Chapter Eleven Garson and Princess Loreena: Garson Gives Up

Garson Hannigan had never lived under the illusion that he was of any use to anyone. He knew he wasn't bright; even his mother secretly agreed to that. When he'd been a boy, she'd had the castle's healers examine him to try and determine why he was so slow. Their results had been inconclusive, and Garson knew his mother hoped he'd been so young that he'd forgotten the tests. He hadn't.

            He'd heard the whispers. He was well aware of what others thought of him, including her. He had been foolish to think he could be worthy of Princess Loreena. He'd seen the absolute revulsion in her eyes when he'd kissed her each time. She desired Hector Ira, not him. And if he was being honest with himself, he understood why.

            Hector had been brave, kind, and intelligent. He'd had the beasts' trust and respect. He could have easily brought the Princess their favor. Garson could supply her with nothing. He cowered from the creatures. He feared them. He wasn't even certain as to why the Princess had invited him along. He was more of a burden to her than anything else.

            So late the night following their encounter with the centaurs, after everyone else had fallen fast asleep, he crawled out of his sleeping sack and wandered through the forest, far enough away that the others wouldn't hear him and wake. He wished he could have said farewell. They hadn't even noticed how quiet and withdrawn he'd been all day long as he'd considered his plan. Or if they had, they hadn't commented on it. He wasn't sure which scenario was more hurtful.

            He sighed. His chest tightened at the thought of what he was about to do.

            "Varclave," He called out into the night. HIs voice was quiet. He didn't know if simply calling the man's name could summon his spirit, but he hoped so. He required the dead man's assistance.

            "Vincent," He tried again, a little louder. "Vincent Varclave!" He nearly shouted.

            "What do you want?" An angry, familiar voice groaned from behind him. "Even spirits need their rest, you know."

            Garson spun towards Vincent, whose face was twisted in annoyance at the boy who'd had the audacity to bother him at such an indecent hour.

            "I have a question for you." Garson announced.

            Vincent sighed in exasperation. "And this question is so urgent that it could not wait until morning?" He grumbled.

            "Do you have any knowledge of the elvish charms?" Garson blurted out. He had to force the words past his lips quickly before he changed his mind and darted back to the campsite.

            "I know many things, boy." Vincent replied impatiently. "You came to me in the dark hours of the night for a lesson on the charms?" He sounded angry.

            "No, I...I already know about one of the charms, and the power that it possesses. The leaf charm...It grants life to any being." He said. He swallowed past the lump that rose in his throat.

            "That is true," Vincent agreed.           

            "Do you need the...the body for the charm's magic to work?" He inquired.

            "No," Vincent shook his head. "But you'd need some part of the person...Such as a strand of their hair, or even a piece of their clothing would suffice."

            Garson reached into his pocket and pulled out the tiny strip of cloth he'd stolen from the Princess's sack. He'd watched her hold it and run her fingers over it. Whenever she did, an expression of longing would cross her face. It had been a part of Hector's shirt; the one he'd worn the day he'd died in her arms. She kept it as a reminder and a source of comfort. His death had affected her more than she would ever admit to. She still wore the ring he'd given her the night of their betrothal...

            Garson held it out for Vincent to inspect.

            "I want to resurrect Hector Ira." He told him.

            "Do you have a leaf charm?" Vincent asked skeptically.

            Garson nodded. He reached into his sack again and pulled out the cold brass leaf, which dangled from its long, thin chain.

            "My mother had an affair with a Lovedie forest elf before I was born."  He explained how he'd obtained the rare gem. "They tend to give charms as gifts to the humans they fancy." He shrugged. "They must assume the humans will take it as nothing more than a pretty token; that they won't understand its true powers.

            "My mother never seemed to, or else she would have attempted to bring back my father years ago.

            "She never really wore it. She hid it in one of the drawers of her dresser so that I would never stumble across it, and then I suppose she forgot all about it."

            Vincent eyed the charm. "You do realize." He said slowly, as though speaking to someone incompetent. Garson had become accustomed to that tone. "There are far reaching consequences for what you plan. You'll die in the process." He warned. "The leaf charm demands a life for everyone it grants."

            Garson nodded stoically.

            "I'm aware." He said. His voice didn't shake as he'd feared it would.

            "I have to ask, out of curiosity," Vincent said. "Why would you surrender your own life for Hector Ira's? What is he to you?"

            "This isn't about me." Garson shook his head. "I hardly knew Hector. But...Lor loved him, and...." He sighed heavily. "I will never amount to anything, but he could aid in the rescue of the unicorns and he...He can make Lor happy. She's spurned all of my advances."

