There was not much to do while in prison. Elyar had never been confined before in any real way. He was quickly realizing he did not like it. Having nothing to do, except wander through his thoughts and deal with his aching body, was not a fun way to pass the time.
Within the first few hours Elyar studied the stonework right above his cot. In the gloom it was hard to tell where one slab ended and the next began. It was the same grey coloring as most of the stone throughout the city. He kept tracing different colored veins as they wandered over the stone. One would fade into another which would in turn fade into a third.
It was impossible to tell how much time passed. No light came into the cell from outside except for a tiny sliver that shone from a small window high above him. He could tell if it was day or night. But not much else.
His thoughts kept replaying that battle over and over again. The two things it kept snagging on where when he blasted the enemy with his weapon, and when Lyrandionus killed Kristiana. Personal victory to his worst defeat. He replayed it over and over again while his eyes circled around and around on the stone.
Yanking himself up from the bed Elyar tried to stand up. Pain bloomed across his back, but it was almost tolerable. He weakly walked over to the wall across from the bed. It was only a few paces away making it a very short walk. Slowly, he rests his head against the cool stone. The heat from his body saps into the stone. His panting slowly decreases. The pounding of his heart dies away. His internal storm calms to meet the silence of his captivity.
What am I going to do? I can’t stay here…or can I? If the punishment for wild weaving is death than I am in the same boat either way. Be executed here in the home I just protected. He scoffed at that thought. Or try to escape and probably die fighting the Raven King. Either way I am a dead man. But…If I am to die, how do I want to die?
With that thought Elyar raised his head from the stone. I will not die known as a traitor to this empire. I will die by the sword of the Raven. At least that will be a tale worthy of the great hall of my father. Determined to escape and find the Raven King, Elyar began looking around. It was one thing to decide to escape, it was an entirely different thing to actually do it. Unfortunately, his options were limited. There was a cot with straw, a bucket for…unpleasant things, and the steel door. Not much to work with.
He did not have his sword or any tools to work with. Only his hands, one of them being severely damaged, and his wits, which were not in the best state at the moment.
Feeling exhausted from the last few days Elyar allowed himself to return to his bed. He closed his eyes and easily drifted to sleep. At first his dreams followed a memory as a child. He was playing out near the Great Hall with his brothers. Andru was chasing him, Patricia, and (insert last sister here) through the meadow while Pitre and Yonn watched. Everyone was smilling and happy. The sun was warm, the breeze cool, and the grass tall.
Andru was right behind Elyar and gaining fast. Elyar tended to lose these kinds of games. He was the youngest after all. But it never bothered him. They were playing. Why did it matter if he was chassing or being chassed? All that mattered was that he was with his siblings.
His brother’s hand finally pushed into him as Andru tagged him. Elyar tumbled down a few feet of the hill giggling. First, Andru fell over him gleefully screaming. Next his sisters were on top of him. They were all laughing together. Elyar could not stop laughing. Especially when his siblings started tickling him.
“Alright, that is enough.” A gentle voice called to them. It took a minute, but eventually Elyar was no longer buried. Straightening his clothes and brushing out the grass in his hair, Elyar stood up. There, standing near Yon and Pitre, was Pyke.
A smile spread over Elyar’s face. Dashing across the field he threw his arms around the old man, buring his face into his soft clothes. A hand brushed his hair while his voice softly spoke, “hello Elyar. I have missed you.”
Elyar looked up. He had to squint for a minute as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight. “What do you mean you have missed me? I’ve been right here.” Pyke’s face was soft with a half smile. But his eyes looked heavy. Elyar did not remember Pyke looking so worried.
Looking up Elyar noticed the world started to look weird. He glanced around as everything turned to haze. Everything except for him, Pyke, and a small circle around them. The sun still shone on them, he could feel the breeze and the grass brush against him. But outside of the little circle there was black.
Elyar steps back concern growing in his heart. He looked down. He was no longer a child like at the beginning of the dream. He looked like himself now. Minus the hurt limb and back that is. Pyke did not change. But now he looked at Elyar as if he could actually see him. It had been weeks since he had seen his old master. The sight of him hurt a litte, but also made him happy.
