Chapter Twenty-Two
"Oh, Sweet Elanora!
If not for you, what horrors might have been unleashed on us?
You sacrificed yourself to save us,
we who could not save ourselves.
In Fernan, Tuqsan and Nuli you saved us, Elanora.
Oh, that you could live to teach us of your way once more,
we should not throw it away as before …"
—The Pasegean Scrolls
As they entered the castle foyer, a strange feeling overcame Jareth. The room seemed familiar to him, as if it were the house of his parents. He walked through it dazed, searching for something to recognise.
Portraits hung on either side of the enormous doorway which opened onto the driveway. Jareth walked towards them, staring. "Alena!" he cried.
She rushed to his side. "What is it, Jareth?"
"I-I think I knew these people once! Maybe, whoever my real family were knew these people."
Alena laughed. "Jareth, do you know who these people are?" He shook his head. She laughed again. "They are portraits of King Garvin IV and Queen Lela of Chail … somehow, even if your family were nobility, I don’t think you could have met them. Chailan nobility has been dead for decades, excluding the royal family, and the Sonaro is the only true friend of Chail."
Jareth stared at his feet. "I guess. But, at least I’m trying to figure it out. It seems that everything about my life up to now has been a lie."
"That’s not true, Jareth! Everything about you is the truth … and you’ve begun to realise about your family, which is good. Maybe one day you’ll be able to find them."
Jareth banged the wall. "What for? So I can murder my sister?! Oh, Alena … you have no idea! I could never kill my sister, no matter what anyone said, prophecy or no prophecy!" He walked to the staircase, then turned back to Alena. "Are you coming?" Not waiting for an answer, Jareth began to climb the stairs. Alena joined him wordlessly.
When they reached the top, Jareth peeked around the corner of the stairway. "Strange," he whispered to Alena. "Why is the castle so quiet?"
"Maybe all the guards are outside, believing that they protect the castle so well that guards inside are not needed. Insane, but beneficial to our cause."
Jareth put his finger to her lips. "Shh … I hear something."
Together they crept down the hallway, following the noise. As they got closer, Alena whispered: "Moaning. As if in utter agony."
Lokath stood, glaring straight at Vela. "Traitor! Scum! Spy! You’ve been in with them all along, haven’t you? You’re the one who got me kidnapped, the one who hurt her! What did they do with her?! Where is she?! Where is she?!" He fell back to the ground, clasping the bone pendant to his chest.
"No, Lokath! It wasn’t me!"
"Who else, then? You were a mercenary, you were in Capurna … you captured me once, why not again?"
Vela stared at the ground. "You’re right. I did report back to the camp—" Lokath lunged for her, but Brianne held him back "—I didn’t do what you think I did! I felt bad enough the first time to go back there again. It was Catrin, Lokath. Catrin was angry with everyone, but you pushed her too far. When you sent her away she went to the camp—we’re sure of that."
"How could you know for sure?" he entreated Vela, anger melting.
Vela sighed. "When we attacked the mercenary camp, she was there. She-she tried to hurt Alena, but Jareth stopped her in time. I don’t know where she went, but she’s the one who reported us. You were just unlucky enough to be outside when they came for us."
Lokath stood, then shoved the carving into his pocket. He wiped a tear from his eye, then questioned her again. "Syrah?"
Brianne took his arm again. "We will never know what became of her. I know you loved her, Lokath … whoever she was. If she was lucky enough to be loved by you, I am sorry to have never known her."
He gave Brianne a watery smile, then spoke to Vela. "You were a spy, but I believe that you are now our friend. Thankyou, Vela, for helping me these past weeks." She smiled, glad to have regained his friendship. "Now," he grasped Brianne’s arm, "now we find Alena and Jareth."
Jareth crept to the giant double doors, touching them gently. They opened slightly, making Jareth jump. "They’re open!" he whispered, surprised. He continued to push them, Alena following close behind.
The room beyond was cold and beautiful. Tusheban carpets covered the floors, marble pillars lined the walls … the walls. Enchanting murals of swans, lakes, forests, streams … a bridge. Under the bridge floated a small red heart which seemed to be bleeding in the stream. To Alena, it looked as if it were real, but the heart looked out of place; as if it had been painted in later on. Now, as she looked at it, the bleeding heart made her feel the suffering of she who had painted it.
A moan came from a velvet heap on the floor. Jareth moved closer to the purple heap, and touched it. Startled, it jumped and whimpered at the pain. Blue hair cascaded across its face, and Alena brushed it back. The face was grey and haggard, and the eyes! Red like the heart which bled on the wall … Alena recognised the face. "It’s Chunia!"