            "You think everyone would be better off without you?" Vincent demanded.

            Garson gritted his teeth. "Perhaps not better off, but no worse." He amended. "I have nothing to contribute...Not to this mission, not to Alcwyn...I am nothing."

            "Think of your mother, Garson." Vincent said quietly.

            "My mother thinks...knows that I'm a useless fool!" Garson snapped. His mind was set; he wasn't going to allow some ancient spirit to alter his designated course.

            "You are the only family she has." Vincent reminded him. "There is no greater pain than the loss of a child."

            "How would you know?" Garson challenged. "You never had a family. You have no children."

            "On the contrary; I have many, many children." Vincent corrected him. "I have experienced the depth of a parent's love hundreds of times over. Your death would destroy your mother.

            "And think of Keeva. She was never close with her elder brother, and her twin brother has forsaken her. You are the closest remaining thing she has to one.

            "And Loreena may not love you in the manner in which you desire, but she does love you dearly."

            "Given the choice, she would choose Hector." Garson replied with confidence.

            "Did you ask her that? Is that how she answered?" Vincent questioned skeptically.

            "Why do you even care?" Garson groaned. "You should be pleased. I thought you liked Hector. You were his mentor."

            "I liked Hector just fine." Vincent said. "I was quite fond of him, and was saddened by his death, but...He died a noble death, defending what he loved. If there is a proper manner in which to die, then that is it. His life was short, but not cruel. In some ways he lived a thousand lifetimes, and I am one who can attest to what that is like.

            "He lived a full life, and yours has barely yet begun. Don't sacrifice it now for a man who, excuse me for being frank, dug his own grave. You have more to offer than you realize, Garson. You are full of untapped potential."

            Garson laughed bitterly. "You're trying to talk a dead man off a cliff, Varclave, and it isn't going to work. Tell me what I need to do to trade my life for Hector's. That's what I called you here for."

            "You're awfully demanding and impatient, boy." Vincent huffed. He sighed. "You'll need to kindle a fire." He instructed.

            Silently, Garson went about collecting suitable firewood. He dragged it over to where Vincent hovered.

            Vincent watched on, arms crossed, gaze heavy with disapproval, as Garson struggled to start a fire. When he finally got one going, albeit a weak one, Vincent instructed him to toss the leaf charm and the piece of Hector's garment into the flames.

            "Do you have a knife?" Vincent inquired of him.

            Garson nodded and pulled out the small knife he carried in his pants pocket. It had belonged to his father. He wondered briefly if he would meet him in the afterlife. Would he be a disappointment to him as well? He wasn't the strong, confident, capable son every father dreamt of...

            "The spell requires a drop of your blood." Vincent said. The words came out terse. "Cut into your palm, and hold it over the fire until a single drop falls.

            "You'll feel yourself growing rapidly weaker, and then you'll feel nothing at all. It won't hurt, I promise. It's one of the most painless manners in which a person can pass." Vincent reassured him. His voice was gentler than before.

            Garson merely nodded. With a shaking hand, he pressed the knife against the soft skin of his palm and smoothly glided it across. He gasped at the pain and watched as blood bubbled up to the surface. He held his hand up so that none of the blood would fall and went to stand beside the fire. He stretched out his arm and closed his eyes.

            "Garson?" Princess Loreena's voice shouted his name. She sounded frantic and worried.

            Garson's eyes snapped open and he spun around to face her. "Lor?"

            She approached him slowly, warily. "What are you doing?" She demanded. She glared at him and then shifted her gaze to Vincent.

            "Why did you appear to me in my dreams?" She asked him sharply. She turned on Garson again. "I want to know what's going on, Garson."

            Off in the distance, a griffin screeched in the night.

            Garson ignored the Princess and spun back to face Vincent. "What the hell?" He cried. "I thought you'd agreed to help me! Why did you bring her here? She shouldn't have to witness this!"

            "Witness what, exactly?" Princess Loreena grabbed Garson's arm and forced him to look at her. "What are you up to, Garson?" She glanced down at his bleeding hand. "Did you cut yourself?" She asked him. Without waiting for a reply, she tore off the right sleeve of her dress and wrapped it tightly around his hand. He winced.            

            "Loreena isn't here to witness anything, she's here to prevent it from ever occurring." Vincent told Garson.

            "You son of a-"

            Princess Loreena's slap across his face cut off the rest of what Garson had intended to say.

            "I said I want to know what you're doing!" She reminded him gruffly. "I imagine it's something entirely foolish." She muttered.

