THE CHAINED GIFT XXVI: Mourning

'Imagine your mind is a high watchtower in the middle of a desert field. Up there you're able to control the whole landscape without missing a thing, with just a look around. That's a telepath's or an empathic's mind, and any intruder approaching from the horizon, any other mind within your reach will become visible for you. Like it or not. The watcher up the watchtower is unable to close his eyes; sometimes not even while he sleeps.'

'You perceive the minds around you yourself. You are unable to identify those thoughts or emotions precisely, but your head knows they are there in a vague way, like a vibration in the air or an object coming between you and your source of light and casting a shadow. And you do it unconsciously, and all those entities leave their mark on you, causing that buzzing that can become so unbearable. Being in a place with many people will make it even worse: that's why you must learn not to watch from the top of your watchtower, to look inside of you, and not outside. In due time you will also have to learn to hide your own consciousness from outer intrusions, because in the same way as you control the field at your feet, you yourself are visible from faraway, up your tower. You must concentrate on listening to your own thoughts only, on weaving that shield that will keep you isolated. Listen to your inner self, ignore what's around and focus on your own silence.'

Caradhar was trying to follow Lioges' instructions. Since his arrival to Dervharn the light buzzing in his head hadn't stopped increasing, specially since his visit to the caverns. He had started to have those dreams, as vivid as his first experience in the oneiric world, and each morning he would wake up in bewilderment, trying to decide if what he had lived was real or just his imagination. And that strange sensation, as if his mind were miles away and everything around him were in the dark, either night or sunlight...

'It doesn't work.' The redhead shook his head. 'I try to do as you say but I can't concentrate. You say I must focus on my own thoughts, but sometimes I feel as if those wouldn't belong to me anymore...'

'It's all right.' Lioges rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 'We won't force it, and I can keep weaving a shield for you. It's difficult to learn to control it after a whole life without doing it, but I assure you we'll succeed.'

'I can't even read minds, I never could. How can you be sure it's like that? Maybe this place is just trying to hurt me...'

'Caradhar...' the hand went up to his cheek, 'nobody here would ever try to hurt you. And if that were remotely possible, I would...'

'Missing your wife, Lio?' asked a playful voice from the window. The elf suddenly lowered his hand.

'Mirtuillë...'

The young female smiled broadly and jumped inside the healer's living-room. Uninvited, she sat on the floor, between them, and cast a shameless look at both elves. Lioges sighed: Vira never used to spend much time among his people, but the girl always followed him around when he did, and had acquired enough of his uncivilised habits. Father didn't approve of that influence, but on the other hand, as he always thought, it was much better if exerted on a girl than on a boy... Truth be told he was fairly permissive with her, as he was proud of the amazing talent she was clearly developing... One day she's be a wonderful weaver, as good as Lioges.

'Hello, Caradhar.' she greeted. 'My Lord Killjoy still didn't bore you to death? I have to admit he's much more cheerful since you're here: he doesn't reek of mouldy books every day after spending too many hours in the library. He needed the arrival of a city elf to get him out of there... but the way he monopolises you is completely unfair! When will you spend some time with me? There's a recital in the clearing tonight, and ancient stories will be told. Some of them will make you howl with boredom but you can always find some decent reciters. Tell me you will come with me!'

'Girl...' started the healer.

'Never mind. I'll go with you, Mirtuillë,' answered the gifted. 'I'll meet you at the clearing after supper.'

'Great!' She held the young elf, delighted, and he allowed her; he had got used to her exuberance. Besides, in contrast with most of the forest inhabitants, her closeness had relaxing effects on the chaos his head had become, when Lioges wasn't near him. 'Get dressed up because I'll look very pretty... All Dervharn will envy us! Well: you, me... and Lio, as I'm sure he won't be very far away.' She chuckled. 'I'll leave you alone before our respected healer presents me with his most piercing gaze... Don't you dare to miss it!'

Mirtuillë went out using the same window, agile like a cat. Lioges followed her with a certainly disapproving stare and then turned to his young companion, who asked:

'I didn't know you were married. Where's your wife?'

'She belongs to another clan. It is normal for us to live away from our spouses, as we don't pair off our own people but can't leave our duties here either.'

'Do you have children?'

'Yes.' Lioges desperately tried to read the redhead's reaction, but he only found curiosity. That was somehow disappointing... although he knew very well what he was thinking right then... 'Are you going to agree to our guide's request?' Caradhar nodded absently. 'Tell me, what made you change your mind? I thought you detested the idea.'

'If that's the price to pay to have my head put in order, I'll do it.'

'You don't have to pay anything that...'

'I won't owe anything to anyone. It seems my fluids are the only valuable thing I possess.' There was irony and bitterness in his voice. 'It has been always like that for everyone, except for...' He stopped abruptly and frowned. Lioges watched a very clear image taking shape in his mind, and squinted. But the moment passed quickly. 'All my life I practised alchemy, believing science was the only way to look at the world. And now I discover I always ignored the truth, magic was always there, and I myself have been trying to suffocate it...'

'You had no way to know...'

'No, but I do know now, and although I still don't believe that's really my heredity, I have to do all I can to confirm it. I never cared to know who I was, Lioges, neither I did nor, let's be fair, nobody else did. But knowing what I am... is important. I need it.'

'Savhran came to speak to me after he returned from the mountains. He really believes I carry a seed in my blood that will help to purify magic. I accept it's fair to collaborate to clean what I myself helped to contaminate... but I will only do it once. If he has so much faith in gods' hand intervention, a single kid will be enough.' Lioges stared at him bitterly. The youngest elf looked down. 'Did he already decide who will be the mother?'

