Reaching for the Skies

[Kendra]

OOC: This is the story I am working on. I will post what I have thus far and will be adding to it as it progresses. This takes place in a unvierse of my own creation that is based on a combination of the Dragonlance and Forgotten Realms novels along with some input from roleplaying I have done with some friends. Any input is welcome and is the reason I want to post it, so please offer as much feedback as you would like! Thanks.

IC:
"Hey! Wait for me!" A small pair of feet pounded against the ground, sending up clouds of dust in their wake. The bare expanse of a dirt road extended far ahead of the running figure, and off in the distance could be seen the retreating silhouette of a horse-drawn carriage.

"Come back!" piped the squeaky, feminine voice of Kendra Farvel. The distance between her and the buggy was only increasing, and the small woman slowed to a panting stop, her hair tumbling in front of her face as her head tilted down toward the ground, hands on her knees. She blew at the pesky strands, only succeeding in getting them caught between her lips, and with a sputter, she brought her hands up to pull her long unruly brown hair back into the ponytail from which it had escaped.

That settled, Kendra straightened her plain tunic and adjusted the belt of her pants, and finally rested her hands on the straps of her large pack as she gave a discontented huff and looked off into the empty distance. "Well, who needs them," she said, turning around purposefully and taking a strong stride forward along the road in the opposite direction. "I was ready for another adventure anyway."

It wasn't long before the short, rugged young woman had picked up a spring in her step and was whistling to herself as she walked the long dusty expanse in solitude. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and a vast stretch of unexplored road stood between her and her unknown destination. Everything was looking splendidly magnificent. Kendra looked up at the sky and took a deep whiff of the fresh country air, releasing a satisfied sigh as she admired the beauty of some passing clouds.

Suddenly, she was tumbling forward, her foot caught on something in her path and with a startled yep, Kendra fell in a tangled heap sputtering out a mouthful of dirt. "What on earth... oh!" The sparkle of an ornately carved, jewel-hilted dagger caught her eye.

Fascinated, she picked up the unique, rather lovely looking, weapon tenderly between her fingers and held it in front of her face to admire. The tip was stained red, revealing that this magnificent blade had seen battle before being abandoned. Surely no one would have left such a wonderful treasure on purpose. Aside from the crimson stain, it had clearly been well cared for. "Someone must be missing you," Kendra said to the dagger, bringing up the edge of her tunic in an attempt to clean the tip. "I'll make sure you're well looked after, until we find your owner."

When she'd managed to remove all the blood, Kendra gave the blade another thorough examination before nodding happily and placing the lost weapon in her roughsack with a smile. She then picked herself up off the road and patted the dust out of her pants before continuing onward, her imagination swimming with all the possible events that could have landed that lovely little dagger in her pack.

Perhaps an assassin had left it in the body of his target in order to escape a raised alarm. He'd had no choice but to leave his precious dagger as the man he'd stabbed slipped out of his grip, and a dog in the camp roused everyone there with a loud howl. No. Someone else would have retrieved the weapon, or Kendra would have found it attached to the body.

Maybe a thief had filched it off a wealthy traveler and, not respecting the great value of such a blade, lost it in a tussle with one of his companions over some greater treasure. Simple, believable, but not nearly exciting enough.

Kendra fancied it had been the weapon of some great wizard traveling in disguise as some mere peasant. He, of course, would have cursed the blade so that any who attempted to steal it from him would be sure to find their own death brought to them by the very blade they'd stolen. He would also have poisoned the tip so that in the event he had not the opportunity to defend himself with his magic, he could make quick work of his attackers. The dagger would also most certainly be the heirloom of an ancient King, destined to be passed on to a young, unknown heir to the throne, to whom the wizard was bringing the weapon. The wizard probably found the boy he was to pass the dagger on to, and the boy, not believing the wizened man's story, would have tossed the blade aside after using its poisoned tip to defend himself from highway men on the road. Now, Kendra was bound to find that boy or the wizard and become entwined in a wonderful adventure.

Time had passed as Kendra wandered the dusty road, lost in her musings, leaving the sun falling low over the horizon. The blinding light irritated her eyes, and a growl from her stomach irritated her daydreams. "I suppose its time to make camp for the evening," Kendra said to herself, swinging her bag off her back and tossing it off to the roadside, following the sailing mass and meeting it as it tumbled to a stop in the grass.

A final thump placed the sack against a large rock hidden by overgrown weeds, and the young woman, just a few strides behind in lazy pursuit, could have sworn she heard a muffled "ouch".

She stopped mid-step as she leaned forward, legs stiff, trying to see what her bag must have bumped into. What Kendra had mistaken for a rock was not a rock at all, but a pair of boots. Taking another few careful steps forward, she saw that the boots were attached to a sprawled out body, which upon examination proved to be in rather nasty shape. It was an older man, his clothes torn and matted in a mixture of mud and blood.

A flutter of black feathers revealed a large bird that Kendra had not noticed until that point. It had been settled on the man’s chest and when he shifted slightly with a soft groan, the black mass jumped up with a squawk and landed by the mans head, grabbing a lock of his hair in its beak and giving it a tug.

"Hey, shoo! Shoo!" Kendra said, rushing forward and waving her hands, sending the bird away in an angry flurry of feathers. "He's not dead yet!" The young woman glared after the retreating bird and watched it land on a low branch of a nearby tree, settling down to watch her in return. Convinced the dark animal would now keep its distance, Kendra gave a satisfied nod and hurried over to the side of the injured figure.

"Sir," she said, placing a hand on his chest to feel a slow but steady heartbeat and the rise and fall of his ragged breathing. When she received no response, she leaned forward to look into his face and repeated loudly, "SIR!"

With another groan, his eyes squinting tightly in apparent pain, the man raised his arm to weakly try and push Kendra away. "Leave me be, you wretched child!" he croaked, and Kendra gave a yelp of surprise as the bird took a swipe at the back of her head. Kendra rubbed her grazed scalp and glared once again after the bird as it returned to its branch.

"Well, how’s that for gratitude," the woman huffed. "This bird here was determined to eat you, mister. I just saved your life. I was going to dress your wounds too, but if you're so sure you don't need any help I could just leave you to care for them yourself. And I'm no child. For your information, I happen to be twenty-three years old, and I've been living on my own for the past five years, thank you very much."

With a cough and an attempt to sit up, the man glanced skeptically over at his would-be helper. "The raven is my friend."

"Your friend?" Kendra raised a brow and looked back at the large black bird which ruffled its feathers and cackled at her. She snorted. "You need to get some better friends. Ones that won't try to eat you when they think you're dead."

The bird cawed and spread its wings threateningly, as if it understood what she was saying, and Kendra responded by sticking out her tongue. Meanwhile, the injured man had already begun attempting to care for his own wounds, and he let out a hiss of breath, a stifled moan, as he peeled off the caked on cloth that had been his shirt. Oblivious, Kendra continued her face-off with the raven and started spouting a fountain of questions.

"How'd you end up like that anyway? Did someone attack you? Were you in a battle? You were probably jumped by a band of highway men, weren't you? How many were there? I'll bet they took everything you had on you, didn't they? It's a good thing I came along. I've got plenty of supplies in my pack. You should have been paying closer attention to your surroundings. It's real easy to tell where they like to hide if you pay attention. They being the highway men, of course. Your bird was probably distracting you. You're lucky I found you before he started eating you. He would have plucked out your eyeballs first, maybe even while you were still alive. That would have been painful. I saw some birds do that to a rabbit once. Plucked its eyes right out of its skull while it was still kicking. It's their favorite part, you know. They like to get them fresh off the corpse."

"Are you sure you're twenty-three?" the man interrupted, his voice harsh and annoyed. Kendra missed the implied insult and merely nodded, counting out the months on her fingers before speaking her reply, "Twenty-four in another five moons."

The man looked her up and down skeptically, and she could just imagine what he must be thinking. She'd heard it all so many times before. How her short, lithe frame made her appear to be nothing more than a child. How her incessant talk and curiosity pestered and annoyed, like a child. How her lack of fear and distrust in others made her seem so much like a child. How her vivid imagination and tirade of creative stories made her so very childish. To be quite honest, she was downright tired of being treated like a child. She placed her hands on her hips and tilted her chin up in defiance.

"Go ahead and say it. I look like I can't be more than twelve, right? You think I'm just a nuisance little girl that doesn't know anything about the world. Well, for your information, I've taken care of myself just fine for the past five years, and I've helped out quite a few people like yourself, too. In fact, I can handle myself just fine in a fight, too, and I'm not so dumb and inattentive that I'd get overtaken by a bunch of stupid highway men, and I certainly wouldn't call a lousy bird like that my friend."

The raven ruffled its feathers and cackled angrily, leaving Kendra convinced that it did indeed understand her. She simply took the opportunity to stick her tongue out at the bird again. A sigh escaped the man’s lips as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I wasn't attacked by highway-men, and the raven was not trying to eat me, little one. Now, if you are really intent on sticking around, I'd appreciate some peace and quiet. I've got a long road ahead of me, and I could really use some good rest."

Her momentary anger forgotten at the mention of a long journey, Kendra found herself spouting another round of curious questions. "So what did happen then? Where are you going? Are you on some kind of quest? I've never been on a quest before, but I bet I could help. Do you--"

The man silenced her with a glare as Kendra realized she wasn't being quiet like he'd asked, and she covered her mouth apologetically. "Oh, right. Well, um... here. I'll make up some food for us and we can talk more in the morning. How's that? And if you want, I can take a look at those wounds to make sure they're healing properly. My uncle was a healer, and he taught me a few tricks of the trade. I've actually got a bit of a knack for it. He was surprised I didn't want to take up the profession myself. One time-- sorry. That's right. Shutting up now."

Kendra retrieved her bag and started digging through it for her meal provisions, something she could put together quickly since she hadn't stopped to hunt or gather anything along the road. She was just about to go gather some wood to start a fire, when she realized she hadn't even introduced herself to her new companion or asked his name. The young woman turned quickly on her heel to face him once again, as the raven flew down from its roost in the tree to land on his shoulder.

"By the way. My name's Kendra Farvel. Sorry, I forgot about introductions. What's your name?"

The man didn't bother looking at her, reaching a finger up to stroke the raven's chest feathers as he spoke. "You may call me Talon. That is all you need know."

Kendra smiled, not caring or not noticing that he'd avoided giving her an actual name. "Alright, Talon," she said, turning back to resume gathering firewood. "I think we're going to get along just great."

*****

A strong rush of wind sent her hair whipping behind her, as Kendra leaned forward, arms outstretched like a birds wings, letting the blast hit her full force. The next thing she knew she was in the air, the ground falling away beneath her. The sudden upward momentum of the take-off pinned Kendra flat onto the back of her mount, and it was that moment that she realized she was riding a dragon! Her heart soared with excitement as another wing-beat of the massive creature just under her pinned her down once again. She was flying! Everything grew smaller and the world fell further and further away.

She couldn’t believe it. It was the most amazing feeling in the world. She was high in the sky, looking down on all the inhabitants beneath her from the back of one of the worlds’ most magnificent creatures, a dragon. If only this feeling could last forever. Flying through the clouds—and then something bit her in the butt.

“What the—“ Kendra jumped up from where she’d been laying on the ground with a start, finding that her pack had been pressed up against her backside. It took her about two seconds to realize she’d only been dreaming, and then another two seconds to get over her disappointment. A traveling adventurer like herself was bound to achieve her dreams someday.

That settled, Kendra rolled over and seized her bag, fishing inside to retrieve whatever object had been the culprit that had interrupted her dream. “Aha!” she exclaimed, pulling out the beautiful dagger she’d happened upon the day before. “Well, why don’t I put you somewhere easier to reach? If we’re going to be questing with Talon, I may find a use for you before we find your owner.”

The young woman dived back into her sack and reemerged with a thick strand of twine which she used to create a makeshift hold for the dagger on the side of her belt. “There,” she said with a smile, giving the small weapon a pat as she slid it through the loop of twine and gave it a slight adjustment to make sure it fit comfortably at her side before tightening the knot. “It would work better if I actually had a sheath, but this’ll do for now. I’ll just have to be careful when sitting, so it doesn’t stab me again.”

The grass around her was wet, moistening her pants and tunic as Kendra moved around, and she could see the individual droplets of dew forming on the green blades reflecting the rays of the rising sun. The small, slender woman rolled up her sleeping mat and tied it back in place on her bag, situating it on her back and rising to her feet with a luxurious stretch, taking in her surroundings.

A light mist settled low over the ground making the air thick and moist, a slight breeze mixing with the moisture to send a waking chill deep into Kendra’s bones, and the morning light dawning with a dull haze over the foggy landscape. It was a morning full of mystery, a morning made for adventure. Kendra took in a deep breath of the fresh, grass scented air, and let out a satisfied sigh.

“Good morning world, and good morning Ta… hmm…” There was a matted mark on the ground where Talon had lain when she’d found him, empty, just pressed flat grass. “Talon?” Kendra spun around, checking the ground around her for any sign of the injured man and his bird. Nothing.

“Humph.”

The few lingering chirps of the night’s crickets faded out as the louder more active chirping of the waking birds echoed through the skies in a slowly building crescendo. A sleeping forest was waking, and the still grass by the roadside shifted and scratched as some early rising foragers dared to leave the shelter of the trees and test the open skies. One of those venturing creatures hopped into view, a little rabbit, nose twitching tentatively, testing the air with each slow little hop forward. It was just settling in to enjoy a patch of clover when Kendra scuffed the ground with her foot and heaved a discontented sigh, sending the poor critter scurrying back to the woods.

"On my own, once again," her head hung sadly as she looked off into the distance, the view shrouded in the deepening fog. Though the atmosphere would be depressing to some, seeing such weather slowly worked to brighten Kendra's dampened spirits. Talon may have left her behind to go questing on his own, but there was a whole world out there, hidden from view, possible adventures hiding around every bend. "Well, I can find some exciting adventures just fine on my own. Besides, I've got my own mystery to unravel." She patted the dagger at her side, slipped her thumbs into the straps of her pack and put one determined foot in front of the other.

Reacquainted once again with the dusty path, her feet picked up the pace, kicking up a little dirt as she moved into a skip. Her head moved from side to side, eyes straining to see as far as she could in every direction. It wasn't long though before she started getting bored with her surroundings and her mind started to wander. Just as dragons had entered her sleep, dragons entered her daydreams.

The sky went dark and the leaves of the trees shuddered in the wake of the great beast flying above them. Kendra could see the winged-shadow dwarfing her form on the road as it flew right over her head, and she looked upward to see the giant creature diving downward. It swooped in and did an immediate 360 ahead of her, just inches above the tree tops, its powerful wing beats sending her reeling backward. The creature’s leathery head alone was as big as a house, and its eyes bored into her as it alighted with a thundering shake on the road, blocking her path.

Kendra could do nothing but stand there in awe, her mouth gaping wide open as the dragon folded its wings up by its side and huffed a smoky breath out its nostrils. It tilted its head down, cocking it to the side to take her in with the gaze of a single great eye. The two faced off in silence on the roadway, neither saying a word.

The silence was broken by a rustling in the bushes to the side of the road, and the dragon gave another smoky snort, rearing back on its hind feet, away from the sound. It was a band of evil warriors that had been waiting in hiding and were now planning to ambush the dragon! Kendra spun quickly to face the would be attackers, swinging her bag from her shoulders with a “hya!”, intending to strike the first daring soul to come out of the bushes with the weight of her belongings.

A burly highway man leapt backward, sucking in his gut to avoid getting hit by the bludgeon, and Kendra’s eyes focused back on reality. Her daydream dragon disappeared off the road, and before her stood a pair of brigands. They would have taken her completely by surprise had it not been for the seconds clumsiness. She could see his foot caught in the branches of a small shrub, and he hopped precariously on one leg, shaking his trapped limb in an attempt to free it.

“Whoa there, little missy,” the first said, an amused grin on his face. “No need to be fightin. Didn’t mean to startle ye. Ain’t that right, Bart?”

“Wha?” the man known as Bart looked up at his companion, and immediately fell over onto the dusty path, having been distracted from his attempts to free himself from the foliage. “Oh, yeah, yeah. We’re harmless.” He snickered.

Kendra narrowed her eyes, unconvinced, her legs spread wide in a stance ready to fight, bag at the ready for another swing. “Then, what ARE you doing?” she asked.

“Collectin,” the first, apparently the leader, replied to her question. “You see, that fancy little letter opener ye’ve got by yer side caught me eye, and I recon ye’ve got a bit more’o finery in that there bag’o yourn. Ye jus be handin it over, and there won’t be any need to dirty up that pretty little face’o yourn.”

“I don’t think so,” Kendra said, tilting her head upward to give the man a determined glare, as Bart got clumsily to his feet and stood beside his leader. “None of the things in my bag belong to you, and you don’t have my permission to be touching them. You’ll not be collecting anything from me.”