Jareth was shocked. "Chunia?" Although he directed the question at Alena, the figure on the floor showed recognition. As she looked up at him, he saw her wound. "Sweet Elanora …" he murmured. Jareth reached down to touch it, and Chunia jerked away.
Some of her blood brushed onto his hand, and he tried to wipe it away. "You discard your own blood in such a fashion?" This was the first time he had heard her speak to him, and her voice sounded familiar, yet he could not place it.
"I should not discard it, if it truly were my blood."
Chunia emitted a choking laugh. "So quick you are to judge, Jarrad."
Jareth was startled. "Who entreated you the knowledge of my true name?"
Again, she laughed. "Should a girl not remember the name of her only brother?"
Realisation flooded Jareth’s body. The familiarity of the castle, the portraits, everything! Those people … they were my parents. This woman … she is my sister!
Alena stared at Jareth questioningly. "What does she mean, Jareth?"
He stumbled backwards for a moment, then murmured: "She means to say that she is my sister." Disbelievingly, Alena gasped.
Jareth walked over to his sister and knelt beside her. "How did you come to be the way you are?"
"I made a contract with Keori, master of all evil, to give me enough power to overthrow Syrianan rule. However, as you have guessed, his promises were empty ones. He has killed our aunt, who killed our parents and … spirited you away from us." Elanora bestowed the knowledge of Jarrad’s disappearance on Chunia, wanting her to finally believe that she had not caused his abduction.
Jareth narrowed his eyes. "Sister, destroy his power over you. Command him to remove his presence from your life … he must do as you wish, remember?"
Chunia looked at her brother, and smiled. "Yes, I remember." With this, she began to incant:
"Huani, Keori, masters of illusion,
remove my helpless body from the midst of this confusion;
Take away the spell which I cast not long before,
that incantation which placed me in this war.
You can no longer control me,
I shall break free;
Away from all your false promises and hopes,
You killed my aunt and many more, so now I have eloped.
Keori, away with you,
Huani, the same too;
Kill me if you must,
I no longer have want of your trust."
As she uttered the last word, Chunia began to choke. "No!" Jareth cried as she gagged on her own blood. Her face began to change, her skin return to it’s original milky colour, her hair to it’s chestnut brown, and her sapphire blue eyes returned.
Chunia gasped, then settled. "It is for the best, Jareth. You have killed me, brother. Let Sidhe’s prophecy wither and die … and let our family live once more." With this, her eyes rolled back into her head, and Chunia died.
Jareth wept for the family he had regained in their last moments of life, then lost once more. Alena placed her hand on his shoulder, comforting him. "You saved her, Jareth. She could not have been helped any other way." He knew it was the truth, and Jareth looked down at his sister, in her original form, beautiful as his mother, spirited as his father. Jareth remembered his life as Jarrad, and Alena turned his face to hers. "Are you ready to live your life as Jarrad once more?"
Jareth nodded. "Yes, I am."
Alena smiled, then choked back a sob. "Jarrad Tuqsan, I love you!" With this, she kissed him on the lips, holding him tight, never wanting to let him go.
A cough came from the doorway, and the couple separated. Lokath, Brianne and Vela stood there sheepishly. "Guess we missed the party, eh?" said Lokath.
Alena and Jareth laughed, then were startled by a cry from below. All five walked to the balcony, where a great crowd had gathered below. A body lay on the cobblestones, clearly dead. "Who might that have been?" Alena whispered to Jareth.
"Probably Chunia’s murderer," he replied solemnly, then was distracted by the crowd.
"Who are you that stands in our queen’s place?!" The crowd cried out to those on the balcony.
Before Jareth could answer, a single voice came from below. "Can you not see the resemblance to his father? He that stands above you is Prince Jarrad of Chail, returned to claim his throne!"
Jareth looked towards the owner of the voice, and saw a familiar woman with red-brown hair and purple eyes. He remembered the first time he had seen her, atop her horse in Alentio. Without her, he could not have followed his destiny in such a way which led him to his crown and his love. "And this, the woman that stands beside me is Princess Alena of Syriana—" the crowd gasped "—who you shall address as Queen Alena of Arsinuae, and I her King!" Alena squeezed Jareth’s hand then pulled him towards her, kissing him once more.
Catrin looked to the ground, then back at Alena. She would always hate her, for which reason she could not stay anywhere governed by Syrianan law. She turned away and began to push her way through the crowd. She reached the city gates just as Kurita, Danchi and Lutar rose. Tuqsan cheered at the beauty of the dusk, Catrin skulked into the night …
And Elanora smiled.