'...His own daughter.'

'Not that I really care.'

'And I suppose he will offer you to marry her...'

Caradhar shook his head.

'No. I won't pair off or tie myself beyond that to anyone or anything.' The gifted stood up. 'I'm going to take a bath, and then will think of an excuse for tonight. I'm not in the mood for recitals.'

While the young elf walked away, Lioges was seized by doubt. He knew he had to feel satisfied: he fully trusted his guide, and finally the wish they had longed for during all those years would come true. They could only be grateful to the divine intervention for something like that. And yet...

Not for the first time he found himself regretting Caradhar hadn't been born a female.

***

'The armies from Argailias and Therendanar took up Varemethe again and are heading to the North, to Aiksenn. There's a lot of agitation in the streets. Your people, and also the humans, are sending levies to cover the casualties and reinforce their defences, as the majority of the troops departed with the Prince. In my opinion Northerners will move East and make an attempt across the mountains. I bet they had been seeing how the land lied in case things became difficult in this front.'

Sül raised the bastard sword with his left hand and stood on guard, imitating Vira's pose, who was standing in front of him. He still couldn't believe he had decided to spend his time training with the Silvan, but he had nothing better to do to keep his mind occupied. Dainhaya's presence, her sweet words, her stories about places he didn't know... had managed to soothe his mood enough to push him to feed himself again and try to recover his energy. As for the tall Silvan... Right, one had to give him credit for being surprisingly good with weapons. Sül still suspected he was using some of his magic tricks during their sessions, even if the elf assured those were his own physical abilities. Needless to say, the Shadow didn't trust him too much.

'As far as I'm concerned they can go and get it up their arses,' was the youngest elf's answer. 'Ummankor is a filthy hole and damn alchemy caused me nothing but misfortune, so I'd be more than satisfied if it burnt in hell.' Vira smiled faintly. He could agree with his companion's opinion about alchemy, of course, but not about Ummankor. 'And I'm surprised you're interested about this war: I thought you'd spend your time in the forests devoted to more spiritual things, like worshipping the gods or holding fertility rituals...'

The Shadow attacked. Vira used to fight with his left hand, hence Sül had to adjust his movements to try to penetrate a left-handed elf's defences, while holding his weapon himself with his unused hand. Of course, Darshi'nai trained against both types of opponents, but left-handed fighters weren't very common in practise. Besides he wasn't back on form and the bastard sword was uncomfortable to wield one-handed. After several hits that the Silvan blocked easily, the dark-haired elf placed his right hand on the hilt and tried to fight two-handed.

'Change the position of your hands, they're too close to both ends. I've been wandering this city for too long, Sül. In the end you get to acquire the same interests as the people around you. Worshipping the gods? I respect them and I hope they'll leave me alone in return. Fertility rituals, me? You must be kidding... Don't use your right hand... No, you aren't holding it firmly: a tiny blow and it will fly away, closely followed by your virility...'

'Go to hell...You're a head taller than me, apart from left-handed, and you eat like a pig: of course you'll have more strength, technique and energy than me for this... And why did you decide to go into exile, to become... an outcast, as you said, and rot in Aragilias? Were you kicked all the way here 'cause they couldn't see the moment to get rid of you? I can believe that...'

'Oh, so you think I am at an advantage? No problem.' The Silvan started to use his right hand and launched a mighty attack on his opponent' left thigh. Sül had to stop it with both hands, and still the strength of the lunge shook his weapon. 'Don't use your right hand, I tell you... Let's say both sides, my elders and me, were more than satisfied to lose sight of each other. They said I could be proud of the talent running through my veins, but I wasn't willing to do the, let's call it sowing, and I could be, venerable goddess, a bad influence for young and sensible male elves. So we agreed my collaboration with Dainhaya would come in useful. I haven't touched a female in all my life; the sole idea makes me shiver... I'm a blasphemous that proved to be of no use for my people,' he added cynically. 'Luckily for them, my brother's blood is even purer than mine, and he takes his duties very seriously: he has four children already and at least two are talented. At this rate he will make up for my share and his to please the community...'

'Then... how can you agree on sending others to do something you find revolting?' The Shadow attacked with his unused hand, but he was losing his energy and concentration. Vira parried almost blindly.

'Do you think it was my idea? To start with, my circumstances and the boy's are very different: I'm expendable, while he has a unique heredity. Furthermore you have to admit his attitude towards the opposite gender is not like mine at all...'

Sül felt as if he had slapped him. He was right, of course, but still it was too painful to hear. He clenched his jaw and started to deal blows left, right and centre from both directions. Vira's sword was wielded with precision, without wasting a single movement to block all those attacks that would only exhaust the weakened Shadow. Both elves crossed their weapons in front of them and struggled: the black-haired elf pushed as strong as he could but was unable to make his rival move a single inch back. As for the Silvan, he pushed Sül's blade down in a circular movement with his own one and moved aside suddenly; the youngest elf lost balance and rushed forward, due to his impulse and the weight of his weapon, stumbled and almost ended on the floor. He faced his opponent back immediately and defended himself with his sword, but Vira's one was already striking hard, his grip much firmer, hooking it and sending it flying against one wall, as he had announced. He himself threw his aside, with disdain.

'I guess chatting and training at the same time isn't a good idea,' he said. 'At the sole mention of your lover your concentration has gone to hell. You have been more calmed lately; I thought you had started to accept it.'

'To accept what? That he's gone? I won't ever accept that. I don't care what you think about me or about Caradhar: I'm in love with him. He'll forget what happened... he'll be back... he has to...'

