Her eyes stayed on him as he walked away until she got hold of herself. She did not understand why she had reacted that way to him. And she chided herself for it.
You behaved like a child, she berated herself.
Siem sat, angry at herself for the things Mikko was making her feel and do. It did not take long after Mikko and Siem’s mild altercation for Fraweyni to grace the table. She sat in the middle of the head table, Meko by her right, Kochob by her left, then Siem and Eldana after Kochob – in that order – and Hermon, D’rmas and Mikko after Meko.
The elves sang a short song, a kind of prelude to the feast proper, and then the eating began.
“Humans do this before eating,” Fraweyni said to the hearing of everyone at the table. “Pray to the gods.” She put a slice of meat into her mouth and chewed.
Her movements were light and swift; her chewing gentle.
“That was a prayer?” Hermon asked.
“Yes,” Fraweyni replied. “But not a prayer to the gods, no. A prayer to nature. The elves are also, as most of your books must have told you, creatures of the song of nature. In that short song, we thanked nature for allowing us uninhibited access to its gifts. And wished that our access continued.”
“Just that?” Mikko asked.
Meko looked at him.
“Forgive me.” He said. “But the song sounded like it said more than what you just said.”
A burst of small laughter broke across the table, with the exceptions of Meko, and Siem – who felt her heart lurch at the sound of Mikko’s voice.
“Well, the language is elven, Mikko.” Fraweyni replied. “And interpreting elven language word for word into your language is just not possible.”
“Oh,” Mikko said and went back to his plate.
As they ate, a small company of female elves walked into the center of the clearing. Gradually, music from flutes began to grow, until they were clear and sonorous.
The female elves at the center began to dance, making gracious movements with their arms and feet. The spectacle arrested the interest of everyone in the clearing. There were moments, when the flutes sang slowly, infusing the atmosphere with calm, and an attitude of veneration, and then the melody picked again, going faster, lightening the atmosphere, and returning the mood of feasting.
“What is it with the performance?” Siem asked.
“It is a story. Something like what the humans call an epic. Only in our case, it is a tragedy.”
Siem looked out in puzzlement. The voice that had just replied to her did not belong to Fraweyni. Eldana shared the puzzlement and looked to where the voice had come from.
They met Meko’s eyes.
“Did you say something? Eldana asked.
“The dance,” she said. “It is a story about us. A sad story.”
Finally, Siem thought, she speaks. “What does it say?” Siem asked of the recalcitrant elf.
Meko swallowed the bit of meat that she had been chewing. Her movements were gentle. Just like Fraweyni’s.
“It tells of the emergence of the First, the spread of the elven race, our survival of chaos, and the injustice we have met in the hands of the new races, in that order.”
For a while, the clink of knives on plates were the only sounds that indicated life at the table. The dance was concluded, and the dancers moved back to their tables with applause from the other tables.
“Finally,” Mikko told D’rmas under the sound of the applause. “I have never heard or seen something so depressing.”
D’rmas grunted and nodded his affirmation.
Half-way into the meal, Fraweyni raised a hand for silence. When the entire place had grown quiet, she lifted her goblet of wine.
“This is to our suspects-turned-guests.” She said. “Mikko, D’rmas, Hermon, Siem, and Eldana. We speak our blessings to their endeavour and pray that it is achievable.”
She rose the goblet higher, and many other goblets went into the air.
“There is an extra bit of news,” Fraweyni said, as she dropped her goblet back to the table. “Our guests are going to be staying with us a little longer, before continuing the journey we interrupted.”
Whispers broke across the tables. The elves were in doubt of the decision Fraweyni was presenting them. Fraweyni was well aware of their objections and reservations, and so let the whispers go on for a while longer. Then she lifted her hand into the air and asked for quiet.
“I know, and understand my children, your grievances.” Her voice was soft, comforting, like a mother’s.
Siem watched the exchange and developed a newfound respect for Fraweyni. There was something to admire in the way that she led the elves. There was no doubting the love that churned inside her.
“I have lost a father, a mother, a husband, and very recently, a son. I feel the same loss you feel for your departed brethren. What is worse, I feel twice the sense of loss you all feel, because I carry both your burden and mine. We had decided, a long time ago, shortly after the purge, never to involve ourselves in the affairs of Toas. We went into reclusion, using our abilities to shapeshift to hide us. However, we were discovered, and we lost more as a result of that. What does this say? That whether we are involved or not, chaos still finds us. Now, while I do not doubt that we can hold our own in here, I am not throwing away the possibility that chaos will find us here. I have lost enough of my children. I am not ready to lose any more. Not even one. These people,” she gestured towards Eldana and her friends, “are trying to restore peace into the world. That way we can live peacefully. This is not a path that was chosen for them, but a burden that they have chosen for themselves. We must have a hand, this time, even though inconspicuously.”
Eldana watched the elves sitting at the tables. She saw
