The Rider's Return

Chapter One

         Elana tossed in her sleep.

         A dark thing was chasing her; she had to get away. Someone was yelling, "Run Elana! GO! You can't stay here. Now MOVE!" She didn't want to leave this person behind her, but the dark was getting even closer. She tried to turn, but her foot was caught fast. She tripped and scampered up again. Up ahead was a bright light, if only she could get to it, she'd be safe. She got to the light, but it was a door shut tight. She pounded on it, crying for help, but it wouldn't open, and the dark thing was getting closer, and closer...

         Elana woke with a start to hear frantic pounding on the door. 'Damn this Sight!' she cursed to herself. She opened it, and her brother, Darin, collapsed into her arms. He looked terrible, his clothes in rags and his hair matted with leaves. She could feel the dark thing that had been chasing him not far off, so she slammed the door shut and put down every spell of binding, protection, and glamoury that she knew. That thing would not dare to come here.

*

         Over the next few days, Elana went about her usual business. The village she lived just down the road from revered her for her healing skills, and for the odd silvery color of her hair. The villagers came to her with their aches and pains, broken arms, coughs, arthritis, or whatever else happened to cause them ailment. Even, every now and again, they came to her merely for talk, to speak of so-and-so’s daughter who was going to marry this miller’s son, or how the lady up the lane was going to have her third child soon. The little ones came to her weekly to learn their herbs and medicines, and more than once they returned shyly with little garlands of flowers. These she took gaily and laughed, for truly did they bring her joy.
         Many of the village women, however, found their healer to be rather strange. “She lives all alone in the house of hers,” they whispered. “’T'ain’t right. And she’ll never be caught discussing her past, neither.” Elana knew of their hushed words, and paid them no heed. She had her reasons to leave her past behind, and it did not matter in the least to her that some town gossip found her odd.
         On the third day after Darin’s arrival, he woke up. His was a sudden waking, as Lina, her pet cat, walked over his stomach. Immediately, Darin was on his feet, his right hand reaching for his sword, which was no longer at his side, but on a wooden table nearby. He looked around, tensed and ready to fight- only there was no one, only a little orange cat, mewling in outrage, as Darin had stepped on her tail as he jumped up. As Darin began to take a closer look at his surroundings, he spotted Elana in a chair, doubled over with silent laughter.
         He gave a sheepish smile and sank down on a chair next to her, still very exhausted. Elana gave up trying to be silent and burst out into raucous laughter. Darin glared at her for a few minutes, then gave up and started laughing too.
         At last they were able to stop, and brother and sister embraced. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Darin?”
         ”A few years, perhaps. It’s good to see you, sis.”
         ”You too. Where else would I get my entertainment?”
         ”By looking into your own past, most likely.”
         ”Hush, you!” Darin gave an impish grin. Elana returned it with a frosty glare until both started laughing again.
         "Now then,” Elana said, trying very hard to breathe, “I have several questions. Like, what was that thing trying to get you? Who released it? And who was it that was helping you fight it?”
         ”I guess I’d better start at the beginning. I was at a tavern-“
         ”Darin! You know how alcohol impairs your judgment and-“