“Oh, but I think differently. See, when I’s like somethin, I get it. Whether you give it to me willingly, or I’ve got to take it.” He pulled a large broadsword from behind his back and held it before her, running his finger along the edge of the blade in an attempt to threaten her. “It’s mine.”

“No, it’s NOT yours, and if you take it, that’s called stealing, and stealing is wrong!” Kendra replied forcefully, not in the least bit frightened.

“It ain’t stealin, it’s collectin,” the man replied. “See, you walk around carryin somethin like that there blade, and yer bound to be tractin the wrong types. There be bad sorts out there who’d kill ye for a shine like that. By collectin, we’re workin as a protection’o sorts. Ain’t that right, Bart?”

He elbowed his companion, who by now Kendra figured to be really stupid, and he gave a rather startled reply. “Huh? Wha—oh, yeah, yeah. Right, Marv.” He snickered.

“Well, don’t you men worry. I can take care of myself just fine,” Kendra said, not dropping her guard, making it clear that if they intended to take anything from her, they were going to have to fight her for it.

“That so?” Marv asked, tilting his head to look over at Bart. “Why don’t you teach this little girl a thing or two, Bart? Show her how dangerous it can be out here.”

“Right, righ—“

Before Bart could even take a step forward, Kendra flattened herself to the ground, swinging her bag out once again in a low sweep that took the distracted Marv right behind the knees. He fell backward, sword swinging out wide, sending Bart stumbling back to avoid getting hit. The young woman left the clumsier man to his own devices, standing back up and bringing her pack around behind her back and over her head in a forceful downward swing over Marv’s prostrate form, hitting him full on the chest and sending a blasting gasp of air out of his lungs. She then stepped up onto his stomach and stomped purposefully on his groin, jumping over his now curled body.

Kendra kicked the broadsword across the dirt road, away from Marv, moving in on Bart, who had just now managed to regain his balance. He stupidly charged forward in an attempt to tackle her, but Kendra just curled up and shoved her own body against his knee, sending him wheeling through the air to land on top of his fallen companion.

“Next time you decide to ‘collect’ from somebody,” she said, turning to face them and swinging her roughsack back around to settle comfortably against her back, “remember this. You two just got your keasters handed to you by a cute little girl. You’re pathetic. Go find yourselves an honest job and quit thieving off of others. Have a nice day.”

*****

The clop of horse hooves, clatter of wheels on stone, and shuffling of feet polluted the air with such a cacophony of sound that the bustling hubub of the city seemed deafening compared to the quiet stillness of the open road, and of course Kendra walked right into the center of it all... the marketplace.

Vendors were shouting and calling from every which direction, commanding and pleading with people to check out their stalls and buy their wares, promising great deals, excellent quality, and one-of-a-kind offers. Children and street urchins were running freely through the streets, weaving between the shopping crowds and carts, snagging items from the shops when their keepers weren't looking, waving about sticks, tossing stones, and skipping over cracks in the road. Parents called after their runaway miscreants, classy businessmen turned up their noses at the lowly commoners, the occasional shout of thief or brigand rang through the air, and guards attempted to keep things under some semblance of order.

It was controlled chaos, exactly what Kendra liked. She smiled brightly as she skipped down the cobbled road, deftly avoiding collision with those that stepped in her path, even making it into a bit of a game as she twisted, turned, and spun, attempting all the while to maintain her joyful skipping gate. A twinkle and sparkle of reflected sunlight caught her eye, bringing her to a sudden halt, leaning forward on tip toes to catch herself, as if one more step would send her plunging into the depths of a canyon. She cartwheeled her arms, desperately seeking balance once again, and she finally fell back on her heels, safe and sound.

Kendra looked up to find the jewelers stall, and her eyes went wide with excitement. "Oh, how pretty!" In mere seconds she was at the edge of the stall, tip toes once again so she could see over the counter, gazing at all the fine sparkling jewels. Necklaces, bracelets, earrings, lockets, pocket watches, chains, rings, finely cut gems, ornately carved figurines, bejeweled knives and letter openers, and even an exquisitely decorated music box. The young woman's eyes dashed from one object to the next, each one seeming more beautiful than the one before it, the glamour of their bright colors and twinkling magic was simply captivating.

"May I help you?" the shopkeeper asked, briefly drawing Kendra’s gaze to acknowledge that she'd heard him.

"You have the most beautiful wares," Kendra exclaimed with a smile, even hopping slightly in her excitement. "I've never seen such fine jewelry before. Except maybe in Kyrie, but that's to be expected. After all, they’re the biggest trading center on the entire continent. Awfully far away from here though. I've only been there once. Beautiful place. Lot's of people. They're not really all that friendly though. You'd think a trade hub as big as that would be more friendly toward visitors."

"If you are interested in my wares, then allow me to aid you in your purchase," the vendor said. "If you wish only to speak of Kyrie and share tales, perhaps a tavern would be better suited to your company. This is not the place for storytellers."

"Oh, excuse me, sorry," Kendra smiled sheepishly. "I don't mean to let my mouth run away with me like that. I just get so excited, you know? I don't think I'll be buying anything though. I haven't really got all that much need for jewelry. It's just so very pretty. Fascinating really. I love the way it sparkles and twinkles. It's like looking at the nighttime sky, so full of bright beautiful stars. It's so very wonderful. Sometimes I like to just stay up all night, gazing at the stars."

"I'm sorry," the man interrupted again. "But if you are not planning on making a purchase, I must ask you to step aside for prospective customers."

"Right, right," Kendra nodded in understanding, pumping up and down on her toes. Her gaze lingered on the lovely gems as she slowly turned to walk away, but she hadn't made it two steps before her hand fell to the dagger at her side and an idea suddenly crossed her mind. "Oh!" Kendra turned back around and raised herself up on her tip toes once more in an attempt to grab the jeweler's attention. "Excuse me!"

He turned back around to face her, crossing his arms over his chest and tapping his foot with impatience, but the short young woman didn't even seem to notice. Kendra pulled the dagger up and placed it on the edge of the counter, and the jeweler was immediately interested. "Have you ever seen anything like this before?" Kendra asked, gazing up at him hopefully.

"That's a fine dagger you've got there," the vendor said with a nod, eyeing it greedily, waiting for permission to examine it.

"I found it on the road," she replied honestly. "I thought I might be able to find its owner. It is a rather lovely piece of weaponry. I thought for sure, whoever lost it must be missing it. It's rather unique, too, so it can't be too hard to find its owner, right? I figured with all the lovely jeweled and be-gemed items you've got here, maybe you might be able to point me in the right direction?"

"Well, I could give you information on the make of the dagger, but that would cost you."

"What do you mean?" Kendra asked innocently.

The man's eyes narrowed angrily. "Nothing's free, missy. Not even information. You want something you've got to pay for it."

"Well, just how much would information cost then?" Kendra asked, a little huffy now herself. He didn't have to be so rude.

"Depends on how much you've got."

"Well, excuse me, but I don't feel like dishing out everything I've got just so you can tell me some lousy information. You'll probably make some crap up anyway. I doubt you know anything about this dagger. I'll figure out who it belongs to on my own, thank you very much." Kendra picked the dagger back up from where she'd placed it on the counter and returned it to her belt, her nose turned up in a huff. "That jeweler was just as rude as the people in Kyrie," she said to herself, scuffing her foot on the ground and sending a stray rock careening across the cobbles.

"Thief!"

"I mean I just wanted to look at his pretty jewelry and ask him some questions about the dagger," Kendra continued talking to herself as she walked away, unaware of the guards weaving through the crowd in her direction. "What ever happened to people just wanting to help others out, out of the genuine interest of their hearts? I just want to give it back to whoever lost it. I'm sure they miss it. It is a very lovely dagger."

"Thief!"

The crowd parted around her and a pair of guards dashed forward, seizing her from behind, each grabbing one arm and lifting her into the air between them. "Hey!" Kendra shouted, pedaling her feet in the open air beneath her. "What's going on?!"

"Come on, quit your struggling," one of the guards said.

"Little street urchin," the other scoffed.

Kendra kicked back and to the side, catching him in the ribs, and he almost dropped her. "That was uncalled for!" Kendra turned her head to glare at him. "I haven't done anything wrong!"

"We'll see about that," the first guard said, failing to hold back an amused smile as he looked at his injured partner.

"That's right, she's the thief! I want her locked up!" The guards turned with Kendra between them, and the young woman saw the jewelry vendor standing in front of her, pointing accusingly.

"I didn't take anything from you!" Kendra glared.

"She took that dagger from my shelf of wares and tried to walk off with it!"

"Did not!"

"She did so. That is my dagger, and I demand to have it back or have it paid for, and for her to be arrested." The vendor crossed his arms over his chest, his face set in a demanding scowl.

Kendra's jaw dropped down in shock and outrage, silent for a full two seconds before she shouted, "Liar!"

The guards did not listen, and though she pedaled her feet and tried desperately to free her arms from their grip, they retrieved the dagger from her side and handed it to the shop owner, who grinned triumphantly.

"Give that back! Let me go! I didn't do anything wrong! Hey! What do you think you're doing?! Don't I get a chance to defend myself?! Someone here must have seen what happened! He's a liar! Let me go!"

*****

The cold steel bars felt harsh and unforgiving in her hands, as Kendra gazed out at the open space denied to her, her lower lip jutted outward in an animated pout. Her eyes locked with those of the guard on the other end of the confining barrier in a death glare. The prison warden just chuckled at her expression and slung her confiscated bag over his shoulder.

“Glaring at me won’t do you any good, little miss,” he said with an amused smile. “Time to pay for your crime.”

“But I didn’t do anything!” Kendra declared, bouncing on her toes like a temperamental child.

The guard just ignored her and placed her bag on a hook next to the belongings of some other prisoners in the rank, smelly little jail. Kendra glared after him, as if she could sear the back of his head with the intensity of her stare as he walked out of the room, leaving her with only the companionship of those locked behind bars. With a huff, the young woman folded her arms and plopped down right in front of the barred door, crossing her legs, and curling her lip with a dramatic pout.

She sat quietly, focusing on her bag as it swung back and forth on its hook. She imagined the face of the jeweler in place of her sack, and her pout turned into a scowl. That rotten thief! He’d stolen her dagger and had her locked up for HIS crime! He was such… a… liar! She just could not believe what he’d done to her. It was so wretchedly, horribly, wrong!

“Urgh!” Kendra fumed, leaping to her feet and stomping her foot in a puddle, sending the water splashing out in a spray and soaking her leg. She then turned her back to her bag, imagining herself giving the jeweler the cold shoulder. Arms still folded, chin jutted up into the air, she finally took in the rest of her surroundings.

As she looked around her cell, Kendra’s miss-adventure was quickly forgotten. The damp, dark, smelly accommodations would sour the spirits of a normal adventurer, but Kendra was no normal adventurer. A steady drip from the ceiling revealed the source of the puddle she had just stomped, and a patter of feet drew her gaze to a scurrying mouse in the far corner as it quickly scampered under the stone bed and through a little hole in the wall. Lying on the bed was a man with his cloak resting over his body like a blanket, covering all from his feet to his armpits. His feet were shod with a pair of traveling boots, and his arms rested under his head to offer a pillow-like support, his face covered by a large, wide brimmed hat.

The petite young woman tilted her head to the side with curiosity, as she slowly crept up to her cellmate. She knelt next to the hard, slate outcropping that worked as a bed, bringing her face right up next to the hat. She tenderly took the edge of the brim between two fingers and lifted it slightly, peeking underneath.

The man’s face was so dark it was almost as if he had no face at all, the color of his skin blending so smoothly with the shadows. His hair was bleach white in stark contrast to his skin, and as her eyes focused and she was able to take in more detail, Kendra spotted the pointed tip of his ears. She gasped with excitement and dropped the hat as she leapt to her feet. “You’re a dr-“

Before the word had the opportunity to escape her mouth, she found it covered by an ebony hand, and she was wrapped in the folds of the forest green cloak that moments ago had been used as a blanket. Kendra’s eyes opened wide in surprise, and she tilted her head upward to gaze up at the dark elf that she had thought was sleeping. She’d never seen anyone move that quickly.

“Shhh,” he cautioned, the warning resting right against her ear, his warm breath settling against her neck and sending an excited chill down her spine. “People here don’t take too kindly to my sort,” the man whispered.

Kendra nodded in understanding, and his touched slipped off her like a flowing summer breeze. “Wow,” she whispered. Her cellmate sat back down on the slab, his traveling cloak covering most all of his body and leaving what little was uncovered scoured in shadow. The hat did likewise, tilted down over his face so that naught but shadow was visible, excepting a few strands of ivory hair. She could feel her excitement boiling up inside her, building in pressure so that she simply could not contain it. Her body trembled, and she ached with the desire to shout out her discovery to the world.

Knowing that such action would not end well for her new companion, the young woman exerted every ounce of her self control, took a deep breath, and held it as she counted down slowly from ten focusing on the calming rhythm of the dripping water. Finally, she let the air escape from her lungs, and with it her excitement, allowing it to flow outward like the gentle fizz of a bubbling witches brew.

“How’d you get in here?” she whispered. “I thought drow were supposed to be sneaky and smart. Few people ever see one, and most that do don’t live to tell about it. I heard you live underground, that you don’t like the sunlight, and that you’re all evil. At least, that’s what my uncle told me, but he doesn’t know everything. I don’t believe it’s possible for an entire race to be evil. In fact, I don’t think there’s very many people that are really evil at all. Except…” she raised a finger to her chin in thought. “After meeting that jeweler I might have to rethink my philosophy. Maybe there are more bad and evil people in the world than I thought, but I still don’t think an entire race could be evil. I’ve always entertained the thought that dark elves are just misunderstood and that people wouldn’t end up dead after running into them if they’d just be nice to them. See, when someone’s ready to kill you when they first meet you because they think you’re evil, one of you is bound to end up dead because you don’t even get a chance to prove you’re not, you have to defend yourself, right? That’s what I think about dragons, too, and dragons are absolutely fascinating. I always hoped that someday I’d meet a dragon, and now that I’ve met you, maybe I’m one step closer to fulfilling my dream. I mean, who would have thought I’d ever meet a drow?”

“Shhh,” an ebony finger raised up from the folds of the cloak and covered dark lips in a gesture for quiet. “Please stop saying that. You could draw attention to our cell.”

“Oh, right sorry,” Kendra smiled. “So how’d you get thrown in here?” she whispered.

“I didn’t,” the dark elf replied.

“What do you mean you didn’t?” Kendra asked, confusion causing her voice to once again raise to its normal pitch. “You’re in here aren’t you? So what’d you do? Do you mean you didn’t as in you’re innocent? Because, I certainly understand how you feel if that’s what you mean. I’m innocent, too. I was framed. The jeweler said I stole that dagger from him, but it wasn’t even his! I found it on the road, and I thought I’d ask him if he knew anything about it, and when he said I’d have to pay him to find out about it I decided to go look somewhere else for someone who’d know about it, and he decided to call the guards and say I’d stolen it from him. Can you believe that? That was an outright lie. I just can’t believe he got away with it. And now he’s got that lovely dagger, and I’m sure a liar like that isn’t going to be wanting to return it to it’s rightful owner, now is he? I’ll bet—“

“Shhh,” came a soft reminder, as her dark friend once again brought a finger to his lips.

[Kendra]

“Oh, right, sorry,” Kendra replied. She sat quietly for perhaps a full minute, the silence seeming to eat away at her as she plopped herself up on the stone bed next to the elf and kicked her feet back and forth. Her new-found companion did nothing to ease her anxiety, just sitting so very still and quiet next to her, not saying or doing anything.

“Well, I’ve had just about enough of this place,” she said, jumping down and heading straight up to the bars, briefly examining the lock before reaching down inside her boot to pull out a lock pick. The dark elf cocked his head to the side in interest, his lips spreading in a smile as he chuckled softly to himself, watching her deftly and quickly pick the lock.

The jail door swung wide open, and the prisoners in the cell next to them seemed to come alive with interest. One looked about to shout out, when a dark form rose from the corner and followed the young woman out the door. Eyes meeting those of the drow, the man decided it would be better to keep his mouth shut and stay locked up right where he was. Kendra was already picking up her belongings and heading out the side door, chatting with herself the whole way.

“I’ll show that jeweler. He has no right to have that dagger. I bet he’s going to try to sell it to someone, and it isn’t even his. Why, I’ll bet half the things in his store aren’t even his. I’ll show him. He wants to call me a thief? He’s the one who’s a thief. Maybe he should get a taste of his own medicine.”

