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“This is it.” Daisy glanced at her friends, reading their tired faces. They were as they always were–Larkin soft, Steel-Eyes hard, and Sash as indecipherable as ever.
The group was at the outer limits of Lo’Alarai for the third time in their journey. The massive trees rose high around them, the dusty road at their backs. They had marched for two days. The first day, they had walked through the night and well into the next day. They stopped only on the second day from exhaustion and the knowledge that they would need to be rested when they appeared before Norasynia. It was afternoon, the sun high in the sky, not a cloud to be seen for miles. Daisy thought that it was a suspiciously nice day. She had had the impression that anything pleasant was suspicious since they’d visited the shrine in the Badlands. After four days in the horrid desert and the glut of death that they had found there, anything good seemed unreal. She stared up at the clear sky and wondered whether this were simply the heavens softening the blow of what was to come.
And yet, that part of her was not alone. There was another part of her, fiercer than the hopelessness, that refused to be quieted. She suspected when this part of her spoke up that Idunna was speaking through her, that she did not herself possess the undying urge to carry on, but she had to admit that she felt most herself when she refused to give in to despair. She had reflected on her past and the moments of feeling lost–when she was kicked out of the gang in Strey, for instance, or when she was in her cell in Despair–and found that she had essentially nothing in common with that person. That’s who Asp was to her now–that person, someone else who had made choices she could barely stand to contemplate, someone who had had only survival to live for. She knew with certainty she was no longer Asp. Asp would look at this situation and see no profit in continuing. Asp would see that the Ronan’el’s situation was desperate at best and choose not to infuriate the matriarch of the elves further. Asp would give up and run to somewhere new, if there was somewhere new to run to, anyway. But Daisy would not. She could not. The mask was gone. Asp was gone. Only Daisy remained, and Daisy was more stubborn than she had known she could be.
That stubbornness was focused on Norasynia. When she and her friends talked about strategy on the walk to Lo’Alarai, Daisy insisted that Norasynia could be reasoned with. Not manipulated or controlled, but reasoned with. Norasynia was not a mark. She was a wayward soul who could be brought to seeing things the right way, the way that would spare lives and forget domination and subjugation of the Ronan’el. And Daisy believed that was possible. When she and her friends were silent on their journey, she was thinking of the right words to argue her point. Not what tactic might shift Norasynia, but what way the truth could be displayed to show her why she must end the war. Had it still been Asp, the notion of truth would have felt inflexible and inconvenient. But it was Daisy, and Daisy cared about the truth.
Her friends did not respond to her statement. They simply passed into the city and made their way down the familiar path to the palace. On previous visits, temples and taverns and markets and festivals had been a part of the journey. But not this time. Now, there was only Norasynia. They arrived at the grand doors to the massive tree at the center of the city inside which the palace lay, and they stood before the guards with purpose and resolve. The guards seemed wary of them, but they asked what they were ordered to.
“What is your business in the palace?” One of the guards, a thin elven man with a long red braid spoke first.
“We are here to speak with Lady Norasynia,” said Sash.
“She is occupied,” replied the guard.
“This is important,” asserted Daisy. “And we’ve spoken to her before about this meeting.”
“She is with royalty,” returned the guard. “That is more important than whatever you may have for Lady Norasynia.”
“We’re here on official business from the Ronan’el about the war,” continued Daisy. “We’ve already spoken to every royal across Afira. They will appreciate that you’re allowing us an audience.”
The guard looked to his counterpart before the door, who shrugged. He turned back. “I’m afraid you don’t know the gravity of this meeting. Lady Leonarra has come with a visitor of great importance, and–”
“We know Lady Haellica,” interrupted Daisy. “She made my earrings and Larkin’s horn decorations as a token of appreciation for our help in Lo’Thalas. You must understand that we need to speak to Lady Norasynia now.”
The guard swallowed hard and nodded. “End of the hallway. Please wait until the Ladies are done speaking before you enter Lady Norasynia’s chamber.” He pushed open the door and allowed them inside.
They hurried down the hallway to the throne room. Inside, Norasynia sat on her throne, Farboriel beside her, Leonarra and Haellica before her. The group walked into the throne room, the treaty already in Daisy’s hand.
“ . . . and you must understand that the Ana’Hiel are not who they seem to be,” said Leonarra. “They are elves born of the In-Between like any of us, but they never left in spirit. We come to this life with a trace of the In-Between within us, but they are entirely of that place. They have used their position here in the city to control us. To control you, Norasynia. They do not mean to help us.”
“And how do you know this?” asked Norasynia. “Have they admitted this to you?”
“We had visitors,” answered Leonarra. “They went to the In-Between. Haellica and I spoke to them when they returned. The elf among them, Sasharaan, observed the Ana’Hiel closely and reported to us when they came back. The Ana'Hiel are not advisors to us for our benefit. They advise us for the benefit of the In-Between, of the Summer City and the Summer Queen. I don’t believe you relish the idea of being controlled by her.”
“The same Sasharaan standing behind you?” asked Farboriel, smirking.
Leonarra and Haellica turned to see the adventurers join them before Norasynia. Leonarra offered a kind nod, and Haellica smiled gently at them.
“The very same,” said Leonarra, turning back to Norsynia and Farboriel. “They know enough of the Ana’Hiel here and there to make what we know look like nothing. And they testified to me that the Ana’Hiel are tools of the In-Between.”
Sash nodded to confirm this.
Sash was observing them that whole time? That elf is full of surprises. I really had no idea.
“I do not know if I can trust that this renegade’s report can be valued,” said Norasynia. “They have consorted with the Ronan’el, after all.”
“About that,” cut in Daisy, brandishing the treaty. “We have all the Ronan’el signatures to end the war. We also have those of every elven leader but you. And when we began this mission, we spoke. You assured us that you would sign if every other elven leader did first. And now we have those. It’s time for you to sign.”
Norasynia scowled. “This has been arranged. It smacks of conspiracy. Leonarra appears in my court with the long-forgotten sundered elf queen, telling me that the sundered elves have lived in the protection of Lo’Thalas for centuries, that Haellica is in union with her, and that the Ana’Hiel are secretly against us, and you all arrive at the same time? You mean to bring me down, and it will not work.”
“It’s not like that,” said Larkin. “We just happened to get here at the same time they were talking to you. No one’s out to get you, I promise.”
