The healers at the infirmary carried three extra chairs into Suds’ spacious room, then left the assembled group in peace.
King Tunmim was the first to sit, followed by Shalheira and her husband, Halafarin. The two remaining chairs stayed empty as Bhrán moved to Suds and took the ailing Elf’s hand. A few seconds later, Meibhín joined him.
The boy glared at the two Elves, erect and motionless in their seats. They looked like statues, void of emotions, or life for that matter.
“Why do you want to help Suds all of a sudden?” Bhrán blurted. “After so many centuries of exile, why give a damn about him now?”
Halafarin looked to his wife, and she serenely nodded for him to speak.
“We never exiled Sudryal Larfir. Suds, as you know him by, is one of our greatest scholars, spellbinders, and warriors, so we sent him on a mission to watch for your arrival. Of course, an Elf wandering the lands of Men would draw suspicion, so Suds came up with the exile idea. I must say, his plan worked a charm.”
“Watch out for me?” Bhrán said as he looked back at the unconscious Elf.
“Not you, precisely,” Shalheira said as she rose to her feet and approached Suds’ bed. “Rather, he was watching out for the arrival of the Opener of Doors. Which, we now know to be you.”
The beautiful Elven woman placed a slender hand on Suds’ forehead and began murmuring something in her own tongue.
A dim light began to glow around her hand, and Suds’ skin filled with color. As life seemed to reenter the bedridden Elf, Shalheira’s incantations grew louder.
Halafarin jumped to his feet and dashed to his wife’s side. His hand then joined hers, and he added his voice to the Elven chant.
Suds’ body went rigid, and he almost crushed Bhrán’s hand as his grip tightened on the boy. The stricken Elf then gasped, and both Shalheira and Halafarin fell back.
“Suds?” Bhrán asked as he reached out to stroke the Elf’s face. It was now warm and full of color.
“Did it work?” Suds whispered as his eye flickered open.
“Did what work?” Bhrán asked.
Suds turned his head so he could see the boy, and his face filled with love and happiness. “Bhrán, it’s good to see you.”
The boy’s eyes filled with tears, and he hugged the Elf like a long-lost loved one. “I was so worried, Suds. I thought I’d lost you.”
The Elf patted the boy’s back, and his eye moved to Meibhín. He smiled at her, and she returned the smile, though her eyes gleamed with tears.
“Is your father and family with you?” Suds asked as he continued to hug the sobbing boy.
Meibhín just nodded.
“Then we got everyone out of the Landing?”
“Aye,” Meibhín said, her voice full of emotion. “Thanks to you, not a single soul was left behind.”
Suds smiled and eased Bhrán out of the hug. “Young Master, wipe your eyes, for your plan was a success.”
“But you nearly died.”
“Tosh,” the Elf replied. “I was just sleeping.”
Drained from the efforts of waking Suds, Shalheira and Halafarin returned to their seats.
“Suds must return with us to our realm so he can fully recuperate,” Shalheira said as she straightened a crease in her lengthy, flowing gown.
“We have awoken him from his slumber,” Halafarin added, “but he will soon return to his sleeping state.”
“Only the waters of the Tranquil River can wash away the last of Suds’ fatigue,” Shalheira continued.
Suds yawned. “The fair lady is right.”
“We have an honor guard waiting to carry him home.” Halafarin gestured to the window as he spoke.
Bhrán looked outside and saw twenty tall Elves in green armor patiently stood at attention beside the infirmary.
“You must come with us, too, Bhrán,” Shalheira said as she rose again and moved to the boy’s side. “The fate of Yedinerth rests on your shoulders, but you still have much to learn.”
The boy looked at his cousin. “What about my family? Can they come?”
Shalheira smiled kindly at him and placed her slender hand on his cheek. “Our realm is not suited to the race of Men. Time is different there, and not all would survive its touch. You, Bhrán, are the Opener of Doors. You will be the first of the race of Men to enter our domain since we created its protective veil.”
The boy looked back at Suds and saw the Elf’s eye was already closing. He then looked back at Shalheira. “You say time is different there. How so?”
“Elves are untouched by time, so the magic that hides our realm harms us not. Mortal flesh is... more easily changed. A month in our realm is like a year in the lands of mortals. You will age at our realm’s slower rate, but the moment you leave our lands, your body will catch up with its natural aging.”
“I’m not really sure what you mean?” Bhrán said, confused by her words.
Halafarin joined his wife. “If you reside in our realm for one year, you will only age by that year. Once you pass our borders, those twelve months become years, and your body will age that much in a matter of seconds. The process would kill mere Men, but you are the Opener of Doors.”