*****

“Aren’t you coming?” Kendra asked, spinning around to face the drow standing in the doorway of the little prison. He had peered out the door after her and remained standing where he was, and even now he stood in silence, offering no answer to her question. Looking around Kendra thought she had figured out her own answer. “Oh, I know,” she said. “You don’t really like the sunlight do you? Why is that? Do you really live underground? Does it hurt your skin and make you burn like a vampire? I’ve never met one of those, but my uncle says they are quite frightening. I think it wouldn’t be so bad to meet one, so long as you were sure to keep away from their fangs. Maybe if you let them know you weren’t very tasty they wouldn’t be interested in biting you. Do you think so? I…”

The small woman stopped herself, following the drow’s gaze outward to the setting sun, just beginning to disappear over the rooftops. Her new companion squinted, covering his eyes and looking away, bringing his hat down over his face. It seemed as though he took great effort to collect himself and step forward, following close behind Kendra. “It hurts my eyes,” he explained quietly. “They are quite sensitive.”

“Oh,” Kendra replied, now making her way back toward the market in no real hurry. “I bet it’s because they aren’t really used to the sunlight. Living underground can do that. The sun hurts my eyes even when I’ve just been inside a building for a really long time. So, for someone used to living somewhere where there is no sun at all, it must be really hard. It will take a while for your eyes to get used to it. But then, maybe it’s not really all that good to get used to it. Like looking into a fire for too long. When you get used to it, then it’s harder for you to see at night and in the dark and it’s easier for things to sneak up on you. You’ve got to be careful when you’re not well liked. It doesn’t do you any good to have someone sneak up on you. ‘Course, it also helps when you want to be sneaky, to be traveling in the dark, ‘cause then everyone who’s used to going everywhere in the day time is less likely to catch you. I bet the jeweler didn’t think about that. He won’t know what hit him.”

“What is so important about this dagger?” the drow asked.

“Well, it isn’t his,” Kendra said simply.

“Yes, but you also said it isn’t yours, that you found it on the road.”

“Yes, but I intend to return it to its rightful owner when I find him. Or her. When I find them. Eventually. But HE just wants to make money off of it. He doesn’t care about who it really belongs to. That’s why he lied to get it from me. He wanted it all for himself.” She was growing rather huffy in the retelling, and she looked up to her dark friend. “You don’t have to come with me, you know,” she said. “I understand if you find me annoying.”

“What?” the elf replied in surprise.

“Well, I never really stay with anyone for very long,” she said, sounding very sad and depressed. “It’s not that I don’t try. I’m very helpful, and I like to learn new things from others. I’ve met all sorts of people, and they’ve done all sorts of interesting things, but none of them ever want me to stick around. They always leave me.”

“Hmm… I haven’t the faintest idea why. You’ve been very kind to me in a world that seems devoid of kindness.”

“You really think so?” she said, seeming to perk up and a pep returning to her step.

“Of course,” the drow replied. “I would not say so if I did not think so.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” she said, smiling up at him brightly, and he could not help but return her smile. “And here I was beginning to think I’d never find a traveling companion.”

“Traveling companion?”

“Why yes. I think it should be rather fun,” Kendra replied. “And a drow of all people. If my uncle were here, he’d be most impressed.”

“I’m afraid you don’t understand,” her friend tried to explain. “You see, I can’t go traveling.”

“Why not?” the young woman asked, taken aback. “Don’t you wish to see the world, have grand adventures, go questing? There is so much out there to find, to learn, to explore. There is nothing better than having the road under your feet, not knowing which way you are headed or where you will be resting for the night, not knowing what the next day has in store, who you will meet, or what you will find. I had thought a dark elf on the surface must certainly have the desire to travel and explore. Why else would you be here?”

“I cannot go traveling, because my father would be most upset,” the drow replied. “I do not live underground. I have never been there. In fact, I have never been beyond this town. I should not even be here. I am already going to be in trouble when I get home.”

“You… I… you’re… what?” Kendra stammered, not at all understanding. She had of course already devised the history of her new companion in her imagination, concocting devious adventures and betrayals that had led him to the surface away from his kin, and this did not fit into her created figure at all. Wiping the slate of her mental creation clean, she looked up at the dark elf trying to make sense of this new revelation and build something equally exiting to that which she had previously assumed. She drew a complete blank.

Stomping her foot in frustration, jeweler and dagger completely forgotten, Kendra plopped down on the ground where she stood, and patted the grass next to her. The dark elf took her cue and alighted next to her, his cloak rippling around him with a grace that mocked her own plop. Kendra crossed her arms with a frown and gazed under the drow’s hat, looking to meet his eyes.

“You still live with your father?” she demanded.

“Yes,” the drow replied.

“How old are you?”

“42 years.”

Her jaw dropped. “What?!”

“That is not so old in the years of a drow,” her companion explained. “We live for centuries. Compared to most other races, I would still be considered a child.”

“I started traveling on my own when I was 17!” Kendra spouted. “42?! And you still live with your father?!”

“Yes,” he stated.

Kendra shook her head. “Alright then, I guess I will be on my own once again. Unless, of course, you can convince your father to let you leave home, or convince him to come too.”

“I do not think that would happen any time soon,” her companion replied.

“Well, then I guess I should enjoy the time I have to get to know you, and I should like to meet your father before I head off again.”

“That might not be the wisest idea,” the dark elf cautioned, even as Kendra stood and brushed herself off with a heavy sigh, seeking adventurous thoughts to coax herself back into her positive mindset.

“And, why not?” Kendra asked.

“Well, he doesn’t like anybody,” he said. “He’s a bit of a hermit, really.”

“Hmm…” Kendra found her mind wandering, and she walked forward, oblivious to her surroundings. Thoughts racing, she sought some explanation that would bring interest to this scenario. Why would a drow be living the life of a hermit on the surface, with a son that he would not allow to travel even beyond the town? Was he in hiding? Had he crossed someone that ought not to have been crossed and wished to spare his son from his unseemly past? Her imagination chased the innumerable possibilities that arose from such thoughts and a smile returned to her lips.

“I will meet him,” she stated, a firm and uncontestable statement. “I think I might find something rather exciting.”

The dark elf shrugged as he followed after the now skipping young woman, shaking his head as she began humming to herself.

*****

[Kendra]

“Why are we doing this?”

“SHHhh,” Kendra cautioned her companion.

A rather comical image of a little girl and a dark elf crouched behind the covered stand of merchant wares would have left a lasting impression on any who happened to look upon the pair, were it not for the darkness of night hiding them from sight. Kendra was in the process of expertly picking the lock, while her newfound friend loomed over her, glancing around cautiously as if fearful of being discovered.

“We’re getting that dagger back, and then we’re going to go meet your father,” the young woman whispered.

“We can’t just steal it,” the drow complained.

“I told you- he stole it from me. So, I’m not stealing it; I’m just retrieving it.”

The taller image shrugged and let out an exasperated sigh. “Just hurry up. Thradris is already going to be angry enough as it is.”

“Shhh… There!” The lock popped open, and Kendra slipped through the door, her dark companion remaining where he was as she delved around inside for the coveted dagger. Several long moments dragged on in silence, and the elf fidgeted impatiently before Kendra finally reappeared, dagger in hand and a smile splayed wide across her lips.

“Lead away,” she said, happily motioning for the dark elf to take the lead. Kendra unceremoniously dropped her prize in her large rucksack and hooked her thumbs in the straps, ready to follow her companion on her new adventure.

Her ebony-skinned friend just shook his head in exasperation. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he cautioned. “Thradris isn’t going to be happy.”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go,” Kendra smiled, bouncing up and down on her toes in her excitement. She couldn’t wait to unravel the mystery of the surface-living, hermit drow. Nothing would hold her back. Even if her companion, with his superior sneaking skill, decided to leave her behind in the dark, the exuberant female could not be held from her determined course. She would scour the entire woods for their hut if occasion called for it.

The pair exited the town proper the same way Kendra had entered, and it wasn’t long before her companion slipped into the neighboring forest. Lacking the night vision of the dark elf, the young woman found herself falling behind the long-legged guide, despite her attempts to follow close behind.

“Hey, take it easy!” she called, when his form slipping in and out of the shadows became so obscured she couldn’t tell whether or not he was still in front of her. “You’re going too fast! Hey… oh! I never got your name.”

The drow had stopped at her call, and she scrambled over a fallen log to his side. “I’m Kendra, by the way. Kendra Farvel.”

“Melonzriel,” the dark elf replied.

“Melon-shree-il?” Kendra responded, slipping a little on the difficult pronunciation.

“You can just call me Mel,” the drow simplified. “It’s pronounced Mel-ons-reel. Mel is easier.”

“Okay,” Kendra smiled, and Melonzriel found himself wondering if there was anything that could wipe that smile from her face. It seemed permanently attached. Of course, seeing her so happy, he didn’t really want anything to alter the young woman’s joyful expression.

He continued through the woods at a slower pace, making sure his tagalong was keeping up. Mel did not know how lucky he was to be traveling in near silence, for had it been lighter, Kendra would have been more easily able to pick her path and her unoccupied mind would have produced a flow of thoughts and questions that would have been vocalized their entire journey. As it was, she was entirely encompassed in keeping her companion in her sights, especially since he so easily disappeared from sight even just a few feet from her.

It wasn’t long before they were near Melonzriel’s woodland home. He instinctively slowed, unsure of himself. In the 42 years he had lived there, no one other than himself and his father had ever come to their hut. His father insisted upon no visitors, and he lived such a secluded life that there wasn’t really anyone who would want to visit, if anyone even knew the location of their home. While Mel thirsted for outside companionship, he knew his father would not be pleased when he saw Kendra.

Why then had the young elf allowed her to follow? He’d had several opportunities to ditch her. He didn’t have to stay with her as she retrieved her dagger. He didn’t have to slow to allow her to follow him in the dark woods. Why had he brought her here, risking the wrath of his father on a woman he hardly knew? Why? The question tormented him so much that he was as surprised as Kendra by the voice that rang out next to him.

“Where have you been?!”

Both Kendra and Melonzriel jumped as a dark form seemed to materialize out of the trees beside them. Their reactions upon realizing just who had appeared before them were not so similar. Kendra practically squealed in excitement, covering her mouth and bouncing in place as she looked on at the drow pair. Melonzriel, looking in his father’s infuriated eyes, appeared terrified.

“I…I…” the younger elf stammered.

“What is this girl doing here? Did you go to the town again? What were you thinking?!” Thradris loomed over his son, not really particularly taller in physique, but his rage seemed to make him grow. When Melonzriel found himself unable to answer, Thradris continued his rant. “You had me worried sick! Most of the people in that town would prefer it if the both of us were dead! Do you even realize how dangerous it is for you to sneak off like that on your own?! And now you brought one of them back here. You realize they’ll be able to find us now?”

“Excuse me,” Kendra loudly interrupted, and the two drow glanced down to see the young woman glaring up at Thradris with her arms crossed. “Maybe if you didn’t keep Mel cooped up here all the time he wouldn’t feel the need to sneak out on his own,” she lectured. “It’s perfectly natural for him to feel curious and adventurous. He needs some freedom, and if you don’t allow him to explore then he’s going to do it behind your back. He’d be a lot safer if you didn’t try to keep him caged in, because then he wouldn’t have to hide where he’s going from you.”

Melonzriel brought a hand up over his face in embarrassment, wishing he could shrink down into nothingness. Kendra would be in for it now. He cringed, waiting for his father’s scathing reply, but it didn’t come. There was a long and painfully drawn out silence before Mel found the courage to peek between his fingers, and he was graced with a shocking and impossible scene.

His father appeared stupefied. He was speechless, staring down at the young woman Melonzriel had allowed to follow him into the woods. The younger drow couldn’t make heads or tails of the expression on the elder’s face, and his jaw dropped in disbelief. Thradris finally seemed to come to his senses enough to look from Melonzriel to Kendra and back to Melonzriel before he took a step back. Mel at first felt victorious. It seemed as if Kendra had put Thradris in place, but the triumph quickly dissipated as Mel detected sadness and fear in his father’s eyes.

“Wha..” Mel started.

Before he could get anything out, Thradris shook his head as if trying to clear out some bothersome image and the older drow just disappeared. Melonzriel stood motionless in a confused and befuddled shock.

“Hmm..” Kendra pondered allowed, speaking the very thoughts on Mel’s mind, “I wonder what that was all about?”

“I haven’t a clue,” her tall companion replied.

*****

[Kendra]

Darkness surrounded her and encroached upon her. Looking around, Kendra found herself swallowed up in a blackness so thick and complete she could not even see her hand in front of her face. Time did not exist. She did not know how long she sat in the nothingness, straining to see something, before a light became visible. It grew slowly upon her vision, becoming more and more apparent, lighting her way like gentle embers slowly forming into a roaring fire.

The young woman was in a small tunnel that seemed to go on forever toward the red light in the distance. Curious, she began crawling toward the crimson globe, and found that the air grew thicker and warmer the closer she came. The tunnel seemed to reach on and on forever and ever, the light always seeming to be just as far as it had been when she’d started crawling.

She went on and on, growing warmth the only evidence that she was making any progress. Finally, the circle began growing, filling her field of vision as if it was moving closer to her instead of her moving closer to it. It was as if time, space, and distance all stood still then decided to spiral around her, confusing her perception of her surroundings. Then it was Kendra who stood still as the red fiery light descended upon her.

When she was fully in its clutches, Kendra realized it to be an opening into a great molten cavern. She was on a ledge far above the red, bright, bubbly, liquid heat, which flowed in a circular pattern as if being drained into a central hole. Any hole that may have been was hidden from view, for in the center of the enormous underground cavern was an island of black rock, towering above the molten mass. Atop the island lay a dazzling array of golden riches and sparkling jewels, atop of which lay a sleeping giant of a dragon.

Kendra took a deep breath of admiration, awestruck by the size and beauty of the beast before her and its wondrous lair. She looked desperately around for some form of passage from her ledge across the molten moat to the dragon’s horde and could find nothing. It was as if she were meant to be here as a mere spectator, her only task to observe what lay before her.

Tendrils of smoky breath curled up from the creature’s nostrils and one great eye opened, its bright searing orange color a reflection of its golden pile. The beautiful monstrosity lifted its head and looked directly at her.

“Welcome,” the beast nodded in greeting, and Kendra’s jaw dropped in amazement. The dragon had just spoken to her!
When the young woman did not respond, the wizened old creature just smiled at her speechlessness. “I have been expecting you young Farvel of the Farvel’s of Clan Turba. You will fulfill that task that has been allotted your Clan. The time draws near when you must return to me that which was stolen.”

“What?” Kendra found her voice. “What do you mean? I don’t understand.”

The dragon just smiled. “In due time. You will understand, in due time.”

The vision began to fade away, the colors swirling and melting together as if everything before her was forming into the swirling mass of molten lava below, as if a painter had spread its brush upon the canvas of her eyes and begun spinning it around in a spiral.

“Wait!” Kendra called. “Come back! I don’t understand!”

“In due time…”

Kendra opened her eyes to find she had been dreaming. The flames of a camp fire danced before her, the orange and red faintly resembling the molten mass of her subconscious. Sighing in disappointment, the young woman sat up and looked around, trying to discern where her dark companions were in the surrounding night with her now light-blinded eyes.

She did not remember building a fire and knew that one of the two dark elves must have done so to keep her warm when she’d fallen asleep in the cold, unforgiving air of the autumn night. She was surprised to find it was Thradris, sitting across from her on the other end of the flames.

“Where’s Mel?” she asked.

After a long silence Thradris answered, “Melonzriel is inside, getting some much needed rest.”

Kendra sensed something in the air that demanded quiet, and she crossed her legs content to just watch the drow sitting across from her and listen to the sounds of the night creatures singing in the surrounding wood. Crickets, cicadas, and other insects rang out in chorus with the wood frogs, spring peepers, and great toads, the near inaudible calls of bats added in with the screeches of the nightingales and owls. Music unmatched, audible only to the patient woodsman of the night.

The normally talkative young woman could not bring herself to break the conglomeration of nature’s talent. She found herself sitting for long moments, simply enjoying the night air and the masterpiece presented to her. When she finally found her thoughts returning to her, she took a moment to observe her new companion, wondering if he too was enjoying the night’s performance or if his mind was elsewhere.

“What are you thinking about?” she found herself asking before taking time to consider her words.

Again there was a long silence before Kendra received a response, “I am thinking that my son has grown up and I have taught him nothing of the surrounding world; I have sheltered him for fear of exposing him to the perils I have experienced.”

“Hmmm…” Kendra placed a finger on her chin in thought. “Well, it is certainly good that you want to protect your son. I think that shows that you love him very much, but he will not learn to care for himself if you do not give him the opportunity to learn. Someday, you won’t be able to protect him, and he must be able to do that for himself.”

Thradris nodded in agreement, or perhaps in thought. Kendra could not tell. “I fear the lessons of this world are too harsh,” he finally said.