The Silvan released a long sigh. That was a situation he wasn't used to: for the first time in his life someone he desired was resisting him...

No, it wasn't truly the first time. He remembered his adolescence in Dervharn. From the start he had been aware that his instincts didn't follow the rules of nature, so deeply rooted among his people. Attraction towards his own gender was no natural for him that he had never tried to suppress it.

He remembered the first elf he had harboured feelings for. He was as young as him, his smile so infectious that it was enough to cheer the bitterest moment. He always used to tell him how much he envied his eyes and hair, the double mark of talent. Although he didn't lack of magic abilities, he didn't possess any of those two, and wouldn't let pass the occasion to joke and ask him to give up on one at least; then he would take a lock of the long wine-coloured mane and let it fall down his shoulder, as if it were part of his own tresses...

He remembered the days he took advantage of the proximity of their faces and kissed him. It was an innocent kiss, barely a brush of the lips... his first kiss... The young elf didn't react right away. He just let go of his hair, which got spread over his shoulder, mixed with his own dark mane.

He remembered, how to forget that, his disgusted look; the way he had moved his face away; the bridge between him and the young elf's shoulder, made of his own hair, stretching little by little and coming undone, until not even a single wine-coloured thread remained in contact with him...

They never did any more. He never touched him again, and their conversations were reduced to cold greetings... For the first time he had loved, and for the first time he had been rejected. He could never forget it.

When the opportunity to leave the forest arose it didn't take him long to seize it. He had started to develop his combat talents and was skilful enough to manage among the outside elves and support Dainhaya. He learned as much as he could from the Darshi'nai. Their techniques paled in comparison to a talented elf, yet they were still useful. Last, but not least, he could follow his natural instincts and engage in one adventure after another, with so many elves that he had lost track of them, devoting himself to the pleasure of seducing, winning over and collecting the price without having to hold back, and barely needing to use his attraction talent... He was well aware of the fact that he would never choose candidates who would inspire him anything beyond lust; that he never used to see them again; that he would never try to know them.

Somehow he knew he was right: love was nothing but a source of problems and frustrations and sufferings... Did he need further proof? A very clear one was standing in front of him, and the tortured look of those dark eyes should have been enough to warn him against any impulse of giving in to feelings.

Too bad it was too late...

Too bad there was no way of stopping his feelings for that passionate Shadow who, unlike him, had never completely rejected the idea of love, and once he had found it had embraced it from the bottom of his heart. In the devout society of Dervharn, where the only things that mattered were magic and blood; in the decadent Argailian society, where everything came down to search for power and pleasure by means of alchemy... how many elves like Sül could be found? Radiant, and ardent, and passionate... alive as none he had met before. And that young elf had chosen to feed his fire on an ice floe.

What was worse, he, Vira, had followed him in his fall; his heart, that should have remained closed, had got opened again and let someone who seemed to be inevitably out of his reach in. The idea confused him; tortured him; maddened him.

'What if he can't change, Sül? What if he keeps doing the same to you, again and again?' The Shadow eyed him, divided between angst and anger. 'What if he finally decides not to come back?'

'I'll wait,' obstinately stated the young elf. 'As much as needed.'

'And if he still doesn't?'

'Then...' The dark gaze turned cold. 'then nothing would matter anymore, and you can't watch me forever...'

'Would you rather be dead than with me?'

'I'd rather be dead than without him.'

***

'Are you resolved, Caradhar? For the last time, you don't need to do this...'

'Please, Lioges. I just want to be done with it.'

'All right,' agreed the healer, somehow frustrated. 'I have work to do in the library. I hope... I wish everything...'

What could he wish? Nothing he could put into words. Lioges left the bedroom and closed the door.

Caradhar remained on the bed, looking around, since he couldn't do anything else. So that was the place chosen by his partner: a house on top of a huge tree whose only accesses were a long spiral staircase and a extremely high footbridge. The decoration was much more ornamented and stylised than usual: wood and silver artisan works, a folding screen with exquisitely embroidered fabric, a big bed with a fine curtain... Chiefs' daughters were always chiefs' daughters, no matter the name they received. As for him, he was only wearing trousers and a light robe.

When he was starting to wonder if she had changed her mind, the side door opened and closed very fast, and a female figure leaned against it. She was also wearing a male robe, her legs sticking out in a fairly indecent way for Silvan standards. She was smiling nervously and her cheeks were burning.

'...Mirtuillë ?' managed to ask Caradhar. 'What are you...?'

The girl walked towards the bed and knelt on it besides the intrigued redhead, who faced her frowning.

'I'm going to be your partner, Caradhar,' she answered, slightly embarrassed. 'Disappointed?'

'I thought... it had been decided my partner would be the guide's daughter. I met her at the caverns, she was...'

'...my elder sister? She's already engaged, silly. Too bad for her... Moreover they say my talent is stronger than hers. I did my best to get to know you better but... you're so unsociable! And now...' she bit her lower lip and approached him even more, 'well... I warn you it's my first time, so don't expect much...'

'I don't understand... you're the guide's daughter and you agree on having a child with someone like me, knowing I won't even become your husband... why do you do it? Why does your father allow it?'

'It will be a great honour to carry your blood. What can be more important than that?' She looked at him as if she thought the question was ridiculous. 'Besides...' she sat astride his lap, leaving shyness aside, 'I bet my child will be extremely beautiful, with a father like you...' she bent over him and whispered to his ear, 'and many told me I am pretty... enough not to disappoint you, I hope...'

She got rid of her robe, the only fabric that covered her nakedness. She was still young but certainly beautiful... Caradhar would have desired her in the past; that is, until her mother had played that dirty trick on him with the mute servant.

