Everqueen Reclamation - 60

The first thing that Arion remembers is wandering the forests.

Later, he will know that he came from the sky in a ball of fire, crashing to the earth. Later, his mother will convince the Queen to show him the vessel in which he arrived, and the Queen will give it to him to do with as he sees fit.

But Arion does not remember being in the vessel, nor does he remember crawling out of it even though it is obvious he did.

His earliest memories are of the wild forests, of wandering barefoot through the grass, under the cold light of the twin moons. He remembers how the creatures in the forest backed away from him, keeping their distance warily. How it felt as though the forest itself was uneasy of him.

In time, Arion knows that for a fact that it was. He is no mage, able to draw upon the winds of the Aethyr to reshape reality, but he eventually does learn to sense spirits and mages. And he knows the spirits of the forest were wary of him.

Arion does not blame them, and is glad they were generous enough to only be wary, and not to lash out at the unwelcome intruder on their land.

But he did not wander through the forests alone for long. It wasn't long before his mother found him.

Arion's first memory of his mother is of a tall, handsome woman with pale white hair, clad in armour with an enormous fur pelt over her broad shoulders, an axe as tall as he had been then held in one hand.

He had stared up at her, innocent and foolish, as yellow eyes surveyed him.

There had been others with her, speaking to her in a language that Arion did not understand. 

There had been a quiet argument, short but heated, before his mother had lowered her axe, and extended a hand to him.

Arion had taken it, and he had never regretted the decision.

His mother had brought him back to the Queen and the Senate, had persuaded them to let her raise him on the condition that he was her responsibility to put down if he proved a danger.

Not that Arion had understood any of that at the time, not knowing their language yet. He had simply clutched his mother's hand, and looked around the forest-city in awe, of gigantic trees shaped into homes, of other people wandering the city as she led him through the streets. Even as the Senate debated his fate, Arion had been more interested in their hall, of the circular array of seats literally growing out of the ground, not carved but shaped to serve a purpose.

But after that, Arion had learned the language of these people from his mother.

The first thing he had learned was her name: Kaia Whitemane. He had not fully understood what it meant or why she was called that at first, but understanding had come quickly enough.

The first thing he asks his mother after mastering the language is this.

“Why don't I have pointed ears?”

His mother had stared at him in shock from across the table, dropping her wooden spoon on the table. Then she shook her head and smiled.

“I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you learned Eltharin so quickly,” She said wryly. “You picked up everything else fast enough.”

“Why don't I have pointed ears?” Arion had repeated impatiently.

Kaia's smile faded. “Because you're not one of us, little one,” She said with a sigh, reaching out to grasp his shoulder. “You are not Eldar.”

Arion had said nothing to that, trying to process this.

A few days later, his mother had taken him to the queen's palace, at the very spire of the tree-city where they had made their home. 

There, under the wary eye of Queen Meril and her bodyguards, Arion had first laid eyes upon the vessel from which he came.

It was round like an enormous egg and metallic, scorched and charred. But there was a small door.

“We saw this land upon our world,” Queen Meril had said, her icy blue eyes considering him. “I sent my soldiers to investigate it and they realized something had emerged from the vessel. Then they found you.”

Arion knew it to be true. He didn't remember the vessel, but seeing it gave him a distinct sense of familiarity, for reasons he couldn't explain. He had traced his finger across the strange rune carved on the surface, a pair of vertical lines together.

“Do you know what the symbol means?” The Queen asked. 

“It means 'second’,” He said honestly. “That's all I know.”

“Nothing else?” 

“No.”

The Queen considered him for a moment longer before relenting. “Very well. It is yours to do with as you see fit.”

Not knowing what else to do, Arion had taken the vessel home, where he had taken it apart, piece by piece.

Later, while sparring with his mother, he had asked again. “Does the Queen not like me?”

Kaia had paused for a moment, propping her axe blade first on the ground, leaning against it. “She doesn't dislike you,” His mother had said eventually. “It’s…complicated.”

"But why?”

Kaia sighed. “The Queen is, or was, a priestess of the Goddess Lileath,” His mother had explained gently. “She is a powerful seer. She has not told me exactly why she is wary of you, but she is the one who ultimately convinced the Senate to let me raise you.”

