The Tears of Kas̆dael

“Momma! You’re back!” The door flung open with a bang, slamming into the wall, and hurried feet scampered across the floor. The bed shook, and a second later, a pair of small arms wrapped around her neck, tearing Aphora out of the pleasant dreams she’d been having.

She wasn’t ready to wake up. The trip she’d undertaken for Ivan might have had a happy ending, but it had been a nightmare. If Aphora had her way, she would have slept for the next three days straight. But Qas̆pa was already chattering endlessly in her ear. Suffocating a groan she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“-and she saved me from the monster, but Limmy was very angry with the Fey lady.”

Aphora’s brow crinkled. “I’m sorry - what were you saying about a monster?”

Undeterred, Qas̆pa retold the story of her adventure with Tesha, and the creature in the ocean that had attacked her. Aphora kept her composure, but inside she sighed. Clearly, I need to have another talk with Tesha. She very nearly killed the child. The only good piece of news was that clearly the Fey leader had felt guilty at the last second and spared her, but it couldn’t be allowed to happen again.

Qas̆pa, though, seemed more excited about her ability to interact with the purple sea than her brush with death, and if anything, the person she was annoyed with was Mullu-Lim. “You’ll make Limmy let me see her again, won’t you,” she begged.

“Maybe later,” Aphora hedged. “But for now, I think you should listen to ‘Limmy.’” The girl’s entreating plea turned into a pout but, somewhat to Aphora’s surprise, the usually headstrong girl didn’t argue. Maybe she understands the danger she was in better than she lets on.

They had a leisurely breakfast together. After weeks on the road, Aphora was thoroughly tired of hard biscuits and dried meat, so she appreciated the spread the servants had prepared more than usual. It wasn’t exactly a feast, but the fried eggs, boiled tubers, and generous flank of beef tasted divine. And then, much to Qas̆pa’s distress, the child was sent off to a school. It was a good two hours past when she should have gone, but…better late than never.

But Aphora was unable to catch a break. No sooner had the girl reluctantly trudged off, then Torin and Mullu-Lim appeared at the dining hall’s door. “Were you just waiting for her to leave?” Aphora asked as she waved them in.

Mullu-Lim surveyed the remaining food and, helping himself to a generous portion, sat down upset her. “I thought it best to give her a little time with you. The poor thing’s missed you terribly.”

“So it seems,” she admitted with a smile, but the smile quickly faded as she remembered the story the girl had told her. “What happened with Tesha?”

The man shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “In the end, nothing. I had a long talk with her afterwards, though.”

“Was she trying to kill Qas̆pa?” Aphora kept her tone steady, but anger burned in her gut.

“I don’t think so,” he admitted after a moment of silence. “At least, not consciously. But she dislikes the child and that manifested in dangerous, reckless behavior. I forbid Qas̆pa from working with her unless there’s someone else there to keep a watch.”

Aphora nodded in agreement. “Very well. I trust your judgment, Limmy.”

“Limmy?!” The man dropped his spoon with a clang. “Not you too, my lady.”

She cracked a grin. “You don’t like your new name?”

“It doesn’t exactly garner respect,” he replied drily.

Aphora laughed. “She means no harm.”

“I know, which is why I allow it, but I must draw the line with you, my lady.”

With another laugh, Aphora turned to Torin. “And what about you? Are the preparations ready?”

The elderly elf nodded solemnly. “Everything is in order, my lady. The temple needs only a few more days to be completed. I have assembled everything we need for the ceremony, save for the arm of the Sidhe. Was your trip successful?”

“It was awful,” she replied with a sigh. “The entire time I felt certain the Sidhe were watching me, waiting to pounce and kill me, and at the end it seems, I may not have been so wrong. A Sidhe was waiting for me by the gate to Arallû.”

Concern pooled in his eyes, but Torin kept his calm. “It seems you survived, my lady, but how? I would not have thought you were strong enough to defeat a Sidhe on your own.”

“I didn’t,” she admitted candidly. “In fact, I didn’t even really fight the Sidhe at all. That was where things got strange,” she added, tapping her hand on the table with a distracted look. “Another Sidhe saved me - the same one who offered me the mission in the first place.”

“Was he just upholding the contract?” Mullu-Lim asked.

Aphora shook her head. “That’s the thing - he wasn’t. There was nothing in our agreement that stipulated he had to come to my aid. Indeed, if one can believe anything a Sidhe says, the whole reason he wanted me to take the mission was so that he could strike at an enemy without his involvement being suspected. Helping me risked all of that, although since everyone died, I suppose his involvement remained hidden.”

“What could he possibly want then?” Torin replied.

Her cheeks colored slightly. “He has been rather…amorous.”

“Surely you haven’t accepted his advances?” He asked hesitantly.

“Well…” she trailed off, knowing the old elf wouldn’t pleased by her reply. Torin had always been disappointed by Aphora’s failure to settle down. Though he wasn’t her father, the elf had raised her, and her long string of lovers, as well as the handful of bastard children, had always been a source of distress to him.