“Hello, Elyar.” Pyke said crossing his arms.
A little shocked, Elyar took a short step back, “wait, this isn’t a dream?”
Pyke laughed, “no dear child, this is not a dream. It was, but that was only so I could find you. But no, this is no dream.” With that Elyar dashed toward Pyke engulfing him in a bear hug. They stood there for a moment, before they released each other.
Pyke steps back while holding Elyar at arms length. “Somehow you look older. What have these few weeks done to you?”
A sadness crossed Elyar’s face. “The time might have been short, but I fear it would be a long tale.”
“Lucky for you, my boy, time we have. Here in the dream world there is no time.” Pyke waved his arm and the world shimmered. When things solidified they were standing in the wooden oak once again. The table, chairs, and tea pot where exactly as Elyar had last seen them. Gesturing for Elyar to sit, Pyke sat before pouring each a drink.
Elyar slowly sat down. He could not believe what he was seeing. Another dream, but not with the Raven King. “How is this possible?”
“How is what possible? Me being here?” Pyke pushed Elyar’s cup towards him while raising a questioning eyebrow.
“Yes! How are we speaking?” Elyar accepts the cup of tea and takes a sip. It is hot, but also the best tasting thing he has had in weeks. A hint of honey mixed with some lavender and other herbs he could not quite place.
“Dream weaving. Some fae can dream weave. It is a complex form of weaving that I won’t expect you to learn or remember. But know that I can get in contact with you. Now, tell me what has happened since I last saw you.”
Elyar could tell he was completely ignorant of his travels. With some excitment and trepedation Elyar began explaining his trip. The attack on the camp before Val, the night with Kristiana, how his father had recruited him for the investigation in the north, Havol’s death, and finally the battle at Val. It was a long tale that took two tea kettles to finish. Elyar sat in silence while Pyke mulled the story over in his seat.
“That is an impressive story, but I feel you have left out one detail.”
His head cocked to the side a little in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Sighing, Pyke leaned forward placing his elbows on the table. “My dear lad, I cannot read your mind, nor can I tell where you are, but I can feel your emotions. Dreams are powerfully connected to our emotional state. I can feel your loneliness and desperation. Now tell me, what is going on?”
The emotions he had been blocking suddenly broke. The joy of the previous scene had helped him forget. But only for a moment. his head dropped a little. While a tear from falling down his face. “I am in prison. Turon claims I used wild weaving during the battle. I don’t know Master Pyke. I have lost so much. Havol and Kristiana are both gone because of me. Father might be in danger and I can’t warn him. I feel…alone.”
Pyke’s face looked at Elyar with a mixture of compassion and sternness that only a father figure can make. “Elyar, do you remember how I came to live with your family?”
“Father rescued you during an invasion into the fae realms.” Elyar took another sip of soothing tea to calm his nerves.
“Yes. A human, my sworn enemy, took me to a far off land. I was alone, scared, and completely cut off from my people. But I never felt lonely. Do you know why?”
Elyar shook his head.
“I never felt lonely because I knew in my soul that people loved me. I may never see them again, but I knew they were there. Eventually your father came to embrace me as their own. Now I know I am loved here, and where I came from. Even when you are in the deepest pits of the darkest hell, always remember. Remember that you are loved. That can give you the strength you need.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Elyar thinking about what Pyke had just said and Pyke casually sipping his cup. After a bit, Elyar broke the silence, “Master, is there a difference between Tishan and Ishar dream weaving?”
Thinking for a minute, Pyke finally responded, “not really. Why? And how do you know those terms? I never taught you them?
“You are not the first dream weaver I have encountered. The King of Ravens has met me multiple times in my dreams. But they always look different. He has shown me visions of things that have not happened. We fought to the death once. And he always seems to know where I am. I was curious if Tishan weaving was different somehow.”