         ”As I was saying, I was in a tavern, trying to pick up some news about the weather down in Bregnen, when I met this other mage, Tom. He was a tall guy, brown hair, actually pretty average-looking. Except for those eyes. They were blue, with silver around the iris. I thought he might actually be related to Kevin, but I suppose that’s aside the point.” After this, Darin looked quickly at his sister, who had risen to make tea. She didn’t turn around, so he figured that his comment hadn’t had any effect on her. Good, he thought, she’s finally getting past it… He continued with his story.
         ”Anyways, we both felt a rift being opened between the worlds. Someone was summoning that thing from a prison in the ninth hell.”
         ”What? What kind of fool would summon that kind of demon? That’d be a Kadak, and those things aren’t easy to control, and they have a terrible bloodlust. And since you say it was in prison, it must have been evil enough that a powerful necromancer sent it there.”
         ”It wasn’t any fool that summoned it, Elana.” Darin paused, apprehensive of how Elana was going to take his next statement. “It was the Rider.”
          He heard shattering glass from the kitchen as Elana dropped her teapot. “The Rider?” she asked, re-entering the room, pale-faced and shaking. “Are you sure you didn’t make a mistake?”
         ”Elana, there’s no mistaking that guy. If that demon-horse wasn’t enough, the presence of a massacred village would seal the deal,” he said grimly.
         ”But,” she began, sinking back into her chair. “But after that battle- the Gate- being sealed away by Kevin-“ Her head sunk into her hands and she began to cry. Kevin, Kevin the Blue Mage, had been her love. In a terrible battle against the Rider, Kevin had used all of his strength to send the Rider and his armies beyond the nine hell, never to be seen again. If he was back, then Kevin’s sacrifice meant nothing. All the mages who had died, her friends- it all meant nothing.
         Darin got up and walked over to his weeping sister. “It’s okay, Elana. It’s okay. The world hasn’t forgotten him, or the others. It doesn’t matter that it’s been a hundred years, it won’t matter in a thousand. The horrors the Rider brought won’t be forgotten, and the one who stopped him won’t either. You and I have faded into the background, but the mortal folk still have their ballads, and Kevin is sung of in them. We can stop him again, Elana.”
         ”I- I just wish- It’s not fair! I’ll live a thousand thousand years, and for me the grief will burden me until the far-off day I die!
         ”But if I can stop the monster who took him away from me, I think that that might help. I may die trying, but either way, it won’t hurt anymore.” Elana’s voice turned to a kind of frosty determination. “What happened next?” she demanded, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief.
         ”Tom and I went to the rift, and met the Rider. He set loose that demon on us, but it was so strong, we couldn’t hold out for long. He told me to run, and find the White Lady of Lorien, and warn her of this matter. I don’t even know who the White Lady is! I’ve heard of her, certainly, who hasn’t? But that’s only in legend. Anyways- Elana, you’ve gone even paler! What is it?”
         ”It’s… nothing. Just listen. Tomorrow morning I want you to leave for Havenshire. Tell Celeste what you just told me, and tell her to prepare the Circle. I’m leaving tonight at moonrise. Thank the Goddess it’s full. A horse will be waiting for you in the morning, with the necessary supplies. Once you leave, do not look back, and do not try to guide the horse. It will know where it’s going and get you there safely. Get some rest, I have to pack.”
         ”But- What- Oh, bother that. You’ve always been so serious, Elana. I should know by now to obey without question. Ah well. Good night then, Elana.” Darin went back to his bed, but did not sleep. What could Elana be planning? What was the whole deal with this White Flower Lady? With these troubled thoughts, exhaustion at last reclaimed him, and he slept.

