The Past Has Teeth
by Simon W.
"I don't actually have any narrative memories of my life." Ithil'lyn had told Rory, just the other night when they had been discussing demons and ways in which they might be defeated. Rory had been somewhat surprised and very sympathetic but Ithil'lyn brushed it off. It was just a thing about the Returned that a lot of them had memory problems. It didn't actually mean anything. Or so Ithil'lyn told themselves. Rory's facial expression had seemed to suggest that she felt differently.
The waning crescent moon shown in the sky as Ithil'lyn sat in the clearing of the woods near their cabin. They still weren't sleeping well since the world tree root had burned and the Returned had lost their battle with Mehs' armies. They spent half the night roaming the forest trying to tire themselves out so that they could go home and get a few hours to sleep, only to be awake to greet the dawn. It was starting to wear on them. Their decisions were becoming more emotionally driven and less rational. Something was going to have to give soon, but they had no idea what it would be. They suspected it was going to be their sanity.
"What do you think, moon? Why don't I remember anything and why does it feel so uncomfortable?" Ithil'lyn didn't expect the moon, or anyone else, to actually answer the question but it felt better to say it aloud. They wondered if maybe they spent too much time alone between gatherings. But being alone felt so familiar, so comfortable, and yet also filled them with unease. It was hard to really explain.
Ithil'lyn didn't even notice that they were falling asleep, under the light of the moon. As they slept, they dreamed...
"See these tracks, Ithil'lyn, these are deer. And do you see these other tracks off to the side, those are a mountain lion." Aly'thena was not a tall Effendal but she towered over her child, larger than life. With her dark hair pulled into a sensible braid, she showed Ithil'lyn how to read the story of the forest's predators and prey from the marks they made on the ground. Both mother and child were dressed in sensible browns and greens for this day's hunt, as they always did when they were out working. Aly'thena saved wearing red and black for the rare occasions she needed to bring supplies back to the Citadel. She rarely took Ithil'lyn on those trips, preferring to keep her child away from a place that still didn't feel like home. The forests on the continent of Tear seemed like a much friendlier place for a child who had been born far away from the terror and chaos of war.
Aly'thena remembered that war and hoped that her child would never have to think of it as anything other than history. Her stepdaughter, Syl'thys, had a haunted look in her eyes from what she had seen as a small child. Aly'thena did her best to try and comfort the older girl but she knew she couldn't ever truly be Syl'thys' mother. Aly'thena had met Flen'dius while they were all sailing across the sea, hoping to escape. War brings people together in strange ways and Aly'thena and Flen'dius' love story was one of them. They'd both suffered and lost so much and they took solace in trying to make a family, just the three of them. It had been a surprise to everyone when a fourth member of the family had appeared after years of living on Tear. Aly'thena and Flen'dius had named the child Ithil'lyn and thought that maybe this was a sign of better times to come.
"Mama," whispered Ithil'lyn, "Syl'thys is sad and won't let me help. Please help her" As Aly'thena came to wakefulness she realized that her stepdaughter was weeping softly. She was surprised that anyone could hear her. She was not surprised at Ithi'lyn's desire to help, nor their inability too. Aly'thena went and held her stepdaughter and eventually Syl'thys was able to sleep. Aly'thena wondered if she would ever fully recover.
One day while Aly'thena and Ithil'lyn were hunting, they found a wounded bear. Some less adept hunter had tried to shoot it with a bow and hadn't gotten a clean shot. They watched the bear stumbling around a bit, clearly in pain, the smell of rot coming strong from its wound. Aly'thena motioned for Ithi'lyn to stay still while she went in to try and put the poor creature out of its misery. A stray footfall from across the path they were on caused the bear to turn around unexpectedly and, roaring, it swiped at Aly'thena. Although it was injured, its claws were still long and deadly. Ithil'lyn stood very still and very quiet like their mother had told them too and watched, horrified, as the bear mauled Aly'thena to death. Only after the bear had lumbered off did Ithil'lyn run to their mother's body and weep over it.
Aly'thena's death sunk Flen'dius into a deep depression. He spent his days drinking Effendal wine and raging at his children. Syl'thys did her best to shield Ithil'lyn from the worst of his rages but nothing could protect Ithil'lyn from hearing their father say, with absolute certainty, that Aly'thena's death was their fault. Ithil'lyn took to spending most of their time in the forests around their home, hunting and gathering like their mother had taught them, in order to be away from Flen'dius and his grief. Of course, this meant that Syl'thys bore the brunt of it.
Decades passed in this manner. The household was not a happy one. Ithil'lyn provided as much food as they could to the rest of the family. As the siblings got older, Syl'thys started to echo her father's accusations, telling Ithil'lyn that she also blamed them for Aly'thena's death. The grief and rage that Flen'dius had been marinating in for so long finally poisoned his eldest child completely. And so the family was stuck in this unhappy cycle for a long time. Flen'dius couldn't be bothered to arrange for Syl'thys to attend her Flight of Sparrows and so she kept the name of her childhood well into adulthood.
Another hunter who sometimes crossed paths with Ithil'lyn, also from the Jokiota tribe, was more motivated however. He finally realized the depths of the dysfunction in Flen'dius' household and gathered together friends and neighbors. He arranged for both Ithil'lyn and Syl'thys to finally go to the Citadel to do a Flight of Sparrows but at the last moment, Syl'thys decided to stay home with her father claiming he couldn't be left alone.
When Ithil'lyn returned home, with the flight name of The Inquisitive Rook, some of the grief seemed to finally lift from Flen'dius. He started to pay more attention to his now adult children and seemed to make an effort to be more present as a father. Ithil'lyn was delighted to finally feel like they had a family again and Syl'thys seemed to be less resentful. On the surface, they were happy for a time.
Ithil'lyn was out hunting, about a year after their Flight of Sparrows. A snap of a twig behind them made them almost smile. "You never could avoid doing that, could you Syl'thys." Ithil'lyn started to turn around, only to feel a sharp pain between their ribs.
"You killed our mother! And her death turned our father into a monster. And now, now that you have a shiny new name he decides to try and make up for decades of not being there for me!" hissed Syl'thys. The last thing that Ithil'lyn heard before darkness closed in on them was Syl'thys sobbing.
"Mama," Ithil'lyn whispered, "mama, Syl'thys is sad and won't let me help..."
Sunlight shining on Ithil'lyn's face was what finally woke them up. They had slept past dawn. There were still tears on their cheeks from when they'd been crying in their sleep.
"What a terrible dream that was," whispered Ithil'lyn. "Please Gods let it only have been a dream."