“Perhaps,” Kendra agreed. “But there is also much to embrace and enjoy, and if we always hide from the world in fear we will never be able to enjoy it. Why, my Uncle Vick once told me that if the world were run by fear there would be no birds. You know why? Because taking flight is full of danger. The open skies are full of opportunities, and full of peril. Should the bird be injured, it will inevitably fall to its death, but then, if it never takes flight it will never experience the wonders of the wind, the freedom of soaring, or the pleasure of gliding.”

Kendra felt quite proud of herself. She had recited her Uncle’s anecdote almost perfectly and thought she sounded very smart. She did not know where this unfounded wisdom had suddenly risen from, but it made her feel very useful. Perhaps it came from the song of the night creatures. Maybe they had somehow passed their knowledge and wisdom on to her as she listened to their chorus. She did not know, but seeing Thradris nod at her words once again made her feel rather important.

“I have been too hard on him,” he said. “I have stunted his growth.”

“You are elves,” Kendra replied. “He has much time to learn, and so do you. It does little good to linger on past mistakes. Take what lessons you can from them and move on. I never give much thought to what has passed. I always look forward to my next adventure.” She smiled. “I just hope that each adventure will be more wonderful and exciting than the last.”

There was another long silence as Thradris reached forward, extending a stick before him to poke at the embers of the fire, sending a couple spurts of flame upward. “You are wise beyond your years, young one,” Thradris said.

Kendra shrugged, smiling mischievously. “I try not to let it get to my head,” she joked.

Thradris chuckled a little at that and brought his gaze from the fire to the young woman across from him. He smiled, but it seemed sad. “You remind me of her,” he whispered, as if he hoped she would not hear the words.

“Who?” Kendra asked.

Thradris turned his head to look off into the distance, his sight seeming to go beyond the night to times long past. He said nothing, and Kendra accepted that this was a topic better left discovered later. She did not understand why, but her usual curiosity did not spike at the unanswered question. She was satisfied with the information she was given and did not pry for more. This was unusual for her, and given some thought, Kendra realized that her entire behavior tonight seemed very peculiar, very unlike herself. She did not understand it, but simply shrugged it off, attributing it to the excitement of a newfound adventure.

The young woman watched her dark companion with interest, finding his silence most intriguing. She knew very little of the dark elves, and though her curiosity in this mystery woman she reminded Thradris of was sated, her overall curiosity which seemed so very far-reaching and unquenchable was not. What little she had heard of the drow claimed the race to be evil, underground dwellers. Thradris certainly was not the latter, and he did not appear to be the former, but then Kendra had not yet met anyone evil. At least, she did not think she had. Perhaps this was how evil people behaved? No, that didn’t make any sense. He was far too calm, understanding, and he clearly loved his son. Evil people did not love, did they?

“Are you evil?” Kendra asked, and immediately felt silly. Even if he were, how would an evil person answer such a question. Surely, their evilness would cause them to lie. So then, if he were evil he would say he was not, but if he were not he would also say he was not, and so she would not be any more informed than she already was.

Thradris turned to look at her, but it was as if he were looking through her, past her to some unknown thing she could not see. She recognized that far-away gaze. It was one that she found on her own face on many an occasion, though of course she could not see it on her own face. It was the look of daydreaming, or reflection on memories long past. Kendra was surprised by the answer he gave.

“I have spent most of my life in the pursuit of things most evil, yes,” he admitted. “And that evil followed me when I sought to abandon it. It took its toll on my family… and now I live, trying to rectify those wrongs, though I will never be able to restore what was lost… Perhaps, my loss IS my rectification, for all the loss I have brought upon others. But then, Melonzriel should not have to suffer. His suffering is the result of my bitter past, a past I had hoped to leave behind. It catches up with you though. Am I still evil? Will I always be? All I have done is bring others pain.”

“I don’t understand at all what you are talking about,” Kendra said, “But I don’t think you are evil.”

His eyes focused once again on her, and she saw that he was filled with sadness and remorse for things that clearly haunted him, things she knew nothing about. “I am,” Thradris demanded.

Kendra just shook her head emphatically. “You can’t be,” she replied, explaining, “See, to be evil requires no heart. Someone who is evil does not care about anyone or anything but themselves. Everyone is going to hurt others; that’s just part of life. But it’s when you do it without any regard for the hurt you’ve caused, perhaps even enjoy it, that you are evil. You, clearly, are not evil. You love your son. You are very sad. An evil person wouldn’t feel sad unless it was because they felt they didn’t get everything they would have liked to have gotten.”

Thradris looked down, gazed into the fire, and looked away.

“Why are you sad?” Kendra asked.

“I do not speak of her,” Thradris answered, very quietly. “Even to Melonzriel. But, perhaps I should.”

“Do you mean his mother?” Kendra asked, finally putting pieces together and thinking she understood.

That single word however, brought an abrupt end to the calm feeling that had so permeated the night air and filled her with unfounded wisdom. Thradris grew stiff, his silence no longer one of deep thought, but one of shutting out the world. He stood so swiftly, Kendra had to remind herself that he had been sitting across from her only moments before.

“Why am I even having this conversation?” he asked, scathing and abrupt. “You shouldn’t even be here. Leave us. You have no business here.”

“What happened to her?” Kendra asked, curiosity returning anew, feeling her old self again. Her question met a wall, and still she pressed on, perseverance an ever strong point for the overbearing spirit bottled within the little woman. “Where is she? Did she leave, or did she die? I’ll bet she died, and that’s why you’re so sad. Was she sick? You know, it doesn’t do any good to be sad over it for so long. I can understand missing her. I miss my father and my mother and my Uncle Vick, but life is no fun if you always think about missing somebody or other. She would want you to have fun. At least, I think she would. She had to have been an amazing woman for you to miss her so much, so I think she must have wanted you to have fun. She wouldn’t want you to be so grumpy. At least you have Melonzriel. Sometimes, when people die, the person they loved is left behind all alone. I think that must be a very lonely life. I can understand being lonely, after all, people leave me behind all the time, so I’m often alone. But, it doesn’t do any good to dwell on it. I just keep moving, and eventually I meet someone else. Like how I met you and Mel. I’ll bet—“

“Enough!” Thradris snapped, glaring at Kendra. “LEAVE. Now. Away from my home, or I shall escort you away.”

“Humph,” Kendra huffed, feeling rather put off. “Fine. I guess I won’t adventure with you after all. You’re a lousy old humbug.”

She bent over to retrieve her sack, and as she lifted it by the straps discovered she had lifted it upside down when half the contents spilled out onto the ground. “Oh, posh.” As Kendra returned the assorted items to her bag, Thradris came around the fire behind her, his cloak billowing unnoticed around her. When she picked up her newly acquired dagger, his hand rested on hers, stopping her from slipping it into the pack. Kendra looked up over her shoulder at the dark figure, to find his eyes were locked on the dagger, an expression of shock clear on his face.

“Where did you find that?” he asked.

“A couple days travel west along the Great Road,” she replied. “Why? Is it yours? I was hoping to find its owner and return it. I never would have thought it belonged to a hermit. Especially since I found it so far from your home, but you clearly recognize it.” Kendra sighed, placing the last few items back into her bag, and turning to face Thradris with the dagger. “So much for my adventure. Here, you can have it back.”

“It is not mine,” Thradris answered, his voice taking on that distant sound again, lost in memories, as he carefully retrieved it from her grasp and held it up to examine it. “Are you sure of where you found it?”

“Oh, yes,” Kendra replied. “I tripped over it and could not leave it there. It’s far too lovely a blade. I was sure someone was missing it. And it was all covered in blood too. That’s no way to take care of such a nice dagger. So, I cleaned it up and put it in my bag. It needed someone to look after it, after all.”

“Two days west along the Great Road?”

“Yes,” Kendra said, nodding. “I have already told you twice. Why is it so important?”

But Thradris wasn’t listening. He looked around as if some monster was lurking in the nearby woods, just beyond his sight, and he dashed for his hut, shouting “Melonzriel!”

*****

[Kendra]

A dark figure lingered near the fire, cloaked in the shadows of the trees, silent as the night. He watched the young woman and her elven companion with interest. He lay in the branches of a large birch, high above the pair, his chin resting on his crossed arms, resting like a languid cat. He thought of the two below him in the same way such a beast would think of its prey. They were entertaining for the time being, and he could toy with them until he was ready to strike.

When Kendra’s bag spilled its contents and the lovely little dagger was retrieved, the predator perked up on his perch, even more interested. So it had wound up finding its way here. His presence in the area was known. He had expected to come upon Thradris unawares, but this would only make the encounter more interesting.

Zrethxiin smiled wide, his bright teeth standing out in stark contrast against his black skin. When Thradris disappeared inside the hut, his old friend slipped down out of the tree, unseen by the small child-like woman. His hand rested on the hilt of the sword at his belt as he contemplated killing the girl right then and there. Thradris was already aware that he was here, so killing her would not give away his position anymore than it already was, except to let Thradris know he had been right there. He smiled at the thought, reveling in the fear such an action would elicit from the old drow, knowing he had gone soft for Zrethxiin had slipped right under his nose. Besides, there was no harm in a little bit of fun, since his stealth was already compromised.

We have no time for personal vendettas! Shouted a voice in his head.

Zrethxiin answered silently, Since when have you turned down the spilling of blood?

He sensed a mental shrug, if it was possible for a voice to shrug, but it was overborne by a sense of urgency and impatience. We have wasted time here for too long! We should be going after the druid. He will be far ahead of us now.

You worry too much, Zrethxiin replied. We will catch him within the tenday. The drow was very confident in his tracking skills, and knew he could easily overcome the young druid. He only cursed his luck that the young man had managed to escape him in the first place, so now he had to put up with the annoying pesterings of Trixallin, his sentient sword. He felt very sure of himself and knew he could have already killed the druid, but had chosen instead to take a detour, when his hunt had brought him so close to familiar grounds.

He was practically atop the girl now, she completely unaware of his presence, looking into the flames and humming to herself. What a strange creature. She was so… dumb. Zrethxiin could see her small figure in detail, lit by the fire. She appeared very similar to the human children, but bore the grime and wear of several years. He knew the humans were a short lived species, and could tell that her time and experience would mark her an adult, but her size matched those of the children. She wore simple traveling attire, and her pack was almost as large as she, stuffed full of innumerable items.

So young. So innocent. So stupid. The old drow drew his blade in silence, a malicious smile spreading across his lips as he rested a hand upon her shoulder.

Before she even had time to turn and face him, Zrethxiin felt a burning sensation arch through his body, originating from the hilt of his blade. The searing pain was accompanied by a loud, unbearable scream, and the drow yanked his hand off the girl, gripping his head in agony. Trixallin was screaming curses within his head so loudly and quickly he could not make any sense of them, and would not have been able to were they spoken audibly anyway for they were spoken in a strange foreign language.

Kendra turned now, to see her would-be killer gripping sword tightly in one hand and his head in the other, stumbling backward, eyes squinting shut in pain. “Are you alright, sir?” she asked, tilting her head to the side inquisitively as she rose from her sitting position to approach him. “Hey, you’re a drow too! Are you friends with Thradris?”

As Trixallin quieted and the pain dissipated, Zrethxiin growled. His eyes focused on Kendra. Enraged, he took two swift steps toward her, ready to make a quick end to his troubles.

NO! His sword shouted, causing him to step back. Leave her, oh please leave her, it begged pathetically. This only angered Zrethxiin more and he sought to override the pull of his blade, but when he tried to near the young woman it was as though his body seized up involuntarily.

What is WRONG with you?! Zrethxiin demanded.

Just go. Go now. Flee this place. Quickly!

The delay had cost him. He saw Thradris exit the hut, and the two locked eyes. Zrethxiin growled under his breath and with a flourish of his cloak, disappeared into the forest.

*****

[Kendra]

“Melonzriel!” Thradris called, turning back to the door of the hut and reaching inside to pull the younger drow out. His son had been hurridly trying to pack a bag of his own, and a loaf of bread slipped from his hands to the floor as he was unceremoniously yanked away. “We are leaving. Now!”

“But.. wait, I-“

“Now.” Thradris said, his voice low and firm, allowing no argument. He eyed Melonzriel’s belt to be sure his weapons were secured then nodded forward, adjusting his own straps as the young elf stepped in front of him. The elder one was quick and efficient, not even taking the time to step inside and secure any belongings. He had everything he needed already. His armour, and his weapons were all that would be necessary. He had survived with the same for decades in the deep, dangerous dark of the underground drowven realm. Nothing else would be of any use in defending his own life and the life of his son.

The tall dark pair stepped swiftly past Kendra as she hurried to catch up with them, slinging her own large pack over her shoulders. “Hey, wait up!” she called. “What’s going on? Who was that? Why are we leaving? Are you in danger? What’s so important about the dagger? Was it his? Is he here to help? Are we following him, or… is he some sort of assassin? Is he out to kill you? You looked like you know him, but you sure weren’t happy, but he didn’t kill you, but…” The young woman stopped in her track with a gasp, remembering how his sword had been drawn when he’d approached her. “He tried to kill ME! Why would he try to kill me? It’s something about the dagger, isn’t it? This dagger must be awfully special. Is it magical? Is it cursed? Are we going on a quest?”

Thradris suddenly pivoted and turned to face her, just as Kendra was attempting to vault over a fallen tree, and she nearly stumbled down on her rear end, barely catching herself as she looked up at the dark elf. “If he’d wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead,” Thradris stated, matter-of-factly, his gaze cold and firm. “He was sending a message.”

Without another word, Thradris turned back to their path and prodded his son forward, keeping vigilantly behind him. They were not traveling nearly as quickly as he would have liked, but the woman behind them was barely keeping up, and he would not leave her behind. He needed her to show them where she’d found the dagger. Something had brought Zrethxiin here. Something had caused him to resurface. He did not think his old friend had come simply to check on Thradris’ well-being. No, he had made sure of that 42 years ago. There was something more, and whatever it was, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

“He wants the dagger because it has special powers, and since I found it he has to kill me to get it. I bet if I can find out what kind of special powers it has, I could use them to stop him. You know about the dagger. Could you help me? Are you like a protector to make sure it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands? Well, that doesn’t really make any since though. Cause, then why would you be a hermit? And if it was his to begin with, then you weren’t really being a very good protector, now were you? Unless he’d managed to steal it away somehow, and you’d lost his trail and now that the dagger has been found you have to find the great wizard who put the curse on the dagger so he can dispell it so that no more harm can be done with his horrible powers. That’s where we’re going, isn’t it? Are we going to meet a powerful wizard? That would be so wonderful. Do you think he could help me find a dragon? I’ve always wanted to meet a dragon. It would be wonderful if it would let me fly up on its back, don’t you think? After he’s taken care of the magical dagger could you ask him to whisk me away to a dragon’s lair? Oh! You know, I had this dream about going to a dragon’s lair. I bet it was a premonition. You know, one of those visions where you see the future? This is going to be so wonderful! Can we-“

“Silence!” Thradris pivoted to face her once more, so fast and graceful it was as though he just appeared in front of her. “Please, be silent. We are not meeting a wizard, or seeing a dragon. The dagger is not magic. It is a simple drowven blade, but we must go to where you found it with all haste. Now please, no more questions. No more talking. Just… quiet.”

He seemed so adamant, Kendra could not help but stare up at him wide-eyed and nod emphatically. She kept her lips firmly shut as she followed after the once again swiftly moving drow, her mind racing with all the possibilities. Surely the dagger was magical, and maybe Thradris just didn’t know it yet. She was certain that they would somehow end up in a dragon’s lair through all this, and the excitement brought on by that possibility was enough to help her mind Thradris’ wish for silence. That, and their speed taxed her body so that she found herself too preoccupied to speak, her fountain of speech from before fueled by an adrenaline rush of exhilaration.

Melonzriel did not share her excitement in the least. Nothing had ever pushed Thradris to leave even the vicinity of his homely little hut. Already, they had traveled farther than Melonzriel could ever remember his father going. The appearance of this dagger and the elf he had not seen who had supposedly attempted to kill Kendra, had lit a fire under his father that sped him into such action as he had never before seen.

As Thradris took the lead, Melonzriel looked on the older drow with deep concern. He could sense fear, an emotion he had never expected from the great veteran. He was keeping an even closer watch over Melonzriel than he could ever remember, the overprotective father going far overboard. He’d never, never acted like this before.

Who was this mystery intruder? What had he done to so upset Thradris? How had he obtained such a hold over the immovable dark elf? Thradris was strong, capable, and set in his ways. Silent and withdrawn, he never spoke to Melonzriel of the past except to caution him against the dangers of the average drow. There was the occasional surface-dwelling drow that meant no harm and even a few adventurous ones that would go out of their way to help the goodly races, but these were few and far between. Thradris had drilled into him that he must never, ever take anything from another drow at face value, to never, ever trust a drow without first making sure he prove himself.

Was this mystery drow the cause for such caution? Melonzriel was certain he was. He had often wondered about his father’s past in passing, but never so cogently as he did now. What would this sudden adventure unravel? What would he learn of his so very secretive father, and could his father handle the revealing?

