SECRETS OF ELVENDALE II

CHAPTER VI

"I... NEVER FELT QUITE THE SAME WAY AS ROSALYN- I DIDN'T REALLY FEEL LIKE THAT TOWARDS HER-NO."

Cronan sighed, as he gazed into the blank, white space of his mindscape. His hair was being braided by his- mother, if she really was Quartzine, and not just a memory. All the same, Cronan had missed his mother dearly, and even dream Quartzine had calmed his nerves down. She moved the same way his mother did, and her strong, slender hands tugged at his hair the way she used to. Down, over, switch, over and so on. She used to whisper to him, as his hair was being braided, to always be true to himself, always carry himself with dignity and strength.

"Done, Cronan. Why don't you turn around and have a look at it in the mirror?" Dream-Quartzine asked softly, and Cronan told obliged. Her hair cascaded in wavy, dark green waves, and a circlet of gold rested on her forehead. She was in her signature robe, and her pale face and startlingly violet eyes- all details to the point. Exactly like how Mother was.

Tears flowed, slowly, as Cronan tried to hold them in. He would not cry in front of this- this- fake  mother. She wasn't his mother no-

Dream-Quartzine pulled him into a hug, not the right and quick ones, but the long, truly embracing hug where she would reassure him that everything was fine, and he would be okay. "You know, I may be a memory, but you shouldn't lie to yourself."

Cronin sobbed harder into his dream-mother's robe, not wanting to let go. His tears soon died down, and he sniffled slightly before composing himself. He pulled away, and looked at the glass his dream-mother had conjured up. He was still in his own body, not the kid one, no, but his simple brown shirt-and-cape combo was gone, replaced by the old tunic he used to wear when he was but an elfling, and a golden circlet like his mother's rested upon his forehead too, crowned by intricate and tiny braids weaving in and out of the gleaming circlet. The rest of his hair fell down in straight, smooth locks of green, so unlike his usual, unkempt hair.

He put a hand to the glass, and turned his head to ask dream-Quartzine. "Is-is this really me?"
She reached out to brush a stray lock of hair that fell on his face, and replied.

"You've certainly grown enough to decide what path to go down to. Such a brave boy, surviving all on your own when no one could help you."

"What do I do, mother!" Cronan cried out, reaching for a now fading dream-Quartzine.

"My magic is now yours, and you've already become powerful and formidable without me. You'll grow to be a great mage, if you aren't already. You might even surpass me."

Dream-Quartzine gave one last, tired smile as she held on to her son's hands before fading away, leaving Cronan alone with nothing.

"Mother- I miss you. But I won't let you down. I'll be better- I'll be everything you asked for!"

And the mindscape disappeared.