Chapter Eight

My heart sang with joy when I finally saw the familiar picks of Mount Isel on the horizon.

Once on dry land my first stop was the home of a distant cousin who lived in the seaside city of Ursel. His name was Elarios and he had been, at the time I met him , a traveling minstrel in the eve of his retirement. Hopefully he was still alive and receding in the city.

The entire family rejoiced to see me, I was thought dead by my relatives. Every now and then rumors would arrive of a Nightshadow boy living as a slave in some far away land, but after that nothing else would be heard. With time my family lost all hope of ever seeing me again.

A week after my arrival messengers came from my house. I was to be escorted home, immediately. A month later I stood before my ancestral home. Kneeling before it's gates I praised all the gods, for I was finally back home. Soon I was swallowed be a horde of relatives who wanted to welcome me home . Even our old servants were happy for my return.

Here no one cared were I had been , or what I had done. I was family and so were my children , that was all that mattered.

When I finally saw my mother I ran into her arms and cried with an abandonment I had never allowed myself to experience in my former life. I knew then , in her tender embrace, that the wounds would heal.

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I write the last words in my memoirs as I gaze at my children playing in the garden. A few tears stain my cheeks, even now the memories cause me pain.

Two years have passed since my return and this has been my last desperate attempt to silence the ghosts of my past.

I marvel at the strange events which transpired in my absence. My cousin , Mirial Nightson, bore a demon-child to the king , his husband. Our world faced utter destruction at his hands. Yet, Mirial sacrificed his powers and saved us all. Then he did the impossible he gave birth a second time. A beautiful boy , who is at this very moment playing with the twins. The nurses have a hard time dealing with the three toddlers.

All sorts of miracles are taking place all over Janniz , but... He will never come back.

I felt specially nostalgic today , restless. Over and over I kept seeing him in my mind, my beloved Antianne.

On an impulse I took the old dress from the chest in which I had placed it for safekeeping.

My hands run over the smooth material. I am wearing it now, in broad daylight. If someone sees me like this they might think I have gone mad. I could care less.

The day is nearly gone. I was so engrossed in the writing of my tale I failed to notice the hours rushing by. On the horizon the sun is setting.

It is then I perceive a man's silhouette against the sunset. He is walking towards me . Something about his gait is very familiar to me. I know him somehow.

My eyes are squinting from the brilliant light . It hides his face from my view. But then, he stands before me.

By the gods! It is Antianne!

He smiles, so full of warmth and love, that I can not believe he is real, not some vision created by my tortured brain. But then, I see the cruel scar marring his youthful face. It travels on the left side of his face from his forehead over his eye, all the way to his cheek .His crimson eyes are suffused with a wisdom beyond his years. He too has had his share of adventures since we parted , perhaps someday I will ask him ,but not today.

It is enough that he is here , that he returned to me.

I fall into his arms sobbing from pure joy. Our bodies rock against each other , caught in the intense emotion of the moment. Then he gives me an ardent kiss. My mind reels from the pent-up desire. How I have missed him .

When we finally pause our kiss, he whispers to me, renewing that silent pledge of love he had made on the ship.

We will never part again! At long last I am home!

The End

Original story by Angela M. Meléndez

E-mail [email protected]

1998