The Second Generation

“Father,” Gil said earnestly, “I’m not fooling myself. I know I won’t be able to do much to change things. I know Rashas intends to use me for his own evil ends and, right now, I don’t see any way of stopping him. But, do you remember what Uncle Tas said when he told the story about saving the gully dwarf from the red dragon? 'If s the small things that make the difference.' If I can manage, in small ways, to work against Rashas, Father..."

We raise our children to leave us.

Without even knowing it, Tanis had done so. He could see that now, could see it in the face of the boy—no, the man—standing in front of him. He supposed he should feel proud... and he did. But pride was a very small fire to warm his heart-numbing chill of loss.

White Robe was clearly growing impatient. She removed from her belt a jeweled silver wand.

Dalamar, seeing this, called out quietly, “Tanis, my friend, I am here, if you have need of my services.”

Tanis embraced his son one last time. He took advantage of their closeness to whisper. “You are the Speaker now, Gilthas. Don’t forget that. Don’t let Rashas and his kind forget it. Keep fighting him. You won’t fight alone. You saw the young elves who walked out of the meeting today? Win them to your side. They won’t trust you at first. They’ll think your Rashas’s pawn. You’ll have to convince them otherwise. It won’t be easy. But I know you can succeed. I’m proud of you, my son. Proud of what you did this day.”

“Thank you, Father.”

A last embrace, a last look, a last brave smile. “Tell Mother... I love her,” Gil said softly. He swallowed hard. Then, turning, he left his father—and went back to stand beside the White Robe. She spoke a word.

The two were gone.

Without a backward glance—Tanis couldn’t have seen anything anyway, blinking away the tears that blinded him—he walked back across the border. But he held his head high, as would any proud father whose son has just been made ruler of a nation.

He’d keep his head high until night, until darkness. Until he was home. Until he had to tell Laurana that she might never see her beloved son again....

“So,” said Dalamar, keeping in the shadows beneath the oak trees, “you couldn’t talk Gilthas into coming back with you.”

“I didn’t try,” Tanis returned, his voice harsh and grating. “He gave them his word of honor he’d go back.”

Dalamar regarded his friend intently a moment. “He gave them his word”

The dark elf shook his head and sighed. “As I said before, the son of Tanis Half-Elven is the last person Takhisis wanted to see sitting on the elven throne. If it is any comfort, my friend, Her Dark Majesty did not mean things to turn out exactly as they did. She is extremely sorry that we failed.”

Tanis supposed that news should bring him some consolation.

Dalamar removed the cloth, the cushion, the wine, the bread, and the cheese with a wave and a word. He slid his hands into the sleeves of his black robes.

“Well, my friend, have you made a decision? What will you do?”

“What I have to do, I suppose,” Tanis said bitterly. “I can’t let Rashas murder Porthios. And, once Porthios is free, I’ve got to stop him from murdering Rashas and the rest of the Qualinesti—none of which looks very promising.”

He walked out from beneath the oak trees and came to stand on the path that led back to Qualinesti. He looked into the sunlit, quivering leaves of the aspen trees of his childhood home.

“There are so many things I meant to teach you, Gilthas,” Tanis said softly, “so much I meant to tell you. So many things I meant to say....”

Dalamar rested his hand on Tanis’s shoulder. “You may not have said the words aloud, my friend. But I think your son heard you.”

Tanis turned away from Qualinesti, turned toward the path that led to darkness. He turned back to a house that, no matter how many people it held, would always be empty.

“Let's go,” he said.

Epilogue