to their GrandMatron's Home before their Aunt found them, it was the only option, and Izzura hoped the GrandMatron would take them in. She'd made a promise to her Mother, an important promise, on the Goddess, that she would care for her little sister... made moments before her Mother died of the poison that her Aunt managed to taint a bottle of wine with, a bottle that some servant or slave had either smuggled in or allowed to pass unchecked. Which is why they were unescorted, two Moriel Children making their way through the underdark.. one barely able to function without her mother, the other half grown, by elven standards. For two weeks they had traveled, with the directions her Mother had given her, hiding where she could, sometimes for a day, sometimes for a few hours, she had to go slowly with Cennis.
But finally they were almost there, almost to the GrandMatron's door. A high elven slave met them, and after speaking to Him a moment, passing on her mother's words, they are allowed inside to await an audience with the GrandMatron. Izzura uses that time to clean Cennis up a bit, dipping a bit of cloth into the water pitcher Jason had left them, for that was the slave's name. She was worried, if they were turned away she had no where else to go, no one else she could trust to keep her sister safe, to not sell them to her Mother's enemy. Her mother had not explained *why* her sister was so special, there had been no time, and always before she had been told she would know when she was older.
And now it was too late.
* * *
Time had passed as the years of childhood often do, sometimes too fast, sometimes too slow. Because their presence had to be kept secret, they were taught what they needed to know of the world around them by her GrandMatron's trusted slave, Jason. He was hardly even a slave any longer, but teacher, friend, her GrandMatron's companion and bed mate, so old that the elf's hair was graying, he hardly even remembered the sun, but tantalized Cennis with tales of it, and lands that were green, vibrant, more alive and gentle than what was here below ground. Izzura sometimes was sent out on errands, to a shop or to the temple, Cennis however never left the protective shelter of the GrandMatron's home. The younger girl had grown, though she had matured slowly. She was childlike, innocent, utterly lacking the hard edge that Moriel wore like a sheild. But yet, she played the most beautiful music on the harp Jason had gifted her and taught her how to use. And then there were the fits that had begin when Cennis had reached her 75th year. Violent shaking, rages followed by quiet periods when she would speak or write in elven too ancient for Izzura to understand but a word or two of it. These pages disappeared soon after, into a book her GrandMatron kept. Sometimes Izzura was sent with a scroll containing a copied out portion to the Temple, and then a Priestess would visit, closeted with the GrandMatron and Cennis, but almost always they went away with a sense of excited disappointment clinging to them. The fits came and went on their own, there was no predicting when they would strike.
It was from one of these journeys, to the temple that Izzura was returning from when she heard sounds of fighting emerging from her GrandMatron's doorway. She swore, the Priestess had kept her long, questioning her about her life and her sister's, prying into things that were none of her business, in Izzura's opinion, and it had turned into a heated argument about what did and did not constitute herasy and disobedience to Kirva and ended with Izzura announcing that if Kirva wanted more information She could come Herself. Now she was afraid it had only been a stalling tactic, one perpetrated by her Aunt, who had obviously found them at last. Dagger drawn, she battled into the house, through it, to the hallway outside her GrandMatron's room, where Jason was holding a wounded Cennis, and she watched as a sword cut down her GrandMatron before her eyes. Jason cried out as if struck, tossed Cennis past the person who'd struck down the Matron and pulled the sword from Her dying grasp, turning to battle with those left as he made a shooing motion towards Izzura. The book! But there was no time to wrest it from it's hiding place, which was behind Jason and not towards escape, and so, for now the book was left, until she could find a new safe place for Cennis. Instead she carried her sister, who was wounded, but would live with care, through the hidden passageway and out into the main corridors of the Gloom.
Once more they traveled carefully, cautiously, stopping often so Cennis could rest, and so Izzura could, who had to carry her sister the entire way, since the sword had cut into the muscle of her leg, severing it, and Cennis could not stand on it. Izzura had bandaged it, managed to stop the bleeding, but Cennis was pale, and weak, and since Izzura suspected that the Priestess had betrayed them to her Aunt, she did not dare take Cennis to the Temple, or to any healer to be treated. She could only assume there was a reward offered already for their return. She only knew of one more safe haven, when Jacob had been speaking to Cennis one day of the wonders of the upper world, still one of her favorite stories, her GrandMatron had paused, and mentioned that one of their relatives, an enemy of their enemy had left for the uplander world, and never returned. She'd gone to a place called Nanthalian and so, that was the goal Izzura kept in mind now, the only possible place to take her sister to recover.
Moving through forest, they'd emerged from the gloom into sunlight dappled through trees, but still too bright for them. Cennis burying her face in Izzura's shoulder, trembling, the wound was bleeding again. It was too deep, she needed to find help, and fast if she was to save her sister. And yet, navigating here in the forest was nothing like navigating in the familiar tunnels and caves of the UnderDark. And the sunlight *burned* as it had done in none of Jacob's tales. It was a bit better under the thick canopy of trees, and she tried to find deeper places for them to rest during the day so they could travel in the pleasant darkness of night. Days passed, Izzura hunting for food, some of the berries and fruits making her sick, those that did not, she fed to her sister as well. With each day, she became more desperate, as Cennis passed into muttering, feverish wakefulness.. then when Izzura was carrying her, one of the fits took her, and threw both of them to the ground. The wound gushed open and even as Cennis tossed and raged, and spoke in that odd ancient tongue, her life bled out onto the ground, along with a thick yellow pus, and foul stench.
Rising, trying to wrap the wound once more... Izzura picked up Cennis's still body, carrying her with her as her sister's breath came in shallow gasps, and then stopped completely.Wandering, wandering for days in her grief, but not daring to leave Cennis' body behind, hoping she would be able to have her returned if she found help and a temple. And then, there was a loud crashing through the forest, a large form moving ahead, and a tree fell, smashing her and Cennis to the ground, her sister's body landing half on top of hers, beneath the bulk of the trunk, but Izzura could not get her leg from beneath it, pinned, several bones broken, head bleeding, she faded into darkness.
Two days passed, in a haze of consciousness and unconsciousness, feeling creatures running over her leg, but passing her live flesh by for the dead flesh covering her, easier to get to and not fighting back as she flailed at them when they bit her. The next she woke she was in a bed, still beneath a canopy of leaves and green filtered light, though it came in a window. Her wounds were bandaged, bones reset... and as she moaned, and moved to sit up, a robed catman came into the room.
* * *
She wakes, sitting up in the Grove of Balance, looking over and smiling at the same CatMan, Gaea's Priest and Warrior still sleeping beside her. Her hand reaches up to touch her collar, then she looks up at the trees. She can remember, at last, she can remember what had happened in her life, with the normal clarity of one looking back across their childhood years. The last veil peeled away. And she understands, at last, why her Aunt would go to such lengths to get Cennis back, and the book. And her, as witness to the Prophetess's words, as sister, who may herself hold some value in Kirva's eyes. The Goddess she'd repudated, she no longer followed. And, sitting on the soft grass of the grove, in it's protective circle, with the dark rimmed sun shining through the trees overhead, she gives thanks to Gaea for Her intervention in her life, saving her in the forest, bringing Christolf to find her, to protect her as she found her way. Wiping away the tears of mourning from her dream, the last vestiges of her old life. She would never forget her sister, or her Mother or her GrandMatron or even Jacob; teacher, friend, martyr who had given his life so she could escape the UnderDark when she'd returned for the book. But that life was over, and a new one begun.