            "Why? Because I'm a fool?" Garson yanked free of her hold.

            "No, Garson, not because you're a fool. Because it's the dead of night, and you're in the middle of the forest with a fire and the spirit of Vincent Varclave. You're clearly doing something mischievous that you didn't want me to be made aware of."

            "I..."

            "He intended to sacrifice himself to restore life to Hector Ira." Vincent interrupted.

            Princess Loreena's eyes widened. Her mouth opened and then snapped shut.

            "You were what?" She exploded. She slapped him again, harder. Then again, and again. "What the hell is wrong with you?" She spat. Her spittle landed on his cheek. He flinched. "How could you...Why would you..."

            "He thought you'd rather have Hector than him; that Hector's life was worth more than his." Vincent supplied.

            "You traitor!" Garoon screamed. He glared at Vincent. He wished he could throttle a spirit.

            "Garson, how could you think that?" Princess Loreena asked. Her fury was rapidly replaced by shock and sadness. "You're my family, Garson. You and your mother; you're family. I'd never chose Hector over you. Yes, I miss him, but his life isn't worth yours."

            "You're just saying that." Garson mumbled. He stared down at the ground. "You don't really meant it."

            Princess Loreena's hand cupped his chin and lifted his head. She brought her face close to his, so that they were inches apart. She pressed her lips gently against his, and her free hand curled around his neck and her fingers buried themselves in his hair. The kiss grew deeper. Garson's arms wound around the Princess's waist and he tugged her impossibly closer.

            They broke apart at the sound of a rising chorus of howls. Drawn to the fire's light and warmth, the pack of the giant, mutinous wolves appeared at the edges of the clearing. They circled the Princess and Garson. Their jaws dripped with yellow saliva, and they pulled back their lips to expose their elongated fangs in hideous snarls. Their yellow eyes glowed with menace.

            Garson's hand slid down to enrapture the Princess's. His entire body had gone rigid at the sight of the wild beasts; the only ones who couldn't be reasoned with, which made them all the more dangerous.

            Princess Loreena whistled, and Gideon whizzed through the trees into the clearing. He landed on the Princess's shoulder.

            The Princess dropped Garson's hand and stepped tentatively towards the wolves. Garson gasped as she reached out and touched one of the growling beasts' nose. Her lips moved, but no audible sound was produced.

            Garson stared on in amazement as the wolf shrank down to the size of an average beast of its kind. Princess Loreena walked in a slow circle and briefly touched each of their muzzles. Some of them stumbled backwards as though in fear, and whimpered. All watched her approach with wary eyes. One by one, at her contact, each of the wolves reverted to their original form. Then Princess Loreena stepped back and closed her eyes. She mumbled a few incomprehensible words, and the wolves vanished. There was no trace of them left.

            "Well done, Loreena." Vincent Varclave said approvingly.

            "Where did they go?" Garson wondered. "What did you do to them?"

            "I reversed their mutations. I transformed them back into regular wolves." Princess Loreena informed him. "And I sent them to another forest, far away from human civilization; a place where they can live as the beasts they were born to be."

            "Your magic is strong already, and I can feel mine diminishing." Vincent murmured. As he said this, he slowly faded from sight, but not before saying. "It wasn't a true leaf charm. It wouldn't have worked."

            Princess Loreena and Garson turned back towards each other.

            "I burned the strip of Hector's shirt." Garson confessed. "I'm sorry, Lor."

            "I don't care about the cloth, Garson." She told him. "I care about you."

            "You kissed me." He murmured.

            "I did." She'd done it to convince him that he wasn't worthless or useless; that he meant something to her. Just what he meant, however, she was no longer certain of.

...

            They all gathered in the largest clearing in the center of the forest where the Princess and her companions had first encountered Errol. Most of the beasts had managed to crowd around the Princess, but the dragons were too large to fit inside the clearing, and so they formed a tight circle around it, their heads and long necks poking through the trees.

            Vincent floated beside the Princess. After she enunciated her plan to the beasts, he would announce his imminent departure.

            The beasts all stared at the Princess expectantly, and she was anxious under their combined gazes. Garson reached over and squeezed her hand, and she appreciated the physical warmth and pressure of the touch, as well as the sense of calmness and reassurance it provided.

            "I will lead the traders into this clearing." The Princess had begun after all the beasts were present and accounted for; Gideon had taught her a spell that allowed each beast to hear her words in their own tongue. "At which point you will commence your attack. Not every beast need participate, for there are three hundred of you and only two hundred traders. Those who do not, however, should remain prepared should we require their assistance. Kill every trader in sight, and allow none to escape. Spare only Landron Oscowel. Capture him, but do not kill him.

