Page 168 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

Naril snorts, and I know he’s going to make some smartass comment, but a smacking sound makes me look over. “Ouch!” he complains, rubbing at his arm. He’s glaring at Vaeril, and I can work out what happened. Usually, I’d find this amusing, but my attention keeps being snatched away by the huge, unknown presence tapping at the edge of my consciousness.

“Ignore him,” Vaeril instructs, his voice soft, and I can feel his eyes on me. “What are they saying?” He’s almost whispering now, and I appreciate that he’s taking this seriously, that he believes me.

Closing my eyes, I try to focus on the presence that’s surrounding me. It’s strange, like one mind, but when I reach out, I can feel hundreds of smaller ones. It’s not words, but feelings and flashes of images.

“Welcome home.”

There’s a beat of silence, and when I open my eyes, I meet Vaeril’s awed gaze. He’s watching me like he’s never seen me before and has just properly noticed me for the first time.

“Well, that’s not at all creepy,” Naril drawls from the back of his horse, breaking the tense atmosphere. Snorting, Vaeril signals for us to start walking again.

Our horses fall into line behind Vaeril, not really requiring much direction from me, so I let my mind wander. Nudgesagainst my mind have me opening my senses once again, and I smile as I’m welcomed back. I was right, the trees hereareold, millennia old, and have many stories to tell. The closer we get to the wood elves, the deeper within the trees’ consciousness I seem to delve.

“Clarissa.Alina.”

The voice makes me blink, and I get the impression from his frustrated tone that this wasn’t the first time he’s called me. I look around and realise we’ve come to a stop, and I frown as I wonder why. Glancing over at Naril, I see he’s facing forward, his eyes focused on something, and I notice Vaeril is doing the same. Gazing over the top of my horse’s head, I see an elf standing between two trees, blocking our path.

He’s not like any elf I’ve ever seen before. He’s dark, tall, and has willowy limbs, and as I look closer, I see his brown skin looks more like bark than flesh. He’s wearing what looks like leaves and a cloak of moss. Pointed ears poke through his shoulder-length brown hair, and he has an angular chin and sharp cheekbones. He has all the unearthly beauty of the fae, but he has soft kind eyes, which happen to be locked on me. I have the strangest feeling, like I’ve known this elf all my life, but I know for certain I’ve never seen him before.

“Welcome home, youngling.” His voice is like the rustle of leaves in the breeze, soft yet powerful. My heart slams in my chest as he repeats what the trees whispered into my mind. How does he know who I am? We hadn’t sent any warning that we were coming, the decision was only made the night before we left Galandell, so how could he know?

Holding the reins in one hand, I dismount my horse, pat her on the neck gently, and whisper my thanks to her for my safe journey before taking a few steps closer to the wood elf. The others do the same, not worrying about tying up the horses or fearing they might wander away. During our journey,they explained that their horses are different than the ones the humans use. While looking similar, they are very intelligent and have a willpower of their own.

I stop just a few steps from the elf, knowing I’m supposed to wait for Vaeril to introduce us, but I need to know something. “How did you know we were coming?”

Naril groans at my breach in protocol, but the elf in front of us just smiles, his eyes still locked on me. “The trees told me,” is his simple reply, as if this answers everything. Which, I guess, knowing what I know now about this forest, could very well be true.

Vaeril clears his throat and takes a step forward. “Speaker Hawthorn,” he greets, lowering his head in the salutation the elves seem to favour as the elf turns his attention to him. I watch in interest as the wood elf, Speaker Hawthorn, observes impassively. “My name is Lord Vaeril, and we come from Galandell with the hope you can help my friend.”

There’s a pause as the older elf seems to think on Vaeril’s words, his demeanour changing completely from the happy, open elf he’d been on our arrival. He’s not unfriendly, but there is a definite wariness there as he looks over the two lords. Eventually, he nods slowly. “I remember you. You’re the elf who was captured.” I swear I see a hint of sympathy in his eyes, but it’s gone in a blink.

Vaeril shifts his weight on his feet, and I glance over, expecting to see an uncomfortable expression on his face, but he’s wearing his usual neutral mask he wears around the castle. “Yes. My mate helped me escape.” He gestures to me, and the speaker follows his arm to look at me again, his expression warming into a smile.

A loud cough fills the small clearing, and with a frown, I look over at Naril, who’s wearing an innocent expression. Attemptingto hide his smile, Vaeril gestures first at his friend and then to me. “This is my companion, Lord Naril, and my mate, Clarissa.”

The look of disinterest that the speaker gives Naril nearly makes me laugh out loud, knowing that the lord would take that as a great slight. He may be a snarky prankster, but he’s hot on his court protocols. Making a mental note to bring this up again with Naril later, I pull my attention back to the speaker as he takes a few steps towards me. We’re close now, with only a few inches between us, and if I reach out, my hand would brush against his textured skin.

“These males are your friends?” he asks in a low, serious tone, his eyes scanning my face. “You trust them?”

The fact he seems to trust my verdict of the two high elves—me, a half-elf, half-human mongrel—astounds me. He doesn’t know me at all, yet he seems to act like he does. Is it my wood elf ancestry that is calling him to me, that makes him trust me?

Looking into his deep, forest green eyes, I find myself smiling. “Yes, I do.”

As if my word is good enough, he nods his head and turns to face the high elves. “Then you are welcome here,” he says, his voice slightly warmer now that I’ve vouched for them. Looking at me once again, he smiles warmly and his eyes crinkle. “Child, we have been awaiting you.” Gesturing for me to follow him, he turns and starts walking along the bracken path he’d been standing in front of.

For a second, I stand there dumbstruck, staring at his retreating back until Vaeril gently nudges me forward. I jog to catch up to the speaker. “What do you mean? You knew I existed?” There’s a hint of hurt in my voice. If they had known I existed, why hadn’t they come and rescued me? I’d been just a child, surely no child deserves to be in slavery? I know I shouldn’t feel that way, it’s not reasonable to expect a race to go into war to save a single child, but the hurt is there nonetheless.

As if able to sense my feelings, he glances over at me with a sympathetic expression. “Yes, the earth told us. We’ve known you were coming for a long time, we just didn’t know the timings of it.” He must see my confused expression because he smiles. “We had a vision of you about twenty years ago, but no idea of when you would be coming to us.”

My eyes widen in shock. Twenty years ago, that would have been when I was born. They’ve known about this moment for twenty years? Apparently oblivious to my shock, he continues on.

“When Menishea started to return in the last few weeks, we knew it was only a matter of time until you came home.”

I fall silent as I follow him through the forest, not really paying attention to our surroundings. I’m aware of Vaeril close behind me, and I’m sure Naril is not far away either, but my mind is spinning. The way the speaker welcomed me ‘home’ and said that I ‘came home’ makes it sound like I’ve been here before, or that I will be staying here for a long time. Home is a funny concept for me, but I can’t deny that I feel welcome here, like it’s somewhere I’m finally returning to.

“Menishea…” I sound out the word, trying to remember what Master Ardeth had told me about her. “She is like your Mother Nature? Your goddess?”

The speaker seems to stumble for a second and looks at me with a mixture of shock and concern. “Your lack of knowledge of your own people is disturbing.” I open my mouth to apologise, to explain that I only recently learned that I was part elf, wood elf at that, but he raises a hand. “No, don’t apologise, it is not your fault.” Offering me a gentle smile, he glances over his shoulder to give a quick glare at the high elves following us. “We will teach you.” Reaching out, he pats my shoulder reassuringly. “Let’s get you comfortable. I will explain everything over the celebration meal tonight.”

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