~The Elven-names~ Mists of Confusion

I was sitting on the my bed, hugging my knees, and looking out the window when Weneithel came to summon me to breakfast. A thick, soupy, grey mist swirled through the trees both outside and inside the Forest Palace.

"It's foggy," I stated as Wen came in. "I've always liked foggy days, but this seems sinister, somehow. Anyone out in it must surely be lost."

Raising her eyebrows, Weneithel smiled slightly. "Ah, but the sun will pierce the mist and reveal the way to the one who is lost." I had the surreal sense that we weren't talking about the weather at all. Wen continued, "And perhaps the mist will clear sooner than the wanderer thinks." She smiled.

I turned back to the window. The fog didn't seem to be clearing any. "Weneithel," I asked without turning my head, "what did my dad do?"

There was a long silence from behind me. I turned my head to see why. On Wen's face I could see the some disapproval and smoldering anger that I had noticed when Dad went down the shooting field. Finally she pressed her lips together and spoke carefully, with deliberate evenness.

"Your father became very bitter after your mother's death. He believed she would not have died if she had not been so involved with the elven-named. So he renounced all connections with  our people and vowed he would never have anything to do with us again. In carrying this out, he made some poor choices that affected us all." She paused and studied me gravely. "But it is not mine to tell you what those choices were. That is for your father or the Keeper of the Legacy to reveal." The look on her face made it clear the conversation was over. "It is time for breakfast, my lady."

I was bending down to put on my sandals when what she had called me hit me. I looked up at her, astonished. "My lady? I'm not a lady. I'm just a kid."

Wen smiled strangely. "Mirluin, you are quickly growing into your role as Keeper of the Lore, and as such, you are our Lady. When you first came here you were not as discerning and did not see the tension. But you are learning to read thoughts. You are becoming truly the Keeper of the Lore."

I didn't know what to say. I had to think about this. It was still hard to believe that I was the Keeper of the Lore, and now it seemed that I must get used to deference on the part of the Elven-named. But it would be different at school. I sighed.

"It's not going to be much fun to go to school today."

Wen smiled and shook her head. "You must have lost track of time, Mirluin. It's Saturday today."

"Oh," I stated dumbly. Deciding it would be best not to say anything further, I followed Wen down the hall to the dining chamber.

 

 

*   *   *

 

On Saturday I didn't have to practice with the bow, and I didn't want to go outside in the mist, so I just wandered around inside the Forest Palace. It had a completely different feel with the fog swirling through the corridors and creating ghostly shapes in the hallways. It was a delightful, shivery feel, like I was in a mystery. But I knew that if I went outside it would feel so much more terrifying and horrible.

 

I came to one of the windows and looked out. I couldn't see much, but I closed my eyes and breathed in the forest smell, which was so much more distinct in the moisture. Suddenly I heard a step near me, and I looked behind me with a start--straight into the eyes of the Keeper of the Legacy.

 

"Oh, you startled me!" I exclaimed. "I-I hope I'm not bothering you--"

 

The Keeper gave a kind smile. "No, my child, you are not bothering me." He stood next to me, looking out the window also.

 

"It's so foggy, but it's still so glorious at the same time," he mused after a short silence. "But it is a strange and dark mist. It bodes no good for the Elven-named."

 

I looked up at him. "You think it isn't just an ordinary fog?"

 

He looked down thoughtfully. "I do not know. I did not think that the Mormir had power over the weather. But this fog is giving them a chance to rally their forces around Middlecester, while we cannot stop them." He sighed.

 

As I looked up at him, I realized that something was weighing heavily on his mind. All of a sudden I remembered what he had said--a long time ago, it seemed. He had said something about having no heir, because the one he had chosen had rejected his calling.

 

I finally decided to ask him about it. "Keeper, you know how you told me you had no successor because the one you chose rejected his calling?" I waited until he nodded, then plunged on before I lost my courage. "How come you didn't appoint another successor?"

 

The Keeper smiled sadly. "There are few Eldarhin men in Middlecester left. I did not know of one who would be a good Keeper of the Legacy."

 

I frowned thoughtfully. "Isn't Thoron one of the Eldarhin?"

 

The Keeper tilted his head slightly. "Yes, but he is not old enough. Fourteen is the age of responsibility with the Elven-named. That is why you were not informed of your calling until just lately. You were not old enough."

 

I nodded. "I see. And there isn't anyone else?"

 

Gravely the Keeper shook his head. "No. There are only two other Eldar-hin men besides your brother in Middlecester."

 

I sighed, crestfallen. Now I could see why the Elven-named needed help so badly.

 

Miss the first parts of the story? Read it all Here.