Torin’s lips thinned, interpreting her silence all too easily. “You can’t trust a Sidhe,” he countered.

“Do you think I don’t know that,” she snapped, “but this one is different. He seems to be on good terms with both Selene and Kas̆dael, and while it is rare, it’s not unheard for a Sidhe to make peace with our people.”

“What troubles me is that I can’t figure out what he wants from us or,” she hesitated, “maybe just from me. And yet,” Aphora sighed, “our community is quite isolated from friends and allies. If this Sidhe is willing to help us, I can’t afford to ignore him.” Her reasoning was sound, though Aphora knew, if she was being honest with herself, that she wouldn’t have ignored him anyways. Even if she couldn’t bring herself to fully trust him, there was something about the man that set her blood on fire with desire.

Torin looked unsatisfied, but he let the matter drop. “I’ll just have to trust your judgment, my lady. Now, for the temple, do you wish to proceed as soon as it is finished.”

Happy for the change of topic, Aphora pondered his question for a minute before replying. “No, let’s put it off for a few weeks. I want everything to be perfect.”

The days passed quickly. Under Torin’s oversight, the elves finished the last touches of the temple to Selene. Though it was nowhere near as large as the temples in Gis̆-Izum, what it lacked in size, they had made up for in beauty.

Set a short distance outside their small settlement, the temple occupied a squat bluff that overlooked the glowing lavender sea. Only the finest of marble and alabaster had been used in its construction, and its pure white surface reflected the sea’s light with an almost ethereal glow. The temple rose three stories into the air, each one stepped by like a layered cake, and a long, steep staircase descended from the top all the way down to the sands of the narrow beach.

The focal point, though, was the statue of Selene. It was here that their finest craftsmen had focused their efforts. Dripping in jewels, silver, and gold, the divine mother stood on a crescent boat. Great waves of purple, crafted from amethysts mined in the caves, surrounded the sea but Selene stayed serene, her hands clutching to her breast a newborn child with long ears and deep blue eyes.

Aphora was particularly proud of the statue; drawing on her own encounters with the goddess, she’d sketched the initial image herself, and the craftsmen had elevated it to a whole new level. It was breathtaking, and she could only hope that the goddess would find it a suitable offering.

By the end of three weeks, the preparations were finally finished. The day started off with celebration. A hundred of Mullu-Lim’s warriors gathered before the temple and, with naked blades, whirled and danced before the goddess to the beating of the drums. The people watched in silence, arrayed in rows around the temple’s base, while the priests spread a feast before them.

And then Aphora arrived. All fell silent as she, dressed in a simple linen tunic, ascended the great stairs. Torin and Mullu-Lim, as well as Tesha and a few representatives from amongst the Fey leaders, followed behind her, each one bringing an offering for the altar. When they reached the top, Aphora spread the ingredients of the ritual across the stone slab and, adding a sprinkle of her own blood, set them ablaze.

As the flames took hold, a trio of priests came to join them, bearing three gifts for the goddess. Aphora took the delicate tunic offered and wrapped it around the statue’s shoulders. She took the crown of flowers too and placed it upon Selene’s head, bowing deeply before it. Lastly, she took the food and drink. Portions of each were lifted to the statue’s mouth and then were added to the flames, who surged heavenward with unnatural strength.

With each step of the ritual, a heavy presence grew, reassuring Aphora that Selene was watching. With trembling hands, she drew the arm of the Sidhe out of her bag of holding.

She held it high above the flames as she began the final step of the ritual.

Iṭlī ummī s̆a ammīni. Iṣrīni u bulliṭī gattīka.

“Look down, O Mother of our People. Watch over us and enliven your form.”

Dummuqīni kī nīnu immurū s̆arūrīka qus̆s̆udū

"Grant us favor, that we might see your sacred light."

Aphora spoke the words alone the first time she said them, but the priests and nobles joined the second repetition, and on the third, all the people joined her as, with one voice, elves and Fey alike beseeched Selene to heed their call.

Dropping the arm into the flames, Aphora barely stepped back in time to avoid getting injured as a pillar of flames exploded from the altar, hiding the statue from view.

The ground rumbled and she fought to stay on her feet as the earth bucked and swayed beneath them, but Aphora kept her eyes glued toward the dark and distant ceiling of the caverns, for there, a light began to glow.

It was faint at first, as unremarkable as the twinkling of a solitary star. But as the earth continued to shake, the light expanded rapidly, swelling in size until a small orb of light hung above the city. Despite the lack of sun, its light shone with the gentle rays of the moon and as its rays fell on the statue, the trembling ceased and the pillar of fire fell silent. Aphora fell on her knees before Selene, gratitude swelling in her heart.

As much as she had hoped that her people could form a safe colony in Arallû, Aphora had underestimated the effects of the realm’s constant twilight. But now, with the goddess’ light shining down on them, she knew they could make it work. The rest of the night passed in a haze. The feasting and dancing carried on to the next day, and Aphora, as the leader of her people, passed from one group to the next, never able to catch a break. But she didn’t mind; all she could feel was relief. The eddekkû hadn’t lied to her - they really could make this place a home.