Convinced that his chance encounter in the prison cell had been no coincidence, Melonzriel looked back toward Kendra who was working with great effort to keep up with the dark elven pair. She had stumbled upon a dagger belonging to this dark stranger, then stumbled upon Melonzriel, who then led her to Thradris, who had identified the dagger and revealed the hiding villain, sending them all out together on this mysterious journey. What part did she have in all this? She was no drow, but just thinking of the cautions Thradris had built inside him had Melonzriel wondering… Could they trust her?

Kendra seemed so innocent, gullible, naïve, and adventurous. It was almost too good to be true, and maybe… it was. Could it all be an act? Had these events transpired by some greater design, to get Thradris away from the hut so some evil act could be accomplished? But what could be accomplished by getting Thradris away from home? Knowing nothing of his father’s past, Melonzriel of course hadn’t the slightest idea.

This young, vibrant, interesting, yet confusing and quirky woman might not be as she seemed. Thradris had overlooked her, overpassed these possibilities now spinning through Melonzriel’s head. Maybe the young drow was on to something Thradris could not see in his single-minded state. Whatever was going on, Melonzriel would be cautious, observant, and he would not trust this Kendra.

“Mel!” Kendra called ahead, her voice drawn out in weariness, each step seeming a great effort, the lids of her eyes falling heavily as everything was going black. “Thradris! Wait up. I can’t- I can’t go any further. Where are you? Mel! I-“

Suddenly Kendra found herself being whisked upward, and she looked around, confused until she realized she was resting astride the back of one of her drow companions. Too weary to ascertain which it was, their march through the dead of night having strained her very being, Kendra was comforted in the simple fact that she was not being left behind. In moments, she had fallen fast asleep.

Melonzriel watched his father pull the exhausted young woman up and onto his back with trepidation. His own imagination had been spinning circles as they walked in silence, and he was convinced that her innocence was a sham and they were being led into some kind of ambush. As Kendra passed into a deep sleep, her face flat against Thradris’ shoulder, Melonzriel could hold his silence no longer.

“Thradris, how do you know we can trust this woman?” he asked, as they marched onward, picking up the pace despite the heaviness of the elder’s burden. The older drow showed no sign that he had even heard his words. “What if this is all some kind of trap?”

Thradris took a brief moment to look back at Melonzriel, acknowledging that he had indeed heard the boy, but then he continued onward. Mel was anxious to have his fears voiced, his imaginings confirmed. His father could be so aggravating in his silence, but the young drow knew that he would receive a response in due time. Once Thradris had heard a question, he always provided an answer. The young one just needed to be patient, and so he waited while his father mulled over his own thoughts.

Zrethxiin did take great pleasure in torture, in seeing the pain of others brought out and extended to excruciating ends. Could he have formulated this very plan for that very reason? Could he have returned simply to exact further vengeance, and this woman was a tool in his plans? No. This method wasted too many ample opportunities to achieve such a goal, and Zrethxiin never worked with anyone. He was a loner. Thradris was sure of that.

“No,” Thradris answered. “Kendra is merely an innocent by-standard. If there is any greater plan that has brought her into this role, it is one far beyond Zrethxiin and far beyond us.”

“Zrethxiin…” Melonzriel repeated the name, the first time he’d ever heard it. “Who is he?”

A long silence followed before Thradris spoke, his voice dripping with venom, “A monster.”

“Is he the reason we aren’t supposed to trust other drow?” the younger elf tentatively pushed.

“No,” Thradris answered. “I am.”

Now thoroughly confused, Melonzriel could make no sense of anything. He knew his father would give no detailed account and any further probing would only result in more stunted answers that would continue to confuse him and befuddle his mind. This always happened every time he tried to probe into the past. Usually, he would ask after his mother, but despite all his answered questions he knew nothing more about her than that she had died the day of his birth, and she was the reason his eyes were not the usual drowven red.

Nothing upset Thradris more than talking of Melonzriel’s mother, and so the young elf had given up on knowing of her a long time ago. That did not stop him from imagining what she must have been like, however. She must have been wonderful for Thradris to be hurting so badly from her passing. She had to have been a truly angelic elf, an elf like no other. Now he had another small piece of the puzzle. Zrethxiin- a demon from his fathers past in opposition to the angel. How did the two come together?

“We’ll rest here for now,” Thradris said as he laid Kendra gently in the grass. “Briefly.”

They had drawn near the road but carefully avoided that path. They would parallel the open dirt but remain within the tree line so as to avoid the common traveler. Melonzriel understood this even though they had never before left the shelter of their home. His father would not cross paths with the dwellers of the surface and incur their adverse reaction to his dark skin. Their travel had been swift and lengthy. Though Kendra claimed the location she’d found the dagger to be two days travel, they would come upon it in the morning, and Thradris would decide their next move.

Melonzriel laid down near Kendra, looking up to find that his father was not resting. He felt his heart catch in his throat as he realized the old drow would not sleep. He would stand watch for the short time he allowed the other two their respite, and then they would continue on. Melonzriel shut his eyes, his body tense with worry. Zrethxiin… he thought, what have you done?

*****

[Kendra]

The gurgling chuckle of a babbling brook echoed through the forest undergrowth, its gentle sound creating a humming background for the waking birds. Ruffling feathers and stretching stiff wings, the young song birds listened to its soft percussion and added their whistling tunes. First one, then another- each voice had its own unique tilt. Some were sharp and stilting, others deep and languid. Some were characterized with trilling and undulation, others with stolid regularity and consistency. Before long, the cackling creek was matched with birdsong, creating the morning chorus of the wood.

A late riser peeked a dark eye from beneath his wing, peering at the ground below. He croaked sleepily and pulled his head out and forward, giving it a good shake. The motion rippled through the rest of his body, all the way down to his tail, and he stretched his long black wings to relieve the ache of sleep. Lifting his feet one at a time to curl and uncurl his toes, the raven hunched his shoulders, inspecting the still form of a man sitting by the brook.

The man was shrouded in the folds of his cloak, the baggy accessory coming down around his shoulders and resting in a pile around him in the grass. It had a high collar which came up around his neck and the lower half of his face, stopping right at his nose. His tunic and trousers bore the forest green and brown design of the druids, his dark boots and gloves signature of his profession. His hair, equally dark in shade, was rather long, kept back in a ponytail, all save for one lock coming down in front of his face held fast by an intricately ornate clip designed to appear as a great tree, roots and branches twining together to form a circle.

The raven cawed and swooped down to rest on Talon’s shoulder, pecking lightly at the clip. Talon paid him no mind and remained still, his eyes closed as he focused on his morning meditation. He allowed his consciousness to seep into the ground beneath him, his sense of touch spreading down and outward, as if he were casting out roots. He reached in all directions, a circle flowing slowly away from him as he tenderly grasped for the living connections all around him. The soil was alive. The grass, the ferns, the bushes, the flowers, and all the little insects and critters moving beneath the surface, searching, rooting, hunting, growing… and most importantly the trees.

A druid’s connection with the trees was tantamount to his progression. The trees were filled with history, and their roots and branches told much about the present. They stretched far and wide. They provided insight into the deepest and highest regions of the earth, rooting into the darkness of the underground and reaching into the brightness of the skies. Each had its own language- birch, pine, hemlock, oak, ash, aspen, spruce, fir, shagbark, hickory. Learn to speak with them, understand them, and they can tell you all.

As Talon spread through the roots of the woods, he felt himself become a part of those trees. He could feel what they felt, see what they saw, hear what they heard. He became the forest, and he knew.

“I know you are there, darkwalker,” Talon said, eyes still closed as he sat very still. “There is no use skulking.”

Zrethxiin’s jaw dropped as he stepped out of the shadows, startling the raven which lifted from Talon’s shoulder with an angry cry, alighting on the branches above. Trixallin in hand, the drow slowly and cautiously approached the druid, his eyes narrowed. “How?” he asked. “Even the birds did not know of my presence. Your black one gave no warning.”

“The trees,” Talon replied calmly. “They know all.”

Zrethxiin huffed, looking around himself warily.

“Why are you here?” Talon asked.

The drow’s attention returned to the druid, and he smiled menacingly, tilting his sword with meaning. “You know why I’m here.”

Now Talon turned his head to look at him ever so calmly. Zrethxiin felt uneasy under his gaze and looked upward as a gust of wind sent the leaves rustling. “You could have killed me in my sleep,” the druid offered. “I think… you are not the one that wishes me dead.”

He knows! Trixallin cursed. Quit wasting time. Just KILL him!

“What do you know?” Zrethxiin scoffed. “You don’t know anything about me. I kill for the mere pleasure of it, and I think it might be very pleasurable to slit your throat right now and put an end to this pointless conversation.”

“Then why haven’t you?” Talon asked. “Because you’re curious. Because you want to know more. A killer who kills for mere pleasure would not have hunted me down after our encounter on the road. Its too much work when there are easier kills to be had.”

“Maybe I enjoy the chase,” Zrethxiin smiled.

Talon only returned the smile, and the two looked on each other in silence for some time.

What’s wrong with you?! Trixallin urged. You’ve given him too much time. He’ll have prepared spells of protection by now. I want him DEAD! Zrethxiin shuddered with the effort to resist the push of his sword. The drow’s sentient companion tried to compel him forward to no avail.

What is so important about this weakling druid? What is it you’re not telling me? I will kill him. Later. Once my curiosity is satisfied. Once I know why you feel he is such a threat. If you will not tell me… I’ll ask him.

“I think another compels you to make this kill, and you want to know why. You do not like being made a puppet, do you darkwalker?” Talon asked. Zrethxiin’s silence confirmed Talon’s suspicions and he continued, “There are many that would wish me dead. I’m not surprised one of them would send a drowven assassin, but your employer did not tell you any details, did they? Do you even know anything of the druids?”

“I know you speak with trees,” Zrethxiin replied. “Don’t see why anyone would want you dead for that.” He doesn’t know it’s you, Zrethxiin thought to his sword. I wonder how he would respond if I told him…

NO! Zrethxiin was once again overcome by the powerful force behind that thought, Trixallin immobilizing him, shutting his mouth before he could speak, invading his mind and compelling him to move in for the kill. The struggle for control made his movements slow, and Talon was quick to act.

Roots shot out of the ground, wrapping around the drows ankles and holding him in place. “You would kill me before finding out why you are sent to hunt me?” Talon asked, sensing the inner struggle but unaware of its cause. He knew little of mind magic, but knew something was at work here. He could sense the power, a power far stronger and greater than any he’d ever encountered. His calm quickly dissipated, fear flashing in his eyes as he took a step back. “Who sent you?” he asked.

Zrethxiin tried to answer, but Trixallin overpowered him again and forced him into silence. Infuriated, unwilling to tolerate being used, Zrethxiin forced all his might into a primal scream. He cut away at the roots holding him and fled into the woods, placing Trixallin in her sheath and letting go the handle, severing the mental link.

As the drow disappeared, the raven returned to Talon’s shoulder, and the druid looked off into the distance with concern.

*****

“Are you sure this is where you found the dagger?”

Kendra looked around, the expanse of the Great Road extending far beyond her in either direction, the plains opening out to the west and the forest taking form to the east. She nodded. “Yes, I tripped over it here. There was blood on the blade, so I cleaned it off, and then I kept walking that way until nightfall. That was when I bumped into Talon. He wasn’t very nice. He was so grumpy, and he had this great black bird with him that he said was his friend, but I think it was trying to eat him, because he was all bloody and—“ Kendra gasped, covering her mouth and looking up at her two drow companions with wide eyes, her excitement barely contained. “Do you think he attacked Talon?!”

Thradris shrugged. “A bloodied blade and a bloodied man not too far down the road? It’s possible. Maybe Zrethxiin is still after him…”

“I don’t know,” Kendra replied. “He was in pretty bad shape. All covered in blood. He was passed out when I found him, but I woke him up and tried to help him dress his wounds, but he did it himself. He was very quiet, wouldn’t talk to me. I thought he’d been attacked by bandits or highway men, but being attacked by a drow is much more exciting. We shared a fire, but when I woke in the morning he was gone. I think he didn’t like me much. Of course, nobody really seems to like me much. I’m often told that I’m annoying. You two are the first ones to let me stay with you this long.” She smiled. “Do you find me annoying? I hope not, because I’m having a lot of fun. This is a grand adventure. So, we should track down Talon, right? If we find him, we’ll find this Zexren guy you’re after. Right? Why do you want to find him anyway? Are you going to stop him from killing Talon? Is he your arch-enemy? Are you-“

Thradris raised a hand to motion for quiet, in deep thought. He could not track from here. The Great Road was too well traveled. Any trace of a trail was all but lost. While he had no reason to believe this Talon person had indeed been Zrethxiin’s target, he didn’t have any better leads.

“Alright young one, take us to where you met Talon,” Thradris said.

Kendra clapped her hands and practically jumped for joy. “This way!” she shouted, adjusting her pack and rushing down the road. “I’ll show you. This is so exciting! My first big adventure. A hunt for a drow. So why are we hunting him, anyway?”

Melonzriel looked to his father, wanting to know the answer to that very same question and wishing Thradris were not so quiet and secretive. He knew the old drow would only give a stilted answer. How he wished he could get his father to speak as freely as Kendra. There was so much he wanted to know, so much he yearned to know.

“If Zrethxiin has returned to the surface, nothing good will come of it. I’d thought him long gone by now… but we will find him,” there was a pause, as Thradris seemed to change. His stoic manner became rigid, his voice deep and threatening, “And I’ll kill him.”

*****

Sunlight peeked through the high branches in beams, spotting the ground with dots of brightness, lending sight to a world otherwise lost in darkness. It was far more light than Zrethxiin would have preferred. He grew up in a world devoid of light, and likewise devoid of warmth and kindness. In that harsh world, he had learned to survive. In a world with no heart, he had become the same. His body had been honed and toned for stealth, secrecy, and death- the ultimate assassin.

The forest was soft by comparison. The animals here had no idea what powerful predator was lurking in their midst, a predator that killed for more than survival, a predator that reveled in death. Tired of the monotony of the underground, Zrethxiin had sought the surface. He felt drawn by something, a tugging he could not explain. He had lived alone the past 42 years, and he had grown bored. Now, he was searching. But for what?

He was naught but another shadow in the trees. A skunk waddled along right past him. A thrush flitted for berries nearly right by his head. Both were completely unaware of his presence. The entire forest was alive with activity. The noise and movement was almost overwhelming to one accustomed to life underground. The creatures here seemed fearless. They scurried about their lives without a thought for the dark elf among them.

So much life. Zrethxiin curled his lip in a snarl, and in one swift movement the thrush was dead. As its lifeless form dropped to the ground, the skunk looked upward, raising its tail cautiously and twitching its ears. Too slow. All was now silent. The other animals had gone into hiding.

Killing the druid could have been just as easy… Trixallin chastised.

Zrethxiin just growled and placed the sword back in its sheath. Grabbing a low hanging branch, he swung himself into the limbs of a tree. He ran, surefooted, until the branch bowed under his weight, then he leapt into another, traveling like a squirrel. Some of the trees were so entwined he could step lightly from one to the other. At one point, he jumped down, gripping the branch he’d just been running across with his hands and swinging like a trapeze to the high branches of another tree. When he reached a great pine, he climbed the heights as a ladder until he felt himself swaying in the wind. Still, quiet, alone, far above the surrounding woodland, the drow stopped.

His loneliness was catching up with him. A hardened killer, Zrethxiin had no friends, had no real concept of true friendship. Any interaction with another was useless if it did not provide him with some advantage, and what advantage could be given to an assassin with no direction? When Thradris had changed, his whole life had been turned upside down. In the underground he’d been able to run off mere instinct, all his attention necessary to simply survive, but he’d wanted more. Now, he had time to relax, to think, and his thoughts did not make him feel any better.

He had no purpose, no direction. Then, he’d come across that druid. Why was Trixallin so adamant about having him killed? Of what interest was the druid to a sentient sword? Trixallin refused to tell him, would not say anything to him now except to urge him to kill the man. His sword was overcome with this obsession. Why? Zrethxiin knew nothing of the sword’s origins. He’d claimed the relic from one of his kills a couple hundred years ago, when he and Thradris had led a raid on the surface. And that was another matter. Thradris. His chase had brought him to familiar ground, to the home of his old friend. Thradris was the one who had brought this pointless life upon him. It was his fault.

He’d left the old drow to suffer, but now it was Zrethxiin that felt the pain of all he’d lost. A slow smile crept upon his lips, a plan taking form. He would not kill the druid. Trixallin could complain all she wanted. Unraveling the mystery between the sword and man would prove all too interesting, and since Trixallin refused to speak Zrethxiin could only unravel it if he kept the druid alive. Thradris on the other hand had lived long enough. He would kill Thradris, but first he would kill the one thing he had left in this world. Then, perhaps he could be rid of this wretched feeling, this loneliness. Thradris was the one who had brought it upon him, and it was Thradris who would suffer.