            "You all have your differences, and your past conflicts. You must set those aside, not only for the battle, but permanently. You are all Vincent Varclave's children, and that means you are all family. Family protects and loves one another. It's your duty to do such. If you see one of your brothers or sisters, whether they be your species, or your former rival, at the mercy of a trader, then you aid them. You don't question it, you don't hesitate, you help." She said firmly. "You're magic is stronger when you're united. You've all long since forgot that, but it's time for you to remember."

            As Princess Loreena watched, several members of each species stepped forward. The Princess recognized Armon and Arnon among the dragons, Agrius the centaur, Forge and Hawn among the griffins, and several of Keeva's former family; those who had defended the Princess and her quest. The beasts exchanged looks and more came forth, spurred by the bravery of the first ones.

            "Thank you." The Princess said quietly but sincerely.

            Vincent's gaze roamed across the clearing. He smiled at his children.

            "I love each and every one of you." He told them. "Some of you have known me since the day I brought you to this forest, others from the days of your birth, but I know all of you by name and appearance. I consider myself your father, and am proud to bear the title of your savior. But now you must save yourselves.

            "I am saddened to tell you all that soon I will be departing. I've lived several lifetimes and had a very extensive afterlife. I am tired, and at long last must rest."

            The beasts cried out, sounding pained.

            Vincent sighed. "I know. I am sorry, truly. I never aspire to hurt you, my sons and daughters, but know that I leave you in capable hands. I've named Loreena Noor the Guardian of the Varclave forest. She will take my place as the watcher and protector of you and your sanctuary."

            The beasts grumbled at that, and the Princess turned to stared disbelievingly at Vincent. He'd failed to mention making her the next Guardian of the forest. She would accept the responsibility. She supposed she had done so the day she'd determined to save the unicorns.

            Princess Loreena recovered quickly. "When I arrive with the traders I will send out a call; a whistle; so that you may know that I am coming, and within a three mile span of the clearing. I shouldn't be gone for more than seven days time." She anticipated.

            "That is all...For now." She dismissed them.

            The beasts slowly turned and padded away, their tails swishing behind them. A few of them lingered, their eyes trained on the Princess. Some looking skeptical, some excited, and some...She couldn't distinguish the expressions on their faces. The dragons were particularly difficult to read. None spoke to her except for Armon.

            "I believe in you, and in your cause. And I...I'm glad the Wise Old One decided not to devour you after all." He muttered quietly.

            Princess Loreena offered him a small smile. "I appreciate that, Armon." She told him.

            His eyes lit up. "You remembered my name." He said.

            "Of course." She replied. "A mother knows all her children." It was the first time she'd claimed the beasts as her own, and doing so felt...right.

            When Armon, too, had left, Varclave turned to Windee.

            "Do not think I didn't recognize you, Windtree. You were once one of my own."

            Windee stiffened. "I was." She acknowledged. "I...I'm sorry, Varclave." She sounded timid and ashamed.

            "Do not apologize, child. Are you happier as a human than you were as a fairy?" He inquired. He reached out and put his hand under her chin. His touch was light and sent a shiver down her spine.

            She managed a nod. "I am." She reached her hand out blindly and Keeva grasped it.

            Varclave's eyes drifted to their clasped hands. "I see." He murmured. He looked back up into her eyes. "Humans have surnames." He commented. "Mine was given to me by the beasts themselves; varclave means father in Dragonese. No one else has ever bore this name.

            "But whether you be fairy or human, you are my daughter, and a daughter should bear her father's name. You would do me a great honor by taking my name and becoming Windee Varclave." He told her.

            Windee beamed. "Windee Varclave." She repeated. She felt a flash of disappointment, then, because she hadn't chosen her human first name; Keeva had. She hadn't chosen her last, either.

            Then again, in a manner she had. She could have rejected the names that served as her identity as a human, but she hadn't. Because she'd known, inherently, that it was who she was; who she'd always been.

            "I love you, Windee Varclave." Keeva whispered. 

            "I love you, Keeva Carver." Windee whispered.

            Keeva's hand came to rest on the back of Windee's head. She pulled Windee to her, and their lips found each other in a sweet kiss.

            Vincent was smiling as he faded from sight.

            The Princess looked to Garson. She gasped as he wrapped an arm around her waist. He drew close and dared a quick kiss. She surprised both of them when she returned it with one of her own.