“Tishan and Ishar are inwardly nearly the same, Elyar. But there are some significant differences in weaving and abilities. Ishar, my people, thrive in warmth. We are fae of light, fire, and life. Therefore, our weaving is strongest when attempting manipulation in those areas. Tishan are the opposite. They like darkness, ice, and death. But, I don’t know how that impacts dream weaving.”
Elyar ponders that for a bit. “So that is why whenever we engaged with Lyrandionus, a Tishan, he caused mist and snow to appear?”
This takes Pyke aback. “Lyrandionus? How do you know that name?”
“He is the Tishan the Raven King sent for me. Lyrandionus said he was commanded to bring me back with him.”
Pyke’s breathing became labored. “If you met with Lyrandionus, than we are in more trouble than I feared. He is the second to only the King of Winter. The Winter Fae, or Tishan, were preparing for war before you were born. If Lyrandionus is in Korax than the war has finally begun.”
“Yes, I am aware the war has started. We found something in the north stating as much. That is why I need to warm my father. He is in danger.”
It is now Pyke’s turn to think for a minute. Elyar sinks back into his chair. His mind is trying to work out the escaping problem.
“Yes…your father needs to be warned. But I think there is something else. I need to come with you. It is time I return to my homeland and see what has happened these nearly twenty years. I fear things have changed.”
“You are going to come with me?”
“For as long as I am needed, yes.” Pyke’s words made Elyar’s heart jump. Having Pyke near for council and battles would be a big plus for him.
“Now listen to me my young lord. I will be there in two days. Will you be fine until I get there?”
Elyar’s mouth made a weird shape as he thought for a second. “I don’t know. Turon said I was to be judged after the burial ceremony. I have not heard any horns announcing its beginning. But that doesn’t mean much here.” he gave a half-hearted laugh. It was not a happy laugh.
“You will probably never hear me say this again, but try to escape. Head south a day’s ride. I will meet you through dream weaving if I can’t find you.”
Elyar laughed. He had never heard his old mentor advise him to do something against the law. “You know this will make both of us criminals?”
Pyke laughed with him. “I have been a criminal since coming here. You remember your lessons. Are fae welcomed in Korax?”
Elyar took a moment to recall what the scribes and Pyke had taught me. “No…the empire made it illegal for any non Koraxians to live within the empire. A fae couldn’t become a Koraxian, so I guess they are not allowed here. I guess we will have that in common soon.”
It had been decided. Elyar would try to escape. He would meet Pyke south of Val. Elyar was not exactly sure what Pyke had in mind after, but it did not matter to him much. Escape was the most important part. The rest would come when it was needed.
Now that the important stuff was out of the way, they continued chatting for a while longer. As Pyke had said, time did not exist in the dream world. They talked for hours. Pyke told him of stories since he left. Elyar retold some stories in more depth, or told silly stories from his journeys. They continued that way for a long time.
The time came for Elyar to leave. He could tell Pyke felt the same way. But one thing hung over Elyar. Something he had to tell Pyke before it was too late. Things could go very wrong over the next few days. There may never be another time. So Elyar cleared his throat, “Pyke…there is something I need to tell you before the dream ends.”
Turning to him slightly concerned and intrigued, “yes…” His eyebrow raised a little.
“One of the last times we talked you and I had a…disagreement. I need to apologize. I was a child then,” making a face suggesting that was not quite right, “I still am a child, actually. I acted foolishly thinking that it was the job of others to serve me. Recently, I have seen what leaders should be like. Helping the weak, and those who need it. Like my father does. I just needed to apologize. That is all.”
Pyke looked at him with a fatherly smile. “How you have grown in such a short time. You looked older, that we have discussed. But you have already started the path to wisdom. Well done, my lad. Well done.”
They embraced each other once again. But this time Pyke placed his hands on the sides of Elyar’s face. He bent the boys head down and kissed his forehead. It was weird, but Elyar appreciated the gesture. As they separated the world turned to haze again. The next thing Elyar saw was the ceiling of his prison cell as he opened his eyes. He felt rested. Rested and ready.