Lady Neskahal was the last female he had been with: very attractive, but he wouldn't have bedded her out of his own choice, and not even a single time he had taken her in an... orthodox way. And now he was expected to do it with a young girl he regarded as a boisterous kid...

'What's wrong? Don't you like me?'

She slid her hands under his robe and shyly stroked his firm, well-defined stomach, and his body tensed up. Then she softly kissed him under his ear while her daring hand sneaked into his trousers and ran along his member. True, the girl lacked of experience... but she had enough to know it didn't possess the right consistence... She looked at him in confusion, raising an eyebrow. Caradhar tightened his lips.

'I'm sorry, I though I could do it, but... I... I can't.' The wine-coloured eyes became disappointed and resentful. 'Maybe tomorrow, once I've had time to assimilate it, but now...'

She stood up, grabbed her robe and ran out of the bedroom. She couldn't understand his rejection; she thought the cause had to be her lack of attractiveness but... she had always noticed all those admiring eyes fixed on her. Then, why...?

As for the gifted, he swallowed, lay on the mattress and closed his eyes. The buzzing inside his head had increased considerably, because Lioges wasn't there to weave his shield. It was strange: he had almost perceived that girl's desire and her irritation with his own eyes, so intensely they had struck him. And yet another sensation, that knot in his stomach... that unfulfilled need, not of sex, but of something he couldn't quite identify... Gods, he'd had given anything to fall asleep in his arms...

Faithful to his word he tried again the next day. Mirtuillë seemed to be willing to forgive his initial coldness and changed tactics: she decided not to look aggressive, but sweet and tender. After all, many males liked to take the initiative... She lay besides him, satisfied with just blowing his hair away to gently kiss the skin of his neck; as he still didn't make up his mind, she took one of his hands and placed it upon her breast, suggestively sliding her leg between his. She searched for his lips and brushed them with her own ones, and again, more deeply; neither he moved them away nor took active part either. Finally she felt one more time the state of his crotch. Nothing.

'Oh, great...' she said, frustrated once more. 'I think I'm losing my time. Obviously you can only get it up with your own gender, right? I can't believe it...' She got up and put on her robe, grimacing. 'Why am I always attracted to guys who wouldn't lay a hand on me?'

She stormed out of the room, leaving Caradhar again lying on the bed, with that weird feeling that plunged him into confusion. He wasn't aware of the time he spent there until someone knocked at the door and entered discreetly: Lioges. The healer sat down close to him and remained silent for a while. Then he said:

'Nobody will reproach you for changing your mind, Caradhar... I understand you perfectly...'

'It isn't that... it's...' The young elf covered his face with the palm of his hand. 'I believe since... since that girl... I haven't been able... It must be that, because I can't find another explanation. I want to do it, but...'

'Calm down.' The healer seemed to meditate something. 'Caradhar, there's... another way to obtain the same result. And probably it wouldn't be so difficult for you.' The redhead stared at his companion blankly. 'After all, the only thing needed to make her conceive is your seed. I know how to do it, I just need to collect it right after leaving your body.'

The gifted sat up, his face displaying surprise. He was trying to digest those words, but they looked too bizarre to be true. Almost... as if he were a breeding animal... Although it wasn't worth trying to deceive himself: that was right what he was, wasn't that?

'You just need to relax, think of something that pleases you and let yourself go. Once you're ready I'll take it. Don't worry, I will wait behind the folding screen for you to call me. And I'm a doctor, do not feel ashamed... do you wish to try it?'

Caradhar stared at him. He felt much more relaxed now, because the healer had woven the protective spell around him, although he suspected he had done something else... But he didn't care: the strange thing he had suggested had to be better than going to bed with the young female. At least he didn't have to touch anyone... almost. He took a deep breath and nodded. Lioges disappeared from view behind the screen, and the gifted took his robe off and introduced his hand into his trousers...

Once he finished the healer came back and collected the spilled seed in the most discreet way possible. Cardhar watched him, panting, though Lioges took good care of avoiding his red eyes. It wasn't the first time he was seeing him practically naked (the young elf kept being as immodest as usual) but he had never touched him like that, in such an intimate way. He had to make an enormous effort to maintain his composure, to prevent his hand from slipping along an inconvenient place, from coming into contact with that part of him that had to belong to a lover's touch only...

When he left the room he leaned against the wall and forced himself to relax, to pacify the rhythm of his breath. Blood had collected between his legs...

He had no doubts any more about the kind of attraction he was feeling towards him. May the forest goddess be merciful, but the only thing he wanted right then was going back in there, pinning him down against the mattress and kissing him breathless, and entering him until he were unable to think of anything else.

He didn't do it, of course. He pulled himself together the best he could and went to do his duty.

He was sitting on another body, skin on skin, stark naked and sweaty. Strong thighs surrounded his own ones; a muscular chest supported his back; an erect member pressed firmly against his rear, accommodated between his buttocks, moist with excitement, but without trespassing the door of his back entrance.

They were busy with something else right then: his arms surrounded his waist, his hands had taken possession of his sex, caressing each corner, spreading his own nectar along the hard flesh while they quickly travelled up and down... He wasn't aware of where he had placed his own hands; most probably they would be covering his lover's ones, keeping them in place while he almost reached his peak, his back arched, his head resting on his shoulder, that jet black hair tickling his cheek...

Lioges would go to him every four days and repeat the ritual. He would try everything that were on hand (great euphemism) to get excited and the healer would wait, ready to take away what he needed, what made him valuable for the forest people. Somehow all that business sickened him and yet, even if he almost felt like an animal, was also comforted by a strange satisfaction because he didn't have to share a bed with anyone. No doubt he wouldn't have managed to hurt Sül as much as the other times... no doubt...