“So I’d survive the rapid aging?”
“We believe so, yes,” Shalheira said with a slow nod.
King Tunmim spoke for the first time since entering the infirmary. “Belief is not the same as knowing so.” He then looked at Bhrán. “Young Master, the Elves are trustworthy, but are you willing to risk your life on their words alone?”
“Do you believe what they can teach me would help in the coming conflict?”
Tunmim looked at the two tall Elves, then sighed. “Yes, I think they could teach you much.”
“Then I must go with Suds.”
Meibhín took his arm. “Bhrán, you should not make a decision like this alone. Talk to my Da about it first.”
Bhrán shook his head. “No, Meibhín. This is the right thing to do.” He then looked to the Elves. “How long would my training take?”
The Elves looked at each other, then back at the boy.
“Anywhere from six months to a year,” Shalheira said.
“A year!” Meibhín blurted. “If I understood you before, that means Bhrán will be gone for up to twelve years!”
Halafarin nodded. “Your understanding is right.”
“But the Evil Ones are killing my people now,” Bhrán added. “In twelve years, there may be no one left to help.”
King Tunmim tugged at his beard in thought, then said, “The Evil Ones have tried to conquer Yedinerth for thousands of years. I do not believe they will achieve their goals in the next twelve. Yet I know that is of small comfort to you. Therefore, while you are gone, I pledge my people to helping yours. We will bring as many of your race to my kingdom as we can. That way, we ensure the race of Men endures.”
Meibhín grabbed Bhrán and pulled him into a tight hug. “Don’t go. I’ll miss you too much.”
The boy wanted to stay in her embrace forever, but he pulled free. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”
Meibhín’s eyes filled with tears, and she ran from the room.
“If we are to leave, then the time is now,” Shalheira said as she raised the hood of her cloak over her head. Halafarin did the same.
Bhrán looked back at Suds and saw the Elf had already slipped back into unconsciousness.
“Very well,” Bhrán said with a nod.
King Tunmim pulled the boy into a hug and said, “Your parents would be proud of you, as am I. Go with speed and the love of the Dwarves.”
“Thank you,” Bhrán replied, his words full of emotion.
From seemingly nowhere, Thravoul appeared holding the boy’s sword, Wolf Fang.
“You mustn’t leave without this,” he said as he handed the blade to Bhrán.
“Thank you,” the boy said as he took the sword and strapped it to his side.
Halafarin approached the bed and gently lifted Suds from it. The group then followed him from the infirmary, where the Elven high lord handed the unconscious Elf over to the waiting guards.
The guards set Suds upon a stretcher made of the finest green material Bhrán had ever seen, then four of them shouldered the framework of wood and silk and awaited the command to move out.
Bhrán looked back at King Tunmim and Thravoul. The kindly Dwarves smiled and nodded.
The boy felt empty inside. His parents were dead, Suds was still far from well, and he was about to walk away from his remaining family. He was unsure if he was doing the right thing, but at least he was doing something.
For too long, the Evil Ones had dictated the terms of war. And for too long, the race of Men had thrown themselves blindly to their deaths. If there was even the slightest chance the Elves could teach him something new, then he had to take it.
Shalheira ushered the vanguard of Elves forward, and Bhrán followed with his head hung.
“Wait!” a deep voice yelled from behind them. Bhrán turned to see his uncle, aunt, and both his cousins running his way.
A few seconds later, his only remaining close family came to a stop beside him.
“I can’t believe you were going to leave without saying goodbye,” his aunt said as she pulled him into a tight embrace.
She then released him, and his uncle did the same. “You’re a brave boy, Bhrán. You are a true Wolf Blood, just like your Da. Go with our love and blessings.”
Bhrán began to cry but made no effort to hold his tears in. when his uncle released him, his gaze fell on Meibhín. Her brother, Fionnbharr, had his arm around her as she wept.
Bhrán wanted more than anything to go over and kiss her, then hold her until her tears subsided. But he could not do that because he knew he would never let go. Instead, he cuffed his eyes, nodded to her, and turned back to the convoy of Elves.
Wordlessly, the procession moved out.
Dwarves and humans alike now lined the road down which they walked. All were utterly silent as they reverently watched on. Finally, the procession passed from sight, and everyone returned to the daily chores.
Well, not quite everyone. Meibhín stood alone, staring off in the direction Bhrán had just disappeared. Her heart ached, but she knew she would see him again... one day.