Bladesinger - Keith Francis Strohm [36]
Aelrindel could see that the elf was taken aback by his words. He'd obviously come here expecting a fight. Faelyn's discomfiture passed quickly, however. His hands balled themselves into scarred fists, and he pressed forward into the room.
"You had to do it," the angered elf growled accusingly. "You had to choose him, didn't you?"
"He has a name," Aelrindel responded, trying to keep his voice even. "Taenaran is my son, and besides that, the boy has demonstrated a remarkable aptitude for the ways of magic-"
"Then let him become a mage," Faelyn interrupted, "instead of mocking our art with his presence."
"Taenaran mocks nothing," Aelrindel snapped then took a deep, steadying breath. He would gain little by allowing his temper to overmaster him. "The boy reveres-what we have given our lives to. He has the desire to give himself in service and the potential to do so as one of us," the First Hilt continued in a more even tone. "The other el'tael agree."
"Puppets," Faelyn shouted, "following their master's lead."
Aelrindel felt his blood run like ice through his veins.
"Careful, Faelyn," the First Hilt warned, his tone nearly as frigid. "You forget yourself."
Never before had his friend taken such a contemptuous tone in all the years that Aelrindel had led the bladesingers. Though he was loath to do so, the First Hilt was prepared to put a stop to such an attitude-quickly.
Faelyn must have finally realized that he had overstepped a boundary, as the angry elf pulled up as if Aelrindel's words had stung him.
"Apologies, First Hilt," Faelyn said, bowing his head as he did so. "I merely meant that many of the el'tael supported Taenaran against their own judgment out of respect for you."
"Hmm," Aelrindel said after a moment, feeling his lips curl into a rueful smile. "Is respect such a terrible thing to offer your First Hilt?"
"No, Ael-" Faelyn, then hesitated for a moment before continuing. "It's just that, well, you said it yourself earlier. We have remained true to our oath, passing down the art of our ancestors exactly as it was done from the oldest times-until now." Anger fell from the elf's face, replaced by a look of confusion and regret that nearly pierced Aelrindel's heart.
"Never before have we taught our art to someone with human blood. It is wrong, Aelrindel." Faelyn reached out and grabbed the First Hilt's hand with his own. "Look what happened to our beloved home once we opened our borders to the humans," he exclaimed. "The Dark Horde came and fell upon us like a curse from the gods. We have lived our lives in exile here, away from the humans and the other races. This is our way, and Taenaran, for all of his gifts, has no place here. There are others who think as I do, Ael, if you'd just-"
The First Hilt held up his hand, stopping Faelyn in midsentence.
"Others may think as you do, my friend," Aelrindel said, "but that does not make them any less wrong. The gods have placed Taenaran under our care, and we would do well to fulfill that burden."
Faelyn bowed his head as Aelrindel spoke. When the First Hilt had finished, he looked once more into his eyes with a gaze that flashed fire.
"Then you will not reconsider your decision?" the elf asked in a stony voice.
"I will not," Aelrindel responded. "I have spoken, both as First Hilt and as your friend."
"So be it," the elf growled, "but your decision will lead to darkness. Mark my words." This last Faelyn nearly shouted as he turned quickly from Aelrindel and stormed out of the First Hilt's home.
A gentle rain began to fall from the sky. Aelrindel sat there in silence, his thoughts keeping watch with the night.
* * * * *
Taenaran scurried out of the hooded figure's way, nearly slipping on the limb's wet bark as he did so. Several of the newly chosen tael had spent the rest of the evening celebrating their good fortune, and he had joined them for several glasses of rich elven wine-a decision that his slightly addled brain now regretted. The figure plodded onward, seemingly oblivious to the accident that it had almost caused. In the dim light