He thought of him, of his hands, his tongue, to push himself to the limit. He remembered what he and the Shadow had shared, his special ability to make him feel as much pleasure and no-one before, as a certain day in which they had decided they would use their fingers only to satisfy each other...

His mind had brought those fingers back on his body. They were nothing but a shadow of what he remembered, but they'd have to do. And to be honest, the illusion was becoming more and more vivid as he was getting close to his climax. He had had to lie on the mattress, and his tense muscles presaged the close dénouement. He could hear his own heavy breathing through his half-open lips, feel the quick movements of his chest, the heat on his face.. His orgasm shook him and he spent some seconds trembling, like that time he was sitting on Sül's lap, his erection roughly pushing against his entrance, begging to cross it. He opened his eyes...

But it wasn't Sül the one lying besides the gifted. It was Lioges, his cheeks blushed; his lips bathing him with his burning breath, so close to his they almost touched; his hand, that had sneaked into his trousers the gods knew when, seizing his throbbing member; his eyes so deeply lost into the younger elf's crimson ones that it was easy to read his feelings... They remained like that for many heartbeats, not daring to move, until the healer decided to lower his head and cover the short distance that separated their lips...

Caradhat closed his mouth abruptly.

'I thought it needed to be collected right after leaving my body,' he said with tense voice.

Lioges froze for an instant. Then he slowly stoop up and did as the gifted had reminded him. He wasn't thinking clearly: he was disorientated because rejection had struck him like a punch in his stomach and almost rendered him breathless.

After he was done he left the room in silence, his lips tightly pressed and a terrible burden on his heart.

***

Vira went out of the bathtub, covered himself with a dry cloth and sat on the bench; he stroked his lower lip, as every time he was lost in deep thoughts.

He had spent several days wandering across the city, leaving Dainhaya and Sül in each other's company. He had slipped into everywhere, gathering news from the war, state secrets, simple gossips. He had even sought for entertainment in some brothels in the Ditch, because he didn't feel like bothering with seducing any young elf. The results left a lot to be desired; he couldn't think of anyone else but the one he had left behind... right to stop thinking of him.

He would have gladly charged the wall, head first: that he, an elf who was fondly called by his female companion the whore, had to find himself in that situation, as when he was a virgin, innocent little boy, head over heels for that swine... Well, he used to think the Shadow was way too pathetic, but in his defence he could say he had needed years to reach that state. He himself had needed a lot less...

Maybe, he was saying to himself, it was a simple sexual frustration. How could he know? Maybe a day of sex with the Darshi'nai was all he needed to satisfy his ardour. It usually happened to him that he lost all interests in his conquest once he had taken him to bed. Could it be a coincidence that he had harboured deeper feelings right for the ones he hadn't got laid with?

Not that it mattered, because Sül wouldn't allow him to do it. What was he going to do? Drugging him and having his way with him? Raping him? He harshly banged his head on the wall and slapped himself; then he covered his cheek with the palm of his hand because it hurt... damn idiot...

And somebody knocked at the door and stuck his head in. Right him.

'You are supposed to wait for my permission before coming in,' mumbled Vira, grabbing a comb and starting to take care of his long mane. 'Imagine you catch me naked: you'd have wet dreams for weeks. What do you want?'

'The clothes you use to wear aren't much better than walking around stark naked... How could I know you were shy?' The elf entered the bathroom and closes the door behind. The Silvan raised an eyebrow. 'Listen: I was wondering if... well...'

'Get to the point before I catch a cold.'

'I was wondering... I'm not allowed to go to the forest... where Caradhar is...' Sül swallowed, 'without being invited. But you could... you could go back and check how things are. You might bring some news while I stay and take care of Dainhaya... and she takes care of me.'

'Vira stopped suddenly. Somehow that request, on the other hand quite reasonable, irritated him.

'Really, Sül? And if I find him getting off with some female under the trees, will you want me to tell you as well?' The Shadow turned pale. 'If he's so at ease that the thought of coming back doesn't cross his mind, will you be interested in knowing?'

'I... I only want to know if he's fine... just that...'

'Why? Do you see him making efforts to get to know how you are? Such a selfless love...'

Sül clenched his fists and turned around to leave the place. The Silvan rushed towards him and flanked him with his long arms, preventing him from opening the door.

'Wait. All right: I'll do it. I assure you I am your only chance, since Dainhaya would never leave you to do it. But you will have to give me something in return.'

'...What do you want...?'

'You, Sül.' Vira leaned over him. 'A night with you, and I give you my word I won't bother you any more. It isn't much, if you think about it. Nothing he hasn't done himself enough times..,'

The dark-haired elf grimaced with anger. He felt the intense desire of beating his companion up and leave him unconscious... Instead he violently pulled the door and strode away. As for Vira, he leaned against the wall, his lips curved into a cynical smile.

Two nights later Sül entered his room without knocking. The tall elf was about to make a caustic remark but he changed his mind when he saw the newcomer's expression. He simply looked at him with suspicious eyes.

The Shadow seemed unable to push himself to talk. He licked his lips, opened and closed his fists, fidgeted, uneasy... Suddenly Vira opened his eyes wide, because the whole elf's body was shouting...

'A night, you said?' asked the younger elf finally, with tremulous voice. 'And then you'll go back to the forest and bring news? I'm... I'm cool with it... you're right, fuck... What... what the hell's a night? Nothing... doesn't mean a thing...'