*****

[Kendra]

The excitement of finally being on an adventure was tainted by the reality of what that adventure entailed. Melonzriel could feel the tension building in his father as if it were a tangible thing. The young drow sat in front of a warm fire, twisting a spicket with a roasting rabbit over the teasing flames. He didn’t even notice that the rabbit was done. His mind was wandering elsewhere.

He’d grown tired of never going anywhere or doing anything more than lessons in the woods with his father. He’d learned about all the plants and animals. He’d learned how to fight. He’d learned the common languages of the surface folk. He’d even learned a bit of the land’s history. So much study and learning, yet his entire life had been confined to that remote patch of woodland.

Thradris had adamantly drilled into him the prejudices of his world. The drow had committed some of the greatest wicked acts of any of the races, and many refused to see the possibility that any drow could have noble intentions. Drow were backstabbers, plotters, instigators, and destroyers. Thradris made it clear that he was never to trust another drow, actually supporting the prejudice that forced him into hiding. Melonzriel always knew there was more to it, but he’d long given up finding any answers.

Now, he was worried. When learning to fight, he’d been taught to use it as a last resort. If ever he was thrown in a situation where fighting seemed imminent, he should first do all he could to avoid the fight. Then, should it come down to fight, he was never to kill his opponent unless he was given no other option. This was what Thradris had taught him, but now… Thradris had clearly stated that he was going to kill Zrethxiin when they found him. Something had to have happened to create such hatred. What? Was Thradris’ hatred for the entire race of dark-elves all stemming from this one drow?

“The rabbit is burning.”

Melonzriel shook his head, focusing again on the fire and the slightly crisp smell. Kendra was on the other side of the fire, leaning over it and looking at Melonzriel. She was waving her hand as if trying to get his attention.

“Yoo-hoo! Hello there! Earth to Mel! The rabbit is burning,” Kendra called.

“Oh, right,” he snapped back to reality and removed the rabbit from the fire, placing it on a large flat stone to cool. “Sorry about that.”

“What were you thinking about?” Kendra asked. “I was trying to talk to you. I had to tell you that you were starting to burn the rabbit at least three times before you heard me.”

“Nothing, it doesn’t matter,” Melonzriel replied.

“Hey, don’t go getting all distant on me like your father. We can talk, right? I mean, I know you don’t know me all that well since we only just met a while ago and then we got pulled on this crazy adventure, but we can still be friends, right? I’m excited to have a real adventure, aren’t you? I mean, you’ve been cooped up around that hut for so long. Haven’t you been craving to go on an adventure? Is that why you where in the town? Were you trying to explore? I know I would have done something like that if my Uncle had tried to keep me cooped up, but I would have done it a lot sooner than you did. There’s just too much out there to see, too much out there to do. You know?” Kendra smiled, and Melonzriel couldn’t help but smile back.

Her talkative nature was a big change compared to Thradris. While it was a bit annoying, he also found it rather cute. She was very curious and energetic- feelings Melonzriel had suppressed in himself. They were still there though. He’d spent many nights up wondering what it would be like to really explore the world away from home, to see those things described in many of the books Thradris had him read. While he was worried about his father, her questions proved a distraction and helped soothe that worry.

“I have wanted to explore the world for some time now,” he answered.

“Then why haven’t you?” Kendra asked.

“I couldn’t just leave Thradris.”

“Hmph,” was all the exuberant little female had to say about that.

“I mean, well, he says that people would judge me, that no one would be willing to see my good intentions for the color of my skin. The world thinks all drow are evil,” Melonzriel explained.

“You know, I thought all drow were evil too, but then I met you. You’re obviously not evil, and neither is your father. If he’s so determined to kill this Zexren-“

“Zrethxiin,” he interrupted.

“Whatever. Then maybe Zexren is evil. But fear of how people will react to you will leave you with no real life experiences. If you live in fear, you never take any chances, you never try anything new. Wouldn’t that be a sad life? I mean, I know people are going to find me annoying and try to get rid of me, but that doesn’t stop me from talking to them now does it? And look where I’ve ended up. My very own adventure.”

“Hmm…” Melonzriel thought about her words, recognizing the truth in them. “You’re right. It’s good to take risks… careful risks. Not, like, jumping off a cliff or anything like that. And what good does learning the languages of the many races do me if I never meet them?”

“Exactly,” Kendra replied with a smile.

“It does plenty of good,” Thradris answered, causing both Melonzriel and Kendra to jump in surprise. He’d returned from wherever he’d wandered after catching the rabbit for them, and he didn’t look happy. “Learn their ways. Learn of them- their words, their actions, their lives, their histories. Language is only one important part of this learning. When you’ve studied enough, you’ll realize that there is no point in interacting with any of them. Doing so will just bring you heartache.”

Melonzriel mentally cringed and bit his tongue. Thradris clearly wasn’t in a good mood. Kendra, however, was not so cowed.

“And what about joy, huh? Do you find any joy in skulking in the woods and refusing to interact with others? Of course there’s going to be heartache. That’s part of life. But there’s also joy. You’ll never feel that if you don’t dive into life and give it everything you’ve got. You know what I think? I think you’re a miserable old man who had all his joy taken away. That’s why we’re going after Zexren, isn’t it? He’s the one who took you’re joy away.”

Thradris’ eyes went ice cold as he glared at Kendra. Melonzriel could not believe she was taking on that stare with no effect. She held her hands on her hips, looking him dead in the eyes, no fear whatsoever. She was challenging him! He couldn’t believe it, and even less believable… Thradris did nothing. He simply turned his back, cut off a hunk of the rabbit and disappeared back into the woods.

Melonzriel let out a huge sigh of relief. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” Kendra asked.

“Challenge him like that,” he explained.

“Because he needs it,” she answered. “He needs to see what a sham his life has become, or he’ll always be miserable. He needs to stop cowering from life.”

“Thradris is no coward,” Melonzriel said.

“Yes he is,” Kendra said, quite seriously. “He’s secluded himself from any interaction with civilization because he’s afraid of getting hurt, and he’s sheltering you because he’s afraid you’ll get hurt. And I’ll bet the reason he’s on this chase is for the same reason, to prevent any further hurt. This guy hurt him. Deep. I don’t know what happened, but it’s clear as day. Whatever hurt him so bad, Zexren did it.”

“How-“

“How can I tell?” Kendra asked. She shrugged. “Can’t you tell?”

Giving it a little thought, Melonzriel realized she was right. It was a lot of little things that he couldn’t explain, but it all added up, and it all made sense. There was just one missing piece… “My mother…”

“What?”

“That’s what happened.” Melonzriel answered, finally putting the pieces together. “Zrethxiin killed my mother.”

[Kendra]

Delvont loved exploring at night. When his family settled into their tree homes to rest for the next day, he slipped away to frequent his dark haunts. His brother, Rellimor, knew of his tendancy to sneak out of the elven encampment and settled in the boughs of a large oak to await his passing. When the fair-skinned young traveler passed under his perch, Rellimor leapt down and tackled him to the ground with a playful roar.

“Hey!” Delvont complained, struggling to escape the tangle of limbs. “What are you doing?”

“Coming with you,” Rellimor explained, a small pack slung across his shoulders and a smile splayed across his lips, his blue eyes sparkling with a mischievous desire for adventure.
“No,” the elder replied. “No, you have to go home.”

Rellimor shook his head. “Want me to tell everyone where you’re going? Mom won’t be happy about you traveling the woods alone at night. Evil creatures lurk in the dark you know.”

“Well, they won’t be happy with you either,” Delvont countered. “I could just tell them that I caught you trying to sneak out.”

Rellimor shook his head again, smile not disappearing. “You know you can’t lie to mom. She knows.”

It was true. Delvont frowned. Their mother was an empath and a mind-reader, though she restricted such skills to necessary use. He could sneak out without worrying about her probing his mind to find out about it, but if the two of them came to her with different tales it wouldn’t turn out so well. She would easily be able to discern the truth from their two tales. “Fine,” he muttered, curtly. “You can come, but keep quiet.”

Rellimor practically bounced with joy as he followed his brother into the dark night. He respected Delvont’s wishes and kept his mouth shut, just glad to be able to tag along. They traveled in silence for some time, Delvont very sure of his destination as he’d come this way many times before. When they came near a stream, his voice echoed into the night air, hooting like an owl. He paused and waited for a response, but none came. “Odd…” he whispered. Rellimor tilted his head attentively, wondering what Delvont was up to.

Delvont repeated the sound, and this time a hoot sounded in response. He sighed with relief and glanced over his shoulder to find Rellimor staring at him. “An old owl,” he explained. “He’s always here this time of night and answers to my call.”

“You’re friends with an owl?” Rellimor asked.

“So?” Delvont replied, defensively, and Rellimor shrugged.

“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just asking. I thought owls didn’t care about the elves,” he explained.

“Well, yes,” Delvont agreed. “They are very much loners, but its not so much a friendship as a recognition of each others presence. I like owls, and many of the night creatures. That’s why I like to sneak out.”

“Oh,” Rellimor conceded, but then he looked distracted. Eyes narrowing as he looked off in the distance, past his brother, he pointed to draw his attention. “Isn’t that a fire?” he asked.

Delvont whipped around to see where he was pointing and raised his brow. “Yeah,” he replied. “We should go investigate.”

Rellimor nodded, excited and proud of himself for having spotted the fire. The elven pair hurried toward the fire, careful to move quietly through the woods.

When the pair sitting by the fire came into view, Rellimor put a hand over his mouth in surprise. A little girl… and a drow! A drow in their woods! He couldn’t believe that a dark elf would dare tread through their home, setting up a fire at night that was sure to be spotted. What on earth did he think he was doing? And what of the girl? Was she a hostage? Was he taking her back to his underground lair for use as a slave? He glanced at his brother to see if he had the same reaction and found himself disappointed.

Delvont had his eyes narrowed, but he merely sat back to observe the pair. Rellimor dared not say anything for fear of attracting attention to himself, but he knew they had to do something. Evil creatures could not be allowed to walk their wood, and most especially a drow. Their elven clan had fallen victim to drowven raids in the past, and who could say this one was not a scout? Certainly, they should warn their family, but first… Rellimor thought he could rescue the child. The drow was not paying particularly good attention to her and even allowed her to sit unbound to eat a freshly caught rabbit. He was unaware of their presence, and Rellimor decided it was best to act now.

Kendra had been about to take her first bite of her meaty meal, when she found herself bodily wrenched to the ground and gasped in surprise. “Don’t worry, I’ll save you!” someone shouted, as she attempted to right herself and clear her dizzy head. She looked up to find a young elf standing sword drawn between her and Mel. Mel only looked on in shocked amazement, not even rising to defend himself and Kendra looked between the two in confusion as she stood and dusted herself off.

“What on earth is your problem?” she asked, elbowing her would-be rescuer. “Tackling strangers isn’t really the best way to greet them.”

“I’m here to rescue you from your drow captor!” he declared, taking a strong defensive stance against the dark-skinned elf and ignoring Kendra’s elbow. “Flee this place! I’ll hold him off while my brother brings aid!”

“What are you talking about?” Kendra said, baffled. “He’s not my captor. He’s-“

Before she could explain, however, a second elf jumped from the brush as Mel stood, attempting to run him through with his blade. Melonzriel merely sidestepped the attack and watched his assailant stumble forward as he watched the events unfold in confusion.

“Delvont no!” the first called out, sticking close by Kendra’s side. “Go get help!”

Delvont ignored the call of the first, however, and once he had his footing turned back to attack Mel once more. Melonzriel drew his own blade, and parried Delvont’s forward thrust, sending his sword out wide and to the side, but Delvont used the momentum to roll inward along the length of Melonzriel’s arm and swing his blade across to cut his gut. Melonzriel found himself stumbling back to avoid the crippling blow, and Delvont followed, striving to keep him on his heels.

Mel kept a strict defensive strategy, blocking each strike Delvont sent his way, quickly backpedaling in an attempt to regain some space. Finally, Delvont came down hard with an overhead strike which Melonzriel caught with his own blade and grabbed his assailants wrist. “Stop!” he said. “I don’t want to fight you.”

Delvont just snarled and used his free hand to punch him in the gut, drawing a cheer from the other elf as Melonzriel went once again on the defensive.

“What is wrong with you?” Kendra demanded, stomping on the foot of the elf next to her and causing him to gasp in surprise.

He looked down at Kendra in confusion. “We’re saving you,” he said.

“No you’re not,” Kendra replied. “You’re attacking my friend.”

“Friend?” the elf repeated, but had no opportunity to garner further clarification as the battle between Melonzriel and Delvont was pushed their direction. He scooped Kendra up, who shouted in protest, and moved quickly out of the way as both Delvont and Mel drew daggers with their free hands.

Melonzriel crossed his blades to catch another downward strike, shoving Delvont’s sword back in time to block an undercut blow with his dagger. Delvont followed up with an attack on his side, but Mel spun inward in much the same way Delvont originally had, sheathing his dagger in a flash, and grabbing Delvont’s dagger-wielding arm to prevent close attack. Melonzriel then elbowed him in the gut and spun outward, twisting Delvont’s arm in the process as he brought his sword out wide to meet another incoming strike.

The fair-skinned counterpart twisted his wrist to slash Melonzriel’s arm with his dagger, causing the drow to let go, and they faced off once again. It was unclear which had the upper hand. They seemed evenly matched, but then a dark tornado stormed in from nowhere.

Thradris attacked from the side, catching Delvont off guard. He knocked his sword completely out of his hand, forcing Delvont back as he ducked and dodged Thradris’ double-sword attacks seeking some entry for his dagger. Thradris’ movements were swift and fluid, a dance, an artistic display of skill and training. Though his blows never hit, it seemed clear that if he’d wanted them to they would have. When Delvont finally struck with his dagger in desperation, the veteran drow knocked it aside just as he had done the sword, and then he stepped in close, blade crossed in front of him forming an x over Delvont’s throat. The young elf cringed and shut his eyes, ready for the death blow, but it never came.

When he opened his eyes, the menacing dark elf still stood right in front of him, but his blades were in their sheaths. Rellimor held Kendra scooped under one arm, and both of them stared with jaws wide open in shock. Melonzriel placed his own blades in their sheaths and walked tentatively up behind his father, placing a hand on his shoulder. The older drow glared at Delvont, somehow making it clear with just that stare that he was not welcome to retrieve his weapons. He then turned to Rellimor and gave him the same glare, approaching slowly. Rellimor gulped and dropped his sword and Kendra unceremoniously on the ground, raising his hands up high to show he meant no harm.

Kendra hit the ground with a grunt and jumped up to dust herself off. “Gee-whiz,” she complained. “You don’t have to be so rough. I thought elves were gentle creatures.”

As her voice broke the silence, Delvont ventured to speak, “If you hurt my brother, I swear I’ll-“

“I’m not going to hurt your brother,” Thradris cut him off. “You were the one who attacked, remember?”

“He was about to attack my-“ Delvont said loudly, pointing at Melonzriel and found himself cut off again, as Thradris moved so quickly to his side it was as if he’d just appeared there.

“Did he draw his weapons?” Thradris asked. “Did he attack your brother? Really? Then by all means, have at him, but I’m quite certain it was you who attacked first.”

Delvont shut his mouth at that comment, but spoke again as Thradris busied himself dousing the fire. “We won’t come quietly,” he said.

That elicited a wry chuckled from Thradris as the drow turned to look at him with a twinkle in his eye. “Do I look like I expect you to come with me? Do I look like I’m taking you captive? You’re free to go, as long as you don’t attack us again. Draw your blades on either of us again, and you’ll regret it.”

“But you-“ Rellimor chimed in, and this time it was Kendra who interrupted.

“I’m not their captive,” she said, huffily, even crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I told you. They’re my friends. Silly, prejudiced, close-minded surface elves. Thought you’d come and swoop in and rescue me from the evil drow, huh? Well, aren’t you just wonderful saviors! Now, if you don’t mind, we have an adventure to continue. We have to save Talon, stop the REAL evil, and use my magical dagger to find the dragons and save the world. I may even have invited you along if you hadn’t manhandled me and attacked Mel. But you shot that opportunity right out of the sky. Been nice knowing you. You probably would have tried to kill the dragon too, anyway.”

“Wha-“ Rellimor started, once again cut off.

“Wait a second,” Delvont said, crossing his arms as he examined Thradris. “You’re that hermit, aren’t you? Ana talks about you.”

Thradris seemed to perk up at that comment, looking at Delvont with interest, and this of course confirmed Delvont’s suspicions as Melonzriel looked between the two in confusion. Delvont sized the old drow up and nodded with a new respect for him. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“You’re of Ana’s ilk?” Thradris replied. “Her kin? You’ve settled here? In these woods?” He seemed worried, concerned.

