Hate
By Loke Mei Yin [Author Info]Ian Aurken stood in the middle of the room, nervously he eyes the council of elders before him. His father sat at the head, fuming. With anger or shame at the fact that his very own son would keep a drow child in the family’s hold without his knowledge wasn’t clear.
Even in the normally peaceful atmosphere of the chapel, Ian can feel the restlessness of the crowd gather outside. Silently he thanked the gods that the cathedral was on a cliff overlooking the Greater river roaring below. It could be dangerous if this place was surrounded, should the decision reached by the council, displease their fellow elves gathered outside.
Rather than look at the elders, Ian allowed his eyes to wander over the cathedral’s beautiful stained glass windows. The holy images always succeeded at calming him.
When his bundle moved, Ian’s attention focused on the baby he had named Dareth rather than continue to call it ‘baby’. The child hasn’t stirred, was just merely shifting in respond to some lovely dream it was obviously having. As he looked down at Dareth, Ian wondered not for the first time, how remarkable this little one is. Dareth is not the first drow Ian had seen, not by a long shot. He was however, the youngest. Studying Dareth’s features, Ian noted how the face was curved like an elf babe with the elegant visage of their race. From the slight angles of the chin to the high points of it’s ears still soft at the ends. Ian had no doubt that Dareth would have been irresistible had his parents been elves. But they are not, an inner voice spoke out. Yes, sighed Ian. And this was where the problem laid. For despite Dareth’s beauty, the smooth black ivory of his skin clearly marked him to be born from the bloodlines of the drow.
Ian still remembered the day he received Dareth from his friend, the human mercenary Richard Blackwood who chanced on Dareth during an attack on a city in the Underworld, and passed the babe to Ian since his friend was the closest thing he had to an expert on elven offspring. As expected, Ian had protested at the beginning about it, citing that he was not qualified to be looking after children and also that Ian didn’t trust himself to act civilly within 2 meters of any drow. At which, Richard had said.
"Ian, I know ya having no love for them either. But I know ya v’on’t hit no babe, drow or no." At this, Ian reluctantly nodded, unable to look Blackwood in the eye and lie.
"As for yonder qualifications, well… If ya not qualify, than who be. None of them other elves I know will be as honourable as ya, when it comes to them drow, babe or no. ‘Course, they won’t hurt the whew thing but that not a stopping them from abandoning it at the entrance of some cave to them Underworld then it be no better than killing it themselves. No, they von’t do. Then, who be left? Me?
Don’t make me laugh, lad."
Holding his tongue, Ian decided not to remind Richard that the elf was significantly older than the mercenary by more than a ten of hands. For despite himself, Ian found himself listening to Richard’s reasoning and found to his inward surprise, that he agreed with him. The fact that child Blackwood had brought was staring at him with eyes dripping of innocent trust, was not making this any easier. Ian barely heard Blackwood’s ramblings as he stared back, lost within the depths of those lovely eyes. It was only when Blackwood insistently cleared his throat, did Ian realised that the mercenary was waiting for a reply to some unheard question. "Pardon?"
Richard rolled his eyes heavenwards as he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘and they say elves `ave some of the best manners of the walking planes’ or ‘since he like it so much, vhy must he be so difficult about this. Stubborn pointy ears."
A cross expression passed over Ian’s features, successfully silenced anymore possible insults with it's promise of eternal pain on Richard’s being if the mercenary did not shut up.
Composing himself, Richard repeated. "The final choice be zat babe stay vith me along me travels. Ya know that be…." Richard stopped short Beheld Ian, who, on Blackwood’s statement had grabbed the baby and retreated to the other end of the room even as the elf eyed Ian warily. "All vight already, I get de point!"
This time, it was Ian’s turn to mutter indignities the kinds of which made the rounds included, ‘no child should be left in the your care’ and ‘leaving a child with Blackwood is as good as ruining it’s future’.
While Ian held it, the baby started to laugh as it reached tiny hands out to pat the lock of hair that hang by Ian’s right ear as a symbol of his membership of the house of Aurdark. Holding the child close to him, it was at that point that Ian decided to keep the baby. Citing an excuse that he was only looking after it until they found the child a home, Ian agreed that the child whom he had already decided to name Dareth get to stay with Ian in his quarters at the outer hold, for the next 5 cycles of seasons past till Richard find him a proper home.
