Work Text:
Mirtul 1474
Elsewhere
The rain stops immediately.
Eliwyn folds up the umbrella and sets it on table next to the frail full of gifts. One of Zandra’s whirligigs on the shelves whirrs softly in the perfect quiet.
“Hello?” Eliwyn calls out.
Wyll tugs on Eliwyn’s sleeve. “Can I go play?”
“Yes, go on dearest. But remember, only ten minutes.”
Wyll scampers off into the garden. Eliwyn calls out once more. Only silence answers.
Well, perhaps Zandra is out beyond the garden or in the cellar or having a bath. Eliwyn huffs a laugh as she realizes how intrusive on Zandra’s life this little arrangement might actually be. Hopefully their gifts will make enough of an apology. They can’t exactly leave now that they’re here. Not until ten minutes have passed.
Eliwyn sets out the various things she brought with her then looks about the cottage. A shimmering on the shelf in the sitting room catches her eye. As she approaches, the shining fades. It is now nothing more than an ordinary spool of twine. Eliwyn takes it from the shelf to inspect it. Was it simply a trick of the light? She places it back on the shelf where she found it. Eliwyn’s gaze flits over the other myriad trinkets sprinkled here and there amidst the books.
On one shelf lies a long and strangely carved stick. Two small urns sit atop a short stack of books. There is also a press for making wax seals. The press features a raven clutching two stars in its claws. A block of midnight blue wax sits next to it.
Further down is a pair of spectacles. She cannot recall ever seeing Zandra wear glasses. Eliwyn perches them on the bridge of her nose and immediately yanks them away as her vision distorts so terribly that her head aches. The glasses quickly find their place back on the shelf.
Then, she spies something that draws her attention like a moth to a candle. It is such an ordinary item, too. Just a simple, small black box. Yet Eliwyn cannot help her fingers from lifting it off the shelf and opening the top.
Inside, atop a black velvet cushion, lies the most beautiful ring she has ever seen. The delicate strands of silver intertwine in an intricate weave. Interspersed are what appear to be tiny shards of diamond. Her fingertips inch toward the beckoning band…
“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.”
Eliwyn whips around. A vaguely familiar young man stands just near the table. “Oh,” she breathes. “It’s you! The umbrella seller! Er…” She cannot quite recall his name.
“Irdar,” he says with a slight bow of his head. “I’m glad to see you here, Eliwyn.”
It is then that she notices he is hurriedly tucking in his shirt and buttoning his waist coast. Eliwyn smirks and lifts an eyebrow. “I take it the ten minute rule does not apply to you, then?”
Irdar’s entire visage goes up in a crimson flame of embarrassment. “Ah…no, thankfully, it does not.” He buttons the last button and passes a hand over his hair, then his eyes drop to the box in Eliwyn’s hands. “It would probably be best if you put that back. You don’t want to accidentally touch it.”
“Why not?” Eliwyn asks.
“Because that ring is the reason I’m stuck here.” Zandra comes around from behind Irdar. Her hair is neat and tidy in its usual long plait but there is the slightest hint of afterglow about her. She takes the box from Eliwyn, shuts it with a snap, and places it on an even higher shelf.
Eliwyn opens her mouth to ask another question, but just as the words form Wyll comes into the cottage with sluggish steps.
“It’s so hot out there,” he says, using the corner of Eliwyn’s apron to wipe away the sweat pouring down the side of his face.
Zandra chuckles. “Yes, it’s a bit of a scorcher today. Sit down and I’ll get you some water.”
The outside of the cup immediately fogs with condensation as the water from Zandra’s pitcher fills it.
Wyll downs it greedily. “It’s so cold! Eliwyn you try!”
Indeed, the water is as cold as if it had come straight from a bucket left out in winter’s chill.
Zandra chuckles again at Eliwyn’s scrunched face. “It’s an enchantment of my own creation. Anything poured into the pitcher is instantly cooled. I detest tepid water.”
“She’s brilliant, isn’t she?” Irdar murmurs.
His gaze upon Zandra is warm with admiration. Zandra presses a hand to her cheek and averts her eyes, but peeks back at him with a shy sort of smile.
Eliwyn stares into the bottom of her glass feeling very much as if she is intruding on this moment between them. “So,” she says, “the ring…”
“Oh. Yes. That blasted ring,” Zandra says, growing suddenly grave. “It came to me when I was at a carnival with some of my friends. It was a prize for winning one of those ring toss games.”
Zandra then quickly explains the whole saga, for the time for Eliwyn and Wyll to leave is approaching. The ring is what’s known as a Ring of Faerie. It’s a rather rare item that originates from Zandra’s home planet of Oerth. Normally, the rings are given as gifts from elves to other races who gain their particular trust and friendship. Such rings are supposed to grant the wearer the abilities of the elves, but somehow this particular ring was cursed by an archfey and put in possession of the carnival owners who then offered it as a trophy.
Poor Zandra was completely unsuspecting, thinking she had merely gotten a pretty trinket for her winning luck. At the urging of her friends she slipped the ring on and…
“…I found myself here with no way of leaving. Not that I’ve been able to find, anyway. Irdar’s efforts have been fruitless, too.”
Eliwyn looks to Irdar. “Is there no one in our world who can help?”
“I’ve made all sorts of inquiries with every archmage I can find in city registries,” he says with a shake of his head. “My letters have either gone unanswered or I’ve been told they’re too busy or simply not interested.”
“Ridiculous,” Eliwyn says with a scoff. Then, she sighs. “Well, I shall keep my eye out for a more helpful mage. Should I ever meet one who is particularly brilliant I shall be sure to send them your way. And who knows, maybe someday I’ll even happen upon Elminster!”
The three laugh at the absurd notion, but their chortles are soon drowned out by the growing sound of spattering rain.
It’s time to go.
As always, Eliwyn and Wyll bid farewell and open the umbrella.