Sül turned his back on the Silvan and let his shirt slip along his arms, throwing it to the floor. It couldn't be so difficult... Vira was right: Caradhar had done it many times, without feeling anything whatsoever... why couldn't he do it as well? Moreover he was certain the redhead wouldn't mind if he ever heard about it... Probably he wouldn't mind even if he got laid with a half of the Ditch...

It couldn't be so difficult... Those scars on his back had been surely worse and he had survived. Caradhar's departure had been worse and he wasn't dead yet... Just one night and he could get some news from him... He started to untie his trousers...

Vira's arms surrounded his sides: his hands grabbed his wrists, stopping them; he noticed his breath on his neck.

'I don't know what kind of animal you think I am, Sül,' he whispered with the most miserable voice the Shadow had ever heard.

Vira released him and left without a glance.

***

Again in that bedroom up the tree... Caradhar was starting to wonder if what they were doing was useful at all. He hadn't run into Mirtuillë again; most probably she'd be annoyed with the turn of events... And with regard to Lioges, things were tense between them. They didn't avoid each other or anything of the like, because the Silvan still wove the shield for him, but his gaze wasn't as serene and open as it used to be before...

'Good morning, Caradhar.' The healer crossed the door, with his discreet smile, and walked towards him. 'It's earlier than usual, but I guess' he paused, 'the sooner we start the sooner we'll be done.'

Lioges stood besides the folding screen. The gifted was already removing his robe and sliding his hand inside his trousers when a sudden thought seized him. He looked up at his companion's figure.

'You aren't Lioges,' he said.

The healer fixed his surprised eyes on him and half-closed them. Right then the door was opened again... and Lioges entered one more time. Both healers stared at each other until the first one snickered.

'Vira...' said the second one.

The fake Lioges recovered his real shape as Caradhar remembered it; much to his amazement, the change was automatic, so fast he couldn't even follow it: no trace of those black lines that slowed down the process as he had seen it before... Vira crossed his arms and smiled cynically.

'Such a shame... I was cherishing the idea of watching the show in the front row and, with a bit of luck, placing my hand on...'

'Vira!'

There was real anger in his brother's voice, and the tall elf shut up. The redhead couldn't help but comparing both Silvans now that he was able to see them together. Physically they shared that face so similar; as for their characters... the first time he had met the healer he had been amazed at how different they seemed to be. Now... it was strange, but he had the feeling they had more things in common than anyone would expect.

'Caradhar...' continued Lioges, 'our guide Tirsseil, Savhran's wife, is back from her travel and wishes to see you. You should... get dressed and go to meet her.'

The gifted left, leaving both brothers in the bedroom. Vira faced Lioges.

'It seems the time he spent here sharpened the boy's perception: it should have been impossible for him to recognise me...'

'Why did you come back now, leaving Dainhaya alone? As soon as Father finds out...'

'She isn't alone and you know it. And I'm back because I need news. And there are news indeed... Mirtuillë is furious: she told me it was your idea to treat her like cattle so that you didn't have to share your adored gifted with...'

'I'm not in the mood to talk about that, Vira. I have a lot in my mind now that our guide is back.'

Without more ado the healer followed Caradhar's steps. His brother remained there, stroking his lower lip. He couldn't have arrived more opportunely.

Tirsseil, the other guide of the community of Dervharn, was a beautiful female elf. Her youngest daughter no doubt took after her and they both shared the double mark of magic. The main difference between them was the inscrutability of the guide's visage. Such a composure was a must for her, as she needed to keep her guard up in every moment to control the flow of all those thoughts. She was one of the most powerful telepaths of the Ancient Race and a healer as well; but unlike Lioges she was able to heal the invisible illnesses that affected minds... Very few were the elves in possession of a talent like that, and other clans used to request her presence, yet as soon as she returned and knew of the arrival of that young elf with mixed blood, thanks to his relatives' hard efforts, she didn't even think of taking some rest: she requested knowing him as soon as possible.

Caradhar met her in one of the most isolated houses of the community, away from the other trees, without the usual connection of footbridges. And once he was there she pointed at a cushion on the floor, sat down besides him and asked everybody to leave them alone, to get away from the house and its surroundings. She didn't offer him refreshments, didn't ask questions, didn't make comments. Nothing that could serve to distract them.

She had to make sure there was nobody around because she was going to remove the wall that isolated her mind from the others and penetrate unreservedly into the young elf's mind, of which she had been able to catch just a shy glimpse. Only when she was certain nothing would interfere between them... she entered him.

Those words weren't very appropriate: more precisely, she wrapped her mind around him; she made it spill around him as Lioges had done in the caverns. But the contrast was as extreme as the difference between feeling firmly covered by a tight armour and walking comfortably across the rooms of a castle that didn't allow any access from the outside. He could perceive no bond between them, and his mind was free for the first time since he had arrived to Dervharn: no buzzing, no sound disturbed him, no contact, no matter how kind it could be, with other person's thoughts, Lioges'. Only himself inside his own head, and silence. He had forgotten that sensation.

And yet nothing was further from the truth. She was quietly there, watching that almost monochromatic world, the desert landscape that was beyond the door of his feelings. As it had happened to Dainhaya the vision hurt her, but she took good care of preventing her emotions from confusing that boy who shared her blood and had inside his veins the talent of the Ancient Race and the Gift of the outer elves. So many blessings, so many promises... and the gods had decided to punish him in that way.

She didn't need to search through his memories. She knew what she was going to find and spying on his privacy wouldn't do any good to them. Instead she had to go deep inside the thousand twists of his brain, inside those subtle connections that linked it to the outside world, inside the way he had of perceiving things, the way he had of not feeling them... It was like a musical instrument with countless keys, and she'd have to test them all to check which were out of tune...

