User blog:Leea/The Tale of Voronwe, Chapter 47

Previous Chapters
1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th, 12th, 13th, 14th, 15th, 16th, 17th, 18th, 19th, 20th, 21st, 22nd, 23rd, 24th, 25th, 26th, 27th, 28th, 29th, 30th, 31st, 32nd, 33rd, 34th, 35th, 36th, 37th, 38th, 39th, 40th, 41st, 42nd, 43rd, 44th, 45th, 46th

4th Era 130, 5th of Evening Star, Summerset Isle
As they walked back to the house, they talked some more about Orthendar's report.

"Anything else he said?" she asked, idly pinching off a leaf from a tree they passed.

"Yes. Talgando has married." he replied, glancing over.

"Who's Talgando?"

He smiled self-conciously. "I forget that I've never told you. He's the isle of Pyandonea's Priest of Mara."

"You act like a priest getting married is something that rarely happens," she remarked, beginning to disect the leaf.

"Priests can indeed get married. I'm sure its quite commonplace. However, brown-haired ones don't."

Curwe frowned. "I'm failing to see the significance of his hair color."

"There's an old, old superstition on Pyandonea that someone with brown hair is very bad luck. Its been around for as long as anyone can remember."

Her frown turned into a scowl. "And where is the proof that brown hair is a bad thing?" she asked flatly.

"A long, very long time ago, a Maormer with brown hair had very bad luck. Its been stuck in everybody's minds since."

Curwe's scowl deepened. "I think that's the worst, most dumb superstition I've ever heard!"

He shrugged and his lips twisted in a small, apologetic smile. "I never said it was logical," he said, seating himself on the front doorstep.

"Damn right it isn't." she huffed, sitting down next to him. Glaring over at him, she began, "I sincerely hope that you've never--"

"Of course not," he interrupted, waving his hand dismissively. "I saw him for what he is: a sincere, honest man. I could care less about his hair color. Most of the Liberators think the same."

"You say 'most.' That means that there are those that do believe in the superstition, I take it."

"Yes, unfortunately." he admitted, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.

"Then why not do something about it?" she asked, the scowl still on her face.

"Like what?"

"Like telling them what they believe is wrong."

Balasian rolled his eyes. With them being white and featureless - no recognizable iris or pupil - the motion was only detectable by the movements of his eyelids. "They are already under the oppression of Orgnum, who dictates most of everyone's lives. The Liberators are Liberators because they want the freedom to make their own, lawful choices. The moment I start dictating what someone can or can't think, I start becoming like Orgnum. Besides, the members that believe in that superstition are few and far between. They pose no threat to the other Liberators...or Talgando himself."

Her eyebrows rose up her forehead. "Are you sure about this? They might try to 'protect' his new wife from him."

He shook his head. "There's a very slim chance of that happening at all...and in the event that it does happen, they've got someone looking out for them."

"Really? The couple's got a bodyguard?"

He smiled crookedly. "Of a sort. If someone did try to 'protect' Talgando's wife from him - even though he is the most gentle man I've ever met - the aggressor would have to be a very powerful mage."

Curwe tilted her head to the side. "Why is that? He's got wards in place?"

"No. They've got Orthendar. I don't know if it's just me, but it seems like his power grows by the decade."

Her lips pursed together as her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Orthendar? Is Talgando his brother or something?

"No. They're not even remotely related. Talgando married his ex-girlfriend."

"Oh." Her face fell. "Well...That's...That's awkward."

He smiled. "It could be...if it had gone any differently. He said he gave them his full blessings and protection."

"Why did they split?" she wanted to know.

"He said it was because he was afraid of hurting her. As a ghost, he is composed of pure energy. He touches someone out of a dream - where it is safe for him to do so, unless he wills it otherwise - and they could very well be injured...or killed. It would almost be like touching a lightning bolt."

"Wow." was all she seemed able to say.

"Yeah," he agreed, leaning his head on his hands.

"So that was the total reason they broke up?"

"Mostly," Balasian conceeded. "He also said that after thirty years, dreams were no longer enough for her. She wanted more - to be able to touch him out of a sleep-state - but he couldn't give it to her without that likelyhood of hurting her or even causing her death."

"Wow. They stayed together a long time after his death." Curwe said, surprised. She tucked a tendril of her blond hair behind her ear. "I can't beleive it, though. I don't know if I'd be able to on if I were him."

Balasian looked over. Curwe was gazing sadly at him. He reached an arm over her shoulder and pulled her close, resting her head against his shoulder. "I don't know, either. Very likely not. But he says he can do it, because she is happy...both of them. Talgando deserved someone as thoughtfull as her, and she needed a kind man such as him. Now Orthendar doesn't have to worry about accidentally hurting her. That, and her happiness, were the most important to him."

Curwe hugged him, her arms wrapping around his chest as she continued to lean on his shoulder. She whispered, "I guess I can understand that, though I am very glad I am not in his position."

He kissed the top of her head, his lips touching her hair. "Me, too."