Origin (2 page)

As she continued to walk slowly back toward the square, her hand automatically reached for the beautiful golden pendant hanging from her neck. She hadn’t taken it off, even once, since she received it from her uncle and Clayre at her recent birth celebration. She looked upon the pendant as a gift from her mother. The delicately carved piece of jewelry was, in fact, the only evidence she had, beyond a few stories, of her mother’s existence. Elwyn’s mother Rhianna died shortly after giving birth to her. When she was very young she hadn’t missed her mother’s presence. She’d always had Clayre in her life, nurturing her and acting as a female role model. However, as she grew older she found herself wishing, with increasing frequency, that her own mother still lived and could provide answers to the questions that constantly plagued her. Why was she so tall? Why was she more athletic than most of the males in the village? Most important, why did she look so different from her uncle and from all the other people she’d seen? If her uncle Rhys, with whom she lived, knew the answers, he wasn’t willing to share them. He always got upset when she inquired about the past. Only once in her sixteen seasons, had Rhys shared anything with her about the events surrounding her birth.

One winter evening, after several flagons of ale, Rhys broke down and spoke to Elwyn about the events that occurred prior to her birth and the tragic illness that, to this day, had him trapped in grief.

“It was late one night when your mother came to me. Alesia and I were already asleep. I can still vividly recall her tear-streaked face and look of total exhaustion. As she fell through the door into my arms, it was clear she was terrified. Tears streamed from her eyes as she looked up at me, begging me to take her in.”

“What happened to her, uncle?”

“I can only guess that she was mistreated by those I believed would care for her. Her eyes spoke how frightened she was; not only for herself but for you, her unborn child. She arrived at our home with only her horse and the clothes on her back. I was shocked when I got a good look at her. She was great with child, but the rest of her body showed cruel neglect. She was so thin and frail, I was almost afraid my embrace would crush her.

I quickly asked Alesia to summon Clayre, who back then was a midwife. After she examined your mother, we learned that she was both malnourished and dehydrated. To make matters worse, she was only about three weeks away from her expected delivery date. It was hard for me to hide my rage. No woman in her condition should have been allowed to get as sick and weak your mother was. I was furious at how she must have been treated and even angrier at the husband who forced her to run from him. The Rhianna that appeared at my door was very different from the happy and excited sister I remembered giving away in marriage the previous year.”

As he spoke the next part, Elwyn could see water pooling in his blue eyes. She could actually feel just how much talking about the past pained him. Her uncle was the bravest man she knew and rarely ever became emotional. She knew that only unbearable anguish could cause his tears to fall.

“Rhianna was always so joyful and full of life. She fell in love with your father the day they met. I couldn’t imagine what could have happened between them to make her so fearful and determined to leave him that she’d risk her life and yours.

I desperately wanted to make things better for her. I’d always felt we had a special connection. We looked alike, thought alike, and even shared our mother’s womb. Even though she was born first, I always felt the need to protect her. She could look so delicate and ethereal at times, she almost resembled the faire folk you hear about in children’s stories.”

The tears were flowing freely now as her uncle seemed lost in his painful memories.

“Of course, Alesia and I offered her our spare room. One of the things that upset and worried me most was how depressed and withdrawn she seemed. No matter how hard I tried, I could never get her to do any more than exchange small talk with us at meals. But my heart broke each night when I heard her crying herself to sleep through the thin walls of our home.

When your mother went into labor a few weeks later, Alesia and Clayre served as her midwives while I paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, wondering if she would survive the rigors of birth in her poor physical condition. All of us felt a moment of pure joy when you came into the world, little one. We were amazed at how perfect a little girl you were. And for a short time, we were able to give ourselves over to the bright hope for the future that you brought with you.”

Elwyn could not stop the tears from flowing down her own cheeks as she listened to her uncle speak of her birth and the happiness she brought to those that loved her.

“For a few weeks after your birth, both Alesia and Rhianna worked hard every day, making clothes for you and putting food by for the coming winter. I think my favorite moment during that time was when I gave your mother the cradle that I’d been carving for you to sleep in. She laughed happily and seemed to overflow with joy. Her laughter was like music to my ears.

It was still heart wrenching for us to hear her crying herself to sleep at night, but Rhianna continued to stubbornly refuse to talk about what went wrong. I kept getting the feeling that she was waiting for someone to show up, but no one ever did. I think the few weeks after you arrived were the happiest of my life. I was married to the woman I loved, I was expecting my first child, and I had my beloved twin and her daughter close by my side.

I was actually planning to build the two of you a small house next to mine, so that both of you would always be close. Alesia was planning to help by making curtains and linens in your mother’s favorite shade of blue. It was to be our surprise for you both.”

The tears started to flow from my uncle’s eyes again as he described how his happiness was shattered by grief and despair, when a strange illness brought death to the lives of his loved ones and friends.

“It was torturous for me to watch as my wife grew ill and wasted away before my eyes. It seemed to happen almost overnight. Your mother became ill shortly after my Alesia. I was wracked with grief watching the two women I loved the most growing weaker by the day. I was consumed with rage because no one could do anything to help them. The agony of knowing that I would never get a chance to look upon the face of the child Alesia and I created together in love destroyed my will to live.”

Her uncle attempted to smile through his tears as he tried, without much success, to hide the pain he was feeling.

“Everyone was amazed that neither you nor I got sick. In your case, it was considered a miracle Elwyn, because every other child in the village of less than two seasons came down with the illness and died.”

Her uncle’s bitterness was almost tangible as he continued telling her about the events he so hated to remember.

“It was horrible for me to stay healthy and watch so many of the people I knew and cared for die from that accursed plague. I had to do something to keep from going mad, so I began to study the people who got sick to see if there was a pattern to be found in who lived and died. At first, it seemed that the illness struck people randomly with no apparent pattern; except for the children of course.