Norasynia turned to Farboriel. “You signed this treaty?”
Farboriel grew tense. “Arokosiel was imprisoned. I did not believe my signature would mean anything.”
“But you signed,” retorted Daisy. “Your signature means something. If you meant to stop the treaty from taking effect, you could have chosen to not sign. Instead, you lent us your support. You cannot take that back, and Lady Norasynia, you also cannot take back your promise to sign now that everyone else has.”
Norasynia narrowed her eyes at Daisy. “This promise is not in writing.”
“We have witnesses,” replied Daisy. “Myself, Larkin, Sash, and Steel-Eyes all heard you make that promise before Melleon disappeared.”
Norasynia nearly flinched, but she contained herself. “Nevertheless, it’s the word of three nobodies against mine. A dwarf? A slightkin who’s masquerading as a healer? Or who was masquerading as not a healer before? And a hornkin?”
“I became a healer after we met,” argued Daisy. “And those three ‘nobodies’ are heroes in multiple elven cities. Not to mention Sash. Sash is a servant of Godtide Sasharaan. They are an elevated elf. They serve this land to improve it for your gods. They are not nobody. They have served with honor across your lands. And they too want you to sign this treaty.”
Sash nodded. “Lady Norasynia, our people deserve peace. You have fought for ten years and earned nothing but the burial of countless elves. We have fought for just as long to end the bloodshed. We must complete this treaty. We must stop this war.”
Norasynia seemed to be mulling it over, though her face was still sour. Haellica spoke softly. “Was it the Ana’Hiel who told you this war was worth fighting?”
Norasynia narrowed her eyes and nodded.
“So we’re telling you that the Ana’Hiel do not have your best intentions, that they mean to control you, and the promises made by all of us who lead the elven people dictate that we end this war.” Haellica’s face was almost pleading, but shone in defiance.
Norasynia breathed in and out deeply and began to shake her head. But Daisy spoke first.
“Lady Norasynia, you have two choices before you. Allow the Ana’Hiel to make decisions for you, sacrificing more of your people to an endless war, or sign, freeing your land from violence and becoming the ruler who liberated your people from the hand of another realm and the bloodshed it has brought. Please, sign the treaty.”
Norasynia sighed. She turned to Farboriel. “Bring me the Ana’Hiel. Take as many of your troops as you must. I need to have them here. Go. Now.”
Farboriel looked dumbfounded, but he sensed the urgency in Norasynia’s voice. He flitted his wings and shot out of the throne room.
“I will sign,” said Norasynia. “Bring me the treaty.”
Is this really happening? After all this time? Daisy went to her and delicately handed her the treaty. It was in remarkably good condition considering what it had been through–only a few creases, no smeared ink, no tears. Daisy had cared for it with every ounce of protection she could offer through cities, battles, and dimensions. Norasynia took Daisy’s inkpen and signed the treaty, handing it back carefully.
Norasynia grimaced. “The Ana’Hiel told me that the Ronan’el were different, lesser, foul creatures. They have preached the downfall of the Ronan’el for thousands of years. But I see it now. Our hatred of them is as hollow as the tree we stand in now. I–” She inhaled deeply. “I am sorry for the grief this has caused the Ronan’el. I am sorry for the grief this has caused you in your journey. The Ana’Hiel have told me that their wishes come directly from Faerian himself, and I blame him for not sparing us the way that I am told Ronaan spared his people and our desert elves at the frontlines. I do not know if there is much to be done to fix this, but I can try to make up for my transgressions. Sasharaan, step before me.”
Sash uncertainly walked forward and stood before Norasynia on her throne. “You are hereby elevated to Paladin-General, our highest order of holy protector. I pledge my support to help you regrow and protect the reef and the archipelago. You will also be the formal Protector of the River Elves. Arokosiel has been reinstated, and in your role, you will be his second in command. Please do well with the role as you have with your task these last years.”
Sash bowed deeply, the faintest of smiles on their face. “I thank you, Lady Norasynia.”
Norasynia licked her lips. “You companion Kastark Fayedd, who I understand was instrumental in serving as an emissary in this mission, is granted citizenship as an elf. He is welcome in any elven province, as he is as much an elf as a Ronan’el. Should he wish to own property or travel throughout our lands, he is free to do so.”
“He’s working hard to recover the Ronan’el, but we’ll let him know,” said Larkin.
Norasynia beckoned to an attendant and whispered to her. The attendant scurried off and quickly returned with three packages. Norasynia held out a small box. “And you, Larkin–it is only a token, but I bestow upon you these earrings. They were worn by Sariel herself. They are a conduit to the gods, and should you wish to carry on a more peaceful and decent legacy than we have been guided to, I believe you will be able to use them to contact deities in search of help. Please use them well.”
Larkin’s eyes went wide as she took the box and inspected the ornate silver earrings inside. “Really? That’s so cool! Thank you!”
Norasynia nodded. “Steel-Eyes. I understand that you are an inventor of renown. I have a design for you.” She held out a rolled-up scroll. “This blueprint has been guarded for ages. It has never been built. It is more technical than I entirely understand myself, but I do know that it is an astrolabe and compass which can guide you to points where the planes intersect. Should you wish to travel between planes, it will help you to find the doorways to those places.”
Steel-Eyes smiled. “Thank you,” he said simply, accepting the blueprint happily. He began poring over it, his eyes wide behind his goggles.
“And you, Lady Jasmine,” began Norasynia.
Daisy laughed nervoulsy. “Um–actually, I go by Daisy now.”
Norasynia smiled politely, but Daisy could tell that the Queen of the Forest Elves still did not quite like her. “Daisy then,” she said, “I noticed your robes. You serve Idunna, the northern human god, yes?”
Daisy smiled proudly. “I do.”
“Duke Robert I of the Northreach gifted this to me long ago. When we solidified our friendship, he gave this to me as a symbol of friendship and peace. It is an antler which he told me was blessed by Idunna directly. I don’t know what it might mean to you–admittedly, to me, it means more as a symbol of my memory of Robert than as a holy object. But you may find more meaning in it than that.”
The attendant stepped forward and gave Daisy a bundle wrapped loosely in white silk. She unwrapped it and found a long white branching antler, live cherry blossoms sprouting from it. The scent filled her instantly with comfort, and her eyes watered as she gazed at it. It was beautiful. She knew on some level that she too, like Norasynia, would have found this to be nothing more than a strange object not that long ago, but now, it was something that made her wholly content and inspired her.
