Mortality: The Story of Mortanius

Chapter Twenty-Eight

He bade Moebius a good night and rode the carriage back to the Home of the Guardians. He fell asleep on the way there and woke up when the carriage driver opened the door. It was very late, already long past midnight. He thanked the driver and went inside.

The Home of the Guardians was not the same building from Mortanius’s youth. That building had been torn down long ago and a new Home built in its place, more attuned to its human inhabitants. The hallways were narrower, no longer needing to fit the wings of the vampire race, and there was a large kitchen and dining area, something the vampires had little use for. Each Guardian had a set of private rooms, although not all of them actually lived at the Home. Moebius spent most of his time at the Sarafan fort, and Palton chose to reside at an estate a short ride to the north.

Mortanius opened the door to his rooms and found candles already burning inside. Ellendra was asleep in a chair, and she started awake when Mortanius closed the door.

“Oh,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. “What time is it?”

“It’s past midnight. I didn’t know you’d be here.” He went over to one of his desks and draped his traveling cloak over the wooden chair. “I was at the fort, talking with Moebius.”

“I know, I saw you leave with him.” Ellendra sat up and stretched, then ran a hand through her hair. “Did you tell him what we found out?”

“Yes. I asked him if it was possible to see into the past, and he told he that he’s not sure. He’s going to work on it.”

“Okay. I spoke with Tiva, and Janarion talked to Palton and Altavian. Everyone knows what we discovered. Tiva wants to come to the island next time, but I told her it might be a few weeks until we plan another trip.”

“We should certainly wait until we build something more secure.” He paused uncomfortably, and added, “So we can more safely climb up and down the cliff.”

“I agree,” Ellendra said softly.

Mortanius sat down on one of his other chairs and leaned back with a sigh. He had intended to go straight to bed. “So did you wait here for me to tell me that?”

Ellendra pursed her lips and then shook her head. “No, I wanted … well, I wanted to talk to you about some things. I intended to during our trip back, but I couldn’t put my thoughts in order. I was still in shock, I think.”

“We all were.”

“It was different when Luyonda and Uldofus passed away. We didn’t see it happen, we weren’t there. But with Galhonen, being right there, seeing it with my own eyes ...”

“I know,” Mortanius nodded. “I know, it’s terrible.”

“When I heard Janarion yell, I hurried and looked over the edge,” Ellendra said, her voice tight. “And I saw that huge rock, and I saw it strike you ... and I screamed.”

“You cried out, I remember that.”

“I thought you were going to fall.” She sucked in a breath and then pressed her fist against her mouth. “I was so scared that you were going to die and I could do nothing to stop it.”

Mortanius got up from his chair and walked over to her. He put his hand on her arm and said, “But I didn’t die. We can’t dwell on what might have happened. It was a tragic accident, that’s all. I’m sure Janarion feels exactly the way you do.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Ellendra said, looking away. “He blames himself for what happened. I know it was an accident, Mortanius. That’s not what I wanted to tell you. It’s that … when I realized that you were okay, that you didn’t fall, I was so relieved. I was so happy that you weren’t badly hurt.”

She swallowed and looked up at him, her eyes shimmering. “And when I saw Galhonen falling, the first thing that came into my mind was to be thankful that he was the one who fell and not you.”

Mortanius closed his eyes for a moment and then took Ellendra’s hand in his. She rose from the chair and put her arms around him, being careful not to jostle his wounded arm. Resting her chin on his good shoulder, she whispered, “I feel ashamed. It’s like I took joy in his death.”

“We can’t control how we feel,” Mortanius said. “There are small moments of relief and joy in even the most terrible tragedy. That’s the nature of things.”

“It’s just that … I know I’m difficult sometimes. I know we bicker about stupid things. But when I thought I was going to lose you, I just ...”

“It’s all right,” he said, brushing his hand through her hair. “It doesn’t need to be spoken out loud.”

“Maybe it does,” she whispered.

In his more than three-hundred years of life, Mortanius had never married. He had never taken a lover for any long period of time. And of course, he had no children. He was not alone in this. None of the other Guardians had ever married or had children, except for Thesandrine, who did so before she ever became a Guardian. They had short relationships and affairs, but nothing that lasted very long.

The reason was simple; they lived so much longer than regular people that it was difficult to connect with them. Anyone they chose to marry would grow old and die while they remained healthy and young. Their life experiences were so hard for others to understand, and vice versa, that it created a psychological barrier that prevented them from forming the kinds of emotional bonds that led to marriage and love. They didn’t share the kinds of life experiences that brought people together. Basically, they didn’t have anything in common with normal people anymore.

The only suitable people to marry would be other Guardians, and that had its own problems, chief among them being the fact that there were three women and six men, although the new Guardian of Nature might be a woman. Sometimes, passionate romances flared between members of the Guardians, but they rarely lasted long. Thesandrine and Palton had once been lovers. Tiva and Janarion had a brief affair as well.

Again, the problem was their long lives. A marriage between normal people might last for fifty years, but a hundred, or two hundred? Mortanius didn’t believe it was possible to maintain a loving relationship for that long, especially with another Guardian. Their powers marked their personalities in ways that couldn’t be easily explained and made them incompatible with each other. Each of the Guardians was powerful, influential, and ambitious, and those qualities rarely worked well with others. And so, they remained unmarried.

The relationship between Mortanius and Ellendra was sometimes affectionate, sometimes combative, and sometimes romantic. The other Guardians knew of it and even joked about it, but Mortanius let them have their rumors.

“Would it be okay if I stayed with you tonight?” she asked.

“Of course,” Mortanius said.

“I don’t want to be alone,” she explained.

“I understand.”

All the candles were extinguished but one, which Mortanius set on a small table by his bed. Instead of returning to her room to change into her night clothes, Ellendra removed her blue dress and climbed into bed wearing the thin white shift she wore underneath. Mortanius undressed and lay down beside her, and then leaned over the edge of the bed to blow out the last candle, engulfing them in darkness.

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