The fact that Ian had isolated chambers in the sparsely populated area of Aurken Forest Hold allowed Dareth to remain hidden for 1 cycle of the seasons.
Now they been discovered, Ian awaited trial, the punishment promised would not be light. It was Dareth’s fate that fill Ian with dread. Although it’s been barely a year since Dareth was left with him, Ian felt protective of the child, not just only because Dareth reminded him of Arthean. At the thought of his youngest brother, Ian shivered. "Arthean, oh Arthean. My poor infant brother." A whisper escaped Ian’s lips.
"So you haven’t forgotten…"
Shocked that he was heard, Ian lifted his head to stare straight into the bitterness of his father’s eyes. The sight of those dreadful eyes made Ian unintentionally step back.
Lord Aurken leveled his glaze on his son icily, speaking out for all to hear, in particular Ian.
"Arthean, my lovely child, born at the end of the White Cold, two cycles past. You were no older than a ten of moons when your life was cut down." Here, Aurken’s stare intensified with hate and Ian sinked back. "By a drow raiding party, no less!"
The statement acted like a flare that rekindled the feeling of hate that sweep the community of Aurken Forest Hold after that horrid attack during the beginning of spring. The hate spread through the elders like wildfire and it sicken Ian even as he recalled his horror during the attack. Ian was one of the few defenders who managed to return before the raiding party withdrew, the majority of the defenders had left earlier in response to an attack on the major holding further upriver. The assault upstream was actually a decoy, the main drow party having set it’s sights on the defenceless hold. Emotions threatened to consume Ian as he recalled, the pain of a sword cutting through his flesh, the terror of incoming darkness as he laid in a pool of his own blood, the despair he felt when he regained consciousness and discovered Arthean had been slain in the room next to where Ian had almost died.
Madness of hate and the overwhelming sense of failure made Ian withdrew to live in isolation among the now empty quarters in the older sections of the forest. The need of rebuilding the hold eventually brought him back on occasion, even through the sorrow remained when the madness ebbed. Then Blackwood arrived a cycle later with Dareth.
A slight but persistent tugging returned Ian to the present, discovering that Dareth had awoken and taken to pulling his favorite lock of Ian’s hair. In the background the elders voices rose as they trailed off the memories of that fateful attack, cursing Dareth with all the indignities they could think of. Obviously, this was what had woken Dareth in the first place. A glance at his father out of the corner of his eye, made Ian felt smaller than before. The aura surround Lord Aurken was unforgiving and seeping with black hate. Ian watched as his father spoke, "The council has reached a decision."
At this, silence fell down like a cold shadow on the chapel. Ian could barely believe the words that followed. "Ian Aurken, having brought shame to your Hold, by the ancient laws you should be banished. But the council recalled your valiant defence of the Hold during the last raid where you almost died and that obviously you have not been well when you took it upon yourself to withdraw from your clan. You are now ordered to return to the main hold to remain under the scrutiny of your elders. As for the forsaken child, it is a seed of evil and must be destroyed before it can rake havoc on this land."
Feeling his legs go weak, Ian would have fell on his knees had he not catch himself at the last moment. ‘It is a seed of evil and must be destroyed’. Those words danced in his mind, which was a blank, saved those words. The despair and sense of failure that Arthean’s death had planted, resurfaced. A tug from Dareth made Ian look at the infant, who laughed in joy at having caught Ian’s attention. Anger and indignity sized Ian. Straightening, Ian aimed an accusing finger at the council. "Animals! Have ya no honour?! Can’t ya see it is but a child! No matter what wrong de other drows might have done to us, it does not concern Dareth! He be innocent of them, ya hear me!"
Elder Viente stood with such force, it knocked her seat over. "All drows are evil! Have you forgotten who gave you de scar that nows cross ya self from de left shoulder to yonder right side?!"
Another, Elder Jarrek added. "And who be said monster that burn our hold and home? The one who kill our children and destroy our families. Those who hate us for what we are. The Black Plague! Them drows."
Accusations rained forth, attacking Ian with words of forgetting his honour and duty.
"ENOUGH!!"