“Thank you, Lady Norasynia,” she gushed. “This gift means the world to me.”
“I’m glad,” Norasynia said, and she seemed to mean it. She turned to the attendant. “Bring me a courier. We need to send word to the warfront to recall all troops immediately.”
The attendant rushed from the room just as Farboriel returned. Behind him were a few dozen winged elves and between them, four chained elves in the uniforms of the Ana’Hiel.
“You are dismissed,” said Norasynia. “I have business to attend to. Leonarra, Haellica, thank you for coming to me.”
“Happy to help,” said Leonarra. Haellica nodded.
The adventurers along with Leonarra and Haellica left the throne room and passed down the hallway. They paused on the front steps of the palace.
“Thank you for your help,” said Daisy. “Without the Ana’Hiel argument, we might not have gotten that signature.”
Haellica smiled. “And without Sash there to corroborate what we said, we may have made little ground with her.”
“You’ve done something that you will be remembered for,” said Leonarra. “I’m sure it hasn’t set in yet, but you’ve just brought an end to the greatest hatred across any land. We can only hope that what grows in the ash is nurtured.”
“I will ensure that Lo’Torrin does not forget,” said Sash. “When I’m able to return, I mean.”
Daisy nodded. “We need to go back to the Ronan’el first. But I think all of us have big plans for building on what we just did.”
“We have a long journey back to Lo’Thalas,” said Leonarra. “Please come and visit us again sometime.”
“The kids at the orphanage miss you two,” added Haellica.
Daisy smiled. Larkin let loose a long “Awwwwwwwww,” before adding, “I miss them too.”
“I’ll be back some day,” said Daisy. “I promise.”
Leonarra raised a hand to wave goodbye. “Safe travels.”
“Safe travels,” replied Sash. The elven queens walked off into the city.
“You all wanna get dinner or something?” asked Larkin.
Daisy chuckled. “That would be nice.”
“I’m famished. Let’s do it,” said Sash.
“Steel-Eyes will come.”
They set off for a small restaurant at the corner of town that Larkin had seen the last time they’d been here and wanted to try. The food was decent, but to them, it was delicious. Everything was more vibrant and colorful. The ale seemed stronger, the music in the restaurant more melodious, the conversation warmer. It was like a veil had lifted. They talked about nothing of importance–no pressure to think about their task, no burden of getting to know complete strangers, no strain from the knowledge that it was only the calm before the storm. They told stories and cracked jokes and laughed together–even Steel-Eyes. And in the morning, Daisy found she couldn’t remember a single thing that had been said. All she remembered was having a good time with her friends without the weight of the world pressing down on them. They departed for the Table in midmorning after sleeping in and getting a leisurely breakfast, and the journey back to the Ronan’el felt like coming home.
—
The Ronan’el camp was chaos. Daisy had never seen such a party in her life. The bashes that the gang back in Strey had were nothing compared to this. The Ronan’el were not wildly drunk from alcohol; they were alive as few had ever felt. As they entered the camp, Ronan’el they had never spoken to ran up with joy on their faces and called them heroes unlike those in the stories of old. Some raved about the relief of peace, the fact that more than ten years of war had ended evident on their faces. The Ronan’el no longer seemed tired, beleaguered. They were delighted. It was a celebration not of accomplishment, but of hope. Other Ronan’el spoke of the future. Some said that they would return to their clan lands and live quiet lives, and others spoke excitedly about desperate hopes hatched during the war that were now possible. Many Ronan’el cried when they saw the adventurers. The journey from the camp’s edge to the Table had previously taken a matter of minutes, but it was over an hour before they were able to pass from the outskirts to the clan leaders–so many Ronan’el stopped them on the way to gush about the fact that peace had finally come that they would not be exterminated by the elves after all, that this camp would soon be abandoned until some other pressing occasion called for their presence there, that Daisy and the others could only make it a few feet at a time without being stopped by another group of Ronan’el who wished to heap praise on them. Daisy imagined that the sight of it all from a distance would be comical, a swarm of Ronan’el surrounding four unlikely heroes inching through the camp. When they finally arrived at the Table, they were high-strung from the infectious bliss that had accompanied them through the camp.
At the Table sat the five Ronan’el clan leaders. Bruzohr beamed at them, his green scales glinting in the midday sun, and his eyes creased with the force of his smile. Beside him, Shez slowly nodded, her brown and white face calm and dignified and yet somehow eager. Next to her was Abzal, who seemed to be striving to appear detached from the occasion, but he kept absent-mindedly smiling and then reverting to a neutral expression, and a small collection of similarly blue-and-purple Ronan’el stood happily behind him. At Bruzohr’s other side sat Urdukk, who pounded the table with his red fist in excitement, his eyes completely alight. Beside him, Rhuk chuckled in joy, and her pointed teeth shone from between her black lips. Next to her, Sithrin’s empty seat was barely noticeable, though Daisy did take note, managing to not let the memory of the silver Ronan’el's betrayal dampen her spirits too much.
“Quiet down!” called Bruzohr, his voice jovial. The crowd fell almost silent, but some chattering still sounded throughout the gathered crowd. Bruzohr looked each of the adventurers in the face. “We have very little to give,” he said quietly. “Nearly all we had was poured into surviving the war. I cannot pay you in coin, and we have no precious things to bestow on you. For this, we are all sorry.”
“You deserve more than we have,” added Rhuk. “You turned something we thought was an impossible dream into a blessing we cannot repay.”
“What we can give is honor,” said Shez. “Or more appropriately, we can recognize the honor you have acted with.”
Bruzohr nodded. “You are all named Ronan’akh. It means ‘kin of the Ronan’el.’ You are champions of our kind, and we recognize you as one of us in spirit. We are indebted to you, and it is the very least we can do.”
Abzal held out four thick clay tokens, a crest resembling the holy symbol of Ronaan imprinted on it. “Take these. If you are in need, we will come to help you as you helped us in our time of need. Wherever you are, we will know it is broken, and we will come as swiftly as we can to assist you.”
Sash stepped forward and took the tokens, bowing, and handed them out to the group. “We are grateful,” they said.