Chapter Two

         At moonrise Elana rode out, as she had said she would. She had given a last goodbye to a still-confused Darin, and then rode away at a gallop. She at last stopped a little after dawn at a little safe house she had long had prepared in case of such an emergency.           It wasn’t much of a house, really. It had a roof, four walls, a fire pit, and very little else. Still, it was functional, and all she needed to do was sleep and cook a hasty meal. She rolled out her pallet; a simple thing made of woven grass, and sat down upon it, chanting. One by one she set up wards around the house, solid barriers that, if broken, would immediately alert her to the presence of a malign person. As the thirteenth ward went up, Elana lay back and immediately fell asleep, exhausted.
         Elana was rudely awakened by one of her wards being broken. She was about to sit bolt upright, but she then realized that the broken ward was the one actually inside the door.
         Instead she cast up an illusion to make it seem like she was still sleeping, then stealthily moved away from her sleeping place and behind the intruder. It was a tall man, but beyond that she could tell no more. So, taking no chances with a mage strong enough to go through twelve of her wards without alarming her, she wove a crystalline cage of white magic above him. The same second the man stepped on the edge of her cloak she let it fall. Instantly it shrunk so that he scarcely had room to breathe, and Elaine stepped out of the shadows.
         "Who are you? What are you doing here?" she demanded. At first the man wouldn't answer, so she surrounded the cage with a great pressure, as if a giant hand was squeezing it.
         The man fell to one knee and gasped, "I am Tom, sent from the Tuatha de Dannan of Tir na Nog, with a message for the White Lady of Lorien." Elana turned ashen and instantly dropped the pressure and cage. A very few people knew her to be the White Lady, as even her own brother did not, and even fewer knew to address her as such when at the edge of her blade.
         Casting up a small ball of werelight, Elana dug in her bags and emerged with a small flask. Handing it to the man, Tom, she said, "Drink this. It'll help you recover." He nodded and accepted, immediately taking a deep swig. About half a second later he was coughing and sputtering; it was a very strong liquor she had given him. A small smile played around Elana's lips; it gives a certain pride to know that you can have such dramatic effects on people.
         "So, Tom, what message have you for me?" she asked politely when he had finished. He gave her a black look, then turned sober again.
         "It is ill news, milady. The Rider is back, and has released a new and terrible wave from Death. You need to get to the Circle in the greatest haste."
         The urgency and concern in the man's voice made Elana take a second look at him. He was, as she discerned earlier, tall, with broad shoulders and cropped brown hair. His red-brown skin contrasted with his travel stained cloak, making it look even more burnt. Looking at his face she noticed three long scratches, is if a cat had gotten his cheek, but these were too wide and deep for a cat. Glancing down she saw more such scratches on his arms as well. But two things held Elana's attention: the small silver brooch in the shape of an oak leaf, the symbol of a master mage; and his ice-blue eyes, laced with quicksilver, which were so much like... But that was the past, and there were more important things at present.
         "Yes, my brother told me as much, even if he didn't know it. You are the Tom that saved him, are you not?" He nodded. “I thought as much.” She stepped closer and put hers hands out, one just in front of his arms and the other before his face. Summoning up power, she sent the white light coursing to the scratches and mending them without a scar.
         "He made it then?" Tom looked relieved, both from anxiety and the sting of the previously open wounds.
         "Yes, thanks to you. But enough of this. You spoke truth about our needing haste. We must leave now; can you call your horse?"
         "He's waiting outside." With that Elana bent for her luggage and took the lead out the door and into the night air.