“Well, yeah,” Delvont replied. “We’ve been here for several years now. Ever since the Old Wood went up in flames.”

“This is the drow Lady Ana talks about?!” Rellimor chimed in, seeming to catch on to the direction of the conversation. His mouth was wide open in gaping awe, and now Kendra looked confused.

“What are you guys talking about?” she asked. “You know him?”

“Know him? Hardly,” Delvont answered her question. “Know of him, yes. He brought a lot of heartache on my family… but if it weren’t for him we’d all be dead.”

“I did not know there was a fire in the Old Wood,” Thradris said. “I’m sorry.”

“You haven’t answered my question, Swordmaster,” Delvont replied, giving him a great title of respect among the elves. “What are you doing here?”

Thradris frowned. “If your family is here, then you must take me to them. I need to warn them. Zrethxiin is here, and when he finds elves he will show no mercy.”

“Who?” Rellinor asked.

“Zexren,” Kendra answered. “Bad drow. Evil drow. He killed Mel’s mother, and now we’re trying to stop him from killing Talon.”

“He killed-“ Rellinor repeated, shock growing on his face, but he did not finish his sentence as Thradris leveled a lethal scowl their direction.

“That’s none of your business,” he growled, causing both of them to shut their mouths and stiffen, watching the unraveling events in silence.

“But it is mine,” Melonzriel replied, frowning at his father as he confronted him on the matter for the first time. “Why wouldn’t you tell me? Especially after you saw him here?”

“There’s no time for this,” Thradris glowered. “We must warn Ana and her people. Zrethxiin could already have found them by now.”

“What makes you so sure Zexren will go after the elves when he’s clearly trailing Talon?” Kendra piped in. “Shouldn’t we be finding Talon first? He’s the one in more immediate danger. He’s the one you wanted to talk to, to find out why this guy is even here in the first place. If he kills Talon before we get to him, you’ll never find out, right? Who says he’d take the time to go after some elves when Talon is so close? And who says the elves aren’t prepared to deal with him anyway, even if he does?”

“Trust me,” Thradris replied. “If he finds you and your family, he will slaughter you with no hesitation. You know this to be true,” he spoke, looking Delvont directly in the eyes. “If you won’t take me to them, I’ll find them myself. It won’t take long.”

He looked about to leave all four of them behind, but Delvont cried out- “Wait! I’ll take you. I’ll take you to Ana. She’ll talk to you.”

[Kendra]

The whiz of disrupted air rushed past Thradris’ ear, a sharp twang resounding in the bark of the tree just behind and to his left as an arrow lodged deeply in the trunk. He did not even bother looking at it, instead gazing the direction it had speared from, eyes resting on an elf hidden in the boughs of another tree, another arrow already drawn and ready on his bow. Those traveling with him, however, did not react so calmly, the four of them jumping in surprise and Kendra gasping aloud-

“Did you see that?!” she shouted. “That arrow almost hit him!”

“That was on purpose,” the bow-wielder called from his perch. “I did not have to miss. Release them drow and be gone, or this arrow will be lodged in your skull.”

“It’s okay, Leonelis!” Delvont called back. “It’s Thradris, the hermit, and his son. He didn’t capture us. I told him I’d bring him to talk to Ana.”

The elder elf’s eyes narrowed, but he did not lower his weapon. He leapt down from the tree, eyes always on the older drow who did not even draw his blades as the readied bow came closer and closer.

“Hello, Leonelis,” Thradris said, his voice stinted with strained respect. “I had hoped we would not meet again.”

“I hope I shared and which could have been realized had you simply turned around and went about your way,” Leonelis spoke with equal strain, still not lowering the bow. “What reason have you for speaking with Ana? And why have you dragged these young ones along with you, hmm? For protection? You think I will not kill you in their presence?”

“Kill me and you will remain the fool you always were. I mean you and your people no harm and bear information that may save your sorry pale-skins once again.”

“You were banished from the Old Wood,” Leonelis stated acidly as he pulled back harder on the string. “A gesture too kind.”

“And we are not in the Old Wood now, are we?” Thradris replied with a wry smile, not flinching in the least. “You would not kill me when I have done nothing wrong. I have drawn no weapon against you.”

The elf’s expression soured as he finally lowered the bow, but he kept an arrow knocked unwilling to return it to its vessel.

“My, my, what tension,” Kendra spoke as she walked up between the two, leaving the three boys to stare at her, all surprised and aghast at her behavior. “There is a story between you two, isn’t there? I cannot even begin to fathom what it might be. My mind is going crazy with all the possibilities. When Del and Rell said this Ana-lady talked about you, I thought these elves had just heard about you and knew you were a good drow, but this… Well, I guess you obviously must have known the elves too, or you wouldn’t have responded the way you did when they mentioned Ana, now would you? But the surface elves and the dark elves are sworn enemies, so its reasonable that you two would be at each others throats, but there’s REAL tension here. Like you two KNOW each other, and there’s an actual reason for you to not like each other not just the silly racial quarrels. My imagination can’t even formulate anything close to reasonable. You must tell me! What happened?!”

Leonelis looked at Kendra with a blank stare, blinked, and looked back at Thradris who simply shrugged. “Who is she?” Leonelis asked.

“A puzzle piece,” Thradris replied.

“A what?!” Kendra piped in. “What on earth is that supposed to mean? My name is Kendra Farvel, and I’m a halfling of the Turba clan. My father was Vick Farvel, and he taught me everything I know. I’m an adventurer, explorer, fighter, and dreamer. Someday I will be a dragon rider. I’m certainly not a puzzle piece, and I don’t appreciate being looked at like some oddity.”

“And I don’t appreciate you digging into personal matters just because you find the ‘tension’ interesting,” Leonelis replied. “I could easily have you killed for trespassing and put an end to my troubles.”

“But you won’t,” Thradris cut in, even smiling slightly in amusement. “Because you would not kill an innocent creature simply because she is annoying.”

“But I can kill a drow without blinking,” Leonelis cut back. “In fact, I won’t even feel the least bit of remorse.”

“But you won’t,” Thradris repeated. “Because I have born no malice and wish only to entreat with Alahandriana in the hopes of saving your sniveling hide. Now I wonder, what possessed me to feel such pity?”

Leonelis looked ready to growl, his face wrinkling up in displeasure. “Leave your weapons here,” he said. “Delvont, Rellimor- take Kendra and the young drow to your mother. Thradris- follow me.”
“I am not leaving my weapons,” Thradris said, unmoving. Melonzriel had begun unbuckling his belt, but stopped to look at his father as Leonelis brought his bow back up in his face. The drow did not flinch, holding his ground with stolid determination. “We are wasting precious time. Zrethxiin is in these woods and I will not leave myself or my son defenseless. You will take me to Alahandriana or I will find my way to her myself. At least she will listen to reason.”

“You’ve led that monster here again?!” Leonelis burst, eyes wide with anger. “I do not know which is worse. Him or you. At least his attacks are direct. He makes no attempts to hide his intentions with false morality.”

“My father has done no such thing!” Melonzriel shouted, leaping forward and placing the tip of his blade at Leonelis’ throat, catching the elf by surprise. “His intentions have always been pure. He is always sacrificing to help those in need, and he’s brought me up to honor the ways of the surface elves, though now I’m not so sure I want to.”

“Melonzriel, put your weapon down,” Thradris scolded. “Leonelis has good reason to be upset with me.”

“I don’t care,” he said, though he did replace his sword to its sheath as instructed. “He’s questioning your integrity.”

“An integrity that was once very questionable,” Thradris said sadly. “Now please. Zrethxiin could discover your settlement at any moment.”

“Fine,” Leonelis muttered, his demeanor softened slightly, though his eyes still burned cinders toward Thradris. “Stay here. I will take Lady Ana your message myself.” And before Thradris or the others could protest, the elf had disappeared.

[Kendra]

“What, for the love of adventure, was that all about?” Kendra demanded, folding her arms across herself as she stood surrounded by her four elven companions- two light skinned and two dark. The younger ones seemed to still be overcoming the shock of the interaction, and Thradris glowered down at her before disappearing into the woods.

“Hey, wait!” Delvont called. “Leonelis said to stay here!” He started to run after the old drow, but found himself stopped by a dark hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t bother,” Melonzriel said. “You won’t catch him. He goes where he chooses; no one can tell him differently.”

“So, hold on just a moment,” Rellimor spoke and the others all turned to look at him. He seemed very troubled, as well he should. He was a young, inexperienced, untrained boy and had thought he’d only be tagging along with his brother for a little late-night stroll. Much had transpired, and much information had been presented to digest. He looked sadly between Kendra and Melonzriel, his eyes searching for answers. “Sayd is dead?”
“Who?” Melonzriel and Kendra said together.

“Saydundtalsi… your mother,” his voice hung heavy on the air.

Melonzriel seemed dumbfounded. Saydundtalsi… that was her name. She was an elf? That explained Thradris’ reaction to meeting them, and his determination to follow the ways of the surface elves, and Leonelis’ dislike of Thradris, and so much more. And that meant he might finally get some answers of his own. If Thradris refused to talk about her, at least now Melonzriel could talk to someone else who knew her.

“Ah ha!” Kendra pounded her fist on her palm triumphantly. “That explains it. That’s why you have blue eyes, Mel. Your mother was a surface elf. Leonelis hates Thradris, because he feels like he stole her away and he probably loved her too. Zrethxiin killed her, because he felt like she stole Thradris away and they were probably friends. And Thradris has been a hermit, raising you in hiding ever since.” She smiled wide, her eyes twinkling, particularly pleased with herself. “It’s so simple, and so exciting. A real romantic adventure.”

Her enthusiasm was not shared by her companions. Delvont looked between Rellimor and Melonzriel with concern as both seemed to be overcome with the burden of unbearable news. Melonzriel finally nodded in answer to Rellimor’s question. “Yes. She died just after I was born. I never knew her, and Thradris would never speak of her. I didn’t even know how she died, but this chase after Zrethxiin has brought much to light and Kendra and I speculate that he is responsible for her death.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Delvont extrapolated. “Ana said Thradris first met Sayd when he was scouting with Zrethxiin for a raid. That’s what I meant when I said we’d all be dead without him. It was his love for Sayd that turned him against his kin. He warned us of the raid, and we were able to escape slaughter. At least, that’s how Ana tells it. I wasn’t born yet. But if it true, I wouldn’t put it past Zrethxiin to seek out revenge. This is sad news to bring us, and I certainly don’t want to be around when Leonelis hears it.”

“If Sayd was your kin, how could you go so long without even knowing of her death?” Melonzriel asked, feeling a bit awkward saying his mother’s name, a name he’d never known until now.

Delvont raised an eyebrow. “You really have to ask that? Look at your father. You think he would have come and told us?”

“Well, no but… didn’t you ever wonder, when she never came to visit?”

“She was banished with Thradris. Ana is one of the few who speaks kindly of him, one of the few who trusted Sayd’s judgment in returning his love.”

“You… banished her for loving a drow?” Mel asked.

Delvont nodded sadly. “Unfortunately, many are still as stiff-necked as Leonelis. You won’t exactly be receiving a friendly welcome once everyone realizes you’re here.”

“Oh,” Mel seemed disappointed. He had hoped to ask questions about his mother, to find elves who had grown up with her, learn more about her. Now, doing so did not seem very probable.

“Mother and Lady Ana will be sad,” Rellimor said softly.

Delvont nodded in agreement, “And Leonelis will be angry.”

[Kendra]

“Alahandriana…”

A voice whispered in the darkness, faint and filled with sadness. Drifting in and out of sleep, the elven Lady tried to place it- a voice from dreams, memories, or some other distant fog? She blinked her heavily-lashed, bright blue eyes, slowly waking to the gentle light of moonbeams streaming through her window. The pale light seemed to sparkle as it danced across her doe-soft skin, only making her snowy complexion seem all the brighter. Her hair a deep black in stark contrast to the fairness of her skin, its color the clear designator of her moon-elf heritage, splayed haphazardly about her pillow.

The deep, sapphire blue of her eyes shone with awareness as she came fully awake and rose from her bed, looking around. Sound had registered in her ears, the sound of her name. Someone had spoken in her room, not in her dreams. That voice had not come from her mind.

She seemed to glide onto the floor, her long flowing white robes curving around her, catching the gentle light of the moon in its folds and bringing a soft glow about her. She was certain that the source of that voice had come from somewhere in this room, yet for all her perceptive skills she could not place it. It seemed as if she was all alone in her room, except for the fact that she knew someone had called her by name. A faint tingling of fear crept up her spine as her imagination raced across the unknown, before a dark form seemingly materialized from the shadows.

She almost screamed, but brought a hand to her mouth before any sound escaped as recognition came flooding over her. “Thradris?” she asked in bewilderment.

The drow nodded, appearing closed off and distant. He did not move in closer to greet her, but hugged the wall, and his entire demeanor was stiff and unforgiving. He kept a hand near the hilt of his weapons, and his eyes looked past her, cold and filled with pain. This was not the Thradris she’d known. The last time she’d seen him- over six decades ago now- he’d been happy. She knew he’d felt put-off by the rejection of the surface elves, but he’d found love and he’d found peace within himself. The others did not believe what she’d seen, looking on his heart, but she knew. The killer he’d once been was long gone, consumed by the healing touch of love.

That happiness was gone now. It took her mere seconds to know that something terrible must have happened in the sixty year span they’d been separated.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“I have little time,” he answered curtly. “Leonelis is already gathering your archers. Zrethxiin is here. You must make sure your people are prepared to meet him should he discover your settlement.”

Ana did not understand. The information was so sudden, his presence was so sudden, and his demeanor was disheartening. He was a brick wall. His words were stiff and unemotional. He refused to look at her, to make eye contact and open his heart to her gaze, and she sensed that looking upon her caused him pain. Her voice caught in her throat as she found herself unwilling to make the unbearable conclusion, the only answer that made sense, that explained the information he was now telling her and his stoic mannerism. “Where is Saydundtalsi?” she asked, fearing the answer her heart already knew.

If it were possible, the sound of her name only made him stiffen even more, his eyes growing even more cold and distant, that reaction alone confirming her fears without even hearing his reply, “Gone.”

The lump in her throat seemed to lodge itself there, growing larger and more troublesome as she tried to speak her next question, “And you’re hunting Zrethxiin down, aren’t you?” Again she felt as though she already knew the answer, Thradris’ nod confirming her suspicions that this beastly drow was responsible for the death of his wife… her daughter. There were no words to express the sorrow that now filled her heart with this grave news, the sorrow she knew must be eating away at the soul of this once vibrant drow, so full of hope and faith.

Thradris could not wait for the questions he knew would follow. He could not bear to see this elf grieving for her daughter when his own pain was still so strong. He’d known, for the fourty-two years he’d spent raising Melonzriel on his own, that Ana deserved to know the fate of her daughter. Yet, he’d never sought her out. Now this meeting had been thrust upon him. He’d had to face her to warn her of danger, and the sharing of the sad news was inevitable. He knew she would want to know how, when… but those were details he simply could not share, especially when time was against him. He had to find Zrethxiin before Zrethxiin found the elves, before Zrethxiin found Talon, before Zrethxiin disappeared.

“Prepare your people,” he said, “and hopefully your preparations will not even be needed.”

He started fading back into the shadows so that he could depart unnoticed, but Alahandriana’s call wrenched him still- “Wait!”

Frozen in place, as if her word had carried the weight of a spell, Thradris did not even turn to look at her. “Let us help you,” Ana suggested, hoping she could convince him to stay.

Thradris shook his head. Leonelis would already have gathered a group set on ousting him from their camp. He would not be a welcome guest. Furthermore, they would not be safe. If he stayed, Zrethxiin would most certainly find the elven encampment unchallenged, and many would die in the ensuing fight. No, it was best if he hunted the other drow down, facing his old friend in single combat. Only then could he rest reassured that no others would be harmed by his monstrosity. Only then could he exact just punishment for the crimes he’d commited. “I’m sorry,” he said, and disappeared before another word could be spoken.

The room seemed to grow colder with his passage, and Alahandrina drew her arms close in a shiver. Tears welled up in her eyes. Her daughter, a wonderful, amazing, wise, thoughtful, loving, open-minded elf with several centuries left in her had been murdered. The drow she’d loved, now with a broken spirit, seemed to have nothing to cling to. She wondered if he would live through his encounter with Zrethxiin, wondered if the errand of revenge would bring death upon him. They had been a couple that could have changed the world, but now…

A single tear trickled down her cheek, the clear liquid catching the light of a moonbeam, creating a tender star. She wiped it away before more could follow. There was work to be done. She could spend time in mourning later. Now, she needed to make sure her people were ready to face a drow, should Thradris find his endeavors unsuccessful.