“This is very gracious of you,” added Daisy. “The elves gave us gifts, but your recognition means a great deal more. We are honored by this.”
A cloaked figure came through the crowd and sat in the empty seat where Sithrin had sat. They removed their hood.
“Kast!” cried Larkin.
Kast smiled. “Hey. Good to see you all again.”
“Kast,” chuckled Daisy. “You’re at the Table.”
“Kastark has joined us as the head of a new clan,” explained Bruzohr. “His clan is the ro’Fenhikk. It is for orphans and foundlings, a group that has swelled in number since the beginning of the war. His contribution to your mission has proved him trustworthy and valuable to Ronan’elkind. We could think of no one better for the task.”
Kast nodded. “We’ve been shown a subcontinent island to the northeast. It seems to be unsettled. An expeditionary force and I will be exploring it. If it truly is empty, we will stay there, and the rest of the Ronan’el will join us for a new beginning. You are certainly welcome to come and visit once we’ve established a foothold there.”
“We wish you luck on your journey,” said Sash.
“Yeah, that sounds great!” cried Larkin. “I can’t wait to come see!”
“Your names will be entered in our histories,” said Bruzohr. “Stories will be told about you. Ronan’el for generations will know of your deeds and the great service you have done for us.”
Shez smiled. “I suspect that Ronan’el for a long time will give their children your names. There will be younglings called Sash, Larkin, Daisy, and Steel-Eyes. This is the tribute you have earned.”
Daisy stifled a laugh. A little red Ronan’el named Daisy? A baby green Ronan’el named Steel-Eyes? That’s sweet. She suddenly remembered that Mrs. Button back in Lo’Torrin had promised to name her next child Delia for the rescue of her daughter, Olivia. Oh gods, there’s going to be entirely too many kids named after me.
“You are free to spend as much time here as you like,” said Bruzohr. “You will walk among us as one of us.”
“Thank you,” said Daisy. “I struggle to express what this all means to me. To us. We did not know ten years ago what this mission would entail, and certainly none of us expected it to go this way. We are grateful for your patience, your support, and your appreciation.”
Bruzohr nodded, smiling. “Please, enjoy the celebration. It is for you and thanks to you. If you need anything, please ask.”
A cry went up from the gathered Ronan’el. The festivities that the adventurers had experienced on the way to the Table were nothing compared to what followed. Ronan’el of every age and color danced and chanted, ate and drank, prayed and exalted. Daisy was swept away from her friends in the torrent of celebration, and she was whisked into a dance circle. She was surrounded by Ronan’el moving in gyrating and spinning motions, some slapping their legs and chests in time with the chants, others screaming out words that seemed to be jubilation in their mother tongue. A young white-and-brown Ronan’el grabbed Daisy’s hands and did a jig with her, and Daisy was caught up in the delight of simply being in the energy of the celebration. Ronan’el reached down and gently touched her head, a gesture she later would learn had a complex meaning that involved the Ronan’el believing that touching her head was a blessing to both parties involved. She was handed food and drink of all sorts, all of which was delicious and exotic to her slightkin palate. Again and again, Ronan’el would get her attention and tell her of the mark that the war had left on their life and their hopes for the future. And again and again, Daisy was reduced to tears. Her mission had seemed for so long to be an abstract good–ending the war meant saving lives, and that could not be denied as a good thing. But as the volume of the stories the Ronan’el told grew and grew, she began to get a sense of the actual weight of her deeds.
One Ronan’el, an elderly blue woman with a scar across her right eye, explained that both of her sons had perished in the opening salvos of the war, and that she had feared her last son would meet the same fate. He had been assigned to the frontlines a few days ago, and she felt in her bones that he would be killed in battle, and she would be left to raise his own children in his absence. But the end of the war meant that he had survived, and his children would not be orphans. She could be a doting grandmother and not a harried replacement for their father. She thanked Daisy for allowing her to keep the last shred of family she had alive and allowing her the peace that she would not be alone in the world without her own children.
Another Ronan’el, a slim black teenage boy, wept as he told her that he hadn’t slept in weeks for fear of being killed. He aspired to be a musician and had been without his instrument for years due to the destruction of the camp he had served in. He told her that he had essentially only a few memories from before the war began, and he had been fated to be a soldier from his earliest recollections. He said that in the days since the war had ended, he had been free to make a new lute from collected materials and insisted on playing her a song he had written about the peace treaty. He played it joyously, and she cried at his expressive playing–it was evocative, sweet, melancholy, and rich. He said he had a future after spending more than half of his life suspecting he had none.
And yet another Ronan’el, a middle-aged red woman, told her that she had nearly died in combat too many times to count. She said that she’d lost her spirituality with her hope, and that she’d regarded life as a cruel joke she didn’t care to laugh along with. Her mother had been a priestess of Ronaan, and his imprisonment in the In-Between had meant that her mother’s life was a frustrated combination of hoping and being disappointed. But Daisy’s freeing Ronaan and ending the war meant that she could now turn to her mother’s god for peace after the trauma of endless fighting. She told Daisy that she had been but a lifeless husk shambling through every day, but that she now felt hope that she could recover. Daisy nodded, understanding in her own way what the woman meant, and blessed her in Idunna’s name.
And Tyan came too as the crowd began to celebrate on their own and leave Daisy to her own devices once the sun had set. Tyan approached her quietly and tapped her on the shoulder.
“Daisy,” she said. “You saved my girl’s life and mine twice now. I cannot ever repay you.”
Daisy smiled at Tyan. Why hide it? I can tell her. “You needn’t. You saved me once.”
Tyan raised an eyebrow. “No I didn’t. What do you mean?”
Daisy chuckled. “Do you remember a newtkin named Gilbert? Back in Despair?”
Tyan narrowed her eyes. “How would you know about that? What are you talking about?”
Daisy looked sadly back at Tyan. “I’m not proud of this, but you knew me then,” she said in Gilbert’s voice.
Tyan flinched. “Gilbert? What do you mean?”
Daisy nodded. “I used to be a con artist. Gilbert was a disguise. Right next to Edmund. I locked myself up because I felt like I needed to right the balance. It was foolish. Prison time isn’t penitence. Doing the right thing is. And I see you’ve learned that too.”
Tyan’s mouth hung open for a moment, and then she began to laugh. “Gilbert, you stupid son of a bitch! You really were there. Holy shit. You know, you are more of a mystery now than you were then, and that’s saying something.”