Chapter Three

         They rode the whole night, Elana leading, riding along a faery path. The path went all through the forest, and was well-beaten, but none of the common people knew of it. These paths were all over the country, made thousands of years in the past for the safety of refugee mages. Though not exactly refugees, Tom and Elana were in a great hurry, and the paths were the quickest way to get to where they were going.
         As they rode past a particularly thick bit of wood, Elana felt a sudden, sharp pain along her arm and gasped.
         "What is it?" asked Tom.
         "Nothing... Just a bee sting."
         "Ah," he said, dismissing it as that. He realized his mistake when, a few minutes later, Elaine fell off her horse and didn't get up.
         Tom reined in his horse and retrieved Elana, swearing. He carried her along a little trail leading off the main path to a small cave. The cave was concealed between large thistles, so Tom drew his sword to hack his way in. Before he struck it, the bushes parted, and two small faeries one blue, the other silver, flew out, saying, “You could have just asked,” in a hurt tone.
         ”Sorry, ladies, but I’m in just a bit of a hurry,” he said with a small smile.
         ”Everybody’s in a hurry these days,” the blue one said.
         ”Isn’t that just the truth? Come, let’s leave this crazy mage and go back to the hollow,” the silver one replied. The two faeries flew out of sight, twittering in an irritated manner.
         Tom carried Elana into the cave, and already she was trembling with fever. He rolled out her sleeping mat and laid her upon it, wiping her damp forehead with a damp cloth. “Poison,” he muttered, wringing the cloth and dabbing her face again. “A dart, but it’s not one I’ve seen… Come on, Elana; don’t let this one beat you down. You’ve been through poisons before; you can survive this one too.” But it certainly did not appear that way. Any other poison would have worked much slower, and the way things were going, by dawn Elana would be dead.
         Tom made a small fire and started boiling some willow-bark tea, to try to bring down the fever. Elana made a small noise, and he turned to see what was wrong. Her hands were wringing the blanket he had covered her with, and her face was troubled, even afraid. She started to shout out nonsensical things, and at times she screamed.
         What on earth is going on in her mind? Tom wondered. He had to know, or else he wouldn’t be able to fight it. Besides, if there was a chance to save the White Lady by going into her mind, well, it was a chance well taken. He stooped next to her and gently laid one hand on either side of her head. He sent his magic out to her and was immediately absorbed into her dream.
         It came in pieces, like glimpses of the past. The first thing he saw was a gargantuan stone gate, carved with delicate runes and drawings, shimmering with magic. A huge black force rushed at it, a lone figure on a horse at its lead.
         Another force, this one white, poured forth from the gate. The two great forces met, clashing, battling one another for control. The white force was weakening, and many mages fell. The gate, formerly unbreakable, was beginning to crack.
         A lone mage, silver hair flying, stood in the middle of the mêlée. She wove her hands in intricate gestures and was muttering under her breath in the fey language. A light began to glow around her, rapidly increasing in intensity. The figure on the horse, the Rider, grinned maliciously and rode towards her. More mages fell, and the crack in the gate spread in web-like tendrils.
          The Rider and the White Lady met, each leaders of their tide. The Lady, with a look of pure hatred on her face, drew her hands sharply together, preparing to release the spell. But another mage, the only one besides the Lady clad in silver, leapt forward and stopped her. Then-
         Tom quickly withdrew from her mind. Elana was screaming now, and thrashing about wildly. If she keeps this up she’ll attract all the evil creatures from here to Macwen, her thought. No sooner had this crossed him mind than he heard the guttural language of the trolls outside the cave. How long have I been in there, anyways? he reflected bitterly, drawing his sword. “If they want a fight, they’ll get one,” he muttered, and rushed out of the cavern.
         Elana’s dream, however, went on. The mage who had stopped her from releasing her spell called on the winds to sweep her and the survivors clear of the area. “Kevin, no!” the Lady screamed as the wind took her in its powerful grasp. She was openly weeping. Kevin looked back at her, gave a small smile, and wove a spell of his own. As the Rider realized what the spell was meant to do, the smile faded from his face.
         ”Run!” he bellowed to his troops. But it was too late. Kevin let loose his spell, and every sentient being in the area was swept into the depths of hell, never again to be released. But he too had gone, and left Elana all alone, he was gone, gone…
         ”NO!” Elana shouted, the fever breaking. She woke to the sounds of battle, and without thinking, she called upon the flaring white radiance which still glowed around her, somehow having crossed from her dream into reality. She rose, the very air surging with magic, and exited the cave. She once again saw Kevin locked in battle, and instinctively let loose her power.
         It had the effect of a tidal wave. The white light pouring from her outstretched hand utterly destroyed all of Kevin’s attackers. Kevin’s eyes widened in shock as he saw Elana in her power, and was there to catch her when she fell, drained, into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

*

         When she woke up, the first thing she saw was Tom, his back to her, tending the fire. She smiled and rose up to greet him, but was rewarded with a bout of dizziness. She sank back down with a groan. Tom turned to her, smiling.
         ”It’s about time. Here, drink some of this,” he handed her a small earthen bowl, and she obediently took a sip. The liquid inside was strong and very bitter, and she very nearly spat it back out. Tom’s smile widened. “You’re not the only one who can play tricks, Elana. Now, unlike that liquor you gave me, that will help with the dizziness and overall weariness.”
         ”How do you know so much about my current condition?” she asked in a whisper, grimacing as she swallowed some more of the vile drink.
         ”I’ve dealt with it before. Are you done? Good.” He took the dish back and felt her forehead. “Very good. The fever is completely gone. Now, sleep it off and get your magic back. You’re going to need it, if those trolls were and indication of what you’re going to be up against.”
         ”Tom,” Elana said urgently as she laid her head back down. “When I woke up from the fever dream, I could have sworn I saw Kevin fighting those trolls. Could it have been? I mean-“
         ”No, Elana. It was probably just a side effect from the fever dream. Go to sleep,” he said in a comforting way. His ice-blue eyes, however, told an entirely different story, one of pain, sorrow, and a longing to be back where he really belonged.



(a/n: Work in progress! I really enjoy reworking this, and I think it's doing a lot better. Please review and tell me what you think! Thanks!)