She pressed a random one; to do so she finally decided to introduce herself to her guest.

'I'm so happy to meet you, Caradhar, more than you imagine,' said Tirsseil, and the gifted was unable to tell if she used her lips to talk or did it right to his head. 'My husband told me you possess a great talent. I can see that, but there's something that won't let it out. Do you know why?'

'No... I couldn't even say I know what's that talent everybody speaks about... But the truth is that since I am here I've experienced... things I never felt before...'

'Talk to me about them. Don't feel ashamed,Caradhar. Your words would never push me to judge you unfavourably, the will only help me to help you. I know you want it, you need it. I know how hard it must be because I can see inside of you. Do you trust me to help you?'

'No.' The gifted couldn't perceive it, but that answer had revealed a dissonance when she pressed one of the keys. 'I don't know you, I don't know if you can keep your word. So far nobody ever gave me reasons to believe it. Why should it be different now?'

'You are sincere. Then I won't make promises you have no way to know if I can keep. We'll simply talk until you grow tired of it, do you agree?'

'I guess so, though I can't see how...'

'Talk to me about your mother, Caradhar.' The question took him by surprise. 'What are your feelings for her?'

'I don't know. For a long time I thought I should hate her, but I could never bring myself to do it. Just once or twice...' Another key sounded out of tune. 'But that was soon over. We don't see each other much, and it's better that way. What she wants from me I can't give it to her, and she knows it.'

'Do you feel the same for your son?'

'No... I don't know what I should feel. How could I see him as my son? His company doesn't displease me. I miss him.' One more key. 'He isn't demanding as he was before; with him I am... at peace...'

'And for your father?'

'He meant nothing to me.' The elf's mood darkened. 'He had to die, or else he'd have been the one who...'

'And yet before he closed his eyes you whispered something to his ear, something that helped him to depart in peace. Why did you do it, if he meant nothing to you?'

'Because I thought he would have liked it... I... I don't know.'

Caradhar lost the will of talking about that subject. He wasn't even aware that he had broken up the harmony again, and it wasn't even meant for Neharall. There were many things he ignored, but she could see beyond.

The conversation continued for hours. Many times they didn't even move their lips. Such an interrogation would have exhausted him in minutes, but she had him talking the whole day... maybe because his mind was letting him rest for the first time in ages and he felt relieved. Maybe because each sentence, each fragment of conversation, was releasing him from some small burden that had been always oppressing him, since he'd never never shared it with anyone. Why was he doing it with that stranger?

At dusk she let him sleep. He rested peacefully, no dreams disturbing him. But she witnessed the images that haunted his head while she was watching over him. And they revealed her where she had to seek.

'What do you think about my daughter, Caradhar?' she asked the next morning, once they resumed their talk.

'Mirtuillë... she's beautiful, she possesses talent... talents. But she's too young to be part of this.'

'She isn't much younger than you... but is that the reason why you couldn't be with her?'

'I don't think it's good for her to get involved with someone like me...'

'And nothing else?'

'I don't feel... that kind of attraction.'

'But in the past that didn't stop you from getting involved with other people. Why can't you do it now, Caradhar?'

'... Because he'd have felt...'

The gifted shut up. He didn't know what to say. And a dissonance sounded.

'When was the last time you smiled?' was the guide's apparently sudden change of subject. He raised his eyebrows.

'I remember... I remember the day I left Argailias. I remember he didn't move his face away when I kissed him, as he had been doing lately. I remember I liked it.'

'And when was the last time you cried?'

'That same day when I departed... No, that isn't true,' the young elf frowned, 'that wasn't me. I can't remember the last time I shed a tear. It was him...'

'You have been dreaming these days, haven't you? For the first time in your life.'

Caradhar stared at her in silence. He knew she could read those dreams in him. He saw no need to answer.

'One of them keeps recurring. Do you remember it?'

'Yes.'

'Will you want to tell me? Not the images, but the feelings you get from them.'

The redhead meditated for some instants. It was so strange he couldn't understand himself.

'He holds me. His face is buried in my neck, my mane. He's breathing in; I know it because I hear the sound of air softly going in through his nostrils. It's a relaxing sound, for every time he does it he holds me even tighter. He likes my scent; he has told me so many times... that I'd wish I could say the same. But I can't... I can't perceive anything. The brushing of the tip of his nose against my skin makes me shiver, but when I do the same I can't get... I notice his heat, the beating of his blood being pumped under his skin, the tickling of his hair... and I hold him, wanting more... I hold him so tight I hurt him... but he's always out of my reach... I am unable to feel what he feels...'

The female had been waiting for a strong dissonance that would eclipse all the rest... but she didn't get to hear anything. Silence. Tirsseil followed the vibrations in the air and searched for the source, the key that had no string attached to hammer and had always remained gagged; the note whose silence roared like thunder in the middle of the other sounds.

And when she found it her healing magic was poured like a refreshing elixir over that hidden corner of his brain. Her talent wove a string, a thin, subtle string, young and still tender, fragile... but that would be enough to connect the part of him which feelings depended on with the outside, and to allow magic to flow freely. It would be up to the boy to make it stronger, but Tirsseil had no doubts. He had missed it so much during all those years... that he'd be unable to live without it.

She reproached the gods for cursing him with a life of emptiness; she praised them for bestowing her with the talent to repair it...

She smiled for the first time, and the wall around her rose again. Caradhar found himself immerse in silence.