“Tyan, you got me through a lot of hard days,” said Daisy solemnly. “Having someone sane I could talk to, someone to joke with, someone who also felt like crime was just a way you had to be. I needed you. And I appreciate how you helped me, even if you didn’t know it at the time. I wanted to thank you before, but I didn’t know how to say it. So thank you.”
Tyan chuckled. “You helped me too. So don’t sweat it.” She laughed harder. “If you had told me then the weird little self-punishing newtkin across the jail was gonna be the one to save my life and end this war, I woulda slapped you. But I’ll be damned. You really made something of yourself, didn’t you?”
Daisy laughed too. “I’m proud of how I’ve changed. And I’m proud of you too. You seemed kinda hopeless back then. I guess I did too. But you cleaned up, right? Had a kid. She seems like a good one.”
Tyan beamed. “Nytra’s my reminder to stay on the good side of the law. I can’t raise her from behind bars. I was a cook before the war. Got pressed into mess duties when the war started. I’ve been making these miserable camp meals for years now. I’m looking forward to making something actually good once life gets back to normal.”
“Good for you. Really. I’m happy for you.”
Tyan smiled. “I’m happy for you too. You were a pretty bleak one back in the day. Kinda figured you’d spend your whole life in that cell. And look at you now. You seem happy.”
Daisy stiffened. Huh. I guess I am happy. Shit. I’m actually happy. She chuckled. “Thanks, Tyan. Good to see you. Good luck with whatever comes next.” She pulled a few crowns from her coinpuse and held them out to Tyan. “This is for Nytra. Get her something nice. Something you wouldn’t normally think about.”
Tyan’s eyes widened. “Hot damn. Thanks, Daisy.” She took the coins and pocketed them.
Daisy smiled. “I’m gonna go sit down for a while, pray a bit. I’m a little tuckered out after all the excitement. I’ll see you round.”
“Good luck, Daisy,” replied Tyan. “Good night.”
Daisy headed to the edge of the camp and found a quiet spot to pray. She spoke to Idunna at length as she had become accustomed to, this time asking for blessings for those Ronan’el she had spoken to, asking for something special for each person whose story she had heard. After nearly an hour, she closed her prayer with the normal “I love you” and sat, staring up at the stars.
Why’d I feel the need to tell Tyan who I was? she thought. I avoided it before. And I just kinda said it. Why? She searched her feelings for a time, turning over the many positive outpourings she’d been given since she returned to camp. It felt good to be considered one of the Ronan’el. It was nice to have the token and the knowledge that she could get help in a time of need. It was wonderful to have heard the countless stories of how she had helped people with her contribution to the treaty. But for some reason, her mind kept going to Tyan. Tyan had not been effusively grateful like the others. She had not lavished praise or gifts or tokens of appreciation like the others. She had seemed more surprised than thankful. But something about talking to Tyan had felt better than the rest.
Daisy gazed at the stars, mentally tracing lines between constellations, looking up at the glowing moon overhead. A shooting star raced across the sky. And it suddenly occurred to her that Tyan knew Daisy at her lowest moment and her highest. Tyan had seen Daisy across a span of months and months, miserable and self-hating and hopeless, and she had also seen her triumphant and proud and stubbornly hopeful. To the tribunal, Daisy had gone from diplomatic and resourceful to helpful and successful. To the common Ronan’el, she was a name and a deed without any details or personality–just the person who had done something big. But to Tyan, the whole expanse of what she had accomplished was clear. She’d been a desperate criminal in over her head, and she’d grown into a confident healer whose work had been selfless and wide-reaching. Tyan knew better than Bruzohr or even her friends how much Daisy had had to overcome to be where she was. And that meant more than any honorific or blessed antler or effusive thank you.
She gazed at the stars a while longer and then made her way to the small patch of camp where she and her friends had stayed before. Sash was there, meditating, and Steel-Eyes was tinkering with Guy, Bird on his shoulder. Larkin’s telltale laughter sounded from a nearby campfire, telling Daisy that the hornkin planned to party a while longer. Daisy unfurled her bedroll and curled up, and she fell asleep thinking about the distance between who she was before and who she was now. In her dreams, she had still been Asp, but tonight,as she slumbered in the Ronan’el camp, she dreamed of being Daisy.
—
Morning came. Daisy was the last to rise. Larkin and Sash were eating breakfast, and Steel-Eyes was tinkering on Bird. Daisy stretched and joined Larkin and Sash by the fire.
“So what’s the plan?” she asked.
“I am going to set out for Lo’Torrin,” said Sash. “I need to tend to the archipelago. And I should not neglect my duties as Protector of the River Elves for long. Lord Arokosiel will need help getting set back up as ruler of the city.”
“Oh,” said Daisy. “So, you’re going soon. I mean, you’re right. That is important work. I guess I just–nevermind.”
“What is it?” asked Larkin.
Daisy shrugged. “I guess I just didn’t expect to go back to Lo’Torrin myself. I don’t know if I want to go back to the elven lands after all this. It kinda left a bad taste in my mouth.”
“The mission is over,” said Steel-Eyes.
Daisy nodded. “You’re totally right. What I meant was, it’s been a while that we’ve all been together. I feel bad splitting up from everybody. I mean, I don’t know where I want to go. Just not back there, I guess.”
“I’m not going back to Lo’Torrin either,” said Larkin. “I want to go check on my mom. She’s been sick in Old Myriad for a long time. Not even awake. At least, last time I heard about her.”
“Steel-Eyes will go to Lo’Torrin,” said the dwarf. “Will help rebuild with Sash.”
“Oh, cool,” said Daisy. “I’m glad you two will still be working together.”
“What are you gonna do, Daisy?” asked Larkin.
Daisy thought about it quietly. She looked at Larkin, whose face was a mixture of hopeful and vulnerable. Daisy smiled. “Mind if I come with you to Old Myriad? If your mom’s sick, maybe we can work on healing her.”
Larkin grinned like she had hoped to hear this. “That would be great!”
“Awesome,” said Daisy. “I think Old Myriad should be safe for me. Different government from Despair, anyway.”
Larkin raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
Daisy chuckled. “Old me made some bad choices. I may or may not have been wanted in Despair.” She smiled. “And Strey, and Thistlewade.”
Larkin and Sash laughed.