As I continued the study, a pattern did begin to emerge. It seemed that any of the villagers over two who contracted the disease when their immune systems were compromised, died from it. Pregnant and nursing women, people who were ill or recovering from illnesses all quickly succumbed to the plague. Everyone else who became ill recovered quickly with no lasting effects.

Something else that I found to be very strange was that no one in any of the neighboring villages became ill. It almost seemed as if the plague somehow targeted our village. I’ve always felt uncomfortable about that time, thinking that there was something going on I didn’t understand. As time passed, I grew to think that my suspicions were probably just the musings of a crazy old fool lost in grief. ”

Elwyn found herself agreeing with her uncle about them both being a bit lost; she in a lack of identity, and he in a maze of grief. Growing up, Elwyn heard talk from a few of the older villagers, about how her uncle had gone from being friendly, outgoing, and involved in local leadership, to withdrawn, uncommunicative, and unwilling to participate in any village activities. Since that time, the only people he willingly spent time with were Clayre, the village healer, and herself.

“Is that when you and Clayre came to be such good friends?”

“I first came to know Clayre shortly after we discovered that Alesia was pregnant. She was to be Alesia’s midwife when her time came. The two of them became good friends over the next few months and enjoyed spending time together. She became a much more frequent visitor in our home after your mother arrived, trying to help her to gain some strength and prepare for your birth. When my wife and your mother became ill, Clayre worked by my side day and night trying to save them.

After they died, I was so broken I just couldn’t face dealing with anything more. Clayre prepared them for burial and stood with me as they were both lowered into the ground. She didn’t push me when I was wracked with grief and fury and just wanted to be alone, but she was always there to listen during times when I needed to talk about what happened. There has never been anyone else since I lost my wife and my sister that showed me such loyalty and friendship.”

“What a difficult time that must have been for Clayre as well. Having so many people that she cared about die must have broken her heart.”

“That time was more difficult for her than most people realize. She lost her husband Liam, early on to the plague. He was at home recovering from a broken leg and was one of the first to get sick. Then our healer, who had been recovering from a hunting accident, died of the illness and the village elder begged Clayre to take the position. We had no apprentice healer at the time and she had the most medical skill. Clayre accepted, ignoring the fact that it would destine her to a life without marriage or children. At the time, she was desperate to fill her life with something besides her own personal loss.

Clayre and I spent the next two months working day and night treating the mounting number of stricken villagers; refusing to give into our grief, or focus on the sobering outlook for the future.”

It was easy for Elwyn to see how, in the aftermath of the death and destruction, the two of them formed such a strong friendship. Their relationship was fueled by their shared grief, the bitter pill that dictated their destinies, as well as their shared desire to love and care for her.

Elwyn knew that Rhys and Clayre did everything possible to raise her as well as they could. Rhys protected her and treated her like a loving father, and Clayre viewed her as the daughter she never had. She worked hard to be obedient and tried to resist prying too much into the past. Elwyn grimaced as she remembered how difficult it had been to restrain her growing curiosity, and how frustrated she felt at her uncle’s terse responses when she was unable to silence her questions. Rhys seemed to have a difficult time speaking of her mother, and angrily refused to say a word about her father. It was obvious that her questions upset him, evidenced by the copious amounts of ale he consumed when she pushed him too far.

As Elwyn grew older, she focused her attention on being a good and cooperative daughter to both her surrogate parents. She helped her uncle around the house with the cleaning, cooking, and shopping. When she wasn’t involved in physical training or doing school work, she acted as his assistant in the blacksmith shop. She was quick, strong, and enjoyed working with horses. Even as a young girl, she seemed to have an unusually calming effect upon the most nervous and unfriendly animals. She also tried to help Clayre by acting as her apprentice when she was needed.

Elwyn always sensed Clayre’s love and support. She knew that Clayre understood and related to her desire to know more about her parents. She was also aware that Clayre pushed for as much information from Rhys about Rhianna that friendship would allow, but that it proved to be a very difficult task for her as well. At first, they both attributed Rhys reluctance to speak to intense grief. As the seasons passed however, they both began to think that he was being deliberately secretive and came to realize that he was as reluctant to speak about his own past as that of his twin. Elwyn listened carefully as Clayre told her what she knew of him, one afternoon while they were drying herbs.

“I remember when Rhys came to the village to live. I didn’t see him much, but my Liam said that he was very tight lipped and refused to say anything about his life before he arrived. That seemed especially strange to the men, because he seemed to speak his mind freely on other subjects. It was quite a while before the men were willing to accept him. Many of them still don’t understood why he avoids talking about his past or his family. No one in the village even knew he had a sister until your mother showed up at his door. Eventually the men did learn to trust him though. He proved that he was a good man and could be counted on many times over, but he has never trusted anyone in the village enough to speak of his past. Rhys may have shared his secrets with Alesia; but if he did, they died with her.”

Elwyn felt very anxious and was almost desperate to find out any information she could about her mother. Part of it was just curiosity, but there was a part of her that longed to connect with the woman that gave birth to her. Because Clayre seemed sympathetic to her plight, she often brought the subject up when they were alone. Clayre was always willing to share what she knew.

“After your mother and Alesia died, your uncle asked me to go through their possessions. He didn’t think that keeping them around as reminders of the past would be good for either of you. He begged me to sort through their belongings and pass them on to people in need.

As I searched through your mother’s things, I came across a few items I felt your uncle should save and give you when you came of age. The first was a beautiful gold pendant on a delicate chain that appeared to be woven from human hair. The hair was a blend of reddish gold and jet black tresses that had been masterfully woven together into a chain of amazing dexterity, strength, and beauty. I never saw your mother without the pendant hanging from her neck. I removed it myself after her death.”