Arion accepts his mother's words at the time, but eventually he will learn she was lying. Not about Queen Meril's nature, what she is capable of or even that she is the one who spoke in his defense to the Senate.

But that she had not told Kaia why she was wary of Arion. His mother had always known.

The years pass, and Arion learns as every other child does, for all that he grows faster. How to read and write, how to dig in the ground, to tend to crops and water them. How to respect the forest and the spirits, and the great World Spirit that they were all part of. He learns of the Aethyr, and its winds, and the dangers that lurk within.

That hard work is important, and that complacency and obsession will only let in the Great Enemy. Of the Enemy's shards and servants, foul demons with beguiling appearances and voices that conceal their evil nature, how they can bend others to their will with their dark powers.

The dark ones, those who came through the great gates, are Eldar who have lost sight of that, have allowed madness and greed to take them. They attack every few years, and Kaia is one of many who goes to fight them.

Despite Arion's protests, he is forbidden to help fight. “When you're older,” His mother said, her voice firm and unyielding. “But not now.”

Arion does not have many friends. Not because the other children don't like him, they do. Both the children actually his age, and any of the Eldar younger than fifty years. But the older Eldar always pull them away, forbid him to see them. 

Resentful, Arion encourages them to play with him anyway, to sneak out and talk to him, and be rebellious.

Then, one day, his mother sits him down and talks to him.

“You can't do this anymore, Arion,”

“Why not?” Arion snapped, resentful and angry. “Is it because I'm not an Eldar? Am I lesser?” He had accused her. “I know that's why they all hate me.”

Kaia's face had twisted in pain at his words, but she had not gotten angry. “No. I will not deny that there are those among us that feel that way. Far too many. But that is not why I'm telling you this.”

“No!” Arion had insisted with all the stubbornness of a child, stamping his foot and tears welling up. “You hate me too! You want me to be alone.”

“Oh darling,” Kaia had said softly, running her hands through his hair. “No. I'm sorry, but it's because of your power.”

This had stopped Arion's tears for a moment, catching him off-guard.

“My…power?”

“The power of the Aethyr lurks in you,” Kaia had said gently. “It grants you charisma, authority, the ability to sway others to your will. That is why the elders never let the children be with you. We can resist your aura, but the young ones cannot. They don't have the skill or experience.”

“No!” Arion had shrieked and stamped and cried. “That's not true! You hate me!”

But Kaia had been unmoved. She had sent him to his room, and forbidden him to see the other children, taking measures to prevent him.

But the next time his mother had gone to fight another raid, Arion had been unable to sneak out and talk to the other children again.

And he had tried to ignore what his mother had said, but eventually, he had realized with dawning dread that she was right.

The other children listened to him too easily. They were not his slaves but they still obeyed him when they should not. They argued too little.

They followed him, even the rebellious and the angry, the ones who didn't get along with anyone.

It was like…like he was one of the servants of the Enemy, who had honeyed voices and could make others obey them against their will.

Arion fled.

He left the other children behind and ran into the forest, as deep as he could go, and hid himself in a cave. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself, and sobbed.

For several days, he just stayed there in the cave and cried, eating and drinking nothing, until his mother found him.

“Arion!” Kaia cried, her voice full of anger and worry as she stormed into the cave. “Where have you been? You disobeyed me, and then you ran out here? What were you thinking, you foolish boy?”

“I'm a monster,” Arion sobbed. “Like the Enemy,”

All the anger drained out of Kaia's face in an instant. “Oh darling,” She whispered, kneeling to wrap her arms around him. “You're not a monster. You're my son.”

“But-”

“No buts,” Kaia said firmly. “You are my son.”

Arion hugged her back and cried.

After they go home, Arion does stay away from the younger Eldar. He focuses on his studies, learning to be scholar, warrior and farmer all in one. He excels at the last one in particular, and eventually joins his mother in her fight against the dark ones.

He finds some comrades along with the other soldiers. He fights with them and bleeds with them, and they bond. They are old enough to resist his aura, and for that Arion is relieved beyond words.

They are his friends, truly.

His mother is very proud.

And despite the obstacles along the way, Arion is happy.

Then one, day, a great golden ship appears in the sky…