He didn't notice any difference at first. There was warmth in the air, and the singing of the birds outside; threads of light entered through the gaps of the windows... everything was calm.

No... there was... something else... Something he was unable to identify... a sweet sensation, same as when he let honey slipping along his tongue... but... there was no honey, just air through his nostrils, and the sensation was one thousand times stronger, more delicate, and much more complex...

Suddenly a new warm sensation stroke him, this time straight to his head. It wasn't completely pleasant because the heat increased until it became too intense, but he was certain it meant no harm. In fact it was right the opposite... The door opened and Lioges appeared through it. He was anxious, after more than twenty-four hours of waiting. His eyes rested on Caradhar with a sigh of relief, and the gifted looked at him in turn.

'Lioges, can you take care of him?' asked the guide, standing up. 'I must go to get some rest. It's better if you stay here, as it's too early for him to go out to all those minds. I'll see you soon, Caradhar.'

She smiled again and touched him for the first time, placing the palm of her hand over his heart. Then she headed towards the door, and as she walked past the healer she mumbled:

'Shield your mind, Lioges. I know it's hard, but you'll hurt him otherwise. I am so sorry...'

She didn't explain why she was sorry. They were left alone, and the gifted stood up as well, approaching the wine-eyed elf. He looked at him in bewilderment, as if he were seeing him for the very first time, and without prior warning he sunk his nose inside the long locks hanging down his neck and breathed in. Not once, but several times; with delectation, as one inhales a fragrant and delicate perfume... Caradhar closed his eyes, but Lioges opened his wide.

The youngest elf's nose walked along the skin of his neck, under his ear, over the hollow of his collarbone. It became bolder and went deep inside toward the nape of his neck, where the sensation turned more intense, and remained there, breathing intensely, slight sounds of pleasure escaping from his lips.

That was more than the healer could stand. He surrounded his partner's waist with his arms and drew him towards himself, sliding the palms of his hands along his back. Caradhar stared at him, frowning; he saw him leaning down little by little, in search of his mouth; he experienced again that newly discovered sensation, that sweetness emanating from his breath; he saw the craving for a kiss in his mind even before their lips touched... The redhead raised his hand and covered them gently, preventing him from continuing, and Lioges' deception pierced him from side to side... The embrace became even more intense, still unable to give up, but Caradhar's attention wasn't there any more.

He was meditating why his body would reject that elf. He was undoubtedly attractive, intelligent and talented, and had devoted his life to the same thing. They had so much in common; their minds connected: he had been like a balm among the painful chaos his one had turned into. He... that something coming from his body was pleasant, and warm, and made him want more, go down and inhale inside his clothes, from every corner. And that something coming from his mind...

And suddenly he knew why, why that embrace wasn't right, why it wasn't what he needed. A very thin thread seemed to vibrate inside of him and brought him memories, sensations, feelings... A pair of dark eyes, jet black hair, the most wonderful back he had ever touched... Lioges' mind yelled, but through that thread something whispered to his ears, and it was much stronger.

And then...

He remembered the first time he had hurt him. He hadn't been able to understand why he had showed that tormented look in his deep dark eyes, after he had been back with that female elf's pleasure still moistening his skin. But the look haunted him again the next occasion in which he did it, and the next one, even if he was trying to hide it. It reflected his pain much more intensely than the day he had been about to die due to the Darshi'nai poison...

He remembered the day he had told him he loved him, the way he had covered his face not to show his deception at the silence that had followed his words. It hadn't been that time only: all and every time he had proved his devotion one way or another he had waited for an answer, even if a whisper, a small sign that he was feeling the same, that he wasn't just another lover.

He remembered, finally, his deception when he confessed him in the coldest possible way that he had slept with that elf... How could he have ignored that pain? How could he? But he did, and that pushed him to do things he would regret later, increasing his affliction even more... Caradhar had to close his eyes because the knot that was growing inside his stomach was getting harder and harder to bear...

His mind refused to recall that day he had decided to leave Argailias. It was a self-defence mechanism: it reasonably feared what it might make him feel... yet Caradhar forced himself to do it.

The most heart-rending suffering when he thought he had lost the only thing he had... the only thing that gave him a reason to live... The fear of not seeing him again, of what future could bring... a future without him... Loneliness, even before Caradhar had crossed the door... And what was more, vibrating through the thin thread that linked them: his desire to die...

He noticed the dampness across his face. What was that? Tears... But he hadn't truly shed them since he was a kid... He had forgotten the burning feeling in his eyes despite the overflowing water; the salt tickling his skin; the small pull when they reached the edge of his face and plunged into the void, and a new tear would take over from the previous one and tremble, before following it... And the pain...

That pain in his chest, was it normal? The feeling he was lacking of air, as if a huge burden were squeezing his chest and narrowing his lungs so much that he had to breath in five, ten, twenty times more not to choke... The anguished lament of his sobs...

'Caradhar! Caradhar! What's wrong? Please, calm down... please... what's happening? Venerable goddess, what can I do to help you? Caradhar!'

Lioges' voice, oozing concern... But he could barely hear it, it was like an echo coming from very far away...

***

Sül was sitting besides Dainhaya. She was reading a book, he was looking outside the window. Peacefully. As calmed as he could be, trying to overcome the anxiety of getting some news.

A tear flew from his eye for no apparent reason. He wiped it with his fingers, but soon another one took its place, and another, and yet another one. He had to use the palms of his hands to contain that inexplicable rain of tears, but nothing seemed to be enough... The female raised her eyes from the book and fixed them on him, alarmed.

'Sül? Do you feel sick?'

'I... I don't know... They started to flood and I can't... can't stop them...'

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