“A criminal in half the world, a hero in the other,” said Larkin.
Daisy chuckled. “I was honestly thinking about asking Norasynia to get me pardoned everywhere else as repayment for the treaty, but I didn’t think acknowledging I was wanted on three continents moments after getting her to sign was wise. Besides, that’s not how right and wrong works.”
“One more breakfast as a team?” asked Larkin. “And then we say goodbye?”
“One more breakfast,” said Sash.
Steel-Eyes grunted.
“Perfect,” said Daisy. “Let’s make it a good one.”
“What do you plan to do now?” asked Sash. The question was not aimed at anyone in particular.
“Inventions,” said Steel-Eyes. “Wherever Steel-Eyes goes, make more inventions.”
Daisy smiled. No surprise there. “Very nice. I’m sure you’ll do great. What about you, Sash?”
Sash smiled faintly. “I want to build a school. I think that the river elf lands should have more protectors. With a good school, we could have people trained to protect the archipelago, the rivers, the inlets, the lakes. It would be good for everyone. And I want to work with Lord Arokosiel to make Lo’Torrin more accepting. I think that the journey really showed me how harsh this place can be. I want Lo’Torrin to be better.”
“That’s great!” chirped Larkin. “I’m excited for you.”
“Thanks. What are your plans, Larkin?” asked Sash.
Larkin smiled. “Once I help Mom out, I want to do something for hornkin. So many people stared at me like I was a freak during the mission. I want somewhere where hornkin can be just like anybody else. I think a place where we can just live in peace would be good.”
Daisy grinned. “That sounds lovely. I can’t wait to see that.”
Larkin beamed. “Thanks! How about you?”
Daisy cocked her head to the side, thinking. After a moment, she shrugged. “I dunno. I know I want to help people. I want to work as a healer. I want to get stronger with Idunna. But I can do all that anywhere. I guess I’ll just go where life takes me.”
Sash smiled. “You were the biggest planner of all of us when we started out. Now you’re just going with the flow?”
Daisy laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. I mean, before, I was trying to make money, be safe, be comfortable. But while doing jobs. And that takes planning. But now, I can do all those things anywhere. Being a healer means I’ll always have work, and I can always be safe. Why not just go with the flow?”
Larkin clapped her hands happily. “Yay! That’s great, Daisy. And thanks for agreeing to come with me.”
Daisy smiled. “Of course. I mean, you’re my friend. I wanna help you.”
Larkin grinned. “Yay friends!”
They continued their breakfast, sharing hopes and aspirations and talking only of the future. There was no reminiscing. They had lived their journey, and all of it was still fresh. But the future had never been a topic of discussion before. The present had been too pressing. So they chatted idly about what was before them, shared hugs after breakfast, and split up.
For several days, Daisy traveled with Larkin. They made their way to the coast to board a ship bound for the Myriad. The journey to the ship was marked by jokes, silly stories, and discussions about the finer points of helping people. Larkin had insights about healing that Daisy did not due to Larkin’s longer experience with the practice, but Daisy also had her own expertise as someone whose entire magical career was focused around healing. Along the way, when they encountered people in need, they worked together to help them, even establishing an informal game to see who could be more helpful to strangers. The small ports they visited could not send them to the Myriad, and so they eventually did meander back to Lo’Torrin’s large international port.
On one day, Daisy and Larkin “competed” to see who could heal the most sick in a small town near the border between the elven and Ronan’el parts of Afira. At first, Daisy seemed to have the advantage, as people were wary of being healed by a teenage hornkin. But once people were around the two of them, Larkin’s infectious joy and obvious healing ability attracted more people to her. In the end, they finished the day with an exact tie. On another day, Daisy used the knowledge that liking the personality of a healer influenced people’s decisions, and tried to be as friendly as possible, and she finished a day in an elven town on the way to river country slightly ahead of Larkin, which Larkin seemed more excited about than winning. And on their next day in a town, a small settlement just outside Lo’Torrin, Daisy decided to use the cherry blossom-wrapped antler to augment her healing, and people noticed that her help was more dramatically effective than Larkin’s, and Daisy learned that she had more capacity to conserve her reserves of magical energy. The day ended with Daisy well ahead of Larkin, and Larkin congratulated her on becoming a true expert of the craft. Daisy was proud, but she was more excited that she and Larkin had managed to heal dozens and dozens of people on their trek across the countryside than she was to have won.
Eventually, they arrived in Lo’Torrin, but by then, Sash and Steel-Eyes were so busy with their plans that Daisy and Larkin simply hopped on board the first vessel westward and set sail.
—
“So when was the last time you saw your mom?” asked Daisy. They were seated at a table in the belowdeck of the ship, eating lunch. It was the second day of their journey, and they had already earned a reputation as a helpful if very playful pair aboard the ship.
“Almost a year ago,” replied Larkin. “I mean, almost eleven years ago. Ugh, I’m still not used to thinking it’s been so long.”
“I know!” cried Daisy. “Me too. Like, I keep thinking that I was with my old gang in Strey about a year or so ago, but it’s been so long to everybody else. It’s gonna be a while before I remember that it’s been a decade.”
Larkin nodded. “When I saw her last, she was unconscious. She was . . . hurt. She was in and out for a couple months. She couldn’t remember anything. She couldn’t remember me. And then she just slipped under. Nothing could wake her up.”
Daisy frowned. “I’m sorry, Larkin. That’s so rough. We’ll fix her. It’ll be okay.”
Larkin sighed. “I hope so. She’s a good mom. She taught me to be good. My dad didn’t like that.” She looked distant for a moment, then shook her head. “I just want her to be okay. I hope she remembers me eventually.”
Daisy nodded. “I’m glad you had a good mom. Not everybody does.”
Larkin frowned sympathetically. “Was your mom not a good mom?”
Daisy sighed. “Not really, no. She was a liar. I guess I learned to lie from her. She’d say something, and you’d know it wasn’t true, but if you called her out on it, she’d just yell at you. But if I lied, she acted like it was the end of the world. She was a total hypocrite. And so I spent a lot of time running from her, and she hated me for it. But what was I supposed to do? Spend all my time getting yelled at and treated like dirt?” She frowned. “I guess I probably ended up a criminal because of her. She wouldn’t feed me enough, so I had to beg and steal if I wanted to eat. She taught me to lie. She wouldn’t give me anything I needed, so I had to get it myself. And then she punished me for doing it.”