As she gathered her cloak, wands, staff, and other magical assortments, there was a knock at her door. Judging from what Thradris had told her, she knew it had to be Leonelis. “Enter,” she called, back to the door as the archer stepped into her room.

“He’s already been, hasn’t he?” Leonelis growled, seeing the Lady presumably preparing herself for battle. Alahandriana did not even need to say anything. “I told him to stay where he was!”

Lady Ana scoffed. “And you thought he would listen to you? He knows you hate him.”

“As well I should,” Leonelis replied. “And you should too. He’s a drow, for Rokhr’s sake!”

“A good drow,” Ana replied, turning to face Leonelis with a glare, staff in hand. “He came to warn us.”

“To lead us into a trap, you mean,” Leonelis cut back. “You know as well as I do the craftiness of that race, yet you’ve allowed him to wrap you around his finger. You believe in him, because Sayduntalsi believes in him, but you are a fool. You should never have let her leave with him.”

Tears threated to resurface at the mention of her daughter, her now dead daughter. For a fleeting moment she wondered if Leonelis was right. Had it been foolish to let her leave? Should she have held her back, forced her to remain with her own people? No! Alahandriana gave herself a forceful mental shake of the head to clear her mind. Such doubts were a disservice to her daughter’s memory. She would honor Sayduntalsi’s choice in love by placing her own trust in this drow. Thradris had a good heart, she’d Gazed on it herself. It was not his fault her daughter was dead, but Zrethxiin’s. The drow he was trying to protect them from.

“Thradris is not the threat,” Alahandriana snapped, her voice sharp and commanding. “Zrethxiin is, and we must make sure we are prepared to meet an ambush should Thradris fail in his hunt.”

Now it was Leonelis who scoffed, “Don’t you see? He’s not hunting Zrethxiin. He’s working WITH the beast. He’s left to tell him of how easily he infiltrated our forces. Then, they will attack while we are bickering.”

“Well, whether you are right or I am right it seems we are in agreement. We must prepare for battle,” Alahandriana replied with a wry smile.

Leonelis rocked back in surprise. “I.. um.. well… uh.”

“Yes. We cannot have the drow fall upon us unprepared and unawares now, can we?” she opened the door to usher him out. “Place your archers around the border, then rouse the swordmasters. I will gather the mages and wizards, and make sure the children are secured.”

She shut her door behind him and hurried on her way, not even bothering to give Leonelis time to reply. They had to use the time Thradris had given them wisely, and hopefully, Zrethxiin would turn away from the battle-hardened encampment, unwilling to face the challenge.

*****

[Kendra]

Finding Thradris had been easy. Too easy. Living on the surface had caused the old drow to grow soft. Zrethxiin smiled to himself as he lurked in the underbrush, watching the encounter between drow and elves. When Thradris left the young ones, Zrethxiin’s eyes narrowed. He wondered, for a moment, if Thradris had realized he was being watched, but as he continued watching he could see the sword-master making for the elven encampment. Leaving the young ones. Alone. Zrethxiin smiled.

-----

Thradris brought a running Delvont to a hard stop by grabbing his color, surprised concern on his face as he spun the young elf around to look at him. “What is it?” he asked.

Breathing heavily, eyes wide in terror, Delvont tried to jerk out of Thradris’ grasp with no success and offered his winded answer, “He’s got him… Rellimor’s hurt… Kendra chased after…”

Without even waiting for further explanation, Thradris disappeared into the woods.

-----

Melonzriel groaned. Everything was black, and he had a splitting headache. He started to open his eyes and felt searing pain as light streamed in past his eyelids. He snapped them back shut, squinting with the pain. He tried to turn away from the light, finding his neck stiff and his arms bound. He wiggled his fingers and tried to bring his arms forward to no avail. As he continued to struggle against the binding cords, he found his legs were likewise bound and tried to roll across the floor. Panic started to set in as memories came flooding back.

Zrethxiin had appeared from the trees as if some deamon shadow. He’d been nearest Rellimor, who’d started at the sight and moved to draw his weapon. Too slow. In a flash, Zrethxiin had stabbed and kicked him to the ground, moving right past Delvont and Kendra with no concern, straight for him. Melonzriel had managed to draw his sword, to parry the first strike, but Zrethxiin was just too fast. In a flash, he’d been in front of him, too close for using the sword. He’d felt a sharp pain in his gut, then a hilt drove into his skull, and everything had gone dark.

Melonzriel had no idea what had happened to the other two, but he was surprised to find himself still alive. If Zrethxiin was such a cold hearted killer, why was he tied up? Why-

“I see you’re awake,” a voice spoke in the darkness, Zrethxiin’s voice.

Melonzriel attempted to open his eyes again, more slowly this time and found that the light that had seared his eyes before had come from a candle. His movement had brought him away from the bright flame, and he was now able to take in the dark room around him. Zrethxiin was nowhere to be seen as the young drow pushed himself into a sitting position.

The light of the candle hardly illuminated anything, and there was no light coming from anywhere else. There wasn’t even so much as an outline of a window or door. His eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness, picking up on signals of heat, yet even this left him with naught but an outline of his humble surroundings. He did see a door now, it’s outline appearing lighter to his eyes with a blue tint, because it was colder outside than it was in the room. There was no furniture, no shelves, no fireplace, only a ladder leading up to a trap door in the far corner. The room was dark, and cold, and empty. Until he felt Zrethxiin, pressed up against his back, whispering in his ear.

“Hope your father is slow to arrive,” he said. “Because when he does, I’ll slit your throat.”

Melonzriel shivered despite his attempts to hide his fear. “Zrethxiin…” he said, his voice trembling slightly.

The elder drow chuckled, the sound echoing off the empty walls and sending a chill down Melonzriel’s spine. “That is my name,” he answered.

Melonzriel took a deep breath, looking around to find Zrethxiin standing near the ladder, his form barely visible in the light provided by the candle, his cloak masking his heat from the heat-seeking vision. He allowed calm to slowly seep through his body and settle on his mind, centering on the one thought that brought him courage- and anger. “You killed my mother,” he growled.

“Yes, I did,” Zrethxiin answered.

“You murdered her in cold blood,” Melonzriel whispered.

That only seemed to draw a smile from the older drow. “Yes, I did,” he said again.

“I never knew anything about my mother, because of you,” the young drow muttered, straining against his cords.

Zrethxiin chuckled now. “Nothing at all?” he asked. “My, my. Thradris didn’t tell you anything did he?”

Melonzriel’s silent stare was answer enough.

“Oh, you have no idea what pleasure that brings me. You know why?” There was a sparkle in his eye, a malevolent gleam brought on by his morbid humor. “Because if he hasn’t told you about her, that means her death hurt him far more than I thought it would. That means he’s STILL hurting, that living without her has been eating him up inside. That means he loved her, a foolish, weak, pathetic feeling. A feeling I can exploit. And it means it will only tear him up that much more when I kill you before his very eyes.”

The older drow was pacing now, his excitement causing a lump to form in Melonzriel’s throat. Fear overriding anger as he realized the true precocity of his situation. He tried to find some way to free himself of his bonds as he watched Zrethxiin continue his musings.

Zrethxiin had subconsciously placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, opening himself up to the mental connection as he thought of the wondrous pain he would bring Thradris by killing his son.

You are toying with fire, Trixallin whispered, a thought Zrethxiin just waved away.

Thradris is weak, he replied. His feelings cloud his judgment.

As do yours, Trixallin countered, bringing Zrethxiin to a grinding halt.

Revenge was a fickle matter, but Zrethxiin was a hardened killer. He had not grown soft with surface living, with tender relationships, with friendships or family.

But isn’t that the very reason you want this revenge so badly? Trixallin asked, though Zrethxiin had not offered those thoughts to the sentient sword. Because he was your friend? Your family? You cared about him, and he betrayed you.

Zrethxiin growled and let go of the hilt of his sword, severing the mental connection. He would find peace within himself again when he saw the tortured expression on Thradris’ face as he slit his son’s throat.

*****

[Kendra]

The woods had gone silent, eerily so. An unnatural silence. Even the trees were quiet. The dark bird on Talon's shoulder huddled in close and puffed out his feathers as if cold and scared. His beak turned cautiously side to side as if seeking a safe flight path to retreat. The young druid stood still, taking in the silence and stepping in a slow cautious circle to examine his surroundings. He did not speak. There was no point asking his friend what was wrong. It was clear the raven did not know.

Instead, Talon closed his eyes and spread his arms out wide, extending his fingers to search for the magical energy of the land around him as he continued his slowly spinning circle, drawing the energy to him. Power gathered and built around him until his entire body tingled with the strain of holding it in, and then he sent it outward- feeling, searching. His awareness traveled through the ground in all directions, through the very roots of the trees, searching for the source that had caused such stillness.

There. A rotting old guard tower, covered in vines and creeping tendrils of plants that had long since erroded the stone. Ages had passed since it had seen regular human useage. Now, it was reclaimed by the forest- a home to badgers, rabbits, insects, birds, toads. But through the solid oak door, disturbing the peace of years long gone, had entered a dark form with another dark captive. Talon recognized the drow that had attacked him on the road, the drow he'd met again in the wood. Yet, it did not make any sense.

Certainly this drow was an unsurly fellow, but his actions would not bring on the silence of an entire forest. It was not the drow... It had something to do with that strange dark power he'd touched briefly before. He could feel it building, accumulating around the drow like a billowing dark cloud, but he couldn't see it. It was strong and terrifying. Simply brushing against it with his extended senses filled him with unexplained dread. What was it?

Talon did not want to probe too deeply and make this dark power aware of his presence. He sensed, instinctively, that he did not want its malice directed at himself. He attempted to shift his search. It was like changing the lense on a telescope to one with a different shade or angle, allowing him to see what had previously been hidden from view. Now, the druid directed his attention on the magical powers and lines instead of the physical, and they showed themselves clearly before him like colored strings on a tapestry.

He had to sort through the mixed tangle of energies to pinpoint the one he wanted, but it did not take long. This dark power was thick and corrosive and seemed to eat away at the energies around it. He found it to be dense, constrained, as if caged behind another force, and when he extended his Sight to take in its entirety he found it encircled by a power as bright as it was dark. It was caged, and then he understood. An image of the sword the drow had been holding flashed before his memory. Some dark being was trapped in that sword, and its power was building. It was trying to break free.

Judging from the signature of power the being was ancient, had been biding its time in the sword for decades. So, why was it acting out now? Why had the forest gone silent?

Talon could have just turned away- ignored it and moved on. This darkwalker with his dark sword had nothing to do with his Spirit Quest... or did it? He'd attacked him on the road, driven by bloodlust. Then met him again in the woods, unwilling to follow through with the second attack. He'd wanted answers. Answers the sword had been unwilling to provide. It was the sword. The sword wanted him dead, and when its wielder had gone against its will it had become angry and was now gathering power.

Why would an ancient sword be set on his death? He thought he knew... and that knowledge was unsettling.

-----

Zrethxiin settled into the shadows of the guard tower rooftop, hidden by the vast growth of greenery. He leaned into the crumbling stone, comfortable in waiting for his foe's arrival, his bait secured below. He subconsciously placed a hand on the hilt of his weapon as he scanned his surroundings, and found his thoughts invaded once more by that other he'd come to call Trixallin.

This is foolish, the sword cautioned. You're setting yourself up for disaster.

Zrethxiin scoffed. I can handled Thradris, he replied. He has grown soft with surface living.

If Thradris were my only concern I would not be giving you such caution. Trixallin advised. There are greater things at work here than you realize.

An image of the druid entered his mind and Zrethxiin smiled to himself. That tree-talker is nothing, he thought. Of no importance... to me at least. He was purposely goading the sword on, hoping to finally obtain some answers. He did not like being pushed into anything, and that is precisely what Trixallin had attempted in drilling him to kill the druid. He would not do it, would not kill simply because he was told to do so. He'd done too much of that in the past. He was his own person now, would do as he pleased, everyone else be damned.

He sensed the sword fuming, could feel its anger like a heat coursing through his hand. You should have killed him when it would have been easy. Now he will come for you. Him, Thradris, and the girl- an image of the child he'd encountered outside Thradris' hut flashed into his mind, and he found himself confusedly curious. He'd forgotten about her, so wrapped up in his dealings with Thradris. That innocent, ignorant, foolish, helpless girl. What danger could she possibly be? You are digging your own grave, and mine with it. You cannot take all three on your own. Then they will have me... and the druid will destroy me.

What? Zrethxiin thought.

Flee now, while you can, and I will explain, Trixallin replied. Or I will trade you for a new wielder. There is a suitable host approaching, though not nearly so compatable as yourself, or I would not be giving you this opportunity. We haven't the time. Abandon this escapade with your dark-skinned nemesis and I will present you with ample revenge in due time. That and more. Refuse, and I will render you helpless to his fury. Choose now. It is your only chance.

-----

"Hey! Wait for me!" Kendra called ahead as a dark form bolted past her. Thradris did not stop, and Kendra struggled to catch him. She'd already been running after Zrethxiin and found herself winded. She'd been unable to match his pace, even when he'd been carrying Melonzriel in his wake, but she'd refused to give up the chase. Luckily, carrying a hostage had made it near impossible for him to cover his trail. Thradris, however, traveled with no burden and with the wind of fury speeding his feet.

Lucky again that she was already near her destination, as she saw Thradris come to a cautious stop ahead of her, outside a crumbling building. "Hey!" she called again, reaching an arm over her head to wave as she stepped over a fallen log, but Thradris did not look back at her. He mearly held up a hand of his own and Kendra instinctively knew that he meant for her to be still and quiet. She froze where she was and watched him burst inside.

When he disappeared from sight, she could hold it no longer and dashed after him. She couldn't let Thradris do battle alone. Bursting through the door, ready to fight, Kendra had to draw up short to allow her eyes to adjust to the darkness... and quiet. Shouldn't there be swords clashing? "Thradris?" she called, searching the shadows for some shape... somewhere. "Melonzriel?"

"I'm here," the young drow answered.

"What's going on?" Kendra called again, looking in the direction the voice had come from and trying to pinpoint him. She thought she saw his cloak shifting in candlelight, but she couldn't be sure.

"I haven't got a clue," Melonzriel replied.

Before he could explain further, there was a thump over by the ladder Kendra could barely make out. "He's gone," came Thradris' voice, thready with barely contained rage. He paced the small room in front of them, trying to shake it off. "I don't understand it."

Melonzriel gulped. "Why would he just leave like that?" he asked. "He said... said he was... going to kill me in front of you... just like... just like..."

All Kendra could see were the red eyes, but they were dangerous eyes. Eyes filled with pain, fury, anguish, hate, torture, rage... Eyes that would strike fear into the heart and soul of any who crossed them. Eyes that had no time to think things through.

"You," he pointed a finger at Melonzriel. "Go back to the elves. Ask to see Alahandriana. She will keep you safe." He started to turn away, but Melonzriel took a step after him.

"And you?" he asked. "You're going after him aren't you?"

Thradris stood still in the darkness, not turning back to look at them, his cloak billowing around him and blending with the shadows so that he was nearly invisible. "Yes," he said.

"Then I'm coming with you," Melonzriel stated, his voice trembling.

"No you are not!" Thradris growled.

"He killed my... he killed..." Melonzriel choked, unable to finish the sentance, but he didn't need to. Thradris knew what he wanted to say. "I'm not going to sit back, safe and sound while you hunt him down. What was all the training for if not for this? I know I'm not good enough to take him on my own. He was so fast, so... I can't take him. But I can help."

"You are not coming!" Thradris snarled, his voice rising in fury as he practically appeared inches from Melonzriel's face. "I cannot do this if I have to protect you!"

"You won't have to," Kendra piped in, drawing the gazes of both drow to her. "I will."

"You," Thradris shook his head. "You would be more a hinderance than a help."

Kendra folded her arms in front of her chest and screwed up her face in determination. "I'm coming and you can't stop me," she said.

"Really?" he replied with a glare. "Keep up with me then." And before either could say another word or offer protest, he disappeared.

*****

[Kendra]

OOC: For those who have been waiting in expectation for more of this story, the time has come! Sorry for the horribly long delay. I have been going through some serious editing, as I realized things were happening far too fast. I knew (for the most part) how I wanted things to play out, but I hadn't really planned it thoroughly. So...

I've drawn up a complete summary and an outline. Most of what has been written here so far needs to be completely re-written. Some of it won't be happening in the story at all. Some of it will only be getting slightly changed, and occuring far later in the story than it happens here.

Most important, the Title is changing! This will be known as "The Last Agrimar". I am going to post the summary and outline here. The summary is not an easy read as it does not flow easily, but it is more for my benefit as I'm writing. I will be using it to write a synopsis that will be easier to follow. HOWEVER-

The reason I am posting it here is for feedback! Please feel free to comment in this thread. I will post the story itself as it progressing in a new thread titled "The Last Agrimar".

Thank you for your patience and comments!