Read Online The Korellian Odyssey: Requiem by Vance Bachelder - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Vance Bachelder
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here."
Korel announced in urgent tones, "I come bearing news of her ladyship's father. It is of extreme importance."
A voice called from deeper within, "Let him in."
He entered the apartments to see standing before him Arinnea, more beautiful than he had ever seen her. She was radiant before his eyes and her aspect seemed infinite, her hand multiplying the reflected rays of the morning sun coming through a side window, the light seeming to shine from herfingertips to manifest the power of creation as though all that she touched would come alive and rejoice at the caress; a lock of hair hung next to her eye, revealing a gaze that could know the potential of all things and that would cause an undying yearning in all that fell under it to be and become the vision of possibility spied within, a form so simple yet elegant in its ease of movement that all things first envied and then rejoiced in its aspect. All of this flooded into his mind, and in its wake Korel reflected momentarily about the absurdity of this revelation, how his vision of her had been so altered from one moment to the next. "I don't even know her," he mused. Yet his new awareness of Arinnea could not be denied, and Korel knew he loved her.
His new love mixed strangely with the profound sorrow he felt for Soren, both amplifying and tempering its bitterness. The feeling gripped him as he forced himself to say the terrible thing that must be said. "Lady Arinnea, I bring news of a terrible tragedy. Your father, Lord Soren, is dead."
Arinnea swayed on her feet and all the light in her being seemed to wink out, as if all of creation suddenly wept and then ceased to be. She cried for several minutes as silent tears fell from her downturned face. Korel explained the circumstances of her father's death as a mounting look of horror bent her features, yet she showed no surprise when at last he fell silent.
"An ill fate has arisen against my family. For many months I have been courted by a few powerful nobles, many of whom have strong ties to Toresten. I have not sought these attentions; they are a curious thing in that my suitors are above my station in almost every respect, and what object they seek to obtain through my betrothal I know not. Certainly love for me seems ever further from their minds. My father respected my desire to be free of betrothal as a lever for gaining station alone, for we have long believed in things greater than power. I have needed my father's protection in this matter because, although it is little known, my mother was not of noble birth. She passed away many years ago and my father and I have lived alone since. But now, with my father's passing, I will have little protection from a betrothal not of my choice." Silent tears began once again in a slow descent down her cheeks. Korel reached out and took her hand. The simple sensation of her hand in his was sublime, despite her sorrow, and he began a slow and tender study of it.
"Tell me of this ring on your hand. It is of very curious workmanship."
"My mother, as I said, was not of noble birth but did keep this heirloom, which has passed down the generations. I was told it is of great value," replied Arinnea. "She gave it to me before her passing."
"This ring appears to be Quenivorian," Korel mused in a pensive voice. The ring was braided, with two large sapphires inlayed upon it.
"I have never heard such. All I know is that it helps keep the memory of my mother alive. It's the only real thing of value I possess," Arinnea whispered softly.
In the silence that stretched between them, the sorrow for Arinnea that had loitered on the edges of his awareness suddenly expanded, welling up painfully to fill the entire confines of Korel's chest. His was a sorrow born of his own isolation from family as well as his newly developing feelings for Arinnea, and the sweet bitterness swirling inside his mind threatened to overwhelm him. Small, hot tears came to his own eyes and he fought to contain
Korel announced in urgent tones, "I come bearing news of her ladyship's father. It is of extreme importance."
A voice called from deeper within, "Let him in."
He entered the apartments to see standing before him Arinnea, more beautiful than he had ever seen her. She was radiant before his eyes and her aspect seemed infinite, her hand multiplying the reflected rays of the morning sun coming through a side window, the light seeming to shine from herfingertips to manifest the power of creation as though all that she touched would come alive and rejoice at the caress; a lock of hair hung next to her eye, revealing a gaze that could know the potential of all things and that would cause an undying yearning in all that fell under it to be and become the vision of possibility spied within, a form so simple yet elegant in its ease of movement that all things first envied and then rejoiced in its aspect. All of this flooded into his mind, and in its wake Korel reflected momentarily about the absurdity of this revelation, how his vision of her had been so altered from one moment to the next. "I don't even know her," he mused. Yet his new awareness of Arinnea could not be denied, and Korel knew he loved her.
His new love mixed strangely with the profound sorrow he felt for Soren, both amplifying and tempering its bitterness. The feeling gripped him as he forced himself to say the terrible thing that must be said. "Lady Arinnea, I bring news of a terrible tragedy. Your father, Lord Soren, is dead."
Arinnea swayed on her feet and all the light in her being seemed to wink out, as if all of creation suddenly wept and then ceased to be. She cried for several minutes as silent tears fell from her downturned face. Korel explained the circumstances of her father's death as a mounting look of horror bent her features, yet she showed no surprise when at last he fell silent.
"An ill fate has arisen against my family. For many months I have been courted by a few powerful nobles, many of whom have strong ties to Toresten. I have not sought these attentions; they are a curious thing in that my suitors are above my station in almost every respect, and what object they seek to obtain through my betrothal I know not. Certainly love for me seems ever further from their minds. My father respected my desire to be free of betrothal as a lever for gaining station alone, for we have long believed in things greater than power. I have needed my father's protection in this matter because, although it is little known, my mother was not of noble birth. She passed away many years ago and my father and I have lived alone since. But now, with my father's passing, I will have little protection from a betrothal not of my choice." Silent tears began once again in a slow descent down her cheeks. Korel reached out and took her hand. The simple sensation of her hand in his was sublime, despite her sorrow, and he began a slow and tender study of it.
"Tell me of this ring on your hand. It is of very curious workmanship."
"My mother, as I said, was not of noble birth but did keep this heirloom, which has passed down the generations. I was told it is of great value," replied Arinnea. "She gave it to me before her passing."
"This ring appears to be Quenivorian," Korel mused in a pensive voice. The ring was braided, with two large sapphires inlayed upon it.
"I have never heard such. All I know is that it helps keep the memory of my mother alive. It's the only real thing of value I possess," Arinnea whispered softly.
In the silence that stretched between them, the sorrow for Arinnea that had loitered on the edges of his awareness suddenly expanded, welling up painfully to fill the entire confines of Korel's chest. His was a sorrow born of his own isolation from family as well as his newly developing feelings for Arinnea, and the sweet bitterness swirling inside his mind threatened to overwhelm him. Small, hot tears came to his own eyes and he fought to contain
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