Larkin scowled. “She sounds awful. And you said before that she turned you in?”
Daisy nodded. “Yeah. I had gotten a comfortable life, and she turned me in, so I ran off to Strey. And I got a comfortable life there too, and she showed up one day looking for me, and when things got complicated with my gang and I had to run again, I ended up on the same damn boat with her to Despair. She spent the whole time telling me–and I was in disguise, so she didn’t know it was me–how awful I was, and she wanted me to turn myself in. And after days of that, something in me just broke. When I got to Despair, I went to the prison and turned myself in.”
Larkin’s eyes widened. “You did?”
Daisy looked down. “Yeah. Looking back, it didn’t make a lot of sense. I had done some things I regretted, and I had lost everyone I cared about, and she got to me. So eventually, I got out of the prison, and who do I run right into?”
Larkin shook her head. “No! Not her?”
“Her,” said Daisy. “I was in a different disguise, Penelope. But she recognized me right away. So I ran. Honestly, I half-expected to see her in Afira, just walking around asking people if they had seen me. But given that we were in the In-Between for ten years, she must have moved on or given up or something.”
“You think you’ll ever make up with her?” asked Larkin.
Daisy chuckled. “Nope. Unless she’s changed pretty radically, I don’t see how it’s possible.”
Larkin raised an eyebrow. “You’ve changed a lot.”
Daisy shrugged. “I guess so. I dunno. If she ever finds me again, maybe I’ll give her a chance. Or maybe I’ll just throw her down a well.” She stuck her tongue out at Larkin.
Larkin assumed a mock offended look. “How dare you, Daisy? Why, I never!”
“I guess I’m still a heartless criminal,” replied Daisy in mock bitterness. “My heart is as black as the night sky.”
“And smaller than an acorn,” added Larkin, laughing.
Daisy smiled. “It just looks that way to you since your heart is the size of this ship.”
Larkin smiled. “Awwwww, you’re a sweetheart after all.”
They laughed together for a moment, and then Daisy looked seriously at Larkin. “You know, Larkin, all jokes aside, you are my best friend, and I appreciate you.”
Larkin’s eyes widened. “Daisy! That’s so sweet! You’re my best friend too.”
Daisy smiled. “Bet that’s a surprise, looking back. I doubt I was your idea of a good friend when we first met.”
Larkin chuckled. “You were a little rough around the edges, but you had a good heart. I mean, you conned that lady at the smithy, but when we talked to you about it, you did put up the flyers. And you helped Dumas that night you were on watch. Even before you went all healer on us, you weren’t bad.”
Daisy raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Really? I thought I was pretty wretched.”
Larkin laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, you weren’t exactly saintly. But you were easy to get along with, and considerate, and you worked hard on the mission. Sometimes it seemed like you were the only thing that kept us focused on what we were doing.”
Daisy smiled. “Thanks. You were a perfect little angel from the beginning, so I appreciate your judgment.”
Larkin shook her head, laughing. “I was not a perfect little angel.” She lowered her voice. “I killed my dad.”
Daisy pursed her lips. “Larkin, you gotta believe me. Doing that wasn’t wrong. He was a bad person. He hurt you. And you helped your whole clan by getting rid of him. Honestly, my mom wasn’t even as bad as your dad, but they were both the same type of bad person. They controlled people, they had bad intentions, they hurt people. You can’t torture yourself over it forever.”
Larkin nodded. “You’re right. And I knew you were right when you said it before. I know it in my head most of the time now, but every now and then, I forget. Thanks for reminding me.”
Daisy smiled. “You are probably the best person I know. Don’t forget that.”
Larkin grinned. “Thanks, Daisy. I’ll try not to.”
Daisy adopted a look of mock aggression. “You better not, or else I’ll getcha.”
Larkin pretended to be afraid. “Oh no! I don’t wanna be gotten!”
They giggled together for a while and then smiled.
“How’s Spike?” asked Daisy. “Is he liking life aboard the ship?”
Larkin laughed and held her cactus up to her ear. “He says he misses dry land, but he’s excited for Old Myriad.”
Daisy smiled. “Me too. I’ve never been. It’s one of the only places in the world I haven’t been.”
Larkin grinned. “Don’t commit any crimes, or you’ll be forced to go back to the land where you’re a hero to everyone.”
Daisy laughed. “We wouldn’t want that.”
But Larkin’s words stuck with her. A hero to everyone. I guess so. Maybe one day, I can settle down in a little town and be a hero to at least a few people. And meet someone special. It is time to start over, after all.
The ship bobbed on the waves, and Daisy and Larkin continued to joke and giggle together into the evening. Their future was uncertain, but in that moment, they had each other and the knowledge that they were safe.
—
“I think it’s just a little further down this road,” whispered Larkin, nodding her head down the road to the right at the intersection. Capital City, the capital of Old Myriad, had been hard to navigate, not to mention unnerving–the city was deathly quiet unlike other large cities. Where Daisy was accustomed to places like Strey, where a constant din was an assured part of life, Capital City was nearly silent. The many pale elves and humans who lived there went about their days in stern and quiet determination, and the ancient elven construction of the city was intimidating compared to the more modest and natural cities of Afira. Larkin and Daisy had spent nearly an hour after arriving in Capital City trying to navigate without disturbing the natives there, and they were frequently distracted from their goal by staring at the impressive architecture and by the way they felt somewhat alien in the strange city. The solemn demeanor of Old Myrians was a stark contrast with the dynamic that Larkin and Daisy shared with its constant jokes, high spirits, and playfulness.
“Let’s go then,” Daisy whispered back, and they ambled down the road as quietly as they could in an attempt to be respectful.
The journey at sea had been uneventful, as was the wagon ride from the coast. It had been surreal to spend so many days in a row without major stress or consequence, but Daisy was enjoying herself. She had never gone to a place without fleeing there, and the life of a tourist was markedly different from her experience in life. With Larkin at her side, her mood had been routinely jovial and soft, and she found herself wondering when something would interrupt that. The quiet of Capital City seemed as though it might be that interruption, and yet the quiet was not threatening. It was peaceful. Even as obvious outsiders, Larkin and Daisy were not unwelcome. If anything, they were more curiosities than anything. And Daisy, with her homemade robe of Idunna, was quite at home–the Northreach, where Idunna’s followers tended to reside, was not all that far from Old Myriad, so Daisy’s clothing was something that made her not quite unfamiliar to the continent, even if slightkin were few and far between here.