The sudden outburst shocked the Elders into mute attention. Slowly, steady Ian draw out even as he hang his head. "I have never forgotten."
"With the coming of night, sleep wash over me bearing me back to de exact moments be the attack was. I smell the death and ash in the air as my lips taste my blood. The pain of the sword cutting through me, the fear of ever approaching darkness. But above all, I hear them. The moans of the dying and laughter of the enemy. And among them, I heard him. Arthean’s voice, over and over. Calling for help, however I can’t find him. I thought I’ll go mad, that perhaps he might have been alive, had I was faster."
Ian paused to caught his breath, his tired face looked at every one of the elders, none of whom could meet his eyes. All except his father, whose own twinkled with tears barely held at bay and pain that reflected Ian’s own. A ghost of a smile danced on Ian’s face as the next memory came, "then Dareth came. And I remembered, the joy of life and care like de time I first held Arthean. I had to come back, cause there is someone else who needed me here, away from the dreams….."
Shifting his focus, Ian moved towards Elder Jarrek. "Elder, with all be due. You mentioned de drow hate us and I admit it be true. I’ve seen the expressions upon the faces of those attackers and I swear, I’ll never forget the hate I saw there….I’ve told myself, that should I live through de attack. I’ll never go that way. For that is what makes me different from them, but if ya would kill an innocent out of hate for others of his race, what difference does it makes us from them?"
At these words, the council was render speechless. Then, Elder Viente spoke, "aye. We are not like them. Ian, lad, you do know however that if we keep the child he will not be welcome among the others."
"There is now the problem of who will keep him." Added ElderJarrek thoughtfully.
Before Ian could argue that he is perfectly capable of fending for himself and Dareth, another voice rang through the air. "No."
All turned in surprise at Lord Aurken.
"My lord?" Elder Ernst ventured.
"Those monsters killed my youngest. I will have blood for blood." Here a hand went to his sword hilt. Ian drew back in horror, clinging Dareth tightly.
"Lord…lord…Aurken!!" Jarrek quickly rose to restrain Aurken who backhand Jarrek into the wall. The remaining three elders tried to approach but were warned back by Aurken who drew his blade. The hiss of metal sliding against metal sounded eerily loud in the chapel’s tenseness. Getting closer, Aurken stopped short just 5 steps from Ian. A hand held out, waiting at Ian. "Come, child. Hand over the demon spawn and let us avenge Arthean."
Bewildered, Ian responded. "Moon keep us. Why are you doing this? He is a child!"
Lord Aurken sighed loudly, " Somehow, I guessed you wouldn’t give up so easily."
The blade sliced through the air, Ian cried out in pain as it struck the hand that was thrown protectively over Dareth. Aurken looked annoyed at Ian, "Give me the beast."
Ian knew he cannot beat his father even on the former’s best day, the only option was to flee. But as he tried to make a run for it, the blade struck Ian in the back of his right leg. Screaming in pain, Ian fell on his side. Frightened by the scream of his guardian, Dareth started to cry. Ian tried franticly to crawl away, one hand holding Dareth till he backed against a window.
"Why? Why won’t you let him by? I know you agreed with me that the baby is innocent. So why do you do this? Answer me, Father!"
Aurken, to Ian’s surprise could not meet his son’s look. "It should not be….He is a murderer’s child, Arthean was a gift to me by the gods themselves. Ian, I….I…cannot forgive them. Nor can I forget the pain. Someone, someone must pay for Arthean’s death. It is not fair that Arthean must die whereas the murderer’s spawn live. Surely you understand, Arthean was your brother."
As they faced each other, Ian realised the his father was not going to let Dareth leave this place alive. He could hear the Greater River below, the roaring of the river matching the turmoil in his heart. In the end, he made his decision.
"Father, I’m sorry."
"Ian?"
Gathering his strength, Ian threw himself through the windows, the impact scattering the stained glass into thousand light fragments. Desperately Ian tried to shelter Dareth as they plunged into the waters below.
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Copyright © 1999 by Loke Mei Yin. This material may be distributed only subject to the terms and conditions set forth in the Open Publication License, v.04 1998 or later (the latest version is presently available at http://www.opencontent.org/openpub/).
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