A massive, ornate building on the left of the road lay ahead. They drew nearer to it, seeing a collection of ornately-armored guards, and knew that it must be the palace. Larkin had explained on the ship that their point of contact would be the High Queen Maela, who was well-acquainted with her mother. This information would have shocked Asp, but Daisy had been dealing with royalty for most of the last month, and she was more amused than fazed by it. Larkin’s mother, Daneel, it seemed, had been well-connected before lapsing into persistent unconsciousness, and Daisy simply accepted this. Her life seemed to move this way now, and her many years as a beggar child and simple thief were now more distant than the highest reaches of society.
“We’re here to see High Queen Maela and my mom, Daneel,” Larkin told the guard at the entrance to the elaborate palace.
The guard nodded. “This way.” She led Larkin and Daisy through the palace’s long and branching hallways, up sprawling flights of stairs, and to a set of double doors at last. The guard nodded to indicate this was the right place to be, knocked lightly on the door, and waited.
“You may enter,” came a soft voice through the door.
The guard pushed the door open, revealing a large and beautifully-decorated throne room. The wealth and complexity of the chamber was impressive, but the striking human woman on the throne took all of Daisy’s attention. She had the bearing of a warrior, but her manner seemed softer than the warriors Daisy had met along the way to this point. Her high cheekbones supported one pale grey eye and one dazzling purple eye which transfixed Daisy, and she found herself approaching the woman slowly without realizing that she was moving. In a moment, she and Larkin stood before the woman, and Daisy bowed deeply.
“You may rise,” said the queen.
“High Queen Maela,” said Larkin quietly. “I’m Larkin. I’ve come to see my mother, Daneel.”
Maela nodded, her eyes staying fixed on the pair before her. “Hello, Larkin. I have heard that you have done the people in Afira a great service. Your mother will be very proud.”
Larkin’s eyes lit up. “Is she okay?”
Maela smiled with a directness that almost overwhelmed Daisy. “She is awake. I imagine she would like to see you.”
Larkin smiled, her mouth open in wonder. “Can I see her?”
Maela nodded and rose from her throne. Her movements were smooth and deliberate, and Daisy realized that Maela was taller than she had realized when the queen was sitting on the throne. Wordlessly, Maela smiled and led them out of the throne room and down the hallway past a few doors before opening one. She stepped inside, where a large and ornate bed lay with a middle-aged hornkin woman in it. The room was luxurious and well-furnished, with a beautiful table laid out with various medical implements and pieces of fine cloth in the corner.
“The nurse must be out collecting supplies,” said Maela quietly, almost as if to herself. “She should return soon.”
Larkin rushed to the bedside, taking her mother’s hand, while Daisy went to the foot of the bed and looked on. Larkin looked down hopefully at her mother, who was drifting back to consciousness from a nap. Daneel’s face said that she was in some discomfort which Daisy believed to be a fever. Daisy stepped closer and began to recite the Chant fluidly and with meaning.
“Idunna, love, spring, rebirth
Give us life to fill this earth
Send us peace where once was strife
Bless our hearts and bring us life
Idunna, luck, fertility
We thank you for prosperity
Allow us faith and help us cope
Fill our souls with zeal and hope”
Pink and white light spiraled from Daisy’s hands and sank into Daneel’s chest. The hornkin woman breathed deeply and opened her eyes. She looked blankly at the ceiling for a moment, then focused her eyes on Larkin.
“Larkin,” she said warmly.
Larkin smiled, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Mom!”
Daneel smiled. “Oh, my child. Where have you been?”
Larkin laughed, overjoyed. “I’m sorry I was gone, Mom. I had to leave, and then I was helping end this war in Afira, and then I came to see you as soon as I could.”
Daneel smiled wider. “Ending a war? Whatever do you mean?”
Maela smiled. “While you were asleep, the elves in Afira and the Ronan’el fought a great and terrible war. Your daughter fought for ten years to end it. The continent is now at peace thanks to her work.”
“Ohhh,” said Daneel. “That’s wonderful. I’m so proud of you, Larkin.”
Larkin beamed. “I worked really hard, Mom. There were a lot of scary things we had to do to make it happen. But we did it.”
“We?” repeated Daneel. “Who else?”
Larkin chuckled, wiping tears from her cheeks. “My friends Sash and Steel-Eyes and Daisy, who’s here with us now. She just helped to heal you some. She helped make you better.”
Daneel looked around the room and saw Daisy. “You’re Daisy?”
Daisy smiled and nodded. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Daneel smiled gently. “Thank you for your help, and for helping my daughter to do something good.”
Daisy grinned. “It was my pleasure.”
“I can’t believe you’re awake,” said Larkin. “We didn’t know if you’d ever wake up. Or if you’d remember me.”
Daneel sighed. “How could I ever forget my wonderful daughter?”
Larkin leaned down and hugged her mother, who gently hugged her back. Daisy could see that Daneel still did not have her full strength back, and she resolved that she would continue her efforts to heal the woman once the time was right. But for that moment, she simply smiled and watched Larkin reunite with her mother.
The sound of a door opening behind her did not stir Daisy. The beauty of seeing Larkin so happy with her family was all she could ask for. She kept watching as the two held each other, and the gentle rise and fall of Larkin’s shoulders told Daisy that Larkin was softly crying again.
“You’re back,” said Maela quietly. “Larkin, this is the nurse who’s been tending to your mother. She’s the one who first saw her awake again. She’s been working very hard to take care of her and help her to recover.”
Daisy turned to look at the nurse. She meant to thank her for her work and for how much it meant to Larkin, her best friend in the world. She saw a slender elven woman with a shock of white hair. But the elven woman was not marked by signs of age like the shade of her hair suggested; her face was angular and lovely in the bloom of youth, or what is to elves youth in any case. The elf looked at Daisy in complete shock, which matched the expression that Daisy herself wore as she looked back at the woman, whose beauty made her forget about everything that had happened in weeks in an instant.
“Asp?” asked the nurse, who Daisy knew well.
Daisy stood in complete silence for a moment before she could accept what was happening. “Candace?”
You can read the next chapter here!
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